#this is a little late because i had to keep rewritting it

[sugarypinecones]

a panic challenge is busted and having to avoid the cops with dodge… sneaking you into his bedroom while his mom and sister sleep… giving you a rodeo t-shirt to sleep in… maybe making the first move straight away… or maybe going to bed and then waking up a few hours later tangled together in his bed…

we were jet-set, bonnie and clyde — dodge mason x reader

warnings: SMUT(?) he never actually gets close enough but he gets.. pretty close, like cum in your pants close oops but i can do a pt2 i just kinda got confused and unsure how to really.. like do things idk and i kinda hate it but it took so much time and writing i feel bad if i scrapt it, mentions of reader living in texas obviously, reader has no real desire to win panic, whiny desperate dodge, idrk how to tag its late im tired, dayna interrupts without knowing

a/n: oh i love this actually. like actually love this. like im foaming at the mouth thinking about this actually. title from getaway car by taylor swift also, love u all and ty for the request!! 💐💐 also sucks esp the ending but like idk im down to rewrite the ending if not continue the tangled thing! just lmk if you actually wanted it and dont be afraid to leave other requests.

Living in Carp, Texas meant that there weren’t many fun things to do. You can only drive around an empty parking lot for so long before getting bored. So when the opportunity of playing Panic rises, you rise with it.

And surprisingly, you didn’t immediately get eliminated. In fact — you’ve somehow made it this far, round two, which.. you’re sure you’re going to fall to your death or just entirely not do it. And you were fine with that, truly. You had your fun.

Now it was time to focus on something a little bit more real – your chances of winning the pot were low, especially because of all that stuff last year, and because of Dodge Mason.

If you didn’t know what determination was before that boy, you definitely did now. It was hard not to see him and not see determination, especially after the first challenge. He didn’t have fear in his eyes when he did it, unlike any of the other contestants. He had something else.

You shift on the hood of the beat-up car, sighing as you look over your shoulder for any sign of your friends. It was hard to tell through the sea of people — some juniors who were eager to see the game, some graduates who refused to play, such and such.

Dodge’s eyes roamed over to you, taking in the way you fiddled with the bracelets on your wrists and the tight, nervous expression on your face. He knew what you were thinking — he could see it in your eyes. I don’t belong here.

He watched you look around for your friends and found himself wondering why you were alone. Why weren’t you with them?

He seems to recognize you from the first challenge, and when you meet his gaze, he raises a hand. A small smile follows, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling in return.

Something sparked in Dodge’s chest as your lips curled into a small smile — he hadn’t expected a smile in return. Nor had he expected your eyes to soften at the sight of him, or your cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink.

Maybe he had more of a chance with you than he thought.

The sight of you smiling in return gives him just enough confidence to walk over, stopping in-front of you. It was slightly unnerving, but it felt nice. Exhilarating, even.

He smirked to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to you — and just like that, his bravado returned.

“So,” he started, turning his head to the side to look down at you as he leaned against the car. “Here to root for me?”

Your gaze tilts to him, and you almost laughed. “No, I’m here to win.”

Dodge raised an eyebrow at your response, a scoff and chuckle of disbelief slipping between his lips. He turned around, leaning his hip against the hood of the car, the smirk never wavering from his face.

“Oh, really?” He said, cocking his head to the side. “You honestly think you stand a chance against me?”

He wasn’t sure where all this confidence was coming from - because if it were anyone else, he would’ve just been nodding along with simple responses by now.

You grin. “I know so.”

He let out a hearty laugh and shook his head.

“I’m serious!” You exclaim, although, you really aren’t. You planned to chicken out the second you got called on that death-trap of a beam, no way in hell are you risking your life just to possibly lose in the end.

“Yeah,” he begun, but you shook your head; letting laughs fall from your lips. “No, not really.” You grin up at him, and he acts surprised; but he kind of had a feeling from the start you wouldn’t actually go through with any of this.

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re backing out just like that?”

Your eyes catch on the flex of his muscles as his arms fold over his chest, before flickering back up to his face with a shrug. “I guess—“

You’re cut off by the sound of sirens approaching, closing your eyes as you let out a frustrated exhale. Playing panic was dangerous — watching it, even.

Dodge’s expression quickly turned serious as the sound of sirens filled the air. He immediately turned his head towards the noise, his muscles tense and eyes narrowing.

He quickly looked back over at you, silently cursing how distracted he had become from your presence. He should have been on guard — his focus needed to be on the task at hand, not on some cute girl.

“Cops,” he said lowly, looking back at the police cars approaching.

“Obviously,” you retort, sliding of the hood as you glance over your shoulder. There wasn’t really much places to scatter to, but –

Your train of thought is cut off by his hand on your wrist, pulling you along towards a patch of woods.

Dodge moved fast, tugging on your wrist and pulling you away from the car. He quickly led you towards a patch of woods nearby, trying to put as much distance between you and the cops before they got out of their cars.

He kept his grip on your hand as you ran, his fingers wrapped firmly around your wrist. They were rough — calloused from working on the farm and years of horseback riding.

As they made it into the safety of the trees, Dodge pulled you behind a large oak, pinning you against the trunk.

He quickly retracted, internally cursing himself for doing such. “Sorry, instinct,” he grumbles, although not angry towards you, god, not you.

“You lead a lot of girls away from cops?” You quip, fighting the urge to laugh to yourself.

Dodge let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

He’d somehow managed to pull you almost 500 yards within that span of three minutes.

“Yeah, all the time,” he replied sarcastically, his smirk returning as he leaned his shoulder against the tree next to you. “You’re the twenty-third one I’ve led this month alone.”

You roll your eyes, “How charming.”

Dodge chuckled at your eye roll, leaning closer to you and looking down at you. His smirk widened as he pushed himself off of the tree, turning to face you fully.

“Yeah, I’m a real charmer,” he joked, crossing his arms over his chest once more. He paused then, noticing how close he was to you.

He cleared his throat before speaking again, pulling away, partially in fear of scaring you, partially in fear he couldn’t stop himself from asking to kiss you. “So, uh… you got a ride home or something?”

Fuck. No you did not. You hadn’t actually accounted that part down — you came with your friend, who is currently nowhere to be found, if not currently in the back of a cop car.

“No.” You huffed, narrowing your gaze as you looked at him, “I was gonna crash at Natalie’s,” You said, trying to explain your situation, which wasn’t hard to understand to begin with. Came with a friend, planned to leave with a friend, currently 500 yards away from said friend’s car, can’t exactly account to go home, as you told her you were going to bed three hours ago.

Dodge’s eyebrows furrowed at your answer — not out of annoyance, but concern. He knew the cops would be searching everywhere, and you didn’t have a ride home.

He thought for a moment, weighing his options. He couldn’t leave you out here alone until the police left. It was too dangerous.

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair again before speaking. “Alright,” he said, looking down at you. “You’re comin’ home with me, then.”

Your eyes widen, and you seem to swallow as you tilt your head forwards, perplexed. “What?”

Dodge raised an eyebrow at your reaction, his expression shifting to confusion. He was surprised that you seemed so shocked by his offer.

Although, he got it. You didn’t know him well — not outside of school at least. You had seem him a few times, sat by him in a few classes. Thought he was cute, too, but never would’ve admitted that.

“You need a place to stay for the night,” he explained, his eyes locked on yours. “And you sure as hell can’t stay here.”

He paused, eyeing you up and down before continuing. “So you’ll stay at my house. It’s not a big deal.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly snapped it shut, knowing he was right. Spending the night in the woods with the cops searching was a recipe for disaster.

Going home would be even worse.

And yet… spending the night at his house still stirred something within you — anxiety, excitement, curiosity — you couldn’t tell.

“Okay,” You nod, eyes darting around. “Yeah.” You exhale, it was for the better. You weren’t gonna sleep on the side of the road, and you knew Dodge.. to an extent, enough to know he’s not gonna pull an axe on you in your sleep.

Dodge’s face morphed into a sly grin as you agreed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He knew he was probably going to regret this later — he’d never brought a girl to his house before, let alone a girl his mother didn’t approve of.

“Atta girl,” he said, lightly patting your shoulder before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

Dodge stepped away from the protective cover of the trees, gesturing for you to follow him. The coast was clear for now, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

As you fell in step with him, he leaned down to your ear. “Just so you know,” he began in a low voice. “My mom doesn’t know you’re coming over. So.. don’t talk too loud when we get to the house, alright?”

You cock your head to the side, a slight laugh escaping under your breath. “Doesn’t know or isn’t okay?”

Dodge chuckled, shaking his head as he continued walking. “Both,” he answered, his hands still shoved in his pockets.

“She wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to have some girl she’s never met before spend the night out of nowhere.”

You nod, wondering why he’d offer in the first place then. He could’ve left you to get in trouble with your mom, left you to get eliminated, anything else.

“Is that your car?” You tilt your head forwards, breaking the silence that fell over the two teens, eyeing a white car.

Dodge followed your gaze, looking at the car you were eyeing. He nodded, a proud smile forming on his lips. “Yeah,” he said, a hint of boasting in his voice. “That’s her.”

You find it slightly funny that he’s gendered his car.

He quickly started towards the car, reaching it within a few long strides. He pulled the passenger side door open, motioning for you to get in. “C’mon.”

You almost hesitate — but, it’s not like you have another choice — or enough self control.

You hesitated for a moment, looking at the open door before climbing inside. You settled into the leather seat, shutting the door behind you, your stomach twisting with nervousness.

Dodge walked around to the driver’s side and got in, settling into the seat and buckling his seatbelt. He twisted the key in the ignition, the engine of the car coming to life with a low, rumbling purr.

He pulled out of the field and onto the road, navigating the deserted streets skillfully. You sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

Dodge glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how tense and quiet you seemed. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I guess it’s just..” You trailed off, unsure of how to actually describe the feeling.

It wasn’t scary, but it was. You were almost excited, but you didn’t know him well. Any knowledgeable person would be wary, but god, was Dodge Mason cute.

“I don’t know.”

Dodge chuckled, a sympathetic scoff falling from his lips at your failed attempt at putting your feelings into words.

He could tell you were conflicted about all of this — going home with a guy you barely knew, spending the night in a home you’ve never been to before… he didn’t blame you.

He sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Yeah, I’m sure this isn’t how you planned to spend your night, huh?”

You scoff. “Who doesn’t plan to go home with a boy they barely know after cops raid them?”

He shook his head with a grin and looked over at you again, his eyes scanning over your features. Despite the absurdity of the situation, he couldn’t help the fluttery feeling in his chest as he looked at you.

You stayed silent for a moment, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the car window. The night was still and quiet, only the hum of the engine breaking the silence.

“Dodge?” You spoke up suddenly, your voice soft.

Dodge’s attention immediately went to you, his eyes flickering over to glance at you. “Yeah?” He responded, his tone just as quiet as yours.

You shifted in your seat, turning to face him. “Can I ask you something?” you inquired, your expression slightly serious.

Dodge raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in your demeanor. “Shoot,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

You paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts before speaking. “Why did you offer to let me stay the night?”

The question had been weighing on your mind since the moment he suggested it. You knew he wasn’t exactly the most responsible or trustworthy person, yet he’d gone out of his way to offer you refuge at his home.

Dodge’s grip tightened around the steering wheel as you asked the question. He expected it, knowing it was bound to come up eventually, but he wasn’t exactly prepared to answer it fully.

The truth was simple — he found you attractive, intriguing, and he was drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud, not yet.

Instead, he shrugged nonchalantally. “Seemed like you needed a place to stay,” he responded, keeping his tone casual.

Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the hint of evasion in his answer. You knew there was more to it than that, but you also knew it wasn’t your place to push him for the truth — especially given your options in the current moment.

You let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window again. The rest of the ride passed in silence, only broken by the sound of the engine and the occasional rumble of the road beneath the tires.

After a few minutes, Dodge finally pulled into a long gravel driveway, leading up to a house. The house was modest, but well-kept. Even in the dim light, you could make out the meticulously maintained garden and the freshly painted exterior.

He shifted the car into park and killed the engine, turning to look at you. “We’re here.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and looked out the windshield, taking in the sight of the house. It was cozy, but not overly extravagant. It looked lived in — a home owned by a family who actually spent time here.

You let out a shaky breath, nerves starting to bubble up inside you once more. This was really happening. You were really going in there.

It wasn’t like regular nerves you’d had before. Not like panic, more like when you’re hanging out with a friend you’ve met for the first time — although, you technically know Dodge.

Dodge could sense the anxiety radiating from you, your nervousness evident in the way you fidgeted in your seat. He let out a low sigh, his eyes flickering over your features for a moment before speaking.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he reassured you, his voice soft. “My mom and sister are probably already asleep, so just stay quiet.”

You nodded, smiling. “Well, let’s go then. I’m tired.”

Dodge returned your smile with a nod of his own, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned his attention to unbuckling his seatbelt.

He pushed the driver’s side door open, the soft creak of the metal mixing with the sound of the crickets chirping in the night air. He got out of the car and shut the door, rounding the hood and opening your door for you.

You stepped out of the car, your shoes crunching on the gravel beneath them. You followed Dodge as he led the way to the front door, your eyes darting around nervously, taking in the surroundings.

He paused in front of the door and fumbled through his pockets, searching for his keys. After a moment, he fished them out and unlocked the door, pushing it open quietly.

He wasn’t exactly worried about making noise - his mom usually didn’t pay mind to him coming late. She figured he’d be home way later in any other circumstances, anyways.

As Dodge opened the door, a warm, inviting light spilled out from inside the house. You followed him inside, stepping into the entranceway and closing the door softly behind you.

The interior of the house was cozy and homey, with warm wood accents and comfortable furnishings. There was a sense of order and cleanliness, but it didn’t feel overly stiff or overly lived-in.

Dodge gestured for you to keep your shoes on, before nodding towards a hallway. “My room’s down there,” he whispered, indicating the direction of a long hallway to the left of the entryway.

You followed his gaze, looking down the hallway. You could see several doors lining the sides of the hallway, presumably leading to different rooms — bathrooms, bedrooms, and the like.

You looked back at Dodge, your heart rate increasing as you realized the implication of his words. His room. Where he sleeps. Where you’ll be sleeping, in close proximity to him.

Dodge noticed the look on your face, noticing the way your eyes widened slightly, betraying your thoughts. He chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension.

“Relax,” he whispered, his tone playful. “You’ll be fine. My room’s big enough for the both of us.”

You roll your eyes, “OK, cowboy.” You step into the open door, taking in the dimly-lit room. It wasn’t much. Just trophies, a wardrobe and a bed and small clutter around the room.

You liked it. You could get used to it.

Dodge chuckled at your nickname, following you into the room and shutting the door behind him. The atmosphere grew more intimate as you both entered the enclosed space, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the scent of his laundry detergent.

He leaned against the wall, watching you look around with a slight smirk on his lips. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

You don’t take any convincing, and immediately flop down onto the bed, exhaling at the feel of the differing comfort in comparison to his car and old truck.

Dodge let out another chuckle as you flopped onto the bed, his eyes watching you sprawled out on his sheets. the sight amused him - you looked like a starfish on the soft material of the mattress.

He pushed away from the wall and walked across the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Comfy?” He teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah,” you hummed, a soft grin adorning your face. “although,” you sit up, glancing to him, “wish I would’ve known i’d be having a sleepover. All my stuff is in Nat’s car.”

Dodge chuckled, his eyes scanning over you as you sat up next to him. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for this either,” he retorted, a smirk still playing on his lips.

He thought for a moment, his gaze flicking towards the door and then back to you. “You can borrow something to sleep in, if you want.”

You nod vicariously, laughing. “I am not sleeping in this.”

Dodge chuckled, leaning back on his arms as he looked you up and down. He took in your outfit, noting how out of place it seemed in this setting.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly sleepwear,” he agreed, amusement in his voice. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering over your body before he spoke again. “I got some old T-shirts you can borrow.”

He stood up, walking over to the closet, before tossing a shirt your way. It was larger, but you could tell that it was his. It smelt faintly like him, and you can make the outlines out of a cracked pattern from an old rodeo.

You smiled up at him, appreciatively. “Thanks,” you said, placing the clothes down beside you. “Do you mind if I change here?”

Being caught by his sister or mom wasn’t exactly a want for you right now.

“Nope, go ahead,” he replied, leaning against the wall lazily. “I won’t look.”

You nodded, watching as his gaze shifts towards the closet, adjusting clothes.

You waste no time peeling the clothes off of you, pulling the T-shirt over your body as you exhale, and then pulling the old sweatpants over your body, tying them as tight as you could around your waist.

“Okay.” You said.

He quickly shook the thoughts away, clearing his throat. “You decent?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Yep.” You nod, shifting back on the bed some, “Oh,” you glance away, “you can change too, sorry.”

Dodge chuckled at your realization, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to you again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you, reaching down and grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping in this, anyways.”

He pulled the fabric over his head and tossed it onto the floor, revealing his bare chest.

He knows how badly this could’ve ended - but, he was already here, and honestly the lack of sleep was beginning to make him more bold than he’d like to admit.

Your eyebrows raise, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you met his gaze.

Dodge noticed your reaction, his smirk widening as he caught your laugh. He chuckled in response, his eyes locked on yours.

“What?” He asked, his voice playful. “Never seen a guy shirtless before?”

You shake your head, blinking back shock. “I have,” you note, trying to pretend as if your eyes weren’t raking over his body.

“Just.. wasn’t expecting this.”

Her close proximity was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume filling his senses and clouding his thoughts.

He leaned in slightly, his face inches away from yours. His gaze flicked from your eyes to lips, the desire to kiss you overwhelming any logical thoughts in his mind.

"Tell me," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Tell me you want this. Tell me to, and I will. But I need to hear you say it."

He leaned in further, his lips hovering just above yours, the gap between them practically non-existent.

"I want this," you admitted, barely audible.

Without another word, he closed the minimal gap between them, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

His hands moved from your cheek to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him.

But it wasn't just about physical need, you could sense. There was a sense of desperation in the way he held you, as if this moment was more than just a passing lust.

As the kiss deepened, Dodge backed you up against the bed, gently maneuvering you until you were trapped between him and the mattress.

His hands moved under your shirt, tracing a path up your bare skin, causing you to shiver against him.

Dodge trailed hot kisses down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, worshiping every inch of your bare skin.

His mouth returned to yours, claiming your lips in a passionate embrace. He rolled his hips against you, eliciting a gasp from your lips as the friction between your bodies intensified.

With a smooth movement, he pulled away from your lips and moved to your jawline, nipping and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

“You have no idea,” he rasped, his voice low and ragged with desire, “how long I've wanted to do this.”

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, gripping the flesh hard as he shifted between your legs.

Dodge took a few moments to admire the sight of you beneath him, your face flushed and lips swollen from his kisses. He couldn't get enough of you, the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him.

He leaned down to capture your lips again, his hands roaming further up your thighs. His fingers toyed with the waistband of the sweatpants, the thought of going further crossing his mind.

Dodge broke the kiss, panting slightly as he looked down at you again.

“God,” he rasped, his gaze roaming over your flushed face and disheveled hair. “You’re so damn beautiful like this.”

He leaned back down, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “All of you. Right here. Right now.”

His lips moved to your neck, trailing hot kisses down your collarbone as his hands continued to wander over your body. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of the sweatpants, tracing patterns against your skin.

“Okay,” You nod, “okay,” you repeat softer.

Dodge's breath hitches at your agreement, his fingers stilling. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Yeah?" He asks, his voice slightly shaky. "You're sure?"

You nod, “I’m sure.”

Dodge's response is immediate, his mouth crashing back down onto yours in a passionate kiss. His hands move faster now, pushing down the sweatpants and discarding them onto the floor.

He positions himself back between your legs, his body pressing against yours as he kisses you hungrily. One of his thighs slides against you, causing you to gasp into the kiss.

Dodge takes advantage of your moment of surprise, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. His hands roam over your bare thighs and hips, gripping the flesh tightly as he continues to move against you.

You can feel his hardness pressing against you, the evidence of his desire evident and urgent. He pulls away from the kiss, panting slightly, and looks down at you.

“God,” he mutters, his voice ragged and hoarse. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He shifts his hips, pressing against you more purposefully. The friction between your bodies causes him to let out a guttural groan, his head dropping down to bury in your neck.

He peppers your neck with kisses, his lips and teeth leaving behind a trail of marks and bites. He continues to rock his hips against you, the friction growing more and more intense as the seconds pass.

His hands roam over your body, mapping out every dip and curve with fervor. He's almost feverish in his touch, his need for you overwhelming his rational thoughts.

"I need," he gasps, his breath warm against your skin, "I need..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, instead moving to capture your lips in another bruising kiss. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he increases the pace of his movements. The friction between your bodies is enough to send waves of pleasure through you, the feeling consuming your senses.

Dodge breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to see your face. He takes in the sight of you, hair mussed, eyes glazed over with desire, cheeks flushed with color.

He looks wrecked himself, his breathing labored and his body taut with tension. Every muscle in his body is pulled taught, as if he's holding back from completely letting go.

His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. He's on the edge, you can tell. But he's still holding back, still trying to control himself.

"I want... I need..." he pants, his words coming out in shuddering gasps. "I need to hear you say it. Tell me I can... tell me you want..."

He trails off, unable to finish his sentence. He's desperate, his need for you almost palpable in the air.

He know’s he’s gotten your permission beforehand, but he needs to be sure.

“Please.” You whine.

Dodge exhales a ragged breath at your response, the sound almost a moan. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his body trembling with need.

"Thank god," he gasps, his voice cracking slightly. "Thank god."

He captures your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth hungrily. His hands move from your hips to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart as he positions himself against you.

The friction between your bodies is maddening now, the pleasure building with every movement. Dodge bucks his hips against you, causing you both to moan into the kiss.

He breaks the kiss again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You feel so good," he whispers against your skin, his words sending shivers through your body. "So perfect, so goddamn perfect."

His hands roam over your body, touching and caressing every inch of exposed flesh. He's everywhere at once, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that spread through your body like wildfire.

You almost whine out at the lack of contact to your body as his hands travel to his belt.

Dodge's hands fumble with his jeans, the frantic motion a clear indicator of how desperately he needs you. He pushes the material down, kicking them off the edge of the bed with a hasty movement.

He's bare now, his body exposed and vulnerable in a way he rarely lets himself be. He positions himself back between your legs, bracing himself above you.

He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of you beneath him. You're flushed and trembling, your eyes glassy with desire. You can see his gaze flickering over your body, taking in every detail, every curve.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hands grip your hips again, holding you in place as he rolls his own into you.

The friction between your bodies is enough to drive you both insane. Dodge lets out a guttural moan into the kiss, his grip on your hips tight enough to bruise.

He swears he could come at the sight of this alone, and he honestly might.

A rapid knock to his door stirs him out of his frenzy.

Dodge grunts in surprise, pulled out of his passionate haze by the interruption. He looks up at you, his eyes still dark with desire but confused by the sudden intrusion.

"What?" he asks, his voice slightly hoarse as he called out to his sister in the hallway. "What's wrong?"

“I can’t reach the cereal above the fridge.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing as he pulled your — his, sweatpants over his body.

He raises a finger, as if telling you to wait, and you nod, but you were asleep by the time he finished helping Dana.

[indecisive-capricorn]

Priorities || Miguel O'Hara x Wife Reader

WARNINGS: Loads of fluff, a few mentions of blood, mentions of pain, slight angst, children, Mama O'Hara in action, Baby O'Hara, stubborn Miguel O'Hara, father Miguel O'Hara, etc.

SUMMARY: Miguel got injured after a mission and you insist for your stubborn husband to go to the medical center.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I got all of the medical information, especially the teething one, from the internet, so take it with a grain of salt since I didn't do much research on it. If it's wrong, please tell me and I'll correct it as soon as I can. :) And I know I'm a little late to publish this but I had to rewrite it twice because it kept on not getting saved.

MASTERLIST & REQUESTS: Have some wine before you leave, or suggest a good brand to me. any form of messages are a delight.

"She won't like this," Lyla remarked as she observed Miguel who was focused on tying the wound on his arm with a bandage. He didn't respond to Lyla's words, leading her to point out, "That cut isn't small either. It'll bleed right through the bandage if you keep it for long."

Miguel merely grumbled in response, feeling discomfort from his wound, while Lyla studied his wounded arm, concerned about the potential of an infection.

"I'm only going to check on the recruits' reports for a minute," Miguel voiced under his mask, before narrowing his eyes at Lyla, "and don't tell her about this. She already has enough to worry about."

Lyla rolled her eyes at Miguel's command, but surprisingly, she stayed silent instead of pestering him to tell you about his recent injury. It was unusual for her since Lyla would usually insist for Miguel to update you about everything after he had finished his missions, especially if he got injured. However, Miguel made no comment about it, not wanting to jinx his luck or change Lyla's mind to not pester him about it like last time.

When Miguel went into his office, expecting to see a large pile of reports on his desk, he was instead met with the sight of you standing in front of his desk, holding the baby car seat that carried your sleeping baby boy. Miguel would usually be in awe at the sight of his little boy and his beautiful wife, and he would have done so at that very moment. However, it was impossible for Miguel to not notice the intense glare you were shooting at him, telling him that he had fucked up.

"Whoops! I forgot to tell you, she's already in your office," Lyla said casually, her tone nonchalant, as if she had known about your arrival and purposely chose not to tell Miguel. And he couldn't shake the feeling that Lyla did do it on purpose.

Miguel cursed in his mind and made a mental note to find a way to get Lyla to notify him of your arrival at HQ in the future, although he knew it would most likely fail due to how much she adore you over him.

"Miguel O'Hara," your voice was sharp and stern yet it was laced with concern as well, your eyes glancing back and forth between his face and his wound, "why aren't you at the medical center right now?"

"I need to check on the reports, cariño," Miguel stated, already expecting your disbelief and the scolding you were going to give him for his stubbornness. Before you could voice your protest to Miguel, he interjected, "I was only going to take them and check it in the medical center while they treat me."

That wasn't Miguel's original plan though. He had intended to put off going to the medical center for as long as he could to continue working, possibly only going to the medical center at the last hour of the day. That way, you wouldn't scold him for not treating his wound and ban him from going on missions for a while, which you have done in the past. You can be a really scary lady at times. Although he was very intelligent, Miguel tend to be obsessed with finishing his work at times to the point that he would dismiss his wounds and insist that they were only "small scratches".

They weren't just "small scratches".

And knowing your husband's tendencies, you found it hard to believe that he had planned to take the reports to the medical center with him instead of continuing his work in his office. Raising an eyebrow, Miguel was prepared for you to question him about it. However, instead of pressing further on the matter, you surprised Miguel by asking, "And have you eaten yet before your mission?"

"Of course I have—" Miguel paused mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that he hadn't eaten anything before the mission. In fact, the only thing preventing him from experiencing gastric pains was likely the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you had made for him that morning. However, at that moment, Miguel also realized the reason you had come to headquarters- he had forgotten to bring the homemade lunch you had packed for him before he left for work.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he caught a glimpse of the lunch box you had brought for him on his desk, along with a small note containing your usual declarations of love for him, which never failed to bring him motivation. He cherished these notes, keeping them secretly tucked away in a special place.

"Mi vida, how long have you been waiting for me?" Guilt began to brew in Miguel's stomach, knowing that you wouldn't mind waiting for him to return from his mission just to catch a glimpse of him for a moment.

You shook your head gently. "I didn't mind waiting," you responded back, avoiding his question. The mission had stretched on for more than three hours, and with it already being around three o'clock in the afternoon, and the fact that you weren't one to delay meals, Miguel knew you had likely been waiting for almost three hours for him as well.

Before Miguel could respond, he felt something trickling down his arm. Looking down, he saw blood seeping from his wound. You quickly rushed to Miguel's side and inspected the injury, a frown forming on your face. "We have to go to the medical center now before it gets infected," you firmly said, taking no arguments from him. "The reports can wait. It won't be the end of the world, amor. Peter and the others will take care of it."

Miguel nodded and gently took the baby car seat from you with his uninjured arm, though you tried to protest, insisting that he was in no condition to carry anything and that you were perfectly capable of carrying baby Benjamin yourself.

As he carried Benjamin, Miguel felt a wave of guilt wash over him for forgetting to bring the homemade lunch you had worked so hard on to work, especially since you were barely getting enough rest lately from taking care of Benjamin who recently began having teething pains and became increasingly restless due to it.

Miguel had done his best to help soothe Benjamin's teething pain whenever he could, even taking a few days off work to care for him alongside you at home. However, he eventually had to return to work, as the Spider Society needed him physically for missions as well. At first, Miguel wanted to hide his injury from you to avoid adding more stress, but he knew you would find out about his wound eventually.

On the way to the medical center, Miguel made sure to be mindful of his steps, not wanting to wake Benjamin up. The last thing either of you needed was for him to wake up, especially since the poor baby was already struggling to sleep due to his teething pain.

When Miguel arrived at the medical center, the spider-healer in charge was slightly surprised to see him, knowing how stubborn he could be and how he sometimes insisted on treating his own wounds. However, it made sense to the healer when you arrived alongside him. The spider-healer pulled aside a chair for Miguel to sit on while they began treating the wound on his arm.

Throughout the treatment, Miguel remained quiet, only grunting slightly as the healer worked. You watched the healer's movements carefully, placing a comforting hand over Miguel's to soothe him. A moment after the healer was finished stitching Miguel's wound up, Benjamin began to cry from the baby car seat, slowly waking up from his slumber.

Miguel's eyes softened as he watched you lift the crying baby from the car seat, cradling him close to your chest. You rocked Benjamin gently back and forth, murmuring soft words of comfort as you rubbed his back soothingly. Benjamin's cries gradually softened, feeling warmth from his mother's embrace.

"Did you have a nightmare, Benji?" You asked the seven month old in a gentle tone, as he lifted his head from your chest, his eyes looking around his surroundings until he stopped at Miguel. With a soft noise, Benjamin leaned towards his father, seeking comfort in his arms.

Miguel's heart swelled with warmth at Benjamin's action, and he carefully accepted him into his arms, mindful of his stitched arm. Despite the caution, you could see Miguel's eyes sparkle with love and adoration as he held Benjamin close.

Miguel chuckled affectionately as Benjamin grabbed a handful of his dark hair with his tiny hands. "Did you miss me, tesoro?" he asked Benjamin, his voice filled with warmth. In response, Benjamin babbled happily, his tiny hands still tightly gripping Miguel's hair.

"I'm sorry for not telling the truth to you, mi amor," Miguel apologized to you sincerely, his voice laced with regret. With Benjamin now distracted by the toys you had brought, Miguel took a moment to express his remorse, gazing into your eyes for forgiveness.

He reached out, gently grasping your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckle in a comforting gesture. "You were already stressed with Benjamin, and I didn't want to worry you any more with my injury," Miguel explained softly.

You sighed, expressing your concerns gently but firmly. "Miggy, I'm always grateful for how hard you work for our family, and I understand how important your role is in the Spider Society. But I sometimes get worried that you're not taking care of yourself properly at work like you used to, especially after what happened today," you frowned, knowing that Miguel's old work habits were hard to shake off.

As you intertwined your fingers with his, you continued, your voice filled with genuine care, "You getting injured worries me a lot, but what worries me more is the way you brush off your injuries and continue pushing yourself as if nothing happened."

Worry was evident in your eyes. "Please promise me that you'll prioritize your health over your work and treat your wounds properly after missions. And if you're struggling to remember to eat and drink, I can come by here everyday and remind you about it. I'm still on maternity leave, remember?" You added with a reassuring smile, showing him how much you care about his health.

He squeezed your hand gently. "I remember, and you're right. I promise to take better care of myself for you and Benjamin," He leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, feeling grateful for your love and care.

Benjamin, ever the adorable child he is, wiggled his way between you and Miguel, continuing to babble joyfully. With chubby fingers, he repeatedly pointed to his cheek, a clear invitation for you and Miguel to leave kisses.

"Do you want a kiss too, Benji?" you cooed, your voice filled with affection and awe at the little boy's action. Without waiting for an answer, you peppered Benjamin with kisses all over his face, earning delighted squeals of laughter from him.

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle, staring at you and Benjamin with a smile, as he was silently thankful for the chance to have his own family again.

[sohnric]

distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised. 

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice. 

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery. 

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink. 

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major  (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer. 

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told. 

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar. 

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment. 

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers. 

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?” 

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration. 

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song. 

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.) 

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs. 

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount. 

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party. 

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment. 

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group. 

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear. 

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself. 

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams. 

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair. 

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time. 

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with. 

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it. 

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek. 

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones. 

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[dianawinchester03]

Behind Bars….Again

Series Masterlist

Summary: Ever since Sam went to college, Dean has been having a hard time. Drinking, gambling, driving recklessly, the works. If it weren't for Y/N covering his ass everytime and bailing him out everytime, he would've been tossed in jail by now. Or worse yet, John and F/N would've dealt with it.

Y/N is 19, Dean is 23, Sam is 19 years old but is away at college)

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

(Ps. I imagine Xander as Drew Van Acker. He played Jason DiLaurentis in Pretty Little Liars)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Lake Preston, South Dakota

•November 2002:

Dean had been arrested and he called the only person he knew he could count on to get him out. After practically demanding his phone call from the officers who were all too familiar with him, he was whispering into the phone pleadingly,

"Y/N, you don't understand, you have to get me out of here!" he whispers into the phone as a police officer looks on suspiciously. Dean just smiles innocently and waits for her answer.

"Fine but you owe me something!" She answers annoyed.

"I swear, I'm gonna kill this asshat one day" Y/N grumbles to herself as she slides on her fuzzy pink bunny slippers and her robe, not bothering to change from her pajamas because right now that was the least of her worries. Sam had run off to college a little over a year ago, meanwhile Dean was taking it especially hard.

She misses her best friend too but Dean has been getting into trouble a lot lately. And it's beginning to worry her.

-

Dean waits patiently in the police station's holding cell, fiddling with a paperclip he somehow managed to find. Every now and then a police officer walks by, eyeing him suspiciously before continuing on their way.

As Dean hears footsteps approaching, he perks up, hoping it's y/n.

-

Y/N creeped down the stairs to see her dad passed out on the couch, half-cradling a bottle of Jack in his lap, the tv still on showing late night informercials.

John went on a hunt alone and F/N stayed back for god knows what reason, she had a feeling it was to keep an eye on her. Which irritated her even more, his breathing down her neck is starting to get to her and she's sick and tired.

You'd think, for someone who was willing to send his 14 year old daughter out on her first hunt with the Winchester boys, he wouldn't be such a pain in the ass. A couple of teenagers taking down a Wendigo on their own? The man is beyond a hypocrite.

Since her dad got plastered the night before, she knew he wouldn't be up until the next evening. So before she left, she made sure to gently take the bottle out of his hands, making sure not to wake him up. Before laying him on his side, she then unfolded the blanket on the single couch and threw it over him.

"Sweet dreams, daddy. Love you" She whispered before laying a gentle kiss on her fathers forehead. He stirred a bit but remained asleep. As much as he fucking annoys her, she loves her old man.

Y/N grabbed her wallet from the kitchen table before lightly creeping out of the kitchen and out the back door. Thankfully, Dean left his Baby at the house before he went out drinking since John gave it to him.

When he went on the hunt, he borrowed her fathers truck. She didn't want to take Quinn in risk of waking f/n up.

-

The Impala drives through town, passing various shops and buildings before coming to a stop in front of the police station. She made sure to pass and pick up a burger, fries and milkshake for Dean, knowing that he was probably starving. The greasy diner food sat in the backseat along with the takeaway-milkshake in the cup holder.

She finally made it to the station, pulling into the lot before putting the car in park.

Y/N pushes open the police station doors and walked inside, her fuzzy bunny slippers making a slight shuffling noise against the linoleum floor. She made her way to the receptionist, flashing her a sweet smile. "Hi, I'm here to bail out a Winchester. Dean Winchester."

The receptionist glances up at her, raising an eyebrow at the fuzzy bunny slippers y/n sported before checking her computer screen. After a moment, she looks back up at her"

"Ah, Mr. Winchester. He's in holding cell three," she says, gesturing towards an aisle of cells behind her. Her eyes landed on Dean who was playing with a paper clip. Deans drunken smile brightened upon seeing her by the receptionist's desk, flashing y/n a cheeky grin and lifts a hand in a wave hello.

"Great, how much for the bail?" She asked, beginning to dig into her purse but her jaw dropped at the response. The receptionist glances at the information on her screen again before replying, "The bail is set at $500." Y/N glares over at Dean before looking back at the receptionist.

She didn't have that kind of cash in her, and she didn't think to take her father's fraud credit card.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Did he kill someone?! 5 hundred bucks???" She exclaims at the preposterous amount. The receptionist shakes her head, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "No, no. It's a bail for public disturbance. Your friend caused quite the scene. And it's not his first time in here."

Dean just shrugs innocently from his cell, feigning innocence. "Hey, it's not my fault they can't handle a little fun." Y/N's rage filled eyes snap over to him, a firm finger pointed in his direction.

"You shut your mouth, Winchester. I'll deal with you later" She grits her teeth at him. Dean holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Can't I have a little bit of fun every now and then?" he grins, clearly enjoying riling her up.

The receptionist watches the exchange with some amusement, raising an eyebrow at her interaction with Dean. Y/N flipped him off, mouthing 'You're dead meat' before turning back to the receptionist with a tight smile. "That still doesn't amount over the fact that it's $500." She crossed her arms over tank-top clap chest before politely asking,

"Can I speak to the arresting officer??" The receptionist nodded, "That would be Officer Thompson" She stated before picking up the phone and dials a number, her eyes drifting to Y/N's bunny slippers again. The name rang a bell in her head. After a moment, she speaks into the phone, explaining that she wanted to talk to the officer who arrested Dean.

"Thompson?" Y/N asks, the receptionist nodded in confirmation before she internally groaned, the one Thompson she knew was Alexander Thompson. Her ex boyfriend from high school when they went to Sioux Falls High in the late 90s before Bobby's falling out with their dads.

They dated for no more than 6 months before parting ways. They surprisingly ended on good terms, however. Both deciding that they wouldn't be able to make it work due to y/n lying and telling him she wanted to go to California to study and Xander wanted to stay in Sioux Falls to join the force right out of high-school.

She assumed he transferred to the Preston Lake department, if it were him.

The truth was the nature of the family business, it pained her to leave but she had to tough it out. In her mind, it's her fault for getting attached to someone. Knowing they they weren't gonna stay there for long.

It also got to her because he was the first person she ever felt a connection with, her first real relationship. They lost their virginities to one another, that's connection no one could come between.

To his knowledge, she's probably back 'home' for Christmas break but that's the furtherest thing from the truth.

"You can go see him in the bullpen, desk 19" The receptionist told her, y/n muttered a low "Thanks", before shuffling her bunny coated feet over to the bullpen. There he was, sat filling out paper work.

Officer Thompson looks up from his paperwork and spots Y/N approaching, a surprised expression on his face. "Hey, y/n/n," he says, setting down his pen. "How can I help you? You wanted to speak with me?" he asks, eyeing her curiously.

Dean, watching from his cell, grumbles something under his breath as he sees Thompson.

"Hey, Xander. I don't mean to yell but $500?!"

Alexander Thompson smiled softly, his heart swelling when she called him "Xander," an old nickname she gave him when they were dating. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I had to set the bail high. Your friend here was making a scene and causing a disturbance. Got into a bar fight, broke a bottle over a man's head. He's gonna need stitches but he'll live. Plus, he resisted arrest," he explains, gesturing to Dean in the cell behind them near the receptionist desk.

"Come on man, you know how he is. And you know I can't afford $500" Y/N says exasperatedly. Thompson rubs his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I know, I know, but protocol is protocol. And your friend hasn't exactly been cooperative."

He glances over at Dean, who is now whistling and twirling the paperclip he was playing with earlier. Y/N's eyes flickered back over to Dean. She groaned at the man child infront of her. "Please, I've never asked you for anything Xander" She pleaded with him.

Thompson sighs heavily, his resolve weakening at the look on Y/N's face.

"You're right, you know how to get to me," he mutters, shaking his head. "But this is a one time thing, got it? I can't let him off easy next time he gets arrested."

"I'm asking you as a friend, and nothing more." She stated him. Thompson rubs his face, considering y/n's plea. He looks over at Dean, who grins widely at her knowingly.

"Fine," he says finally. "I'll lower the bail to $50. But this is a one time deal, understood? And if he gets arrested again, I won't be so lenient." Thompson agrees, but firmly states as he got up from his chair.

"Thank you!" Y/N exclaimed in relief, thanking him gratefully before giving him a hug. "I promise, he won't" She assures him. Thompson is surprised by the hug, initially stiffening before graciously returning it.

He melted into her touch, "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Just make sure he stays out of trouble."

Dean watches the scene from his cell, rolling his eyes.

"I'll see you around" She said sweetly before walking over to the receptionist and handing her the money.

Thompson watches Y/N walked away, a mix of disappointment and lingering affections on his face.

The receptionist takes the money and starts processing the paperwork to release Dean. After a few minutes, she calls out, "You can release Mr. Winchester now."

A police officer unlocks the cell and Dean steps out, a smug grin on his face. "Thanks for bailing me out, princess," he teases.

She narrows her eyes at him before snatching him by his ear and dragging him out of the station. Dean protests loudly as she dragged him by the ear out of the police station, a few officers watching the scene with amused grins.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" he hisses, trying to pry her hand off his ear. "Dammit, ease up on the grip!" She pinched harder before letting go. "You dumbass!" She exclaimed in frustration before smacking his chest.

Dean winces as she pinched his ear even harder before finally letting go. He rubs his chest where y/n slapped him, a pout on his face.

"Alright, alright, I get it! I messed up, alright?" He glances at her fuzzy bunny slippers and grins. "And what's with the slippers? Couldn't leave fuzzy at home" He snorts. "1. Leave fuzzy out of this" She stated firmly, pointing a finger at him while he had a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

"2. Why slap to his chest did slap you slap have slap to slap go slap and slap get slap arrested! slap slap slap" She smacked him with each syllable, he didn't dare protest before he knew this time, he was wrong.

"What the hell is the matter with you, charming?! This is the 4th time! If John and dad knew, they'd have our fucking heads!" Y/N exclaims lowly with a warning tone.

Dean winces with each slap, trying to shield himself with his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey! Stop slapping me!" he protested, trying to keep a straight face. "I didn't mean to get arrested, okay? It just sort of happened..."

He glances at y/n again, taking in her grumpy expression and the fuzzy slippers. "And seriously, the slippers? Don't you have some real shoes?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Dean!"

Dean holds up his hands in surrender, trying to avoid another slap.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten arrested. But seriously, the slippers? They make you look like a bunny."

This earn him another smack but this time across the head.

Dean winces again, rubbing his head where she slapped him. "Ow! Hey, quit hitting me, princess!" he protested, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

He glanced at the fuzzy slippers again, a smirk spreading across his face. "But seriously, those things are ridiculous. You look like a character from a children's cartoon."

"Jesus..." Y/N huffed, rubbing her temples. "Just get in the car" She grumbled. "Fine, fine" he says, a hint of resignation in his tone. "But can you seriously stop hitting me now?"

"Shut up before I hit you again" She quipped up before jumping into the drivers seat of the Impala and starting the ignition. Dean still stood where he was. An amused grin on his face, his hands buried in his pockets.

She was worried about him, she cared deeply. So deeply that she tucked her tail between her legs and pleaded with her ex boyfriend to lower to bail so he didn't have to spend the night in jail and have their dads find out. He appreciated it. He admittingly felt a little jealous when she hugged Xander but he shoved it to the back of his mind.

The honk of the Impala's horn snapped Dean out of his daydream, "GET IN BEFORE I RUN YOUR ASS OVER!" Y/N yelled through the drivers side window.

Dean jumps at the sudden shouting, quickly climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala and buckling his seatbelt. "Alright, alright! I'm in! Damn sweetheart, you don't have to threaten me with violence."

"Oh, just like you did that guy in the bar?" She retorted, referring to his reason for getting hauled in cuffs as she put Baby in reverse. Dean rolls his eyes. "That guy had it coming. He was being an ass," he retorts, wincing as he realizes he's about to get reprimanded.

"And I already said I was sorry about getting arrested. Thank you for bailing me out, princess but I didn't mean to cause such a scene." Dean shrugged, thanking her for her kindness. He knew she'd come get it, also expecting to get reprimanded.

"Yeah well you did. I just had a very awkward conversation with my ex, thanks to you." She grumbled, pulling onto the road. Dean raises an eyebrow at her mention of her ex. "Oh, the cop from before? That Thompson guy, right? I remember you guys dated for a while last year." Dean rolled his eyes, a burning feeling appearing in his chest at the thought of Y/N and Alexander.

"Before you start to mock me, no we're not getting back together" Y/N chimed, knowing how Dean was around her boyfriends. He'd either mock and tease her about them or blatantly dislike them. In this case, it was both when it came to Xander.

Dean smirks at her statement. "Oh really? Then why was he giving you that sad, lovesick puppy look when I walked out? Seemed like there was still something there." He teased, masking the burning feeling with a smirk.

"Shut up" Y/N rolled her eyes, pulling into the freeway, just a couple miles from the house. Dean chuckles, enjoying teasing her. "Oh, come on. You can't fool me. I know a lovesick loser when I see one. And that Thompson guy fit the bill perfectly."

"Speaking from experience?" She retorted back with a smirk. Dean's smirk faltered slightly at her remark. "Hey, hey, hey. That's not fair," he protested, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I'm not lovesick. I just enjoy the ladies, that's all. No strings attached." Dean defended with a shrug.

"Mhhhmmm" Y/N rolled her eyes, keeping it trained on the road as they drove back to the house. Dean leaned back in the passenger seat, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sarcastically, noticing the doubt in her expression. But it was anything but doubt, "You don't believe me?"

"No, I do" She stated before grimacing in disgust, "I just don't wanna imagine it" Y/N gagged, shaking her head. A similar burning feeling appearing in her chest at the thought of Dean with someone else.

"What? Don't wanna hear about my conquests with many ladies?" Dean teased, a wicked smirk painted in his lips at Y/N's clearly disgusted face.

"I will crash this car. Do not test me." She puts her finger up warningly. Dean holds his hands up in surrender, a chuckling. "Alright, alright. Don't bring Baby into this. I'll lay off. No more talk about my conquests. Sorry for ruffling your feathers."

"Good" She huffed, both hands on the wheel as swerved into the left lane, before bending the corner to the dirt road the house was two miles in.

She then remember the food she had for him, "Oh, here I almost forgot" She reached to the backseat, picking up the brown bag with food with her left hand. She handed it to him and when Deans eyes landed on the greased bag, his heart softened. "You- you got me food?"A smile tugged at his lips, "Yeah, I thought you'd be hungry" She shrugged before pointing a finger at him.

"That doesn't mean your off the hook. Now eat. There's a milkshake there for you" She pointed to the cup holder, occupied with her milkshake and his.

Lord, thank you. Dean thinks to himself.

His heart swelled in his chest as he dug into the bag, taking out the burger and unwrapping it. He instantly dove it, but not before offering y/n a bite, which she declined since she had eaten before bed. "You want some fries then?" He asked her with a mouthful of food, "Yeah, sure" She nodded, he then took out one of the fries from the bag and put it out to feed her.

She snorted at the gesture but accepted it graciously with her mouth, she chewed on the salty chip contently as Dean dove back into his burger.

Dean grins drunkenly at this, happy she didn't just snatch it out of his hand and fed herself finding her grumpy demeanor from earlier amusing. "You know, you're cute when you're mad" he teases, reaching over to poke Y/N's cheek lightly.

"Yeah, and you're an idiot when you're drunk, charming" She snorted, gently smacking away his finger that was pressed into her cheek.

Dean feigns hurt, holding his hand to his chest dramatically as he let out an exaggerated gasp.

Y/N rolled her eyes at this, trying to bite back her smile.

"Hey, now you're just insulting me," he protests with a mouthful of food, unable to keep the grin off his face. "I'm not always an idiot when drunk. Just most of the time."

He gives Y/N a cheeky smile before glancing out the window at the passing scenery.

She couldn't help but chuckle at this, "That you are, charming. That you are" She laughed as she pulled up in-front of the house. Putting the car in park, Dean had finally finished his burger and milkshake, tossing the discarded contents in the paper bag.

"Before we go in, I need to talk to you" She stated seriously, turning to him in the drivers seat.

Dean frowns slightly, sensing the seriousness in her tone. "Okay. What's up?" he asks, turning to face Y/N in the passenger seat.

She took a deep breath before beginning. "I know since Sam left for college it's been bugging you. And I get it, I do. I miss him like crazy, but you're getting yourself into trouble. You need to be careful because if our dads find out, we could get in a lot of trouble and that's worse than having the police in our ass" She lectures.

Understanding how much it bothered Dean now that Sam was away at college but also in a warning way that it would not end nicely if John and F/N found out.

Dean grits his teeth, clearly not thrilled about being lectured.

"I can handle myself, princess," he retorts, his defensiveness kicking in. "I don't need you to tell me how to deal with my feelings. I'm a grown ass man, not a child."

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking out the window broodingly.

"Charming..." She sighs exasperated. "I'm not trying to tell you how to deal with your feelings. I'm your friend and I'm gonna be honest, you're saying you're a grown ass man. That you are but you're crossing your arms at me and acting like a child" She points out with brutal honesty.

Dean scowls at her comment but deep down, he knows Y/N's right. He was clearly annoyed at being called out on his behavior. He was acting childish, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"I'm not acting like a child," he protests, even though his body language says otherwise. "I'm just... frustrated, okay? I miss Sam too, and it sucks that he's off at college having a blast while we're stuck here with our dads always on our asses." He grumbles in frustration, shaking his head.

"I get it, sweetie. I do" She says gently, using her pointer finger and thumb to turn his face by his chin to her. "But I'm always here if you wanna talk. It's better to do that then get arrested and in trouble"

Dean huffs, grudgingly meeting her gaze deep down, her words hit a nerve. He knows shes right, but he can't bring himself to admit it. He's too damn stubborn.

"I don't need to talk," he mutters gruffly. "I can handle my own problems. I don't need your help."

Her face hardened, he was being stubborn as always. She didn't want to just give up because he never gave up on her, he always had her back and she always had his along with Sam's. But the man was arrogant, he needed some tough love. And that's what he's gonna get.

"Alright, then how bout. Next time you call me in jail, I'll leave you to rot for the night and let John pick you up.....That is, if he does" She spat angrily, leaving the keys in the ignition before jumping out of the car. Feet padding heavily towards the porch.

She tightened her grip on her robe from the chilly air.

Dean's eyes widened at her words, a mix of anger, disappointment, and disbelief flashing across his face. He was not expecting that reaction. He was used to her usually coddling him and being understanding. But this time it was different.

"Wait, wait, wait!" He called out, scrambling out of the car to follow her. "Hey, come on, princess. You don't mean that!"

She turned to him, arms crossed over her chest. "No, I do. Because that's what you wanted right? Me to leave you alone, here you go!" She grumbled back lowly, fishing her house keys out of her pocket.

Dean's heart sank a bit at her response, realizing he had gone too far this time. He hated it when she was mad at him, especially when he was the one who caused it.

"No, that's not what I meant," he protested, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just... I just don't want to be lectured at, okay? I can handle myself. I'm not some kid you need to look out for."

"I'm your friend, Dean. I'm care about you. We've always had each others backs, what's the issue now?" She says exasperated, a bit hurt but she swallowed it down.

Dean hesitates for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn't want to admit it, but she was right. They had always had each others' backs, no matter what.

"I... I don't know," he mutters, looking down at his shoes. "I guess I just feel lost without Sam here. I miss him, and I've been taking it out on you. I'm sorry, princess." He finally admitted, her heart softened.

"I'll try and do better, I promise" He sighed, his head dropping with shame. "That's all I wanted to hear, charming." She smiled softly, glad her tough love got the truth out of him.

Reaching over to hug him, Dean lets out a small sigh of relief, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As he returned the hug, "Thanks" he says softly, squeezing her tightly whilst caressing her hair. "Sorry for being such a dick tonight. I didn't mean to take out my frustrations on you." He apologized.

"We're family. It ain't supposed to be perfect" She chuckled, her arms around his midsection. Dean chuckles, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as he pulled her closer. He agrees, resting his chin on top of her head as a fond smile crept onto his face. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, pulling away from the hug to look at her. "Family."

"Come on, let's go. It's cold out. Dads passed out on the couch plastered. I'll make you a cup of hot cocoa" She whispered as she opened the door, checking to make sure her father was still passed out.

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Authors Note: This one has been sitting in drafts for the longest time. So why the hell not post it, huh? I've mentioned before but the book isn't really gonna be in order much it's gonna have a few time skips Eg, it'll go from them being kids, to adults, to teens, back to kids etc. But I'll fix it up when it's completed and put it in order you will understand.

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

Lol, hope everyone liked!🫶

Xoxo

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

omg i love ur page. can u do clueless virgin reader stops in the middle of sex w/ nanami bc she thinks she has to pee? (when its actually her orgasm)

(actual writing under the divider)

Aww thank you!. ^_^

So I had actually worked on something that sort of fit this request but for another character, different fandom. Anyway, long story short, I hated that character for this scenario and ended up deleting it. So after some changes and rewriting, lo and behold! Perfect for Nanami!

Nanami masterlist

“That’s it…relax…you’ll definitely enjoy this…”

His words are whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. It’s been a while since you started dating Nanami but you didn’t expect him to have this kind of enthusiasm when you finally admitted you were a virgin. It’s not like you didn’t have chances, but you were just a late bloomer on this front. 

There was a lot of nervousness when you first started dating him. At 21, you felt so young and unsure, being with a man of his age and obvious experience. There were some days you couldn’t believe he was dating you but he was so charming, sweet, and respectful of your boundaries. Your inexperience with sex didn’t seem to bother him, and he never teased you or made you feel pressured to do anything with him. 

And he plainly stated he wasn’t actually having sex with you until you figured out what you enjoyed. So right now, he was on a personal mission to explore your body and give you a safe space to explore your sexuality.

Because you kept closing your knees whenever his hands started wandering a little too high, you’re now sitting between his legs, back against his chest, knees over his, your feet planted on the outer sides of his thighs. This way he could keep your legs open with his when he felt you trying to close off. 

His fingers have found your clit, and he’s gently rubbing it in circles with his middle finger, slick from your arousal dripping from your entrance. 

“How does this feel darling?” 

All you can do is whimper at the sensation that’s building inside you. He chuckles, resting his head on top of yours.

“A fine response. But I need actual words. Now, tell me. Do you like this better-“

He gently increases the pressure of the circles he’s making.

“Or this?”

His thumb and middle fingers come together to gently pinch the hardened bud, rolling it in between, and your whimper becomes a strangled shriek as you try to close your legs, held firmly apart by his thighs. 

“Too much,” you whimper. “Too hard. Too sensitive.”

“Ssh. It’s ok. Thank you for telling me.” His entire hand lays flat on your slit, calming your nerves, using all his fingers to resume the gentle circle strokes again.

“Better?”

“Y-yeah…so much…” Those little circles are making you crazy, but it’s the way he’s doing it. So much patience, no rush to get to the main event, just focusing on your comfort. 

“Hm…let’s see how you’re doing inside…”

His thumb takes over the circling motions as his middle finger slips down and gently flirts with the wetness at your core. You’re wholly unprepared as the tip of his finger gently pushes in, making you take in a sharp breath. He pauses, and gently speaks in your ear.

“Relax. Take a breath. It’ll make it easier for what I have planned. I promise it won’t hurt.”

You take in a deep breath and let it out, surprised when you feel the muscles down there release naturally, aided by the stimulation on your clit. His finger pushes in further, curling as it enters, and you marvel at the feeling of it stretching you out. His fingers were so long and thick, and you moan softly at the pressure. A dexterous fingertip makes come hither motions on your inner wall and find that little patch inside you that makes your walls squeeze on his finger with pleasure. He continues to angle his finger that way until your moans fill the room.

“That’s it lovely…keep going…we’ll get you there…” he plants kisses on your neck and shoulder, his free hand coming up to cup your breast, twisting your hardened nipple. All the stimulation causes your hips to buck, mewling at the feeling. You’re helpless to stop it, when you try to struggle, Nanami parts his legs farther, taking yours with him. The exposure and vulnerability adds to your arousal. Your core is dripping, the slickness coating his finger and dripping down to his wrist. 

“Do you think you can take another one?” His hot breath is on your ear. He can’t believe how sexy you look like this, falling apart in his hands, mouth open and making such lewd noises of pleasure. With the remaining brain cells you have you nod, your dripping core begging for a little more. 

Nanami is gentle with his finger as he inserts another one, amazed at how smoothly it goes in, your hole leaking slick as he does so. He feels his cock harden in his pants, straining against the fabric, and he grits his teeth. Someday he tells himself. Not before you’re done learning about your body.

As he continues, your belly fills with heat, energy gathering tightly in your thighs and core. Despite how good his movements feel, you suddenly sense pressure in your abdomen. Your brain jerks you away from the pleasure of his fingers, making you panic slightly.

“Nanami.” You urgently tap his knee to catch his attention. Hearing the tone in your voice, he stops. 

“Everything ok?” His voice is deep, laced with concern. You feel your face burn with embarrassment.

“I…I think I need to pee.” You say in a small voice. God, why couldn’t the floor open up and swallow you whole? 

He hasn’t removed his fingers and chuckles softly. “No you don’t.”

You can’t believe the confidence that he said that with. It was so out of character for him to not listen to you. “No, trust me I do. I feel the pressure in my belly.”

There’s a pause before he softly asks, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Oh God why! Blood rushes to your face as you try to not stutter. The honest answer was no, you hadn’t, for various reasons. “No.” you mumble the word, thankful he can’t see your face. “Does it matter?”

“Ah. I see.” He resumes his ministrations on you. Your whole body was unprepared for him to start up again so suddenly and your body almost arches off the mattress. 

“But Nanami…”

“Trust me…and my experience here y/n…” he says to you gently. Need takes over as he picks up his movements, driving the intrusive thought out of your head. He said to trust him…What did he know that you didn’t? 

As your abdominal muscles clench, winding down tightly like a spring, that feeling of pressure coming back but instead you take a deep breath and then…

Your pleasure peaks and your fist the bedsheets, toes curling into the mattress as spasm after spasm rocks you, sobbing his name. His fingers don’t stop, gently pushing you through your orgasm, making sure you feel every last dreg of pleasure before the high starts to fade. 

“Oohh…” You sigh out breathily, in realization. 

Nanami chuckles with satisfaction near your head. 

“Welcome to your first orgasm my dear.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[yourmidnightlover]

good vibrations

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: you love been pent up for weeks now and just needed a quick release when you get interrupted by your best friend…

warnings: !not proofread! vibrators used (hahaha get it? the title), kinda simpy/puppy-esc xavier, unprotected piv, kinda bossy reader?

a/n: this is kind of a shortie, but it was in my head. i might revisit the idea and rewrite it much better, but we shall see. double post tonight… isn’t it wild??? anyways, enjoy, my loves <3

you knew xavier would be coming by soon to go with you to jericho for a late night outing. you just couldn’t help yourself.

you hadn’t been able to get yourself off for three weeks due to exams and everything going on. it didn’t help that your best friend, who you loved, always wanted to hang out. and you loved hanging out with him too! just not when you were horny as hell and absolutely had to get yourself off soon or you would explode.

at this point nothing would stop you from pulling out your vibrator and turning it on the lowest setting to get yourself worked up. god, the way it feels against your clit is perfect, even more so as you turn it up a level... again, and again until it's at its highest setting.

but it was still extremely hard to explain as he barged into your dorm, "you ready to go..." his eyes were trained on your vibrator positioned right between your legs, focused on that sensitive little nub that's been aching for days. you really weren't sure how he hadn't heard the vibrator from outside, it was on the highest setting. "yet?" his voice rose nearly three octaves as he spoke.

"i..." you had already switched the vibrator off before you froze for a second. you noticed him swiftly turning around, mumbling apologies as you covered yourself with your blanket, throwing your head back with a groan. "gahhh!" you practically growled. "I JUST WANT TO CUM, XAVIER!"

"ohhh my god," he swiftly switched back to reality as he began to walk towards the door.

"wait..." you told him as his hand was on the doorknob. "look, i'm sorry. i've just been a bit... frustrated and pent up the past few weeks. I figured i would take care of it before we went out because i really thought i was going to explode... anyway, i'm sorry."

"you-you don't have any reason to be," he shook his head as he turned towards you. "i mean it's natural for that to... y'know, yea. i mean i do it too, so i definitely know the feeling of needing that... release."

"exactly!" you sighed, glad that he wasn't repulsed by your actions... some people were weird about female masturbation. "do..." your mind began to wander. "do you feel that need right now?"

"y/n, i..." he ran his hand through his hir before taking a seat at your desk. "you don't know what you're even saying."

"then let me rephrase," you tossed your sheets off of your body, exposing your bare chest and body to him once more, "you can sit at the desk and watch me finish and then we'll go to jericho, or, we could help each other out with our frustrations?" you glanced down at his crotch, primarily the impressive bulge that only continued to grow.

"i-uh," you could see his chest beating harder as he eyed your pussy. "would-would that even be aright? like.. would that be alright with you?"

"do you know how long i've wanted this?" you sat up on the bed, your legs bent and wide open. "do you know what i was thinking about?" he shook his head 'no.' "i was thinking about your long fingers. about how long they are, how deep they would get inside me. god, i thought about you underneath me. how bad i want to sit on your hard dick and hear your moans."

"y/n," his breathing became audible as you now rose to your knees, reaching out to him as he approached you. you grasped his shirt's collar. "i really want you."

"thank fuck," you sighed as you let one hand cup the side of his neck, keeping eye contact as you leaned in until his lips finally touched yours.

his hands immediately went to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks. he seemed hungry, starving even, for your touch. he began to roll his hips into yours before you used your own to roll him over on the bed, you hovering atop him.

"i think i'm gonna explode," his voice came out as a whimper, a beg for you to do something. "you're so perfect. always been perfect to me," your lips were attacking his neck, your hands working at his pants. "god, this must be a dream," his hands were roaming in your hair. "if it is a dream then i don't wanna wake up. not ever."

"xavier?"

"mhmm," your eyes finally met his with a kind but eager smile.

"help me get your pants off," you urged him, not even realizing that you had began to grind down on his legs. "now."

"mhmm-yea... yes," he lifted his hips for you so you could pull the elastic band down easier.

when you saw his dick spring up against his stomach the only word that came to your mind were: "holy fuck."

"wh-what is it?" he was now wearing a worried expression as if something had gone wrong, or he was disappointing in any way.

you grabbed his cock that was already leaking precum and began to lazily stroke it, "it's perfect, xay," you pressed one more kiss to his mouth before lining him up with your center. "so fucking perfect," you dragged your pussy up and down his dick as you asked, "condom? i'm clean and on birth control and i just… i just really need this."

"no, just... just do it," he nodded eagerly as his hands wandered over your body, grabbing at your breasts and hips. "please, y/n?"

you waited no longer, letting your pussy glide over his shaft, encompassing it in your own warmth. his mouth opened wide, small whimpers leaving his mouth before he clamped it shut, now biting down on his lip.

"god, it's so good," you let the thought that's been in your mind the past ten minutes of making out, the tension getting to you. "so good for me, xay," one hand was raking through his hair, gently tugging at the strands as the other was on his chest, used to keep yourself propped up.

"this really is heaven," he sighed as he threw his head back. "please don't stop," his hand went to the side of the bed, grabbing your vibrator before connecting it to your clit.

"holy fuck, that's so amazing, xavier," your body began to get out of rhythm, your hips staggering with every move you made.

"i've had dreams of this," he began to let his hips thrust up and down to meet your own. "god, i can feel the vibrating through your pussy. i've dreamed of this every way possible," he held onto you as your upper body collapsed on his chest, now letting his hips to all the work.

"i'm gonna-fuck," your arms were only tightening their hold around his neck. "i'm cumming, oh fuck-i'm cumming! don't stop, xavier, oh god!" you turned your face into his neck as your moans persisted.

"you feel so good, holy shit," his hips began to stutter as he fucked you through your high, bringing him to his own release. "where-fuck-where do you want it?"

"inside," you grasped tighly onto his hair, gently tugging on the roots. "need it inside."

"fuck," his hips stuttered once more as he filled your insides with his cum, letting a few more strokes fuck it all inside you.

you had a dazed smile plastered on your face when you muttered, “we’ve gotta do that more.”

[yyawnjun]

hello! hehe can i req how piwon would act with s/o who have lower body temperature on average? like wydm you're shivering... it's autumn. tqvm babe!!!! 😆

PIWON with a s/o who has lower body temperature on average

AYY!! first piwon ask, it felt so special, tysm for requesting it. I hope I get it right, like his s/o is actually" feel the cold"(tell me if I didn't get it, I will change and rewrite). I hope you will like it <3 ; I also wrote hcs for the first timee, how are we feeling !!

fluff ; @sobun1est MY FAAAVVV PROOFREADER even during my phone cb </3 ; 1.7k wc ; @kflixnet

YOON KEEHO

☆ i feel he'd be confused at first, like wdym you mentioned that you needed to take your jacket when your going out during a SUMMER night for your date.

☆ if there would have been a little breeze, it should not have been THAT cold. anyway he remembered what you said, and when you were about to leave your place to go out for dinner he noticed that you didn't take your jacket.

☆ he was about to remind you, but he saw first HIS jacket lying on the sofa. so he opted to bring it…so you'd be forced to wear his

☆ even though you had warned him that you were more sensitive to the cold than the others bc of your low body temperature, he was still shocked when he noticed that you were starting to feel cold while you were walking near the sea.

☆ he was holding your hand and he noticed it getting colder, and you were shivering while looking for your coat.

☆ “were you looking for this” he'd say in the most cheesy tone ever while handing you his jacket

☆ you'd be confused at first bc you were searching YOURS.

☆ but then you'd accept it after realizing the sweet gesture, and he just laughs a bit, trying to be cool but internally feeling so proud while seeing you with his jacket!!!!

☆ I feel this would happen so many times that you'd just start always using his jackets instead of yours. they still smelled like him and reminded you of him, plus his style is fire; a total win for you (and for him)

☆ I also think that you'd have to remind him a few times about your low body temperature, and even so, he'd have trouble remembering, but it would become like a tradition for him to ALWAYS bring an extra jacket to give you 😭😭.

CHOI TAEYANG

☆ here me out. third date with theo, and you're sitting on a bench in a park. It's like late evening on an autumn day, so it was a bit colder than usual and a light wind was moving the leaves.

☆ while he was talking, you'd start shaking a bit, trying to keep it cool for as much as you can while doing your best to not look too mesmerized by the big jacket he was wearing.

☆ he had immediately noticed that your outfit was too light for the evening (but in your defense, it was too cute to be covered up!) but he hadn't said anything (except how pretty you looked)

☆ he would notice how cold you were, but he would also be quite cold because of the weather.... so in the first few minutes, he would be torn between offering you his jacket or not (you did not dare to ask him for it…)

☆ BUT IN THE END OFC HE GAVE IT TO YOU, without saying anything…just in time for you to not catch a cold.

☆(he would then feel guilty for doing it so late when you explained to him that bc of your lower temperature, you felt much more the cold,,)

☆ he would scold you a little because you were dressed too lightly!!!. and you needed to take care of yourself (otherwise, how could you have gone out on dates again!).

☆ but I promise he'd BLUSH so hard after hearing that you cared so much about your outfit for him that you choose it over your own good😭😭

☆ in the end, I also feel that it would be you two sharing his jacket on the bench (on one hand bc he wanted to be closer to you, on the other bc you needed more warmth!)

☆ and he was getting cold too, but he'd never admit it </3.

☆ it would be just the two of you, sharing the same jacket as a comforting warmth spread.

HWANG INTAK

☆ I feel intak would be the exact opposite of you

☆ he'd be like a warm heater all of the time. I think that just being around him would warm you up.

☆ and oh boy, how much he'd use this excuse to stay closer to you.

☆ “we need to sit next to each other! bc what if you start getting colder and we are far away” - cit intak after moving his chair next to yours in a romantic restaurant just bc he wanted to eat next to you.

☆ he'd be your personal giant hotpack 24/7, and when he isn't w you, he'd give you some of his hot packs/hoodies to use in case you needed

☆ how much he'd brag about your different "perception” of temperature. he would use this excuse to grab your hand ALWAYS, no matter if you were actually shivering or not

☆ like imagine you're mad at him, and hes just like a super sweet golden retriever that came closer to you and take your hand

☆ “otherwise you would be cold” he whispers while not looking at you.

☆ and HOW can you stay mad at him, while his hand is warming up yours and you two are walking together..and your gazes keep meeting..

☆ or imagine sharing a blanket with him during a cold winter; while watching TV you'd have not only the warmth from the cozy blanket but also from the heat of your boy!!

☆ (And I picture him wearing only a light shirt and short pants while being a heater for you without even noticing but LOVING the closeness to you).

CHOI JIUNG

☆ I feel he'd be the most WORRIED and so the most caring between all of them <3

☆ not only hotpack, but also scarfs, jackets, hats, etc. his backpack would always be so full of things to keep you warm anytime😭

☆ I can see him even find out about the “causes” and what he could do to help you in all situations; esp at first he'd keep asking how you wereand if you needed something

☆ imagine being at a party with jiung, maybe you were there with your friends now sitting somewhere while laughing and drinking

☆ and you suddenly feel something or someone putting his arms around your shoulders and his head on yours.

☆ “your face is cold” he said after kissing your cheeks. “wanna go home?” he'd ask you. and after you asked for five more minutes he'd RUN to bring you his jacket <3

☆ and the way he'd giggle and smile when he sees how helpful he is everytime.

☆ this boy would ended up forgetting to bring his own things to always have yours, and you'd force him to wear your sweaters

☆ and now you'd be the one giggling and smiling for his new style. <3

HAKU SHOTA

☆ silently helping you ALWAYS. I imagine it while you were waiting for the bus to come and you'd start shaking a little, maybe complaining out loud how cold the weather was getting

☆ the boy wouldn't wait a sec before taking you by the hand and bringing you to the nearest coffee shop. hot chocolate? hot tea? yes. you'd have that in front of you before you could even REALIZE where you were.

☆ “put some sugar, it will help to your temperature to come back to normal”

☆ I feel that in some magic way he'd already known that you were getting too cold outside. and no matter how important it was to take that bus, your health was more important anyway.

☆ and i feel he would start memorizing some coffee places to bring you in case you were out and you were feeling cold all of sudden.

☆ i am so sure he'd always have hot packs with the funniest decorations for you

☆ and he'd always remind you to bring your coats, you two would even have like one specific emoji and you'd just remember to bring it

☆ “we should hold hands, so mines can warm yours” he'd say naturally while taking your hand (and blushing a lot but w/o adding anything or looking at you)

☆ so you two would just start walking hand in hand, saying that it was for your own good!(And you and you have never denied this…)

KIM JONGSEOB

☆ I feel he'd find it funny how you were always cold while it was so hot outside. he’d tease you at first, "c’mon it's autumn and you are already so cold..this winter might be the end of you"

☆ but as soon as you'd take five minutes to explain him how the affects you the fact that have lower body temperature on average he'd feel bad for joking about it and he'd start taking you more seriously 😭

☆ still, it would take him a while to get used to it. and there would have been times when you two would be forced to run a bit bc you were starting to be really cold. and he had no other options other than “run a little to warm up”

☆ i can't stop picturing seob and his s/o while walking together during an early morning(maybe going to school together!!) and by chance seeing a cat on the street.

☆ you would immediately get closer to the cat and seob would follow. you two would slowly try to get closer to pet the cat and you'd magically succeed!! you two would start petting the cat and he would feel how cold your hands were.

☆ “yn are you cold?” he says while gently stocking your hands.

☆ and one slight nod was enough for him to take your hands and try to use his to warm you up. he would take your hands and caress them, while bringing them closer to his face to give you hot air and warm them up.

☆ and if this isn't enough he'd have the perfect idea after remembering how cats were able to warm themselves thanks to their fur.

☆ and now there is two options for how it goes

☆ OPTION ONE: he manages to take the cat and gently put it on your legs. so now you just sit with him next to you, while the warm of the cat would warm u up too <3

☆ OPTION TWO: you two would ended up running after that poor cat, and you would inevitability warm up bc of the run (run method never fails)😭

[prodshima]

love language scenarios 𖤐

warnings: i wrote this a couple months ago and i just realized that it doesn’t really fit their languages but i’m too caught up to rewrite the whole thing :(

pinned: just cute scenarios of 2 of my baby boys that’ll hopefully get me out of writer’s block :) also, is haikyuu tumblr still alive? lol :p

click here for: part two

ATSUMU MIYA - physical touch.

“baby, where are you? i’m home” atsumu drowsily calls out from the front door, kicking his feet out of his shoes before hastily hanging his coat on the rack when he hears you call out his name

with fast strides, atsumu rushes to the bedroom and shoves the door open, his heart immediately melting at the sight of you all cozy in his shirt. you look so cute and he just can’t help but jump on you to bury himself in your warmth (which he’d been looking forward to since he left for work at 7 in the morning) —oh how he missed you so so much.

“hi there my baby, how was work?” you ask him as you run your fingers through his hair gently, untying the knots in the process before bursting into muffled giggles when he lets out a groan

“ ‘s okay but i missed ya” atsumu whispers and glares at you teasingly when you tell him that the both of you just spent the whole weekend together, he knows it’s true but he doesn’t care.

as a comfortable silence envelopes the bedroom, atsumu peppers feathery kisses on your jaw, soft sighs leaving his lips when your gentle hands stroke his cheek in circles, suddenly feeling overwhelmed after facing a lifeless computer for almost 16 hours

“wanna have dinner, tsum?” you ask him after a few minutes of silence, suddenly remembering that you prepared a small meal for him to eat because you figured he hasn’t eaten yet

but you’re weirded out when silence envelops the room so you look down and there welcomes you your boyfriend lying on your chest who’ve never looked so fragile with his head resting on your chest, his legs tangled with yours, and his arms wrapped around your waist

“i love you so much, tsum” you whisper as you feel your own eyes closing as well, the both of you left to enjoy each other’s warmth, finally letting the night past.

TSUKISHIMA KEI - quality time.

for someone like tsukishima kei who’s used to always spending his free time studying before he came across you, he cherishes every moment the both of you spend together because he knows he’s not good with his words— whether it’s spent on little dates, staying at his dorm and snuggling while watching cliché movies, or even just listening to music together, it’s a thing he’ll never admit it though.

“tsukki, wanna walk me home?“

tsukishima turns around to you batting your eyelashes in attempt to “lure” him to walk home with you— he thinks it’s kind of stupid though because you know he’ll do even if you don’t ask him to, he’d never make you walk home alone this late in the afternoon especially knowing that you’re tired from all the lessons you had to take in 

and of course also due to your hectic schedules kicking your asses these past few weeks as finals come to a close, the both of you don’t see each other much in campus except during lunch breaks

“of course i have to, i don’t trust you enough to walk alone” tsukishima says with a fake sigh as he looks forwards, avoiding your eyes, but you decide not to tease him any further about how he just won’t admit that he wants to be with you just a little longer but instead, enjoying this side of him

as the both of you walk together silently with his earphones shared, listening to the playlist he made for you, well that he denied making, his hand suddenly grabs yours hastily, but still somewhat gentle and buries it in the pocket of his hoodie, catching you by surprise and pulling you closer to his side

you can’t help but smile at him sheepishly, that of course goes unnoticed by the tall man, judging, he looks at you with an eyebrow raised all while trying to keep his own unfazed aura because he knows exactly what’s running on your mind

“what are you looking at? hurry up, we still need to study when we get home” he scoffs softly, attempting to remove your hand from his but you don’t budge, gripping his hand tightly as you gaze at him in surprise

“huh?! are you staying with me today? you’re not going back to your dorm, tsukki? tsukki? tsukki !” you whine, swaying your hands together as he grins widely, turning around to leave a quick peck on your lips and pinching your cheeks together

“yeah, i am so get used to it because i’ll be doing it a lot more”, he admits and you tug his arm lightly, smacking him as you repeatedly ask what he meant by that

this is perfect, he thinks.

yeah it is.

© all works belong to @prodshima — don’t plagiarize, copy, modify, or claim my works as your own.

[suniix]

04 | miyamura x reader

synopsis | hori talks to miyamura and realizes where she stands. you can’t help but feel guilty because of a promise made long ago.

word count | 2k+

note | i don’t plan on making hori ‘the bad guy’ or have her bully the reader. yes she will be a little upset because miyamura doesn’t like her back but she won’t do anything to the reader. that trope (or wtv it’s called) is way too overused and i don’t like it 🧍‍♀️also i hate this chapter and i can’t wait to finish this series so i can rewrite and edit everything

previous | mlist | next

A week has passed since the first day of school and things are going smoother than you had initially expected.

Miyamura’s friends had adopted you into their group, though you felt closer to him than to anyone else. Even though they always included you, it felt as if there was a barrier between you and them. During lunch or group projects their conversations would flow naturally, so you’d never say a word unless someone spoke to you first, afraid that you’d make the conversation awkward. Usually it was Miyamura or Tooru who brought you into conversations.

It was to be expected though, it’s the last year of high school; friend groups had already been made and joining any would be a struggle. You were thankful for an easy way into a friend group and were prepared to face all the challenges thrown your way.

Things at home were going well too. You could definitely tell your grandma was happy to have company around the house and you were happy to be with her. You were especially happy about her cooking. Your parents never had time to cook or show you how to so you just stuck with eating out everyday. You also bought some decorations for your new room, which made you feel more comfortable.

As you slipped your shoes on you waved to your grandma goodbye and she reciprocated the action. “Have a good day at school dear.” She smiled.

You thanked her and stepped out of your home. Walking to and from school everyday has made you become familiar with the neighborhood. The first couple of times you almost got lost, but luckily you would find other students with the same uniform and you’d just follow them to school.

As soon as the school came into view your stomach growled. Shit.. I forgot to grab something for breakfast.. you patted your pocket and felt your wallet. Sighing in relief you pull it out and open it, seeing you had enough money to buy something.

Instead of walking straight into the school you take a turn for the school’s cafeteria, praying they were open. As you walked you enjoyed the school’s scenery. Despite being here for a week you haven’t gotten a chance to explore everywhere. Tooru only showed you your classroom and the school cafeteria.

As the doors to the cafeteria came up you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing an oval sign hanging from the door with big letters that read ‘open’. You pulled the door open and walked in, feeling cold air hit your cheeks.

The first thing you see is a familiar brown haired girl wearing a gray sweater with her back turned to you; it seemed like she didn’t hear you come in. You didn’t see anyone at the counter, but a vending machine was nearby. Browsing through the limited options you insert your money and press the buttons. Your snack falls and you fish it out from the bottom and slowly walk over to the girl.

“Hori?”

The girl turned to look at you and your suspicions were confirmed. Hori looks at you with mild surprise. “Oh! I didn’t expect to see you here so early.” She motions for you to sit in front of her and you do.

“Hey Hori! And yea, I keep forgetting to change my clock’s batteries so I wake up thinking I’m late but it’s actually super early. I can’t go back to sleep so might as well just head to school.”

Hori nods in understanding and takes a sip of her drink. She is sorta forgetful.. Hori notes.

An awkward silence calls upon the two of you. She awkwardly continues to drink her beverage while you eat your snack. Although you and Hori were part of the same group you never directly interacted with each other.

“So.. you and Miyamura know each other?”

“Mm?” You looked at her confused.

“Even though you just got here, you and Miyamura seem really close. Did you go to the same middle school?” She asks.

You notice how she avoids eye contact and slightly tightens her grip on her drink. Is she jealous?.. You ask yourself. That would explain her odd behavior around you.

“Not really. I ran into him the first day I moved here and he’s my neighbor, so I guess—”

“Wait! You guys are neighbors?” She slammed her drink down in surprise and you slightly jumped, startled by her random outburst.

“Yea? He lives in the apartment complex next to my grandma’s house.”

She hums and brings her drink back up to her lips, continuing to avoid eye contact. Shit, are they together? Does she think I’m trying to get in between them?.. You begin to slightly panic. You didn’t want to start any drama, you had barely been at this school for a week! Miyamura never mentioned anything about being in a relationship, at least nothing you can remember, and you never saw him acting lovey dovey with Hori.

“I’m sorry, are you and Miyamura in a relationship?” You ask timidly.

“What? No.. why are you asking?” She eyed you suspiciously.

“Ah, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to take him from you. We only seem close because he was the first person I talked to, so I guess I just feel closer to him because of that.”

“Ah, I see.”

After that conversation the air seemed a little lighter. Hori no longer seemed as tense as she was before, but instead lost in thought. The two of you sat in a calm silence until the bell rang.

Hori stared at the sky while leaning on the balcony railing outside the classroom. Her thoughts take her back earlier to the conversation she had with you. Although you told her you didn’t know Miyamura that well, she felt there was something going on between the two of you, whether or not you were aware of it. She had questions, but she wasn’t sure you were the right person to ask. The door opened behind her, but she didn’t turn to look, already knowing who joined her outside.

“Are you feeling okay Hori?” Miyamura asked, walking up beside her.

He had noticed she seemed lost in thought all day, something had to be bugging her. He knew about her busy life outside of school, but normally she wouldn’t be this out of it.

“Do you like (Y/n)?”

Miyamura nearly choked on his spit at the sudden question, quickly turning to look at Hori. “Where did this come from?”

“I just feel like.. there’s something going on between the two of you.”

“Nothing is going on between us. It’s just that.. they’re someone that I used to know, someone I cared a lot for.”

Hori turns to look at him, slightly surprised. Although she suspected it she never thought he’d say it out loud. Hearing it made it feel real, like there was really a chance she’d lose him.

“It’s a long story, but.. when I was little, (Y/n) was the first person to walk up to me and become my friend. Then one day they told me their family was moving, but they made a promise to find me again. I doubt they remember me or the promise, but the fact they came back.. it feels nice.”

The look on Miyamura’s face was something she rarely saw. He seemed genuinely happy, hopeful even. The only time she saw him this happy was when they were together, alone. Now he has the exact same expression while talking about you and you’re not even here.

Hori turned away. “Why don’t you tell them?” She doesn’t know why she asked. Maybe she was curious, or maybe she still had hope he was moving on from you.

Miyamura shook his head, “I don’t want to pressure them into anything. If something happens, I want it to happen naturally and not just because they feel the need to fulfill a promise they made years ago.”

He turned to look over his shoulder, spotting you and Tooru laughing about something. Hori followed his stare and tried not to show how disappointed she was. She wasn’t disappointed at either of you, moreso the situation. You two had history, history that left such an impact on Miyamura he waited for years for a chance to see you again.

She could never compete with that.

“Alright, you have to finish the report as a group by the end of class, so start moving!”

Shit! Group work this early in the year? You quickly look around the room to see everyone partnering up with their friends. How well do I know Miyamura’s friends? Would it be weird if I just joined their group? They wouldn’t mind.. right?

A gentle tap on the shoulder broke you out of your thoughts. Turning to your left you see Miyamura smiling at you. “Can I be in your group?” He asks while holding back a laugh, though you don’t understand what’s so funny.

“Sure.” You smile.

The smile on Miyamura’s face remains as he brings his desk up to yours and soon the rest follow without any questions.

“Lend me a pen, Yoshikawa! You don’t need so many pens.”

“Don’t you dare take any of my pens!”

“Did anyone bring the material collections?” Hori asked, sighing when she noticed no one had them.

You watched the group work together while occasionally bickering about random things. Hori assigned everyone a part of the report while also keeping Yoshikawa and Tooru from fighting about pens.

While working you couldn’t help but bask in the atmosphere the group brought. It wasn’t suffocating and there wasn’t a need to keep the conversation going. The conversations they had were short and sweet and didn’t have you overthinking with what to respond with. You let go of your thoughts and let yourself get carried away in the light conversations, enjoying the laughter of the group.

After everything was complete Hori gathered everyone’s part of the report and stapled it together before handing it to the teacher. The five of you relaxed together, mindlessly talking about the newest trends and any new music.

You barely said a word, happy with just watching the group enjoy each other. As you watched the group laugh cheerfully you didn’t notice Miyamura had his eyes on you the whole time.

The end of the day came sooner than you expected.

The group assignment left you feeling a little more connected to the group. Your fears were proven untrue, the group had wordlessly included you in the group project and no conversations turned awkward after you spoke.

By the time you left school the sky was beginning to turn a slight orange. Miyamura walked by your side as the two of you walked towards his bakery, something he had begun to do occasionally after school. Oftentimes it was when he promised to bake you something.

You stare out the window of the bakery, watching as a group of middle schoolers walk past, laughing with each other. You’re lost in thought, not noticing Miyamura had taken a seat in front of you.

“What’s up?”

“What?” You turn away from the window to see Miyamura has his full attention on you.

“You look like you have something on your mind. Did something happen earlier?” He asks.

“Oh, no not really. It’s just that..” You hesitate, trying to figure out how to formulate your words.

Miyamura says nothing, waiting for you to collect yourself. The whole time his eyes are on you, a gentle smile on his lips. You can’t help but feel at ease around him.

“When I was little, there was this boy. I heard from other kids that he was a loner, so I befriended him. Not long after though I had to move and leave him behind. Every time I hang out with you guys I feel guilty, like I don’t deserve to be happy after I left him alone, you know?” You stare down at the table and fiddle with your fingers. You know Miyamura would disagree with you, but you were still scared.

Miyamura hums, processing what you just said. Part of him was happy, you remembered him! Well, you partially remembered him. If you truly remembered him you would’ve known he was that boy you befriended. Had he really changed so much to the point you didn’t recognize him?

The other part of him felt guilty. He didn’t want you to feel bad for leaving him behind, it wasn’t your fault. The past is in the past and you’re here now in the present with him. You found your way back to him and that’s all that matters.

“I don’t think he’d mind.”

You stop fidgeting with your fingers and look up at him. His eyes are still on you, unwavering. You knew he was right, but hearing him actually say it made you feel better.

“I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to make friends, and I’m sure that by now he’s found his own group of friends, so don’t feel guilty.”

His smile was contagious. You turned to look out the window and see the group of middle schoolers was long gone.

“Yea, I guess you’re right.”

thank you for reading till the end! :D

taglist | @swtstrwbrri @aizawa-hatake @nagiswifey1

[princesssmars]

plsssss do something for michael munroe im so starved

i could change your mind

some college football player mike headcanons.

contains: fluff. some nsfw. american football gross. mike is cocky whats new. fem!reader. hair nor skin color described.

a/n: anon i lowkey miss him too so i'll do a few headcanons for you anon. sorry that my until dawn rewrite is like on hiatus I just feel like it's gonna be such a flop so my brain says it cant be bad if I don't write it ??? idk. ty for making me do this. set in college but i've decided to start a year late so if i get shit wrong sorry scholars. (heart fingers emoji I'm on desktop fml.)

idk why but the first thing that popped into my head was him loving a sport...like he gives smart but also dumbass jock to me we let's go with he did football in high school and he's at college on a scholarship.

if you're like me you don't give two shits about the sport you probably would not like twice in a football player's way, which he definitely sees as a challenge. he'll come up to you in the dining hall and try to hit on you in front of his jock friends, spouting a "whatever you say, sweetheart" when you reject him with a grimace.

to your surprise and horror he's in one of your advanced classes in your second semester, sitting with his feet up next to your seat with a smile when you walk in. you do call him troglodyte for having his shoes on the table but he says with an easy smile that he's in with the teacher who said it was alright.

great.

for the first three weeks, you try to ignore his questions and poking at all costs, but when you get paired up on an important assignment you decide to hold your disdain on pause. he invites you to "study in his dorm" which nearly gives you a migraine, until he chuckles and tells you he's joking, telling you you can meet at common ground and study in the library.

you hold your tongue instead of giving a quip about how he probably won't be able to keep his mouth shut, but once you actually get there you realize the worst thing ever: mike munroe isn't a moron. he's actually pretty smart, maybe nearly as smart as you, and shows pretty good leadership with how he takes in both your academic strengths and divides the workload based on them. its not hard to see why he's the quarterback.

after you get an a+ on your project, you start to warm up to mike. his stupid quips in class start to actually become funny, leading to numerous moments where he makes you snort in class and the professor rolls his eyes.

your friendship soon grows enough that mike has the confidence to invite you to one of his games while you're walking around campus, and if you start to say no he informs you that he will not hesitate to get on his knees and beg in front of everyone. that makes you feel a little weird so you groan and tell him fine.

the whole time you don't really know what's going on, even though ten minutes before he had to get ready he tried to cram all of the rules into your head. even though you don't know everything you can tell when something good happens, like when he makes the touchdown that wins your school the game. he celebrates with his team members and his crowd of fangirls before coming over to you, clearly waiting for you to say football is fun or something,

you don't. but the after-party definitely was. you don't know what that frat guy put in the punch but it was good, and had you nearly drunk in only two hours. nearly being a keyword, because someone who was past the point decided to do a childish game of seven minutes, and you decided to play along for fun.

but it wasn't so funny when they spun the bottle and it landed on you, then the next turn between two people to point towards the couch where mike was watching with his friends. they both burst out laughing at the horrified look on your face as you reluctantly follow him inside the closet.

for the first minute it's quiet, soft noises from the two of you adjusting your bodies in the quiet space and "sorry"'s when you bump into the other.

he takes your silence for uncomfortableness, telling you he's alright with just sitting with you. "one of my favorite things to do actually"

you don't really know why but you kiss him after that. when you pull away you can faintly see his blank face. great. you ruined everything. you're about to give some half-assed excuse before his hand is on the back of your neck and he's pulling you back into him and pressing your body into his.

things get weird after that night.

you're still friends after that night, of course. except now its...different.

you still have your movie nights laughing at people making dumb decisions in horror movies, except now you'll sometimes wind up on mike's lap with your tongue down his throat.

you still text each other stupid pictures you found on snapchat (he insists on using it, fuckboy he is. or used to be, weirdly). except now before you go to sleep he'll send you a picture of his bulge with a smiley face at the bottom. if you send a picture back he'll send a long voice message that you don't open for your own sanity.

but you aren't like. dating. and you don't know why in passing you hear his teammate nick call you "mike's girl". because you aren't. at all.

and plus its not like you've slept together or even gone on an actual date. you're just...closer than normal friends are.

and then he leaves the next december to spend a week with his old friends, and you kind of mope around campus while he's gone. he makes sure to text you constant updates until the night where he arrives at the cabin, where he leaves you delivered for two days. he did say his ex was going to be there, so that nagging voice in the back of your head is telling you the worse.

until you finally get the call from some random number in alberta. when you pick up after some initial confusion you hear mike on the other side.

"mike? what the actual hell? its been two days, thought you somehow managed to get lost in the snow."

he laughed on the other line, able to tell you're insult at his intelligence meant you cared. his voice sounds hoarse.

"yeah, yeah i know. i'm sorry. something came up and i...i've been stuck in this damn police station-"

"police station? jesus, how hard did you guys party."

he calls your name and it's serious. he only sounds like that when something important or bad has happened.

"mike? is everything ok?"

"no, no its not. josh is...he's gone. the cabins gone. we're all pretty messed up."

you don't give a response, waiting for him to elaborate if he wants to.

"i don't know what to say..i'm so sorry."

"it's alright. i'll explain more when i get back. i just wanted to hear your voice."

"now you're really scaring me."

he laughs again, the scratch of his voice returning.

"thank you."

"for what? constantly insulting you and bringing you back to reality?"

"for making me laugh. haven't done it in a while."

"yeah, well...i'll make sure your roommate hasn't completely trashed your dorm. and we can get some takeout. on me, because i'm polite."

"screw that, we're going on a date."

your heart skips.

"did you actually get a concussion because that's not funny."

"im serious. no more being a pussy. time to start getting serious. plus we're basically already dating, so."

"god, why does everyone keep saying that?"

"i'll see you soon."

the phone hangs up and you toss the phone to the side with a slight smile.

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Free Use | Jeon Jungkook and Jung Hoseok

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jeon Jungkook x Girlfriend!Reader x Jung Hoseok

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), established relationship

Summary: Jungkook knew that you were his dream girl from the moment he saw you, but when you agreed to be the band's free Use stress toy, he knew he was a goner

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: free use, cumshots, unprotected sex, pet names (pretty), threesome, oral (male receiving), fingering, light overstimulation, praise, homoeroticism lowkey, Jungkook is kinda a simp

A/N: Unedited because, I won't lie, I've been writing and rewriting this for ages and I just keep not being satisfied, so hopefully you guys enjoy it and I'm being overly critical. let me know!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @moonchild0325 // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

When Jungkook met you for the first time, his entire world shifted on its axis. He thought you were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, and he could have sworn that when you spoke to him it was like music to his ears. But Jungkook didn't believe in love at first sight, he was a big boy now, long past stories of fairytale sorts.

So he took his time, he took you on dates, some elaborate beyond measure, and some mundane as anything, he learned you inside out, top to bottom. The most difficult part, he'd discovered, was letting you learn him back. He wasn't always good at opening up to people, but he found that with every piece of him that you became familiar with, it was easier to give you more.

And Jungkook gave as much as he received in return. He knew within months that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but his fate was sealed completely on a late autumn night. Him and the boys had just gotten back from a particularly long schedule and he was enjoying his night with you over drinks. He knew as well as you did that you were something of a lightweight, the alcohol streaming through you always loosened your tongue and brought out a more relaxed side of you.

But once you were settled on his lap, your mouth inching down his neck, the moment took an unexpected turn. Jungkook gripped your hips as they rolled over his, head tipped back against the couch as he revelled in the feeling of you pressed up against him.

"Missed you so fucking much," You mumbled, nipping at the skin, but hardly enough to leave a mark. "Wish you'd just taken me as soon as you got home. Need you inside so bad, Kook,"

"You were cooking, babe." He laughed breathlessly as your hips rocked over his again.

"Don't care. I'm yours whenever you want me. Don't even have to ask, just fuck me."

So he had fucked you then, and again after that, and maybe a third time in the shower. But it was when you were laying in bed, curled against his side for the first time in ages, that he brought up your words again.

"You mean I could fuck you whenever I want? No matter what?" He asked you. You nodded sleepily against his shoulder.

"Within some pre-discussed limits." You answered. "If you wanted to. But that's not everyone's thing." You answered simply. Jungkook couldn't imagine anyone not wanting practically unrestricted access to their partner at all times, but he figured some people just didn't get it.

The limits discussion came in the morning, long and in depth, paired with safe words and mutual agreements. And after that, many more rounds until the both of you were spent. From that day forward, Jungkook took full advantage of your little kink, and you were happy to let him.

The allowance of his band mates to use you was his idea. He'd seen how stressed and frustrated his hyungs were, and sure it was easy for them to get laid, but it was also stressful to protect themselves as world famous idols if they did. So, he suggested they use you as their stress relief. You were more eager to help them than he'd expected. So another round of discussions came around, time frames when you were at their beck and call. And before you knew it, you were theirs to play with as they pleased.

It was during one of those time frames that Jungkook came home from a schedule, finding you laid out across the couch, legs pressed wide and Hoseok's fingers buried inside of you. When you noticed his presence, you buried your face in your arms, hiding from your lover's hungry gaze. He had already been looking forward to having a little fun with you, but he hadn't expected his hyung to be getting you warmed up by the time he got home.

"Starting without me?" He asked, crouching down beside the couch. Hoseok looked up, grinning at the younger man and continuing to scissor his long digits inside of you.

"Barely. Just got here." He answered. Jungkook reached up, pulling your arms away from your face and leaning down to press his lips to yours.

"Having fun, pretty girl?" He asked. You whined in response, Hobi's fingertips brushing against the spongy spot inside of you and making your hips jerk. "Look at how pretty you are. Always so embarrassed like you're not begging to be used."

His filthy words were still laced with a gentle affection that had your head spinning. Hobi pulled his fingers out of your pussy, pressing them to your lips and watching as you sucked them in. You had only just finished cleaning your arousal off of his fingers when Jungkook was turning your head, moving you so your face was pressed against the bulge in his boxers. You hadn't even noticed him stripping off his pants.

You mouthed at his cock through the fabric, suckling the tip and leaving a dark spot over it, wet with his precum and your saliva. Meanwhile, Hobi moved quickly, stripping his top half, then shoving his pants and underwear off his long legs. You wanted to look, but you couldn't turn your head far enough with Jungkook's hand pressing firmly against your jaw.

"Take it out," Jungkook told you, and you reached up, tugging his boxers down until his aching length was exposed to you. He didn't even have to tell you what to do, just sitting pretty while you wrapped your lips around the tip, tongue dipping against his slit. He grunted quietly, slowly rocking his hips to press his length deeper into your warm mouth.

Hoseok lined himself up with your weeping hole, tapping his cock against your clit and listening to the muffled whines you let out around his friend's dick. He pushed your thighs wider, and you winced at the stretch in your hips, but then he was sinking his cock into you and all thoughts were wiped clear from your mind.

Jungkook stroked your hair, fucking lazily into your mouth and letting you swirl your tongue along the vein running up his dick.

"Look so pretty taking care of us." Jungkook purred, fucking into your mouth deeper until you were gagging around him, spit trailing from the corner of your lips, and as far as he was concerned, it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen. Nothing compared to watching your body be used to help his friends.

"She clenches on my dick so hard when you gag her like that," Hoseok hissed through clenched teeth, his hips rocking into yours and big hands gripping your hips so tight that there would probably be bruises. "Fuck her throat for me."

Jungkook didn't have to be told twice, holding your head in place and thrusting into your throat like it was his favorite toy. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to breathe with the tip of his dick kissing the back of your throat. He reached down, using his thumb to pry your mouth open a little more, drool and precum leaking down your face. Hoseok sped up, fucking you with deep, hard thrusts in time with Jungkook's hips. The feeling had you on cloud nine.

Your body had gotten used to the feeling of being used by them, but it wasn't often that you took more than one of them at a time, and it was even more rare for them to treat you like a total slut. Your chest was aching for breath when Jungkook finally let up, pulling his dick out of your mouth and allowing you to greedily gulp down air, coughing and spluttering and looking up at him through the tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Make me cum," He told you, bringing your hand up to wrap around his spit-soaked dick. You took over immediately, stroking him as well as you could with Hoseok's thrusts driving you up the couch. Jungkook groaned, feeling his orgasm building at the sight of you going dumb on Hobi's dick.

"Close," You warned, head tipped back as you swirled your thumb around the tip of Jungkook's dick. Every thrust Hobi made was dragging deliciously against your sweet spot, and your legs were trembling around his hips, pulling him in deeper. He reached down, expertly swirling his fingers against your clit and sending you careening into pure bliss.

The sight of you cumming was too much for Jungkook. He wrapped his hand around yours, tightening your grip on his dick and thrusting into it faster until he was spilling his cum onto you, some of it landing on your chest and neck, the rest dripping down your hand and along your wrist.

Hobi bit his bottom lip, fucking you through your orgasm until you were squirming away in overstimulation, then pulling out to jerk his cock a few times, his own cum painting your thighs. You closed your eyes, tired and sensitive, and a little too embarrassed to look at the two of them.

"Get her cleaned up, I'll get water." Hoseok said, standing up and pulling his boxers on. Jungkook still looked a little high off his orgasm and the sight of his beloved girlfriend getting fucked, but he nodded, using his boxers to wipe the cum off his dick and your hand before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Feeling okay, pretty?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face. You nodded, blinking up at him. "Good, you were so perfect for us. Gonna go grab a towel and get you cleaned up and then you can relax again."

With that promise he was off to the bathroom to wet a rag to clean you up, and you were content to melt into the couch with the two of them pampering you and thanking you for taking care of them. Even if it left you exhausted being the personal stress toy for all seven boys, you wouldn't have turned it down for the world.

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[froggiefacedlovee]

Little bit of my rewrite here...

But what if instead of Stolitz we got Stolas who was an actual villain and Blitzo x Striker. Blitzo hates Stolas but has to keep allowing his abuse (there's no SA in my rewrite) due to him and his workers being poor + he has to take care of a child (Loona is 13). In the Harvest Moon Festival Striker and Blitzo obviously had chemistry. Blitzo was considering joining Striker but ultimately chose not to due to the negative repercussions from Stolas, plus the whole needing to pay Moxxie and Millie. yada yada they stop him he gets away and at this point they're only lingering thoughts in each other's head. Maybe it keeps Blitzo up at night wondering what would have happened if he went with Strikers offer. In Western Energy, obviously we're giving Striker more of a threatening aura. This time it isn't Stella who hired Striker because Striker doesn't accept assassinations from royals. It was probably one of Stolas's imps or another wronged imp. In the end the assassination doesn't get called off, he doesn't live in a cave he lives in an abandoned train that's super cool looking and not totally sad. He also doesn't take Stolas to said train he does in fact go to a cave except he just leaves him tied and doesn't keep him on the tracks. Also there's no statue and no sexual jokes.

Anywayyysss.. he gets close to killing Stolas, he mentions Stella and Octavia and Stolas has a moment of realization though it's a hint too late as he practically ruined his relationship with both of them already. Anyways, Blitzo sends Moxxie and Millie to save him, they do. Striker is confused because he's basically saving Blitzo and yet he's being stopped??? In Oops, Striker is surprised to see that he had not only kidnapped Fizz but he kidnapped Blitzo too. Fizz and Blitzo do not make up in the end and during the fire of their escape Fizz leaves Blitzo behind to which Striker saves him and gets him out of their, apologizing to him and trying to help him get away before Crimson gets upset and tries to hunt them down.

I don't know if Stolas was still with Asmodeus or not due to Stolas not giving him an Asmodean crystal but if he was maybe we could do angst where Stolas goes after Striker and Blitzo in belief that Striker was stealing him and turns him to stone or something along those lines leading to a super manipulative scene with Blitzo and Stolas where he basically guilt trips Blitzo into coming with him and leaving Striker even more upset and hateful towards Stolas. This could also explain why Blitzo saw Striker in Truth Seekers.

[joshusten]

honeysuckle (guy/honey, redacted audios)

Guy is having not-so-wholesome thoughts about his recently turned roommate-to-lover.

NSFW CONTENT!! (minors dni pls!)

(suggestive, making out, dirty thoughts, implied sexual content at the end)

3.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist]

[cw/notes: idk man guy is horny and theres a lot of horny stuff but it's not SUPER explicit (i think) and plsplsss im asking for feedback bc this is the first time writing something this suggestive hope u enjoy!! OH also as always theres probably grammatical errors and guy might be OOC]

A HUGEEE thank you to the wonderful @slushiepizza for all the amazing suggestions and support throughout writing this fic!! this rlly would not be finished without ur help thank you for ur service in providing quality guy/honey content SHAKING U RN ILY!!!

Guy is a daydreamer.

Ask anyone who knows him, from his grade school teachers to his apartment neighbors, and they can attest that Guy never seems to run out of topics to talk about. Never a dull moment, much less a dull idea to mull over when he’s around.

In fact, his imagination is something he prides himself in. After all, as an aspiring writer, it’s what gives the very soul of all of the stories he wants to share with the world—whether it’s the exciting plot of a potential novel he has been writing (and rewriting) all night throughout the week or an epic fantasy he was able to make up on the top of his head and narrate to the kids by the playground of the middle-school he makes deliveries to.

Guy is a daydreamer. 

And it might be the very trait that would be the root of his current predicament.

Slow hands, languid movements

“Does this feel good, Honey?”

Heavy breaths, sharp gasps

“You can get r-rougher, babe. I can take it…”

Warm bodies, warmer lips

“M-mhm, Guy…”

Fuck. Their lips…

“Guy?”

Fuck.

“Guy!”

Fuck.

“Hello? Earth to Guy? You with us, buddy?”

Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.

“Wh-wha-what? H-hi! Yeah, of course I am. I am here. On the earth. Present. With you guys,” Guy cleared his throat awkwardly after seeing the unconvinced, deadpan looks on his co-workers' faces. Rosa specifically had her brow raised in suspicion to which Guy responded with a nervous smile. “Uh, what’s up?”

“What’s up,” The woman repeated, “Is your constant staring into space! You almost burned the dough if it weren’t for me keeping an eye on you! I’m used to your head in another world but you’ve barely said a word for the past few hours!” The others nodded in agreement. 

Rosa's hard eyes softened, “Is everything okay with you? Something botherin’ you or what?”

Right. Dough. Pizza. He’s making pizza. He’s kneading dough. The flour clinging to his hands suddenly felt heavier, the scent of basil overwhelmed his nose and the chattering of the customers increased in volume but that meant that everything was starting to make sense. He took in his surroundings, which were quickly clearing up for him, to finally decipher that he was still in Max’s, in the kitchen and it was still his shift.

Definitely not with his recent roommate-to-lover and definitely not in their dimmed bedroom, straddling them on their bed with a delightfully sinful expression painted on their face as his shaky hands slowly creep up between their—

Oh my god.

The very thought of them already leaves Guy's legs feeling like jelly. These daydreams had been a problem for him for quite some time. It wasn't like it was a crime to get all hot and bothered over his partner! Yet, lately, an unexplainable sense of shame builds inside him whenever his mind wanders to more…impure scenarios with them. 

Because despite what anyone might think of him and how he jokes about it, he's a little scared of being intimate with someone—no—with Honey.

Oh fuck, someone asked him a question.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a lil’ tired, I guess.”

And he isn’t lying, really. The fatigue of making pizzas and serving tables was no joke and, with all the very interesting fantasies occupying his mind, his shift slightly just got more difficult to get through than what he was used to. (Thank god he's not on delivery duty right now. He's self-aware enough to know he would get into an accident with his current situation)

His co-workers still looked suspicious but accepted his answer nonetheless, hurriedly going back to their tasks to avoid the wrath of their manager. The man let out a sigh of relief as he resumed his own tasks for the day.

As his grueling shift came closer to an end, he was more than ready to take the apron off and get the absolute fuck out of that kitchen.

—

Guy might actually be the first person in all of Dahlia to dread coming home to an apartment that he shared alongside his (literal!) dream partner who was waiting for him after a long, tiring day at work.

Honey, who was all bundled up in a blanket on the couch, paused the show playing on the T.V. to face their boyfriend and properly greet him, “Hey, welcome home. How’s work?”

“It was shit. Did you eat already?”

He saw them already heading their way to their small kitchen, reaching for something in the refrigerator. “Yeah, I left some for you in the fridge. We can heat it up if you want?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I ate back at the restaurant. What are you watchin’?” But before he could get a reply, Guy’s body stiffened when he felt a light shock from where Honey had suddenly touched his upper arm. 

Light touches.

Heavy panting.

Hot air.

“Oh, f-fuck, Guy. Do that again, hon. Please. Don’t stop, don’t—”

“ —think I didn’t hear you, mister! What do you mean your day was shit?” If Honey had noticed their boyfriend flinching at the mere tap on his shoulder, they didn’t comment on it. 

“U-uhm,” He coughed and shrugged lamely to hide his reaction. “Just the usual stuff.” The man put down all his stuff on the nearby coffee table. “C-can I just lay on your chest for a while? If it’s okay with you.”

Despite Honey’s aloofness, they can recognize when their partner is truly in need (And who could say no when their boyfriend’s usual chaotic self sounds so adorable being shy?) The gentleness in their gaze was enough to calm Guy’s frazzled mind, even just for a bit, before sitting on the sofa and patting on the empty spot beside them, albeit looking quite unsure on how to comfort him.

“C’mere. Do…do you wanna talk about it?"

Guy simply shakes his head before letting himself crash onto the couch and into his beloved's (with the second "e" pronounced!) welcoming arms—or, at least, what welcoming might look on Honey. He can feel the rigidness of their posture, remembering how awkward they can be with physical touch, yet here they are, going out of their comfort zone just to make sure he feels better. 

It makes him guiltier to know why he was acting like this in the first place.

“Can you…talk about your day instead, Honey?” 

They rolled their eyes with a fond smile, “Fine, but don’t think I’m letting go of it that easily, m’kay?” 

As Honey recounts the events of their day (which honestly isn't much), their stiff demeanor eventually relaxed to the point where they were more comfortable with absentmindedly giving affection, unaware that they’d been playing with Guy's hair for the past few minutes. The gentle massages on his scalp were a much-needed distraction for his mind.

That is until he felt a sharp tug from Honey in an attempt to untangle their fingers between his messy locks.

Fistfuls of hair.

Skin on skin.

Arched backs.

"Fuck, keep doin’ that, Honey. Oh–” 

“—shit! Sorry about that. Did I pull too hard?” Honey was already moving their fingers away from his head before Guy quickly (a little too quickly) halted the movement. Guy guided Honey’s hand back to its original place on his head, squeezing ever so slightly.

“No! It's okay, Honey. Just…keep it there.”

Honey gives him a knowing smirk, “You are acting so weird, you know that?”

“Just indulge in a poor man’s wishes, will you?” Guy dramatically lamented, really wanting to avoid the conversation and go back to relaxing and getting some rest. 

“Whatever you say, man,” They replied, resuming from where they left off with their story. 

As much as Guy would love to listen, his focus started wandering elsewhere as his mind drifted to sleep. 

The ticks of the clock, the scent of Honey’s body wash, the number of their eyelashes.

The texture of Honey's soft blanket.

Messy sheets.

Desperate thrusts.

Sweat dripping.

"Oh god, G-Guy, I think–I think I'm g-gonna–"

"--come?"

"H-huh?" Guy hadn't realized how hard he was gripping the throw pillow on his lap. At this point, he’s going to expose himself one way or another if he keeps being out of it. He tried his best to compose himself, hiding his distress behind a laugh. "S-sorry, Honey. Could you repeat that?"

Honey did a face, softly chuckling for a bit, before repeating their question. "I said; 'I'm gonna go buy a gift for Ollie’s birthday tomorrow morning, do you wanna come? It’s your day off tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Of course. I’d love to, Honey!”

Honey stared for what felt like forever before making a face again, this time, looking like they had just been enlightened by something and letting out a snort that was so adorable, Guy almost forgot why he was avoiding their gaze.

"Pfft– Guy, you—" Honey said through their stifled giggles (that was a tell-tale sign of the belly laughs they only share with him and no one else). They never got to finish the sentence, trying but, ultimately interrupting themselves with their own laughter.

He smiled, happy to see them show this much emotion towards him when to others they tend to be more closed off (albeit, a little confused about what caused it so suddenly). “I'm what, Honey? Hey! I'm what? Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re—pfft!” 

Familiar playful slaps targeted his thighs with a faint sting he’s too far used to. He notices that their smile had their teeth showing, too busy laughing to cover it with their hand like they often do. 

Guy’s crumbling.

He knew his desires were seeping through the cracks and it took all of his willpower to resist tackling them then and there—to feel every inch of their body and give them every last bit of pleasure they rightfully deserved. But he can't. He shouldn't.

So, he opts for a kiss on the cheek instead. 

Something sweet enough to mask how hard his mind was reeling with overly aggressive affection. As he continued with his fleeting, featherlight attacks on Honey's face, his lips felt the smile that their mouth formed (accompanied by an out-of-breath “Guy, that tickles!”) and he found that pulling away was more difficult than he thought.

After a while of innocent pecks and bubbling snorts, Honey raised a hand to wipe a tear from their eye. They were looking directly at him now, eyes soft with their lips slightly parted and panting from laughing too hard.

Lips. Their lips.

“Guy, you good?”

A man can only have so much self-control before he breaks.

The next few moments felt like a blur. A hitched breath, a tightened grip. His lips hungrily meet theirs and the moan he immediately lets out was almost pathetic. But he couldn’t give a damn about anything other than the pleasurable weight grinding down on his crotch. 

They felt so good. Everything felt so fucking good. The spinning in his mind paired with the aching throb of his cock were all too much to handle that he can’t even tell if this was real or if it was the same fantasies that had been torturing him all day.

No. It’s real. It’s all real.

Despite the haze in his surroundings—despite all the noise—the only thing occupying Guy’s thoughts were the whimpers coming out of Honey that were better than anything he could have ever dreamed of. 

“Fuck,” He swore under his breath, the friction against his growing bulge breaking down any sense of sanity he had left. Guy squeezed their thigh a little harsher than intended, making Honey loudly moan out in surprise.

He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into their mouth, lapping up all the sounds he managed to coax out of them. Honey’s hands found their way to his hair, tugging like last time with more intent than before and it dragged out a needy whine from his throat muffled between their lips.

Unfortunately, the breathlessness he was experiencing isn't the same type he feels when he's around Honey and he remembered that humans do, in fact, need oxygen in their system. He pulled away from them for a quick breath, taking pleasure in how they desperately chased his lips with a soft whine, before immediately aiming at their jaw, sucking, licking, and biting skin as it trails down on their neck. 

Honey is quick to respond, their fingers ghosting the hem of his work uniform before sliding them up, keeping his squirming body steady by grabbing his waist with one hand as the other roams to his chest, the shirt riding up with it and they feel his heartbeat speed up against his ribcage.

The sensation leaves Guy lightheaded. He swore he could see stars, especially after their warm palms stroked past a particular spot he didn’t even know he was sensitive to. The action had him writhing under the weight on his lap and Honey’s sudden thrust against his clothed dick brought out a stuttered gasp from him with his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Shit, baby,” Honey whispered, the strain in their voice evident as they grind down harder just to hear Guy’s wanton moans one more time. “So fucking needy.”

Hot breaths.

Bare skin.

Intoxicating scents.

This felt like Deja vu.

Guy had seen this before. He dreamt of it so much that it felt like second nature for his body. During nights when his partner hadn’t been home yet and he was feeling oh so, lonely—so desperate. Nights when his imagination had gone truly wild, the same scenario that he had been replaying over and over again. The one where he would have them in a panting mess.

He vividly remembers what goes next. The movement is practiced—etched into his memory. Every bone, every nerve in his system practically has it memorized in its core. 

He pins them on the arm of their sofa, the air is hot and heavy. One final passionate kiss, one final slip of his tongue, one final grind between their legs, and his hands would reach down, down where they needed him the most to—

“A-ah, Guy, w-wait!” 

And just like that, Guy’s mind snaps back to reality. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, no, I’m really sorry. I–” He hurries to back away, pushing off his body and sitting upright with an arm’s distance away from an equally disheveled Honey. Fuck, they looked so pretty with their lips swollen like that. His eyes guiltily avoided the abundance of purple marks he wasn't even aware he left on their neck. Shit, focus!  “I don’t know what came over me. I’m–”

“Guy, it’s okay, I like it!” Honey cuts him off, not allowing their boyfriend to give himself to blame for something that didn’t even need his apologies. “I like it a lot. I was just…worried. Ever since you came home you were acting kind of off and I don’t want you to go through with this when I feel like something’s bothering you.”

Honey reaches out to him with concerned eyes, which should probably be an indicator for Guy of how odd he has been acting as of late. Their fingers find his knuckles, gently tracing circles on them as they patiently wait for his response.

Guy never knew his heart could beat faster, given how…intimate their latest activities were, but here he is, out of breath and falling in love all over again.

“I-I know this is kinda weird and I’m being really weird and everything is weird right now but I…uhm. Well, I guess you were right about me being all bark but no bite after all, eh?” He cringes at the way his voice cracked at the end and clears his throat for the nth time today.

“Okay, what I’m trying to get to is that…I've…been thinking about you…in a not-so-wholesome way for a while now. And I know, I know, this isn't new. I've flirted with you before and you already said you were okay with it, even with the raunchier ones but I'm just…"

Guy nervously looks away to the side, his eyes downcast to avoid Honey's curious stare. "This feels like a whole new thing now that we’re actually together and it really means a lot to me. Us. You're actually one of the best things to ever come into my life and I don't want my lack of…keeping it in my pants…to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner."

The deafening silence that followed his vulnerable confession might possibly be one of the worst things he ever had to experience. Then, a sudden giggle tore through the tense atmosphere.

Honey was laughing again.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh but w-was that the thing that’s been bothering you?”

They moved closer to their boyfriend, that's currently sporting a comically betrayed look on his face. “I've noticed your hard-on already, Guy. And don’t worry, I've been…thinking about you like that too for a while now.”

Guy wished nothing more than to get swallowed by the ground beneath him.

“I–What the fu–YOU—!” Guy sputtered, not quite sure if he should feel relieved or embarrassed at the moment but one thing stuck to his thoughts, Honey felt the same.

“Honeeeey! You can't just say that and—I can’t believe you would—! Oh, you have no idea how much I've been through today!”

“I'm sorry!” But their shit-eating grin says otherwise and Guy can't help not to get mad anymore with that face. “Besides, it was kinda cute seeing you all flustered for once. Serves you right, you brat.”

“Oh wow, I’m the brat in this situation? You…torment me and now you degrade me with such scornful slander?” The man places a hand on his chest melodramatically. “I’m heartbroken, Honey…and still hard!”

"Hm…Well, then," Honey's half-lidded gaze directs itself to Guy's lips. The sultry tone of their voice tickles his brain in the best way possible. "Do you want me to—"

Guy lets out a surprised squeak as his back suddenly hits their sofa with a forceful 'thump!' Their hand is placed on the side of his head, fingers twisting around his curls. The other found its way on his thumping chest, carefully sliding downwards at an antagonizing pace.

"—lend you a hand? After all, I must’ve been quite the headache for you, in more ways than one." 

“Oh no,” Guy started, easily maneuvering their positions to have his partner on their back “No, no, no, you’ve been teasing me for far too long, Honey.”

“Let me," He drags his hips across theirs and he revels in the way Honey chokes on their breath. “Handle this. Is that alright with you, baby?” He wishes he could take a picture of this moment. Seeing them writhe under him was a sight he never wanted to forget.

Honey gulps before their lips form a nervously excited grin. Their pupils are blown wide in anticipation. "You better get to work then, Guy." 

Then, they slowly lean towards Guy to whisper their next words to his burning ears, “And don’t worry about being rough, hon. I can take it.”

Guy is a daydreamer.

But no daydream can ever compare to the reality he's going to be experiencing right now.

[chubs-deuce]

I read your post about Chaggie and it reminded me of how I recently made a rewrite of Vaggie to make her more interesting.

For one, NOT make her a love interest right off the bat since it's been shown that by doing so it doesn't allow her to be her own character.

Play more into what being an exorcist was like for her, what made her have a change of heart and how she hates herself for what she's done in the past.

Perhaps during one of those exterminations she witnesses a family getting murdered or at least the husband sacrificing himself to let his wife and children get away, seeing how despite being sinful creatures they still have hearts in their own way.

She would look at herself, her sisters and Adam and how they don't act like that at all and wondered if what they were doing is really right.

And from there everything could be the same with the exception of her and Charlie being best friends instead of lovers and have her arc being more focused on wanting to make sure the hotel works so maybe one day SHE could get redeemed herself and feel like a real angel.

sorry ik this response is hella late I just haven't had the brain juice for it until now

Right?!

Tho imo making them an established couple from the get-go isn't even really the issue so much as Vaggie just constantly being sidelined and reduced to "Charlie's protective girlfriend" and their couple dynamic refusing to be anything but wholesome.

It just feels way too much like Vaggie makes being Charlie's main source of support her whole entire identitiy and at times it even feels a little bit one-sided imo?

I completely blame the fact that the narrative lets Charlie be her own character who deals with situations that don't involve Vaggie directly in any capacity, whereas Vaggie's problems all entirely come back to wanting to help Charlie or the hotel (so... in extension, also Charlie)...

And imo anytime they do interact in a romantic way it feels a bit much like the narrative is just pointing at them going "look! They're using pet names and holding hands! Aren't they cute??? Ship them please" and then... do almost nothing with them beyond that, even when given some great opportunities.

One thing that would've actually saved this ship for me would've been if the writers actually allowed them to have a proper fight about the whole former exorcist reveal.

Like why bring that up if it's not actually going to contribute anything to the narrative?!

They could've easily included the fact that Charlie jumped pretty recklessly into a deal with Alastor as something Vaggie is upset over (reasonably so imo), and then have both of them argue about it for a bit, before putting that whole thing aside for the moment because protecting the hotel is more important right now.

Charlie can still have her talk with Rosie about that whole mess and come out of it with a more forgiving mindset, while Vaggie has her little mini-arc with Camilla (tho imo she should've also been established to want revenge way more in order for the song's message to actually hit right).

Then later, when the battle is about to begin, her and Vaggie could sit down and talk about it and then mutually apologize.

THEN they can have their little duet (which - if you ask me - should've been a reprise of Whatever It Takes, not the father/daughter song...)

In canon there was never even? An apology? Charlie was angry about it for like half an episode and then brought Vaggie a souvenir and suddenly everything's fine? I honestly hated that. They had so much potential to finally add something meaningful to the pairing with this plotpoint and yet chose to omit that, and for what?

To keep them 100% wholesome? It removes any nuance that would've helped make their dynamic more interesting to follow along.

I'm just... so disappointed with how painfully bland this pairing is just because canon refused to take any kinds of risks with them :')

[eddiediazismyhusband]

hey everyone

just getting on here to have a conversation about some things that i need to clear up.

so for starters, i’m going to come right out and say that i’m taking a break from tumblr… lately i have been subjected to seeing multiple thinly veiled posts about me floating around and i cannot sit by and allow myself to be treated like that

that being said, i am taking this break to focus on my mental health; 911 used to be a comfort show to me- somewhere i could just go to and watch whenever i needed to be picked up, because even if the show was still forcing certain storylines/arcs, they at least made some sense for the characters and didn’t rely on completely rewriting and ignoring their history within the narrative.

911 is no longer that for me anymore. tim minear and the writing team have ruined any and all enjoyment i got from earlier seasons due to continuing KR’s trend of completely retconning the narrative while simultaneously blatantly dragging us along by dangling buddie canon over our heads with a stick only to immediately snatch it away at the last second.

today’s “first look” article only further confirmed my suspicions that tim had no intentions of leading to buddie canon.

i see the takes/theories about what the article could mean, but we have made theories such as this every year only for it to not go anywhere; nothing had indicated that s8 will be any different.

for starters, tim is bringing back a known problematic actor to play a problematic character that tim continues to retcon, despite the fandom being outspoken about how insane this is. instead of listening to the fandom, instead he has them continuing to develop their chemistry-less relationship saying that they are going strong.

secondarily, tim wrote out a beloved poc character in order to keep this problematic character around- something that i think the fandom has moved on from a little too quickly

thirdly, we continue to be told that eddie will be making progress each season, yet we never actually see that progress happen, and if we do, never in a way that is actually in character; on top of that, we have fans begging for his character to be ruined simply so that his character arc will be sexualized due to it involving two conventionally attractive men.

this fandom no longer feels like a safe space for me mentally and i hate that… i am devastated at the thought of no longer interacting with my mutuals, but i cannot engage with content that showcases the real-time decline of a show i used to adore before the creators decided to ruin that enjoyment.

so i am taking a bit of my break; i dont know how long nor how permanent of a break this is, but i need to put my mental health first.

until next time (whenever that may be)