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deanbrainrotwritings · 9 months

Text

— GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction.

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door.

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men.

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son.

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos.

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June.

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one.

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle.

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily.

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass.

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room.

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at.

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh.

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself.

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on.

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans.

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely.

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people.

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving.

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean.

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow.

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway.

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation.

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him.

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective.

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently.

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly.

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet.

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter.

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera.

What a funny thing.

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything.

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction.

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted.

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward.

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants.

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire.

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer.

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand.

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds.

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over.

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it.

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie.

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added.

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him.

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie.

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog.

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth.

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair.

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap.

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table.

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor.

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time.

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss.

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts.

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.”

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching.

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name.

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly.

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned.

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more.

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head.

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole.

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely.

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly. “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes.

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy.

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths.

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw.

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.”

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch.

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly.

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath.

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her.

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt.

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily.

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his.

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit.

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would.

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure.

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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anouchard · 1 month

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how did you get into the magnus archives? like how did you discover it since you were a fan before you got cast?

have your opinions on the podcast (like fav character, headcanons, etc) changed since getting cast?

anyways thanks if you do answer!!! you do such an amazing job as gwen in tmp and it’s truly a delight every time we get to hear from the fandoms favourite character!!!

Hiya!

So, during lockdown I started a TTRPG campaign with friends from uni, college, drama school ... you name it. Just a random bunch of people who liked the idea.

Around October/November 2020, one of them recommended Magnus. They're a massive horror nerd, and I was not into horror at that point (or so I thought, like a FOOL.), but I liked the sound of it and decided to give it a go. I listened to the first two episodes and only broke off because I was about to go and play D&D, and from that moment I was in love - with Magnus, with horror, with voice acting, the whole lot. I said "God, I don't care if I have to work awful jobs for 6.5 days a week - just let me spend the remaining half day working on a show like that" (touch wood, I haven't needed to keep that promise yet ...).

Anyway, time went on, friend and I were on the phone to each other sobbing over the finale (I had liveblogged every episode with them), and that was that. A week later I finished my MA, started working day jobs, and had already e-mailed RQ after being encouraged by my old improv teacher whose name I had heard in the credits a few times (thank you, Ian ❤️).

Three years on and here we are! Madness.

Anyway, I'm not sure how much my opinions have changed as I haven't re-listened since I was cast (except to the odd old favourite). I think it would feel strange to do so now - so much has happened and changed in my life both personally and professionally, and I also listened to TMA at such a distinct moment in time. I always loved the Archivist, Jonah, and the whole concept of the Eye, as well as the Leitner storyline in S2 (possibly my favourite series).

Right, that's turned into another essay. Thank you so much for such kind words - I fully expected everyone to loathe Gwen, so this has all been something of a surprise. Still, I suppose there's still time yet ... 😊

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #magpod #magnus protocol #rusty quill #gwen bouchard #gwendolyn bouchard #tma #the magnus archives #ask noosh stuff

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babyleostuff · 11 months

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I've got to feed my delusional ass, so as someone who is a huge nerd i was wondering if you do seventeen hcs to their Friend / S/O / Crush being an actor and playing a phenomenal iconic TV pop culture character? . i have always been dying to get Idol! Seventeen X Actress reader

seventeen x actress!reader | ot13

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

𓆩♡𓆪 he would be a loud and proud supporter - even if the topic of conversation wasn't in any way related to you or even cinema, Cheol would find a way to mention your latest role (he would also probably pull out his phone, and show a bunch of “behind the scenes” photos)

𓆩♡𓆪 he would be the type to fly out to whatever location you were currently shooting at, and surprise you with a bunch of flowers and his Choi Seungcheol™ dimple smile

𓆩♡𓆪 i don’t want to be that person, but i think he would get a bit jealous, and he wouldn’t like watching the kissing scenes - not because he is possessive or anything, he is so happy you get to do what you love, but sometimes he could get slightly insecure of the bond you have with your male co-stars, especially because you spend so much time with them

𓆩♡𓆪 so he will close his eyes during a kissing scene, but the best solution to cheer him up again is just to give him a couple of (or more) kisses, and he’ll be all smiley and happy again

YOON JEONGHAN

𓆩♡𓆪 the silent supporter - he wouldn’t start talking about you out of the blue like Cheol, but whenever a trailer of your newest movie would be shown at the movies, he’d sit there all proud thinking “that’s right, that’s my incredible girlfriend”

𓆩♡𓆪 and he would always bring you to your favourite restaurant when you’d finish shooting, one - to catch up on the time you missed out on, second - to remind you how proud he is of you

𓆩♡𓆪 Hannie would love to listen to all of the stories you’d share from the set, as well as the photos and videos, and he’d sit through the whole night listening to you, because he knew how happy it made you to talk about your work

𓆩♡𓆪 he would also keep every ticket from all of your movies when he went to the cinema to see them, probably keeping them in a little box somewhere where you wouldn’t find it

HONG JOSHUA

𓆩♡𓆪 i feel like Joshua would be very similar to Jeonghan - the most important thing for him would be for you to know how proud he was of you, he wouldn’t have the need to express it to the whole universe, because people already knew how great of an actress you were

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d be quite quiet while watching your movies, but you knew it was because he didn’t want to miss even a second of it, especially if it was your scene

𓆩♡𓆪 and he’d gladly listen to all of your small comments throughout the movie - how you shot that specific scene, or how much you messed up your lines in that specific moment

𓆩♡𓆪 Joshua would look at you with this smitten gaze, unable to resist the warm feeling when he looked at you all excited and happy

𓆩♡𓆪 by the end of the movie he’d have a whole paragraph of compliments ready, and he’d make it corny on purpose - to make you both a bit shy, but also to make you laugh

WEN JUNHUI

𓆩♡𓆪 as a fellow actor, he’d help you figure out your lines and scenes, he’d practise with you - even if it took the whole night

𓆩♡𓆪 and he’d be the first person in the line at the movies, with a set of popcorn and drinks, because Jun would be that excited to see your movie

𓆩♡𓆪 after, he’d send you tons of messages saying how good the movie was, and how good of a job you did, and after writing a whole paragraph of how proud he was of you, he’d call you right away, basically saying all of the things he already wrote

𓆩♡𓆪 also, the moment it’d come out on streaming platforms he’d watch it with you, gushing the whole time how you crushed that role and how good you looked

KWON SOONYOUNG

𓆩♡𓆪 he would be so excited over you being an actress, like - you get to shoot at all of these cool locations, in front of a green screen, and they can make you into a superhero? he’d beg you to tell how all of the movie magic happens, and sometimes you’d find him going through your camera roll to look at the photos from set

𓆩♡𓆪 you can be sure he’d watch your movies multiple times, he’d buy the DVDs and bring them with him on tour (even though most of them could be found online, he’d still buy them)

𓆩♡𓆪 one time, he even proposed that there should be photocards in the DVDs so he could collect yours

𓆩♡𓆪 and he’d make the boys watch them with him, even if he’d have to drag Mingyu to the couch, he would fight him just so he would watch the damn movie

LEE JIHOON

𓆩♡𓆪 same as Jeonghan and Joshua - he’d be tremendously proud and supportive of you, but in a silent way

𓆩♡𓆪 and he’d keep the DVDs and Blu-rays in his studio, neatly keeping them on a shelf, with your framed photo as well

𓆩♡𓆪 if he ever had a bad day, couldn’t figure out a beat, or finish writing lyrics, Jihoon would pick out his favourite movie of yours and play it, so he could take his mind off of the work

𓆩♡𓆪 i believe he said he isn’t a big movie watcher, as he doesn’t really have time for that, but he’d always make time for watching your movies, every single one of them (even if you’d tell him that it was alright if he didn’t want to or was too tired, he’d take you the movies himself)

JEON WONWOO

𓆩♡𓆪 artsy boy ⅓ - he would love to talk about the technicalities of the movie, like the camerawork, the cinematography, or the CGI - you could literally spend hours after the movie talking about it

𓆩♡𓆪 he would ask you a lot of questions about different shorts, and how they were filmed

𓆩♡𓆪 i feel like he would be too shy to verbally compliment you, because there are no words in the dictionary that could express how proud he was of you, and how great of a job you were doing

𓆩♡𓆪 but you’d know how supportive he was of you - if he wasn’t, would he be the one insisting on seeing every single one of your movies the moment they premiered?

𓆩♡𓆪 and on the way home, Wonwoo would have your hand in his, and not let go of it even for a second, looking at you with so much love and adoration, that you’d practically melt under his gaze

LEE SEOKMIN

𓆩♡𓆪 you’d have a movie marathon once a month where Seokmin would choose a couple of your movies to watch (even if you wouldn’t want to, he’d give you his puppy eyes and you wouldn’t have any other choice)

𓆩♡𓆪 and he would make you say your lines out loud - for some reason it always made him so happy, and you’d always do that because it made him so excited

𓆩♡𓆪 if he was busy because of work, and didn’t get to watch your movie right away, he’d send you tons of messages apologising that he wouldn’t be able to watch it (and you’d always reassure him that it was fine, of course)

𓆩♡𓆪 but the moment he’d get some time off, he’d make a whole date out of it - first bringing you to your favourite restaurant, then going to the movies, and finishing the day with watching the sunset

𓆩♡𓆪 it would be his way of apologising, and making up for the time you had to spend apart, and to be honest, you preferred it that way, because it always ended being one of your favourite dates

KIM MINGYU

𓆩♡𓆪 artsy boy ⅔ - this man would have like those countdown widgets on his phone, to keep track for when your next movie would come out, and he would drag you to the cinema himself to watch it with you

𓆩♡𓆪 same as Wonwoo, would talk about the cinematography, and gush about the amazing shots and scenery, to the point where you’d have to remind him that “hey, i was in that movie as well!”

𓆩♡𓆪 but he’d do that just to tease you - you always got so pouty and cute when he “forgot” to praise you too, and he would make that up by clinging to you when you got home, and list all of the things he loved about you in that movie

𓆩♡𓆪 another one that might get a bit jealous when it comes to kissing, and all of that intimate stuff, so it’d be his turn to be pouty and whiny

𓆩♡𓆪 but he’d quickly realise how stupid that was - you’re literally using him as a human blanket, cuddled in his bed, if anything they should be jealous of Mingyu for having you all to himself

XU MINGHAO

𓆩♡𓆪 artsy boy ³ ⁄ ³ - again, same as Wonwoo, and Mingyu - he’d love to talk about all of the technicalities, camerawork, and would love to see all of the photos from the set and your shooting locations

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d also be the type to surprise you on set, totally out of nowhere (he’d probably write you how busy he was, and that he wouldn’t be able to come and see you, and the pop out out of nowhere)

𓆩♡𓆪 and if you’d be watching it together at the cinema, he’d hold your hand through the whole movie, and squeeze it from time to time

𓆩♡𓆪 if it was more of a, how to say it, psychological? movie - Hao would love to talk about it, i mean you’d probably sit through the whole night cuddled under the duvets in your bed, trying to understand the ending, or pondering on all of the small confusing parts of the movie

𓆩♡𓆪 and there would be no jealousy there, Mingaho is a very secure and confident person, especially when it comes to your relationship

BOO SEUNGKWAN

𓆩♡𓆪 Boo would love to go over the scrip with you, helping you with the lines, and acting out different scenes with you, i can imagine how much fun that would be

𓆩♡𓆪 and if he’d got the chance to visit you on set, he’d look at you with wide heart eyes, adoring everything you’d do, even if you’d be doing a simple dialogue scene, he’d be all smiley

𓆩♡𓆪 and he would be so happy seeing you happy, doing what you love, and having fun on set - no matter how many kissing scene you’d have to shoot, he’d still be 100% supportive

𓆩♡𓆪 and everyone on set would love him too, i mean, how can you not love this man?

𓆩♡𓆪 Seungkwan would keep all of the tickets, posters, and flyers from your movies, he’d frame some of them, or hang them on the wall in his room

CHWE VERNON

𓆩♡𓆪 oh my god, my favourite movie bro - Vernon would eat every single one of your movies up! Like, he loves watching movies, and if you’re in one too??? Automatically 10/10

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d love to hear all of the stories from set, and he’d be the one nagging you to send more pictures from the location you were currently shooting at

𓆩♡𓆪 and because you knew you big of a fan and a movie geek he was, you’d always make sure to get him an invitation to your every movie premiere

𓆩♡𓆪 this man would fanboy so much when he’d meet your co-stars, or the directors, like that would be a dream come true for him

𓆩♡𓆪 so to say that he would be 100% supportive of you and your job would be an understanding - he wouldn’t get jealous or sulky over the intimate scenes, Vernon knows very well that that’s just a part of your work, and it’s a natural part of it

𓆩♡𓆪 and being able to say that this superstar is his significant other??? Chef’s kiss

LEE CHAN

𓆩♡𓆪 heart eyes 24/7, like he’d be so so proud of you, and sometimes he wouldn’t believe you’re his girlfriend, because you’re like this huge actress, and he gets to call you his

𓆩♡𓆪 i cannot stress this enough, but he would be the most supportive and proud boyfriend ever - you know those soccer mums and dads that have banners and scream anytime their child touch the ball? that would be Chan

𓆩♡𓆪 he would re-watch your movies whenever you’d be away, or when he went overseas for schedules, he’d definitely have a list of comfort movies, and watch those every night

𓆩♡𓆪 Chan would have a collection of all of the DVD and Blu-rays with your movies, and keep them neatly on the shelf in his room

𓆩♡𓆪 also, you’d probably have to comfort him a little after a kissing scene, or a more intimate one, because he’d get a bit upset (but nothing to serious, it’d for just a moment)

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag

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haridraws · 3 months

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A question I get asked a lot is

How do you write choose-your-own-adventure style books?

And the answer is (nervous laughter) definitely in a really organised way that's easy for other people to understand, not a nightmarish 10,000+ pixel wide image with tiny text and 100+ layers that I'm constantly changing as I go? Right??

Nothing to see here. The worst thing is this is only a tiny crop, too.

Anyway, I recently did an interview with the small and pretty niche Polish-language publisher that translated both my gamebooks (who have been extremely cool about discussing ways to include non-binary language in Polish, an extremely gendered language.

I surprised myself by actually getting pretty emotional writing about how I felt really excluded from nerd/ fantasy spaces as a kid, and a big motivation is wanting to make weird fantasy that feels genuinely inclusive for a wide audience. So whenever I talk to a foreign language publisher who seems fine and actually excited to translate queer and trans characters and themes, it still feels really amazing.)

The interview included a bunch of cool and insightful questions: Why fantasy? Favourite authors? How do you cope with feedback? What next?

AND the classic: how do you plan and test choose-your-own-path books (though to be honest, if anyone else has a better mapping system, I'm all ears.)

I enjoyed it so much that I got permission to cross-publish the original English version, which you can now read on my author blog - and, yes, it includes the full version of my nightmare map for Into the Tower.

#into the tower #this is what I was trying to post when my entire blog got nuked earlier so please god let's hope it works this time #choose your own adventure #choose your own path

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covetyou · 3 months

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fools just wanna have fun

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x fat contortionist f!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut, Dieter's cock and balls, arguing as foreplay, references to past and hoped for sexual encounters (fingering, squirting, oral), clown!Dieter is a menace (but not explicitly clowny at all in this, for those with coulrophobia), drug use, reader is referred to as Sparkles and has a briefly mentioned latex allergy. word count: 1k summary: A quiet night is all he wanted. It's what he deserved after sweating his balls off out there in the ring all night. But, you have different plans - plans, he's certain, involve riding him until the sun comes up.

A/N: this is a follow on to for one night only (Frankie x Reader), but can be read totally independently of that fic. if you'd like more of this pairing, check out jester little bit more.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

when the workin' day is done, oh fools, they wanna have fun, oh fools just wanna have fun...

Bravo the Clown's balls were sweating. They had been all fucking day. It's simply what you get when you're in the asshole of Florida dressed head to toe in colored polyester.

But he was free now. Free for the night, free from another fucking show and, most importantly, his balls were free.

He'd just pulled them out actually, yanking his waistband below them, letting them bunch up under his flaccid cock as he rolled another joint. The one he had just before the last show didn't quite hit the spot, but this one was sure to do the job. Especially now that his balls were finally cooling down.

Not that the peace and quiet lasts too long. It never does.

Before he can so much as find a lighter to light the joint resting between his lips, you slam your way into his trailer with a bang.

"What the fuck?!" He shouts, flinging the nearest thing to him - which just so happened to be his fucking lighter - at you as you stand there panting.

"Don't you dare light that," you say, pointing to him as you catch your breath. "Condoms. I need condoms."

This isn't the first time you've stormed in here, demanding sex of him wearing nothing much at all. It is the first time you seem to have ran here though. You're never usually this desperate for it, but he supposes there has been a lot of tension between the two of you lately. Not exactly sexual tension, more extreme general frustration directed at him rather than anything particularly mutual. Still, it was there, he'd sensed it, and now here you were, demanding a fuck from your favourite clown, already looking positively fucked out -

Wait.

"What the fuck," he says again, pointing right back at you. "I am not giving you my condoms. What about me?! I know that look, you're not leaving me high and dry, Sparkles."

You're practically snarling at him now, and fuck does he love you like this. Feisty. Definitely wet too, even if it's not because of him. Don't ask him how he knows, but there's something about the way your sweat smells that changes when you're get horny that never fails to make him hard.

"What about you? You are not cock blocking me again, Bravo."

Dieter scoffs. You always brought this up. It wasn't exactly his fault you were fucking a civilian out in the open like that. He was well within his rights to walk over and take one of the blankets you had under your head that day. They didn't belong to you, they didn't belong to anyone. They were communal. "That was one time, and he was a nerd anyway."

"A nerd with a massive dick and button mashing fingers. He was about to make me squirt and you came stumbling over. And you're forgetting the girl with the nipple piercings!"

With each angry flap of your arms, he can see your panties as your t-shirt rides up on your thighs. They look wet and fuck if he isn't jealous of whichever asshole is getting a turn between your legs tonight. It should be him, with his condoms. It's not fair.

"That doesn't count," he answers, crossing his arms over his bare chest with a pout.

"It does!"

"If there was no cock involved, I didn't cock block shit."

His dick is at full mast now, and he's surprised you haven't noticed. If you have, you haven't said anything, and usually you were very good about shouting at him when he had his dick out.

Instead, you just sigh. You give in. To him.

"I don't have time for this shit. The condoms, Dieter. Please."

And, quite frankly, it's no fun fighting with you if you're not going to fight back. That doesn't mean he's going to put his dick away, of course. There's no point. He's only going to play with it when you leave.

What he does do is point you to his condom stash kept in a tin under his trailer bench. He didn't exactly use them often. He didn't like them. But he did use them with you, or if he was taking a little knock at someone's backdoor, or even if someone looked a little less sanitary than he'd like. He did have standards.

He also could've got them out for you. But if he did that he wouldn't have been treated with the view of your ass he's currently getting. You always wear the tiniest little thongs for shows. They're the only things that won't show up around the edges of your glitzy costumes. It gets him going just thinking about them wedged up your ass as he watches you perform some nights - an activity that has made him late to his own performances more than once.

Right now, that tiny little thong is nestled right between your ass cheeks, your t-shirt hiding none of your modesty now that you're bending over in front of him. The gusset of your panties peeks out from between your plush thighs too, and it is absolutely fucking drenched. If he knew you'd be amenable to it, he'd be on his knees eating you from the back already, but he knew you. Only the lucky asshole waiting for you would be getting that privilege tonight.

"Gold packet," Bravo grumbles as you rifle through the tin, picking out a small handful of condoms like you plan on having a very eventful night.

"I know what ones are latex free, Bravo."

Because that is why you came here, to him, and not to anyone else. He's probably the only person in this whole place that carried the condoms you could use - the latex free ones that didn't smell like balloons.

You finally stand just as Dieter idly wraps a hand around his balls, giving them a gentle little squeeze, and with nothing more than a middle finger and the poke of your tongue, you go to leave his trailer.

"Oh, and Dieter?" you say, stopping in your tracks halfway out the door. "Max was looking for you."

"Shit."

His wank would have to wait.

tagging previous lovers of clown!Dieter: @beefrobeefcal @sp00kymulderr @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @clawdee @chronically-ghosted @dieterbravobrainrotclub @for-a-longlongtime

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #the bubble fanfiction #fic: carnal-val #coveted fics

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angelbunny-arts · 1 year

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Behold,,,,. Every hermit design I’ve created over the past year and a bit: with heights and chibi versions of wings included>:D

Species, fun Details and height sorted version under the cut !!

- Grian

A parrot avian in some universes, a shapeshifted watcher in others, it’s a 50/50 which one I decided to go with

Avians in my mind take on the wing patterns of a bird they connect with, which usually happens at around 18-23. Instead of facial hair they grow feathers around their cheeks and in their hair.

His earring is a present from mumbo ^^

The gold detailing on his wings have the watcher symbol and suns on it, and his shoes have suns too! (why suns you may ask? “Grian” is the Irish word for sun, and according to my myth/history nerd friend there was an Irish sun goddess named Grian)

-Mumbo jumbo

An albino enderman

He dyes his hair because it looks cool, you can see a bit of his natural roots

A feather keychain on his belt from Grian

- GtwScar

A half-allay

He’s got heterochromia with the HOTGUY colours>:)

His ears and canine teeth are rounded! In contrast to half-vexes who’s features are sharper

Him and cub have matching vex magic earrings

His design is probably the one that keeps to the original skin the least, but it also happens to be one of my favourites to draw so

- Cubfan

A half-vex

I don’t have much to say here, he’s just kinda silly? I suppose there’s the fact that I decided that convex gets a diamond as their shape, so he’s got some of that detailing

He was originally supposed to have glasses however I am terrible at remembering glasses even though I wear them so they just kinda vanished

His hair is probably one of the most fun to colour too:D

- Geminitay

An elf (the antlers are accessories)

She’s got a whole bunch of little leaves everywhere:DD and some cute gold detailing too, otherwise a pretty simple design with not much to say on it

-impulse

Just a regular dude tbh he’s just a guy/pos

He’s got five visible places where I’ve snuck an “i” on him (but there’s one more on the bottom of his shoes)

The yellow In his hair also matches with my skizz, who has blue in his hair

- Pearl

Either a human or an avian, it’s another 50/50 and depends on what I went for with Grian as well if I have him included

If I go the avian route, her wings are small and usually kept under her jacket.

The moon detailing changes with the moon phase! Her hair also gets more floaty depending on how full the moon is

The knot on her shirt is in the shape of a moth

- Tango

A soot fairy, they’re known for working with and manipulating fire and creating machinery.

He’s got heels and he’s absolutely slaying. That’s really it I can’t pick my favourite detail it’s all fantastic. Look at it

I looked at fire/firemen vests for his jacket? That’s a fun fact

- Docm77

A creeper/goat hybrid

There’s like.. so many butterfly motifs on this man it’s fantastic. I also love the horizontal pupil

He looks like a mix between a tired dad and a mad scientist, which was initially not what I was going for but I’m keeping it

————

And, as promised, the height check (for people that are the same height I put whoever looked taller first)

(also disclaimer I made most of these heights up and are not accurate to the ccs)

#art #mcyt #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #geminitay #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #tangotek #docm77 #bun art!!#apologies for the random avian lore infodump it will happen again<3

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laney-rockin · 11 months

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I absolutely love Star Trek's sci-fi nonsense and diplomatic missions but my favourite episodes have to be the ones where they're not in the correct genre.

Things like going to the wild west, playing baseball, getting forced into a small child's fanfiction of a bedtime story, a twink with an accent acting like James Bond, an android and his pal becoming Holmes and Watson. Oh also nerds writing oc fanfiction and pretending it's a movie.

Also the time-travel episodes. Like when DS9 fucked around during the Tribble episode on TOS. Or when Spock and Kirk ran away from cops in the 1930's. Or when 3 fuckers get transported to Roswell.

It's fun. It's funky. It has the potential to be very goofy. Also seeing a bunch of scientists and diplomats being forced to play weird hopscotch is way too fun of a concept not to love.

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek ds9 #star trek tng #star trek snw #star trek voyager #star trek lwd #i just love it when trek is silly #cause court martials and discussions of real issues are all well and good #but sometimes i wanna watch a bunch of smart people be thrown in an idiotic situation #it's the little things in life

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sadprose-auroras · 1 year

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hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate

Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx

Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing

Word count: 3.7k

You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.

It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.

At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?

One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.

“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.

“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.

“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.

“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.

“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.

“Hm?”

“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.

“What is it?”

“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.

“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.

“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.

------------------------------------------------------------

Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.

Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.

“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.

“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“

Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.

“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”

“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.

“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.

“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.

One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.

“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”

“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.

------------------------------------------------------------

The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.

“What happened?”

Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.

“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.

“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.

“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.

“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.

“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.

“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.

“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.

“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.

“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.

“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.

Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.

------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.

morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3

You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.

Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx

After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.

Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.

“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.

“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.

“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.

------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting. Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.

“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.

“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.

“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.

“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.

“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.

“You’re not mad?”

“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.

“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.

“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.

“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.

Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.

“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.

“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.

“You go,” you said.

“I didn’t know you liked me.”

“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.

“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”

“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“

“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.

“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.

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