#so we could hang up a couple of pictures both at the store and at home

[victorluvsalice]

And then they all settled into the break room to watch the latest Season Premiere! Yes, because it just so happened to be that particular pop-up holiday, and I was like, "Well, they have a nice big TV right here." XD They thoroughly enjoyed the shows on offer, though about midway through Smiler and Alice both got distracted by flirting with Victor. XD But they watched enough of them all to complete the tradition, and that's what matters!

And better yet, by the time they'd all completed their required watching, the blizzard had cleared up, and the snow outside was starting to melt as it was in fact now kind of warm! "All right," I thought cheerfully, "let's just get a picture of the trio in front of their new store, and then we can open!"

...yeah, uh, that ended up TAKING SOME DOING. The first issue I ran into was when I tried to set up the tripod myself at the edge of the lot and have Alice set the timer for a picture -- apparently it was too close to the front of the store, meaning that instead of standing OUTSIDE the store as I'd intended, the group went INSIDE and stood behind the flower-arranging bench in front of the windows. Which, might have been okay if I believe Alice hadn't been entirely blocked by the shelves of flowers. XD So I had to put the tripod and camera back in Alice's inventory and have her place them in the world in the middle of the road, hoping the tripod would face the right way when she did. Fortunately, she did put it down facing the store, yay. First hurdle passed!

Second hurdle -- uh-oh, Smiler is feeling the thirst. Well, fortunately, that is easily taken care of -- they always carry a bunch of plasma packs and plasma fruit. They sipped on that while Victor and Alice had a little make-out session, and ended up refreshed enough that I didn't have to worry about shitty needs while taking the picture. Second hurdle passed!

And then we came to the third hurdle -- ACTUALLY GETTING THESE IDIOTS TO TAKE THE PICTURE. Dear lord, this was SUCH a thing. Because either Alice would go to set the timer, and then just IDLE there for long enough that I would think something had gone wrong and cancel the interaction, or while "waiting for the photographer" Smiler would randomly wander off down the road, and if I tried to teleport them back into position by changing poses when Victor and Alice got in front of the camera, they would end up merged INTO Alice, which, not good. FINALLY getting the shots I wanted took so long that not only did I have to have them change clothes halfway through as they were too hot in their winter wear, it was SUNSET by the time I went "FINE I'M TURNING AUTONOMY OFF SO YOU CAN'T MOVE." *facepalm* Granted, I actually think the sunset photos look pretty cool, and I was happy with the photos once I got to take them, but cripes. Make me suffer for my cute threesome shots, why don't you, game?

[jujutsubaby]

🍒 only fans boyfriend!toji headcanons 🍒

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: blurb in which toji is your bf who helps you take your photos and videos for your onlyfans ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! dirty talking, nudes, sex work, penetrative sex, idk what else lol ☆ a/n: i'm having some serious toji brain rot send help

bf!toji who first thinks of the idea of you doing an only fans after taking his millionth video of him pounding into you. he won’t lie, initially it was because he was tight on some cash and didn’t wanna borrow from you again, but he was convinced you could be some insane OF celebrity. “i’m not sure about it, toji. i don’t want randos to see my face…” you surmise. “c’mon, we’ll cover your face, doll, if that’s what you’re worried about. i swear, we could be raking in thousands from this.” the prospect of coming across a large amount of money like that was enticing…

bf!toji who suggests that you start out simple. “maybe just a shot of you wearing somethin’ cute for the camera, i dunno.” after work one day, you both go to a lingerie store and pick out a sheer pink babydoll slip on, with silky bows on the shoulders. at home, you fish out an old mid 2000s digital camera from the garage and present it to toji. “you’re gonna be my sexy photographer, right?” you tease, as you change into the babydoll slip dress. 

bf!toji who totally sucks at taking photos at first, but is a quick learner as he learns all your best angles and poses. turns out when money is on the line, he’s a hard worker after all. pictures of you sluttily sticking out your tongue, and the dress straps falling off your shoulders send toji into a frenzy, and you both take a quick sex break before going back to taking the photos.

bf!toji doesn’t know how to edit photos for shit so you use the minimal photoshop you know to spruce up your makeshift boudoir shoot. not to toot your own horn, but you kinda ate those pics up, and toji can’t get enough of it. at work, he’s partially distracted, fighting off enemies with half a brain as the other half is trying not to get turned on (one time, he did get turned on while fighting and it was awkward to say the least. the guy’s dead now so toji doesn’t really care). 

bf!toji who creates the OF account for you because you’re feeling too shy to do so. the interface is confusing for both of you at first, but you guys get the hang of it pretty easily. you post the boudoir photoshoot and immediately close the laptop because you’re terrified of it flopping. “the damage of no one subscribing to me, toji, i would die,” you say earnestly, feeling nauseous. “if no one subscribes to you, i’ll fuck the memory out of you, don’t worry,” he says nonchalantly as he picks a random show on netflix to watch. he’s not bothered by this even one bit and you think it’s because he doesn’t care but really, it’s because he’s that confident.

bf!toji who wakes up before you the next morning for work and quickly checks to see if your photos gained any traction. “holy shit, doll, wake up!” he practically pushes you off the bed as he shakes you and you groggily wake up, irked at the intrusion of your slumber. “toji, i swear to god i’ll kill y-” “you just got 300 subscribers overnight, shut up.” he says, cutting you off and meeting your lips with a tender kiss. you quickly pull back, eyes widening at the news. 

bf!toji who reassures you that you’re only gonna blow up more, and that’s why you need to post more photos and videos. it starts off small: simple photoshoots and more slutty lingerie. you arch your back as toji gets an ass shot with your camera. he slaps it hard, leaving a red handprint mark and snaps a couple more photos. 

bf!toji who encourages you to start doing videos after reaching over 1k subscribers. you do a little strip tease/dance while toji films, but the first time you do it, toji folds almost immediately and has you pinned under him. you try again the next day, and graduate to longer more explicit videos – fingering yourself, using toys, and live streaming. toji buys you a couple cute masquerade masks to use, too. 

bf!toji who loves it when you get donations during streams. he ends up creating an amazon wishlist for you of things you guys could really use around the house. he can’t remember the last time he bought you lingerie anymore because your donations would usually cover that cost. that being said, he always chooses lingerie for you. he knows exactly what other horny guys are looking for on girls. “doll, i know crotchless panties are awful but i know the male gaze – they don’t give a fuck. look, okay, i’ll buy you that one piece too, don’t give me that look.” he says to you as you throw in a bunch of lingerie of your liking in the cart. 

bf!toji who finally decides to join you in front of the camera, giving your fans what they wanted. the way he sees it, he fucks you senseless for free every night anyway, might as well get paid for it. toji makes a show to tear your nice lingerie off you and leaves visible marks in your skin from his touch as he pounds into you or bites your neck. 

bf!toji who joins you on your livestreams, and they usually end with you bent over a desk, skirt hiked up, and his arousal deep inside you. “you guys think she deserves to cum?” he asks the chat, feeling you clench against him. he knows you're close, and it turns you on knowing it’s out of your control on whether or not you get to feel a release. your fans love your pornographic and lewd moans, but with toji fucking you, you don’t even have to act for them to come out of your mouth naturally. speaking of your mouth, toji especially loves when you have a masquerade mask on while he makes your little throat gag. you love it when he tests your gag reflex on camera in front of an audience, and everyone can tell when they see you soaked through your panties.

bf!toji who surprises you by taking you on a lavish vacation to bora bora when you reach over 10k subscribers. “we built this shit together,” he says, talking about your OF fame and money. you can’t remember the last time you guys worried about paying rent, and he wanted to do something special for his slutty little doll. he got one of those seaside huts surrounded by a private deck. your breath is taken away by the surprise, and toji wastes no time getting all your clothes off and getting you into the water. the makeout session turns into him fingering you underwater as he pushes your bikini to the side. after coming all over his fingers, you give him a handjob under the water, and toji has to quickly climb out of the pool so he doesn’t cum inside it and has to request a clean up on the very first day. 

bf!toji who fucks you more times than you can count in the water, on the bed, in the infinity pool, that one time super discretely under the blanket in the beach. you bring up the idea of filming a little here and there on vacation. “what? the grind never stops,” you say jokingly as you set up the camera on the tripod in front of the bed. he surprises you by using some silk ribbons to tie your hands back while he licks and kisses every inch of your body, focusing especially on your sensitive nipples erect for the camera. he blindfolds you, hands still tied back while he eats you out. the electrifying sensations are amplified in the darkness of the blindfold, and you make an absolute mess on the sheets and his mouth. 

bf!toji who uses the last night of your trip there to convince you to film one more video, this time on the private infinity pool outside your hut. you come out with a black strappy bikini with a sheer babydoll cover up. “don’t take off your clothes just yet, doll. just come in the water.” he commands, and you slowly get into the water. his silhouette looks ethereal in the golden hour of the sunset as you approach him. he cradles your jaw and kisses you deeply and passionately.  

bf!toji pulls away from you and guides you to the edge of the pool that stares out to the pink sunset and the turquoise ocean. “what? gonna fuck me while looking at the sunset like a stupid romantic?” you jeer, poking his chest. he chuckles nervously. “eventually…”

bf!toji who pulls a small black box from behind him and opens it to reveal a big shiny diamond ring. tears start freely falling down your cheeks and you don’t even hear what toji is saying (you feel a little bad – he must’ve prepped this speech for a while but you were far too emotional to process anything). all you do is nod your head vigorously as he gently puts the ring on finger. a perfect fit. and it glistens just perfectly in the dimming sun.

fiance!toji who then fucks you into the sunset like a stupid romantic.

[spidybaby]

erm so idk if ur reqs r open sorry if they’re not; but could u do a gavi x reader based off of footnote by conan gray like with all the angst feels

Footnote

Summary: Love doesn't always go both ways

Warnings: cursing.

Part two

Have you ever felt like things changed up for the better, but then realized you were the one who changed and not the things around you?

That's exactly how you feel.

Pablo and you were best friends since school. You two were compatible because of football, you played for the girls' team, and he was playing for the small town kids team.

You two were neighbors, so after dinner, you two would play in the neighborhood field. Your mother's would talk and joke about how you two were inseparable.

Pablo then had to move, he was welcomed at Real Betis Academy. Him and his family moved, and you were heartbroken.

Your family moved too, because your father got an amazing job opportunity in Barcelona.

You didn't expect that a few years later, you were going to be welcomed with the news that your best friend was also in Barcelona playing for the La Masia.

Pablo's mother asked yours to take care of him as Aurora and them moved back to Sevilla. You would hang out on weekdays. Those days were free for him.

So your parents and you would hang out with him at home. He even had his own room at your house.

You two would always hang and take pictures. People often mentioned how you would look so cute together.

You always laughed it off. He was your friend. No feelings involved.

Even once you overheard your mother and his talking about how she thought you were in a relationship because she caught you two hugging while watching a movie.

You told her that was just things friends do, especially you and Pablo. It was just friendly love.

You two hold hands, Pablo loves to do that. He has cold hands, and you have warm hands. So he uses your hands as a personal warmer. You would be walking normally, and he would grab your hands to make his own warm.

Pablo loves physical affection, he's always touching you. One finger wrapped around your jeans belt loop when you two are walking somewhere and you are leading the way.

Pablo loves hugs, he's always giving you or his teammates hugs. He always finds a way of hugging you.

Like when you are at the store or at a party, he would hug your waist and place his head on your shoulder.

He would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bring you to him, to embrace you as you two talk, as you two watch a movie.

Something he also loves is giving kisses. You would be doing something random. Cooking, for example. He would come behind you and kiss your shoulder.

You would be at dinner, and he would place his head on your shoulder, randomly turning to face you and kissing your skin or cheek.

Your father was someone who used to joke about how he was jealous of Pablo and always wanted the door open when you two were in your room.

You never understood what was about people comparing you to a couple.

But then it all changed.

For you, it all changed.

Pablo took you to a party. One of his friends at la masia invited him to celebrate his 20th birthday.

You knew the girlfriend of his friend, so for you it was fun to come. They liked you and knew you as Pablo's friend.

The party was fun, Pablo had a few drinks and you did too. María, the girlfriend of his friend, introduced you to some friends who were there too.

One of them has this specific interest in you and Pablo's relationship.

"So you wouldn't be mad if I flirt with him?"

"Not at all, go for it." You laugh. "Also, why would I be mad?"

"I thought you were his girlfriend or something, I mean, you two look like a couple." She smiles.

"Oh, we don't."

"No, you do." María says. "He literally came here a few minutes ago, gave you a drink, and kissed your shoulder before leaving."

"That's how he is." You smile at her. "He's like that with me because he doesn't have a girl to be clingy to."

You all laugh, finding funny how dudes do that to their female friends.

"I get it, my brother was like that, he would hug me and kiss my cheek every time because he didn't have anybody else to do it too."

"Any advice on how to approach him?"

"Just do it." You laugh, encouraging her.

You watch her approach him and start a conversation. You laugh at how you probably would have to uber yourself home.

You continue the talk with Maria and her other two friends. You sat outside and talk with them. Not caring about the time or anybody.

Inside the party, Pablo and his friends decided to play a little game to spice things up. Truth or dare.

"Fermin, truth or dare?" Adrià asks. Laughing at something Aleix said.

"I don't want to play." Fermin groans. "Joder, truth."

"Are you still a virgin?" Aleix asks, making them all laugh.

"Capullo." Fermin rolls his eyes. "I'm not, thanks to your mom." This makes them all except for Aleix laugh even harder.

"Good answer." Raul laugh. "Gavi, truth or dare?"

Gavi shakes his head, drinking his cocktail. "Not today."

"Don't be a pussy." Fermin says. "I answered."

"Well, good for you." He smirks.

"Don't be a fucking capullo." Raul says. "Truth or dare?"

He rolls his eyes, drinking the rest of his almost full drink as a shot. "Dare, hurry up."

They all look at each other, thinking what they will be asking. They all whisper and turn to him with devious smiles on their faces.

"Kiss Paula." Raul says. They all look over at where Paula is dancing. Making all these sexual movements to attract the eyes of Pablo.

"No way." He shakes his head. "She will think I want something with her."

"You say dare."

"But not that."

"Okay, then kiss someone." Fermin interrupts. "Pero hazlo, hermano." He push Pablo.

His eyes scan the place, not interested in any girl who's there. Paula was a full no. She was way too much, and Pablo didn't want to deal with a girl like her.

His eyes then found you. Entering the room with an empty drink in hand. He smiles.

"I'll kiss Y/n." He says.

He was about to walk when Raul grabbed his arm. "She doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"She's your best friend." Aleix says. "She's like used to kissing you at this point."

"I don't kiss her." Pablo says, shaking his head. They all laugh at his answer. Not believing anything. "Quit it!"

"Pablo, you are sticked to this girl all the time."

"Si, you kiss her on the face, on the shoulders, you hug her, grab her hand."

"She's my friend, only that. And from all the girls that are here, I prefer her over Paula or anyone." He says, stern tone. "And if you don't want me to kiss her then fuck off."

He's about to take a seat, but Raul pulls him and signs with his head to go for it. "But make it a good one, not a fucking peck."

"Tonge her down." Fermin says, making them all look at him with a funny face. "I mean, kiss her."

Pablo smiles and walks over to you. You and María were mixing something on your cups. You two were laughing at something.

"Preciosa, can I talk to you?" Pablo taps your waist, hands placed there to capture your attention.

"Hey!" You smile at him. "Let's take a shot." You laugh, grabbing two shots and filling them with tequila. "Pretty please, Pablito mio." You grab his hand, caressing it with your thumb.

He smiles, noticing you drunken state. "Only one, and then maybe we can leave." He grabs the shot and a piece of lemon. "Cheers."

You make a face he always found funny. You scrunch your nose and pout your lips. He laughs at that.

"It's disgusting." You stick your tonge out. "Are you having fun?"

He grabs your hand, taking you to a corner of the room. "I am having fun, but you are definitely having a lot of fun."

You nod, opening your arms to him. He laughs and gets into your arms, his hands on your hips. Lips kissing your cheeks.

He pulls away, hands grabbing your cheeks. He looks at how happy you look, with your blushy cheeks and your glossy eyes.

He goes for it.

You are too drunk to care enough about what is happening between him and you.

Too drunk to care about how one of his hands is lower than ever. How the other is pushing your neck to make you closer.

Your arms are behind his neck, one hand caressing his hair. Caressing his nape and making him shiver. His tonge fights yours in a battle nobody would win.

His friends are in wow at the scene. Not thinking Pablo would dare to ever do that.

"Should we get them a room?" Fermin asks.

You separate needing air. Pablo tries to go back to the kiss, but you just shake your head no.

He frowns, not understanding your reaction. He tries one more time. This time, you let it happen.

But not for long, you push him lightly, eyes looking at him with a questioning look. You shake your head again, hands over his chest, pushing him off of you.

"Y/n." He tries to grab your arm as you are walking away.

"I have to go." You say, taking his hand off.

He grabs your hand, making you turn to him. "Let me take you, please."

"No, I'll." You think about something. Head too out of it to think properly. "I can get home by myself."

"Your mom would kill me, let's go, preciosa."

He intertwine his hand to yours, you look down to it. What was going on?

His friends laugh at the distance, thinking that you went home together to hook up. But it was the opposite, you want to get away from him as soon as possible.

You don't talk during the drive, head replaying the kiss. The window to feel something other than confusion.

"Do you want some mcdonals? I know one that's open." He tries to get you to talk.

You shake your head. "I want to go home, por favor."

"Not even a mcflurry?"

You think for a second, stomach betraying you and roaring from the hunger you feel. Making him laugh at how you were caught up.

"What about that burger you love and some large fries?" He asks. Hand on your thigh.

You accept, knowing he was taking you to eat no matter what. You eat in silence. He thinks it's because you are drunk.

After that many years of friendship, he can tell when you are drunk or sober. Sad or happy. Mad or calm.

But he couldn't picture what was going on with you at that moment. He couldn't put two and two together and notice how you are quiet and far gone from there.

The silence during the drive repeats itself. Except this time, you caress the hand he placed on your thigh.

"We are here, safe and sound." He smiles.

You look at him. He looks different. You can't point what it is, but he's not the one you went to the party.

"Are you okay?" He asks. Noticing you wondering eyes.

You take off your seatbelt, pressing the lock of his and free him from his own. He's confused on what you are doing.

You turn your body to him, taking his face on your hands and smacking your lips on his.

You needed to feel it.

You need to feel what you felt at the party with that first kiss.

You need to confirm or deny if what you felt was just a product of your drunkenness or if it's something else.

Pablo doesn't deny the kiss. He didn't care that much, he thinks it's just a drunken thing.

You let it happen until the air was necessary, letting his lips go but not him. Your thumb caressing his cheeks.

The smirk he has is giving winner vibes, he's thinking how the boys are going to die from the show you two just pulled.

"Are you tired?" He asks, one hand caressing your hair and the other making twirls on your hair with his fingers.

You nod, letting him go off your hold and searching for your purse. He stretched his arm and grabbed it from the back, giving it to you with a smile.

"Let me walk you and say hi to your dad."

He does what he says, walking you and holding your hand like always, it was normal for the two of you.

Then why it doesn't feel like that tonight?

Why are you questioning all the other times he did that?

"Hola, papi." You say, opening the door and letting Pablo in. "I'm back."

Your dad was reading something, waiting for you like he always does when you go out. "Hi, baby." He smiles at you. "Thank you for taking care of her, Pablo."

Pablo shakes his head, smiling at your father like he always does. "I promise to take care of her."

"I'm going to sleep, I'm so tired." You interrupted the talk, not feeling like keep making stories in your head. "Bye, papi." You shake your hand yo him. "Bye, Pablo." You say, looking at him.

He winks at you, saying goodbye to you and your dad. You take a cold shower to try to wake up drop the dreams you were having.

Was this what you mother and his mother were talking about?

Are those the feelings you two were supposed to have?

✨️✨️✨️

"Hey, take this." Pablo hands you a jersey.

You take a look at it, the 30 on the back of it. You look at him with narrow eyes.

"What is this?"

He chuckles, "it's for you." He grabs it, "arms up." You lift your arms, he place the jersey on you, getting your hair out of the way and fixing it on you. "Look at that." He grabs your waist and turns you to the mirror.

He places his head on the crock of your neck, batting his lashes at you. You smile at him on the mirror.

"This is what you want me to wear to the game?"

He nods, kissing your cheek and hugging you. "You would be the only one I'll have there, so I want you to use my jersey."

You feel that weird feeling in your stomach that you have been feeling since what happened after the party.

It's been a good two months since that happened, and you still get that feeling every time he does something like this.

You decide to tease him. "I'm sure your girlfriend won't like me wearing your jersey."

He chuckles, "What girlfriend?"

"What's her name?" You act confused. "Paola? Paula? Paulina?"

"Paula is nothing to me. She's just someone I followed on insta after the party, but I don't even think she's pretty."

You open your mouth in a "o" shape, he was ruthless with that comment.

"What is pretty for you? I feel like you are so complicated to impress." You laugh. He thinks for a moment, giving a dramatic pause to the situation. "Pablo!"

"You." He smiles. "You are pretty. Very pretty."

You smile, hugging him. "Am I pretty for you, Pablo?" You mess with him. He nods smiling.

He bumps your nose with his fingers, hugging you and placing you on his lap. This was something normal for the two of you.

Nothing crazy, nothing new, just the two of you being affectioned as always. But it didn't feel like always for you.

It didn't feel like the other times.

The way Pablo called you pretty.

The way he gave you the jersey.

"I have to go. If I don't, then I'll be in trouble for being late." He laughs. "I'll see you there." He kisses your cheek.

You move from his lap, wishing him good luck and walking him to the door.

"Tell your parents I'm taking you out after the game." He hugs you goodbye.

"Will do. Score a goal for me, please." You push him jokingly out of your house.

"Only because it's for you." He laughs, waving at you and walking to his car.

You look at him leaving, the same feeling from before still there. You close the door, walking inside and finding your grandmother watching you from the living room.

"What?"

"Nothing." She lift her hands. "I like your boyfriend."

You blush at her words, "Abu, Pablo is not my boyfriend."

"He's not?" She asks, making you shake your head no. "Then what's up with the shiny eyes and the hugs?"

"What shiny eyes?" You ask, hoping she drops the conversation.

"Oh, my dear Y/n." She laughs. "You like that boy, it's so obvious."

You just laugh it out and walk back upstairs to prepare yourself. You add some makeup, some blush, concealer, natural eyeshadow, mascara, and lip oil.

You still have time to finish your writing essay. You open your computer, not sure what to write about.

You were studying literature, you love books and reading. You love poetry and the story of the books you read.

So it was the perfect choice and your father supported you idea. Helping you get into the university of Barcelona.

You write random things, but nothing good enough to convince you to do a whole piece for. Maybe a poem, maybe a little story, maybe nothing. You decide to leave it empty. You still have time.

It was time for you to go to the game. You order an Uber to get there, Pablo was bringing you home anyways.

You got to the camp nou just when they started to let people in. You texted Pablo, telling him that you were there.

He instructed you to go to the security guy and show him your pass. You do what you are told. They let you in, one showing you where the room is.

Pablo got you a vip pass, so you would be there with the family and friends of other players. You got inside, checking to see if you knew somebody.

You see Fernando, Pedri's brother. You and him knew each other because of Pablo and Pedri being friends.

"Hey, Fer."

"Hi, are you ready for the game?"

You nod, sitting next to him. "I am, so nervous."

You two make conversations during most of the game. The score was 0 - 0, so it was nothing crazy.

During the half-time, Pablo texted you that he would try to score. You answer him yo be calm and not to fight like he did in the first half.

The second half started, and just like he was ready to show off, Pablo scored a goal. You and the whole room yelled in happiness.

He kisses the barca logo on his jersey, then hugs his teammates. When you think his celebration is done, he points towards where you are.

You blush at the feeling. The way your stomach turns and you feel the heat from your heart fulfill your body.

>you like that boy, it's so obvious.<

You like Pablo.

✨️✨️✨️

You were helping Pablo with making some food. You were not the best cook, so you were a little surprised when he called you to get outside and go home with him.

You decided it was a good idea to let the intelligent equipment he has at home prepare the things while you two watch a movie.

You set the rice machine and the air frier for the food while Pablo picked a movie. "What about Iron Man?" He asks, walking into the kitchen with the control in one hand.

"Do you want to see it?" You laugh.

"Do you?" He grabs your hand and walks with you to the living room. "I want to, but if you don't, then I don't."

"I do."

You two get comfortable on the couch, his head resting on your chest and your hands combing his hair. "Let's see Iron Man 2."

You enjoy a little of the movie until you remember that you had food in the making. "Pablo, the food!" You push him by the shoulders and hurry to the kitchen.

The air frier food was good, it wasn't fully ready, but the rice was burnt. You turn to him, showing him the pot.

He scratches the back of his neck, "Why do we always mess the food up?"

You sigh, throwing the rice into the bin and putting the pot on the sink. "I can make salads, that's all I can't burn." You say, sad pout.

"Oh, princesa." He says, smiling at you while grabbing your face. "You can also find a way to burn those." He laughs.

You hit his arm playing. "You are not getting anything now, Martin."

"Let's go get something from that restaurant we like."

You grab your wallet and phone, walking with him to the car. You connect your phone to the aux. Playing some Jason Derulo.

You check the menu online. Picking something to eat and picking something for him per his request.

You know what he likes and what he dislikes on his food. What kind of ingredients he likes and what kind of thing he won't try because of texture.

"Let's eat here." You suggest. "If we go to your house, we will have to wash dishes." He agrees, walking inside with you. His hand around you to keep you close.

The host greeted you, giving you a table in a corner in order to not create commotion because of Gavi being there.

You ordered the food for the two of you, and he ordered the drinks. You talk about some games he has in Sevilla and Valencia.

"Hey, we have a little special something for you." The waitress says, leaving a bottle of Moscato next to the table and two wine glasses. "We have a little activity going on. The first couple of the night would get a free bottle of our best Moscato." She shows the bottle to the two of you, smiling. "You guys are so cute together."

You blush at the comment, everybody think you are a couple. Pablo thanks her and serves the wine into the glasses.

"I kinda want to start hanging out with you because of this." He laughs. "Free moscato and my favorite pasta with my favorite one."

His one.

You were his one and he was yours.

"Cheers." You smile, clicking the glasses together.

You feel almost bad that you are so pleased that everybody seems to think you two are a couple. You feel happiness from it.

>they're so perfect for each other<

That's what Aurora always said to everyone. That's what your mothers thought.

You feel like people around you won't find it weird if you two ended up together. You act like a couple.

>this is what friends do<

You used to say that to your mom when she finds you cuddling Pablo while watching movies.

That's what you told your dad when he questioned you because Pablo was hugging you and kissing your cheek.

That's what you told yourself every day, that what you do is what people do in a friendship.

But what you feel for him isn't friendship.

✨️✨️✨️

Five months ago, you wouldn't imagine that a drunken kiss with Pablo was going to bring you to the awaken of your feelings.

You were at a party with him. The birthday of Fermin.

Fermin and you are acquainted. You two talk and have fun together when you hang out with him and Pablo's group.

You were a little drunken than what you expected to be. You were stressed because your essay was due in two weeks, and you were not even on the title.

The stress was making you act up a little bit, so in your mind, a drink would solve all your stress and problems.

"Someone is enjoying the Party, eh?" Fermin jokes, poking your side.

"I've been so stressed, sorry." You smile at him.

"Where's your boyfriend?" He asks, looking around.

"My boyfr-" You think. "Pablo?" You ask. He nods. "Pablo is not my boyfriend."

He laughs. "Aren't you like hooking up or something?"

You blink a few times. You aren't hooking up with Pablo. You haven't even kissed him or anything since the last party you two went together.

"We aren't."

He smirks, not believing your words. "After that kiss and how you to left, we all thought you were together now."

You understood why he thought you were together, how misleading it was for you to do that. "No, he took me home."

Fermin is drunk. He's not in his five senses. So, to him, saying things right now was saying things without a filter.

"We all thought that after we dared him to kiss you, he was going to confess his feelings or something."

You feel a shiver when you hear that. They dared him to kiss you?

"You dared him?" You ask, confused.

"Si, we were playing that stupid truth or dare. And we dared him to kiss Paula, but he told us that you were his only choice to kiss."

"Wait." You say, not understanding. "You dared Pablo to kiss me that night?"

"Si, I already told you." He laughs, rolling his eyes. "He didn't want to kiss anybody else."

He grabs another beer, walking away from you while shouting at someone. You stayed there, the drink in your hand gone because you chugged it like a shot.

You serve yourself three double shots. Trying to organize your mind. Bad choice, because you walk to where Pablo is.

You need an explanation. Was everything he did with you just normal things while you thought it was more?

He was talking with Paula, laughing at something she said.

"Pablo." You interrupted. "Can I talk to you? It's kind of important."

He nods, asking Paula to excuse him. He grabbed your arm and walked with you to the side of the house. The music wasn't too loud there.

You looked at him, not understanding why he would do something like that to you. He notices how you are checking him with his frown.

"Are you okay?" His hands caress your arms. You shiver at that.

You don't answer, mind trying to find the right words to initiate the conversation. You feel the need to be honest.

"Y/n?" He asks again. "Are yo-"

"Did you kiss me because the boys dared you?"

He's the one who's quiet now. Not thinking you would ever found out about that. "Who told you?"

"Did you?" You ask again.

He sighs, hands leaving your skin. He takes a small step back. He's not sure what to tell you. To him, It was just something that you wouldn't mind if he ever confessed.

"You did." You say, shaking your head at how silent he is. You know him too well to know what that means. "Why?"

"Why does it matter?" He asks, kinda angry at the whole thing.

You feel a little something in your stomach. He didn't care like you thought he did.

"It matters to me." You say, voice low. But not low enough for him not to hear it. He did. "I was wrong." You say.

You shake your head, looking at him one last time and walking away from there. He calls your name, but you ignore it.

You walk out of the house, a lot of people were talking there. You say bye to someone who was there and you knew.

"Y/n." Pablo calls, running to you. "Wait, don't leave. You are drunk."

"Why does it matter to you?" You turn to him. "It's not like you think of people when you do things."

"What are you talking about?" He's confused at your behavior. "You are definitely too drunk. Let's go back inside and talk. I'll get you a glass of water."

"No." You take a few steps away.

He grabs your arm, making you turn and look at him. You have tears in your eyes, the feeling in your stomach intensifies.

You shake your head no, taking his hand away from your arm. You can't be around him, not when all you thought was happening was just your mind.

"Preciosa, what's wrong?"

He was so sweet without even trying. He was like that with you, but not because he likes you. Because he was your friend and was used to be like that to you.

You look at his eyes. Those beautiful hazel eyes you always say are your favorite. Those eyes your grandmother saw you daydreaming about.

"Pablo, me gustas." (I like you) you sob, you feel embarrassed because he didn't feel the same way.

He's stiff and quiet, not sure how to react. The girl who grew up with him, loving the same things he did and always supporting him, was in front of him confessing she liked him.

"You need to sober up."

You sob again, you weren't waiting for a positive answer but you weren't expecting that cold answer he gave you.

"I didn't feel like that, never." You confess. Letting your feelings go. "But then you kissed me, and I thought I was crazy, because why would you? I'm your best friend."

"Y/n, let's not-"

"And that why I kissed you in your car, because I need to confirm what I felt was real." You sob. "And it was, for me it was."

He's quiet. He can't even think of an excuse. He knew it was wrong but he never thought it was going to create this mess.

"I'm sorry because this might ruin our friendship."

He needs to say it. He needs to confess it to you. He can't let you think that there's a possibility.

"I like Paula."

You feel your heart breaking, but also a mad feeling. How can he like her?

"Paula?" You ask, making him nod. "You told me she wasn't pretty." You say in a mad tone.

"I-"

"You told me she had no personality, she was just someone you followed after the party." You are angry.

He can't defend himself. "I started talking to her and she's pretty funny and really nice."

"Pretty funny but not pretty?" You ask, the sarcastic tone evident. "You told me I was pretty, and she was not."

"You are." He tries to get close to you, but you back up. "Joder, Y/n."

"Why are you cursing me?" You try not to cry. "You did this. You kissed me and made me think that it was because you liked me."

"And I'm sorry, but I don't."

He keeps stabbing your heart. You can't help the pain you feel. You can't help but think that everything that happened in those five months was just normal things to him while you were creating a whole life.

You just stayed quiet, turning to hide the tears that were falling like a waterfall. He noticed the way your shoulders were shaking.

"Y/n," he tries to grab your shoulders. "I'm sorry I made you believe that."

You dry your tears, turning to see him again. "If I wait, could that maybe help?" You ask, shaky voice and rosey cheeks from the crying. "I can wait for you."

He scratches the back of his head, petty looking at you. "Patience won't change how I feel about you."

You nod, understanding that you lost the battle. "I'm sorry I ruined us." You whisper.

You didn't wait for him to answer. You turn and walk away, crying at the feeling. You not only got rejected but also lost your friend.

You walk home, dumb decision. But you needed the time to get yourself together before getting home.

Your parents were out so when you arrived the house was empty, you run to your room and got in the shower.

You ruined everything.

✨️✨️✨️

Your parents were worried about you.

They saw how much you changed, how you used to be all happy and blooming and now you are just quiet and with a straight face.

They also noticed how Pablo stopped coming. You weren't hanging out anymore. You weren't talking about him.

They didn't question you, thinking it was a normal friends fight, we all go through that, your father said.

But your mom noticed something else. You two couldn't be mad for more than two days, and that was exaggerating.

She tried to talk to you, but you just told her that everything was fine and that not all friendships were meant to last.

You focused on your paper, trying to drop your feelings into writing. You don't want to talk about it with anybody else.

You have to present the paper today, it was a closed activity but you were allowed to invite someone.

You invited Pablo, but for obvious reasons, he wasn't going to be there. You didn't invite anybody else. You don't share your writing with no one.

Your classmates pulled amazing papers, some wrote poems, some wrote letters, some wrote about stories, and some wrote about personal things.

"Y/n." The professor calls your name. "Your turn."

You nod, walking over to the stand, about to talk when the sound of the upstairs door called your attention.

You see who it was while adjusting the pages. You feel the cold stopping you. He was there like he promised.

"Miss Y/n, you can start now." The professor smiles. You nod.

"I-." You feel nervous. Looking at him. He smiles and puts his thumbs up, making you let out a little smile. "I wrote a piece. I'm not sure if I should call it a poem, I think it's more like a goodbye letter."

You take a deep breath, nervous to let your thoughts and feelings out.

"I title it,

Footnote."

> You said at the party that I was too drunk. I told you I liked you, you said, "Sober up." But why would I lie? It's so clear I'm in love with you.

After a tense conversation, you like someone else. I say, "If I waited, could that maybe help?" You told me that patience won't change how you felt for me.

So I'll stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship. You taught me a lesson, that love isn't precious. It's not like the novels, no Pride and Prejudice at all.

I'll just take a footnote in your life. And you could take my body. Every line I would write for you but a footnote will do.

We ate at a restaurant, and the host said we're cute. They think we're a couple, they bought us some booze, we shared the Moscato and laughed 'cause it's true... to me.

I'd be embarrassed if I weren't so pleased that everyone else sees what you never see. We're perfect together, but I'll never be the one.

Every line I would write would be for you, but a footnote in your life will do for me <

You stopped. The class clapped. You turn to see him, glossy eyes and a sad look. "Thank you."

You grab your things and exit the upstairs door of the class. Not feeling like being in the same place as him.

"Y/n, wait."

"Pablo, let's not do this more difficult." You turn. You don't want to cry in front of him again. "Thank you for coming, but you can leave."

"We need to talk."

"No, Pablo." You shake your head. "We already talked things. If you wouldn't come today and heard that you wouldn't have called."

He knows what you say it's true. He didn't even pick up the phone to check on you or to try to make things better.

"I just need time to mourn our friendship." You sigh. "I love you, and you will always be welcome at my house. You will always have me as a friend, as a support, as a shoulder to cry."

"Preciosa, please."

"But right now, I think it is best for us to be apart. I love you, bye."

"Love you too." He whispers.

You walk to your car, trying not to cry while driving. When you get home, you find your mother talking over the phone.

She noticed your tears and excused herself, running to you. "Baby, are you okay?"

You shake your head, throwing yourself into her arms, crying your feelings to her. She walks you to the couch, letting you cry yourself.

You tell her what happened, the kiss, the next months, and how you confused your feelings over Pablo. How he told you he liked someone else and even told you that time won't make him change his opinion.

"I lost him."

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl ❤️✨️

✨️✨️✨️

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title: Biggest Regret

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, F!Reader, Alfred Pennyworth, and made up character Dean Vansen.

Warnings: NONE

Prompts: in bold, credit @ bookished

Bruce Wayne was reading one of the many magazines that Alfred brought home from the grocery store, when one particular magazine caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N IS ENGAGED! THE LUCKY MAN? DEAN VANSEN.”

Bruce quickly flipped through the pages until he landed on the cover story. “Y/L/N is excited for her engagement, however, they’ve been engaged for over a year. The wedding is to take place this Friday at the First Church of Gotham.” At the bottom of the column, it showed a picture of you smiling next to your soon to be husband.

“I am so thrilled to finally be marrying the love of my life. This has been a long time coming.” -Y/L/N stated in a recent interview.

Bruce closed the magazine and tossed it on to the kitchen table. His chin rested between his thumb and forefinger. How could he have let this happen? It had been three years since he seen you last— he was sure you were still in love with him. What changed?

Three years ago, you were on the cover of magazines with him. You two were the power couple of Gotham. He was the rich billionaire playboy, and you were the sweet, beautiful, book author— you were so different from his past girlfriends.

Alfred walked into the kitchen, “I see you read the article about Miss Y/N. I believe it is time to send a congratulatory bouquet? Or perhaps a card?” The trusted butler asked, and Bruce shook his head.

“No. Better yet, I will take both of those things in person.” Bruce said as he stood up, and tightened his tie.

Alfred chuckled. “Master B, I do not think that is a wise idea. The media will be following her, and if you two are seen together, a scandal story will be written.” He said and Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s just a card, Alfred.” Bruce said before grabbing his car keys. Before Alfred could protest any further, Bruce was out the door.

Bruce picked up your favorite flowers and a card. As he drove to the five star hotel your husband-to-be owned, he remembered the last words that were shared between the two of you.

You two had just gotten into a fight and you were packing your suitcase. “Y/N, come on, don’t do this.” Bruce said as he tried to grab your arm.

You pulled away, “No! I’m tired of seeing you hang around all of those models! They act as if I don’t exist, and you don’t make me feel like I do either.”

Bruce took a step back, “Woah, wait a minute—” but before he could finish his sentence you cut him off. “Bruce, I am tired of waiting for you. I’m tired of waiting for you to decide if I’m worth having around for the rest of your life.” You say quietly.

“We have been together since we were 18. We’re 25 years old Bruce! That’s seven years of being loyal. Seven years of proving that I am worthy of the Wayne last name. Seven years of showing you that I want you! That I want to marry you, and have children.”

Tears were streaking down your face and you shut the lid to your suitcase. “I’m tired of waiting, Bruce. I waited for you to figure out what you wanted to do after highschool. I waited for you to figure things out with Wayne Enterprise. I am still waiting for you to figure out the Batman thing. When will there be room for us?” You questioned, and Bruce hung his head.

“Please, give me time, and I promise that I will take a break from it all to work on us.” He said, and you shook your head.

“This is the third time you have said it. I can’t believe your empty promises any longer.” You said before carrying the suitcase out of the shared bedroom.

————

Bruce pulled up to the hotel, and the valet offered to take his car. He shrugged them off, “I’ll only be a minute.” He said and he approached the front desk.

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in?” He asked and the clerk gave him a small smile. “She would be in the honeymoon suite. Are you here for the rehearsal dinner?” She asked and Bruce shook his head.

“No, I will just be a moment. I’m here to congratulate her.” He said.

The clerk gave him the room number and Bruce was nervous the entire elevator ride up. No matter what he told everyone, he still loved you. This whole engagement angered him, and he was genuinely upset. His heart broke when he read the headline; a part of him hoped you would leave here with him tonight.

As the elevator dinged, he got off and clutched the vase of flowers in his hands. One he reached room 312, he knocked. There’s not turning back now.

“Just a minute!” He heard your voice call from the other side of the door. It was just as sweet as he remembered. You opened the door with your phone up to your ear. When you had seen it was Bruce, you pulled the phone away from your ear. “I’m going to have to call you back.” You say before hanging up the phone.

You were more beautiful than the pictures had shown. You were stunning- glowing, and-and happy. “Bruce? What are you doing here?” You questioned.

He was tongue tied, just like he was when he first met you when he was 16 years old. Instead of answering your question, all he could say was: “Every time I see you, it feels like the first time all over again.” He whispered and all you could do was stare at him.

You opened the door allowing him to enter the suite. He came in and sat the vase of roses on the table near the door.

Slowly, you closed the door and leaned against it. “We shouldn’t be in here together, you know that.” you whispered. “Dean could be here any minute, and if the paparazzi found out you were here, there will be a made up scandal created.”

Bruce again, ignored your words, “I can’t live without you, no matter how hard I try.” He said as he approached you slowly.

There was no where for you to go, all you could do was allow him to trap you between his body and the door. “Bruce, I’m getting married tomorrow. He’s a good guy. He loves me, and-and I love him.” You whispered, and Bruce looked down at you.

“I’m sorry for what happened between us, Y/N. Not putting you first, and not asking you to marry me sooner was my biggest mistake.” He admitted, and you shook your head.

“Your biggest mistake was not putting effort into our relationship. I felt like I was on the back burner when it came to Batman, and Wayne Enterprises, and models.” You said, and Bruce shook his head.

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t do this.” He said as he rested his forehead against yours. “You keep putting me in these positions, Bruce. I’ve left two other guys, because you’ve come and expressed how wrong, and sorry you are.” You replied.

Bruce’s nose brushed yours, and you felt his lips brush gently against yours. His dark eyes glanced into yours, “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong.” You whisper against his lips.

His hand rested between your neck and cheek, “Then why does it feel so right?” He had no right to ask that question, but he did. His breath tickled your lips, and a tear rolled down your cheek. “Because I-I can’t stop loving you, no matter the consequences.” You stutter out.

Bruce pressed his lips against yours, and your lips moved against his slowly. The kiss only intensified, and before you knew it, he lifted you up off the floor. Your legs wrapped around your waist, as he pressed you against the door.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, and he groaned into the kiss. “Please. Don’t marry him. Please.” He whispered between kisses, and tears rolled down your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, “I’m sorry… I can’t do this again.”

Bruce looked into your eyes and put you back down to the floor. “I can’t ruin something that is good for me. He wants me, Bruce. He wants kids. He wants marriage. You don’t.” You say before opening the door. Bruce looked around the room, and then back at you. When he seen your gaze was dead set on the floor, he decided it was time to leave. Maybe you were right. Maybe this was good for you. Maybe Dean was the one for you.

“I’ll always love you. You’ll always be my first love, Bruce.” You said, and Bruce slowly stepped out. “I truly regret my past decisions, Y/N. But I love you. I will always love you.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Hot tears rolled down his face as he shakily pulled away from you.

You quickly closed the door and fell to your knees. Were you making the right decision?

Bruce had left, never looking back. His biggest regret would follow him for the rest of his life.

———

This was fast paced, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.

[lovelytsunoda]

mr. ghostface // lance stroll

summary: a trip to spirit halloween with her husband plants an idea in lance's head that he can't quite shake. knowing how stressed his beloved has been lately, he just wants them to have a little bit of spooky and festive fun.

pairing: lance stroll x wife! reader

warnings: straight up p*rn guys, idk what to tell you. there’s some light roleplay, but it’s done in a very playful and loving way so it’s not too intense, a few brief mentions of anxiety, two people that are truly madly and deeply in love with each other. i am going to hell for this.

authors note: i really like this one because it gave me a chance to play around with two people exploring the kinkier side of their relationship in a fun, lighthearted and carefree way, a way that works for them so they can experience the best of both worlds sexually. i had a lot of fun with this one, and now all I need is a lance in my life :)

there were few stores that y/n stroll loved more than spirit halloween. even now; as a married adult woman, there were few things she thought she could enjoy more on a fall afternoon than walking through the halloween store with her husband, a mcdonalds milkshake in one hand and her beloveds hand in the other.

lance was having the time of his life, delighting in scaring the bejesus out of his wife using the pedals that activated the animatronics. she would always jump, and clutch his arm for dear life, even if she partially knew what was coming.

wife. husband. neither of them would ever tire of calling the other, even after one year of marriage. lance was always saying things like “I’d like you to meet my wife”, or “have you met my wife yet” whenever he met someone new or reconnected with an old friend in the paddock.

their relationship seemed to have never left the honeymoon stage, bursting at the seams with love.

“babe, babe!” lance gushed, fumbling to get a hanger off the display wall. he held up the red costume corset, dangling limply off a plastic hanger. with his other hand, he grabbed the sequinned devil ears hanging above it. “you would look so fucking hot in these.”

she blushed, choking on her milkshake. “lance! outside the house? no fucking way, I’m not that bold.”

“you don’t have to wear it outside. in fact, i was hoping you’d wear it somewhere else. somewhere a little more…intimate.” lance hummed, his hands now resting on her waist, the corset back on the display wall as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“baby, i don’t even think that would fit me. that’s way too small for my ribcage, much less my boobs.” she laughed, slipping her free hand into lances back pocket and resting her head against his bicep.

lance chuckled, kissing her hairline again before reaching to the wall and grabbing a plastic mask. “oh, what about this?” he laughed, slipping the scream mask over his head and turning to his wife.

“whats your favourite scary movie?” he rasped, before breaking out into laughter. “come on, babe! we could be ghostface and casey!”

she laughed, trailing her finger up lances chest before yanking the mask off his head. he pouted playfully, and she laughed before she kissed him gently.

“absolutley not:”

“oh, I’m getting the mask.” lance insisted, taking the plastic from her.

she shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. she didn’t really care if lance bought the mask or not, she just wanted their couple costume to be a little classier than a fictional serial killer and his first victim.

“it’s your money.”

_______________

she sat at the living room desk two afternoons later, finding her attention span increasingly reaching it's breaking point as her bleary eyes wandered away from her laptop screen and towards the picture window, watching the changing leaves on the trees outside. everywhere around her, fall was settling in on the quebec countryside.

"babe!" lance's voice carried from their bedroom. "are you busy? i wanna show you something!"

technically, she was busy. she had a big project due at work, but she was practically begging the universe for a distraction at this point. closing her laptop, she pushed herself back from the table and started walking through the ranch house. the tile floor was cold against her bare feet as she passed through the kitchen, poking her head down the hallway in hopes of finding her husband.

"lance?"

she heard a closet door opening behind her, and when she turned around, she jumped, shriek piercing the air.

"you and that goddamn mask."

lance laughed, face hidden behind the white plastic ghostface mask. "sorry, babe. couldn't resist."

after her initial shock faded away, she realized that aside from the black silk pajama pants on his lower half, the mask was all that her husband was wearing.

"please don't kill me, mr. ghostface." she pouted, wrapping one slender leg around her lover's, running a hand up his bare chest, feeling every muscle and ridge. "i wanna be in the sequel." she wanted to kiss him, but with the mask, that would be hard, so she settled for gently kissing his collar bone. "what's all this for?"

lance raised an arm, pushing the mask off his face. “you’ve been really stressed lately. the other day, i watched you worry about the health implications of having onion rings with your sandwich because you were worried you haven’t been eating well this month.”

and that was true: she had been more anxious than usual, and her intrusive thoughts had been much more pervasive. she’d been trying to get back into a routine, following stretching videos on YouTube and going for walks, trying new recipes. but she was still having trouble falling asleep, keeping focussed. hell, she was even having trouble keeping the routine.

not getting lost inside her own head.

she kissed him gently, resting her body weight against him. lance still made her feel like a teenager in love, her teenage dream. even after a year of marriage there was still so much to look forward to.

like, apparently, nineties slasher roleplay in bed.

"i love you." she hummed, nuzzling into his neck.

"love you more, pretty girl." lance smiled, kissing her forehead. "take fifteen minutes and go make yourself feel sexy, i'm going to get some things out of the freezer for dinner. i'll make that pasta you like?"

“sounds like a plan.”

she tiptoed into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her before stripping out of her leggings and the baggy shirt she had been wearing, trading her cotton panties and wire bra for a short corset top and silk pajama shorts in a deep royal blue. the little silver “l” pendant that she wore around her neck fell gracefully against her skin, hair falling around her shoulders.

she could hear clattering coming from the kitchen. it was lance fumbling around to get the ground beef out of the freezer and into a bowl of cold water to defrost.

she popped open the bath and body works spray on the dresser, mist dusting her skin with body glitter. her spine tingled in anticipation of what was to come, goosebumps rising on her skin as she settled on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other so her shorts rode up, showing off more thigh than was necessary.

lance was a sucker for thighs. specifically hers.

the door creaked open, and lance crept into the room, the mask over his face once again. he paused before the end of the bed, and she was momentarily pissed off that she couldn't see the way he was looking at her. but she knew what that look in his eye would be: pure love and adoration.

"you look stunning." he whispered, his fingers ghosting over her skin as he brushed his hand up her leg, to her thigh. "hey, don't take this super seriously, okay? we're just having a bit of fun."

"i know." she took his hand in hers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "just be gentle with me."

"always."

she dropped his hand, and he brought it to her face, gently caressing her cheek as she looked down at her through the mask.

“what’s your favourite scary movie?”

“hmm, the one where I make it to the end?” she quipped, smiling up at her husband.

“oh, i think I can work with that.” he hummed, running his thumb down the side of her face, down the side of her neck, over her shoulder.

she giggled, flinching under his touch when he brushed against her neck. she had always been ticklish there.

“how are you going to make it worth my while to let you make it to a sequel?”

she uncrossed her legs, spreading them wide and leaning back on her palms. the fabric of her silken shorts had moved just so that lance could see that she wasn’t wearing any panties, a slight dark spot beginning to form on the fabric.

she could hear lance exhale, his breath reverberating against the mask. “you spread your legs pretty fast, darlin’. is this what you want? to let mr. ghostface have his way with you?”

his tone was lighthearted, his voice curling up into gentle laughter at the end of the sentence. it kept the carefree nature of their usual sex life embedded in the scene, despite its adventurous nature, which she would forever be thankful for. she could see the outline of his rapidly hardening cock through his silken pants.

“oh, yes, mr. ghostface.” she purred playfully, playing right into lance’s hands as she palmed one of her tits through the cups of the corset top. “please.”

he grabbed her leg, hiking it up and over his shoulder, dragging her to the edge of the bed and spreading her open for him. she gasped, falling back onto her forearms and pressing her chest up.

“jesus christ.” lance exhaled, his fingers brushing over her sopping entrance. “you’re dripping for me, sweetheart. is this turning you on? you want me to ravish you?”

“yes, mister, please.” she whined, pressing up against the pads of his fingertips. “touch me.”

lance slipped two fingers inside her with very little warning, barely giving her time to adjust before he started flexing his digits rapidly. she moaned under his touch, falling back against the bed.

“uh uh, darling. eyes on me. i want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”

his fingers brushed against her sensitive walls, and she bucked her hips against his hands before struggling up to her shaky arms, moaning even deeper at the sight in front of her: leg up on her husbands shoulder, the mask on his face, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he finger-fucked her.

“that’s it, my good girl. my good, beautiful girl. so good for me.” lance hummed, his thumb coming down to circle her clit. “there better not be a single anxious thought in that head of yours.”

and for the first time that day, there wasn’t. she had crumbled under lances touch, her head empty the second he had kissed her in that hallway. she loved it.

loved him.

“oh god, lance,” she breathed, allowing herself to slip out of character as she reached for his wrist. “i think I’m gonna cum!”

the hand that previously kept a bruising grip on her leg dropped to reassuringly rub circles on her thigh. “I’ve got you, love. just close your eyes and ride out. cum on my fingers, you know you want to.”

she closed her eyes, arching her back as she felt her pussy contract, sucking lances fingers in and refusing to let go as she fell apart around him, whining his name as he scissored his fingers, dropping her leg and trying to guide her through her climax.

he withdrew his fingers, now covered in her release, making sure that his wife was watching before he lifted the mask just enough for her to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, sucking up every last drop.

she whined at the sight, and would have clenched her thighs together if not for lances leg holding them open. instead, she found herself grinding against his thigh as he lovingly cradled her wrist against the mattress, leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“you’re so good, pretty girl. so perfect for me in every way. i hope you know that.”

“I know.” she giggled, pressing against him again. “thank you for doing this:”

lances nimble fingers slipped underneath the lacy cups of her top, taking her nipples in between his fingers. she writhed under him, exhaling his name.

“you don’t have to thank me, pretty girl. you just need to scream my name.”

“that can be arranged.” she was certain that her shorts were soaked; they would need some extra stain removal methods when she did the laundry.

lance could feel it too; a dark spot forming on his pants where she rubbed against him. he was starting to sweat under the mask, his hair matted to his face and his breathing heavy.

he slipped a finger underneath her bra strap, teasingly dragging it down her shoulder. she shivered under the sensations, knowing full well how she must look.

lust-drunk, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, pupils dilated.

and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

normally she’d be above begging. but not tonight. not while he was looming over her and fulfilling a fantasy she didn’t even realize that she had.

"please, please, i need your cock." she whined. "i need to be fucked, mr. ghostface. please."

under the mask, lance smirked. he wished he could kiss her, feel her whine into his mouth. “baby, baby, you never need to beg for me. because that means I’m not treating you right.”

“then put your cock in me!” she whined, nudging him with her leg.

chuckling to himself, lance pulled her shorts down her legs, dropping them to the carpet before he got up and slowly shed his own. his wife watched from the bed, butting her lip so hard he thought she might draw blood as she watched his rock-hard cock slap against his abs.

she couldn’t help it, one hand gently palming her clit as she watched lance stalk towards the bed, his breathing loud from inside the mask. despite the lack of control there appeared to be, she knew that she was 100% in control of what was about to happen.

lance gently pushed her hand away from her swollen clit, crossing her wrists over each other and holding them down with one hand. her breath hitched as he ran his cock up and down her folds, her hips bucking, trying to take what little he was giving her.

“are you ready for my cock, princess? are you ready to fucking scream my name?”

“yes, lance, please stop teasing me.”

he slid home in one swift movement, switching his grip on her wrists so that he had one wrist in each hand as he roughly drove into her.

her eyes practically rolled back in her skull as she moaned, her tight center squeezing his cock.

“oh, fuck.” she breathed, closing her eyes with an exhale. “fuck, you feel so good inside me. so deep.”

“you’re doing such a good job, pretty girl. you’re taking me like such a good girl.” lance praised, thrusting harder before loosening his grip on her wrists. “take off the mask, baby. I know you want to. let me kiss you.”

she reached up with one hand, eyes bleary from the pleasure she was feeling as she grabbed on to the black hood of the mask, gently tugging until the mask fell away.

“oh no, now I know your face.” she joked, playing along with the scene. “whatever will I do now? please don’t kill me mr. ghostface.”

lance laughed, leaning down to kiss her. he but down gently on her lip, sucking her bottom lip in between his own. “well, we have two options. I can make you my partner in crime.” he paused, reaching down to pinch her swollen clit. she jumped, squealing in pleasure. his hand still pinned one of her wrists to the bed, the other hand leaving red marks on his shoulder as he continued to pound into her. “or I could make you cum so hard that you forget my face and decide not to turn me in.”

she giggled, pretending to think it over. “I think I’ll take the orgasm.”

“good choice.”

she wrapped her legs around him, pulling his dick even deeper inside of her. he let go of her wrist, bracing himself on the bed while she dug her nails hard into his back, leaving scratches behind. he dropped his lips to her neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to her ticklish skin. she giggled, squirming underneath him.

lance loved it when she laughed during sex. to him, there was nothing sexier than seeing his wife let go. no anxiety, no self-consciousness. it made him feel close to her.

“my beautiful wife.” he grunted, rutting into her hard enough to push her body up the bed. she whined his name, arching her back to press her nipples against his chest.

the skin to skin was what she loved the most. that feeling of being as close as you possibly can to another person.

“oh, baby, right there.” it came out broken and raspy, and she found herself trying to hide her face in her husbands neck. “fuck, that feels so good.”

her walls fluttered, and lances thrusts faltered as he struggled to hold himself up. “are you close, baby? it’s okay, I’ve got you. you can let go.”

she clung on to him for dear life, skin flushed and juices dripping down her thighs. she couldn’t form words, nothing but incoherent whining coming out of her throat. she felt so full, so loved, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap as lance presses his lips to hers, sucking on her bottom lip and bringing one hand down to rub circles on her clit.

“lance, I’m cumming!” she cried, her nails digging into his back as she wrapped her body around him, shutting her eyes tightly as she pressed her face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. you did so well, princess. you looked so pretty with my cock inside you.” he said softly, kissing her forehead as he guided her through it, feeling himself start to reach his own limits. “where do you want me to finish, pretty girl?”

she barely had the energy to respond, still trying to get her breath back as her legs shook from overstimulation, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. “inside me, please, god, I need it.”

“fucking hell.” lance grunted, thrusting faster, his balls slapping against her sensitive skin as he went. “god I love you.”

he moaned as he dropped his head, nuzzling into her neck as he came with a howl, his cock jerking as it painted her walls white with his release. he stilled, peppering her face in kisses.

“I love you, baby. I don’t like seeing you stressed.”

she hummed, tangling her fingers in his hair and looking up at her husband. “I love you, too. thank you for saving me from myself.”

lance pulled out gently, his wife whimpering at the newfound feeling of emptiness. she clenched her thighs together, watching as her lover got up from the bed, pulling his silk pants back on.

“oh, babe, put in different pants.” she laughed, playfully throwing the ghostface mask in his direction. “those ones are probably gross as shit right now.”

“they’re not as bad as yours.” he shrugged, fishing a clean cotton t-shirt out of their shared dresser. there was something so casually intimate about sharing a dresser. “come on, let’s get you out of that corset.”

she sat up, pulling the comforter over her bottom half as she lazily leaned back into lances touch. his fingers glided down her back, unhooking the corset clasps and kissing over the red marks where the hooks had dug into her back. she raised her arms and he slipped the shirt over her head, watching the fabric billow gently over her features.

lance settled in next to her, and she rested her head against his chest, gently tracing his tattoo with her fingertip.

fortune favours the bold.

“you work too hard. it’s not healthy.” he hummed.

she sighed, leaning into his touch as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I know. once this project has been handled, the big boss is giving us some time off.”

“that’s good. maybe we can go somewhere. it doesn’t have to be anything big, maybe maine or calgary?”

“yeah, that sounds nice.” she rolled over, supporting her weight on her forearm. “thanks for this, by the way. and for keeping it fun.”

“of course. any time you want me to do all of the thinking for you, just let me know. that’s what husbands are for.” lance slowly started to sit up, easing her back down to the bed to remind her that she needed rest. “I’m gonna go start dinner. go to the bathroom, have a glass of water, and remember to rest, okay? I’ll wake you when it’s ready.”

she smiled, rubbing his arm gently as she looked up at her husband “or I could come to the kitchen and watch. you know I think it’s so hot when you cook, especially when you do it shirtless.”

“oh yeah? maybe I should get a chefs outfit for the next time we spice it up a little.”

“in your goddamn dreams.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @thatsdemko @oconso @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silversainz @silverstonesainz

[eyesxxyou]

❝ all mine ❞

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. ex!hobie, you cheat on miguel, mentions of fighting, highkey toxic relationship, mentions of sex, hobie being a little shit trying to get you back. you made your decision, thought things were over between you and hobie brown for good. but was your decision really the right one?

wc: 3.3k

You shouldn't be here.

You know you shouldn't be here but you knew he loved this place in all its shitty, humid glory. You knew he'd be here. You couldn't help yourself. Something within the pit of your gut told you to get up and find your way here the moment you saw that post with a caption talking about him stopping by his old haunts before he left the country...leaving you and everything you both once held dear to find a new adventure. Something deep and carnal, something you thought had long died the moment you decided that he was becoming too much; too insatiable, too unpredictable. What you had once loved had become a burden you could no longer handle.

He texted you too. Just seconds after making the most.

'We should catch up.'

So why did you come here? Why did you seek him out?

Maybe you didn't. Maybe you simply wanted to take in this place one last time before he went, revive some long-buried memories you had stored away for your own sanity. Maybe you were seeking closure, the stitches to a wound left fresh and gaping so you could return to your adoring boyfriend at home with a heart that didn't belong to him. He'd play it off like he had it the whole time, place it under his pillow with another man's name carved into the flesh.

It hurt. The way Miguel gave you his all and you couldn't return such affections. He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He was sweet, attentive to your needs, had generally the same core values as you. He was the safe bet, the type who wouldn't make plans last second without a hint of rational thought and just hope that they end well. Maybe you got with Miguel — his overplanning self — to compensate for your ex's utter disregard and borderline carelessness. He was impulsive, just looking for the next high to make him feel alive.

But you had been his partner in crime. He was ready to do it all with you. 

"___, long time no see. How have you been?" The bartender greets her like an old friend. He's an older man, seen all of your shenanigans with your ex. Had to kick the two of you out a couple of times but almost always welcomed the two of you back the next time you came around. It's been a little over a year now. He had seen you two argue more times than he could count on both hands but no fight seemed as permanent as the final one. You'd fight, stop talking for a few days until one of you came back to apologize and the routine act of make-up sex would commence.

You shrugged with a sigh, glancing vaguely around the dimmed bar as if trying to catch sight of something. Everything was just the same. Nothing changed. Your picture was still hanging up behind the bar along with a dozen others. You two were kissing. He held your waist, hands under your shirt as he held you close. Your fingers were splayed across his cheeks as you held his face, a hint of a smile against his lips as he kissed you. You two were drunk off your asses that night, nearly drunk the whole bar, passed out right where you're sitting. The picture of the two of you sleeping with your faces smushed against the bar was right next to the picture of you kissing.

"Oh- I've been fine. Y'know just...living life." You sighed, tracing your finger in imaginary shapes across the splintered wood. "You remember my usual?" You offer a smile and he returns in. "Of course, darlin'. Just give me a moment." His smile was old and worn but warm. "I haven't seen Hobie yet…if you're here for him." He grabs a glass, places a single ice cube inside of it.

You find your shoulders tensing in defense but you don't deny anything. You know he'd see right through your farce. It's no coincidence you decided to take a stroll down memory lane the same night your ex happens to be in town in the very place you knew he was likely to be. But you don't confirm his suspicions. Plausible deniability and all that. Silence befalls you as you watch him mix your cocktail and slide it down the way toward you. All with a little cherry on top.

Hobie used to pluck the cherry by the stem from your drink. He'd hold it to your lips and have you eat the cherry whole. Then he'd kiss you. He'd take the stem from your tongue and tie it against yours. He was always so good with his tongue, tracing hearts across your skin as he made his way down your naval.

You reached into your bag to pull out your card — or rather — the card Miguel had lent you to use. He was sweet like that; gave you his card when you went out. Kissed you softly and told you to have fun when you claim you were going out with friends. He trusted you with unwavering solitude. His confidence in your loyalty and faithfulness was something you didn't deserve.

You know it when a hand comes to drop a bill on the counter before you can take the honors.

"When have I ever let’cha pay for a drink, doll?" His voice sends shivers down your spine. Over a year and it's like you were never separated. Every muscle, even molecule, every atom in your body still gravitated towards him like a magnet. He was the negative to your positive, the moon to your sun. Something just clicked into place and you aren't exactly sure what it is but it makes you feel complete once more. 

He takes a seat stool covered in cracking leather starting to reveal the beige foam padding underneath. He looks different yet exactly as you had left him. His hair was still full and wild and beautiful. The rest was just the same. Same soft, droopy eyes that disappear when he smiles. Lovely, broad nose, and his lips. Oh– his lips were something otherworldly. They looked just as soft as when they last met yours, when they last pulled back to reveal teeth that sank into your skin. Lips that once murmured "I love you" and whispered false promises of the future you've always dreamed of. You and him with a baby, a family of your own. He promised he'd give that to you but you knew better than to trust the sweetened lies that passed by his lips. Hobie wasn't the type so settle in one place, live somewhere quiet and quaint and start a family. 

Hobie stared at you as if you were simply a memory he had reconstructed before his own eyes. A gaze soft and tender yet the lopsided smile displayed across his lips told a different story. He was certainly happy to see you, that some part of you still belonged to him, still sought him out given the chance. "___." He saw the way you flinched, turned away from him so maybe he wouldn't catch the longing in your eyes. You missed him more than you should. You shouldn't be here. "Hobie."

"Oh...don' be so tense, sweetheart." Hobie scoffed with careless dismissal. He reached out, a hand on top of yours to soothe your nerves. "Yer a sight for sore eyes. I's amazing to see ya again." Better to simply let things be. He'd never have hard feelings for you, no matter the bad your fights had gotten. You had left him abruptly, cut your ties to him with brutal efficiency in the heat of the moment. Hobie figured that was the end of it, no use in trying to get a deaf person to hear reason.

"Stephen," Hobie spoke to the bartender. "Beer, please." He slid the bartender his 20 and in passing, caught a glimpse of the card you had tossed out. "Miguel...tha’cha new boyfriend?" You try to search for some semblance of jealousy somewhere in his misty eyes or across his sculpted features but there was none. He just awaited your answer, maybe to figure out what reaction he'd have to that. Funny...he was always the type to assume first and ask questions later.

"Yeah."

"Good for you, dove. Wha’s he like? Are ya happy wit’ ‘im?" There could have very well been jealousy somewhere in the heart of his, residual possessiveness he still hasn't gotten rid of. But maybe there was a part of him that just wanted to be assured that you were okay. As...terribly complicated and sometimes toxic as Hobie and your relationship with him was. Neither of you ever wished ill on each other no mater the circumstance. Even when you left, when you packed your bags and told him to go fuck himself. You never meant the things you said. You both knew it.

Are you happy with Miguel? You felt that you should be. He's everything you wanted on paper, everything that Hobie wasn't. But that's just it, isn't it? He isn't Hobie. He doesn't get that wild look in his eyes when he gets an idea. He doesn't make haphazard plans with no regard for consequences. Hobie lives in the moment. Miguel lives for a future that isn't guaranteed. 

Hobie knows you too well. He sees the way you hesitate with your answer and speaks again. "I just wanna make sure my girl is being well taken care of." You realize that he doesn't give any indication of being jealous because he knows you still belong to him. He's not threatened by Miguel because if you were truly as devoted and loyal to him as you were to Hobie, you wouldn't be here. Wouldn't have even thought of coming.

You sip softly on your drink before the ice can start to melt, snatching up the card from the counter to place it back in your bag. "Because you took such great care of me."

"I took amazin’ care of ya and ya know it." Hobie had his drink in his hand before he knew it. A quick nod to Stephen in appreciation before the man walked away to give them time alone. "I took care of you, dolli." He whispered softly, gripping the bottle neck with his long, slender fingers. "Don't lie."

"You didn't care about anyone but yourself, Hobie."

"Can we not, righ’ now?" He murmured, pressing the rim to his lips to take a sip. "I came back to catch up wit’ ya, not spark another argument. And tha's not true. I care ‘bout’cha more than anyone." You take note to how he says it in the present tense. He cares about you, not cared. 

You sigh, lips pursing against your crytaline glass. "Fine. How has traveling been?" You won't open that can of worms. Problems that went unsolved will remain as such. Maybe it was intentional. Neither of you would be able to find closure and move on if such wounds remained open and untreated. It was intentional on both ends. You weren't ready to let go, even if the pain still remained.

"Incredibly lonely, actually." He admitted, the whisper of a woeful smile crossing the lips you had once adored so much. "Not much fun when you have no one t’share it with." You two had always talked about traveling the world together. Paris, Rome, Tokyo, anywhere your fickle hearts desired.

Sometimes you'd lay awake at night, your head resting upon Miguel's chest, and wonder what life might have been like if you had left with Hobie. Where you might have been and who you might have been if you had simply gone off with him. He had tried to get you to go. Showed up on your doorstep with the keys to his boat and a plan to sail down the English Canal to France, professed his love to you and begged you to come with him. Leave your whole life behind and just start anew like it was just that easy.

Maybe it was that easy.

"Paris was nice but i’ would have been even better with you. So would Barcelona and Rome. 'm going to Berlin next. Leaving early tomorrow. ‘m sure tha’ll be lonely too." You know his bed has been kept quite warm no doubt with men and women and everyone in between alike. The thought makes you sick, green with jealousy. He was yours before he was anyone else's. You wanted to mark him, litter his throat with teeth marks and hickeys so that whoever had the honor of having him would know that he was already owned.

Yet, he claimed he was lonely. He wanted you. He only wanted you. Why else would he have come back? It wasn't just for the shits and giggles or trying to "catch up". Hobie wanted you to go with him though he wouldn't say that outright. 

There was a beat of silence between the two of you before Hobie spoke again. "It wasn't all that bad, was it? To you at least? We had our downs but we had way more ups." He nudged you softly with one of those smiles that made your heart flutter and skip vital beats. You thought you just might die if he moved any closer to you.

"If by downs you mean telling each other to go to hell and me nearly throwing a vase at your head then sure, we've had our downs." You aren't proud of some of the things you've done...of a lot of the things you've done. You aren't proud that you're here and not at home, reading Miguel's sweet message of goodnight accompanied by a picture of him in bed. "Please do tell me what our ups were."

"Oh, we've had plenty. ‘m so disappoin’ed you've forgotten so easily." Hobie places a hand on his chest with an exaggerated offense. "Am I really tha’ forgettable?"

No. You wanted to say with quick, biting passion. Hobie was the least forgettable person you've ever met in all aspects. But you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "I don't know, Bee. Maybe I'm in need of a reminder." Now you've gone into flirting with him and you didn't feel bad about it in the slightest. How can you feel bad as Hobie downs the rest of his drink and stands up with the prettiest grin you've ever seen in your life? The same mischievous grin he got when a new idea was sparked in that brilliantly dangerous mind of his. He takes your hand and drags you off of your stool. You stumble along with him, his hand tightly secured around yours as he takes you to the middle of the bar.

You remember this. You remember him putting coins in the old jukebox to play your song, quickly returning to you to take you up into his arms. Your right hand in his left while his right came around to rest of the small of your back. He'd pull you close, smiling with wild joy and youth and the two of you would dance however you so chose.

You missed him. God, you missed him and you hated it. You hated how he touched you with such familiarity. Knew you better than anyone else in the world. You hated that he kissed the corner of your lips and you did nothing to stop him. You hated that you knew this was a ploy to get you back and how you hoped that feelings could override the logical part of your mind and you could convince yourself to go back.

"Is this reminder enough for ya?" He leaned in and whispered into your ear, swaying carefully with you in his hold. Your lips are pressed to his shoulder and you can smell the cologne he had put on just for you, your favorite. He's wearing the shirt and vest you said looks best on him and the jeans you said you liked the very most on him. And of course, the boots he never goes anywhere without. Pulling out all the stops.

It's more than enough, yet, you play coy. "Vaguely."

Hobie likes it when you play coy. You hear him sigh slowly into your ear. "Ya remember the time when I made you miss tha’ flight to go see your parents for the holidays?" He spent nearly an hour between your legs, ravishing your body with orgasm after orgasm until your thighs were trembling around his head. "Or when we got that bottle of champagne and you let me pour it on you." Then he proceeded to lick it up from your diaphragm and naval. "Open." He had muttered and, on command, your mouth had opened up and you let him pour champagne into your mouth. 

"Hobie." Your tone warns him but he's quick to bite. "What? Too many good memories?"

"I have a boyfriend."

"Then why are you here, ___?" He snaps maybe with a bit of unnecessary harshness. It's all too easy for the two of your to start arguments. "If ya love yer new boyfriend so fuckin’ much then why are ya here to see me?"

You look away in shame because you know he's right. Your heart hasn't beat this fast since the last time you saw Hobie. It almost feels like it hasn't even moved since then. He left a vacant hole in your chest, took your heart with him but it was an even exchange in his opinion because he left his with you to fill the space he left behind.

Two fingers are on your chin and your face is being brought back to his. It takes you by surprise, how quickly he kisses you. His lips are just as soft as you remembered and even softer than they look. They still taste like mint and a touch of beer. You can tell he's been dying to do this since the moment he saw you and you can't say that you didn't want to either. You melt into him, let him have his way because you want his way too.

"All mine." He whispers, lips hovering over yours before he dove back in. All his. His hand once in yours now comes around the back of your neck to draw you closer. It was home. This was all you've been waiting for for months upon months, maybe waiting for him to come back for you. Well- he has and you still don't have your answer. But Hobie's always been rather good at persuading you, his tongue gently stroking over yours to coax you to agree.

"Come back t’my boat." He attempts to get you to say a small yes now. A frog in a pot of water. He was just starting to crank up the heat. 

"You know I can't." You manage to say between muffled kisses. Hobie remains persistent. "Of course, ya can, dove. 'm not asking ya to do backflips all the way there, jus’ come with me." That's how it started. Come with me to the dock, get on the boat, sail away with me. Next thing you know you're in a whole nother country. His voice was so sweet though. It's always been his secret weapon, whispering in your ear with that slight airy tease in his tone.

"Come with me...just for tonight." The two of you still swayed together to the rhythm of the song as it slowly began to come to an end. Between gentle pecks from his pillow-y lips to yours, he kept staring at you, begging you to cave just this one time. But it's never just the one time with him. You know this. You know it won't just stop with this. It's why you left. He had too much power, could make you do anything short of killing someone with enough charm. Look how easily you feel back in.

"Okay...just for tonight.”

[roses-r-rosie3]

Two Animal Obsessed Idiots

Jason Todd x M!/GN!Reader

Warnings: Crack and swearing

Summary: The reader and Damian are both obsessed with animals, so while Jason is out on a mission, the reader and Damian start to go to all different types of animal stores and little do they know there’s no more room left in Wayne Manor nor Jason and the reader’s apartment

Quote: “Hold on Damian is in on this?! Oh that little brat is gonna- HOLY SHIT IS THAT A LION?!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Jason first introduced you to his family, everyone in his family loved you. But one person in particular was really interested in you, and his name was Damian. You both shared a love for animals, so it wasn’t much of a surprise for anyone in the family when you and Damian got really close.

Some days, Damian would come to both you and Jason’s apartment just to hang out with your pets. Talking about your pets, you already had at least 4 dogs, 2 cats, and 1 bunny. But it never really felt like you had enough animals, of course you loved all of the animals you had now, but you needed more. And when you asked Jason..

“NO! NO! NO! WE ARE NOT SPENDING MORE MONEY ON ANOTHER ANIMAL!” Jason yelled.

“But just look at it!!!” You said as you pulled up a picture of the 2nd bunny you wanted.

“Most of our apartment is already filled to the brim with animals! And you want more?!” Jason asked.

“Yes! You can never have enough!” You tried to explain.

“I can’t do this right now y/n, I have to go on a mission today” Jason sighed.

“Fine” you pouted.

“Don’t be such a big baby” Jason smiled before kissing you.

“See you in a couple weeks baby” Jason smiled before leaving.

After Jason left you were left on the couch petting your dogs and wondering what to do with your free time. But that’s when you got a phone call from Damian.

“Hi y/n, Todd is out on a mission, and I was thinking that we go to all types of different pet stores and getting more pets” Damian suggested.

“I would love to, but Jason told me I couldn’t get any more animals” You sighed

Damian just bursted out laughing.

“What is he? Your dad? Come on! It’ll be fun” Damian said.

“Fine, why not, what’s the worst that could happen?”

You ended up picking up Damian from Wayne Manor, and you guys ended up with at least 16 new dogs, 17 new cats, 5 new bunnies, 3 new birds, 23 new pet fishes, 13 new hamsters, and somehow you both adopted 2 lions(don’t ask how, but just know it wasn’t an easy process).

When you both got to Wayne Manor, you two could let half of the pets there, so you had no choice but to take the rest to your house. Surprisingly, all of them fit in your apartment, sure you probably didn’t have much space to relax but who would need to? To your surprise, the lion was rather friendly with the rest of the animals, And then you heard a knock at the door.

“Y/n? Can you open the door for me? I think I left the keys in there while I was out on the mission” Jason asked.

“Uhhh, yeah! In a bit!” You yelled out as you tried to shove all the animals into one room.

“Oh never mind it was just in my pocket!” Jason said.

“Wait! Uhh! I’m.. uhh… naked!” You said.

“Y/n I’ve seen you naked before, I’m pretty sure it’s fine” Jason sighed as he opened the door to see new animals in your apartment.

“Y/n! I thought I told you that we couldn’t get new animals!” Jason scolded.

“Yeah, but Damian said it was fine and we could-”

“Hold on Damian is in on this?! Oh that little brat is gonna- HOLY SHIT IS THAT A LION?!” Jason screamed before running off to the lobby.

The lion tilted it’s head in confusion and you laid next to it, petting it.

“Don’t worry buddy, he’ll warm up to you” you smiled as you patted it.

Extras:

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Five-Finger Discount (Dean/Reader)

Title: Five-Finger Discount

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Dean x Female Reader

Summary: It's supposed to be a simple case. A little undercover. A little burglary. A little spell. Dash of salt and burn. No muss, no fuss. So, why the hell are you getting these uncontrollable thoughts about Dean's... hands?

Word Count: 10,300

Tags: Hand & Finger Kink, Dean Winchester is a Scoundrel, Dean gets a Manicure, Fluff and Humor, Shameless Smut of the Finger Variety, Dean Winchester Talks Dirty

Notes: Because Jensen just can’t keep his hands to himself. See notes on AO3 for the offender/crime in question.

A persistent tapping on your bedroom door awakens you. It could be late evening or early morning in the windowless bunker.

Before you can check your phone for the actual time, Dean’s voice calls your name from the other side of the door.

You groan. Whatever time it is, it’s not ‘wakey wakey eggs and bakey’ time. “What?”

“Got word from Sam. He’s figured out what’s been killing the inmates in NSP.”

You sit up and feel for the lamp switch. After a turn and snick , you mumble, “Let there be light.” Your voice raises in answer to Dean. “That’s great.”

“Well, not that great.” The conversation is still happening through the closed door. “Sam figures it’s a ghost of a prisoner that died behind bars in 1870.”

“Why not great? Did you want more of a challenge? Ghosts are a milk run.”

You can hear the dramatic sigh, picture the tilt back and forth of his head, and the way his mouth mimics either you or Sam when the sarcasm leans on the excessive. Which is kind of ironic coming from the King of Snark. “Can I come in? You decent?”

“Yes.”

It’s definitely the middle of the night when you get a look at him. Dean’s hair is mussed. There are cheek and chin creases from scuba pillow diving when he sleeps on his stomach. “You got something formal to wear?”

“Huh?”

“A gown, dress, something promish or wedding worthy?”

“Promish?” That question reply to his question earns you a broad stance with hands on hips like a superhero as Dean stares you down. You twirl both hands around to remind him of the non-existent storage space in the bunker. Which should not be a thing in such a huge fortress where men dressed in three piece suits on the daily. “Sure. I have a whole rack of them hanging in my walk-in closet.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, smart ass. Well, we’re gonna have to go do this thing in less than twenty-four hours that needs you in a dress and me in a tux.”

You suck in your lips and try not to laugh at how pissed Dean appears at the thought.

“It’s a charity fundraiser in Lincoln,” he continues. “We have to act like a couple of out-of-state spenders with deep pockets to get our hands on the Hand of Glory that belonged to this ghost.”

“What about Sam? I bet he’d look much better in a dress than I would.”

Dean shrugs. “He’s got the hair for it. But we can’t risk somebody making him.”

Of course. The one time Sam goes investigating on his own. He posed as an FBI agent and poked around too many people. 

You and Dean are going to have to go shopping. The all-out kind. Max out a stolen credit card at the mall kind.

Dean is gonna be miserable. You can’t wait. Grumpy Dean, for some reason, is very entertaining.

“How about you in the dress and me in the tux?” you offer.

“I don’t have the legs for it.” Dean shakes his head. “Get a few more hours of sleep. Gonna be a busy day.”

You’ve been around Sam and Dean for a long time. Long enough to have gotten a little numb and even blase regarding certain things.

The dangers of a hunt. The stench of death. The amount of blood a beheaded vamp body can ooze.

As you tick the tasks off for the heist with a trip to a dress shop earlier and currently helping Dean pick out a tux, another thing you’ve become indifferent to smacks you right in the goddamn face.

The hotness of the Winchester brothers.

You were talking with the owner of the suit store when Dean parted the curtains of the fitting booth he’d been in for five minutes.

And there it was, dressed to the nines, cutting a fine figure in a black tuxedo. 

The plain as day fact of how unfucking-believably gorgeous Dean Winchester is.

Stephen, well-dressed and highly animated, claps hands in front of his face. “Oh. Wow, that is, it’s like you stepped right off the cover of GQ magazine,” he gushes at Dean. “Turn around, turn around.”

Dean blushes, spins on his heels, and averts your and Stephen’s gaze. You’re glad because you can feel the warmth racing over your own cheeks.

“Sir, that is screaming perfection. I don’t even think it needs to be taken in. It’s like a second skin.” You’d think Stephen was buttering him up for a sale if he was overexaggerating. But, he wasn’t.

“Well, good, cause it’s not like we’ve got time for a tailor,” Dean huffs. Then, you hear, “You’re awfully quiet. What do you think?”

“I-yeah-it’ll do.”

After Dean swipes the key card, he steps aside and lets you pass the threshold first.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

The suite is swanky. No motels for you on this trip. You’ve got to keep up appearances, after all.

Windows that meet the ceiling give you a sweet view of downtown Lincoln. It’s not the New York skyline, but everything looks impressive from a higher vantage.

Dean pushes the squeaky luggage cart. The door clicks closed solidly behind him. “Alright. We got a few hours to get ourselves presentable. Then we head on over to the Sheldon Museum of Art.” He hangs the garment bags containing his tux and your dress in the closet. The duffle bags each get a chuck onto the king-size bed.

You nod at the reminder. Sam will be at the fundraiser as well. Between the ruse of you and Dean as the wealthy Mitchums from Kansas and Sam’s Agent Dion, you’re confident the case will be resolved before another not-so-innocent victim dies. “Too bad we can’t really enjoy a stay at a place like this.”

“Eh, overpriced. I can’t wait to get home to the bunker. It’s a lot nicer.” He rolls the cart back toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few.”

He’s gone before you can quibble with Dean over your and his idea of luxury. But yours does have windows, excessive amounts of pillows, and room service.

Dean returns to find you’ve commandeered the entire vanity counter with makeup. He chuckles. “Never seen you put any of this crap on before. Do you even know how?”

“Asshole.” You thwack his tummy, but clenched stomach muscles anticipated the retaliation. “I’ll wear makeup for this case out of necessity. I don’t believe in going into debt to keep up with the latest beauty trend. This stuff costs a fortune.”

Dean picks up a packet of press-on nails and looks at the price tag. “Well, hopefully, it’s all worth it.”

As Dean inspects your haul, you notice the dirt under his own nails. “Your hands,” you state.

“Huh?” Dean’s brow furrows. He puts down the box and stares at his fingers.

“Those aren’t the hands of a millionaire.”

He smiles. “I’ve got a great rags to riches story I can use. You see, one day I was shootin’ at some food, and up for the ground came a bubblin’...”

“Ooor, you can look the part.” You cut off his recounting of how the Beverly Hillbillies came to be and sweep a hand in his direction. “Hurry up and shower. I’ll do your nails.”

His eyes bug out. “Do my nails?”

“Relax. Just gonna tidy them up. No polish. Although there’s nothing wrong with a little color on a guy’s nails. But maybe not for this event. We don’t need you to stand out too much.” You think about how he looked in that tux and realize how much he will stand out already at least in your mind. He’s still blinking at you, processing what’s about to happen. “Well, hurry up, Jeb. That oil ain’t gonna find itself.”

You gulp at the sight of a freshly scrubbed, washed, towel-dried Dean. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this. You’ve seen him just out of a shower with his white t-shirt and sweatpants when you’ve been hunting on the road.

Maybe it’s the change of scenery. No motel. No mildew smells. No obnoxiously loud wallpaper to mask the soot and stains. No revving engines or wheels peeling right outside the door. None of the things that usually overwhelm and distract your senses.

His entire face is scrunched up in confused awe. Tools are neatly lined atop a towel on the small island by the kitchenette. Not the usual gun-cleaning ones, though. You clear your throat and pat the breakfast stool beside your seated frame.

“Is this gonna hurt?” he asks.

“Just a little detailing is all.”

He sits and eyes you warily.

A gimme gesture requests his left hand. He provides it, resting his fingers over the bridge of support yours creates. You try not to flinch in surprise at the warmth and weight. It’s not like you’ve never touched him before. But, you’ve never had the opportunity for contact to linger.

You lean down and in, lifting his fingers in inspection and deciding your plan of attack. Damn. They’re, well, you wonder how you haven’t noticed how big they are. His entire hand dwarfs yours in comparison. Dean’s a big dude. He is not as tall as Sam, but considering they’re both over six feet, you shouldn’t be surprised that his digits are substantial. You picture Sam’s hands in your mind’s eye in the usual situations. Tapping away on a keyboard. Flipping through their dad’s journal pages or some gigantic volume of lore in the bunker. Those fingers are long, but their slender and taut, proportionate to Sam’s body type and size. Jolly Green Giant size.

Dean’s? Well, it’s not that they don’t match Dean. They’re beefy, thick, and solid. All the things Dean is. But they’re more like a jumbo sausage sandwich than a hot dog that’s a little too big for the bun. Even the width of his palm seems way above average.

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s question calls out and you wonder how long you’ve been staring at his freaking hands.

“Nothing,” you mumble.

You get to work, using a nail brush that’s been soaking in a bowl of warm, sudsy water. A sturdy grip wraps around two of Dean’s fingers - it’s all you can comfortably manage - and the bristles scrub back and forth in quick passes.

Dean chortles. His fingers pull back slightly. The look on his face is one of surprise. You grin and ask, “Did that tickle?”

He snorts. “What? No. I’m not ticklish.”

“Mm-hmm.” You tug his fingers toward the brush. “Hold still then.” You continue the process. Dip the brush in the water bowl. Play Dean’s fingers like a washboard. And you delight in how his jaw clenches and body squirms. He does an adorable shimmy shake that starts at the shoulders and ends with an ass cha-cha. But you only let the torture go on for a minute or two. “Okay. Give them another wash. Then we’ll clip ‘em, file and buff, and these nails will scream private prep school and ivy league polo.”

He rises. “As long as there’s no more brushing.” He punctuates how serious he is about that with one of those fingers right at your mouth.

You swallow the urge to bite that finger.

For someone who was uncertain about the thought of a manicure earlier, Dean is back in a hurry to continue the process. You exaggeratedly shake the nail brush out of the soapy water bowl and softball it into the stainless steel sink a yard away. It clangs about like a noon bell. You raise both hands, “I’m unarmed.”

He snickers, “Not so sure.” He skirts his gaze over the remaining items. “Sharp and stabby things.”

“You have used clippers before. You’re not an actual Cro-Magnon that drags knuckles on the ground and runs nails along some flint.” You grab one stool and carry it to the other side of the island, settling into position for the next step. “Sit and stop acting like a baby.”

“Damn,” he murmurs, following orders and taking his seat from before.

“Hands,” you request.

He harrumphs and splays his fingers atop the terry towel, like a cat stretching and digging in with their claws. His hands are creamy colored and speckled pink from the washing and scrubbing. Ten digits tap along the cloth in wait. And you stare, longer than you should.

What in the holy hell is going on? They’re fingers for chrissakes. The same fingers you’ve seen on Dean all the time, day after day in the bunker or in the car or on a hunt. It’s not like he got a hand transplant or something.

“Come on, Madge.” Dean snaps two of those fingers together. “This is where you’re supposed to tell me I was soaking in it.”

“Huh?”

He rolls his eyes. “Softens hands while you do the dishes?” He adds to the dramatics and unhinges his jaw. “Come on, we’re the same age. You gotta remember that commercial? Palmolive?”

“Oh, right.” You feign recollection, inhale to steady yourself and grab his left hand. It’s down to business time. “I’ve only lost five of my last six clients. Nothing to worry about.”

“Quite the comedian,” he razzes back.

“I am. Apparently you could learn a thing or two from me. The first? A punchline isn’t funny if you have to explain it.”

“Yeah, well…” He begins.

“Maybe come at me with ‘your face is a punchline’?” you suggest.

His lids blink in confusion. “It’s not, though.”

For some reason that shuts you both up.

You spend the next minutes manipulating each of Dean’s fingers, one by one in your palm as you clip. Tick, tick, tick. You give the nails a nice straight edge and round out the sides. His nails are stumpy, boxy and twice the width of yours. His skin is calloused, toughened in the spots you expect. From the thousands of hours he’s gripped Baby’s steering wheel, handled a shotgun, cranked a wrench, slid into the trigger of his Colt. But they are soft in other spots. The patterns of lines criss crossing and connecting like a terrain map enthrall you.

He’s quiet. Watching you work. You’ve forgotten to be mouthy for this bit. It’s hard to focus on anything but this and his breathing. You’ve forgotten the basic steps of inhaling and exhaling.

It’s when you’ve moved on to filing that Dean remembers how to word. “You’re good at this.”

“I should be,” you croak out then clear your throat. “I did my older sister’s nails all the time growing up.”

“Hm, I guess Sammy didn’t get the little brother memo about doing my nails.”

I grin up at him. “Maybe you should have had him watch that Palmolive commercial.”

His laugh is soft. His eyes gleam with that hint of mischief he dons when there is no imminent threat. When life is as close to normal as possible. You wonder what it would be like to take those hands and place them around your waist. Guide him to hold you steady, secure.

He opens his mouth, stops to lick his top lip.

It’s taking everything in your power to not catapult over the island and slam your lips against his.

He finally speaks. “We should get ready.”

And your daydreaming dissipates just like that.   

Two hours later, you and Sam wait outside the St. Charbel Chapel in Calvary Catholic Cemetery. It’s the closest church and holy ground from the museum Sam had found in his research.

A fire truck zooms down a nearby street, siren wailing.

You wait for Dean. 

Things had not gone according to plan.

At the fundraiser, Sam got cornered near the crudités by a Lancaster County Sheriff’s Office deputy. From what you overheard, Sam’s cover had been blown. He was in imminent danger of being arrested by Deputy Dickens for impersonating a federal agent. Dean was off in one of the acquisition storage rooms searching for the Hand of Glory.

You all were SOL.

You did what any hunter interested in self-preservation would do. Walked over to the nearest fire alarm and inconspicuously pulled the lever. Alarms went off. In the chaos of disgruntled partygoers filing out of the building, Sam dropped the deputy to the ground with a combo shoulder check and leg sweep. You were down on the floor in a flash, asking the lawman if he was alright. Before he could reply, you held a handkerchief doused with your travel-size bottle of chloroform to his mouth and nose. A clutch could only hold so much—such an inconvenience.

Sam pushed the passed-out deputy under the appetizer station’s floor-length tablecloth. You both did a hurried power walk past the crowd gathered in front of the museum. Sam tried his best to slow down his stride enough for you to keep up wearing heels. At least you only had four blocks to cover to end up at the cemetery, the agreed-upon meetup location.

You pace in wait. “He’ll be here,” Sam states with conviction.

You never want to leave a man behind. Especially not Dean.

Sure enough, Dean’s shadowed figure jogs up the cemetery walk in the dark minutes later. You recognize his panting first.

Sam shines a light in Dean’s direction. He’s a bit disheveled from whatever he had to do to skip out of the museum undetected. The hair, styled in a neat part earlier, is now askew.

“Guessing I have you two to thank for having to hop out a bathroom window and into thorny rose bushes.”

You shrug. “Sam was about to get handcuffed.”

Dean ponders for a moment. “Context is important to determine whether that’s good or bad for Sam.”

“Dean, come on, did you get it?” Sam asks with an impatient wave of his hand.

Dean pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and flaps it open with a wrist snap. He pulls out a gnarled, desiccated object under his jacket's lapel. “I did get it, using my five-finger discount.”

The burning ritual had at least gone smoother than the rest of the evening. Sam dropped the two of you around the back of the hotel in his rental car. You both had left Baby in the connected garage and taken a cab to the museum. 

“See you all at the bunker.” He smiles, energized, and pumped from a successful hunt. He’s glowing and adorable. You realize you have gotta dial back the internal ogling of your hunting partners and quick or it’s gonna get all kinds of uncomfortable in your head.

“See ya, Sammy.” Dean grins and salutes.

“Don’t take too long to get out of town.” Sam advises, flicks his bangs out of his eye line with a shampoo commercial head whip, then peels off with a wave.

The key card lets you sneak in through the poolside.

The ride up the elevator starts quiet. You spend the time zoning out and staring at the tapered triangle of shoulder and back that makes up Dean’s tuxedo jacket.

So, dialing back the ogling is going great.

“You looked really good tonight,” Dean murmurs. You catch his gaze in the door’s reflective surface. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “you still look really good. I never got the chance to tell ya earlier.”

The attention straightens your posture. You adjust the spaghetti strap of your little black dress. “Thanks.” It’s all you can think of to respond. You tear your focus away from the eye crinkles, now the newest sexy thing you’ve failed to notice. It’s safer to inspect the corners of the floor for dust. The small enclosed space heats due to Dean Winchester occupying it.

The elevator dings and you hold in a sigh of relief. You exit first, then halt so he leads. You trail behind him in silence to the room. He opens the door. Your steps scoot past his body.

“Got time to change?” Hopeful, you’re already rifling through your duffel for your jeans and flannel.

“Sam’s right. We should probably bolt.”

You groan.

“Let’s put some miles between us and Lincoln.” It’s not really a suggestion.

“Fine.” You give in, knowing he’s right.

You aren’t tired on the drive back. The sense of accomplishment after a successful case turns most hunters into live wires, you included. 

You and Dean have been chatting about the hunt. The lackluster food at the fundraiser. Sam’s impressive Latin skills. An apparent millionaire whose breath stunk like a month old convenience store burrito. And you knew what one of those smelled like from unfortunate firsthand experience. The conversation switches to some repairs that need to be done around the bunker. A casserole recipe on Pinterest you want to try. Who’s going to get the treat of washing all the MOL classic cars in the garage. The topics pogo all over the place. You love these moments with the brothers. 

You’re an hour and some change out from Lincoln, halfway to Lebanon, when Dean has an idea.

His finger wags at a mile marker. “There’s a decent bar in Bruning. Wanna grab a drink to celebrate?”

You stare at his unbuttoned tux jacket, then your dress. “Like this?”

“Sure. Why not?” It’s not really a question as he takes the exit.

You drew the line at wearing heels in the bar. Dean grabbed your worn cowboy boots from Baby’s trunk. He leaned against the car beside your open passenger door. You tugged on boots, leaned forward, giving any passersby a free show down the front of your dress. Arms folded, Dean scowled and puffed out his chest to any male who dared to glance in your direction.

A minute later you both entered the bar and did the usual routine without speaking. Head to respective bathrooms. Clean up and make yourselves respectable looking. But as you blotted your foundation and appreciated the staying power of your makeup in the mirror - okay, maybe that setting spray was worth the price - you considered who you were making yourself respectable for?

It’s not like either one of you were expecting to get lucky tonight. The bunker was less than two hours away. No one was gonna pick up a local and take them back to their motel room.

You applied a fresh coat of red berry lipstick.

So, that left only you and Dean freshening up for… each other?

You scoffed at the ridiculous idea, ran fingers through your hair.

A drink. One drink. To celebrate a job well done.

“That’s all it is,” you mumble.

You’ve played darts for an hour. Dean’s on his third whiskey. You’ve downed four fruity rum concoctions, mainly because you loved hearing Dean order the drink. 

Entertainment was the least he could do after beating you for the sixth time.

The waitress stops at your high top and grabs the empty plates and glasses. “What else can I get you two?”

Dean clutches a dart, deep in focus, squinting at the target board. “You wanna nother Bahama Mama?”

You suppress a giggle and smile at the waitress. “Just more water. Thanks.”

“We should probably load up on the grease before we head home.” Dean peers at the waitress over a shoulder. “Maybe some fries, darlin’, to go along with one last shot of whiskey?”

“Sure thing, sugar.” She smiles, then waits for Dean to turn around before eyeing his backside in approval. With a grin, she taps your bare forearm. “Lucky you,” she whispers.

You are lucky. But not for the reason the waitress thinks. Being around Sam and Dean means safety and security. The eye candy is merely a bonus. One you are debating if you should indulge in more often or continue to restrict your caloric intake.

After all, there’s nothing wrong with appreciating a work of art.

Dean had flung his necktie in Baby’s backseat and unbuttoned his collar during the drive. The casual way he now wore the tux was even more attractive. “Probably a good idea if you lay off the alcohol. It’s definitely affecting your game tonight.” He grins.

You lean your heavy weighted head against a palm for support. “Yeah, must b’it,” you slur, more than you like. Your gaze zones in on his fingers gripping the dart. Those damn fingers have been a distraction all night. He has to be unaware he’s sabotaging any ability to focus. Dean is an outright flirt with his targets. You’ve seen him lay on the charm thick and sticky the same way he slaps peanut butter and jelly on white bread. Subtlety has never been his thing.

Speaking of targets. The dart launches out of his hand and lands dead center. “That’s what I’m talkin’ bout.” Dean performs the ka-ching motion for what feels like the hundredth time that night. Normally, it’s annoying, but you battle your lids open to stare at his clenched fist in awe. Again. He slides onto the bar stool and inspects you with a concerned smile. “You usually drink me under the table. Sure you’re okay?”

“Fine.” You hum. 

The waitress whizzes by and deposits Dean’s shot and a basket of fries. Dean’s voice floats in the air expressing his thanks to, you think he says, Linda. Then a pointed order hits you right in the face. “Hey, eat something. I ain’t carrying you to the car like some swoony duchess on those shows you binge.”

“They’ve got carriages, not cars.” You blink over and over and straighten up. A handful of fries fill your mouth. Your brain hasn’t caught up in time to tell you to shut up and chew. “Yud make a ghood ake.”

“What?” Dean smiles at you like he’s happened across his favorite Scooby-Doo episode while channel surfing.

You gulp down the gluey mashed goodness. “You’d make a good rake.”

“What’s that? Some kind of man servant? I was a handmaiden once.” He indulges in some of the fries before you eat them all. Those fingers push them past his lips.

“No. A rake’s-” You huff at the gall when he attentively licks the grease off his thumb. His tongue is quite, um, “Nimble.”

He frowns, obviously confused. “A rake’s nimble?”

You shake out the cobwebs in your brain, tripping you up with a collision of thoughts. “A rake’s a ladies’ man,” you mutter.

His spine stiffens, shoulders pop back in pride. “I do try to please the ladies every chance I get.”

“We are all well aware.” More fries thankfully save you from saying anything that may humiliate.

“Guess those aren’t your favorite characters. You probably like the stuffy types that are all serious, with their noses up in the air or stuck in a book.”

You shrug. “Nah, I go for the rogues.”

One of Dean’s brows quirk up. “The dangerous type?” One side of his mouth lifts as well.

“Yeah, a scoundrel. You know, the one you can’t quite figure out. They’ve got this bad reputation or some sordid past. But, they go after what they want. Take what they want.” You hum again and close your eyes. You can still see Dean’s grin in your mind’s eye.

“Too bad I don’t fit the bill.”

You freeze. Eyes still closed. He didn’t just… did he?

“I mean. It’d be all kinds of wrong. Me going for something I wanted, damn the consequences.”

You inhale and grip the curve of the table top. You open your eyes to find him sipping at his whiskey. “Don’t fuck with me,” you whisper.

He gives you a toe curling smile now. The glass clinks onto the table. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m not your type.”

“I-wh-” It’s too late. You’ve never been on the receiving end of what is most definitely Dean Winchester flirting. “What makes you think that?”

He leans in. His breath meets your inhale and you take in all the spice and warmth. “I wouldn’t do a thing to mess this up. Not unless, you know, I knew.”

You nod, dumbstruck. “Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, yeah.” A whoosh of fatigue makes your head spin.

Dean smiles. “We live together, hunt together. Packed like sardines together twenty-four seven sometimes. Wouldn’t want to mess any of that up. Unless I knew, you know?”

“Knew what?” Your chin drops to your chest despite your best efforts. The weight of your body gets ready to do a face plant on the table top. You squish your lids shut tight and groan in horror at the inevitable.

But, Dean is there to save you. Again. His fingers swoop in to cradle your jaw and lift up your head. The embarrassment and alcohol finally overtake you. As you fade, you hear, “Maybe I’ll tell you when you’ll remember the answer.”

You woke up in your bed, back at the bunker. Again, with no idea if it was morning or night. No idea how much time had passed since…

You spring upright to sit. And, yeah, that was a mistake. Your head pounds. Your mouth is dry and tacky. Your stomach feels like it got turned upside down. Not that much time has passed since…

You groan and lay back down, slow and gentle. You piece the last snippets of memory together.

You stare up at the ceiling, grateful for the darkness. You want it to suck you up whole.

Did you pass out in the middle of Dean hitting on you? Did Dean end up swooping you up and putting you in the Impala? Driving you home passed out in the back seat - or God forbid the front passenger seat with you lolling about, mouth probably open and drooling - then carrying you throughout the bunker to your bedroom? Did he…?

You pat your chest and feel the spaghetti straps and silky fabric of your little black dress. You sigh. He had taken pity on you and only stripped you of your cowboy boots.

There’s a soft tap on your bedroom door.

“Oh no.” You pull the blanket over your head, mortified. You don’t think you can face him.

But it’s not Dean that says your name. It’s Sam.

“You alright? I heard you… uh… moaning.”

“Yeah,” you squeak. “Hungover.”

You think you hear Sam snicker. “Dean said you outpaced him by a mile. In darts and drinks.”

That makes you pause to recall. No, you definitely don’t think any of that’s accurate.

“He made some breakfast before he went out, if you’re hungry.”

Great, he can’t bear to face you, either. “Thanks, Sam.”

“If you’re up for it later, I could use some assistance researching.”

You take a measured breath to quell the nausea. “I’ll let you know.”

You’d chewed some aspirin and drank glass after glass of water from the sink in your room and somehow passed out for a few more hours.

You drag yourself out of bed around noon and shower in an effort to resemble something close to human. The stomach growls lead you to the bunker kitchen. At first, you smile at the plate of pancakes Dean covered with a clean kitchen towel for you. A frown follows at the odd shape of them. They aren’t his usual silver dollar pancakes stacked six high.

You tilt your head, attempting to figure out what Buttermilk Banksy was trying to create. The two pancakes, side by side on a large plate, obviously started out as circles. But then, four long tendrils were added along the top of each and a little offshoot one on the side. A turkey? Why the hell would Dean make turkeys? It wasn’t anywhere near Thanksgiving time.

“‘Bout time, sleepy head.” Dean’s voice wafts in from the doorway. He strolls in without a care in the world. There’s no hesitancy to lock eyes with you. Which is good. That has to mean you didn’t make more of a fool of yourself than you remember. He tugs on the fridge door. “Do you want something else or those pancakes enough?” He’s asking the interior of the refrigerator more than you, his head circling the shelves. “Was gonna pile on the grease but thought you might need to take it easy after last night.”

“No, this is great. Thank you.” You keep your voice low, hoping he’ll get the hint and not make too much noise.

He seems to, clicking the door shut softly after grabbing a cold slice of pizza. “Oh, I thought we’d do a movie night in the Dean cave. I bought angus ground beef for burgers. I’ll make some potato wedges. Grabbed your favorite microwave popcorn, movie theater butter.”

The menu, miraculously, doesn’t make your stomach lurch into panicked somersaults. “None of that sounds Sam approved.”

“He’s got that author signing book store thing in Stockton tonight.”

Oh, right. You’d forgotten for a moment how excited Sam was to listen to some guy read a chapter from his book on the evils of the Federalist Society.

“Think you’ll be up for it?” Dean asks, brows raised hopeful.

You smile. “I think I will.”

“Good.” He captures a third of the pizza slice in one bite. After four chews and a swallow he finishes with, “I’ll go easy on you.” The grin he flashes catches you off guard. It’s that one that if Sam saw it, he’d suspect you and Dean had a secret.

Problem was, you didn’t know what the secret was.

“We got weapons to clean in an hour. No matter what Sam says about research.” Dean taps the door sill on the way out of the kitchen. “Meet you in the library. Don’t be late.” He disappears.

You stare down at your breakfast, which is now technically lunch, and a queasy feeling erupts. But not from the hangover or the thought of eating.

The pancakes Dean made. You think you know what the shapes are now.

A pair of hands.

Time in the library with Sam and Dean is pure torture. 

You’re sat equidistant between the two of them, in the middle of one of the long massive wooden tables. Sam is on one end, flipping through page after page of a volume on corporal punishment. He’s trying to work out an easy cheat sheet - a work flow chart - that you all can use in the future. If you can identify what crime someone was charged with committing way back when, you’d have a better idea of the dismembered mummified appendage to track.

Dean occupies the other head of the table. A worn cloth laid out in front of him, all manner of weapons lined in a neat row atop it, awaiting his hands.

His hands. God, you hope the pancakes were merely a cheeky, inside joke on Dean’s part. Maybe it was a reminder about your insistence on the manicure. Or the friggin’ Palmolive commercial that, thanks Dean, you can’t get out of your head either. Because now all you can think about is Dean’s massive fingers dipped in a teeny tiny glass bowl filled with sudsy dish detergent. 

Between Sam’s page turns and Dean’s clink of weapons your brain can’t settle or calm down. You’re also trying to appease both hunters. You’re reading through a book on your right and sharpening a machete on your left. 

“That jugglin’ act might leave you with more than a paper cut if you aren’t careful,” Dean chides.

You swallow down the urge to quip something back. It’s only when the whetstone clears the curve of the machete and halts at the tip that you tear your gaze from the task and stare at Dean. “I can handle it.”

He smirks. “Oh, I’m sure you can HANDle it.” He shrugs. “Just wouldn’t want you to lose a FINGER.”

“How about you quit distracting her? She’s doing you a favor.” Sam’s brows lift pointedly at Dean. “And besides, why do you insist on cleaning weapons here when you could literally be doing it anywhere else in the bunker?”

Dean curls up the fakest smile at Sam. “Cause I love your company.” 

The boys settle after a few more grunts and scoffs at each other. You plunge nose deep into lore and wish the pages were waves pulling you out to sea. 

There’s no way Dean’s emphasis on “hand” and “finger” were accidental. Dean’s pretty intuitive. But you are a pretty good actor in your own right when you need to be. However, there’s still a chance that you said or did something when you were too intoxicated to remember.

It’s not helping that Dean’s performing his weapon cleaning like a goddamn seduction. Mr. Hand Model takes apart the sawed off, cleans the inside of and around the barrel, reassembles, and clicks all the pieces back into place. His nails look perfect, shiny and slick with the gun oil. His beefy fingers curl around the wood and steel in a way that makes you want to trade places with the firearm.

You somehow endure for 45 minutes. Last night’s indulgences are blamed in an excuse to head back to your bedroom. As you preemptively wish Sam an enjoyable outing later, Dean reminds you to rest up for dinner and a movie.

Ugh. You know how Dean gets when he won’t let something go that he finds hilarious. This could go on for a while.

It’s a trap. It’s gotta be.

Dean’s lowering your defenses with good food and good company.

It all started in the kitchen where dinner was served. He wasn’t kidding about the burgers. He made quarter pound medium rare works of art with cheese and all the toppings. The bun was Texas Toasted out. The guy even used the air fryer to produce ridiculously addicting potato wedges with a spicy paprika and chili powder coating.

Then, it was Dean cave time. No beer in sight, you were given pop to drink, with an offhanded “no repeat performance of last night” remark. You slid down the couch, groaning, pulling the hoodie over your face for dramatic effect. He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl sitting between you on the couch and added, “You know, so you don’t pass out midway through the movie.”

You inhale the buttery goodness beside you and relax, popping back up in your seat. A swig of sugar wakes up your lethargic post-meal brain and settles the nerves that Dean is up to something. “So, what masterpiece do you have for us tonight?” you query.

He presses a button on one remote and the lights dim. Another remote in hand, another button press, and the television screen blares with an all too familiar soundtrack.

“The Empire Strikes Back.” You nod. “Good choice.”

“It’s your favorite one,” Dean reminds you.

“Yeah. Yoda. Duh.”

Dean chuckles.

Things fall into that easy going movie commentary that you and Dean are so fond of doing. It drives Sam crazy when he's watching stuff with the two of you. You’re spouting behind the scenes facts you know you’ve told Dean a half a dozen times already (like how the puppeteer who’s voicing Yoda also voices your favorite muppet, Fozzie Bear). Dean adds his own sound effects when the AT-ATs are firing, points out every Wilhelm scream, and helps Harrison Ford out by quoting all of Solo’s lines.

Leia is fixing some equipment on the Falcon and you comment, “I like the braid updo more than the cinnamon rolls.”

“Eh, I don’t know. The combo of beauty and baked goods is pretty hard to beat.”

Solo walks in and tries to help. Leia pushes him away. You sigh. “Here they go.”

Dean turns to you and raises an eyebrow. In perfect sync with Solo’s dialogue he utters, “Hey Your Worship, I’m only trying to help.”

You eye roll. “Would you please stop calling me that?” If it's a quote battle Dean wants, it’s on. If Sam were here, he’d be so done with the both of you right now.

“Sure, Leia.”

A huff for good measure. “You make it so difficult sometimes.”

Dean leans in. “I do, I really do. You could be a little nicer, though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I’m all right.”

Wait. Wait. Oh no. You don’t have to be looking at the screen to know what happens next. Leia hurts her HAND trying to turn a lever. You clam up at all the fucking context this scene now holds for you and Dean. You can’t say the next lines. Because you know that Solo grabs Leia’s HAND as she says, “Occasionally, maybe… when you aren’t acting like a scoundrel.”

That’s when last night’s rum-infested confessions cut to the front of the memory queue. You adore scoundrels, rogues.

Dean doesn’t miss a beat, though. He even gazes down at one of your HANDS. He continues the performance. “Scoundrel?” Face half cast in shadow, his lids widen, irises still manage to catch the light and entrance you. “Scoundrel?” A huge grin emerges. “I like the sound of that.”

Solo is massaging Leia’s HAND the whole time.

Leia whispers, “Stop that.”

Dean replies, “Stop what?” Though he’s not questioning the screen. He’s locked eyes with you. Daring you to break away first.

Leia answers, even softer. “Stop that. My hands are dirty.”

Dean tilts his head, uncaring. “My hands are dirty, too. What are you afraid of?”

“Afraid?” Oh, Leia, Don’t egg him on.

“You’re trembling,” Dean’s voice is softer. He’s edging closer, but there’s only so much distance he can cover with the popcorn bowl in the way.

You decide now’s as good a time as any to try and act your way out of a paper bag. “I’m not trembling.” You coat your response with steel.

Dean is only encouraged by your participation. “You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

You ponder for a moment. “I happen to like nice men.”

“I’m nice men.” Dean offers with complete sincerity.

You scoff. “No, you’re not. You’re…”

The music swells. Solo and Leia kiss.

But, you and Dean just stare at each other, for what feels like an eternity. You know C3PO is gonna interrupt the lovebirds at any moment. It’s the only lifeline you have, so you wait for the robot with the worst timing in history to save you from embarrassment.

“Guys?” Sam’s voice calls from the hallway.

You snap, stick straight, your back pressed against the seat. Sam must have come in through the garage.

Dean sighs. “Yeah, Sammy. Come on in. Back so soon?”

The door flings open. Warm ceiling lights from the hall halo Sam’s figure. “You know how they say, never meet your heroes? Totally valid advice tonight.” Sam stumbles into the room, all lanky limbs, and sinks into the cushy side chair. He runs fingers through his hair, his profile scrutinizing the screen. “Jedi?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Seriously, dude, how are we related?”

The three of you watch the rest of the movie without much commentary.

And you and Dean do not quote any other lines.

You cleaned up the dinner mess, alone, in the kitchen. You insisted it was the least you could do and Dean didn’t put up much resistance.

You find Dean’s bedroom door open on your way to your own for the night. You stop in the doorway to thank him again.

He’s putting away some shirts in his dresser, back turned. He looks comfy, cozy, showered, and perfect. You compose yourself in a split second when he senses you and cocks his head to the door. “Hey, everything okay?”

It’s his usual question, always assuming something needs fixing or solving. But, you sense extra concern in the tone this time.

You nod, wanting to ease the tide of Dean Winchester’s worry. “Thank you. Tonight was fun.”

“Yeah, even with Chewbacca?”

You chuckle. “Be nice.”

He waves you in as he wraps up his laundry. You oblige and sit by the tiny corner table. “Yeah, you’re right. Solo actually wouldn’t mind Chewy hanging out with him and Leia.”

You smile. Apparently, it’s Star Wars character dissection time. “So, if Sam’s not Chewbacca…”

The drawer squeaks closed. “Luke.”

“Han doesn’t mind Luke. Annoyed, sometimes. But, everyone annoys Han at one point or another.”

Dean sits at the edge of the bed, facing you. He stretches, hands entwined and arms raised overhead. A white t-shirt hugs his form here and there. You get a glimpse of perky nipples pressing against fabric. “Luke was competition. Before the brother-sister bombshell,” Dean states.

“Yeah, guess so.”

“But, the three of them, they made a good team,” Dean continues.

You nod, deliberate and slow.

“It only takes one person to start getting feelings for another one in the trio and then the whole galaxy is in jeopardy.” Dean taps the pads of his fingers together.

You sigh. You didn’t want to have to rat yourself out. But, Dean’s got a point. So, how do you go about telling him you’re finding him unbelievably attractive all of a sudden? And how do you ease his apparent worry? What, you’ll do your best to keep it in check? It won’t interfere with the work you do?

“We’re a good team, right? You, me, Sammy?” Dean cuts through the silence with the questions. He scrubs at the nape of his neck.

“I-I’d like to think so. But, you’re right, Dean. It can throw the whole balance off in a good working relationship if someone starts to catch feelings that aren’t reciprocated.”

His eyebrows form a distraught mountain peak. “So, it’s true?”

He looks so unhappy at the possibility, but you’ve gotta be an adult about it. “It just started happening during the last case.” You shrug. “But, I don’t have any intention of acting on them.” A hand raises. “Don’t worry.”

His lips purse tight. Nostrils flare. He’s deep in thought. Finally, he says, “But, you won’t know if you don’t act on it.” He nods more to convince himself now. “You should talk to Sam about how you feel.”

You blink, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Hey, I gave it a ‘good ole high school dropout that earned his GED’ try. We have established that I am not your type.”

“Wha-?”

“I’ll be fine with the two of you being a thing. I want to see you and Sam happy. If that means you both, together, that’s great.”

Your hands circle in front of you. “Whoa, whoa. Back up a minute.” Suddenly, your heart is racing.

“What?” He’s got that vacant puppy dog expression, every muscle in his face relaxed, wide open eyes.

You steady your breathing. “What made you think you were my type?” You can’t help the question. You only hope it doesn’t sound belittling or sarcastic. Right now, it’s your last defense of self-protection and attempt at fact finding. You gotta know if you are misinterpreting the revelation that Dean may in fact be upset if you and Sam were an item. Because… he wants you two to be an item?!

“You were acting… weird… ever since Lincoln and the manicure.” He twiddles his fingers. “I was picking up signals that weren’t there, I guess.” He shakes his head and mumbles. “Or, I probably was looking too hard to find something that wasn’t there. Like those times you tell me I’m sniffing around the wrong dog’s butt.”

You squish your lids at how crass you can be. It’s giving you less reasons to think he could find you attractive in any capacity. “Okay, but why was that so important to know?”

His arms extend from side to side. He’s getting riled up and more than a little miffed. But, you know that might work in your favor. His mouth tends to run on autopilot and the truth comes flying out. “Our, I don’t know, petri dish of co-existing in this jack-in-the-box wouldn’t get fucked up. I wouldn’t go off half-cocked and do something I’ve been wanting to do for a while unless I knew, for sure, that you felt the same way I did.” His hands retract and fall in his lap. He’s not looking at you, instead staring at his socked feet. “But, you don’t.”

You’ve got actual fucking butterflies beating their wings like bongo drums in your stomach. “What have you wanted to do for a while?”

His eyes track up to you. He’s inspecting you, hard. That’s doing nothing to quell the excitement inside. “What’s the point in telling you that now?”

“Because, maybe… you’re wrong and… you are my type.”

Dean’s lids lift a quarter of an inch. It’s a minute, micro reaction. But you catch it.

“Maybe I’ve been ignoring it for a while, because, like you. I didn’t want to mess things up. I love Sam.” You swallow, ready to bare all. “But, I haven’t been thinking about what his hands could do to me,” you whisper.

Dean inhales, sharp and quick through his nose at that confession. He exhales, adding, “Don’t fuck with me.”

You can’t do anything but grin in a way that you’re sure makes you look like a goddamn idiot. “I should have said that to you numerous times today. The pancakes. The gun cleaning. Freakin’ Han massaging Leia’s HAND!”

His lids widen. “Hey, it was me testing my theory. Like when we gotta douse someone with holy water to make sure they aren’t possessed. All but the movie, though. Swear I did not remember that scene until a few seconds before it started happening.” He sits up, rubs palms on his sweatpant clad thighs. “Well, okay, I didn’t remember the hand thing, but I wanted to see how you reacted to like THE best scoundrel ever.” Now, he’s grinning. “Been thinkin’ about my hands, huh?”

You roll your eyes merely to play along. “Alright, don’t get a big head.”

He cocks his head like a devilish rogue. “No need for a big head when I’ve got big hands.”

The giggle escapes before you can lasso it.

Dean slides his gaze up your seated frame. It’s a filthy, seedy expression. And hot as fuck. He stops to stare at your mouth, then licks his own. When his eyes meet yours, he commands, “Come on over and show me what you’ve been thinking of.” He pats his thighs. “I’ve got a nice warm seat for ya.”

He’s kidding, right? He wants you to sit on his lap. As if you’d even consider it.

And, yeah, you aren’t considering it. There’s no time for consideration when your legs have already propelled you out of the seat. You give his bedroom door a swing in a passing thought about closing it for privacy.

You can see the look of surprise on Dean’s face as you march over to the bed. But it’s mixed with want and eagerness. He opens his arms in welcome.

Warmth prickles your cheeks at the forwardness you display in accepting the invitation. One knee props up on the bed beside him. You anchor hands onto his shoulders, feel those fingers fan and lock onto your waist, and you bring the rest of your body up to straddle his lap.

You sigh, staring down at that kid in a candy store grin of his, and marvel at how very right it all feels. You settle, your ass firmly atop his thighs. The heat of him is immediate.

“Been wanting you like this,” he whispers, his nose brushing the skin exposed around your collar. A hand molds to the side of your neck, holding you in place. You shiver at the lips skirting upwards along the channel of your throat. “Now who��s ticklish?” It’s meant to tease, but his voice has lost that hint of mirth. It’s deeper, daring you to deny his observation as anything other than fact. “Maybe you aren’t ready for my hands. All.” A kiss at the juncture where your lobe meets your jaw. “Over.” A peck at the tip of your chin. He threads his fingers into the base of your hairline. He eases your head with a smooth tilt down. You lock eyes with his green ones once again. “You.”

The only response you can give is to connect your lips to his. Feeling the pliant, soft give of his mouth against yours. Then his insistent lean up and forward, forcing you to stand your ground while seated on his lap. You have to demonstrate your want is equal to his.

And you want. You so want.

Whatever you’re doing, his approving moan eggs you to continue. With each swipe and dip and dive of your lips, your mouth opens a bit more. The access encourages Dean’s tongue to taste. He laps at you gently, swirls around just enough that your core begins to ache. He pulls away and you groan. You’re drunk with desire, heavy and heady. 

Your lids blink open slow and sleepy. Thankfully you find Dean’s looking as blissed out as you feel. He’s inspecting your reaction through a hazy gaze. His hand captures the side of your face. Five pressure points sink into your skin. His eyes flicker to your mouth to watch his thumb outline the curve of your lip. The pad tugs and drags at your skin.

It’s only a second of wordless communication between the two of you. He asks with a lifting of his lids. You agree with an affirmative blink.

His thumb delves into your mouth, up to the first knuckle. You wrap your lips around. Suck with the gentlest of pressure.

His mouth lifts into a slight smile. “Good girl,” he whispers.

And, fuck if that doesn’t open your floodgates. You’re slick and ready.

Dean’s other hand runs along the waistband of your yoga pants. “You been thinking about my hands all over you…” His thumb glides under the fabric of your panties. “Taking you apart, piece by piece.” He delves farther down, until he taps the top of your mound. His jaw clenches at your gasp of anticipation. His thumb hooks under your tongue against the floor of your mouth to express just how in command he is right now. “You gonna do what I say, Your Worship?”

You nod. You’ll don a pair of cinnamon buns if he tells you to right now.

He smirks, cocky and full of confidence. “The better I make you feel down here...” He works his thumb between your folds and presses against your clit. You squirm in his lap. “The better you suck with that beautiful mouth, yeah?”

You nod again. He releases the pressure in your mouth, circles your bundle of nerves. He slips and slides while his fingers splay over your stomach to anchor in place. You latch onto his thumb again and suck on it like a straw

“Pretty sure this isn’t as wet as you’re gonna get,” he comments like a fucking weatherman. After only a few seconds, he sighs and shakes his head. “Too many fucking clothes.”

You’ve only sparred with Dean a handful of times. Every time, he’s bested you with graceful movements and quick action. He disengages from you for what must have only been seconds, spinning you around in his grasp and pinning your back to the mattress. He’s whipping off your t-shirt, pants, and underwear. Leaving you in only your bra.

He leers over you, hands running up the underside of your thighs. He kneels onto the bed, all of his clothes still on, to wedge against your ass. All of you is on proper display for him. And he takes it all in.

“Right, Gorgeous. Where were we?” One hand rides its way up your chest back to your mouth. You accept his index finger between your lips this time. His other hand resumes playing with your clit. “Hm. Much better.” 

A gasp escapes from your mouth. Your tongue ejects his finger so you can point out, “Who’s the one with too many fucking clothes on now?”

“All good things come to those who wait, darlin’.” He settles further, criss crossing over top of your flesh. His legs sandwich your right thigh while he strums your pussy. The hope of what else is to come pokes into your side through his sweatpants. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, slipping his finger into your mouth again. The pull of his left hand guides you to lean your head toward the right. He settles his beefy forearm onto the mattress above your shoulder.

His chest pins you down in a kinky wrestling move. Teeth snag your ear lobe. He applies pressure to the swollen flesh over a ridge of bone, then uses a flicking motion that makes your thigh twitch in delight.

You're sloppy with your technique of licks and sucks as he feeds you another digit. But, really, how is any gal supposed to mind their manners with Dean Winchester fingering her? You groan, helpless, as he explores your folds, finds your entrance with two tips. “I know you got a thing for my hands,” his hot breath tunnels into your ear canal, “but, if you want, I can fill you up real good with something else.”

You can’t reply with any actual words, only moans of agreement. The erection pressing into your hip bone sure does feel substantial. If it’s anything like his fingers - two fingers are currently surfing around your tongue and rubbing against your palate - he’ll have no problem filling you up.

To ground yourself in the reality of the situation, you snatch at the hem of his shirt and tug. Your pelvis tilts up at the slow insertion of one of his other fingers down below. “Damn,” he pants into your ear. “How long’s it been since someone took care of you, all nice and proper? So- so tight and wet.” He hums. “And warm.” A languid slide out with one finger, only to be accompanied with another when he pushes back inside. “Feel so good. Gonna feel even better around my cock after I make you come… Princess.”

You will not ever admit to the fact that you squealed with Dean’s fingers in your mouth. That you convulsed after only seconds of him playing with your clit and stretching open your hole.

Fireworks continue to skyrocket in your head. Your body tipped into the oversensitive zone. You’re aware of every bit of him plastered against you. He’s made you slick with arousal and sweat. Layers of fabric cling to skin. You should be suffocating with him laying atop you, but he feels like a weighted blanket. Warm, secure. Dean’s fingers don’t retract from your mouth or pussy. They are frozen in place. Your teeth nibble one set. Your muscles spasm around the other. 

He hasn’t moved. Hot breath huffs hard into the crook of your neck with an occasional sharp inhale and hold. You close your eyes. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could fall asleep like this.

“Was that… too much?” He deep-throat whispers in your ear now. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

“N-mph-,” you chortle around his fingers.

“Shit, sorry.” He pulls his hand away from your mouth, the other slowly out of your hot core. Matching sighs release from you both.

“No,” you heave, and his chest rises up and off. “It was… awesome.”

He’s in your face now, all green eyes and pink lips, a veil of freckles along the bridge of his nose and forehead. “Yeah?”

You squint, trying to focus on all the glorious aspects. He’s studying you. You get the feeling he’s really not sure. “Why is the ladies man doubting himself all of sudden?” you tease, rocking to shuffle him out of the daze.

A shrug. “It’s you. I don’t always read you right.”

You lean your head back into his memory foam in an attempt to make full eye contact. “I don’t know how many ways you can misread giving me a mindblowing orgasm.”

He blinks, cautious. “Is what I did going to… you know… change things between us?”

“Oh.” You stop, dart your gaze to the ceiling past his shoulder for dramatic effect. “Oh, absolutely. I mean,” you pause, “how could it not?” You shake your head and feel his entire body go rigid. “It’s gonna be so awkward and uncomfortable around here.” 

When you dare to look at him, there’s a hint of something you don’t see often on Dean’s face. You think it might be fear.

You can’t bear it any longer. “I mean, I can already imagine the disgusted look on Sam’s face when we start making out right in front of him.”

Within seconds, the expression turns to one of relief and amusement, accompanied by the charming cockiness that’s gonna turn you to goo at the most inopportune moments from here on out. “Well, we don’t have to tell him right away. It might be fun to, you know, sneak around right under his nose.” He relaxes, sinks into you again. “I could have you all sorts of ways, in all sorts of places, doing our best not to get caught.”

You smile. “Don’t want to tell your brother you’ve stolen my heart with that five-finger discount of yours?”

He chuckles, rolls his eyes, then cups the heat of your folds again. “I mean, I sucked at Biology, but pretty sure this ain’t your heart, darlin’.”

“You’re wrong, you know?”

He blinks, all sass and spectacle, “This IS your heart?” He squeezes.

You peck his lips, roll your eyes, and curl arms around his waist. “No. Solo’s got nothing on you. YOU are the best scoundrel.”

A breathtaking kiss makes you all lightheaded. When he finally pulls away and allows you to exhale, he lifts one side of his mouth into a confident grin. “I know.”

THE END

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Thirteen x  Levi  relationship hcs please 🥺

Heyy! To be blunt I've never imagined those two together though in my mind they make for a cute couple I guess?

It was my first time writing hcs so I hope you enjoy it.

Post contains: Fluff, Sexual mentions (slight NSFW)

Thirteen x Leviathan

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

Thirteen x Levi relationship hcs

•I feel like this would be such a grumpy x sunshine relationship since Levi is gloomy and self conscious most of the time while Thirteen is a wildcat and does everything her way.

•Levi and thirteen met under unusual circumstances:

Leviathan was coming out of an anime store with his newest possession. – the weapon from the main character in the new anime he's been obsessed over. A raygun.

Thirteen was passing by and saw the raygun the third-born was holding and her eyes widened. That's the exact something she needed for her newest gadget. She rushed up to the demon who seemed too focused on the raygun and poked him in the shoulder.

-Where'd you get that?! It's exactly what I need! –She said and snatched the raygun away from him.

-Hey that's mine! It's the raygun from "A world of waste and demons with hope, trying to find a peaceful life in a dimension where they can only trust each other against all creatures-" – Levi barely starts when Thirteen cuts through.

-Ughh yeah I don't know it but I'll take that if you don't mind. –Thirteen didn't really care about Levi's anime all she could think about was the raygun and how she would put it to a good use. Leviathan tried to fight her off but she left before he could even ask her to give it back. He has to get a new one.

•Thirteen found out about Levi's persona through Solomon. While Levi probably heard from either Mammon or Asmo:

-This one is Leviathan. –Solomon shows a picture of the seven brothers to Thirteen and points at the third-born.

-Oh so he is one of the seven idiots? Ew. –Thirteen utters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-That's Thirteen! –Asmodeus exclaims. While showing a picture of the reaper to the gloomy otaku.

-Thirteen like the number? –Levi asks confused.

-I guess... –Asmo mutters. –At least she is pretty, isn't she?

-I guess... –the purple haired demon murmurs.

•They first get in contact when Levi gets a dare to text her. (Asmo gave him her Devilgram.) She didn't care at first. Though they continue texting each other and get kinda close

•Thirteen initiates the first date.

*In Devilgram*

-"Leviathaaaannnn wanna hang out? I wanna get to know you."

-"Ok lol"

•Levi is SHY. Really shy. He's never been on a date with a girl before! As for Thirteen she is curious. Turns out the date ends well and Thirteen is satisfied while Levi is excited since Thirteen mentioned that she is a fan of TSL.

•First kiss? It's probably after a few dates and a few finished games before Levi even considers her something closer than a gaming buddy:

Leviathan had asked Thirteen to accompany him to an anime concert she showed interest towards. Both were excited! They met up at RAD and Levi brought merch for both of them. He is wearing his and when Thirteen shows up he offers her the T-shirt.

-Thirteen! Here. This is the official merch of the group whose concert we are going to.

-Ermm I don't like it. Don't feel like wearing it. –Thriteen says and looks away confidently.

-OK? I guess you look good the way you are. –The purple haired demon mutters. He feels anxious and awkward. He doesn't remember the last time he gave a compliment to a real person rather than an anime one.

-Thanks! Levi! –Thirteen chuckles mischievously and leans down to kiss the demon's cheek. She had liked him for a while. The reaper never imagined to fall for one of the seven demon brothers but there she was. It was like the floor was fading beneath her feet. She couldn't stop herself from lusting after the third-born.

Levi absolutely freaks out. To be kissed on the cheek by a girl? HIM? What kind of dream is this? To be kissed by a girl he happens to like and probably has a crush on. Luck is on the third-born's side. His cheeks heat up and Thirteen chuckles.

-Did you like that? –She questions and looks hopefully at the demon.

-I-... Uhmm... I.. I .. d... D.. y-y-yes.. –Levi barely stammers out.

After the concert both look happy and excited. Levi is mumbling something about one of the songs being part of his current favourite anime when Thirteen can't resist the urge anymore. She grabs the sides of Leviathan's head and kisses him on the lips. The third-born's eyes widen in shock and doesn't return the kiss.

Thirteen looks at Levi with a loving gaze after the soft kiss. She caresses his cheek and smiles while Leviathan's whole face is red.

•When Levi gets home after the first kiss he can't stop thinking about it. He asks Asmo for advice. The fifth-born feels flattered and also proud of his big brother.

Thirteen just giggles the whole time when she gets back at the reaper's cave. Kicks her feet and daydreams about being with the otaku boy.

•Asmo made Levi buy her flowers and told him a few great pick-up lines. The next time both of them hang out Levi uses a few of the pick-up lines on Thirteen even though it feels extremely awkward for him. She giggles at each one though she can't deny the faint colour in her cheeks.

•Levi takes the first step and asks her to be his girlfriend to which she immediately accepts. They were out in a cat café:

-Hey Thirteen.. I've been thinking... Uhm.. –He gulps– do you imagine us as a.. c-c-couple? –The purple-haired demon asks and tilts his head in embarrassment. The color of his cheeks is undeniably deep.

-Of course, Levi! Do you wanna be together now or? I'm not entirely sure how things work.

-Yeah...

•Both keep it a secret for a while until Levi feels comfortable to tell his brothers. Meanwhile their relationship is soft and cute. They exchange a few soft kisses and hugs. As well as a few flirty comments on Thirteen's side.

•When Levi finally tells his brothers all six are proud of him. Levi is practically glowing from happiness. The six of them even threw a little welcome party for the newly couple. (Lucifer was sceptical for inviting a reaper at The House of Lamentation since he doesn't trust her as much but he trusts Leviathan with her.) Everything goes smoothly and Thirteen decides to stay over for the night. That was their first time. Thirteen is extremely happy that she is Levi's first:

-Wait... You haven't done this before? –Thirteen asks in confusion.

-I uh.. it's my first time... Yes... –The third-born stutters on his words.

-I'll teach you then! –Thirteen gently tugs down at Leviathan's sweatpants and pulls them down to his ankles. His boxers follow and her eyes widen to the sight.

-Wait.... You have two?! –The reaper exclaims. Levi looks away in embarrassment.

•Overall they are a cute couple. Spending a lot of time together, cuddling, making out. Making love and all of that. Levi buys her flowers two to three times which she gladly accepted but did proceed to tell him which flowers are her favourites so next time he buys those for her.

•They give each other cute nicknames. Though Levi doesn't immediately feel comfortable calling her something other than her name. She she often uses just "Levi" or: tiger, baby, playboy, gamer boy.

And probably at rare times or more intimate ones - my naughty demon.

Levi calls her mostly -bae or babe and sometimes - Thirteen-chan (She adores this one)

•In bed I feel like Thirteen would dominate Levi more often than he does. They use toys, a lot of them but do sometimes engage in vanilla sex.

•Both of them buy couples bracelets and she always clicks hers when she misses him. The bracelet practically doesn't stop vibrating on his hand though he is glad that his girlfriend misses him as much. (He also clicks it a few times)

•They match clothes at some of their dates.

•Levi gets more comfortable around her and stops stuttering at some point in their relationship.

-Hey, bae. Kiss me. –Leviathan says while playing his game and Thirteen looks at him in confusion. It was the first time he said the word kiss without stuttering. She leans down and captures his lips with hers in a short put passionate kiss.

-You seem confident to ask, tiger. –The reaper chuckles.

-You make me more confident, Thirteen-chan.

•They attend EVERY concert that Levi wants to go to. Even if Thirteen isn't particularly interested. She just enjoys spending time with him.

•They visits the Devil's coats every time it's in town. Levi buys both of them Celestial Realm popcorn and they fall in love even more with each other:

-Leviii... I love youuu... –Thirteen clings to Leviathan's hand.

-I love you too, bae. –Levi responds and smiles down at his girlfriend.

•Sometimes they walk down the street with Levi's hand around her waist.

•Thirteen invites Levi over at the reaper's cave but he is scared so she guides him every step of the way. And at the end the third-born actually enjoys being at the reaper's cave. (Sometimes he doesn't even go home and stays over with Thirteen from which he earns a scolding from the eldest, since he didn't mention not coming home for the night.)

•Levi and Thirteen sometimes share ear pods to listen to music together.

•Levi often helps Thirteen with constructing her gadgets.

•Thirteen leaves lipstick kisses all over Levi's body whenever she feels like putting a claim on him. (Levi did snap a few pics of his jaw and neck, covered in kisses to post on Devilgram)

•Levi has some of her stuff in his room. He often looks over at them and smiles. Like her hairbrush that sits on his desk.

•They have matching couple's wallpapers on their D.D.Ds

•Sometimes they roleplay or re-act some of Levi's favourite anime scenes.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

rhett abbott x oc | another au

Summary: "we always used to have sleepovers as children, why would it be weird now?" aka what if they were childhood best friends to lovers? huh? what then? (wc: 3393)

Requested: YES by @saltynametag

Warnings: childhood best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, a sex joke involving doggy bedsheets, and SUPER suggestive at the end there + a cliffhanger on where that situation goes

✎……uh...if ya want me to finish out what happens at the end there just lmk...

✎……MASTERLIST

It is a truth universally acknowledged that children of ranchers stuck together. Even if one of those ranchers specialized in cattle and the other in horses. 

Tessa Abernathy and Rhett Abbott were no exception to this truth. They met when they were just four years old, their fathers having brought them along to the local tractor supply to pick up a few things for their respective ranches. Both Royal Abbott and Nathan Abernathy set their kids down for only a second to look at something. But then the little tots were gone. Nowhere to be seen in the large store. They were only missing for about five minutes — neither of their fathers were even all that worried. Royal and Nathan wandered up on the two of them standing side by side on an overturned bird feeder box, looking at the baby ducks under the heated lamp.

The two of them were inseparable after that. Pre-school and kindergarten, elementary to middle school — their friendship even lasted throughout high school, when some childhood friendships were most tested. Kept together through their love of the rodeo and each other. Weekends spent at one or the other’s houses, when they weren’t traveling with the rodeo team. Pictures up in their bedrooms of shared bathtubs when they were still little, pillow forts with Nintendo 64 controllers in hand, vacations one or the other tagged along on, and dances where neither of them could think of someone else to go with. Neither of them could imagine a world where the other wasn’t in their life. It seemed impossible, when they had spent nearly their entire lives knowing and caring for and teasing one another.

Everyone expected, their parents included, that they would get together eventually. That they would finally realize that they loved each other as more than friends, bite the bullet, and start dating. But it never happened. High school came and went and the subject was never broached or even brought up once — even amongst their other friends.

Even though they both, at the time, secretly harbored crushes on the other. Little fleeting things they hoped would just go away with time. Because they were best friends. Had known each other forever. They couldn’t possibly be a couple. They would drive each other mad. Or at worst, it would ruin their friendship forever. And neither of them wanted to take that risk. So the crushes went away with time, and friends they remained.

The children of ranchers stuck together like glue.

Rhett had just finished helping Tessa move into her new place. A little cottage on her parents’ property that was entirely hers to do with whatever she wanted. Her own place after living at home for twenty-three years. She didn’t think it was that special. She was still living on her parents’ land and even renting from her parents, but Rhett thought she was lucky. She was out of the house, with her own space but still some responsibility. He would kill just to have one of the lofts in a barn to himself. But he was happy for her, even if he was a little jealous.

It was late by the time he pulled out of her driveway, the sun dipped low below the horizon and the moon hanging high in the sky. If they were younger, he would have just stayed the night. Not caring or even thinking about the implications of it. But now he was older. Now, he understood that Tessa was a woman, in every sense of the word. With soft curves and pink lips and zero inhibitions about being as close to him as possible. Now, he knew what all that could mean — what it meant to stay the night with a woman like that. 

And he knew Tessa didn’t want that from him. Never has, and never would.

Even if that twisted up something inside him he refused to understand.

But, he was about halfway home when his phone started to ring with a call from her. A picture of her sitting on top of her horse grinning ear to ear back at him greeting him as he picked his phone up from the cupholder.

“Hey, sunshine, I forget somethin’?” he questioned, small smile on his face as he answered her call.

“Um, no…” Tessa answered, voice sounding small and a little afraid.

Rhett sat up straighter as he drove, prepared to pull over or turn around at any second. “Wha’s wrong?”

“S’nothing,” she replied instantly, but when he didn’t say anything back she sighed and went on. “I jus’ feel weird bein’ here alone, s’all.”

His shoulders relaxed, his grip on the wheel loosened. He should have known she would react like this to her first night alone. Tessa might have been on the quieter side, but she was a creature of the den. She liked when there were people around, noise and comfort. Knowing that she wasn’t alone. But there she was, all alone in a little two bedroom cottage for the first time in her life.

“Y’r parents’re righ’down the road,” he said lightly, even as he pulled over into the shoulder and made sure no one was coming up or down the dark road.

He knew what she was going to ask before she even had to say it. 

“I know, but —” There was a pause as she sighed, Rhett could practically see her in his mind’s eye standing there with the phone pressed to her ear, bottom lip caught strong between her teeth. “Can you stay the night? Jus’this first night. Please?”

“M’already turned around. Be there in ten,” he said, pulling back out onto the road. “I better get extra pay f’r this.”

Her laugh, soft and gentle through the phone, was like music to him. “How ‘bout I have hot chocolate ready when ya get here?”

“Yeah, that’ll work. N’breakfast in the mornin’?”

“Yes, n’breakfast in the mornin’, ya bottomless pit,” she laughed again.

“Wait, you even have eggs?”

“Yeah.” He heard the fridge open in the background. “Ma insisted we stock up the fridge n’cabinets before we moved any’a my stuff in.”

They stayed on the phone and talked until Rhett pulled back into her driveway. He didn’t need to ask to know that she wanted him to stay on the line until he got there. He just knew.

He didn’t even knock before he came inside. Just pushed open the door and took off his shoes, greeted by the smells of hot chocolate and Tessa humming under her breath as she stirred the pot it was in. Always from scratch, never from a packet with her. She smiled over her shoulder at him as he approached, pushing his hair back from his face with a returning grin.

It felt…Domestic in some way. Her standing in the kitchen, him coming home to her, the house all to themselves. Rhett wasn’t the type to imagine things often, save for a ride he was minutes from undertaking. But he could just picture coming up behind her and wrapping her up in his arms. Pressing kisses into her neck just to make her laugh. Making her sway to the song that wasn’t playing but they both heard. Coming home to her every day for the rest of his life.  It felt so real, so effortless for him to do. For them to do. As he approached, he nearly did just what he imagined. His arms instinctively reached for her. It swelled up something inside him that, again, he refused to understand. He refused to acknowledge as he got down the mugs he put away only hours before instead of living out his fantasy.

“Thank you, f’r comin’,” Tessa said quietly as she ladeled out the steaming beverage into each of their mugs.

Rhett shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Y’called.”

They drank their hot chocolate in relative silence. She didn’t have all her furniture yet, so they had to squeeze together on an oversized armchair and watch some crime show on her laptop. She leaned her head on his chest, their legs tangled together as they somehow managed to sit comfortably, and again there was that feeling. That fantasy bubbling up in Rhett’s mind. His heart. His gut. How he could so easily put his arm around her and press his lips to her head. How some part of him wanted to end every day just like this. With her by his side. How he could just so, so easily pull her into his lap and kiss her like he’s always wanted. 

Like he’s always wanted? Rhett fidgeted with his empty mug, completely lost on the plot of the show in front of him. Has he always wanted to kiss her? Love her as more than a friend?

Has he been in love with her his entire life and has only just now realized it?

A kind of heat he wasn’t familiar with flooded his chest as the idea dawned on him. As the answer hit him with the force of a raging bull. Because of course he’s spent his entire life loving her. What else was he supposed to do? It’s almost what he was made for. To love Tessa Abernathy. The girl who ran away to look at ducklings with him. The girl who encouraged him to follow his dreams of becoming a bull rider in the first place. The girl who took care of him when he broke his ankle and his arm at the same time. The girl who forced him to go to prom. The girl who had spent her whole life loving him, too.

When the episode was finished and both of their mugs were emptied, Tessa disappeared to wash them out and put them in the sink. Then she came back to where he was still leaned back and spread legged in the chair with a sleepy smile.

“Y’ready f’r bed?” she asked.

He blinked up at her for a second. Could nearly picture her reaching out a hand, ready to drag him to their shared room where they could hide under the blankets from the world. But she wasn’t doing that. She was just looking at him with that tired smile and her hands messing with the hem of her shirt.

“Yeah,” he finally sighed as he pulled himself from the armchair. “Got any clothes f’r me?”

“You sleep in y’r boxers,” she pointed out, even as she led him back to her room, the bigger one on the right side of the hall.

She only had a full bed and a box spring for now. Little by little she would buy all the furniture she needed for the place, make it her own. Earlier in the day, Rhett thought her excitement about her own place and having her own furniture was endearing. Maybe even cute. But now he couldn’t stop thinking about going with her to test out bed frames and couches, moving it all in his truck and getting thanked for a job well done with a few kisses. Rhett shook his head as he followed her into the sparse room, pushing a hand through his hair again. 

He needed to get his head on straight. Tessa was just a friend. His best friend. Always had. Always would be. 

And there was that twisting in his chest again. Sharp and brutal as a knife.

How could he spend his whole life loving her and be just her friend?

“S’cold,” he explained simply, “N’it’ll be even colder out on that armchair.” 

She looked over at him with a furrowed brow as she opened one of her boxes of clothes. “M’not makin’ you sleep on that thing.”

“Where’m I sleepin’ then? The floor?”

“In here — on the bed — with me,” she said it simply, like it didn’t crush something in his chest.

“Tess…” He tried to think of what to say, how to excuse himself from having to share a bed with her when it was all he wanted to do.

“Oh, com’on. We used t’do it all the time as kids,” she argued, not finding what she was looking for in the first box and opening another.

“Yeah, cause we were kids.”

“S’not like this’s any different.”

Her words felt final, like there was nothing more he could say that would make her change her mind. And Rhett didn’t know if he wanted to make her change her mind. So instead, he stood there and stared at the bed they would soon be sharing. Just like when they were kids. No big deal.

After a minute of digging through a few boxes, Tessa presented him with an old pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt from the high school rodeo team. Also his. He narrowed his eyes at her as he took the proffered clothes she had clearly stolen at one point or another. But she just rolled her eyes — he couldn’t tell if the blush on her cheeks was him imagining things again or not.

Again, they got ready for bed in silence. Moving around each other like they had been doing it for years. Tessa offered the spare toothbrush she had for when she needed to change out her own. But all the while, something was building and twisting and knotting itself in Rhett’s gut. Anticipation? Worry? Guilt? Desire? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

He just wanted to get through what was bound to be a sleepless night in the same bed as his best friend. Just so she didn’t feel alone. Just so she felt comfortable and safe. God, he would do anything to make her feel that way. Even if it left him uncomfortable and wanting.

Even if it made their little world crumble down around them.

“Y’re in Montana nex’week right? Big rodeo up there?” she questioned as she pulled back the covers, an extra on her side so she wouldn’t get cold.

“Yeah,” Rhett replied, pushing back his hair again. “Migh’even’ave a chance t’win big.”

“Maybe I could…Go with ya r’somethin’,” she spoke bashfully, sitting down by her pillow.

He gave her a look. “Thought y’had that big girl job now — they just gonna let ya have a week off?”

“S’all remote work. Imputin’ numbers and balancin’ books — borin’ but it pays. I could, I don’know, work at the hotel durin’ the day when I have to n’then be there at the rodeo at night.” 

“Could be fun,” he said with a shrug and a smile. “Like the good ole days.”

“C’n even sneak down t’the pool past closin’, if ya really wanna relive those days,” she chuckled lightly, picking at the sheets.

“If’s the good ole days we’re both drunk on straight vodka, which, honestly…” Rhett groaned as he laid down on his side of the bed. “The memory of makes me wanna hurl.” 

“Yeah, might be too old f’r that bit now.” 

They both laughed at that. It was true, they were getting older. Tessa got a degree and was working a full time job now. They still probably drank and partied too much, but they hardly ever stayed out past midnight anymore. Pretty soon they would be sipping wine or IPAs at dinner and not staying out past nine. The idea, despite Rhett not regretting a single thing about how he lived his life save for still living at home, sounded nice to him. If he was sipping wine and IPAs at dinner with her. If he was calling it a night and curling up on the couch to watch TV with her.

He wanted to do anything and everything with her.

But then he noticed her sheets.

“Hol’on, y’still have these sheets?” he asked incredulously as he pulled part of the fitted sheet up to a point, looking up at her with a smile and a raised brow.

“Back off, I still like these,” she replied, cheeks pink as she shoved at his shoulder.

They were green and fleece, which were both fine, especially now that it was getting colder out. Rhett’s only complaint, and really his only tease, was that they were covered in little cartoon dogs. And he remembered them being on her bed when she was twelve. That was over a decade ago and she still had them on her bed. Rhett grinned at her again as he worked on straightening out the wrinkle he had made.

“I don’know how I feel abou’sleepin’ on ten year ol’ doggy sheets,” he prodded.

“Jus’do it doggy style then,” she replied.

Then went red in the face, shifting her blue eyes over at him with her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew what she said. They both knew what she meant and also what it sounded like. And usually, Rhett would have just gone on teasing her. Disipated the tension by pointing out what she just said and bringing it up for the next several days. But he just couldn’t. Not when it felt like there something lodged in his throat and he was just now noticing her warm thigh pressed up against his own.

Not when his imagination, suddenly so active, was showing him images of Tessa, his best friend he’s known since he was four, on her hands and knees for him. Her skin bare and sweating, a forming bite mark on her ass, her back arched, and whining high in her throat for him to come closer. Just to come closer. Looking back over her shoulder at him, so much like she did in the kitchen, only now her eyes were glazed over and she was begging him to be inside her. Filling her. Loving her. 

Rhett coughed awkwardly as he pulled the covers up over his lap. 

“Well, good night,” Tessa offered quickly, voice high-pitched and her cheeks still bright red as she turned off the cheap lamp on the floor beside the bed.

Then she flopped down onto the bed beside him, blankets yanked up to her shoulders as she curled up on her side. Facing away from him. And he tried his best to just lay back on his pillow and go to sleep. He really did. But how could he when his mind wouldn’t stop and the object of all his desires was laying right next to him? When he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her and kissing her and kissing her and kissing her? When he could feel the heat coming off of her skin and she was so close he could nearly touch her? There was no way he was making it through this sleepless night now. Not when all of it, his desire and his love and his years of longing, were bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin. Like a pot about to boil over on the stove.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was rolled over onto his side and tugging at her arm. She rolled over to face him without any fight, just a sigh like she knew this was coming. 

“Look, I get it what I said was dumb —”

“Sunshine, I — I can’t do this,” he muttered out as he looked at her face in the blue light of darkness.

She just looked at him confused. “Do what?”

He didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know how to articulate anything that was on his mind or on his heart. His mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to find the words that would speak it all into existence. But it just wouldn’t come. He couldn’t force it, even if he tried. It was all blank save for the pulsing need between his legs. His need for her. That really had been there all along. Even when he didn’t know it. 

So instead, he reached out for her and blindly took her hand beneath the covers. The furrow between her brows seemed to deepen as he dragged her hand across the small distance between them. But her mouth popped open and her chest heaved when he pressed the palm of her hand against the bulge in his sweats.

“R-Rhett…” she whispered, voice wavering and unreadable.

“F-Fuck, please, sunshine,” he breathed back, pushing further into her hand, further into her space. “I-I can’t anymore, please. Need you. Need you.”

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

[soap143]

I had these two similar requests, so I decided to combine them into one. Whoever saw the other post… No you didn’t. Enjoy!

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••



3 “aww, you’re blushing”

6 “ are you…? oh my god. you are.”

69 “i don’t think i’ve ever seen your face so red.”

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Revenge

Lee!Han, Minho

Ler!Han, Minho

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

“We have plenty of pictures on your phone! And plus, digital images are not fun.” Minsung were arguing over something dumb again. What could it be this time…

Han kept on insisting on taking more pictures together, because there is no such thing as too many. Minho, on the other hand, disagreed.

Jisung really wanted to go out that day. Like a mini date. They could grab some food, discover some new photo spots and just spend quality time together. But the main thing on his mind was to buy a camera. One that prints pictures right after taking them, to be specific.

Minho, obviously, wasn’t a big fan of the idea. He just wanted to completely waste his free day by watching TV and eating snacks all day long.

“Come onnn, hyung~ This is our only chance to go out, and you just wanna throw it away just like that?” the quokka bribed the older “I already said no. There is absolutely nothing that would make me change my mind.”

“Please, please, please~ I’ll literally do anything!” the leader of danceracha definetly underestimated his weakness againts whiny Jisung “No.” Minho really tried denying the offer. Even in his mind. But he was already convinced. Han only had to pull his arm up and down and complain childlishly to change the cat lover’s principles.

“So first we’re gonna go to the market and get some beutiful matching bracelets. Then I’m thinking about taking you to this super cute anime-japanese store, where we can buy delicious snacks and lastly we can eat at that fancy restaurant that we saw last week!”

“Hm… Sound like a lot of work…” Lee Know complained “More like a lot of fun! This is gonna be the best date ever!” the squirrel happily smiled, showing his toothy smile.

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

“Minho hyung, come look at this!” Han exitedly called the older over “What is it?” “Just look at these necklaces! This one has a little cat, see? This one is going to be yours! And look at this cute quokka! I’ve never seen one on a piece of jewelry…”

Minho, once again, tiredly hummed, murmuring something under his breath. He just wanted to go home…

After paying for their new pendants, Minsung made their way to the anime shop. Jisung was very much looking forward to visiting this place. He had always wanted to go there, but always felt too nervous to go alone.

The whiny cat followed his owner for a while. The all-rounder kept on stopping and checking out different figurines, flipping thru mangas and begging the older to buy him some cute stickers and keychains.

Finally, after what felt like years of wandering around the massive building, the couple reched the exit. Minho was so exited to go buy some snacks and finish off their hang out with some delicious dinner. But one last thing caught the curious boy’s eye.

“Look, hyung. A photo booth! And it’s anime themed. Is this heaven?” the rapper exitedly walked towards the mentioned place “Wait, we’re not actually stopping here, are we?” Lee Know stood there with his mouth wide open.

“Why not? There are no people around. And it’s also an opportunity to get some more pictures together!” Jisung gripped the other boy’s arm and dragged him towards the dreaded place.

“Come on, you go first!” the squirrel like boy pushed his hyung into the tight space. When both them both entered the photo booth, Lee Know noticed how little space there was. He felt like a sardine with how close Han was. They were not just touching shoulders. They were basically sitting on eachother. Jisung was sitting on him to be specific.

“Now smile, hyung!” the maknae of 3racha encouraged the older as he inserted a coin into the machine. A loud clicking noise was heard and the lights set up inside shone bright into the boys eyes. Suddenly, a long piece of paper slid out right into Jisung’s hands.

“Look, it’s us!” the younger shoved the pictures into Minho’s face “Yah, I see them. Can we go now?” Han was about to agree, but then he looked closer into his souvenir.

“Wait… Did you not smile?” the spark in the boy’s eyes dissapeared. Minho almost felt bad “Well, you forced me to come with you, so why should I smile if I’m not happy?” “You little- I’ll make you smile!”

“YAHAHAHAHA DOHOHON’T!” the mischevious bunny was no longer worried about making his friend sad. He was now busy fighting Jisung’s long, tickly fingers off his ticklish sides.

“Aww, you’re blushing!” the quokka teased, only pressing his fingers deeper in “NOHOHOHO SUHUHUHNGIE PLEHEHEASE!” the worst part was that Minho was completely immobile. The tickler’s body weight combined with the tight space made it imposible to move any more than he was able to at the moment. Which wasn’t much.

“FUHUHUHUCK PLEHEHEASE NOHOHO!” Once the rapper reached his armpits, he knew it was over. Tears had started running down his cheeks by now. Lee Know definetly underestimated his sensitivity.

Ji on the other hand was very much enjoying himself. Not only did he get to have the most amazing day, but he also got to wreck the shit out of his hyung.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face so red.” the dancer’s toothy smile seemed to be permanently stuck on his beet-red face. But once the ler reached his preciou’s lee’s deathly ticklish thighs, Minho could tell that he was near his limit.

“H-HAHAHAHAN MEHEHEHEECY PLEHEHEHEASE…!” the poor boy was struggling to breathe. But he’d be dead wrong if he denied liking this.

Jisung wanted to check one last thing before finishing off with the older by lighly stroking his neck “are you…? oh my god. you are.” his theory was proven right when his victim elicited some of the sweetest giggles and scrunched up the sensitive body part.

“How many more places are you ticklish on!” Before Lee Know could push the younger off, Han had already dug his fingers into the older’s neck and collarbone area.

“Smilee, hyung~” the all-rounder threw yet another coin into the machine while scratching the cat mom’s neck. This time, he would most definetly be smiling.

After a few more seconds and some posing, the final and most perfect pictures came out “We look so cute! Look, Minho hyung. See, you’re smiling this time~” Han teased.

“Yah! Don’t think you can get away with this!” the bunny used both hands to poke Hannie, succesfully forcing him out of the photo booth.

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Minsung had filled their stomachs up and were sitting comfortably on the couch. Lee Know decided to visit the 3racha and Hyunjin dorm to watch a movie with Han.

They had already chosen the perfect movie to watch. About 30 minutes had passed and both of them were pretty invested. Especially Jisung. Which is exactly what Minho wanted.

“Are you enjoying this movie?” the cat man asked “Shut up, please” oh he was so going to make him regret that. The dancer listened to the younger. He seemed to really like the film, so the second oldest felt obligated to be nice for at least a little while. That was until he got bored.

“Remember what happened at the photo booth today?” this sentence made Han’s face redden up as he shyly nodded “Y-Yeah, of course I do…” Minho smiled hearing his bandmate’s shaky voice.

“You know, I might just want some revenge…” of course, the quokka knew this would happen. He has actually been anticipating it all day long “Um… I think that you might not need that.”

Jisung crossed his arms against his chest, trying to hide how flustered he was, the dark room making it pretty easy. To his disadvantage, the bunny knew him far too well “No need to pretend that you don’t want this, Sungie~” Lee Know teased, sliding closer to his future victim.

“I’m actually not t-ticklish” Han scoffed, turning his head cockily “Oh? Since when? Last time I checked you were the most ticklish person I know” Minho’s eyebrows raised upon hearing the statement “Well, you’ve got the wrong person, ‘cause I am not one bit… Y-You know what I mean” the maknae of 3racha evetually got far too shy to even say the dreaded word “Aww, how cute. You can’t even say it~ Let me help you with that.”

Soon enough, the leader of danceracha was wrestling with the other boy “Get ohohof mehehe! I already told you-ugh, I’m nohohot,- Yah! I tohold you to stop!” Both of them were equally as strong, but Han could be managed much easily when he was in a lee mood.

“Ohohok you win…” the shorter admited. I mean, he had to accept the truth, considering that the older had him completely pinned. He was stuck under his hyung, whom was sitting on hips, crushing his thighs with his. Not to mention that both his arms were also in the hands of the scary ler.

“Hmm… Now, where shall we start…? I have an idea! How about you tell me!” Minho had come with the most amazing idea. This was going to make the younger so shy “W-What do you mean…” “Stuttering already? Just tell me where and how you wanna be tickled! Not that complicated.”

“WHAT?! I cahahan’t do that!” “Sorry, but you mistake me for someone who cares. Now do what I told you or… I’m going to do that thing.” Han’s eyes widened in fear. Just a day or two ago, Minho had found Sung’s ultimate death spot. It was on the inside of his thigh, closer to his knee. When the older sat on his hips, with his back facing Jisung’s face, and vibrated his fingers into the dreaded spot, the rapper felt like he could confess his darkest secrets just so the ler would slow down.

“…” The younger simply did not respond. Both things were equally as flustering, he could’t choose “Well, looks like you prefer the second option”

Without a warning, Minho streched his hand behind his back, searching for the lee’s ticklish thigh “Stop squirming so much, I can’t get anything done like this…” Jisung was really testing his patience with all the movements he did just to avoid the scary fingers that creeped closer to his sensitive body part every second.

When the older finally reached his limit, he decided to turn his body to face Han’s lower half “Just say stop if it gets too much.”

Jisung gulped in fear. Soon enough, he felt Minho’s hand searching for the dreaded spot. Once they did, Han could only pray his ticklishess had gone away over night.

“Look, let’s talk about this like smart, elegant gentle-MEHEHEHEHEN” the wicked bunny wasted no time, digging his fingers in mercilessly into the ticklish flesh “We already did, Hannie.” the olders calmness was getting the quokka really badly.

“PLEHEHEHEASE HYUHUHUHUHNG DOHOHOHOHON’T!” Han whined in ticklish agony, thrashing around like a madman “I didn’t hear a stop~”

The younger’s current state looked rather… concerning. His whole face was a nice, deep cherry-red, with a vein popping out of the ticklish boy’s neck(which was equally as red). His upper body was swinging side to side. Han kept on slapping Minho’s back, but the tickler seemed to be nonchalant about it.

As ler continued the action, tears started streaming down Jisung’s neck, signaling that he was near his limit “P-PLEHEHEASE MIHIHIHINHO S-STOHOhohop…-“ As soon as Sungie’s wild cackling could no longer be heard, Lee Know stopped.

“Are you ok? Do you want to continue?” the concern in his voice was real “Y-Yeheah, j-just maybe not there anymohore…” the worry in the cat’s lover’s face quickly melted away and was replaced by mischeviousness “Then we should switch back to the first option…”

“W-What was the first option…” Jisung stuttered “Oh please, I know you remember~ Now tell me, where and how” Lee Know sweetly smiled down at the shorter “Do what?” Han tried to sound clueless “You’re being annoying. Where. And. How. Tell me this very moment or we’re going back to square one”

The rapper closed his eyes, hoping this was all a dream. He was not about to do a tutorial on how to tickle him “Look, we really don’t have to do this…” Minho gently placed his hand back onto the younger’s thigh “OKAY. Okahahay, I will do whatever you want, hyung…”

The bunny’s mouth extended into a wide grin “Oh no, Sungie! It seems to be that I’ve absolutely forgotten what tickling was! And how to do it! Can you show me? Please”

A sudden wave of heat attacked the lee’s face, rushing blood up into it “Um, so. Fuhuhuck I can’t. Hyung, I cannot do this.” Han covered his red face with his hands “Can’t do what? I don’t understand… Can you please answer my questions?!” Minho teased the younger by placing his skillful fingers onto his victim’s sensitive sides.

“Look, you’re doing great already. Juhuhust squeeze now and you will have t-tickled me” Jisung flusteredly instructed after seeing the older’s hand placement “Oh, like this?” the ler obeyed, pushing his fingers deeper into the flesh “Yehehehes, j-juhuhst like t-that”

“Are you sure, Jisung? Or should do it like this, or that, or maybe-“ Lee Know suddenly started poking, squeezing and wiggling at Han’s sides “NOHOHOHO MIHINHO DOHON’T!” said man just smiled “Where else are you… How do you call a person that very sensitive to tickles anyway, Sungie?” “YOU KNOHOHOW THAHAHAT ALREHEHEDY, STOHOHOP TEHEHEASING!”

“Just tell me~!” Minho whined, squeezing Jisung’s sides even faster “YAHAHAHA I-I WIHIHILL! JUHUHUST STOHOHOP!” with that, the taller slowed down “ticklish” the quokka mumbled under his breath “What? What do you call it?” the cat lover teased, inching his face dangerously quickly to his bandmate’s incredibly sensitive ears “Lee. Minho. Don’t get any closer!” Obviously, the ruthless tickler did not listen. Why would he?

“What did you say, Hannie~ What do you call it~” the way that Minho ticklishly blew air into the poor boy’s ears made him giggle like a maniac “Mihihinnie plehehehehehease stohohop i’ll tehehel you, juhuhuhst stohohop~”

Lee Know absolutely adored how Jisung didn’t even try stop him. He just firmly gripped his shoulders, lighly twitching his head.

He did stop, wanting to hear the “unknown” word “T-ticklish. That’s the word.” Han finally pushed the term out “Wow, that’s so interesting! You’re very ticklish, Jisungie, I wonder where else are you ticklish, you ticklish boy~” the quokka rolled his eyes. Minho was milking the hell out of that new word.

“Well, answer me. Where else are you ticklish?” the younger snapped out of his flustering thoughs after hearing his hyung’s request “W-what. Umm… I-I dohon’t know…” “How about… Here!” the ler’s sneaky fingers found their way to his lee’s soft tummy “Ehehehe thahat’s pretty bahahad…” Han snickered.

A sudden wave of confidence washed over the rapper’s mind. He could ask for any kind of tickles right now. No matter how much he denied it, he could’t hide how much he loved raspberries. And now was the perfect time to ask.

“Uhm, Minnie…” Han asked “What is it?” Minho slowed his movements down to hear the boy “I-I want you to g-give me rasp-raspberries… Can you?” Jisung have the best puppy eyes he could “Sure, we can go to the store to get some later!” the maknae of 3racha rolled his eyes at the second eldest’s obliviousness.

“Not those raspberries. The other ones. You know, the ones that you give me… Blowing them on my sides…” the squirrel like boy tried to guide the cat mom back to his skillful mind “I still don’t understand. You’ll have to explain it step by step~” Ji was getting more and more red by the second. He was so frustrated and fed up with the older’s teasing. Could’t he just give him what he wanted?

“Look, hyung, if you don’t stop teasing I swear I’ll lock in a photobooth with Chan-hyung!” Minho’s smile dropped for a second remembering what had happened just last week. Ever since then, he’s become photoboothphobic(i made that up btw).

To clear things up, he got wrecked really badly in there. He had been in an incredible lee mood all day long, and Chan just wanted to give what he wanted. He did satisfy the younger, but Minho didn’t want to be around the older for the next 48 hours.

“Alright, I’ll get to the point.” Lee Know shrugged. That’s when the real torture started. Minho wasn’t called the most skillful tickler of Stray Kids for nothing.

With one hand on Hannie’s hip and another wrapped around his sensitive thigh, the bunny knew what he was doing “OHOHOHO MAHAHAHA GOHOHOHSH PLEHEHEASE” “Nu-uh, you told me to stop teasing, so I won’t”

The most mischevious member combined all of his tickle knowledge into that one session. He definetly knew that Jisung’s knees were a really bad spot. So, he decided to focus on that.

“NOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEASEE!” Han exclaimed, gripping onto the pillow that was on the couch. Lee Know did not stop. He used both hands, one squeezing the top and one concentrated on the top. This made the quokka absolutely mad.

“M-MIHIHIHNHO HYUHUHUHUHNG JUHUHUST LIHIHSTEN FOR A MIHIHINUTE!” for your information, the dancer didn’t even bat an eye, only switching spots. He went from mercilessly attacking the younger’s kneecaps to… His new invention, if you can call it that.

“Sungie, hide your arms behind your back for me. I have an idea” Although the rapper wasn’t so fond of his hyungs future idea, he decided to trust his next moves.

He learnt a very valueable lesson that day - never trust Lee Minho.

As soon as Jisung trapped his hands under his own torso, Lee Know laid on his exhausted body. The next thing he did made Sung regret everything.

“You ready?” Han innocently nodded. Soon enough, he felt the tickler showing all 10 of his fingers in his armpits, wiggling them around into the sensitive flesh “NAHAHAHAHA WHYYY HYUHHUHUHUHG PLEHEHEHEASE MEHEHERCY” the shorter quickly regreted believing the elder.

The cat man shoved his fingers deeper into the crevice with every. Single. Wiggle. His thumb was also massaging the area above the armpit, making the process much more agonizing.

When Jisung thought it couldn’t get any worse, Minho lowered his head and started nibbling at his neck. Not mention that the dancer’s hairs were also taking part in the ticklish process.

“M-MIHIHIHINHO PLEEHEHEHEASE TH-THIS IS TOHOHOHO MUCH!” the mischevious bunny simply shrugged. Since the younger’s laughter hadn’t gone silent and he also hadn’t used the safeword, he wasn’t worried “Just say the safeword, and it’ll be over, honey~” Han blushed at the nickname. Not like you could tell, because basically every single body part that was visible was completely red.

After some more time, the cat charmer got bored. Since Hannie seemed pretty tired and close to his limit, he wanted to satisfy one last request of his.

“How many ribs do you have?” Jisung knew what this meant. His ribs were about to be counted “Twelve! I-I hahave twelve rihibs…” Minho malevolently smirked, slowly getting off the shorter “That is how many raspberries you’re getting”

The brown-eyed boy’s face dropped. Yes, he wanted some raspberries, but that many.

“Oh? Afraid you can’t handle it? Well, I have this big machine. It’s my newest invention.” Lee Know smiled, doing the infamous finger guns “Oh god, what is it this time…” “The i-dont-care-in-ator! It showcases how I don’t care how ticklish you are. That is your problem.”

With that, Minho lowered his “tool”. He vibrated his finger-guns into Jisung’s ribs. If that wasn’t enough, he also decided to add some of the requested rapberries to the mix.

“One…Two…Three” the leader of danceracha painfully and slowly counted, as he blew one ticklish air bubble after another “I-I LOHOHOHOHOVE YOU HYUHUHUHUNG PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOP!”

Just as those words left Sungies mouth, Minho’s i-dont-care-inator lifted up from his body “I love you too, Ji!” Lee Know playfully peppered the younger’s face with kisses. Not directly onto his face, obviously.

“Thahahat was… A lot.” Jisung blushed, covering his face as a very flustered scream left his mouth “Well, did you like it?” Lee Know pondered “…Is it wrong that I did…?” the older jumped onto his favourite lee “That is the cutest thing ever! Please don’t ever change.”

“But please, go take a shower before bed. You’re very sweaty and stinky” the mischevious bunny sheepishly pointed out “Yah! That is your fault!”

“… So can you guys, maybe explain?”

Minsung were too busy having the most insane tickle fight to notice that the rest of the people living in the dorm were watching everything…

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Merry Christmas! Super long one for ya’ll. Took me long enough… At least some of you you got a teaser! Happy holidays, I hope you enjoy this very long fic as a special gift!

[jackszegras]

Nightly Duty- Trevor Zegras

I’m laying in bed as i watch my phone buzz from Jack calling me.

“Yes Rowden?” I sighed as I hear him and a couple other boys giggling in the back.

“Me and the boys are going to stop at Sonic before dropping everyone off, do you want anything?” Jack asks basically yelling in my ear from how loud the boys were being.

“Uhhh….just get me a slushy please. Maybe some onion rings with barbecue sauce.”

“So basically your usual…?” Jack questions. “Yes goober, thank you.” I hang up the phone and put my phone back down while I finish watching Greys Anatomy.

About 20 minutes later I hear Jacks car pull in the driveway. There wasn’t a lot of talking so I’m assuming he didn’t invite the boys to stay the night.

Jack walks upstairs to my room and hands me my food. “Thank you Rowd-“ I get stopped in the middle of my sentence by Trevor running into my room.

“So where’s the life changing skin care products located?” He asks laughing.

“Did you guys seriously only get me food so that I will do your skin care?” I say laughing putting my slushy on my nightstand.

“Perhaps, we thought it could happen since you know. We won the game, we deserve special treatment.” Jack yaps on about.

“Yeah yeah, whatever goobers. Go take showers and I’ll think about it.” I stuff an onion ring in my mouth while Jack wobbles his way out of my room dramatically. Trevor stays behind.

“So, what’s your show about?” Trevor gets up from my desk chair and sits next to me so he can see my tv better.

“Doctors!” I dramatically gasp looking at him.

“No like, actually tell me about it.” He looks at me laughing.

I rant on about Greys until Jack gets out of the shower and then Trevor goes and takes one and while Trevor is gone, Jack tells me about the game.

Trevor walks in the door, “Okay I’m ready to be girly pop.”

I shake my head and walk over to my vanity and get all my skincare products out.

“Trev, you’re first. Let’s go.”

Trevor walks over to my bed and lays down and puts his head in my lap. Jack stands up while looking at his phone.

“Hey, Quinn said mom wants me and him to go to the store to get some food for Dads birthday dinner. I’ll be back later.” Jack walks out of the room without even inviting Trevor to go with him.

I continue to put the headband over Trevors head. “Do you do this every night, before bed?” He questions, looking up at me.

“Most of the time when I don’t fall asleep.” I smile, putting the skin care products on his face.

After 10 minutes of just talking and me doing Trevors skin care, me and him both have a face mask on watching Grey’s Anatomy. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he still seems to be paying attention.

Trevor has always been really clingy to me. Jack thinks it’s because he has a crush on me. I think he just thinks of me as a little sister, even though we are the same age because me and Jack are twins.

Trevor moves over closer to me and without thinking I lay my head on his chest, making sure my face is still up from the face mask being on. His fingers run up and down my arm, drawing hearts with his finger tips.

Without knowing how tired I was, I fell asleep in Trevors arms and woke up to being curled up to my stuff animal shelly the turtle.

I look around at my tv and see my clock sitting on my tv stand and it’s 4am. I don’t see Trevor or Jack in sight. Must have left while I hit snooze for a bit.

I check my phone and I see texts from Trevor and a story mentioned on my private spam account on instagram from Jack.

I open my phone to see, Jack posting a picture of me and Trevor cuddled up. Trevor texted me telling me he really enjoyed our time together and hope to do it again.

Maybe Jack isn’t wrong, maybe I feel the same way.

——————————————————————————

This is so bad, but I’m just starting to get back into all of this writing stuff so hear me out guys. I hope you enjoy and I might do a p2 to this but idk.

Hope you guys all have a good day!!

[cloveroctobers]

SPEND IT / holiday edition?

A/N: haven’t done one of these pieces in awhile and I should at least do one once a year? Maybe. Idk. My ask box is still on hiatus but I felt inspired to write for this time around—also I’m sick with a sinus infection and needed a break from binge-watching shows lol. Also based on the we’re not really strangers couple or relationship edition questions? + stream coco jones 🫶🏽 + NOW EDITED and I hope you enjoy this!

OJ HAYWOOD

Black Friday’s didn’t include much planning unless you dragged OJ out from the ranch to do so. He was always up at the crack of ass anyways…so you didn’t see what the issue was when it came to being in stores to catch a deal. Nonetheless it still irritated him, that man hated being around people too long and obviously preferred hanging with his horses.

However he’d tolerate it for a hour or two just to be with you.

You’ve been together for three years—long distance but been the best of friends since middle school. A lot had changed since you came back from Alaska, learning about this new found species? that took over Agua Dulce had your mind spinning, especially as a biologist.

You missed out on all of it and couldn’t be there during the lost of Otis Sr. due to the snow storms in Alaska, lack of flights and by the time you got back home…you were there for the aftermath. Which meant getting all the details and wondering if the lab you worked for had any further information. Of course they did. Most importantly, you wanted to be there for OJ but he seemed to brush it off, as if it was just another obstacle on the Haywood ranch.

He knew he could be vulnerable with you but it’s not something he wanted to do. It’s not something OJ simply did. You couldn’t recall a time OJ ever got emotional—even when his mother passed back as a child and to learn that it didn’t change as a adult was interesting.

What did change was the amount of eyes OJ had on him now. It was Emerald’s idea to have the four of you participate in this questionnaire that would be filmed, you know like those ones you see on YouTube? Emerald and Angel would be paired while you and OJ would be together. At first everyone assumed it was some interview to get further information on Jean Jacket but Emerald convinced you all that it wasn’t. It would be like gathering around for another round of “Friendsgiving,” she threw yesterday.

Except you would all get a check at the end of the session.

“As if you need more money,” OJ muttered on the drive to the studio.

Em smacked her lips, “why wouldn’t I? No, why wouldn’t all of us? We have to catch the bag especially with the way inflation is treating us. You’re welcome, negro!” She slapped the back of his headrest while OJ just hummed.

You were only participating because you knew OJ wouldn’t do it otherwise. You even took off work to be here and to be honest, it didn’t hurt to have extra money in your pocket for the upcoming holidays. However you got what OJ was hinting at since those pictures and interviews not long after the Jean jacket incident went viral. And Emerald Haywood was all about the business; if she was eating good, so was the rest of her people, period.

Which brought you to this very moment. You could tell OJ was ready to go home after the first round of questions. He didn’t understand why it had to take over a half hour to get the both of you ready and set up. Plus those bright lights were so hot that OJ had to toss his hat onto the table fifteen minutes into shooting.

It was your turn to start the first question to the second round, “What type of social situations make you feel the most awkward?” You read off the card, watching as OJ lolled his head around to look at you.

His large round eyes gave you a look as he sat up straight in the chair now. He drummed his fingers against the table pretending to think about it, “Situations exactly like this one.”

“You guys walked right into that.” You laughed, glancing at the camera and then a few of the camera crew.

A woman added, “Can you please elaborate?”

OJ sighed pressing his elbows into the table, “I don’t care to be in social situations like that. If you haven’t noticed I’m not a big talker and this is probably the most y’all got me to talk today. I can go a whole day without saying much and be fine with it. Put me in a bar and people start conversations with me there, awkward. I used to go to bars with my late father and he had no issue chatting with anyone there. Me? I’m ready to go after one drink. Send me to the store? I don’t browse, I go there for a reason, get what I need to and I’m going back home. I don’t need all eyes on me given what I’ve just been through and ‘specially right now. It’s uncomfortable and the only reason I didn’t get up after level one and leave is because of my honey that’s sitting right across from me.”

The room went silent as OJ voiced exactly what he was feeling. Those that didn’t know him would feel like this was a outburst but you knew better as his frame visibly relaxed after he said his peace. His eyes went back to yours as you placed the card to the pile and reached out for one of his hands. OJ’s ebony calloused but warm hand gave yours a nice squeeze as you dipped your head at him.

“You okay to continue baby? Or you wanna scram? I’m sure they have enough content from us to edit.” You asked while OJ gave out a brief turn of his lips.

OJ thanked you with his eyes, “Mm. I’ll ask a question to you before we do. Cool with you?”

“Sure.”

He tilted his head with a nod before holding a card up to his eyes to read, not caring what the crew thought at this point, “what would you change about the world?”

Taking a deep inhale, your mind scrambled with multiple options. The mistreatment of the environment would be the most simplest answer.

OJ always loved watching you as your brain tried to process everything you were thinking. It was almost as if he could see the light bulbs in your eyes as they scanned for a answer from your brilliant brain.

A smile erupted on your own lips as you said, “I’d change everything it’s done to you.”

OJ immediately pulled the back of your hand up to his lips. He didn’t need you to further explain like he knew the film crew was expecting, your words attached to the genuine light in your eyes was all he needed to make his heart swell. He’d wouldn’t tell you that but he showed you with a kiss to your skin.

JESSIE “JR” RAYMOND

What started out as a light hearted segment during what this production called, “round one,” quickly shifted as you sat across your boyfriend of a few months.

You didn’t want to hear anyone call you a bad sport (since you weren’t keen on this whole idea in the first place) so you showed up. It also put you at ease because you would be doing these questions with JR which you had no knowledge of thanks to Nate. You assumed it would be you versus which ever friend production pulled out a hat or whatever Nate told them.

It was Friendsgiving after all but you weren’t complaining! You considered JR your friend who you easily fell in love with but always fell back because it wasn’t the right timing. You only just got around to being friends your senior year of high school and you never thought you’d be friends with a whole ass jock. It wasn’t really your scene not after you’ve seen plenty do your friends dirty…yes that means you were bias but JR so happened to be different.

Which meant he had shameless girls falling over and after him. You vowed not to be one of them despite your own mother, aunties, and your own “Christian,” grandmother telling you to get JR on lock as soon as you could. Like? Why couldn’t you just be friends? He had such a good heart, you knew that but it took you going to college together the first two years to want that heart full-time.

JR cleared his throat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours underneath his eyelashes. You knew from the expression on his face that this was serious or it could be him putting on a dramatic effect. However usually a smile broke as he got the question out but that face did not change as he held the card.

“Will I find your ex on your instagram/facebook feed? Why or why not?” JR flicked the card onto the table as you laughed a little.

“What’s funny?”

“I’m only on Instagram and Twitter. I deleted my Facebook after some country ass great-uncles got creepy and their girlfriends got mouthy like we’re not related so…no.” You started while JR carefully took in your words.

You reached out to run a hand up JR’s clothed sleeve as you kept smiling, “y’all got my man stressed over this and for what? I don’t nearly have as many exes as Jessie…”

“Don’t deflect, baby. Stay on track, please.” JR encouraged while you rolled your eyes.

“For Twitter no. I don’t know if they follow me or not and I don’t want to take the time to find out,” you continued, “I know for sure I don’t follow them. I had one or two request on Instagram but i didn’t feel like it was necessary to allow that. Even before JR and I decided to be official. Those relationships didn’t end bad or anything like that but that’s the past and I don’t need to know what’s they’re doing in their daily lives. I wish them well though but I’m focused on my life and what I have going on.”

“Well alright,” JR was all grins then while you shook your head at him in disbelief.

Then the film crew had to stir the pot, “what about you JR? Would they find any of your exes on your feed?”

JR stopped smiling then which made you quirk up a brow before you glanced at your gel-x nails.

“Uh—it’s kinda similar to my baby’s Twitter but with Instagram. My page isn’t on private though and anyone can follow me and I do have more relationships than them. So yeah I have exes from high school that still follow me and I follow them. I haven’t unfollowed them because I’m now in a relationship.” JR was honest with his answer.

You now toyed with JR’s initial necklace that was now on your neck as he said this.

“Does this bother you?” One of the film crew asked.

Lifting your shoulders you replied, “this wasn’t my question for JR but…not really? I’m secure in our relationship, although it’s fresh but we’ve been friends for a couple of years now and I have faith in us. I feel like I know him well enough to not think negatively about what he maybe thinking about his past encounters. That’s a closed chapter. I’m the new one. Therefore, I’m not going to demand what he does on his account. Simple.”

“We solid.” JR confirmed, holding his hand out for dap.

You did your signature handshake, “real bad but we’re not gonna ignore the double standard here. That’s a private conversation for another day.”

JR dipped his head, now looking at you a bit sheepishly, “Agreed.”

Plucking up a card you read off your question to your boyfriend, “What could you have done better in your previous relationship(s)?”

Huffing to yourself you placed it down. You wondered if these questions were instigating anything between your friends too because it definitely seemed like they were trying to start something between you two. However the both of you knew how to handle yourselves quite well.

“Communication,” JR told with furrowed brows as he said this, “most definitely. I had that issue all throughout high school when it came to disagreements and was ready to call it quits with a swiftness. The childishness was so bad at fourteen.” He laughed to himself before saying, “I even struggled with that in my last relationship freshman year in college.”

You knew of this situation and empathized with it. It was not your relationship to pass judgment on but you were there when JR broke it off and seen how hurt he had been. It pained him even further when he learned the truth and how he felt like he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend. Ultimately to know what his ex had truly been through and how she would live with that for the rest of her life, bothered him.

He shut her out because of his assumption and lack of communication.

“How’s the communication going between you two?”

JR lifted his brows, searching your eyes for this answer. He didn’t want to say something when you may not feel the same.

Keeping your eyes on JR’s you spoke, “we take the time to. I actually think Jessie’s great at it, he really listens to understand and not listen to speak since you know how there’s people like that? Not my man.” You winked making JR slowly beam at you, “He also knows how to ask open ended questions when we really need to discuss something.”

“Yes, I learned a little something something in my behavioral course.” JR smiled, “they’re a different communicator though. It’s lots of non-verbal cues I have to pick up on to get a sense if talking is what is needed at the time. We kinda just know what works after being around each other for a bit.”

You mirror his smile.

“So it’s all peaches and cream?”

JR glanced at the crew, sensing what you were feeling as the conversation shifted this round. He wasn’t sure if it was to get content or was the purpose truly trying to get the both of you to get closer. To connect. However that phrase felt…shady as you would say. Y’all were being open with complete strangers so why was it feeling like no one in the room was rooting for you when they didn’t know you?

“Yeah,” JR refrained from turning his eyes into slits at the main person that was prying, “and if it isn’t? We’ll do our damn best to figure it out because that’s what a team does.”

He turned back to you, watching as you got up to sit down in his lap, arms slipping around his neck. You two shared a slow peck solidifying that as his hands rested on your waist.

“Team work makes the dream work.” You stated staring into his eyes briefly, before looking back at the crew as JR placed a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes ma’am, you’re my dream.”

You face JR again, knowing he meant that as you caressed his brows; staring down at his lips knowing he was awaiting another kiss.

“We’re being corny.” You mumbled, knowing you were still attached to a mic but it didn’t matter.

JR lightly gripped your jaw as he shrugged, “I know but we still cute though.”

Which earned him a laugh and another kiss.

LANDO JOHNSON

“What did the people who raised you teach you about love?”

Lando let out a low whistle as you read the question. You chuckled to yourself reaching for the glass of water to cater to your growing sore throat. Just imagine being sick around turkey day? What the hell were you supposed to enjoy without your throat hurting? Cranberry sauce?

“Oh, we getting deep huh sweetheart.” Lando rubbed his hands together, before glancing upwards at the lights in thought.

“Times two.” You held up a peace sign, making Lando laugh as he watched you.

Lando fell silent, pressing his elbows into his upper thighs as he thought about his parents marriage. “I’m a military brat, my father is a marine and plans on retiring as soon as I graduate and go pro. So we’re all supposed to accept change but my mother? She wasn’t like that. She hated change and was your typical Georgia peach. Georgia is all she’s ever known so when she met my dad she wasn’t willing to go over all the place, she liked traveling but not if that meant she had to spend it alone. Once she got pregnant with me that stopped, she had seen enough and my mom was always set in her ways.”

Placing your hand on top of Lando’s for comfort you listened to what you already knew.

“My parents are complete opposites. My dad can be tough, disciplined, active, and prideful. My mother was a artist, one of her paintings is actually in the library at our university. She was quiet but stubborn, kind-hearted, and goofy at times…” Lando described the two that raised him, “They taught me that love is patient and love is not a need or a want.”

You felt like Willow at the red table talk as you listened to your boyfriend tell you this. Whenever you had conversations like these, lando can have you thinking about a lot and you admired that. He had a way with words and knew how to challenge you by looking at things from all perspectives.

In the end, not all things are one sided.

“How so?” You commented as his eyes found yours.

Lando used his free hand to caress his chin as he explained, “my dad would be off on duty in other countries while we stayed here in Georgia. To anyone on the outside it appeared as if that was what worked for them but I knew there were times that they both grew tired of this. Yet they were patient with each other, learned that together. However they taught me the difference between need and want. Need can be based around fear, and a lot of people feel like they can’t live without someone so they need them. Fear is the opposite of love, you shouldn’t be fearful in a relationship. Wanting gives them the freedom to leave but you still love them. When my mother got diagnosed…my dad and I both learned more about the need and want aspect.”

“Wow,” you breathed feeling like the two of you were the only ones in the room—which was often.

“My parents could live without each other and love with distance. I think that was the universe preparing them for my mother’s future departure. It all makes sense to me. To some it won’t but I know love can take work and isn’t always what you expect.” Lando finalized.

“Shout-out to Mr. And Mrs. Johnson.” You clapped it up for the pair while Lando just shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

Lando reached for his own card to read to you, “they’re pretty cool but I’m cooler right sweetheart?” He winked before he awaited your answer.

“You aight.” You teased while Lando shook his head and looked directly into the camera.

“We don’t rock with liars.”

“Oh, shut up.” You lightly kicked his foot underneath the table.

Lando inhaled trying to get comfortable in this ugly bamboo chair, “okay, croaky. I mean love—this is your question.”

Balling up your fist at the man you laughed, almost going into a coughing fit before he slid your water closer to you. Raising the glass you mouthed at the camera, ‘it’s not COVID.’

“So…how’s your heart today? Really?”

It was almost as if Lando had this question memorized with the way it said it with such ease. He didn’t even have to break eye-contact to ask this and seemed pretty intuitive to your response. Lando didn’t mind having chats like this and thrived on discussions, if he had something to say you were gonna hear it no matter what tone.

From the moment he started going to therapy after enduring panic attacks, he was pretty open about talking things out. He had his mother to thank for that, she didn’t allow him to bottle things up whereas his father preferred to get his frustrations out at the gun range instead. Which Lando knew wasn’t the healthiest since the military had this agenda that you had to be this stone cold person…he just accepted that was something his father wouldn’t change.

Don’t get the man wrong, his father knew when it was time to ask for help; once Lando started having panic attacks but that didn’t mean he didn’t let his pride lead the way in the beginning. And the man tried as Lando got older because Mr. Johnson also found that he needed someone to talk to too and what better person to do that than with their own son?

So yes Orlando Johnson did not mind having these conversations with someone he was spending time with.

He watched you intently, like he always did when you spoke. Just as much as your eyes shined watching him talk, his own heart felt fluttery? Whenever he looked at you.

“…somedays it’s like woooo I’m at the top of the world or a rollercoaster and then sometimes its like the drop from a rollercoaster then I’m feeling like a ogre crawling out some quicksand you know?” Your eyes were wide as you rambled, which made Lando chuckle as he zoned back in on your reply, “that’s that seasonal depression hitting but as for today? I’m a nice…I don’t know 6.5/10.”

“I receive that,” Landon said, “what can I do if anything to help make it better?”

“You’re already doing it, handsome.” You held out your glass to clink against Lando’s.

DAMON SIMS

There you two were sitting across from each other in the room with bright lights and cold air.

Damon was leaning towards you, elbows pressed into the table, while you leaned into your fist as if you were in some deep studying session and Damon was on the field ready for whatever.

“Damon, What question are you trying to answer in your life right now?”

Damon lifted his hands as he chewed on the back of his lip and then said, “how to continue moving forward in a lot of my relationships right now and what the rest of the year is gonna look like?”

You nodded your head, not shocked about this answer but felt a little worried. Did those relationships also include you? You knew most of that answer was based on Damon’s relationship with his father, although you knew he was ready to move on with his biological mom and proceeded to give the same treatment he felt his biological dad gave him when he gave him up, you knew damon still wanted answers.

“I got a lot going on although the gorgeous smile may have a lot of y’all fooled,” Damon peeked at the camera flashing a grin that you lightly shook your head at, the man couldn’t help but to let that ego out every now and then, “but I’m still human. I got shit to figure out and I know I don’t have to have it all planned but I need further direction by the end of this year. I already got my New Year’s resolution planned.”

“Will we be experiencing a New Year’s Eve kiss in the city?” You quizzed.

Damon scratched at his nose, “in cold ass New York? I might see something like a rat on skates when we’re in the moment so I dunno about all that doll.”

“See how I’m disrespected?” You tossed the card at Damon who laughed, “like I don’t cater to my man. Like I don’t have many ways to keep him warm. Damon thinks I’m gonna pull a shitty move like rose did Leo DiCaprio when I told him I’m not her.”

Damon pushed out his lips but didn’t miss a heartbeat, “let me tell y’all what she did. She made dinner for us the other night and while we were eating, her mom calls her on FaceTime right? She tells her mom that she made us Mac and cheese, asked me how I liked it and I said it was cool. Before I could even say anything further she tells her mom there’s cream cheese and onions in it. Her mom has her own successful catering business. Her mom starts to go off on her but she proceeds to tell momma that I made it and it wasn’t her! Guess who got cussed out that night? Now y’all tell me if you think she wouldn’t do me like rose?”

“Is this true?” The camera crew asked you.

Looking away over your shoulder, you curled a strand of hair behind your ear mumbling, “I’m sorry mom.”

“I need a apology too. I got the brunt of it.” Damon tried to catch your eye but you just fanned him off, “we not about to make it to New York with this stank-ness.”

“Whatever, you love me.”

“Sometimes, bro.”

You battled your eyelashes while Damon just let out a low sigh.

“When was the last time someone made you feel special on your birthday?”

“Birthdays that I remember?” You questioned.

“…we not twenty-one yet.” Damon whispered, while you mockingly covered your mouth.

“They don’t know if I got what Harriet Tubman had.”

“What?” Damon laughed, “I can’t deal with you.”

“Alright, alright,” you sighed, “I’m a winter baby but i love the summer and celebrate half birthdays yet I can’t remember nobody’s else’s—don’t quote me on that. I’d have to say I felt the most special when I celebrated my last birthday with my friends back home since we only had months left together. They wrote me letters and it all played out as a monologue at the movie theater. I thought we were going to see the new scream but nope, it was our lives played out on the big screen.”

“Dope ass friends.” Damon commented, “can’t wait to hang with them in New York in January.”

Smiling you gripped Damon’s arm to snatch the card out of his hand up to your lips while leaning on the table. “IN NEW YOOoOoOORK!”

“Here she go,” Damon pinched his brows laughing as he turned to the camera cutting his fingers against his neck, “y’all might want to stop filming, this’ll take about ten minutes since she’ll try to transition to any other song that says New York or is by a New York artist.”

Keeping the card to your mouth you gripped the sleeve of Damon’s cardigan, “these lights will expire you—

“Inspire.” He attempted to correct you.

“In New yooooooork. New York. New yooooork!” You ignored him before tapping him, “it’s your turn to rap Jay’s part.”

“No.”

“Forget you then,” you sucked your teeth before licking your lips and attempting to pull some fuckboy light skin cringe mess, “Say what up to Ty-Ty, still sippin' Mai Tais.” You started to rap what you remembered until Damon got up from his chair.

You tried your hardest to work your camera time, although you were sure this wouldn’t make the cut as Damon gripped onto your cheeks to get your attention.

And he did when he pressed his lips to yours.

“New years came early.” You breathed, smiling up at Damon who pulled you to your feet.

He tossed an arm across your shoulders before clearing his throat and began rocking you from side to side beginning to sing off-key himself, “One hand in the air for the big city…”

You wrapped both arms around Damon’s frame; grinning at both of your foolishness.

EMMETT CULLEN

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” Emmett read the question off to you with a sigh.

He found this whole ordeal kinda lame until he persuaded the camera crew to provide shots, which wasn’t originally part of the plan. At this point in the game, he was taking shots after asking you questions just because. It wasn’t even a truth or drink segment but Emmett was charming and knew how to get his way.

“Ha!” Emmett laughed, golden eyes scanning over the card once more after downing his shot, “We don’t need to guess. I’ve got a sister who—

Slamming your hand on the table, you widened your eyes at your husband who sent you a dimpled grin. He held his hand out to calm you as he carried on.

“My sister Alice, what’s up if you’re watching! She’s a legit psychic and could tell us anything we need to know regarding my babe’s future.” Emmett admitted but knew the people were reluctant to believe that.

Especially since the room went quiet.

“Aw, don’t tell me you don’t believe me! I can call her up right now!”

“Emmett—

“It’s not that we don’t believe you. We get all sorts of people on this show for different things so maybe you can give us her contact info after?”

“Oh yeah,” Emmett smirked, “did you have vampires and witches too?”

“No we haven’t had any of those that I can recall.”

Emmett whipped his head around to yours, wiggling his brows while you scoffed at him. Of course he wouldn’t be on his best behavior, he wouldn’t be himself if he was.

“Put your library on shuffle. Explain the first song that comes up and why it best represents your relationship or in our case, marriage?” You moved on as Emmett couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

He lifted his body with ease, yanking his phone out to open Apple Music. He was the Apple Music guy and you were a Spotify girl, it was a whole debate that you didn’t want to get into right now.

“Alright, here it is. Starting the countdown! In three…two…one…!” And he pressed play followed by the music.

Emmett tossed the phone on the table after turning up the volume that would most likely blow out his speakers. He then began mimicking the guitar and drums as the band began to sing.

I never believed in things that I couldn't see

I said if I can't feel it then how can it be

No, no magic could happen to me

And then I saw you

I couldn't believe it, you took my heart

I couldn't retrieve it, said to myself

What's it all about

Now I know there can be no doubt

You can do magic

You can have anything that you desire

Magic, and you know

You're the one who can put out the fire

You know darn well

When you cast your spell you will get your way

When you hypnotize with your eyes

A heart of stone can turn to clay

He paused it, “well, well, how ironic for this song to best describe our marriage, huh babe? For the too young out there or uncultured, this was released in 1982 by a band called America. It’s a feel good song and when I’m with my babe, my wife, that’s what it feels like all of the time. Good vibes. Some might even say magical.” He snorted to himself, tipping a imaginary (most likely witch) hat.

The insiders he was throwing right underneath these people’s noses was actually a little funny, stupid but funny regardless.

“She’s from a wicked place herself, Louisiana and this was actually the first song I remembered hearing when I met her at this restaurant you have to take a boat through murky water to get to. That was a sign we should be together from the music itself.” Emmett told, keeping his eyes on you before he grabbed another shot, “and I’m a big believer in the signs.”

“Not the love spells?”

“So you admit you did a love spell on me?” Emmett dipped his head as he stared over at you, a sly grin threatening to appear.

“Please, I don’t need to do much to get you falling at my feet.”

Emmett’s booming laughter was heard, “she’s not wrong,” he tilted his head then took the shot, “and I love putting in the work if that means I get to have you.” He winked.

LEAH CLEARWATER

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” You blew out a breath as you could feel the heat radiating beneath your girlfriend’s dark brown eyes.

Leah chewed down on her bottom lip and you weren’t expecting her to answer this. However she wanted to be transparent and honest with you mainly, fuck the cameras.

“I love my mother,” Leah started, “she’s always been a good mother. I just always felt like there was a disconnect somewhere. I was always closer to my late father and Seth is closer to mom. It’s the usual weird dynamic, the son gravitates to the mother and the daughter with their father. We were no different.”

This you knew. It wasn’t something intentional but that was just the way it was and that did not necessarily mean that one parent loved the child any less or vice versa. You’ve seen Sue Clearwater plenty of times out of the five years you’ve been dating her daughter and she had the whole maternal vibe. She was sweet, constantly trying to get you to eat, nurturing, courageous and not to mention beautiful.

Leah sniffed, “like I said there’s this disconnect there long before my dad died but it seemed to increase afterwards? She’s currently in a relationship with this woman’s—that I don’t particularly care for father. He’s fine or whatever but it makes me feel gross that he literally helped produce someone who has caused one of my friends pain. He’s a reminder of that along with trying to take my dad’s place as if he wasn’t friends with him. It’s almost like he spit in my face being with my mom, that colonizer.”

Charlie Swan and Sue Clearwater had been in a relationship for over eleven years now. It still bothered your girlfriend to this day simply because she did not want to sit down and have a conversation about it. Leah did not want to waste her breath but it was evident that Charlie wasn’t going anywhere. Especially since him and Sue moved out to Oklahoma years ago to start a new chapter in lives together.

“So I say we’re content. There’s just things we don’t want to see eye to eye on. I have no problem voicing my opinions to my mom, that’s my mom. And she understands how I feel and that it’s not going to change. We love from a distance but if I need her she’ll be here in a heartbeat and if she needs me, I’ll be around.” Leah informed with her signature lisp and a sting in her eyes.

You knew Leah didn’t want you comfort her. She didn’t like to be seen as weak and you told her showing emotion never meant that you were weak. Leah’s been through a lot of hurt, was bitter towards certain people with every reason but was still healing after all these years.

There was no timeline for that.

“Let’s change the subject already!” Leah rubbed at one of her eyes as she continued sitting slouched, “What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“It plays a prominent role in my life. Family is very important to me, we’re all very close. Very affectionate. I lost both of my parents at eighteen and was thankful enough to have godparents that were willing to look after me. My parents were very loving and my godparents are the same. I carry that with everyone around me, including Leah. I love giving love as much as receiving it.” You answered making Leah scowl, who bit down on her nail as she shook her head at you.

“She’s the grumpy girlfriend but a big softie at heart that just simply wants to be loved.”

“Oh god,” Leah wanted to sink into the floor, “don’t talk about me like I’m not even here.”

“Okay, Leah. Do you feel loved by me?”

“Yeah of course I do. What kinda question is that?” Leah frowned.

“Good and I’m going to keep loving you in public and behind closed doors. We’ve been together five years, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

You exhaled, “We’re not focusing on the what if’s, we live in the now remember? So shut up and let’s make out.”

“Ew, not in front of these strangers.”

“Aw come on, live a little. You know you can’t resist all this.” You ran a hand down your body making Leah snort and look away in horror.

“…Later.” She whispered, peeking back at you, although the mic was still on.

You kissed your lips at Leah who flicked the card at you, knowing you wouldn’t be stopping the love any time soon and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

[ruruslayrr]

Churros kisses

Synopsis : Gojo and Hina go on the their first date after being enemies who were mutually pining for each other for nearly 6 years. They love each other but it's hard to let go of their bickering.

Tags : Gojo×fem OC , fluff, they're idiots in love, established relationship, OC is a jujutsu sorcerer. Enemies to lovers? Clingy Gojo, Soft Gojo, grumpy×sunshine, Excited Gojo, angst? If you squint, post-mutual pining, they're around 21 and 22 age wise, you can self-insert if you want.

WC : 2k

Notes : I just want a clingy gojo hanging off me okayy🤨. This is based off a prompt by (once I find them I will tag them), I'm stupid pls forgive me. I'm reposting from Ao3. Just plain old brainrot

“I’m not going to do that” “But” “No” “Just” “No“ “ For me?”

Gojo pouted, lowering his shades a bit so that she could see his puppy dog eyes, tilting his head to the side hoping you would give in to his demands.

She felt her will crumble.

Hina would never admit out loud how her heart squeezed at his antics.

“………. fine’, she sighed, giving up. She let him put the black bunny ears on her head

She sighed again turning to look at him, red creeping up her skin.

He was smiling so wide she almost forgot her embarrassment for a minute.

Sighing, she relented.

well if it made him happy.

Gojo excitedly continued to look for matching headbands for himself and asked her what suited him the best.

The 6’3’ towering man enthusiastically modelled in front of the mirror, she noticed how everyone in the store also ogled at him, whispering excitedly. Hina surreptitiously moved closer to him plucking a headband from the stand and reaching up on her toes to place them on his head.

His answering smile was blinding “I knew it! Cat ears suit me best “

Hina rolled her eyes trying not to smile.

Gojo grinned at her and pulled her to the mirror so they could both see themselves in the mirror.

“We look adorable, don’t we?”

He looked cute, and she looked like she would rather be anywhere than here, but they did look good, thought Hina.

“This is so embarrassing “, she grumbled instead.

He took out his phone to snap a million pictures.

“Your right! we are adorable. “ he said, ignoring her earlier statement.

Gojo paid for the headbands and threw an arm over her shoulder, guiding themselves out of the souvenir shop. He used his other hand to gesture to the amusement park dramatically.

“ Are you ready Hina Chan? Ready to go on our very first date to the amusement park”

“It’s not the first time we have come here”, Hina informed him.

“ Ahh but it is the first time we are here as a couple “

Couple.

Hina's stomach did flips.

She cleared her throat and tried to look away so he wouldn’t see the blush rising up her face.

“Let’s go “ she announced and started strutting ahead first.

She tried to ignore how hot her face had become. It was positively embarrassing how the smallest things made her feel like she was on cloud nine.

“ Hey ey Hina Chan here are you rushing off without me, “ he asked excitedly bounding after her.

Hina slowed down.

“Wait a second, are you possibly blushing?”

‘“No “

“What did calling us a couple get you feeling all tingly”

“No”

“ Aw come on. Look at me. I want to see your blushing face”

“I’m not blushing, “ she said stubbornly walking ahead, trying to keep some distance between them.

Her heart was reacting all weirdly today and she felt the mask she always kept in place slipping. She would be damned if she let Gojo see her like this.

His long legs easily caught up with her and entwined his arm with hers. Clinging to her side, he put his weight on her side.

She tried to shake him off.

Gojo tried to peer into Hina’s face.

“Aww”, he started cooing, “You are so cute when you are embarrassed”

“Do you want to get your ass kicked”

“Kinky babe, I’m trying to keep this a pg 13 date.”

“You are definitely getting punched.”

“Please go ahead, and continue your little threats.”, He lowered his voice and whispered.

“You know how that gets me going”, He chuckled and proceeded to bite her ear.

“GOJO !! “ she yelped, elbowing him.

“Oww,” he said rubbing his stomach. pouting at her.

She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his antics most of the people around them were either couples or parents trying to manage their kids, and oblivious to them.

“But….”, his pout slowly turned into a smirk. “Well now I can at least see your face “

“You’re so red you are blending into your hair!”

Hina squawked indignant, before turning and walking away.

Gojo laughed. His long strides caught up with her once more, he went back to clinging and hanging off in Hina’s arm.

Hina grumbled silently as Gojo began to drag her to every ride in the amusement park.

“ Hey you signed up to date me”, he reminded me, smirking.

“I’m really questioning my decision-making skills “

“Oh they’re terrible, “ he told me seriously. “I’m so glad they suck though, that’s how I could get you to go out with me “ he stated winking at her.

Hina snorted.

Gojo laughed wrapping his arms around her shoulders and giving her a slight squeeze, his laughter still rumbling in his chest.

She rolled her eyes and failed to hide her own smile adorning her face.

Hina’s heart felt warm looking at his overconfident smirk. She had hated it once and on more than one occasion had tried to smack it off his face but she had to grudgingly admit to herself that particular smirk now had a special place in her heart.

*

The sun had begun to set.

After going on almost all the rides in the park, despite her protests she had given into Gojo’s whining about how they had to have the full amusement park date experience.

“ Gojo let’s take a break “Hina finally said, and before he could pout, she continued “I know you are exhausted too. I can see you wincing “

Hina had noticed how his eyes looked tired behind his dark glasses, he had winced every time there had been a lot of light on his face.

He stopped at that, eyes widening slightly. She dragged him to a bench under the shade. “Sit and close your eyes for a bit, Why didn’t you just wear your blindfold”

“It’s not that bad, I don’t get exhausted that quickly “ he mumbled taking a seat.

“I know you’ve been working without a break this week you know. Where’s you blindfolded?”, she asked exasperatedly.

“T’is our first date, so I decided not to get it “, he mutters defensively.

Hina pursed her lips. ‘“I’ll go get some water, so rest “, she said pointing at the seat

He let out a petulant humpf .

“Just a few minutes”

He sighed, closing his eyes

“Get me dessert too”, he huffed.

Hina gave an amused chuckle before going to the refreshments kiosk. It took her some time waiting in line to get the water and refreshments.

By the time she returned, She saw something that made her scowl.

There were three girls surrounding your boyfriend, one of them actually batted her eyelashes and flirted with him.

She scoffed and went up to them.

Hina gritted her teeth and tried her best to mask her irritation Gojo seemed to notice you and started smiling but an expression of surprise took over instead.

Hina turned to the girls.

One of the girls felt a cold chill up her spine and turned to Hina, She balked feeling irritation just rolling off her. The other two also turned to look at her frowning. They looked slightly intimidated at the sight of her. Gojo slid next to Hina, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“And this my lovely girlfriend that I was talking about girls”, he announced happily.

“Well. Hello there”, she said her voice clipped.

The girls visibly shrunk under Hina’s cold glare.

“I see “, they mumbled, laughing awkwardly.“We should leave “, said one of them, dragging the other two away from us.

“Scary “ chuckled Gojo looking at her.

“I didn’t even do anything! “, stated Hina.

“You didn’t need to, their survival instinct probably kicked in ”, he chuckled.

She scoffed indignantly.

He had a large smug grin plastered on his face, his icy blue eyes staring at her lips for a beat too long and then moving to her eyes.

Hina felt a shiver pass down her spine at that look.

“Jealousy and looking imposing does look good on you though” He praised.

Hina scowled at him. Handing him the churros she bought for him.

He paused looking at the three flavors.

“I got you all the flavours they had, I didn’t want you to complain about not being able to try all the flavours” she stated.

She looked up at his face again “ Now What??”, she asked exasperated, looking at his expression turning shy.

“What “, she asked again defensively, He had turned his head away, but she still noticed the tips of his ear turning pink.

“I know you have an ice-cold princess persona to maintain but I’ve observed you for years so I know what you really mean when you are hiding your emotions”

“I do not “

“Please 6 years of you scowling at the sight of me has taught me things, for example “, he drawled. “You would say things like ‘Gojo you're an idiot! When you really meant ‘Oh Gojo you are the love of my life!’ “

“I did not! “

He continued seriously, his face turning soft. “I know you don’t really like showing your feelings”, he shrugged “But it’s fine since I know you like me, but I have to admit it feels really good to see you unable to control your emotions and display how much you like me ”, he smirked

That stopped her short. She knew she wasn’t exactly the most lovey-dovey person, she knew she was a little cold, especially to him, while he was clingy, obnoxious and loud about his feelings. He had put up posters on the school noticeboard when she had agreed to be his friend in high school, which had led to her promptly denouncing their friendship.

She thought about their day, she felt guilty when she realized she’d grumbled the entire day and tried to put as much distance as possible between them as she could. But then again that was because he was just incredibly handsy with absolutely no sense of decorum.

She sighed, confessing “I’m sorry that I’m not exactly very open but I do like you”, she said quietly. “I’m just used to being angry and mean to you that it's kinda hard to remember that I don’t hate you anymore, so I’ll work..on….”, mumbled Hina.

‘“That..mak..es sense“, said Gojo with his mouth filled with food. She looked at him realizing he was inhaling the churros when she was opening up.

He was still chewing, his mouth full of food. He nodded at her thinking.

Hina’s eye twitched and she remembered why he had annoyed her for all these years.

She sighed in frustration and started walking ahead.

But he had been right about her not being as affectionate, and she did like seeing his stupid smiles. She sighed again, halting.

She turned to him, vowing to try more but noticed his empty hands..“You didn’t even leave any for me “, she accused.

He looked apologetic. “You don’t really like sweets”, he countered.

“Still!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll buy all your favourites for dinner “

He gave her puppy dog eyes, bending to her height to meet her eyes and pout. The cat headband slipped lower on his fluffy white hair.

“And snacks for a week”, she interrupted.

“Done”, He promised.

She chuckled and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers.

She tried to control the blush rising up her cheeks.

He looked at their hands and looked at Hina with an almost giddy expression that knocked the breath out of her.

She giggled.

His expression darkened and his eyes flitted to her mouth.

“Don’t “she warned

He ignored her warning pulling her close and pressing a wet kiss to her cheek,

“Gojo! There are kids here! “ she yelped.

He kissed her again and this time she couldn’t stop the giggles that escaped her.

She sighed, giving up and closed her eyes as he brought his lips to hers in a slow, melting kiss, that had her smiling against his lips.

The kiss made her forget about decorum.

Screw it.

She gave up and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

[prairieenyasblog]

today's dream may have been affected by my swollen eye perhaps bc shit be crazy. (also guys don't sleep w your make up on this hurts. i thought i could trick the system but i couldn't).

Anyways the plot was very strange. I was with two of my best friends in an unspecified location, in a superstructure that was almost like a mall? Picture a tiny fruits&veggies store but as you walk into the door at the back you enter like a BIG WHITE SHINY MALL W MULTIPLE FLOORS. Crazy building. Suddenly more people i know show up and we hang out while there's like a race going on? we're doing make up n shit, just walking around and chatting, and then we eventually sit down at a table. I think it's important to mention now one of the people with us was a girl i didn’t like years ago because she was pretty mean (weirdly always to other people, not me) which lead me to sometimes be mean to her, and even though to this day i still find the way she acted to be terrible, i do sometimes regret the way i acted and wish we could meet again to see how we've both changed (if we have). Anyways so she was there and we were seeing eachother for the first time in years. at some point i left my phone on and there was like my twitter bio or smth on the screen mentioning how i'm a lesbian. and she just looked at it and then silently asked like (???) and i just went "yeah". and then she proceded to be lesbophobic for the rest of.the dream wHICH IS CANON ! ? CAUSE I REMEMBER HER SAYING SOME PRETTY LESBOPHOBIC SHIT A COUPLE OF TIMES BEFORE I KNEW I WAS LESBIAN but whatever right. Suddenly they started playing joost songs in the mall (specifically wachtmuziek bc of the art i did) and we just were like HELL YEAH (all of us) so like idk. uhhhhyhhhh joost mentioned yall !

[umichenginabroad]

Week 0: Ireland before the Program!

Hello, hello! It is Declan McGrath here checking in before my program officially starts at UCD in Dublin this Sunday. I am so incredibly excited to begin this program and meet all of the amazing people that are going to be in this program with me as well as other people from around the world and Ireland.

First, a little bit about myself. I am a first-year mechanical engineering undergraduate. I absolutely love to cook and try new foods, read, play videogames, take pictures on my Polaroid cameras (which I will most likely be sharing with you all throughout the program!), and just all around hang out! Up until this point, I have never actually left the United States so this trip is going to be an entirely new experience for me! From trying all the new and different foods to exploring a different culture to meeting new people it is all going to be brand new. The program I am a part of is the IPE: Big 10 STEM and Irish Studies in Dublin at University College Dublin. This program has me taking Physics 2 lecture and lab as well as a History of Modern Ireland course which both meet requirements for my major.

I actually arrived in Ireland two weeks before my program started and have been exploring Ireland a lot! My family has a lot of Irish roots and so when I got confirmation that I was accepted into the program my family almost immediately began planning a family trip there before the program started. We drove from Michigan across the border to Canada to catch a flight alllll the way to Dublin. We landed in Dublin at around 9 AM (incredibly jetlagged) but began to make the most of our time in Dublin by exploring the various pubs, restaurants, and stores throughout the city while also visiting some amazing national monuments and museums. We walked through the rain to the famous Temple Bar Pub in Dublin where I got some amazing Irish fish and chips! All of the food I have had in Dublin has been amazing actually. There are so many ice cream stores in every city and some even have something called “bubble waffle” which is essentially an extra sweet waffle with bubbles in it and coated in ice cream. And the soft serve ice cream they have here is absolutely amazing, probably better than the US’s (and that’s coming from a guy who used to work at a Dairy Queen!).

After a couple days in the city we took a trip out into the Irish countryside to a small AirBnB in Terryglass. We picked up a rental car and I helped navigate my dad out of the city and into the countryside. It was so weird sitting on the left side of the car and not being the one driving and even weirder to see all the cars driving on the opposite side of the road. That is honestly the biggest thing that I do not think I will ever get used to while abroad, so it is probably a very good thing that I will not be driving at all on this trip. While out in Terryglass my family and I made a trip out to Cashel Rock to see the final resting place of Miler McGrath, an ancestor of mine with way too many great’s in front of grandpa for me to type out. It was very cool to see this amazing fort and also learn some things about my heritage. I could keep going on about all these things I did before the program even starts but I don’t want to spoil Ireland for y’all before the program even starts!

I am really, really excited for the program to start and I have been thinking a lot about all of the things I want to do during this program. So much so that I made a list!

Get to know the people on the trip with me! There are a whole bunch of people that I have never met before that are going on this same journey and I want to take the time and get to know all of them. 

Travel! Travel between European countries is supposed to be really affordable and I want to take full advantage of the free time that this program has to offer by taking weekend trips with other program members.

Get some awesome photos with my Polaroids! I brought a lot of film with me on this trip and somehow managed to burn through almost all of it before the program began :’) so I want to buy some more film and continue to take photos of all the amazing sights Ireland has to offer.

Pass my classes! This trip is not just about having a blast in Europe, it is also an opportunity to learn a lot in subjects that I am genuinely interested in. I have always been interested in physics and (from what little I was able to glean from short museum trips) Irish history is fascinating.

I am slightly nervous about adapting to the fast-paced environment of Dublin. The city is always bustling with activity and it can be a little bit hectic but I am ready and excited to face it head on. Though I am also a little nervous about getting lost in the city. I have a habit of slightly getting sidetracked (especially when there are so many cool stores all around) while walking around but hopefully I can make some friends on the program that can help me get from A to B with as few side quests as possible. 

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read my blog post! I am so excited for this program to begin, travel to new places, and meet new people. Until next time!

~Declan McGrath