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#but I touched Louis’ arm
laurenkmyers · 5 months
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also this happened?
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finexbright · 10 months
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i'll say it once and hope that it's drilled into everyone's brains : just because louis currently enjoys the barricade chaos doesn't give any single person the right to violate his personal boundaries. i understand that amidst the chaos, things can take a downward turn, but i hope that everyone at barricade understands and respects that louis is a person who ultimately has some boundaries and if those boundaries are violated, he will recede immediately. and no one gets to say "well he seemed to enjoy it, why stop now" because he seemed to enjoy it only because his boundaries were being respected.
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ishipmutualrespect · 1 month
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pb524830 · 14 days
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clean up nice
part: 1 pairing: paige bueckers x reader word count: 1.5k c/w: fingering, public sex, language synopsis: um! paige looks too good in her fit for the draft tonight! a/n: the white suit that's really all anyway happy draft! tune in!
“Oh.”
“You like?” Paige grins, giving me a spin.
I swallow tightly. “Like” is an understatement - perhaps the understatement. She’s dressed in an all white two-piece suit, omitting the blazer in favor of a cross body Louis Vuitton bag. She wears a silk button-down underneath the vest, and a chain peeks out from under her collar.
I can’t find the words to respond to her question as my eyes drink the rest of her in. Golden hoop earrings glisten on her ears, and her clear blue eyes are highlighted by the dark mascara that coats her lashes. When she blinks, I catch sight of the shimmer on her eyelids. Her hair is wavy, two strands framing her face, but the rest braided away to fall down her back in loose curls. 
And the rings. There are rings adorning her long, lithe fingers. I try not to think about how cool that metal must feel to the touch.
“Dude?
“Huh? Yes. What?” I stammer.
Her grin slowly turns to a smirk. “I think you do like,” she notes slyly. 
My mouth is dry. “You look- you look good, P,” I manage to say, trying desperately to hold my voice steady. She takes measured steps towards me, that stupid smirk still gracing her face. We’re in a hotel in New York, about to head to the WNBA Draft, where her teammates Nika and Aaliyah will begin their professional careers. I’m helping with hair and makeup for the event.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” she smiles, reaching me and running her hands down my sides. I’m dressed in a strapless black dress, my hair done up in a bun with some strands framing my face. Her hands move smoothly to my ass as her mouth covers mine in a slow, sensual kiss. She squeezes, her large hands unabashed and eager as she slips her tongue into my mouth. “Come on, ma. Lemme get you once before we go,” she murmurs against my lips.
I sigh against her mouth, loosening my grip on her vest, my knuckles nearly as white as the material. “No, Paige. You still have to get through pictures. And we have to get Li and Nika to the carpet.” She edges her knee between my legs. “You know you want it,” Paige urges. “Of course I do,” I whisper. “But we really have to go.” She groans, pulling away. “You’re not going to sleep tonight without letting me fuck you in that dress, you hear?”
I peck her lips once more. “You better make good on that promise, baby.” Her eyes roll up into her head at the nickname. “Fuck, bro,” she grumbles, and I laugh, ignoring the aching wetness in between my legs.
I lead Paige out of the hotel room and into the elevator, but as soon as the metal doors close behind us, she has me pressed against a wall, a hand at my jaw as her mouth moves feverishly against mine.
“Paige!” I gasp. “Not here!”
“Just making sure you’re nice and wet for me when we get back.”
I moan softly as she moves her lips to my neck, letting my eyes flutter closed as her hands wander back to my ass. 
“I’m gonna be wet all day, then,” I complain, bracing a hand at the back of her neck.
“Good,” she murmurs, biting at my skin. She pulls back to look at me, then kisses me hard. “I want it dripping out of you.”
Then she’s facing forward like nothing has happened, walking coolly out of the elevator when the doors ding and open. I take a second to gather myself, then strut out behind her, taking her arm. 
We take a car to the draft venue, and I do a couple last minute touch ups for Aaliyah and Nika before they head out onto the carpet. As I highlight Nika’s nose, I catch Paige’s eyes on me. She runs a hand over her jaw, watching me intently, then bites her lip, shaking her head. She looks away, pretending to talk to Celeste and Azzi, and I roll my eyes.
We watch as photographers snap pictures of Aaliyah and Nika, and Paige’s hand snakes around my waist, pulling my back flush to her torso. “You should be on a red carpet somewhere,” she murmurs. I bite back a smile. “Thank you,” I say politely. “Actually,” Paige continues. “You should be naked in my bed right now.” My eyelids flutter. Fuck.
“Or better yet,” she says softly, leaning next to my ear. “You should leave it on. Your tits look fucking amazing in this dress.” 
“Paige,” I warn. 
“Nah, matter of fact… I want both.”
I pause, confused, but my heart hammering with need and arousal.
“I wanna fuck you with it on… and then I wanna rip it off of you and fuck you like that, too.”
“Oh, my-”
“Would you let me?” Her breath is hot against my ear, and I can feel her lips moving. The wetness in between my legs has grown unbearable.
“Bathroom,” I breathe out, and strut away from her, down the hall.
Luckily, this is one of those fancy venues that has nice, individual bathrooms rather than stalls. I push the door open to one of them, then wait a few seconds before I hear a knock. I open the door carefully, and Paige shoves her way inside, practically flinging me against the sink. 
I moan against her mouth as her hand circles my neck and she kisses me deeply, breathing hard through her nose. “Fuck, you taste good,” she groans, rucking my dress up. “Five minutes. That’s it,” I command, but she’s already kicking my legs open. “Gimme two,” she growls, suckling at the tops of my breasts spilling out of the dress.
Her hand moves between my legs to pull my panties to the side, and I whine when she slips a finger in, her rings cool against my walls. “You’re soaked,” she mumbles, looking up at me. “I didn’t even touch you.” She doesn’t move her finger, just leaves it inside of me, and I wiggle for friction. Her other hand stills my hips. “You get to come when you tell me why you’re so fucking wet, ma,” she says, her mouth twisting into a smug smile. “You just… look so pretty,” I pant, squirming under her gaze and touch.
Her smile gets wider. “You’re all wet… because I’m pretty?” Paige teases. “Yes,” I gasp. “How pretty?” She demands. “You can feel it, can’t you?” I whimper, biting my lip. She moves her finger in and out of me, slowly, and I nearly sob from relief. “No, I’m just wondering…” Paige starts, then plunges another finger into me. I gasp, lurching towards her, but she shoves me back, fucking me with two fingers now. “Two finger pretty?”
Another one. I cry out as the third digit enters me. “Or three finger pretty?”
“However- however many you want,” I tell her, my tone wanton and pleading.
“I’mma fuck you with three, how’s that, ma?” She asks, but it’s not really a question.
She pounds into my with her fingers, and my head tips back, the stretch almost unbearable, her longest finger so close to that spot-
“Oh!”
“Right there?” My eyes meet hers, and I can hardly see the blues of her irises.
“Right there, Paige. Fuck- my clit. Can you- my clit…”
“I gotchu.” Her thumb begins circling my clit. “Come on, baby. You’re doing so good. Just come on my fingers like a good girl. That’s good, yeah. So fuckin’ good for me, just do whatever I say, yeah? You just wanna make me proud?”
“Got all dressed up for you, look so pretty for you. You wanna make me proud?”
Paige’s voice, the words she’s saying, her fingers plunging in and out and her thumb abusing my clit - it’s all too much. I smack my hand to my mouth and bite my palm hard enough that I think I break skin, screaming against my hand as I shatter all over her fingers.
“Oh, fuck, ma, just like that. So perfect for me like that.”
“Paige,” I gasp, bucking my hips to ride out my high, my legs shaking as she eases her fingers out and reaches for toilet paper to clean us both up.
“Man, I can’t wait to take this off of you and do this again tonight,” she grins.
I turn to the mirror, trying to fix my appearance before having to face everyone else again. My chest is shiny with sweat, my cheeks flushed with more than just blush. My eyes are glazed over, and I have to tug my dress down to cover my ass again. “Paige,” I complain. “Look what you did.”
I try desperately to fix my hair, but it’s fallen out of its updo. “You look fine,” she reassures me, coming behind me to place a kiss at my temple. I stare at her in the mirror. Frustrated, I shake my hair out of the bobby pins, placing them into her outstretched palm. “This is your fault,” I gripe.
She raises her eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” She smirks.
“Yes,” I snap, turning to her. “You just clean up too nice.”
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elsweetheart · 1 year
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what you heard — part two.
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synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer. part two of this fic.
♪ what you heard — sonder ♪
cw: reader is dating a man, mentions of cheating, mentions of weed, men being annoying, smutsmutsmut, brief mention of violence. some angst? kinda. i guess. happy ending tho yay!
an: hi! it’s here! thank you for alllll the love on the first fic, i can’t believe how much people enjoyed it! i’m actually super proud of this one, my favourite thing i’ve written me thinks …… anyways yea! there will be no part three so pls don’t ask! ily ♡
It’s been a week. You haven’t spoken.
There’s blue-magenta behind your eyes. It swirls into contours and bubbles, recognisable sights beginning to take shape. Things go stark white, and then pale pink. Chartreuse fades in to khaki green into pale grey before you see a brick orangey red. You start to feel, aware of your senses. The brick becomes hair, and the hair tickles your neck.
You hear next, your own sigh. Your fingers press into an arm — your tight grip creates a white halo in their skin. You grip tighter, you have red fingernails now. You don’t remember getting them painted that colour. Half moons dust their skin from your touch. Freckles too.
A familiar feeling inside of you, that searing, hot, beautiful pressure in your groin. It feels good this time, not rushed and fast. Something smooth drags in and out of you, smoother than you’ve felt down there before. Something smells herby… herby and familiar, mixed with something else you can’t make out. The feeling builds, and you’re being touched all over with tender hands. Hands. A pixelated tattoo — not remembering the details.
The picture gets clearer, and you see your own smooth thighs. The freckle on the centre of one of them. They’re being pushed up rhythmically at the same time, a body slot between them. You see purple plastic now, coated and slick— and you realise you can hear yourself again. Loud, whiny, on the edge of… of something.
“Doin’ such a good job taking me, you look so pretty.” The echoey voice belongs to Ellie Williams and you look up to see her face. She’s wearing the grey hoodie she wore the last time you saw her. She looks the same down to her hair, but — wasn’t her eyebrow slit on the other eyebrow? You become more aware and it switches when you blink. How are you blinking? Fingers brush your clit and you gasp for air, skin on fire. “Better than your boyfriend, huh?” You were struck with euphoria, the sound of the ocean deafeningly loud, roaring monstrously in your ears. White noise. Nothing.
You gasped, and you were on your back still — but this time your room was dark, you were still wearing your clothes, and no Ellie. Your heart thumps, and your body reacts the same way it would as if you’d had a nightmare. You barely catch your breath, and the bed shifts beside you.
“Babe — makin’ so much noise. Woke me up, fuck.” The irritated grumble of your boyfriend. You don’t remember him sliding in beside you, and when your senses arrived back into your body, having been borrowed by the dream version of you, you were hit by the familiar and yet not at all comfortable stench of beer. Louis’ skin was pink and clammy under the moonlight peeking through your window and you felt that ugly feeling you’d been cursed with lately, disgust. It piled up inside your stomach like bile before washing away into the numb feeling of regret. He had gone to a party near by, a frat house — Delta something? Or was it Alpha? Clearly he couldn’t be all that bothered to walk back to his own dorm, staying with you instead. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him your spare key card. You push the thought away, and you try to like him again.
You squint in the low light, fully waking yourself up now. You shifted, thighs clattering into eachother with not much room, Louis taking up the bed. At the shift of your legs, you’re alarmed by the way your pyjama shorts cling to your hot, wet centre and suddenly you’re brought back to reality. You were having a wet dream about Ellie.
Guilty, your head turns to look at the man beside you. The room is filled by his deep heavy breaths, and the scratchy sound your hair made against the pillow when you turned your head. A small brown birthmark splotches on his bare shoulder, and you wonder if you squint, it could look like freckles. Reaching out, your fingers brush over it — and you are ejected from the moment instantly as he groans at the contact, rolling over. To add insult to injury, he thrusts a pillow out from beneath his head and shoves it between the two of you half awake. Message received.
You stare at the square tiles of your ceiling. Ellie Ellie Ellie. You wondered what she was doing right now, probably fast asleep. You lift your head quietly to look at your alarm clock, a bright red ‘02:55AM’ scalding your eyes. She could be at a party still, dealing. You pictured her there, hands stuffed in her pockets, wearing that cute khaki green windbreaker jacket that you secretly loved and her black jeans— her hair up in that messy half up bun. You don’t stop your cheeks from pushing up as you close your eyes, thinking of your new friend fondly. Your eyes felt heavier now, and you let yourself immerse into the fantasy, too sleepy to reject it or bare any guilt for daydreaming. You’re there at the party too, wearing something tight. Ellie notices you right away, eyes flickering over you in that way she has about her which is somehow equally loserish and confident. You walk over to her, and you’re too tired to fathom a conversation — but you’re not too drunk like you were last time, and there’s giggling and touching, and best of all Ellie isn’t looking at any other girls. She isn’t even focused on dealing anymore. She gives you all of her attention.
You fall asleep that way. You don’t dream of her, or anything for that matter for the rest of the night but the sleep is peaceful and you wake up well rested.
It’s 9:22AM when you wake up, and Louis is gone. Probably to make his 9AM lecture, turning up still drunk which you’re sure was absolutely hilarious to him and his friends, whilst the professor was probably hoping he wouldn’t turn up at all. You rub your eyes, and that nagging feeling in your chest kicks in.
One could truly never appreciate those first thirty seconds after you wake up. Still dreamy and disorientated, no anxiety, no worries — just bliss. Until you remember the current affairs of your life, and your eyes open.
Your phone is cold in your hand when you reach over and take it off charge, your free hand rubbing the sleep out your eyes as you suppress a yawn. Your stomach bottoms out, which is honestly sickening so early in the morning, as your eyes immediately land on a text from Ellie herself. Oh God, please tell me I didn’t reach over and text her in my sleep about my daydreams. It was unrealistic, but you definitely wouldn’t put it past yourself lately. You feel a blossom of disappointment bloom below your rib cage when you read ‘30% off for my fav custys. Blue dream, Purple haze, OG Green Kush. Get at me. Can do pick up or delivery tonight 📢🧟‍♀️’ Just another mass text, after all — Ellie was a business woman.
You swipe back onto your lockscreen, and chase the red ‘1’ symbol besides the Instagram logo, following it all the way to your DMS. Oh? Oh.
You see the first few words of the message from the preview, and your stomach fizzes up like shaken pop.
‘hey girl, i know you don’t know me but this is weighing on my mind so i have to tell you. last night your boyfriend louis was at the party down at alpha phi and we made out a couple of times before going upstairs and having sex. i didn’t know he had a gf until afterwards bc someone told me and i feel really guilty. u deserve better babe! just thought i’d let u know. i’m so sorry!!!’
Right, okay. This is not how you thought your day would begin.
You sit up slowly, like you’re worried that if you sit up too fast you’ll freak yourself out. How could this happen? You knew Louis was a bit of a dick sometimes, but a cheater? He seemed kind of territorial around Ellie at that party if you remembered correctly. So why would he wanna cheat?
You stare at the wall. Cry, damnit. Cry!
You don’t. But maybe you’re in shock. You pick your phone up again and text the girl back, a simple ‘thank you, will dump him today’ which you admit sounded kind of casual and hilarious, but you truly didn’t know what to say. You wasn’t really sure what to do. Do you just go about your day as normal? No, you needed to dump him. Okay, yes. First order of business.
Not over text, no. You were classier than that — although he didn’t deserve more than a ‘bye loser!’ text followed by the blocking of his number. You squint outside at the sun, showered and got dressed, pulling another one of your many sundresses over your frame. Despite the nagging, nervous feeling in your stomach it felt like a normal day. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world.
You sat at your desk, staring at the wall. You’ll get up and go eventually you thought. You stayed in your room for hours.
4:47PM. No music in your earphones today, it didn’t feel right. Your mind was too loud anyways, you weren’t quite sure you’d even be able to hear the music over your thoughts. Your body was on autopilot as you walk. Louis should be getting out of his afternoon class in 13 minutes approximately, you’ll just wait for him outside and confront him there. Quick and easy.
But there’ll be people around, and you don’t want to make a scene do you? What if he’s with his friends and they all laugh at you? You figured it was more embarrassing for you than it was for him. What were you thinking getting involved with a frat boy? Of course he was going to cheat. The building that his class would be in was in sight now, footsteps quickening. Your heart was quickening now too, not with nerves but with anger. Anger at him. Anger at yourself, moreso. How did you let him cheat? How did you let it go on long enough for that to happen? Why didn’t you cheat first?
Your own thought sends you skidding to a stop. That’s… not you. You’re not a cheater. Regardless of what the person you’re dating does, it’s not right. Noise attracts you up ahead, and you see gaggles of students begin to leave the building — class having finished early. You don’t think, just dart left and keep walking. Away from the building, and Louis. Your feet start to hurt in your shoes from the way the soles of your feet are pounding against the bright concrete in the late afternoon sun. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I chickened out. Your brain screams at you and you’re already heading in the direction of the place that quiets your mind. You keep walking until you’re inside Ellie’s building.
There’s no time to think as you walk up to the beige door you knew too well, the familiar whiteboard pinned to it reading ‘Ellie’ in her slightly messy scribble, with ‘Knock first, assholes.’ scribed beneath it smaller. You do just that, you knock. After you do, you stand back — catching your breath from the stairs you took up there. You hadn’t even thought of what you were gonna say. Did you have money on you? Yes. You could just buy some of the weed she sent out the mass text about, and see where it goes from there. Solid plan.
You were too busy rehearsing what you were gonna say to realise that you hadn’t heard any movement from inside her room. An image of her fast sleep, drooling on her pillow napping crossed your mind and if you weren’t so wired up you’d maybe smile. You knock again, a little more timidly this time but feeling the same level of urgency. You tried to recall if she’d ever mentioned sleeping with headphones on? Your brows furrow, and just when you knock again — the door beside Ellie’s opens, a ginger guy wearing a jersey and sweatpants poking his head round to look at you.
“If you’re looking for Ellie I saw her go out earlier. She’s not in.” He rasped, and you’d realised that your knocking had perhaps woken him up from a slumber, instead of the imaginary Ellie who wasn’t in her room. You feel your heart drop a few centimetres before pattering against your chest in embarrassment, face feeling hotter than it already was.
“Oh, okay. Sorry if my knocking woke you up.” You cringe with a polite smile that he doesn’t return.
“She’s a dealer, you’re meant to text before you come over so this shit doesn’t happen.” He grumbles, before sulking back into his room — door closing. Your eyes widen— Jheez. Touchy.
You stare at Ellies door again, rolling your lips into your mouth as you thought. Maybe this was a good thing, fate even. You shouldn’t have come here. You should have just gone straight to Louis and dumped his ass like you originally planned— not run straight to your emotional-support-dealer who was complicating things enough as it is. You could have really done with smoking first though, you realised — which actually made your eyes glaze over with tears. Ellie’s weed was just behind that door.
You finally managed to peel yourself away, shamefully plodding back the way you came. You were halfway down the hall, when the door you were headed for opened — the sound of an oh so familiar laugh reaching your ears before your eyes found her. Ellie was walking along side Dina, the two chatting as your dealer searched her pockets for her keycard. There was a second or two when they hadn’t seen you yet, and you slowed down your pace — eyes raking over her. There was no reason for her to look so good, you almost felt like it was on purpose — hair in that classic half updo and an old white wifebeater clinging to her frame, black backpack on her back with simple black jeans and scuffed vans. You panicked, turning around hoping she wouldn’t see you, realised there was nowhere to run to, and spun back around to the two girls. When you did, they were already looking at you cautiously.
Dina looked at you, and then looked at Ellie, then back at you. Ellie called your name, pace slowing and you smiled sheepishly, praying the embarrassed and stressed tears threatening to spill would get sucked back into your eyes.
“Hey. Sorry I should have texted I was just…” Your eyes remove themselves from her, flying up to the ceiling so that the tears wouldn’t spill. You suck in a calming breath. Why now? Why was it all hitting you now? You glanced back at her just to see her face drop upon inspecting your state, and looked back at Dina.
“I’ll just grab the textbook from you later on, or you can bring it to me when you’re done — it’s chill.” Dina shrugged, and you could tell she was trying to be casual and polite despite it perhaps being an inconvenience to do so.
“Yeah. I’ll bring it.” Ellie nodded vigorously, like she were just about to ask her to do so. “I’ll see you later, D.”
Dina sent you a sympathetic smile before backing up towards the doorway, heading out. You fist at your dress uncomfortably, a silence settling over the two of you as you both watch her leave.
“Uh, come in.” Ellie speaks gently, in lieu of your frazzled state. She taps her keycard on the reader and opens the door, pressing her back to it to hold it open for you before closing it behind you. You watch the way she instantly makes herself at home like usual, kicking off her shoes dropping her backpack, sitting on the bed. You don’t move, just standing there in front of the door watching her. This really wasn’t meant to happen, therefore you had no time to mentally prepare yourself. Your brain was catching up, forcing you to dawdle and have an outer body experience in Ellie’s dorm.
“You… okay?” She raised an eyebrow, eyes flitting over the way you were gripping your sundress like it was going to fly off your body if you didn’t. You nodded, non verbal for a moment, eyes not meeting hers. You seemed to be coping fine before, but being around Ellie made you… vulnerable. Like you were worried that everything would just come out, word vomit all over your dress, and all your emotions were brought to the surface instantly by her calming nature. When you didn’t speak, she did. “You want pre-rolls? I got a couple, I dunno if you got my text.” She starts to reach for her backpack again. “Sorry I wasn’t here — you didn’t tell me you were coming so I—”
“Louis cheated on me.” You blurt and she freezes, ceasing to reach for her bag and reverting to the position she was sat on the bed before. Her face scrunches up a little.
“What?”
“Yeah— he…yeah.” There’s no emotion behind your words now, staring past her at the wall. Her eyes squeeze shut, scrambling for words for a moment as she pushes herself to stand.
“What did— how did you find out?” She exasperates, slowly stepping your way.
“I just woke up to a DM on Instagram from some random girl spilling everything, saying that she didn’t know he had a girlfriend and fucked him. She was really nice about it though.” You ponder, shaking yourself back to your senses. It felt more real now that you had said it out loud, which was kind of comforting in a way.
“Damn.” Ellie whispers, now stood right in front of you. Her fingers nervously graze your arm, wanting to comfort you. “I’m… really sorry babe.” Babe. You don’t have time to register the nickname as she takes action on her impulses, suddenly wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You’re caught off guard, arms hovering for a moment before wrapping around her. You squeeze, and it feels good to be held by her. You nuzzle into her neck as she rubs comforting circles on your waist with her thumbs, your breathing synced up.
“I’m not.” It comes out muffled into her, and she pulls back slightly— warm breath wafting over your face as she stares down at you in confusion. “Huh?”
“I’m…relieved. I don’t feel anything. I don’t… care.” You admit, brows furrowing in a way that made Ellie think you felt guilty for having this outlook.
“Maybe you’re in shock.”
“Maybe I just didn’t like him.” You quickly admit even quieter, like the two of you were having a whisper off. She stared at you, not able to help herself from glancing at your glossed lips, and wondered if you could feel her heartbeat speed up as your bodies were pressed so tightly together.
“No?”
“Maybe I… was already cheating on him in my head.”
Green light, Ellie thinks — infact she’d never known a light greener. She closes in on you, your back rebounding a little off the door, eyes locked in on eachothers lips. They nearly touch, the two of you exchanging a breath when a deafening knock sounds on the wooden door you were pressed against, making the two of you jump. Ellie pulls back, smiling sheepishly at your nervous giggle and she presses into you even more, bringing her eye to the view-hole over your head in the door to see who it was, expecting a customer. She pulls back, face to face and her eyes are wider this time, cheeks reddening.
“Think someone came lookin’ for you.”
Your own eyes expand, and you spin around to look through — a fisheye lens view of Louis stood there, stupid backwards cap on his head and meaty hands stuffed into his board-shorts as he obnoxiously chewed his gum.
Ellie’s heart swells for you when you spin around, looking at her desperately in a panic.
“Don’t wanna see him! I — I can’t. Not yet!” You whisper, breath shaking in your throat and she nods, a comforting hand on your arm rubbing for a moment as she pushes you into the crevice of the wall where the door would open on, hiding you. He knocks again, and you hear Ellie’s neighbour groan, angry footsteps thudding towards his own door through the wall.
“S’okay. Hey, s’alright. Fuck it— uh, I’ll see what he wants.” She nods at your worried expression, opening the door before her neighbour gets to him— boxing you in behind it. You had kind of hoped the sleep deprived neighbour would have gotten to Louis first, giving him a piece of his mind.
“Yo.” Louis greet, uninterested and you cringed, already wondering how you ever dated that. Ellie stared at him, waiting for him to ask about you. Waiting for her chance to chew him out. “Lemme get a half ounce. You got purple haze?” He sniffed.
“Looks like I’m fresh out.” You could hear the anger in Ellie’s voice just from the sight of him, which concerned you whilst equally validated you. She was blunt, tilt her chin up the way she did at that pool party, exuding confidence.
“Damn. What else you got?” He sighed, not seeming to pick up of Ellie’s raging ‘Fuck you’ vibe. She didn’t move to rummage her drawers or invite him in. She simply stood, unwavering. Staring. Borderline glaring, urging him to just get the picture that he wasn’t welcome here tonight. Or ever again, if she was being honest.
“Got nothin’ for you, man.” She held his gaze. He faltered now. Oh? Eyes flitting all around her face like he was trying to work out what her problem is. What did she know?
“You’re all out?” He flattened his voice just a bit more. A tone to his voice that said ‘Are you fucking with me?’
“Looks like I am.”
You heard him shuffling awkwardly, before kissing his teeth and stepping away. “Aight.”
There was no blow up, no gross attitude from Louis, no flip out from Ellie where she’d punch him in the face in your honour. He simply laid down and accepted that he was gonna be weed-less tonight, and fucked off. You peeked, watching Ellie continue to stare him down with her stony expression as he walked away before closing the door softly, revealing you behind it — cramped up in the corner. You looked dishevelled and wide eyed, having had to make an effort to not breathe, let alone speak. She felt her heart just… soften at the sight of you. In a way, you’d kind of resembled a scared stray kitten who’s run away from their big bad owner, and who better to take you in than a loving student with plenty of catnip?
She cleared her throat, stepping back and allowing you to move out of the cramped space behind the door.
“Just hearing him makes me mad.” You huff, walking over to her bed and plopping down on the end of it, defeated. She wipes her hands on her jeans, a little awkwardly — still recovering from your near kiss turned near confrontation.
“Yeah. Kinda took me everything not to kick his scrawny ass.” She shook it off, eyebrows jumping up as she envisioned the scene. You did too, something stirring deep within you at the vision of Ellie beating him, knuckles splattered with blood, angry grimace on her face. You shoo it away quickly, not wanting to indulge in that sick fantasy. You let out a non committal hum, dragging your eyes away from her.
“So did you want any weed? I can hook you up with something…” She took a step toward her black backpack that was slumped against the floor. You shook your head quickly, knowing she wouldn’t let you pay for it yet again given your state and well — as much as you adored free weed, you couldn’t do that to her twice in a row.
“No, no. I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to smoke, you know? Probably not the best idea.” You conversed, staring ahead as you took a long deep breath — feeling the slightest spark of what could be relief that things were finally over, despite the betrayal of being cheated on. You thought you had buried what you really wanted deep inside, turns out it was right on the surface the whole time. Was it that obvious to Ellie how needy you really were for her the whole time? You thought back to your near-kiss a few moments back, heat crawling up the back of your neck like the feeling of being flustered was submerging you in it’s lusty molasses. You realised she was saying nothing, just watching you as she swayed on her feet — nervously toeing at the carpet.
Shit, maybe you’d overstepped.
“Sorry — I can head out now. I don’t know why I ran here I just — I didn’t know where to go. Sorry.” You stood up and Ellie’s eyes enlarged, her own heart thumping as she tried to muster up the words to just speak. She was unprepared, she’d admit — this whole thing was not how she thought it would go down. She’d always imagined you banging on her door in the middle of the night, begging her to fuck you, something about Louis not being able to do it right, and she was the only one who could do the job. You’d be on eachother in an instant, limbs and moans, loud and messy, and afterwards— afterwards is when you’d have the discussion. She’d tell you that she can treat you better, and you’d say that you’d always wanted her. Not… this. This was slow, bordering on awkward. Come on Ellie, get it together.
“Hey.” It came out gentle, and almost like a Pavlov response to her tone, you calmed — eyes melting into a soft gaze as her hand grazed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “We don’t need to smoke to hang out. I’m cool to just… talk. If you wanna.”
So you did.
You talked, and in no time you were laughing away, problems seemingly forgotten as you laid side by side on the bed. Ellie had some kind of magic about her, a type that inspired time to stop when the two of you would hang out. You wouldn’t notice the sun going down outside the window, or the way your bodies would overtime shift closer and closer to eachother on the bed until your shoulders were pressed together. Your shoes were kicked off and the window was open — bringing a warm, balmy evening humidity into the dorm. At the dawn of summer, the warm and lethargic evenings were one of your favourite things about the season change. They were even better with Ellie, you thought.
“So, did it work?” She was smirking, the laugh clenching the back of her throat like she was on the verge of letting out a ridiculous school-girl giggle.
“Did what work? You can’t just start a sentence like that and expect me to know what you mean.” You picked up her brown stuffed bear from the bed and swat her with it— the memory of the last time you were in her room springing up. What went down on this very bed. Suddenly, you realised what she might have been talking about.
“Shut up.” She chuckled. “My handy tips and tricks. Did you ever get down to having a better time in the bedroom?” She wiggled her brows, the arm furthest from you coming up to rest behind her head as she turned slightly to look at you — face close enough to see the green speckles caressed by hazel in her limbal rings.
“Ellie.” You groan in embarrassment, covering your face (and more so, your sheepish smile.) The smile peeked from behind your palms anyway, and Ellie capsized onto her side, leaning on her elbow now with her own grin — caused by the adorable-ness of yours.
“S’just a question.” Her voice was gentle and flat in her deep drawl, pulling your hands away from your face with the help of her own fingers pulling it away. Her hand stayed on top of yours when you rested it on top of your ribs.
“Do I have to answer?” You squint and her mouth turned downwards in thought with a inattentive shrug.
“No.” That mischievous smile of hers crept back up. “But that won’t stop me from guessing your answer.”
You gaze down at her hand on top of yours. It was cold like it always was — having caught her touch through grazed fingers with a weed baggie between them and friendly arm caresses when running into eachother in public. You wondered how her hands were still cold, even in the smouldering warmth of her dorm. You avoid her smug gaze.
“Well what do you think?” You quieten your voice, smile still lingering as you wiggle your fingers beneath her palm, she squeezes your fingers with her own — pinning them down where they rest. Ellie thinks, briefly distracted by your hands flirting.
“Hm.” She pretended to think. “Maybe. You probably tried to help him, bein’ a good person n’all. But you know… what was it you said last time? You either got it or you don’t?”
You said nothing, considering her guess. She waited, for some kind of reaction giving away whether or not she was right or wrong. When it didn’t come, she prompt you.
“No?” Her thumb was on top of the back of your hand now, her other fingers tucked beneath your palm— her knuckles laying flat against your ribs. The touch being so close to your tits sent your mind reeling and it took you a moment to respond, her thumb just stroking slow languid circles on your own knuckles.
“Since that day I haven’t… me and him didn’t…” You admit, finally braving a glance up to her eyes. They’re intense, as inspected — flickering back up to your eyes from your lips, caught. “He wanted to, but… I didn’t want to even try anymore.”
“And whys that?” She rushed out, internally yelling at herself for the speed in which she prompted you. Patience Ellie, Jesus fucking Christ. You know where this is headed, and if you push too hard she’ll spook like last time. Be cool.
Your cheeks pushed up, and she assumes you’re fighting a giggle at her eager response. Luckily, you don’t mention it. “Lets say you wanted a sandwich…” You started. Okay, what the fuck. Where was this going?
“Uh— sure?”
“And there’s a sandwich store in your town. Their sandwiches… aren’t very good. You think, maybe I’m ordering the wrong sandwich. But all the sandwiches taste the same and they’re all… bad. But then a new sandwich place opens up down the street. The sandwiches look amazing, and everything about it is perfect. Would you keep going back to the bad sandwich store?”
Ellie squinted, slowly sitting up a little more with an exasperated expression as her brain caught up.
“You did all that… instead of just telling me that you couldn’t fuck Louis anymore because you wanted to fuck me?”
You burst into giggles. “I’m shy!” You whine, rolling away from her to face the wall beside her bed. She laughs heartily in disbelief, her hands coming to tickle your waist without a thought.
“Oh you’re shy?” She snickered through your squeals. “Fuckin’ Shakespeare over here — what sandwich store huh? No, really. I’m dying to know where that came from.”
You flipped to face her suddenly, her face unexpectedly close. You faltered, eyes dropping to her pretty, naturally red lips before pulling them away in order to get your words out. “It was the best way I could explain it, okay?”
“Alright, wordsmith.” She was not just smirking, but openly staring at your mouth now, so close her breath was tickling your nose.
“You’re so annoying.” You press your lips together, subconsciously hiding them in nerves.
“Yeah?” Kiss me. Kiss me before I fucking do it.
“Yeah. Always popping up in my dreams too.” You beam, leaning into her a little now. Please kiss me. And she nearly does, but your words hit her and her curiosity gets the better of her. Fuck. She pulls away a little, eyes boring back into yours.
“What dream? Tell me ‘bout your dream.” She’s whispering now, brow jabbing downward in curiosity. You sigh, eyes closing. Why would you bring that up? You drop your head back onto the pillow.
“I just… had these dreams. About you.” You open your eyes. There’s blu-tack stuck to her ceiling tile. Her finger almost makes you jump as it curls beneath your chin with the gentlest touch, turning your face back to look at her.
“What happened in these dreams? Hm?”
You suck on your bottom lip, taking the time to take in all her features. The way it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered, just the two of you laying close on this bed, backed into the corner against the wall. Your cunt was aching — you let yourself realise this now.
“We’d be here. Just like this.” You murmur, your own fingers running up her wrist to meet her hand where it cupped your chin. Her eyes followed your movements, glued to your baby pink fingernails. “We’d be laughing, and talking and suddenly… we’re kissing. And… you’re on top of me.”
Thank fuck for your sundress, Ellie’s eyes were truly blessed — dropping down shamelessly to your tits as they begin to push against the material, already practically spilling out from your compromising position. She realises that you’re drawing in a long breath, followed by shorter, wetter ones. You swallow, panting from the memory. Jesus fucking Christ loops around her head, bouncing off the walls of her brain in an echo-chamber of horny. What next? What happens next?
“And then you’re… pushing into me and it feels good. Better than… better than he could ever make me feel. And you’re telling me I’m pretty… and how good I’m doing… just like you said you would.” You’re even quieter, but your words couldn’t be louder to Ellie. She’s tormented, wanting you to finish off your story, the tale of your dirty dreams — but equally wanting to cut it short by shutting you up with her mouth on yours. Decisions, decisions.
Your brows are furrowed, your hand sliding her hand down to your throat— just pressing it there. Maybe for comfort, maybe just to feel her touch. Likely because it’s turning you on. She can feel your pulse thrumming violently against your skin. Ellie’s eyes are all pupil. Is that your heartbeat or mine?
“And I cum.” You grin slowly in disbelief, eyes glazed over completely like you’ve been crying, brows still pinched in that endearing furrow. “I actually cum. And it’s so good. Because it’s you. And only you can—”
Fuck it.
Her mouth is on yours in an instant, swallowing the surprised whimper when she rolls over to hover over you, her knee pressed between your legs. Her tongue introduces itself to yours quickly, the wet muscles sliding over eachother in greeting like they were old friends. Her hand still cupped your throat where you had guide her and she could barely think, her body on pure primal autopilot. Ellie liked to think she was fairly experienced, but shit — it’s never felt like this before.
Her hands are everywhere. You’re trying to count them because you’re sure — certain even that you can feel more than two sliding over you, pushing your dress further up your thighs, kneading your warm, plush breasts. Your legs are falling open wider, like her tongue had reached a spot in your mouth that had triggered you to just go limp, and with the movement her knee presses up just a little more snug against your hot cunt. You shift on it, on instinct and the friction of it just… you moan.
Ellie can’t help but notice how relieved it sounds, and she wants to coo at you, chuckle and tease you about being sooo pent up, because little Louis couldn’t find that pretty clit. But she couldn’t drag her mouth away from you, having journeyed right down to your neck, sucking and biting— marking you. You belonged to her now, and there was no doubt about that. You couldn’t go back on yourself now, no. Not with Ellie all over you.
You kept shifting on it, experimentally grinding your pantie-clad pussy against her jean covered knee. You don’t even recall ever being in this position with Louis, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, huffing out your nose. Get that man out of your head, before he ruins the mood.
You let out another quiet mewl, and God — Ellie just had to pull away and look at you. Just a little bit, just close enough to still be breathing hard into each-other’s mouth. When your eyes fluttered open, she swore she could have died right there. You look flushed, pupils blown out with that needy look in your eye. As the moment settled in, hips still weakly bucking against her knee and hands desperately grabbing at her shoulders — Ellie felt a small tremor beneath your body, like a tiny earthquake had occurred right below you. It travelled up your body, falling out of your mouth in the language of a trembling gasp. Were you…?
Ellie grinned, proudly — brows knit as if to say ‘awwww’. And then she did say it, mouth running without permission from her brain. “Aw, you’re shaking.” She whispered, like it was a secret being shared at a sleepover. You weren’t your usually giggly self now, getting shy on her and turning away — you just wet your lips, tilting your hips for more and pulled her back in to kiss.
Ellie’s hand were pulling at your dress before she remembered to ask, so she slowed down hoping you’d say something. As she peeled away the fabric, dragging your straps down your arms her lips followed, pressing chaste kisses to the warm skin. You sighed at the feeling, melting into her bedsheets and Ellie tugged just that bit harder, your tits free from the dress now that bunched around your waist. The dealers eyes were on them, and then on your face, and then back to your tits when she remembered she was actually allowed to be looking at them this time. Her hands followed, doing what she’d always dreamt of.
The coldness of her palms brought your nipples to a peak and you wanted to roll over and hide again, but you couldn’t — because Ellie was dragging her spread hands up your ribs and grabbing the fat of your tits and it just felt too good. Felt good to be appreciated, analysed, borderline worshipped as Ellie dragged her thumbs over your nipples making a low whine fall from your throat accidentally.
“Shit, babe.” She breathed in disbelief, looking up at you once more and retreating to drop a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You this pretty everywhere?”
You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all— arching your chest into her touch. She gave them a firm squeeze before reluctantly pulling away to continue on her journey down your body, her mission to get your dress completely off still in full pursuit.
She immediately dives in to press a pouty kiss between your tits as soon as she can, letting her top lip drag slightly as she trails her lips downwards to your stomach. Don’t rush this, Ellie — she thinks, and for a moment she fears she accidentally said it out because you giggle. She looks up at you, a little wide eyed in confusion at your dazed titter. Her hands are curled around your sides now, thumbs resting on your rib cage, and your hand is creeping up the back of her head to caress the soft hair there.
“Tickles.” You mutter and she grins wolfishly, shaking her head ever so slightly as she gets back to it. A little impatiently, she tugs the dress down your hips, the material straining ever so slightly before she can slide them down your legs. You help her, kicking the material up and off and hearing it flump onto the floor beside her bed.
She was hungry now, closer and closer to what she wanted but her laser focus was on proving herself. You deserved to feel good, and that’s exactly what she was gonna give you. She needed to show you that she was the better option, that she could look after you right. Her hands were pushing your thighs open now, her face flushed and desperate as she pressed kisses to the inside. She hadn’t even spared a glance at your underwear yet, couldn’t even tell you what colour they were — just fixated on sucking marks into your skin, making sure that the dark purple were visible when she’d pull away with a pop.
Embarrassingly so, you bucked your hips against nothing— the stretch of material spread over your clit just barely grazing the button. You understood perfectly what her game was, she’d bet you’d never been teased before and she was right — but right now you needed her touch, after so long you just needed her.
“Please.” You finally let out as her hands stroke the crevices of your thigh crease, light fingers that tickled you enough to make you buck again. Her nose pressed against the skin beside the lacy leg hole of your underwear as she pressed a firm kiss there.
“Please what.” She didn’t even stop to look at you.
“Please t—ouch me.” You shudder, words nearly cut off half way through. She stops then, eyes wide like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, before dragging them down to your panties. A soft pink, the outline of your fat lips spread due to the way she’d parted your thighs, the material stuck to them — creating the clear shape. What really caught her eye, was the growing darkness through them — soaked through from just her kisses and caressing. Confidence surged through her once again.
Her two front teeth grazed her bottom lip, bringing them down as if planning to say ‘Ffffuuuckk’ but it died on her tongue, just the ‘Ffffff’ sound whispered out. You watched her pupils double in size, and when she looked back up at you her lids were heavier.
“S’all for me?” She cooed, in this sickly sweet voice that made your fogged brain nearly not pick up on the fact that she was mocking you ever so slightly. You let out a shaky breath, and she didn’t take her eyes off you when she leant back in, pressing a soft and loving kiss over the fabric — right where your clit would be. She watched you then, jaw gaping and brows knitting, she even heard your toes clenching hard behind her because of the way the bed covers shifted. She remembered something being said about you liking when the other person took charge, and she wondered how far she could milk you into that space. How much could she force you to just let go and let her do all the thinking?
“S’right baby, just relax up for me yeah? You’re all tense.” She smoothes a hand over your tummy and Jesus, that was easy — you’re nodding furiously, body tensing and untensing a few times, actively trying to get yourself to follow her command. That’s okay, she thinks — we’ll get you there.
She starts pressing kisses around your panties again, your widened thigh crease, the spread lip peeking out from the material, along the waistband. She hears you breathing hard without looking up. Poor thing, must’ve really been unsatisfied to get this worked up so soon. Her own finger comes up to drag up and down your slit through the material, the plumpness of it having swallowed some fabric into its crease. You feel more arousal seep out of you when her finger tips circle around your clit and press down ever so slightly.
“Teasin’ me.” You manage in a strained whisper, trying to widen your legs even more. Your ankle hangs off the bed.
“Mhm.” She goes back in, pressing kisses to below where she was touching, her nose doing the work in nudging your button. She got to work, her tongue sliding out and licking up the juices that had seep through the soft pink material. You tasted just like she imagined, a little tangy and salty sweet— making saliva collect at the base of her tongue to roll down and soak you more.
The moans were flowing freely when she wrapped her toned arms around your thighs, bringing you down onto her mouth more. Through your hazy mind, you don’t quite recall ever getting to see her arms like this — and you’re just now noting how much muscle she truly had. For someone with a cocky side, she had to be pretty humble to hide them. It made the submission creep up more, the idea that she could do anything she wanted to you bouncing around your brain that was quickly emptying itself like an egg timer.
Ellie looked starved, practically unhinging her jaw to gather the saliva and arousal soaked material in her mouth and use the point of her tongue to push you where you needed her. The friction of the material between her and your clit rubbed against you in all the right ways, and just when you felt yourself drifting off into that hazy relaxed space, the same one you felt when you’d just woken up — your stomach involuntarily tensed and curled with something devastating building up. Surely not, surely Ellie wasn’t about to make you cum through your panties.
You let out a pathetic and almost fearful whine as your hand shaped itself into a claw at the back of her head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull her away. You didn’t even think you’d be able to, her head moving vigorously with her face buried in your covered crotch. Ellie wasn’t planning on eating you out through your underwear to the point of making you cum, but as soon as you signified that there was a chance she could? It was game. Ellie was competitive by nature, and sometimes that even meant competing with herself. Bet you can’t do it, she taunts herself— and as she pins down your bucking hips that smug voice in her head responds. Bet you can.
You shake, pressing her face in further as you hit a peak — stomach clenching the same way it does when you ride a drop-coaster, seemingly plummeting to the ground on rickety tracks. Your cunt burned and ached as she frantically mouthed at your clit through the thin fabric, tongue working you in such a frenzy that you were certain if she went for any longer she’d burst a hole in the material and get to the real thing. You felt your warmth gush out, the entirety of your panties now three shades darker in colour due to yours and Ellie’s joint attack.
Her teeth scraped over your covered clit as she pant for her own breath and you jerked, oversensitive — prompting her to detach her mouth, instead choosing to rest her cheek above your waistband, pressing breathless kisses to the skin she could reach.
“Ohmy—gosh.” You whisper in the shape of a whine and she looks up at you again, a sheen of wetness around her chin and mouth from her own saliva and what had snuck through the fabric. Her thumb strokes your waist soothingly, a chuckle slipping past her lips.
“That was cute.” Was all she said and you felt the heat burn your cheeks once more. Whilst you were distracted, breathless love stuck smile hidden by your clammy palms she took the opportunity to peel your panties to the side, looking at what she’d created. She let out a warm sigh that brushed over your glistening mound, entranced by pretty much the most perfect pussy she’d ever laid eyes on. Your folds were sparkling in your own juices and she could see the way it trailed beneath you having dripped down from your leaking hole. A string of arousal still remained attached to the underwear she’d pulled aside, and she wanted to explode. She placed two thumbs either side of the lips, pulling you apart a little more and you ripped your hands away from your face to watch — a feverish whimper leaving you from her touch. “So fucking pretty. ‘My god.” She sighs, pink tongue licking a stripe of you bottom to top, savouring in your taste— now unfiltered and louder on her tongue with nothing between the two of you. You let out a sob, still a little sensitive and your knees come up beside your chest, hand trembling on her head. She sucks on your clit, directly this time and it gets too much, your thighs attempting to crush her head like a watermelon. She removes her thumbs from beside your cunt to slam her hands quickly into the back of your thighs, pushing herself deeper into you as she shoves your thighs up, keeping you open. She hums against you threateningly and you cry, burbling out her name and a load of nonsense.
“ElsEllie—Ell—ie— s’too much I’m— already—” you try but it barely makes it’s way past your lips. She pulls away with an obscene pop, choosing to pepper kisses to your pubic mound instead and looking up at you warningly.
“Just take it pretty girl, gotta be brave about it yeah?” Tough love, because she’s desperate to taste you just a little longer. You’re about to protest, something along the lines of ‘give me a breather’ or ‘wait a minute or i’m gonna cum again too fast’ when you feel the coarse pads of her fingers slide up beneath her mouth, applying just enough pressure to the skin around your clenching hole to silence you.
She just rubs, massages the area, attacking your clit with her tongue once more. The movements are more precise, more pointed — the tip of the muscle circling around your button dizzyingly before you feel her middle finger dip into your hole ever so slightly. “Let me have you baby, let me in.” She whispers on you and you’re nodding, against your will, head thudding back into the pillow and nipples pebbled like you wouldn’t believe. You can have me. You can have me forever if you keep eating it like this.
She sinks her finger in, and you go against your brain and squeeze hard against it— like— if she were wearing a ring you’d be able to pull it off, that’s how hard you squeezed. “Hey.” Was all she whispered, a line appearing in her forehead when she looked at you, the trace of something sterner behind her expression. “Not going anywhere sweetheart, loosen up for me.” She stroked your thigh and you whimpered, doing your best.
“M’sorry” you shivered and she forgave you by kissing your clit again, beginning to drag her finger outwards. Not long after, her other finger joined and you went blind for a moment when they pressed up against something soft and spongy.
“Theeeere she is.” She spoke, more to herself as you hiccuped, hands clutching yourself now, self soothing because holy hell — you’d never felt like this before. Not even by yourself. “Thats it baby, good girl.”
You squeezed again at the praise. Good girl. You’d been waiting for it, anticipating your favourite words from all of your fantasies and it sounded better than you could ever have imagined coming from her Texan drawl. She smiled, like she knew — and tsked at you tensing again. From the fresh tidal wave of arousal dripping out of you from her words, your pussy all but squelched when she started to move her wrist again, grinding against that special spot. “S’talking to me, pretty. You liked that huh? Like bein’ good for me?”
You knew she had it in her— but damn— Ellie really knew what she was doing. You swore if she had dared to call you a good girl in a more casual setting before today, you might have just folded and become the cheater you swore you’d never be.
“Mhm!” Was all you could get out as you found her rhythm, working with her as you rolled you hips down on her fingers. Your chest burned with that sappy feeling — admiring the way she really did know how to look after you and give you exactly what you need. You needed to feel closeness again, and you called her name. “Ellie!”
“Yeah.” She cooed in a deep groan, lazily mouthing at you. She drew back for a moment and you thought she would give you what you wanted, but instead she went above and beyond, spitting on your clit before chasing it up with the flat of her tongue. You gasped, threatening to cut the circulation off in her fingers again.
“Ellie.” You sobbed more urgently, mouth actually downturned now like you couldn’t help from actually crying — hot tears resting in the space below your eye. The tone caught her attention and she looked up.
“Whats up baby? You feelin’ good?” Her voice was high and sympathetic, making you push your bottom lip out — trying to gather her thoughts as she continued to press you, fingers grinding inside your gummy walls.
“Yeah. Need to— need to kiss you.” You sniffle and she’s pouting back at you, instantly pushing her body up without taking her fingers out your cunt. Not that you’d let her, sucking them in desperately.
“Okay baby, alright.” She murmurs, getting herself situated on her elbow and bringing her mouth down to yours. You moan when you kiss her, mainly because she gave into your craving of her, but also because you could taste yourself all over her tongue. “Cantastethatright? Tastesgood” It’s muffled by your own lips as she speaks against them, not letting her pull back enough to speak clearly as your need to kiss her had become insatiable. You have no choice however, when you feel the pit of your stomach crying out in familiarity once more at the intense feeling.
“Ohmygod— gonna cum ‘gain Ellie. Oh Ellie!” She recalls you almost sound frightened, like you just can’t believe that someone could make her cum once, let alone twice.
“Yeah? Gonna give me another one?” She pulled away from you so that she could look at you, hand cupping up to thumb at your cheekbone so that your gaze remained on her as she did. Your eyes grew wild and desperate, wet and weak as you tried to be good for her and keep them open. “Thats it, beautiful. God— m’so fucking lucky. Just needed me to take care of you isn’t that right? That’s it baby, that’s my good girl. Take what you deserve.” You can barely hear her at this point, drowned out by the roaring white noise blasting your ears once more, your own moans a backing track. Her lips were at your temple, dropping encouraging kisses but you weren’t there. You’d floated up past her ceiling tiles, no longer a person. Yeah. That fucking good.
You came back to your body, eventually — you’re not sure when you left and when you returned but you could feel now, your own hand shooting out of its weak trance to grip her wrist and cease her movements. “El” You rasp weakly and she slows.
You seemed like you could fall asleep — and Ellie was happy to let you. You looked adorable and sleepy, so she took you in her arms, pressing kisses to your cheeks. “Did so good for me pretty girl.” She whispers, and it’s so warm and familiar like you’d been with her forever. Like that awful man had never been given the chance to touch you. What was his name again? You pout against her neck, letting her manoeuvre you and baby you. She’d clean you up in a little while, for now focused on holding you and telling you how good you did. She’d made you cum like you deserved, and that was two more times than Louis did. Ellie was… satisfied. “You okay?”
You wrapped your legs around her hips, drawing her closer to your body so that she was half on top of you. She chuckled, pulling back a little to look at you. “Hm? Caught your breath?” There was no cockiness in her voice, all gentleness when she cups your face making your eyes flutter open.
“Ellie.” You murmur, your own fingers grazing her cheeks like you were seeing her for the first time in years.
“Thats right, baby.” She grins, sounding like she was proud of you which made your heart swell. Her sweatpants covered crotch fell against your own slightly and you winced, suckling on your bottom lip and lashes fluttering from the feeling of the material against your engorged clit. “Shit, sorry—” She went to apologise, but your leg locked around her ass, pulling her back into you. You wriggled your hips, humping her like a little bunny rabbit.
Oh… you weren’t done.
“Yeah?” She was still smiling, but a darkness bolted through them, something else there, the sweetness disappearing for something more stern. “Want more?”
You’re lifting your hips now, trying to get some kind of feeling against you as your chest rises and falls — back into the swing of it. You felt deranged, like there was chance you’d be this damn horny forever.
She reaches down to grip your hips and thumps her covered cunt against yours a few times making you hum. She looks pensive, and when she looks back to you she’s decided. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
She’s pulling the harness over her boxers, sweatpants discarded next to your dress, before you’ve even registered her practically leap off the bed. The dildo attached is black, and your mind flashes back to your dream. Not purple then, huh.
She takes the time to look at you from a new angle, on your back, knees cutely pressed together. From where she stands, she can see the purple bruises her mouth had littered around your thighs. As she tightens the harness with one hand, she gently pushes you knee open with the other, getting a good look at your drenched, abused pussy. Your arms squish over your boobs, fists beneath your chin as you watch her in adoration.
Before you know it, she’s hovering over you again— leaning over to share a kiss, as if she’d missed you in the short amount of time she’d been apart from you. You feel the tip graze your slit and jolt slightly, fingers curling into her wifebeater. Pushing herself up to be able to see properly, she grips the cock in her fist before flushing.
“Fuck— uh, I don’t have lube.” She thinks, and thinks hard — this cock was undoubtably bigger than your now exes, and she didn’t want it to hurt. The idea of her splitting you open made her clit warm, but she was set on you feeling nothing short of amazing.
“S’okay.” You pout, high pitched and whiny as you tilt your hips down, trying to hump against the shaft — or the tip — or whatever you could reach.
“Nah s’big, babe. Need it nice n’wet for you.” She huffs. “Look, I can run down to the store. I know they sell it there and—”
She doesn’t even realise you’re pulling her desperately onto the bed, falling onto her back until she’s looking up at you. In any other situation, she’d expect you to suddenly be taking charge — asserting dominance, but no — you looked more fucked out than ever, staring down at her with big puppy dog eyes, whispering ‘Please’ over and over like a prayer.
She cups your cheek, pressing some of your hair against your face from her grasp and is about to clarify on ‘Please what, sweet girl?’ but the words catch in her throat when you crawl down her shakily, licking your swollen lips at the sight of her plastic cock. No way.
“You sure, baby?” The words died on her tongue as you start to mouth at it, pink tongue flattened desperately against the shiny strap. A low moan sounds from the back of your throat as you continue licking it like it had some kind of heavenly flavouring. Now Ellie knew it wasn’t strictly her dick, and maybe it was the way you were pressing the strap down into her crotch — but she couldn’t stop the curses from flying out. It felt… good. You drooled, the pearly, bubbly sheen dripping down the shaft before you took the tip of your mouth, obscene moans and sucking sounds bouncing around the room.
You pulled off with a pop for a second, glancing up at her with your hazy, submissive expression she’d grown fond of fast. “Feel like a slut.” You groan, high pitched and girlish. You had worry in your expression, brows knitted and eyes watery — but it didn’t quite meet your actions as you went back down, taking as much as you could in your throat. Ellie smirked, entertained as she pulled any hair out your face — watching your ministrations.
“You can be a slut for me if you want, it’s okay. Won’t tell anyone.” She cooes. You blink up at her, suckling on her tip. “Yeah. Don’t wanna be a slut for just anyone though do you? You want me to slut you out, like you deserve.” It doesn’t come out like a question in the slightest, her back teeth gritting when she watches your lashes flutter, eyes threatening to roll back. You pull off, dropping demure kisses to the now wet shaft. “You shy now? Come up here.” She’s grinning and you practically leap to straddle her.
You’re not focused on what she’s doing, busy kissing over her cheeks — and you’re suddenly confronted by her shifting you into position, sliding the wet tip through your velvety, leaking cunt. “You want it like this? Like how I taught you?” She tilts her head to look at you and you nod frantically, stopping yourself from lurching forward again and kissing every freckle on her face. Gotta be good for her, gotta be good for her — round and round your head like a broken record.
“Want it Ellie, please.” You whine and she’s shushing you, hot pressure searing within when she pushes in. It’s just like you dreamt, smooth— but small ridges catch inside you making you heave out a high pitched moan into her neck. Her free hand smoothes down your back, comforting you.
“I know.” She croons. “Gonna be a big girl and take it all, yeah?”
It takes you everything not to destroy the progress she’s made inside you and clamp down like a vice, so you fling in the opposite direction, arching your back into her to widen yourself. She feels this, feels you trying to help her push it inside and kisses your forehead. “Such a good fucking girl.”
She wants to give you time to adjust to the size, but as soon as it’s all the way in you rock against her, sliding it in and out. You choke out a pained whine and she tsk’s, holding you still.
“See? Just not cut out for doin’ any of the work are you?”
Something awake deep down within you past the submissive fog wants to be offended. But she’s right. You want whatever Ellie wants, and if she wants you to lay there on top of her and take it— that’s what you want too. She speaks again, and you almost hit a sudden orgasm, her feet flattening on the bed as she slowly bucks up, doing all the fucking for you as you lay limp on top of her. “Thats okay. Just my pretty pillow princess. Yeah, that sounds right doesn’t it.” She pants lowly, but the words echo around your head like she screamed it.
“Feels — so — mmpghm” Its muffled into her shoulder anyway, and her hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading you wider to take her deeper. You mewl.
“Oh that’s the spot, isn’t it babe.” The smugness is back, and you let her speed up, pounding that sore but needy spot inside you. “Fuck, gonna make me cum too with those pretty noises.” Her teeth are grit, and your mind reels. You didn’t know that was possible.
At this point, Ellie was beginning to use you to get off. The way she was tugging you back and fourth on her lap had you sliding the harness right up over her clit, the ridges inside pressing her through her boxers. If she could just hold on a little longer, put her focus back on you…
“Wish you… wish you could—” You choke on your moans, about to hurtle over the edge.
“Could what, hm?” She purses her lips, focused on her movements.
“Could cum inside me. Oh!” It hits you, and maybe it was your own words that did it. But she’s bucking off the bed soon enough, right behind you as her stomach tenses. The idea of her pearly white cum fountaining out your cunt when she’d unplug you making her go into fucking overload. She got sloppy, chasing her high but it was okay — you were crying again, the strap barely moving inside you from your clench but it didn’t stop Ellie from grinding, toes clenching and eyes squeezing shut. Fuck, fuck, shit. She was cumming.
You were pretty sure you blacked out. Because suddenly your eyes were fluttering open, senses returning to you slowly and you were just catching Ellie slipping into the bathroom, laying on your back now having been rolled over. You closed your eyes again sleepily, listening to the clattering of the harness hit the floor and a sighed out ‘Fuck’ from the dealer herself. The tap ran, and you dozed a little before Ellie returned with wipes.
“Mornin’ babe.” She chuckled, voice a little hoarse as you blinked up at her sleepily.
“Come n’cuddle.” Your voice was more hoarse, coming out cracked and squeaky. If you weren’t so sleepy, maybe you’d get shy about it.
“Alright, hold your horses. Need to get you nice and cleaned up first.” She shook her head, smiling at you affectionately as she settled between your thighs. Once she had wiped you up, helped you to the bathroom to pee, and pulled an oversized tshirt of hers over your head — then finally she was snuggling up beside you, pulling the blanket over you both. “There we go.” She stretched, arms above her head for a moment before they wrapped around you. “Ugh, I kinda stink.” She turned her nose up and you giggled into her chest. “Sorry bout that.” She chuckled.
“Don’t think you have to be sorry about anything ever again after that.” Your sweet voice is muffled, and your face warms again thinking about all the vulgar things she just did to you. All the vulgar things you did. You clamped your eyes shut, thinking about the desperate way you sucked her off.
“Good to know. In that case, definitely won’t be the last time I’m pulling that trick out.” She joked and you pulled back to look up at her with lovey-dovey eyes. She panicked, misreading. “Unless you don’t wanna…uh—”
You rolled your eyes. “I do. I want… I want you. Completely.”
Her expression softened, thumb drawing mindless shapes on your shoulder. “Yeah?”
“If you’ll have me, of course. Obviously gotta take care of… you know who, first.” You cringe, thinking it’ll surely ruin the mood.
“Can say his name you know, he’s not Voldemort.”
You giggle, snuggling back into her. “Just don’t wanna. Don’t wanna hear about that man ever again.” You smile, pressing the fat of your cheek into her small bust.
“I’m down for that.”
You let your eyes grow heavier, and when you’re silent for a few minutes — Ellie thinks you’ve fallen asleep. She smiles, in disbelief at the way things have turned out before turning her head to Dina’s textbook on the desk that she was meant to deliver to her at some point. Oops.
When she turns back to you, she almost jumps— your owlish eyes blinking up at her.
“Ellie, would you say a hot dog is a sandwich?”
She gapes down at you. “Hello?“
“Well I was talking about sandwiches earlier so now it’s on my mind!”
“Oh man, now we’re gonna have to argue. Who the hell said hot dogs are sandwiches?”
The two of you laughed, launching into a sleepy, delirium fuelled debate — and the world outside seemed to be held on pause. Maybe the reality of things would settle in tomorrow, but for now — you would just enjoy each others presence like you’d wanted to since the first time you’d met. This time, with no obstacles.
3K notes · View notes
delulustuff · 3 months
Text
Skz love language
acts of service:
Chan, Minho & Seungmin
You would receive the absolute princess treatment !!
For them act of service is about more than doing household chores..
It's really about going after a much more emotionally subtle feeling where they give you the feeling that you can trust them to have your back for the small and the big things.
• "You want breakfast" ? Already done.
• You’re cold ? No problem, they’ll give you their jacket/sweater.
• Too exhausted from school/work ? Don’t worry they got you.
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physical touch:
Felix, Changbin & Chan
no explanation needed hehe.
The literal cuddle bears in skz !!
Kissing, hugging, holding hands, and sex are all ways of showing love through the physical touch love language.
• You’re out in public? You will always have an arms around your waist or shoulder
• They’d cuddle you to sleep
•Clingyyyy
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gift giving:
Hyunjin, Felix & I.N
Hear me out they would SPOIL you !!!
They would pay special attention on big events like birthdays or anniversaries as well as gifting you little things at random times just to see your cute smile again.
•They‘d remember the little things you once mentioned just to gift it to you the next day..
•would surprise you with a trip to a place you’ve always wanted to go.
•Alsooo we’re talking about Louis Vuitton, Alexander McQueen & Versache Ambassadors here.. I‘m pretty sure they’d gift you some of the freebie’s and little presents they receive every few times.
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words of affirmation:
I.N, Han & Hyunjin
For them I just feel like they would sleepily whisper sweet nothings to you in bed before falling asleep and as well would enjoy receiving some praises and affirmations back.
on busy schedules or before comebacks they would leave behind cute letters for you on how much they love and miss you.
•"I‘m so greatful, you’re mine"
•little love notes 💌
•cute random text messages to make you smile throughout the day
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quality time:
Seungmin, I.N, Felix, Hyunjin & Minho
(literally all of them tho😭)
For them it’s important to live in the moment and to enjoy the presence.
When you're with them, they’d appreciate it, if you put your phone down and focus on them.
They would also invite you to regular date nights, and spend the day with meaningful activities.
•deeptalks & stargazing
•cooking together
•making cute memories & discussing future plans
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332 notes · View notes
allywthsr · 5 months
Text
FIRST SNOW | (l.norris)
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summary: your toddlers first snow
wordcount: 1.9k words
pairing: dad!landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: kids
notes: I need dad Lando 🥹, what do you think about this?
advent calendar
It was the beginning of December and by some miracle, it snowed. Almost two years ago, you gave birth to your son, Louis, with Lando by your side. He was holding your hand, feeding you ice cubes when you wanted to eat and supported you in the best way possible during the long hours of Labour. Last year Louis was not even a year old and he was mostly sitting somewhere, playing with his toy cars that daddy had gifted him, from his last gp, so he didn’t really notice the white landscape last year, but this year was different.
This year, he woke you up with his hands banging on the big floor to ceiling window and blabbering the word: ’snow‘ continuously. He was a little rascal and knew how to focus the attention on him, but just like his father, he liked to be in the background and figure out stuff for himself.
So when Lando woke up and saw his son being fascinated by the snow, he knew he had to make it memorable. He shook you awake and you woke up, startled, ”Lando, what’s up?“
”It snowed! Louis is up and all excited, look at him.“
You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at your little brown curly haired boy. From the beginning he was a Lando copy, there was no denying that he was his child. For a second you wondered if you he had anything from you, because he seemed like Lando, but as the time was running, he turned more into a mini you. He may look like Lando, but his personality was all you. When he didn’t get something he wanted, he had the same facial expression as you have, Lando knew that all to well, when he forgot your chocolate again or he didn’t take the trash out, as he promised.
”I can’t wait to clean the window again, just like last week. Why does your son always have to touch the windows like that?“
”My son?“
”When he‘s of doing mischievous things, he‘s yours“, you smiled at Lando. That obviously wasn’t true, you loved Louis no matter what he did.
”Louis, do you want to join mummy and me on the bed?“
With his naked little feet he waddled towards the bed and held his arms up, he wasn’t tall enough yet to climb up the bed, but he was trying. Lando quickly grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him on the mattress, he immediately laid down between you two.
”Can you believe he‘s almost two?“
”He grew up so fast.“
Louis was cuddling with Lando while everyone enjoyed the silence, he was laying on top of his daddy and snuggled closer to his chest, he was super clingy during the mornings, it was your favorite sight to see.
After a few minutes, Louis had enough and tried to get off of Lando, he carefully sat him down on the ground and he ran back to the window. With his fingers he pointed to the snow and kept saying ’go‘. With a sigh you both peeled out of the warm, comforting bed, you loved having a child, but sometimes you wished you could stay in bed until noon again.
”Let’s get you ready, shall we? Mummy can change into her winter clothes already“, he looked at you and waited for you to confirm that with a nod. You quickly did so and kissed Lando’s lips and Louis head, they disappeared in the hallway and you went to the en-suite bathroom to at least wash your face before you changed into some warm clothes. You could hear the giggles from your two boys even in the bedroom, you loved how happy Louis was, especially with Lando. He was his hero. Whenever you couldn’t join a race and stayed home, you were watching every session with Louis and he blabbered ’da da da da da da‘ on repeat. His words were still limited but he learned something new every day, just yesterday he learned how to fist-bump Lando, something both of them were proud of.
His first word, to no surprise, was ’car‘ but once he said it, the c turned into a d and now it was ’dar‘, no matter how hard you tried to get him to say it correctly again, it was no use. Lando was super happy his first word was car and he told it everyone, whether they wanted to hear it, or not. Everyone loved Louis, you had taken him to a few races, but only ones that were near to home and he was never put in the direct spotlight. It wasn’t like you hid him from the world, but he didn’t need to be photographed and put on the internet. He loved sitting in Lando’s ’dar‘ and playing around with Jon or Oscar, McLaren had organized an extra room only for Louis, so when stuff got too much and he needed time to calm down, he was able to do so, in his room. In there was a comfy couch, blankets, pillows and a lot of toys. They even put up a small ball-pit in the corner and Louis loved it, the balls were thrown around the room and smashed against each other. The whole grid was hypnotized whenever Louis was around, drivers came around just to see the little Lando and play with him for a while, giving you and Lando a small time out.
But back to where we were.
Lando came in to the bedroom with Louis on his hip, when you pulled your hoodie over your head.
”Can you put his jacket and stuff on? I want to get ready too.“
With a nod you opened your arms and Louis did the same, signaling he wants to be held by you. You two went to the entrance hall, where his jacket and his shoes were waiting for him, he wasn’t the biggest fan of getting dressed, but he endured it, probably too excited for the snow.
”Do you have your winter jacket?“, Lando screamed from your closet.
”Yes, baby!“
You pulled a hat on Louis's head and wrapped a scarf around his neck, before putting on gloves on his little hands. You did the same for yourself, so you were prepared for the cold that was about to hit you when you opened the door.
Lando came running down the stairs and stared at the sight in front of him, you sitting on the floor while your son is excitingly ’jumping‘ around, it wasn’t jumping, more like stomping his shoe-covered feet on the ground.
”Family, you ready?“, he said after putting on his jacket and shoes.
Louis was blabbering the word ’yes‘ over and over again, before lifting his arms towards Lando, indicating he wanted to be picked up.
”Do we want to just go out in the backyard or should we walk to my parents and ask for a sleigh? Maybe we can have breakfast with them.“
”Let’s go to your parents, baby, good idea. Louis, you ready to see nana and pops?“
He clapped his hands and put his head on Lando’s shoulder, Lando kissed him on his cheek and you opened the door. A wave of cold air blew you in the face, and you looked at Louis, who was looking confused.
”Is that cold sweetheart?“
Louis nodded and pointed to the ground where everything was white. Lando walked with him to the front yard, ”Do you want to go down?“, Louis clung to his daddy, ”I‘ll take that as a no.“
With a quiet giggle, Lando kissed his cheek once more, Louis was just as shy as Lando was as a kid, it was adorable.
”But Louis, look, it’s snow!“, you bend down and picked up some snow to show it to Louis, his small fingers slowly touched it. With his gloves on, he couldn’t notice the coldness, so Lando pulled off one of his gloves and he touched it again. Quickly he pulled his hand away, when he noticed how cold it was, he started blabbering with Lando, probably complaining about how cold it is.
Lando put on his glove again and put him down, Louis was walking around the front yard and Lando held out his hand, which Louis took.
Slowly you three made the way to Lando’s parents, who were living just a five-minute walk away from your house. You loved Lando with Louis, how gentle he was, how patient, was the five-minute walk, ten minutes longer because Louis couldn’t walk as fast? Yes. Did Lando annoy that? Absolutely not. Normally Lando was impatient, but he learned with Louis that he had to take things slow.
When you arrived at the house, Cisca opened the door and was excited to see you three, Louis was walking towards her, he was excited to see his grandma again. She lifted him on her hip and kissed both of you on the cheek as a greeting, together with Louis she walked to the living room, where Adam was sitting.
”The future Formula One racer!“, Adam opened his arms and Cisca was giving Louis to him. Louis was happy about that and kept talking to Adam, sure it sounded more like gibberish but he was getting better with the talking every day.
”We wanted to ask if we could borrow the sleigh and pull him across the backyard?“
”Of course honey, it’s in the shed somewhere.“
”I‘ll go look“, Lando got up and walked to the backyard.
Cisca started to talk with you about everything, when Louis ran to the window, ”da da!“.
”Yes, Daddy is outside, should we join him?“
He nodded and you opened the glass door, and he ran to Lando. Lando crouched down and opened his arms, in which Louis ran, lifting him up and holding him on his hip.
”That’s a sleigh, if you sit on it, we can pull you across here, what do you think?“
”Sleigh!“
”I think he likes the idea, Lando“, you giggled at your son's antics of pointing to different things that were covered in snow.
Lando put him on the sleigh, grabbed the handles, and carefully towed him through the white backyard. It was the sweetest thing, how Louis's face lit up when he felt the movements of the sleigh and saw it gliding over the snow, you couldn’t resist taking a few pictures and videos.
After two big rounds, Lando stopped to see if he had enough, but the shouts out of Louis‘ mouth with the word: ’more‘ showed that he definitely had not enough, so Lando kept pulling him through the snow, and with every round he grew more tired. He may be a high performance athlete, but pulling your almost two-year-old son on a sleigh through thick snow is still tiring.
So after three more rounds, Lando tried to distract Louis by building a snowman, which worked. At first, he was skeptical about why daddy was rolling around a ball of snow, but once Lando put the second ball on top of the first, Louis was sold. He helped rolling the third ball around and couldn’t stop laughing when Lando placed sticks as his arms, and little rock’s as his face, when Cisca brought a carrot outside, he was almost falling over how hard he was laughing and soon all of you were laughing at how much fun Louis had during his first snow. Oh, how you couldn’t wait for next year.
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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months
Text
BMWB
Summary: an anon request - “can you do a one shot where y/n is in the band and for some reason Harry and her don't get along and they end up fucking?? Like not enemies to lovers but more or like enemies to fw because they're so good at it ??? Pleaseeeee”
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, lots of arguing, oral (both), fingering, biting, hair pulling, filth
My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.
MAJOR ASSHOLE FRAT BOY HARRY
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"One, two, three, four." Harry screams into the mic and bobs his head to the music. I strum my base, close my eyes and tilting my head as I feel the music.
My eyes suddenly snap open when Harry starts to yell, "Stop. Stop. Fuckin' stop." I lay my fingers over the edge of my bass and sigh, "What now, Styles?"
I know he's talking about me, he's always talking about me.
He scoffs and shakes his head, "Are you even here with us right now? Because the he only thing you should be focusing on is getting the beat of the fucking song right. Jesus christ."
I roll and shut my eyes and take a deep breathe, "Harry. Chill out man. She was doing fine." Niall says setting down his guitar, "Maybe you need to ta-"
Harry cuts him off, "Maybe you just need to shut the fuck up."
"If you don't want me to pla-"
Zayn cuts me off, "No, y/n. You're the best bass player we've had, Harry's just having a bad day."
Harry shifts his weight to his left leg and puts his hands on his hips, "You know wh- fine. Take a fucking break, all of you."
He walks off the stage and throws his water bottle.
"What the fuck is his issue lately?" Louis says walking up, "Don't take it personal, y/n. Harry can be.." he trails off his words.
I sigh, "Egomaniacal? Asshole-ish? Cocky? I can stand here all day."
They laugh and I look over my shoulder, "I'll try and talk to him. If the screaming at each other stops call the coroner because I've strangled him with his mic cord."
I set my bass down gently and walk in the direction Harry went.
I look left and right and walk down the hall. I stop as I see Harry leaning against the wall. He turns his head towards me and looks away with an eye roll, "What do you want?"
"I want to know why you're all of a sudden coming at me?" I cross my arms, "We were fine and now yo-"
"Just go practice because you obviously need it." He pushes off the wall and walks towards me. I grab his arm as he goes past me, "No. I don't obviously need that, Harry. What I need, is for you to tell me what the fuck your issue is."
He laughs and tilts his head back, "Like I'd ever talk to you about what's bothering me. Go the fuck back to the stage. We have a show to get perfect."
He pulls his arm away and scoffs, "Don't ever fucking touch me again."
"Don't ever fucking yell at me again." I shoot back.
He stop waking and turns around, "Oh? So now you're the boss? Telling me what I can and can't do?" He walks up to me, "Let me tell you one thing, sweetheart." He leans in, his face an inch away from mine, "I'm the boss. You do what I say when I say it, hmm?"
I roll my eyes at him, "Mm. We'll see."
I step around him and walk back to stage. Before I enter back, I look over at him and smile, "You coming? We have a show to make perfect." I smirk and push the door open.
"Is he dead?" Louis asks with a slight laugh.
I shake my head, "Not yet." I pick my bass up and gently strum the strings. Harry walks in and everyone goes quiet.
"Let's get this fucking right." He says just loud enough for us to hear. He walks up and takes the mic off the stand and looks around at us, making sure we're ready.
"One, two, three, four."
——
"You guys are on in five." Liam, the crew manager says. I nod and finish applying my lipstick, "Okay."
"Don't fuck this up." Harry says leaning against the door frame to my dressing room. I look at him in the mirror, "Is that you threatening me or demanding me?"
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "Sometimes I just wanna-" he clenches his jaw and tilts his head, "Nope. Not happening."
"What?" I turn around and lean against the table, "You wanna what, Styles?"
He stares at me, and in that moment, if looks could kill. I'd be dead.
He walks up to me and brings a hand up, his thumb gently pulls down my lower lip, "Sometimes I just wanna gag you with my cock so you shut the fuck up for once."
He drops his hand, "Like I said, don't fuck this up."
He leaves the room before I have anything to say, which I don't. Harry just left me absolutely speechless.
"Hey, y/n. Let's go. We're up next." Louis knocks on the door, "You okay?"
I blink and turn around quickly, wiping away the smudge of lipstick Harry's thumb left, "Yeah. Coming."
——
The whole show, I was on edge.
On edge because of what Harry said.
On edge because he looks so fucking hot in that tight Green Bay jersey.
On edge because he kept looking over at me any chance he got.
On edge because he was fucking with me.
We finish the song and the crowd goes wild. Screaming for Harry. Screaming for me. Screaming for all of us.
"Give it up for the amazing band behind me." Harry says while clapping, "Niall, Louis, Zayn.." there's a pause before he says my name and the boys glance towards me then look back at Harry, "And y/n who actually did very well tonight."
The crowd screams and I force a smile and wave.
I shook a glare back at Harry and he smirks behind his mic, "We're going to give you guys one last song and then we're off to Phoenix!"
Harry walks around stage as we start to play the final song of the night, "Let's go!"
——
We exit the stage and I immediately walk up to Harry and shove his shoulder, "What the fuck was that?"
He cocks his jaw and smirks, "I know you didn't just shove me."
I go to shove him again and Zayn grabs my arms, "Settle down." I pull my arms and he gets louder, "Settle down, easy y/n."
"Why would you fucking say that?" I yell, "I actually did well tonight? What the fuck Harry!?"
He chuckles and shakes his head. He motions for Zayn to let me go and he puts his arm around my shoulder, "Let's take a walk and talk about this."
I push his arm off of me, "What so you ca-"
"Now, now." He cuts me off, "Just come on." We walk down the hall to the door with his name on it, "In."
I roll my eyes and push the door open. I walk in and turn around, ready to start losing my absolute shit on him but he holds his hand up, "I get under your skin."
"Yeah the fuck you do." I cross my arms, "And you do it on purpose."
He walks over and pours himself a drink, "Because you make it so easy."
"By what? Giving you a reaction?" I huff, "Do you want me to ignore you? Quit the band?"
"Why would you quit the band?" He asks bringing the glass to his lips. He lowers it and shakes his head, "You're the best bass player I've had, y/n. I don't want you to quit."
His words confuse me and I know my face shows it.
"He sits down and rests one arm straight out on the back of the couch and brings a leg up over his other, "Sit."
I find myself always listening to his stupid little commands so I shake my head, "No. I'll stand." He chuckles, "Hmm. Okay. Suit yourself, sweetheart."
I roll my eyes, "What do you want, Harry." I state, "Because if you're just going to sit there and-"
"You. I want you."
"Excuse me?" I laugh, "Did you just say you- you want me?"
He nods, "Yeah. I believe that's what I said."
"You're not serious."
"But I am." He finishes his drink and stands up, "You see, y/n. I really don't like you, for reasons I'm not open to telling you just yet." He sets his glass down and walks over to me.
I stay silent and watch him as he gets closer, "We have our issues that, well, the whole band can see, right?"
I shrug, "I-"
"Shut up." He says louder. His voice goes back to normal and he walks around me, his chest presses against my back and he moves my hair off my neck.
My breathing gets faster and I bite my lip.
"There so much stress while touring, right?" His fingers drag up my shoulder and neck.
I nod.
"I want you to be my little stress reliever." He leans down and licks up my neck, "No strings attached."
I shut my eyes tight. Fighting off every urge to turn around and give into him.
He's an asshole.
He makes your days a living hell.
He gets under your skin in the most annoying ways possible.
All the thoughts run spin around in my head and I let out the breathe I've been holding.
"What do you say? Huh. We help each other out and when you piss me off.. I get to fuck my anger out and fuck that annoying little attitude out of you."
I want to say no so bad. I want to turn around and slap some sense into him, but the idea of being Harry's fuck buddy is just so overpowering.
"You can speak now, sweetheart."
"Y-yes."
"Good answer. Now get on your knees." He places his hands on my shoulder and pushes me down. I land on my knees and bite my lip, looking up at him as he walks around to stand in front of me.
He starts to undo the belt on his jeans and he gives me a smirk.
"What?" I ask as I tuck hair behind my ear.
"Do I make your nervous?" He chuckles, "No need to be nervous."
I roll my eyes, "Please. If anyone should be nervous here, it's you."
"How's that?" He asks shoving his jeans down, "I'm not nervous one bit. Excited actually."
I raise my eye brows and laugh slightly, "Why because you're about to shut me up?"
"Exactly." He pushes his boxers down and pumps his cock in his hand a few times before pushing the head of it against my lips, "Open for me."
I part my lips and he pushes his cock in, letting out a groan.
I wrap my lips around his cock and swirl my tongue. I work my way down, getting him wet enough, teasing him slightly before I give him exactly what he wants.
I sink his cock into my throat and he moans.
I shut my eyes and control my breathing through my nose before I bob my head, gagging around his cock.
"Ah." He moans out, "It's nice to hear the sound of you choking on my cock rather than you speaking."
I ignore his words and continue to fuck my throat with him, working him up until he places a hand on my head, "A-alright. We can come back to this. I wanna see that ass of yours bent over."
I pull off and wipe my chin off with my wrist. He pulls me over towards the couch and slips his shirt off. My eyes flicked up and down his toned, tattooed torso and he grips the hem of my shirt pulling it up over my head.
"You know, y/n." His eyes move up and down my bra covered chest, "You are pretty fuckin' hot."
I smirk and unbutton my jeans, "So are you."
He smirks and watches as I take my jeans off, kicking my shoes out of the way. We both stand there naked and his hands reach out to explore my body.
I close my eyes as he leans in, sucking random spots on my neck. I moan out quietly and bring my hands up to his arms.
Wow, he isn't yelling at me to not touch him.
His hand moves down and pushes between my legs. His finger slides between my folds, "You're fuckin' soaked, sweetheart."
I part my thighs and dig my nails into his skin as he circles my clit, gradually applying a harder pressure.
I whimper and tilt my head back. Harry kisses and sucks spots under my chin and jaw line.
"Harry." I moan out quietly, "Fuck me."
He chuckles against my skin, "Are you demanding?"
I bite my lip, debating on what I should say before my mouth speaks on its own, "What if I am?"
He sighs and pulls his hand away from between my legs, "Then you get more time without my cock in that desperate cock hungry pussy of yours."
He walks over and gets another drink, "I'm going to enjoy this drink. Sit down and, oh I don't know." He shrugs, "Convince me that you're deserving of my cock going into your pussy."
I chew the inside of my lip and nod, "Okay."
I sit down on the couch and smirk as I bring my legs up and spread them. He pauses and stares at my open legs. I bring my hand down and rub circles onto my clit, moaning.
I need Harry to touch me.
"Afraid you won't get me to cum?" I tease, "Am I going to have to fake it with you then do it myself later?"
He roughly sets his glass down on the table and stands up, "There you go again.. running your mouth."
I bite my lip and sink my fingers into my pussy, letting out a loud gasp, "What? Im just asking questions."
He scoffs, "You have no idea."
"Mm. I think I do." I tilt my head back and moan. A smile grows on my lips as I feel the couch sink down.
"You'll be begging me to fuck you after this." He moves my hand and replaces it with his own, his rings roughly hitting my skin as his fingers pump in and out.
I arch my back off the couch and moan, "Fuck."
He shifts back and bends down, attaching his lips to my clit. I let out a gasp and put a hand on his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
He moans against me and that causes me to moan. I clench my walls around his fingers as I feel myself approaching my orgasm.
My eyes roll back and I smile as he did exactly what I wanted him to do.
He pulls his fingers out and licks up my pussy. He pulls away and moves up, rubbing the head of his cock against my clit, "That didn't seem fake to me."
I smirk and my mouth opens as he shoves his cock into me without warning, "Fuck." He smirks and tilts his head as he pulls out and thrusts back in.
He grips my hips tight and fucks me. His lips part as his eyes shit and a moan escapes his lips, "Shit, y/n."
I grab his wrists and arch my back, "Harry." I whimper, "Fuck."
He leans down, pressing his lips to mine as he continues thrusting. I drag my nails up his back with one hand as I pull myself to desperately cling to him with the other.
He gently bites my bottom lip and moans.
I tilt my head back and he kisses up and down it.
For a moment I would have thought I wasn't having sex with the asshole I shoved in the hallway, but with Harry who actual gives a shit.
He moans against my neck and pushes his cock deep into me, "This pussy is mine." He whispers in a deep, raspy voice.
"Yours." I breathe out, "Yours."
He goes back to thrusting and attacking my neck. I wrap an arm around his neck and sink my nails into his shoulder as I cum around his cock.
"Fuck." He groans lowly, "You feel so fucking good."
I whimper in his ear, "You fuck so good."
He smirks and kisses my cheek and over to my lips. Our lips move in perfect sink and he pulls out and I can feel his cum shoot out into my stomach.
He continues to kiss me, his hand pulls my hips closer to his. He slowly leans back and looks at me, "Who's pussy is this?"
I roll my eyes and smirk, "Yours."
"Damn right it is." He leans up and looks around, "Um.." he gets up and grabs a towel, "Here." He tosses the towel down next to me as he cleans himself off.
"Thanks." I wipe myself off and sit up, I lean over and grab my clothes, slipping my panties and jeans back on, "So what does this mean?" I smirk and laugh.
He shakes his head and smirks, "Nothing more than band mates with benefits."
——
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zepskies · 2 months
Text
A Wish to Build a Dream On
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader
Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.
AN: Welcome back to the Espresso-verse! This is set in 14.13: “Lebanon,” of course, but chronologically in the storyverse, it sits between Show Me and In Bad Weather.
Song Inspo: The story title was inspired by “A Kiss to Build a Dream On” by Louis Armstrong, but the real song inspiration for this is “Come Back Down” by Lifehouse.
Word Count: 7k~
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Spiciness/smuttish, angst, hurt/comfort, hint of body insecurity, and feels. 
Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
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Sometimes, even the mundane in a two-year relationship can become new. And not in a good way. 
You and Dean are getting ready for bed, taking turns brushing your teeth. When you’re done, he comes in behind you at the sink and starts up his routine.
As you go to look for the moisturizer you pretend he doesn’t borrow from your nightstand, you watch him from the corner of your eye. Even dressed down in his loose shirt and pajama pants, he seems tired, and tense.  
Maybe because he’s been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for an entire month. 
You know Dean hasn’t been sleeping well, if at all. Now, he seems to be anticipating another fitful night. It doesn’t sit well with you to see the tension in his shoulders, the lines around his eyes that aren’t from laughing.
You wait until he slips into his side of the bed. Then you turn over and sidle up against him. You prop your elbow against his pillow, so you can look down on him with a smile. His brows twitch upwards.
“Well, hey,” he says. His arm settles around your waist under the covers. You stroke his cheek.
“Hey,” you reply. Though you don’t ask him if he’s all right. You already know the answer. Instead, you dip down for a kiss.
At first it’s just a sweet meeting of lips. You part from him softly, letting your thumb drag back and forth across his prickly cheek. He breathes in deeply and allows himself to savor the touch.
You dive back in again for a deeper taste, finding minty freshness with your tongue. He hums in response. His hold tightens on your waist, while your fingers drift down his neck, down his chest over his shirt. And then, they slip under the worn-out waistband of his sweatpants.
He groans deep in his throat when you stroke up and down the full length of him with a practiced hand. His knee bends on reflex, and he sucks in a breath as pleasure stirs low inside him.
But he stops you, grabbing your wrist gently, but firm.
You break the kiss in confusion. Dean’s eyes are still closed, brows furrowed while he takes deep breaths, as if he’s trying to pull himself back together. Or maybe, maintain a level of self-control.
His green eyes open and find yours in apology.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling your hand out of his pants. “Just uh…not really in the mood.”
You lift up the covers and glance down at the half-pitched tent in his pants with a raised brow.
“You sure about that?” you ask.
He stays quiet, which starts to make you suspicious. You let the covers drop and rest a hand on his chest, where his heart beats at a ticked-up pace.
“It’s been over a month, baby,” you point out. “I know there’s…a lot going on, but this isn’t like you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired,” he claims.
You can understand that, to an extent, but intuition tells you that there’s something deeper here. Beyond the lack of intimacy, you’ve been starting to realize just how distant your boyfriend has been with you, even after getting him back from Michael.
Dean doesn’t…touch you anymore. And not just in this bed. As a matter of fact, him holding you right now is some of the closest affection he’s given you in days.
Despite that thought, he actually surprises you by covering your hand on his chest and squeezing your fingers. Likely he’s seen the disappointment and concern across your face.
“Come on. You think I only want you around for sex?” he jokes. It gets you to smile, however slightly.
“Call it a perk of this little arrangement,” you say in a dry tone. 
“Ooh, an arrangement. Sounds kinky,” he quips, with a curve of his lips. 
You smirk and take back your hand from under his. Carding your fingers through his hair, you dip down and start to kiss his neck. 
“I miss you,” you whisper against his warm skin. “But I also want to help you take your mind off it all… Just let me distract you for a while.” 
His eyes briefly close as he lets out a shaky breath, but he stops you for real this time. He holds your cheek and guides you away. His rejection hurts, making your chest sting, but his eyes implore you to let him explain.
“That’s just it,” he says. “I can’t. I can’t risk it.”
Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t lose control,” Dean says. His tone is laced with grit and strain. “Michael’s in there, rattling around. He’s either pacing all damn day, or pounding on the walls.”
Dean presses a hand between his eyes, as if that’ll stop the headache that’s already forming. It’s bad enough that the archangel was controlling him for so long, rooting deep in his head and opening every door and shady corner. Thoughts, memories, private moments.
Now, Dean doesn’t know how much Michael sees of the outside world. It’s another reason he’d rather not heed every desire he has to roll you underneath his body and fuck you deep into the mattress. It’s why he hasn’t let himself touch you as often as he wants, as he craves.
Because the truth is, he’s scared. Scared of what might happen if he gets too distracted.
“Sometimes I think I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he admits to you, his throat tightening.
He glances back up at you, and finds you weeping. Your lower lip trembles. Guilt hits Dean harder between the ribs when he realizes what he’s been putting you through. What he’s still putting you through. He cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says.
You shake your head. “It’s not just that we can’t…it’s that I can’t help you,” you reply, with a tremble in your voice. “I can’t do anything.”
Dean doesn’t know what to say to you, but he knows what he can do. He wraps his arms more securely around you and pulls you against him. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck and try to calm yourself by taking long, even breaths.
“I wish I could take this from you,” you confess.
He sighs. “I don’t.”
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The next morning, Sam and Dean catch a lead on a fellow hunter who was killed by a supernatural artifacts dealer. They mean to track down the dealer.
Instead of going with them, you stay at the bunker and continue to research a way to extract and capture an archangel from a human host. 
Dean doesn’t question your decision; he’s grateful, but still feeling guilty about last night. And part of him doesn’t even know how to move forward with you right now. 
It’s just as well, because you’re not too sure of how to act around Dean either. Your heart breaks every time you look at him, and it was hard to even meet his eyes at breakfast this morning.
Mary is on a hunt nearby as well, but you don’t have the heart to join her when she calls you around noon. After you hang up with her, you realize that you’re feeling sorry for yourself, when the one who’s really suffering is Dean.
For a moment, you take a break from the old book in front of you. Your back is twinging from being hunched over in your research for hours on end in the library. You rub your eyes and let out a sigh, before you lift your gaze heavenward. You doubt your grandmother can hear you up there while she relives her greatest hits, but at this point, you’ll try anything.
Please, you think in Spanish, and even pray. Give me strength. Give him strength.
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Sam and Dean return to the bunker after “taking care” of the scumbag dealer. They bring back a number of artifacts, which you’ll have to help them sort through. They pile it all onto the War Room table. 
But they show you one item in particular: the Baozhu, one of eight ancient Chinese treasures. In other words, it’s a pearl that grants your heart’s desire.
Now, in general, you tend to be wary about hoodoo, but Sam has already convinced Dean that it could work. He could wish Michael gone.
They’re both so earnest that you’re willing to go along with it…and let Dean give it a try.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom?” Sam asks him. “Or wait for Cas?”
“No,” Dean replies. “If this mojo works, great. If it doesn’t, then why get their hopes up?”
You agree with that point. In fact, you almost wish you could be Mary or Castiel right now.
Dean notes the look on your face, and he knows you well enough to read what you might be thinking. He turns his attention back to the pearl with determination.
He takes the pouch from Sam’s hand and doesn’t know what to do with it at first, but after little coaching from Sam, Dean takes the pearl in his hand, closes his eyes, and concentrates on his “heart’s desire.”
Michael outta my friggin’ head, he thinks.
The lights in the bunker start to flicker. You and Sam look up in wariness as the magic from the wish knocks out the electricity for a moment, casting the room into darkness mixed with a red glow from the emergency lights.
Sam turns when he spots a shrouded figure out of the corner of his eye—almost as tall as him, a large threatening frame. Sam swings a punch, but the intruder bats at his stomach, then his face with what looks like a crowbar. He goes down hard.
Just as you turn your head, Dean steps in next and gets an elbow to the chin for his trouble, then a swift kick in the stomach that sends him across the room with Sam. The intruder wracks his crowbar, which as it turns out, is actually a shotgun.
“Don’t you move,” he says.
He must not have seen you in the dark. It gives you the opportunity to come up behind him with one of the emergency handguns Dean had taped under the table for exactly this purpose. You tuck the safety back with a click.
“Drop it,” you demand.
The man pauses. He knows you’re there, but he doesn’t yet lower his weapon.
And the lights come back on.
Sam and Dean’s eyes widen when they realize who they’re faced with.  
“Dad?” Dean says incredulously.
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John Winchester is just as confused to be in the bunker as his sons are to see him alive, and in the bunker. For John, he thinks it’s 2003. Sam should be at school in Palo Alto, while John’s been hunting with Dean.
John is understandably shocked when Sam tells him that sixteen years have passed.
“I think we summoned you,” Sam says, after he and Dean pick themselves up from the ground.
John takes a beat to try and process, but he has too many questions.
“You boys better tell me what’s going on right now,” he says. Though he turns and notices you after you slip your gun back into the waistband of your jeans and draw closer to Dean, laying a hand on his arm. A subtle look passes between you two.
You good? yours says.
I think so, Dean’s replies. The exchange doesn’t go unnoticed.
“And you are?” John asks. His gaze is focused on you, and the directness of his tone somewhat takes you by surprise. You never thought you would meet John Winchester.
But after you tell him your name, Dean rests a hand at the small of your back.
“She’s my girlfriend,” he says.
Intrigue sparks in John’s eyes, and he nods in response. His mind is probably buzzing with too much information to levy any kind of politeness your way, but it still leaves a tense, awkward atmosphere in its wake.
Sam tries to bridge it by suggesting you all sit at the long table in the War Room to go over what John’s missed. He agrees, though he requests a strong drink first.
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Explaining what’s really happening to the older, yet still incredibly spry hunter takes a while. You all do it with a bottle of Jack Daniels split four ways.
“So, you saved the world?” John asks. His whiskey glass is in his hands, and he raises a finger in a “So you mean to tell me” gesture.
“More than once,” Dean admits.
“Then it’s all true. God, the Devil, you boys smack in the middle,” John says. You can see him working through all this, but also with fatherly pride coming through. It would make you smile, if this situation wasn’t so goddamn weird.
“Now you all live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid,” he continues, and this time, he includes you in his gaze. All you can do is nod with a feeble smile.
Sam and Dean also confirm his summary.
“And you’ve done this whole…time travel thing before?” he asks.
“A few times,” Dean nods. “Actually, our grandfather, your dad…he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know you’re finally here.”
Dean has told you about Henry Winchester, and how John had thought the man abandoned him when he was a child. But now, he seems to understand.
“Right, Man a’ Letters,” he nods.
“Yeah, we’re uh, we’re legacies,” Sam says, giving his father a smile. “Because of you.”
John has to smile back.
The three of them continue to talk for a while, and you mostly keep to yourself. Truth be told, you’re feeling a bit out of place in this moment.
The John you’ve heard stories about is a gruff ex-marine with a “give ‘em hell” attitude. This man has a solid presence, and a gruff voice not unlike Dean’s, but all you see in him is both pride and wonder at everything his sons are telling him about this world he’s been thrust into.
After a little while more, Sam realizes he needs to call someone immediately: his mother.
John’s face falls into shock.
“Mary?” he says. His disbelieving eyes become tinged with hope. “She’s…she’s alive?”
Dean shares a quick look with Sam, who heads out of the room quick to find his phone.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s a long story, but uh…she’s back too,” Dean says, smiling. “Wait ‘til she sees you.”
John’s brows furrow. He looks down at his hands on the table, fighting emotion. You can’t help but feel for him. You notice the empty bottle of whiskey, and without meaning to, you fall into “caretaker mode.”
“Uh, John, you want some water? Or maybe a beer?” you ask, as you start to get up from your seat. Dean looks up at you with a measure of bemusement.
“Beer would be good, thanks,” John says, giving you a small, but sincere smile. Somehow that unbalances you even more, though you smile back.
“Okay, and while I’m at it I think I’d better start dinner,” you say. Mary doesn’t cook, really. Sam is a lost cause too. (The man can barely boil an egg.) So it’s often up to you and Dean to handle the food in this house…bunker…whatever.
Dean disrupts your thoughts by grasping your hand, hoping it’ll steady you.
“You don’t have to, baby,” he says. You perk up with a more genuine smile.
“Oh, I want to! Besides, you guys should keep talking. Catch up,” you say, gesturing between father and son. You squeeze Dean’s hand, then make your quick escape.  
Dean smirks and watches you go. John follows his son’s gaze, then looks back at him in amusement. 
“She a good cook?” he asks. 
Dean raises his brows. “Oh, just you wait. She makes this beef stew thing, ropa vieja? Ridiculous. And a pork roast like you wouldn’t friggin’ believe.”
John chuckles. “Latina, huh?” 
“Oh, yeah,” Dean grins.  
“Nice,” his father nods with another short laugh. But it evens out into a certain smile. “How long’ve you two been together?”
Dean mentally counts it back. You often calculate it from the first time he officially asked you out for a nice dinner here in town. He likes to count it from that very first night he finally got a taste of your sweet café con leche…in more ways than one.
“Two years and some change. Almost three,” he says. John gives a low whistle.
“Look at you,” he remarks. And he seems pleased, with a gleam in his eyes that warms Dean deep inside. “Good for you, son. Glad to see you’ve got someone to hold you down.”
Dean sobers at that. He glances down at his empty glass of whiskey.
“Yeah,” he says. “You don’t know how much.”
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It’s a good thing you went grocery shopping yesterday, or else you’d be shit out of luck trying to put something together for dinner. There happened to be a sale going on in the seafood section, so you find that you have everything you need to make a Spanish paella.
You get to chopping the onions, bell peppers, garlic, tomato, and parsley first before anything else. While that starts sautéing in the pan, you break out the chicken, shrimp, and mussels from their individually wrapped packages.
You continue according to the recipe you have in your mind’s eye—the one your grandma instilled in you. She’d learned it from her half-Spanish mother when she was a kid.
Cooking is one of those things that allows you to reset your mind. It’s like how Dean is when he sits down to tune up his car, or Sam when he reads a new book. You can just zero in and focus on the task at hand, and it allows you to put the rest of the chaos out of your head for a while. Plus, you just like feeding people.
Sometimes though, the task of whipping up a hot meal just gives you time to think. And right about now, you’re still reeling.
On one hand, you’re so happy for Sam and Dean. And of course for Mary, who’s about to get her entire world flipped upside down. You have so many questions for John Winchester…but not all of them would be pleasant.
You have to try to push that part down, for Dean’s sake. He’s just gotten his father back. He doesn’t need you adding even more onto his load.
There’s a knock on the open door of the kitchen that pulls you out of your thoughts. You raise your head and look over your shoulder. John is there with an empty beer bottle, which he raises in greeting.
You give him a small smile. “Hope you’re getting hungry.”
“With that smell, who wouldn’t?” he says, drawing near enough to lean against the counter next to you. He answers your unspoken question. “Dean’s lookin’ for some pictures to show me.”
You nod at that. “Yeah, he has a few good ones, and some are new. I’m sure you’ll like to see them.”
John nods and regards you with curiosity. He wants to know more about the woman in his son’s life, but he’s not too sure where to start.
“So you’re a hunter too?” he asks.
“Yep. Not for as long as Dean, but long enough,” you reply. It’s tinged with the knowledge that no hunter should’ve been as young as Dean when they started, but you keep that thought deep inside.
“How’d you two meet?” John asks.
Your lips twitch at a smile. You tell him the story of how you’d met Dean at a dirty bar in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Dean hadn’t realized you were a hunter at first when he watched you hustle some guy at pool.
He set you in his sights, flirted with you, and you probably would’ve let him take it further if you hadn’t stunned him with the knowledge that you, Sam, and Dean happened to be in town working the same case. From that day on, the three of you had become allies and friends.
You and Dean just hadn’t become you and Dean for a long time after that. Too long, if you were honest. But, it’s all worked out so far. This is the longest relationship both of you have been in, pretty much ever.
There’s a lull of silence that falls between you and John after you finish the story. It’s not altogether comfortable, and he realizes that when he watches you putter about the kitchen while you cook. You’re trying to busy yourself.
“This must be one hell of a strange day for you,” he says.
Your head perks up, and you have to smile wryly. “Our lives are built on strange.”
John’s chuckle concedes your point. But you look over at him thoughtfully and set down your wooden spoon.
“Could I, um…could I ask you something?” you ask.
He nods at you. “Sure.”
Maybe you shouldn’t, but you really can’t help yourself.
“We don’t know each other well,” you begin. “But, knowing what you know now, about Sam and Dean and everything they’ve gone through… If you could go back, would you change anything?”
John tilts his head at you, like he’s trying to read through the lines in your words. It reminds you of Sam.
“You mean, would I do things differently?” he asks. “From what point?”
You shake your head. “I don’t know. From the point in time you can remember, with Sam in college. Or maybe further back…from when they were kids.”
You try your best not to make it sound like a leading question, but you don’t think you’ve disguised it well enough. John stares back at you, as if the lines are now connecting in his mind.
He sees you're well-meaning. Despite your best efforts though, he knows you're accusing him of something. And he thinks you have some audacity.
He's somehow both taken aback, and amused by that fact. Trust Dean to be with a woman who goes for the jugular.
“Because you’ve been straight shootin’ with me, I guess I’ll shoot straight with you,” John replies. He sighs and wipes a hand over his bearded mouth, like you’ve seen Dean do at times when he’s tired, or anxious.
“A good part of me believes I did the best I could,” he says.
Your gaze falls; you don’t want him to see your real thoughts in your eyes.
“But,” he says, “If you're asking if I have regrets? ...Then you'd be right.”
You consider him then, for a moment. You find that you believe him. You begin to soften.
“Well, that’s something we have in common,” you reply. “But Sam and Dean are the best men I’ve ever known… So thank you.”
And you mean that. You are grateful for both of them. They became your family when you thought you had no one left.
John surprises you by shaking his head, smiling. “That’s what I wanted to say to you.”
You falter at that.
Me? you think. Why would he want to thank me?
Before you can truly digest his words, Dean comes into the kitchen, both to check on you and bring his dad the pictures he keeps in his nightstand. While he looks through them, John surreptitiously watches you and his son. 
Dean sidles up behind you and rests a hand along your hip. He peeks over your shoulder at what you’re cooking. You open the lid on the big pan of rice, chicken, and seafood, and he hums in delight at the smell of saffron that hits him.
“What’s that, paella?” he asks.
You give him an impressed look. “Very good. Here, it’s not quite ready yet, but try a bit.”
You put a shrimp and a bit of rice on the wooden spoon and raise it to his lips. Dean smiles and takes the proffered bite. He then moans in appreciation.
“Oh, that’s good,” he praises with his mouth full. “A bit spicy.”
“You like that though,” you tease.
Dean eyes you, and he chuckles. “Yeah, I do actually.”
John smiles to himself, both at the pictures of his boys throughout the years he missed, and at the glimpse he gets to see now.
You turn to him with another spoonful held out. “Want to try some, John?”
He obliges you by coming over and taking the spoon from your hand. He takes the bite, and his brows shoot up.
“Oh man, that’s got some kick to it,” he says.
“Too much?” you ask.
“Nah, it’s real good.”
Dean grins, but it soon dims as he realizes something.
“Ooh, what about dessert?” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Do we have anything?”
“Nope,” you reply. “Either we pick something up, or…I could make a flan.”
Dean’s grin kicks back in, full force. If there's one thing he's come to love in this world besides pie, it's your flan.
“But! For that I’ll need more ingredients,” you say, holding down a laugh at the look on your man’s face.
“Say no more,” he replies. “I’ll go on a grocery run. Just tell me what you need.”
You’re about to respond when a door creaks open down the hall. Mary hastens into the kitchen with Sam on her heels. When she sees her husband, her face falls into shock.
“John,” she breathes.
John's amusement gradually melts away, into watery-eyed emotion.
“My girl,” he says.
The two meet each other in the middle of the room. He holds her face, and she grips the front of his shirt with desperation. Their kiss is beautiful and tender…and then it’s more.
You and Dean share a wide-eyed look with Sam. The three of you quickly tip out of the room to the sounds of soft moans in your wake.  
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“Wow. I mean, this is crazy right?” Dean says. He gesticulates wildly with his hands as the three of you make your way down the hall. “The way they just…connected, like magnets.”
You turn to him with a knowing smile.
“Your parents are about to have a lot of reunion sex,” you tease. 
Both Sam and Dean grimace. Dean has a full body shiver and gives you a look.
“Thank you for that,” he says wryly. 
You laugh and try to soothe him with a hand down his arm, but he playfully shakes his head at you. You have mercy on the brothers and manage to stifle your laughter.
“Okay, so, dessert,” you say.
“Well, since you’re so graciously being our chef for tonight, you just relax,” Dean says. “Sam and I’ll go make a run. You just tell me what you need.”
You pause in the hallway and give a hum of suspicion. You’re not sure you trust him to get the right stuff. The last time you asked him to get very specific ingredients from the store, he did not, in fact, bring you what you needed. (Somehow, he thought regular garlic powder was the same as Adobo seasoning.)
He clocks that look of yours and rolls his eyes. “Come on, really? What am I, five years old? Just give me a list.”
You relent with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll text it to you. But if you need me to send you pictures of anything, just let me know.”
Dean’s lips kick up into a smirk. He leans in for a parting kiss on your cheek, but it’s just an excuse to whisper in your ear.
“Well, I’ll never say no to some pics,” he says. “Nudes, preferably.” 
He then laughs at your rosy blush and raised brows. Now you know he’s in a better mood.
“Just hurry up,” you reply, shaking your head. He keeps chuckling as he passes by you. A smile curves your lips, and you give into the urge to smack his ass on his way up the stairs.
Sam just sighs in amused resignation. He raises a hand to you in goodbye and follows his brother up to the garage. 
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Once they’re in the car, Sam finally unloads what he’s been holding onto all afternoon.
“Dean, how did this happen?”
“I mean, I don’t know. You said that the pearl gives you what your heart desires, right?” Dean says. “So, my heart desired… Look, I’ve wanted this, man. I’ve wanted this since I was four years old. Maybe having Mom back just brought it all back up.”
He’s not exactly sure how deep that “desire” was buried, but the pearl knew. Dean couldn’t believe how happy he was when he saw his dad again, got to tell him everything that he’d missed, getting to have him meet you. And seeing his dad with his mom again? Well, that was a child’s dream come true.
But Debbie Downer (AKA: his brother) looks concerned in the passenger seat.
“Okay, I know, and I love this too,” Sam says. “But messing with time—”
“No, no, no. Sam,” Dean says, raising a hand in protest as he drives.
“You know how this ends, Dean. Things change,” Sam tries to reason. Dean just shakes his head.
“Yeah, we got our family back together! I’ll take that change.”
“That’s not what I mean—”
“Stop. Just stop,” Dean says, in a tone that bodes no argument. “Look, can we just have one family dinner? Just one? Us—all of us together? That’s all I want. Can you just give me that?”
Sam’s lips purse. He knows it’s useless to argue with Dean when he gets like this, but Sam just can’t help the uneasy churning in his gut. It warns him that the other shoe has yet to drop on this spell.
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You’re checking on the food when Sam and Dean return from their trip. Except the way they come storming into the kitchen has you turning to them in alarm.
Dean grasps your arms and searches your face. His face is marred by fresh cuts and a bruise or two.
“You feeling all right?” he asks. “Do you think Sam is a turtleneck-wearing douchebag?”
“Dean, what?” you utter. You touch his bruised cheek lightly, wincing in sympathy when he does out of pain. “What happened?”
True to Sam’s gut, the wish changed more than bringing John Winchester back from 2003. They explain what they went through after getting the groceries you requested—namely getting attacked by Castiel and Zachariah at the local liquor store.
The latter of the two angels was supposed to be dead, while the other had no recollection of being friends with the Winchesters. Sam was supposed to be a hot-shot Steve Jobs wannabe lawyer, while Dean had his mugshot plastered all over town.
“I think it’s…a temporal paradox,” Sam says.
Now, you’re very alarmed.
“Are you kidding me?! What the hell are we gonna do?” you exclaim.
“About what?” John asks from the doorway. He’s no longer wearing his jacket, you notice, and his shirt is looking a bit rumpled and hastily buttoned at the top, but his gaze is serious, matching his sons.
After sharing another telling look, Dean takes the responsibility of explaining the situation to his father, while Sam goes to find his mother.
Dean and John go into the library to talk. He explains that pulling John out of his time is now making the current timeline self-correct. Meaning, everything and everyone is gradually adjusting to the change.
“Basically, uh, if you don’t go back,” Dean says. He hesitates on the words, but he forces himself to continue. “Sam never gets back into the life. And Mom, she…”
“What?” John asks.
“Well, without everything that we did, with God, the Darkness, Mom never comes back,” Dean explains, even though it’s killing him inside. “Sam thinks that she’ll just fade away.”
It hurts him still to see the understanding don on his dad’s face, along with a smile of resignation.
“Okay,” John agrees. “I mean, me versus your mom? That’s not even a choice.”
Dean nods at that, however belatedly.
“Dean…I never meant for this,” John says.
“Dad, we pulled you here—”
“No, son. My fight,” he says. He still thinks about his conversation with you earlier today. He thinks about how protective you seemed just by that question you asked—not just protective of Dean, but of Sam too.
“It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes,” John explains. “But now, you’re a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you.”
Dean takes that in; he feels a rush of warmth deep in his heart, even though he doesn’t know what to say.
“You and your girl…you two planning on settling down someday? Having a family?” John asks.
Dean quirks a smile. You two haven’t talk about…that. Any of that. In between all the shit you all keep landing in, he’s somehow never had those conversations with you. Maybe he should.
But not now. Not until Michael’s gone and dealt with.
“I don’t know if we’re the settling type, but either way…I have a family,” Dean replies. He can say that honestly, with a soft smile that reaches his eyes.
John smiles back.
“All right,” he says. “Just think about it then.”
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Dean once again finds you in the kitchen. You’ve gotten the plates, glasses, and silverware ready for dinner on the dining table.
“Hey, there’s only four plates on the table. We’re five,” Dean says.
You nod and close the oven back up. You’ve spent the past hour preparing the flan and just took it out of the oven. Hopefully it will have enough time to chill in the fridge.
You go to Dean and grasp the front of his gray flannel. In return, he holds you close by your arms.
“Listen, I thought it might be better if the four of you have dinner together. I’ll just eat here in the kitchen,” you say. Dean’s brows furrow, but you try to explain before he can start protesting. “You don’t have a lot of time left with your dad. This is the first time you’re getting to be together with your family like this. I just want to make sure you get the most out of it.”
Dean squeezes your arms and frowns down at you.
“You being there doesn’t take anything away from me being with them,” he says sternly. “And you’re part of my family. Part of our family. I’m not gonna have you eating in here by yourself like you’re a leper or something. Come on.”
He grabs your plate and the glass that you set aside on the counter, and he brings it to the table without letting you get a word in to stop him. You sigh, watching him go, but you also have to smile as the sting of tears burns in your eyes.
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Dinner is awkward and dour at first. You all can’t help but think of what’s to come at the end of the night—ending the spell, and sending John back along with it.
But after John sets the tone, encouraging them to be grateful for this moment, and not dreading the inevitable end, everyone’s able to relax. The rest goes off without a hitch. 
While Sam and Dean are telling a childhood story, arguing about who’s version of the events were more accurate, you get up to grab the dessert from the fridge. 
You take out the pan of flan with both hands and go to bring it back to the table, but right in the doorway, you stumble to a stop as a wave of something washes over you. It prickles across your skin and feels a lot like magic.
The pan drops from between your hands and crashes to the floor. It startles everyone in the room.  
Dean calls your name in alarm. He’s the closest to you, and he gets up to steady you with a hand on your shoulder. 
“You okay?” he asks, trying to get you to meet his gaze. 
But when you do, he sees blankness behind your widened eyes. 
“Who are you?” you ask. You look around in both fear and confusion. “Where the hell am I?”
Dean’s throat constricts. "What do you mean? You live here. I'm..."
He searches your face for any hint of a joke, but he finds none. Trepidation grows inside him, and he realizes then what this is.
Another temporal shift, getting closer to the new timeline. One in which you and Dean are clearly strangers.
Somehow, he didn’t anticipate this.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he says.
Your brows furrow as you take in the man in front of you. He’s certainly a sight to see, you think, but those broad shoulders, the cut of his jaw, those green eyes…they’re unfamiliar to you.
“Sorry, but…I feel like I’d remember you,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “Have we worked together or something?”
Dean’s lips press together. He gives you a meaningful look. “Sweetheart, we’ve done a lot more than that.”
Your brows raise, and you blush hotly at the thinly veiled innuendo in his deep voice. You take another quick scan of him, which he notes with a smile.
“Yeah, I uh, I doubt that,” you say, which drops his smile again. You curl a strand of hair behind your ear, like you’re embarrassed just by him scrutinizing your curvy form. Like you can’t believe he’s basically flirting with you.
That’s not the woman he knows. 
“Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I have to figure out where the hell I am and how to get home,” you say. And you ease out of his hold and back away. 
Dean grabs your hand fast. “Uh, wait. Sorry, just…”
He raises a placating hand and glances back at Sam with a hidden thread of desperation in his eyes. His brother is shocked and disheartened, as are Mary and John.
“Okay. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam, our parents, Mary and John,” Dean says, turning back to you. “I know this has gotta be weird as hell for you right now, but can you just…stay put for a bit, until I get this worked out?”
You give him an uneasy look. He’s holding your hand like he’s afraid to let you go. You don’t know this man at all, and yet he really seems to believe that he knows you. It doesn’t make any damn sense.
You shake your head. “Look, I have to go home.”
You try tugging your hand out of his, and Dean finally lets you go.
“Why, you got a boyfriend waiting or something?” he asks. He’s half teasing, and half serious. 
“No, um, family,” you admit. “My grandma’s probably waiting for me.” 
Dean’s expression slackens. In the right version of the timeline, you’re his girl. But your grandmother passed away a few years ago.
“Okay,” he wipes at his mouth with a hand. “Tell you what, it’s pretty late. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Deal?”
The truth is, he has no intention of letting you go any-damn-where, but he needs to buy them some time to break this spell. Then you’ll be back to normal.
Right now, you’re reluctant to trust him. Eventually though, you nod in agreement. Dean wastes no time in bringing you to the War Room, where he encourages you to take a seat.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he promises.
You nod a bit hesitantly, as you still treat him with dubious suspicion. It breaks his heart. He forces himself to turn away from you and return to the dining room.
Part of you can’t help but watch him leave. Those long legs and broad shoulders are a sight, you can admit, but this is all too much for you. You further take in your surroundings and also think this place is strange. No windows…what, are we in some WWII bunker?
And yet, Señor Green Eyes claimed that you live here. Your car, your keys, it all must still be here, you reason. 
So you wait until he’s all the way down the hall, and disappearing into another room. You get up out of your seat and start looking for your stuff—and a way out of here.
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Meanwhile, Dean goes back into the dining room where Mary is already crying in John’s arms: for her eldest son, for her youngest, for her husband, and for herself. Dean’s eyes are red and stinging too. 
By now, Sam has gotten up from the table and has been waiting for his brother. He lays a supportive hand on Dean’s shoulder. When Dean meets his brother’s gaze, he sees the shine of heartbreak there too. 
“Let’s get this done,” John says.
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Saying goodbye is the hardest thing. 
Somehow, though, they get through it. Dean reflects on how he never got to say it to his father the first time. He feels the worst for his mom, who gets her husband ripped away from her.
It’s not fair. In fact, it’s a cruel turn of the knife that he should’ve expected. Dean feels guilty just for making this goddamn wish.
John says goodbye to his wife first, then his sons. He pulls them both into a hug that Dean clings to. Again, he hears his father say that he’s proud of him and his brother. Dean hears him say that he loves them. 
“I love you too,” are the only words Dean can manage out, in a coarse whisper. 
But Sam is the one who has to make things right. He crushes the pearl. John slowly disappears in a haze of golden light. Tracks of tears are wet on all of their faces, but Dean is the first one who has to lock it all away. 
He remembers that you’re still waiting in the other room. 
Wiping at his eyes, he leaves Sam to comfort their mother and hurries out there, to the room where Dean left you…only to find your chair empty. 
A tendril of panic churns in his gut, but he has to remind himself that they’ve set things right. Even if you’ve run off, you can’t have gone far. 
He calls your name as he heads for the door to the garage. He picks up his keys and his phone to call you, but he stops at the foot of the stairs.
He sees you at the top of them, having dropped your duffel bag at your feet. Your name falls from his lips again.
You turn around and hold a hand to your head, with your brows furrowed in discomfort. Your gaze travels down to his.
“Dean?” you call out.
You head down the stairs, and Dean meets you there at the bottom. He pulls you into a tight, desperate hug. His hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. Even though you’re still a bit confused, you hold him back to reassure him, and to steady yourself. 
“What happened?” you ask.
“We reversed the spell,” he confesses, after he finds his voice. “Had to send him back.”
Your hold becomes more comforting as your hand slides up the back of his neck. 
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry,” you whisper. You card your fingers through his hair. His hold on you tightens even more. You feel his deep, shuddering breaths. He’s trying to contain it all, to push it down. You wish he would allow himself to let it out. 
He presses his lips into your neck instead. 
“You okay?” he asks. Your cheek brushes his when you nod. 
“I’m fine, but…” You pull back enough to see his face. “Did I…forget you? Everyone?”
Dean’s lips press together.
“For a minute there,” he says, “but we got it all worked out.”
You let out a shaky sigh, and you tug him back into a warm hug that you both need. 
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Mary prefers to be alone that night. You understand it, but you still apologize and give her a heartfelt embrace in the hallway outside her room. 
It takes her a moment, but she returns it. You start to realize that Winchesters are not a touchy-feely bunch by design. You can’t help yours though; you’re affectionate by nature. You just hope you haven’t overstepped.
Mary gives you a small, teary smile when you eventually pull away. She squeezes your hand before she says goodnight to you and her sons. 
You give Sam a parting hug as well. He rubs your back in a brotherly gesture. 
“Sorry about the whole temporary amnesia thing,” you quip. 
Sam shakes his head with a smile. “Just glad to have you back.”
After he lets you go, Dean thumps his brother on the back. He then heads down the hall without a word.
You and Sam share a look, in which you give him an unspoken promise: I’ll take care of him.
You follow after Dean, who trekked a well-worn path to your shared bedroom. He’s already at the sink, splashing water on his face. After drying himself with a small towel, he sighs and rests his hands on the corners of the sink.
After closing the bedroom door, you go over and slip your arms around him from behind. 
You rest your head against his back, and you both take in some deep breaths. Dean clasps a hand over yours on his chest. 
“I’m okay,” he says. 
“No, you’re not,” you tell him. “And that’s okay.”
Dean stays quiet. For a beat, he closes his eyes. He’s grateful for you. He’s still not sure why you put up with all the hellish shit that surrounds his life.
He turns in your arms so he can cup your cheek, smoothing his thumb across your skin. 
“You know how much I love you right now?” he says, even though his deep voice cracks. Tears well up in your eyes, but you smile and you nod. 
“Yeah, I do,” you reply, resting a hand on his chest. “I love you back.” 
He frames your face with his hands and bows his head to kiss you. It’s fraught and devouring, and a bit greedy. You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now, especially when his hands slip under your shirt and raise it over your head with practiced ease. In turn, you help him shrug out of the flannel and everything else.
You seat him down on the edge of the bed and stroke his face, his neck, his bare shoulders. His fingers press into your thick thighs as he encourages you to climb aboard, straddling his hips.  
Michael still paces back and forth in his mind, but for now, Dean’s able to tune it out and focus on this moment, with you. 
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AN: This ended up being another long one. Lots of angst and feels, but I sincerely hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun with this chapter of the Espresso-verse. 💜
Keep Reading:
Next up in this series is "A Little Danger." This one is lighter. Just a "quick and dirty" one-shot my brain couldn't let go of:
Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)
▶️ Next Story: A Little Danger
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Dean Winchester One-Shots
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords
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226 notes · View notes
jojomiwbvb6 · 3 months
Text
The Shower Scene, Part 2
Part 1 / Part 3
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Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. swearing, sexual tendencies
Almost a week went by. Working non-stop for the past 6 days, you stand in the crisp air of St. Louis, Missouri and take a long swig of your water. Load-out commences in a half hour.
The crew are dancing on their toes while you all wait in the dressing room for the rest of the Bad Omens set. You chew your lip.
In the entire time since Denver, neither you nor Noah had said a single word that anything had happened. The next day, you two glanced at each other, departed the hotel to the bus, and pretended like everything was normal.
Yet you felt the strange energy and tension he was hiding, and he hid it well. The past week, you have said nothing at all about it, yet, the memory of the way he watched you hungrily and patiently was burned into your brain.
It was enough to want to do it again. But you were afraid to do anything again.
Sometimes, during hangouts on the bus with the boys, you'd find him side-eyeing you. He would smile, as if it were toward one of Jolly's jokes, and turn away from you.
Fresh from Dethrone and the crowds energy, the guys run into the room, sweaty and whooping.
"Great job guys. Great show, as usual," you smile.
"Thank you, (Y/N)," Folio says.
"Yeah thank you, (Y/N)." Noah smiles at you.
"As always, Noah." You offer back.
His eyes flash a knowing look at you before instantly returning to normal.
You leave the room to load-out.
--
Stepping on the bus, everyone sighs and parts ways, to their respective bunks and to the TV in the living area.
It's 12 o'clock by the time we hit the road. Various members head off to bed. I stay on the couch, watching Ruffilo and Folio fight to the death on a video game that Ruffilo seems to be losing at.
"You both fuckin suck!" Noah shuffled out of the bunk area to the bathroom, jesting at his friends.
"Fuck you!"
"Go away, Sebastian!"
Noah smirks and laughs, stepping in and closing the door to it.
You giggle, but you feel yourself getting tired. You stand up. "Alright guys. I think I'm gonna head to my bunk. Night,"
"Night, (Y/N)."
"Night, dude. Oh I think you should let Davis cuddle. He seems lonely." Nicholas commented.
You laugh. "Fuck off, Ruffilo!"
Hearing the boys chuckle, you turn to head to the bunks. They resume their focus on the game in the dark.
As you begin walking towards the bunk area, the bathroom door opens. Noah stands there, looking at you. You look back at him.
"Yes, what?" You ask, your breathing picking up. He glared at you for a moment, and peaking his head out to check for his friends, he smirks at you as he sees no one looking at us.
He grabs your arm and yanks you into this tiny bus bathroom. He quietly shuts and locks the door.
In a quiet growl, Noah sinks his fingers deep into the strands of your hair. He pulls on it, earning a gasp of need from you. He gets close to your face, whispering, "What you did to me was so dirty, (Y/N). You think you can treat me like that? What a dirty fucking girl you are. Do you think I should show you who the fuck is in charge here? Should I punish you right here?"
Every growl from his mouth had you dripping, making the desire in your stomach red hot.
Noah continued on. "As punishment, princess, I'm not gonna give you what I know you fucking want."
You mewl at his words. He takes his free hand, and runs it down the line of your neck. "I bet you would be so beautiful if I fucked you," he looks into your eyes, getting close to your lips. "If you ever pull that again, I'll fuck this pretty mouth, too."
Your desire soaks your panties and you're squirming with want. "Noah, please,"
He grins at you. "You need me, baby? Huh?" You nod furiously. "Uh-huh!" You gasp.
"You want me to touch your pussy?"
"Fuck, yes," you whisper.
Both of you are trying so hard to be quiet. His hands rub at your thighs. The hand that was in your hair and moves down to grip your throat. You almost feel his breath against your lips. He was so close. He dips down and indulges in leaving hot, wet marks on your neck.
Noah's fingers are so close to right where you want them to be. He bites your neck and squeezes roughly with his hand. Your eyes roll back, and without a thought, you buck your hand up, wanting him to stop teasing.
Immediately he pulls his hands away from you and shoves you against the sink. His hands on either side of you, he pins you against the cold veneer. He tangles his hand back into your hair and gets close again.
You're so turned on, you could fuck him in this bathroom for hours.
"Too fucking bad. Bad girls don't get to feel good." He smirks, his hot breath fanning your face. He pulls on your hair and you whine. Desire fills both of your eyes.
He glances at your lips, looking plump and swollen as you gasp in his arms. He leans down, kissing you hungrily and you kiss back. He pulls away.
"Just to show you what you asked for," he finally allows one caress straight to your core. He slides his hand from front to back, giving your aching core a sharp slap for good punishment's sake, making you jump and squirm. "You just wait, princess. You'll cum for me again."
He leaves the bathroom, leaving you in a panting, wet mess against the sink.
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auras-moonstone · 9 months
Note
Hey,
Can you write a mini story of Jack and the reader. And can the trope be a fake dating for the media. Also can you the reader as an actress as well. And during their fake dating fling, they developed their feelings for each other but weren’t that sure to admit. So Jack calls it off and starts dating another girl. Later on, he realizes he still has feelings for the reader. And you can write the ending, please surprise me!
hi! i love this trope😫 hope you enjoy it🤍!
lost in translation — jack champion
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word count: 2,944
pairing: jack champion x fem!reader
summary: y/n and jack are working on a rom-com together and are asked to fake date. feelings bloom and jack calls it off, breaking y/n’s heart and, as collateral damage, their friendship.
author’s note: this is me claiming my love for louis partdrige (he’s so pretty😫) and lynn painter (read her books she’s amazing)
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Y/N HAD ALWAYS BEEN A BIG ROMCOM LOVER, SO WHEN SHE GOT THE ROLE OF LIZ ON THE ADAPTATION OF BETTER THAN THE MOVIES, SHE WAS ON CLOUD NINE. She met Jack (the boy who was going to play Wes, her love interest) on the chemistry read and the director instantly fell in love with their dynamic, and that’s how they got the role.
During the shooting, Y/N and Jack developed a close friendship. But the fans of the well-known rom-com book started shipping them even when the content the community managers shared was very scarce—just a few pictures of them on their breaks or during the filming, and some bloopers. The whole media kept talking about them, about how good they looked together, how their chemistry transcended the screen; and so the people involved in the publicity of the movie made a decision.
“You want us to what?” Y/N asked dumbfounded.
“To fake-date. The press tour is about to start, and we think you two dating can really boost the excitement for the movie” the head of publicity stated. “We can’t actually make you do it, as it wasn’t originally in the contract, but we think this is a great idea. The people love you”.
Y/N looked at Jack, who hadn’t moved a muscle ever since the suggestion. “Jack? What do you think?”.
“Can we talk about it? Alone?” he asked to the man in front of them, who reluctantly nodded before leaving the office. “I honestly don’t know shit about publicity, but if they think it’s going to help, then we should do it”.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Jack nodded “It’s you the one who doesn’t seem sure”.
“I don’t have a problem with fake dating you, I just don’t want our friendship to become weird or anything, because I value it a lot” Y/N told him. Jack’s heart broke, knowing how hard it was for her to establish friendships after her old friends started acting weird and became more interested in the events she could take them to rather than in her well-being and life. He knew he was one of her only real friends and now felt bad she had been put in such a spot.
“Hey, no. It won’t, it’ll be just like when we were filming, right? Just that we will do it in public” Jack tried to reassure her, pulling her into a hug.
“Okay… let’s just promise that if we get uncomfortable or if it’s becoming too much, we’ll be honest with each other and call this thing off, okay? Our friendship is way more important that the publicity” she said, looking him in the eyes.
Jack smiled, and showed her his little finger “I pinky promise”. Y/N laughed, wrapping her pinky with his.
And so their fake relationship began, not knowing that no promises could stop the feelings that were meant to evolve.
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THEY COULDN’T REALLY TELL THE EXACT MOMENT EVERYTHING CHANGED. The shift in their relationship was so natural and gradual that they almost didn’t notice.
Everything was done more often—dates, kisses, hand holding—, physical touch seemed to be a need now—it could be just intertwined fingers or his arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers around his waist—, longing glances when the other wasn’t looking, eyes drifting to each other’s lips everytime one of them was talking. They even had dates out of the public sight—even though none of them called it a ‘date’, they simply convinced theirselves it was a friendly hang out. They slept at each other’s houses, waking up the following day with Jack’s arms draped around her waist while her back was pressed against his front or, their personal favorite, Y/N’s head on his chest and arms around his torso while Jack’s was wrapped around her shoulders pressing her more against his chest.
So yes, it was so slow and felt so natural that it took them time to realize they had fallen for each other. Both of them had completely different reactions—while Y/N decided she was going to take a risk and confess her feelings, Jack’s fears blinded him. It’s not that he didn’t want to admit his feelings, but everytime the option of confessing crossed his mind the words she spoke came to him: “I just don’t want our friendship to become weird or anything, because I value it a lot”. Y/N had been so scared of their friendship being ruined because of the fake dating thing, Jack knew keeping his feelings hidden was the best option. But also, he couldn’t keep hurting himself and that was exactly what he was doing by pretending to be her boyfriend when he wanted it to be real.
Friday came around, meaning it was their sleepover day. They had just finished eating the spaghetti Y/N made, and were about to choose a movie to watch when Jack decided to speak up at the same time Y/N opened her mouth to confess.
“Oh, sorry. You can tell me” Jack told her. Y/N shook her head, signalling him to go ahead. “I have been thinking and I think we should call the fake dating thing off”.
Y/N’s mouth was open, yet no words came out of it. She had been thinking for days what the best way to express her feelings for him would be. She had a whole speech planned and was now left speechless.
“Oh… okay, if you feel is the best thing” she faked her best smile, while trying not to fall apart right in front of his eyes. “I just… need to ask, is everything okay? I mean, this is very sudden”.
“I just feel this is becoming too much, and you said we should be honest with each other” he simply answered.
Y/N nodded playing with the remote control in her hand. It was clear, he felt uncomfortable being her fake boyfriend because he only saw her as a friend. “Right, yeah. Thank you for telling me, then. We should talk to the head of publicity tomorrow. The press tour is almost over, so there shouldn’t be any problem”
“Cool” Jack nodded. He should’ve felt relieved that she took it so well, but instead, he felt sad. Maybe even disappointed in the fact that she didn’t fight the decision. And he also felt angry at himself for expecting so much of her part when it wasn’t her fault that he had fallen for her and she didn’t feel the same.
Jack had wanted to save their friendship so bad, he didn’t realize that the conversation had been the first crack in the glass.
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Y/N REALLY DID TRY TO NOT LET THE CIRCUMSTANCES INFLUENCE THEIR FRIENDSHIP, BUT THEY WERE SLOWLY DRIFTING APART. The texts were becoming less frequent and drier, the hang outs were brief and filled with awkwardness and so were their conversations.
The publicists thanked all the gods that the press tour was over, because they had never seen two people have less chemistry than Jack and Y/N. It was so hard for everyone to comprehend how two people whose eyes used to spark when they were around the other suddenly became lifeless.
But their breaking point came a few weeks later, it was the thing that made them stop talking for good. No more texting at all, no hanging out—alone or in public—no conversations, no looking at each other, no interactions at all.
Y/N was watching a movie with her friends, Millie and Louis, when Millie suddenly gasped. Y/N and Louis laughed “Mills, if you are with your phone while we’re watching a movie at least be discreet” the girl said, but Millie didn’t laugh or apologise, she just stared at her with saddened eyes, which made Y/N frown. “Is everything okay?”.
“When was the last time you opened social media?” she asked, while Louis took her phone to see what she was looking at.
Y/N saw him clench his jaw, which made her feel more confused “Um, I barely use my phone anymore, just to text… why? You’re scaring me, guys” she laughed nervously, trying to take a peek at the phone but Louis hid it quickly “Lou, give me the phone”.
The boy sitting next to her shook his head “It’s not the best idea”.
“Tell me what is going on, please. You’re making me anxious” Y/N’s voice was almost begging.
Millie sighed “It’s a picture someone took of Jack… he’s with a girl. They are… holding hands and exiting a restaurant”.
“Let me see” Y/N said extending her hand, but Louis just refused to do it. “Louis. Phone. Now”.
“Come on, Y/N/N, don’t be a masochist” Louis told her.
“I’m just going to see it on my phone later, so what you’re trying to do is useless” Y/N pointed out.
Louis sighed in defeat and gave her Millie’s phone. Y/N stared at the picture—Jack was looking as gorgeous as ever and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She missed him so fucking much, she hadn’t heard his voice in days (now she knew why, he was too busy). And then her eyes trailed to the girl holding his hand. She was very pretty—tall, long legs, blonde, muscular, stylish—and Y/N couldn’t help but compare herself with her.
“Stop it, I know what you’re doing and just don’t” Louis said, turning the phone off. “You’re gorgeous and way too good for him. It’s his loss, and he doesn’t deserve you”.
Y/N broke down for the first time in weeks, her feelings had been bottled up and the glass that held them inside finally exploded. Louis quickly put his arms around her, and Millie joined them in a heartbeat.
“I still have the fucking premiere” she cried harder when she remembered “What if- what if he goes with her? I can’t go”.
“Are you kidding me? You’re not going to miss the premiere. You work so hard for this! It’s your favorite rom-com and you are the main protagonist!” Millie said. “This is your dream. And you’re not going to let this ruin it”.
“I know, Mills. But I won’t be able to handle it. He’s going to be there, and even if she’s not there, I know he’s with her and looking at him knowing that will kill me” Y/N said, brushing away the tears. “Besides I can’t face that alone”.
“You’re not going to be alone. I’ll go with you” Louis offered.
“You actually had a great idea for once!” Millie exclaimed, making Louis roll his eyes and Y/N let out a little laugh. “Lou will be there for moral support, and you won’t feel alone. But you are definitely not going to miss your premiere”.
“Thank you, guys. I love you”
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JACK’S MIND HAD BEEN A MESS LATELY. Y/N stopped responding his texts, it’s been two weeks with no signs of her. He would’ve been worried if he hadn’t seen the instagram stories her friends, Millie and Louis, posted with her. So it didn’t take a genius to realize she was ignoring him on purpose, and he didn’t have a clue why. He missed her so much, it was driving him insane. Jack wanted to go back to that night and take back everything he had said, they still would be fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth.
Jack thought that by cutting off the deal, they would go back to being friends and his feelings would have eventually faded away. He even started dating a girl he meet at the gym, but Y/N lingered on his mind all day, every day. And when the day of the premiere came, his eyes searched for her figure as soon as he arrived to the red carpet.
Jack’s smile widened when he saw her. She looked absolutely breathtaking—as always—but then his smile fell when he realized she was with someone else.
“Can you at least be a little less obvious?” Kate asked.
“Sorry” Jack apologised. “Thank you for coming with me, even after our breakup”.
“It isn’t a break up if we weren’t really together. It was just a couple of dates to benefit the other. You needed to get your mind off her, I needed to get my mind off my ex” she answered. “Although I have to say, I don’t know if me coming was the best idea”.
“Maybe not” Jack said, stopping for a picture “I just couldn’t face it alone”.
“He’s with her” Y/N said to Louis, faking smiles as the photographers flashed their cameras at them.
“I know. I’ve been feeling his stare ever since we arrived” Louis replied. “He’s totally jealous, I can feel it”.
Y/N shook her head “You’re speaking nonsense”
“Nope, I know what I’m talking about. And I get it, you’re looking incredibly stunning and you have an eye-candy with extremely good bone-structure on your arm”
“And with a big ego” she added with a laugh. “Let’s go, eye candy”.
“Don’t you need to take pictures with him?” Louis asked in a whisper as they approached Jack and his date.
“Yeah” Y/N sighed, chest tightening as they reached them. “Hi” she greeted, looking at Jack—who looked beyond handsome—and then set her eyes on the girl next to him. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”.
“Kate” she greeted with a smile “And we both not that’s a lie” Kate laughed, surprising her. “It’s okay. Just, take the pictures and please, for the love of god, talk to each other!”
“Hi, I’m Louis and I’m very confused” the tall boy next to Y/N spoke up. “But I agree with the last part” he added, then looked at his friend “I’ll see you later to see the movie, okay? Let’s go…”
“Kate” the blonde girl reminded him as they walked away.
The two teenagers looked at each other, not knowing what to say. “We should… pose for the picture maybe?” Y/N broke the silence.
Jack nodded nervously “Yeah, yeah”.
He put his hand on her waist, and they both tensed. It had been so long since they were this close, their skin felt like burning and their hearts were beating at a dangerous rhythm. They only posed for a couple of seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. But once it was over, the awkwardness came back.
“Let’s go inside, our dates are waiting” she spoke up.
They entered the place, but as Y/N began to walk away, Jack’s hand grabbed hers making her stop in her tracks. “No. We need to talk first”.
“Jack, the movie is starting in a few minutes”
“A few minutes is all I need. I—we—can’t go on like this” Jack said. “I’m sorry. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly what I did, but I’m sorry for not trying hard enough to save our friendship”.
“That’s the thing, Jack. It isn’t your fault, it’s all on me. I’m the one who drifted apart because I didn’t know how to handle my feelings” Y/N let her guard down, willing to be completely honest. After all, their friendship was already dead.
“What do you mean?” Jack asked confused.
“I love you, Jack. I- I wanted to tell you. In fact, I planned on telling you during our last sleep over but-“
“But I called our deal off” he finished, cursing himself.
Y/N nodded “I understood that acting as my boyfriend was too much for you, because you only saw me as a friend. But I just couldn’t go back to being just your friend, I tried for a while but it was really hard. And then, you started dating her and… it killed me. I just couldn’t talk to you knowing you had someone else”.
Jack shook his head, wanting to laugh at the situation “The reason I called it off is because I fell for you, Y/N/N. I didn’t think you felt the same, and I knew how important our friendship was to you. I wanted to protect it, but instead I messed it up”
Y/N looked at him with her mouth open, and then laughed drily “Really? All this time we felt the same thing and we ruined it because we got lost in translation?” she said in a tone of disbelief “And now it’s already too late”.
“What? Why?” Jack asked surprised. “I still love you… you don’t love me anymore?”
“Of course I love you Jack, but you have a girlfriend”
“Kate is not my girlfriend. She never was” Jack told her.
“I saw the pictures, Jack”
“We went to a couple of dates, we both needed to get our minds off the people we loved. But we stopped once we realized how silly it was, we’re just friends” he explained. Jack took one step closer to her until her back touched the wall behind her “I love you and I want to be your boyfriend… that is if you aren’t dating Louis”.
Y/N laughed, her smile now impossible to erase “No, he came as a friend”
Jack smiled in relief “So…”
“So, boyfriend, we should get inside, our dates are waiting” Y/N said, a teasing smile on her face.
Jack laughed “Can I kiss you first?”
“I’m begging you” she said, grabbing the collar of his suit to push him down. Their lips met in the middle and they both smile through it “I missed this, I missed you”.
“God, I missed you too. You have no idea” he said, kissing her harder.
“Hey, this is a family friendly place” Louis’ voice interrupted them “Get inside, love birds, your movie is about to start”.
Jack and Y/N looked at each other with lovey smiles and, hand in hand, they entered the theatre to see the movie that brought them together.
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harrysarchive · 2 months
Text
just the two of us; h.s.
pairing:
dormmate!harry x dormmate!reader
summary:
"you look good [y/l/n], is it a crime to speak my mind?" i muse a smirk crawling its way onto my lips.
"yes! yes it is a crime. you-you cant say that!"
"says who?"
"says every rule of being best friends!"
warnings:
smut 18+⚠️
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loud rap music blares through the crowd, the smell of weed and sweet alcohol hangs in the air as i stare at [y/n] from across the crowed house a tug in my gut and a green monster clouding my vision. i watch as he runs his hands down the side of her body, she throws her head back with laughter grabbing ahold of his bicep.
"woah styles, loosen the grip. in a second your drink will be on the floor." louis snickers giving me a nudge, i roll my eyes. "[y/n] would never go for him, if you're curious:"
my head snaps to him, "what? -erm i mean- why would i care?"
louis snorts shaking his head, "maybe you dont, maybe you do." he smirks walking away.
i shake my head before my gaze makes its way back in the direction where [y/n] should be. but isnt. my heart starts beating out of my chest, blood rushing to my ears as my eyes scan the crowd. i spot her rolling her hips against her friends crotch before bending at the hips and slowly rolling them. my bottom lip catches between my teeth as my jeans grow tighter against my crotch. my view gets disturbed as the previous man she was laughing with grabs ahold of her bicep, she looks at him before shaking her head no and pointing to her friend. before i can stop myself, my feet carries my weight over to her direction, i softly grab [y/n's] hand giving it a yank to hide her behind me.
"we got a problem?" i ask lowly looking at the man.
"yeah, the problem is you taking what was rightfully mine." he sneers causing my eyebrows to shoot up.
"bunny, you belong to this man?" i ask with humor behind my voice.
she looks at him with eyebrows furrowed, eyes blazing with anger, "no! we talked for about two minutes. i do not know you nor do i want to get to know you." she snakes an arm through my arm yanking me away from the man. "men are pigs! i swear it." she murmurs under her breath, a chuckle escaping my lips.
she leads me outside were theres a small group of people blocking the doorway, some smoking others drinking. i grab ahold of her hand and yank her in front of me before narrowing my eyes, all of the sudden the nasty green monster swivels in my chest again.
"why the fuck were you talking to him?" i demand crossing my arms in front of my chest, he eyes also narrow into slits, her nose flaring at my tone.
"why are you speaking to me with that tone?! i was talking to him because he came with some of my friends and i thought he would be a friend, but he started touching on me. i got uncomfortable and left to dance. the end." she states sternly before turning and walking in the direction of the dorms murmuring 'so overprotective'.
"dont walk away from me [y/n], we arent done talking!"
she ignores me and keeps walking, her shoulders hunched over, nose deep in her phone. letting out a groan i follow behind. "you look hot." i blurt out, my hand quickly slapping over my mouth shocked that i actually had the nerve to say it out loud. she's wearing a short skin tight black one piece that sticks to her skin like honey, nipples peaking through and the swell of her ass peaking out. she stops walking before straightening up and turning to look at me, her ears are burning a nice red shade at the tip of them.
"what did you say?" she asks in a whisper eyes wide like i had said the most obscured thing ever.
"you look good [y/l/n], is it a crime to speak my mind?" i muse a smirk crawling its way onto my lips.
"yes! yes it is a crime. you-you cant say that!"
"says who?"
"says every rule of being best friends!"
"i'm not a stickler for rules." i hum grabbing her waist and pulling her towards me. her face has the lightest dusting of red probably from the drinks she's had, but i'd like to think it's partly because of me.
"har." she muses eyes dazing over. "we-we cant!" her dazed eyes suddenly open to their full capacity pushing herself out of my arms.
"god you're insufferable woman i swear it!" i groan closing my eyes and rubbing my palms over them.
"harry our friendship is very valuable to me! i cant lose it because we decided to -well what would happen tonight if i told you i also think you look good? hmm?"
"i dont know probably ask you on a date then." i shrug my shoulders, my heart pumping as she frowns at me.
"what if we don't click as well as we think we would? i value our friendship more than wanting to test out a theory that would not work out." she sighs her eyes glazing over with tears.
"bunny," i sigh grabbing ahold of her hands, "what would change? absolutely nothing- well okay maybe if we did go out the only thing that would change would be us holding hands, kissing and what not but we do everything else the same. shit people always ask if we're dating if it's their first time meeting us. but to hell with all that, i cant help how i feel for you bun. i've always been attracted to you from the day you opened the dorm room and probably till the foreseeable future. you may not want me to feel this way but you don't dictate my feelings."
i watch as a tear falls down her beautiful face, a frown tugs on my lips. she quickly wraps her arms around my neck before placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "you make it so hard not to feel the same way." she chuckles while pulling away and looking me in the eye.
my heart soars at her words, a smile breaks out on my face as well as hers and before i can stop myself i press my lips against hers. feeling to jittery to hold back, "let's go to our room bunny." i sigh as i pull away.
"not so fast styles, i do believe you're supposed to take me out on a date before taking me to bed." she teases booping my nose.
"of course bunny, we'll go on a date." i hum grabbing ahold of her hand and tugging her along with me, "hm lets see the only place open at three in the morning would have to be waffle house." i tease as she scrunches her nose.
"hell no." she shakes her head tugging me in the direction of our dorms, "you can just take me to brunch tomorrow."
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"oh fuck," i groan as my vision blurs, i drop my head to the crease of her neck and let out a moan
i grasp [y/n's] plushy hips and thrust deeply into her. i furrow my brows as i move back and forth slowly, receiving a few gasp and moans - here and there - they're breathy and light. i grab her face placing my lips on hers swallowing her whines.
"oh harry!" she moans sinking her nails into my back, her back arching off the bed.
"you're fucking beautiful." i groan as i take a moment to study her. her eyes rolling back in pleasure, nose flaring up slightly, mouth agape as small whimpers and moans escape her mouth.
my eyes trail down to the movement of my hips, pushing into her. i love watching myself thrusting my cock in and out, the view turning me on too no end. "god bunny," i moaned as i brought my lips to her neck. one of my arms wrap around her waist, bringing her closer to me, needing to feel her closer. my hand trailing down her body, i rub tight circles around her clit.
"oh my god bunny, you're so intoxicating." i moan loudly as she whimpers, "oh bun, i'm almost there." i mumbled to her, before sucking lightly on the column of her neck, my grunts and the sound of our skin slapping fills the small room. [y/n] lets out a string of profanities, her lips pressed against my ear.
"oh fuck," was all that escapes my lips before i find my release, i dont stop moving in and out of her. "cmon love, cum for me, need you to cum" i gasp at the feeling of being overstimulated, i watch as her eyes roll to the back of her head and mouth gasps wide open. feeling her clench around me she lets out a broken sob before we both turn to mush.
collapsing on-top of her i take one last look at her, hair disheveled, red cheeks, some dry tears down her face, lips plump, and glowing like the goddamn goddess she is.
"you gonna be my girlfriend bunny?" i ask and she looks at me with a wide smile slowly nodding.
"yeah har." she giggles placing a kiss on my cheek. "cant wait to rub the fact that i have a boyfriend - that i got on my own might i add - in my mothers face."
"it'll just be the two of us." i smile at her, she gleams up at me nodding.
"yeah, just the two of us."
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another dorm mate story💗💗
-all the love
em
xo🐝
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indiaalphawhiskey · 8 months
Note
Fake summary please for this made up title:
Flip me off and I’ll flip you over
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🎸 Flip Me Off and I’ll Flip You Over
It had been an honest mistake, hand to God.
Louis had seen him last night, two rows away from the front, eyes closed and mouthing along perfectly to All This Time, his sweaty tendrils framing his forehead and the sleeves of his Faith in the Future tee artfully cut off.
They had made flirty - some would even say, obscenely heated - eye contact under the bright lights.
That’s how Louis knew about the dimples; that’s why Louis ran to the barricade three songs too early and a little too far to the left. He didn’t actually see if one of the hands that had so desperately clutched at him belonged to Dimples, but he’d thought it safe to think so. (No one stood that close to the stage, totally dolled up in their little outfit just to make eyes at the artist all night and not try to touch him. Please.)
But the thing was, Louis was also just a wee bit hungover this morning; cranky, headache-y, and severely under-caffeinated after a late night at the club and an inhumane five a.m. radio interview call time. Not to mention being unceremoniously manhandled into the car by Joni after some fans got a tad too excitable at the entrance.
So when he saw Dimples for the second concert in a row, now strategically stationed outside his dressing room wearing leather trousers in 36 degree weather, smiling at Louis like that…
Well, he’d just kind of… assumed.
“Bit too early to be this thirsty for a back room shag, darling, innit?” Louis snarked over the pounding in his head. Though he squeezed his eyes shut behind his dark sunglasses, he didn’t miss the startled look on Dimples’ face.
“W-wh—” he stammered, seemingly bewildered. “I—I beg your pardon?”
Louis would roll his eyes at the impeccable feigned innocence if he wasn’t so dizzy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he peeked one eye open at the same time he lifted his coffee up to his mouth. Caffeine would save him.
He smirked a little at the deep blush on Dimples’ cheeks; at how caught out he clearly was. The movement only made Louis’ head hurt more.
“Posh little thing, aren’t ya?” He observed off-handedly, wincing at the reverberating sounds inside his head over the brim of his cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he clocked the pen in Dimples’ hand and he tipped his head as far as he could without giving himself vertigo to point at it. “Want me to sign your chest or something? Will that get you to leave me alone?”
Dimples narrowed his eyes at Louis in what seemed like the perfect cross between confusion and annoyance. “Ex-cuse me—”
“Come on then,” Louis interrupted impatiently. With a heavy sigh, he gestured with his palm to hand over the pen. “Just lift up your shirt and let’s get this over with—”
“Oh good, you’ve met!” Oli’s voice was so loud it made Louis flinch. Well, it was either his volume or the two forceful slaps he clapped on Louis’ back as he beamed as Dimples. “Louis Tomlinson,” he said, with a dramatic drumroll-type tone to his voice, “meet the legendary Harry Styles, youngest senior concert critic in Rolling Stone magazine history!”
To say those were the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment would have been incorrect. Mostly because the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment were the next six: “He’s here to review your tour!”
Louis lifted his horrified gaze to Harry’s face slowly. Their eyes locked, anger flashing across Harry’s features as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ironically, the lanyard of his press pass was now painfully obvious where it hung around his neck.
“Charmed,” he deadpanned.
Whoops.
— or, Louis Tomlinson’s World Tour was off to a great start until he royally fucked up by mistaking a world famous concert critic for a groupie. Then again, it’s not like anyone said Harry Styles couldn’t be both.
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paleprincessturtle · 4 months
Note
hi! Hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Harvey fic where Harvey gets jealous once reader gets some male attention. Harvey was always used to the reader falling at his feet, watching him with her doughy eyes, always finding an excuse to talk to him. But then he noticed her getting distant with him, almost not acknowledging his existence. Then he noticed flowers get delivered to her office, a guy coming by her office to take her out for lunch, etc. and poor little Harvey getting upset that she’s not at his mercy anymore lol & he confronts her about it :)
Happy New Year and I hope all of you people had a great holidays!
This one is for my friend @marjorie189! Thank you so much for the request and hopefully you like this.
Enjoy!!
Winner Takes It All
She walked briskly out of the elevator. Her bag was on her right shoulder while she tried to balance the two cups of coffee she carried and a few files she also carried at the crook of her arm. She made sure the one on her right hand was Harvey's coffee. Since Donna became COO, it wasn't unusual for her to see that Harvey had forgotten his coffee. Since then, she has made it her mission to bring Harvey his morning coffee. She was relieved to see the door to Harvey's office open. She invited herself in. "Hey, good morning," she said in a chirpy voice. "Morning," Harvey answered shortly. "I brought you coffee. Just how you like it," she hoped that Harvey would look up at her. But instead, his eyes were glued to the laptop in front of him. "Great, just put it here," Harvey signed with his head to the place around his desk. She shuffled around, trying to balance everything as she placed his coffee just beside his pen. "So, how was your morning?" She waited expectantly for Harvey to look up at her and probably finally realized the new dress she put on. Harvey finally looked up at her after a split second, but the expression on his face wasn't what she expected. There was annoyance in his face. "It was good and productive before you came in and decided that today would be a great day to just sit around and talk." She smiled curtly at his response. "Alright, I'll get back to work. Enjoy your coffee," she said as she waved at Harvey and walked out of his office.
She giggled to herself as she read the reports in the library. Harvey would like it, she thought. Scratch that; Harvey would love this. A huge help to his case. Even though she wasn't assigned to this case with him, she always secretly kept track of his cases. When she knew he was in trouble, she took extra time to help Harvey, aside from doing her own cases. She always ran to Harvey's office with her findings. "Harvey!" She barged into his office. Harvey's face was a mix of confusion and irritation. "I found this," she said, handing Harvey the papers she had photocopied earlier. "This is good," Harvey said, giving her a small smile as he nodded. She almost jumped in joy upon hearing that this would help Harvey. "Just good?" she teased. "I don't know, Harvey. I think this is brilliant!" Harvey sighed. "If you need praise and flowers, go to Louis. This is good, but get back to work. What are you doing anyway with my case?" Harvey questioned her. "I'm helping you, of course," she said as she giggled. "Thank you. Now, can you please go so I can call my client?" Harvey said as he picked up the telephone. "Bye, Harvey!" she said as she left his office, closing the door behind her.
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It was just like any other morning. Every partner had a meeting before the day started to touch base on everyone's cases. Harvey was assigning some new cases to every other partner. It wasn't long before the meeting finished. She stayed longer than everyone else, as she saw Harvey also stay longer. She looked like she was about to leave but stopped at the end of the table. Stopped exactly beside Harvey. "Do you need help with that?" Harvey, who was flipping some documents in front of him, stopped and looked up at the woman smiling down at him. "Actually, yes." She nodded excitedly. "Can you deliver this to the DA office?" She doesn't even ask questions. "Consider it done," she said, bowed, and left the room.
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For the past few days, Harvey didn't realize anything different until one morning he saw his newest and youngest partner. She just walked by his office. He remembered how, in the past few weeks, she never stopped by his office to deliver him his morning coffee. He stood up, trying to catch a glimpse of her. She brought with her a cup of coffee. A cup, as in a singular cup. Harvey's brows knitted, but he just shrugged and got back to whatever he was doing before.
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"Hey," Harvey said, entering her office after knocking. "Hey, Harvey," she greeted him, eyes never leaving the paper in front of her. Harvey noticed the unnecessarily big flower arrangement on a credenza behind her. She caught him staring at her freshly delivered flowers. "Are you going to tell me why you're here, or are you just going to stare at my flowers?" Harvey straightened himself; he seemed caught red-handed. She watched him impatiently. "I was wondering if you could help me with the deposition tomorrow." She shook her head. "I'm taking the rest of the week off ," she informed the clueless Harvey. "In the middle of the week?" Harvey folded both his arms in front of him. "Yes, I've asked Donna since 1 week ago. I've taken care of everything." Harvey looked at her as if she had two heads. "Where are you going?" She laughed. Harvey smiled at the sound he hadn't heard in the past few weeks. "Why is it your business?" Harvey was about to answer when she interrupted him. "I'll get someone else to help you, okay? Don't worry. Now, if you excuse me, I think my client just entered the conference room." Harvey stood there, flabbergasted.
Harvey was talking with Donna as they waited for the elevator. Harvey heard a familiar laugh approaching, but the voice was accompanied by a deeper laugh. Harvey whipped his body around and tried to locate the laughter. There, she was laughing with a man Harvey had never seen before in his life. They approached closer, seemingly wanting to leave the building as well. "Hi!" she greeted Donna and Harvey. "Oh, where are you two going? A lunch date?" Donna teased them. "Maybe," the stranger answered as she smirked at Donna. Okay, Harvey thought. This person knew Donna. "We haven't had the pleasure of an introduction," Harvey straightened himself. "Jonathan Seymour," the man said, smiling and extending his hand for Harvey to shake. Harvey took a quick second to look at his hand and chose to ignore it. "Harvey Specter, but you must've seen my name before seeing me," Harvey signed to the wall behind them with the name of the firm etched. "I need to see you before you go home," Harvey pointed his eyes directly at her. Before everyone could say anything, Harvey stepped inside the full elevator, leaving the three of them.
"Harvey, I'm about to leave. You need to see me?" Harvey moved his head, and she got inside his office. "Since you will take the rest of the week off, I need your help with those files." Harvey pointed at some folders stacked upon one another. She wanted to say no, but she felt bad now that she was taking the rest of the week off. "Okay, sure," she smiled. "What should we do?" she asked as she took off the coat she just put on.
Harvey watched her work. The fact that this was just a little over midnight, the fact that now her hair was in a high bun, and the fact that she looked very beautiful as she pouted, concentrating on the task at hand. He missed this. He missed her presence. Her chirpy voice. Her smile. Her scent is one of amber and rose. "Are you going to tell me where you are going for the rest of the week?" Harvey started the conversation. "I'm going to accompany Jonathan. His cousin is getting married in Aspen. But he said he wanted to show me around," she smiled. "Are you happy?" Harvey asked abruptly. She was taken aback by his question. The man he had been trying to get close to for almost a year was now asking personal questions. "I'm happy, Harvey. Any reason why I shouldn't?" Instead of answering her question, he asked her another question. "So you can positively say that you are happy with this Jonathan?" She sighed. "Where is this going, Harvey?" She put her pen down, giving Harvey her full intention. Harvey was quiet for some time; she raised her eyebrows at him and demanded that he continue. As she saw Harvey struggle to find words, she picked her pen back up and got back to work. "I like you," he blurted after a full five minutes of silence enveloping the room. "You what?" she asked, her voice higher than usual. "I like you. I don't like seeing you with Jonathan. I like you, and I never realized it before." She looked at him, and confusion marked her face. "Don't go with Jonathan. Go with me. I want to show you how sorry I am for treating you badly for the past couple of months, and I want to show you how much you mean to me," Harvey said as he kneeled in front of her, hands intertwined. She looked down at their hands. "You have to win me over, Harvey." But everyone knew, Harvey always won.
MASTERLIST
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charliedawn · 9 months
Note
Hi! I have a request! (I won't be mad if you choose not to write it, you do you)
Since the slashers can't leave the facility, how would they take you on a date? I feel like Freddy would take you on a date in your dreams, etc. Please include Penny! He's my favorite!!! Love your work, and hope you have a blessed day! ❤️
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Penny would make a whole world appear just for you. He is not as powerful within the hospital as he’d normally be, but he could still make a pretty good illusion for you.
He’d probably make you see what you want and make sure you have as much fun as possible. He’d dig into your head for all of your most personal desires.
He’d also take as many opportunities to know you better and satisfy his curiosity as to why you’d ever want him too.
Penny *tilts his head curiously at you* : "Humans are so odd. Your hearts beat so loudly when you are afraid…But, yours has a different sound to it."
You *surprised* : "Really ? How does it sound ?"
Him *presses his ear against your chest to hear it closer and closes his eyes* : "…Different." *giggles* "Good different."
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Arts and crafts. Jason love carving wood and making bird houses. He brought his passions with him when he first entered St Louis. He’d be excited to show you his masterpieces and show you how to do it.
You’d be sitting side by side while using your hands to try multiple different shapes, but would be careful as to not let you get hurt with the knife when you’d try to carve things.
Jason *smiles proudly while showing you his last wooden piece of work*
Jason isn’t comfortable sharing anything about himself so…It’d be a huge honour. He’d also show you his collection of frogs and let you pet them if you want.
He’d also hold your hand and show you his face if you’d want.
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Jack is a pretty standard guy when it comes to dating. He was kind of the popular kid and did date a lot in his younger years.
He’d normally go for the classic cinema and restaurant. But, as he is trapped in the hospital…He’d do with what he’s got.
Netflix and chill.
He’d ask the other slashers not disturb the both of you as you take over the TV room and eat snacks together.
Jack *pretending to be yawning before lowering his arm over your shoulders to caress the skin with his thumb*
You *smile knowingly* : "Really ?"
Him *smiles and shrugs* : "…Hey. Am a big fan of the old technics…is it working ?"
You *smile before leaning back against him* : "~Maybe."
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Pennywise would let you drag him anywhere, but he’s the type to not like big crowds so…the fact that he can’t go out won’t really be a problem.
He’d be just as happy staying inside and have some time with you. But, don’t expect him to have many date ideas.
Pennywise never dated anyone before, so he’d just let you decide or let you sleep on his lap. Tops.
However, he may sing you to sleep.
And his voice is really soothing when he hums while rocking back and forth on his rocking chair.
Pennywise *starts humming while holding you close and stroking your hair*
You : "…I thought you didn’t like people touching you ?"
Him *smiles* : "Guess you must be the exception, huh dollface ?"
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Norman is a gentleman. He’d be holding you and gently swing you back and forth in his arms.
He’d be dancing a waltz with. Or cooking you a good meal. His mother taught him how to be a good cook and to always be as respectful and nice as he can be.
So, he’d also be the type to buy you dinner and buy scented candles and roses for the occasion. And he’d always ask you if you’d had a good time at the end.
Norman *holding you close* : "Was it alright ?"
You *smile and wrap your arms around his waist* : "Perfect."
He’d then smile and let out a relieved sigh.
Norman was taught to be perfect. He would be devastated if you didn’t have fun or didn’t enjoy your time with him.
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Freddy can date. But, the dates he went on in the past weren’t exactly heartfelt. He just never got emotionally connected with someone enough to care.
So, he’d try simple at first.
Freddy would either invite you to get a drink or offer to take a look at his garden. Let’s not forget he used to be a gardener. So, he does love flowers.
He’d then wait until it gets dark to ask you if you want him to try something on you.
Freddy never used his powers for anything else than pain or to kill. So, he’d be nervous when first trying to think of the perfect dream date.
Freddy *smiles nervously before taking your hand* : "Trust me ?"
You *smile back* : "Always."
He’d then get inside your head and put his plan into motion. He’d be careful not to hurt you of course and try to make it as perfect as he can.
Because he knows you trust him. And that is something Freddy never got from anyone but the kids he used to love…before they betrayed him.
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Bo : "…Beer ?"
Bo is a simple man. It’d normally be a truck ride and drinking beer while looking at the sky, or at whatever is around.
But, as he can’t really leave the facility…he’d just ask you to join him in the courtyard of the hospital to have some s’mores and look up at the sky.
No conversation necessary. But, he’d be happy either way.
Bo : "Thanks fer…Ya know…Sayin’ yes to the whole thing…"
You *smile and shrugs* : "No need. Believe it or not…I like hanging out with you, Bo."
Bo *is stunned before chuckling and handing you a cold drink of your choice* : "Whatever you say, darlin’…"
Bo would be happy to hear it, even if he wouldn’t believe it at first.
Because Bo has always been the failure of his family.
So, why would you ever like his company ? But, he’d let himself dream for a bit. Just for a moment.
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Brahms would give you his favourite toys and ask you to play with him. He’d also share his favourite snacks with you and watch cartoons with you.
Brahms is a child at heart and he’d be happy to do anything with you, as long as he spends time with you.
He’d also insist on staying with you for the night.
Brahms *holds you close and starts breathing deeply* : "Nice…day ?"
You immediately understood what he was asking and hugged him back.
You : "Yes. I had a great day. Thank you, Brahms."
He was very happy to hear it and cuddled you closer—even letting you take a peek at his face. He’d become very clingy very quickly.
Brahms has a big fear of being a disappointment and abandonment. So, once he knows you like him ? There’s little chance he’d ever leave you alone.
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Michael *A…date ?*
He’d be surprised and even a little nervous at first. Love is a tricky business for Michael, since he technically killed all of the people he ever cared about.
So, he’d be a little worried you’d end up with the same fate.
So, even making him agree to go on a date with you would be tricky.
Michael *frowns and sighs before taking your hand*
You *smile hopefully* : "Is that a yes ?"
Michael *nods after a while*
He’d then lead you to the kitchen and have a little cooking date with him. He knows how to handle a knife and was advised early on to find an activity which would soothe him. He found cooking.
But, cooking with you was different. It felt…better.
Seems like the bogeyman can get lonely too.
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Unfortunately, Hannibal Sr. is considered too dangerous to leave his cell most of the time, as he arrived after all the others to St Louis.
So, he’d be either asking you to put on some music for him or to read to him. Two of his favourite things.
Hannibal Sr. *smiles as he tilts his head left and right to the music*
You *smile as you silently observe him* : "Tell me…Why did you ask me on a date ? I mean…You’re always in there. It seems pointless."
Him *stops tilting his head before opening his eyes slowly and smiling at you* : "But, that is precisely the game, my dear. Anticipation makes the deal all the sweeter…"
You : "So…You would rather wait and watch me all day rather than going out on an actual date ?"
Him *chuckles* : "Of course not, my dear…But, even if I never was set free…Spending a lifetime just watching you would be enough for me."
You stared at Hannibal Sr. for a while and he didn’t break eye contact for a second. He had just confessed that he’d be okay with just watching you until the end. And somehow, you believed him.
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s1ater · 9 months
Text
cherry pie.
pairings. louis partridge x fem!reader
summary. reader never would have thought about getting high until she seems to have lost all her morals in one night with a boy she had never met before.
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warnings. swearing, underage drinking and smoking
ricky rocks. YALL PLEASEEE bare with me. you can probably tell this is an older story because of the format, but just disregard the first half, i know it’s the lower end of my writing. it kinda gets better 😬 (edit: this story is so mid, i’m just trying to clear my drafts)
the room danced with colors, so many colors and shades you seemed to have never seen before. unfamiliar with their cause and purpose, unsure why you couldn’t touch them; it frightened you with the way they moved around, the way they twirled around your head like little ballerinas.
you swallowed, dropping your head back against the grungy brown couch sat in the corner of one of the back rooms of connor’s house, a boy you found yourself calling on day after day for the past two months for fun, and by fun you meant sex.
but tonight, you hadn’t seen the boy for what you could count as hours. there were other things on his mind rather than a high off their ass you. other pretty girls with less clothing on their bodies and longer hair that was paid more attention to than your own.
you couldn’t care less at that point in time as you felt so deep in a haze, nothing could pull your attention. nothing, until the seat next to you sunk in from the pressure of bodyweight and another high body, seeing the same things you were seeing, feeling the same things you were feeling. 
he just had it more under control. 
“you going to stare at the ceiling all day, love?”
you rolled your head to meet the eyes of a crazed blonde with matching brown eyes. delight swirled in his irises while he looked at you with also dazed eyes, almost ceased shut from swelling of the high. you looked amazed right back at him despite sober you would have been disturbed, never seeing a person so out of their mind.
“who are you?” you stared at him, shocked. 
“your new boyfriend,” he wiggled his eyebrows, jumping and readjusting himself up against you, his arm now slinging up and over you shoulders. a new kind of energy swelling through his chest, “i say we go on a date.”
he stared in front of him focused full hearty, as if visualizing something at that moment. you squinted, looking to where he was looking as if trying to see what he was seeing, but not enough weed could put you on his level. 
“i say, we leave right now, get some pie, maybe some coke. whatever you like sweetheart, i’ll give it to ya.” “I think your sweetheart wants some space, jake,” your eyes looked from the boy who sat next to you, jake, to the boy who now stood before the two of you, an unimpressed look on his face. his arm reached out to jake, practically yanking him from your side. “alright pal, let’s go for a walk.”
you watched jake stumble into him, “but louis, she’s pretty.”
louis glanced back over his shoulder as he begun to pull jake away from the couch and toward the door, now really coming to your attention. his eyes raked you up and down before smirking a little bit, nodding to himself, “sure man, she is.” 
he begun to walk away with jake wrapped around his shoulder before you got up fast almost tripping over your feet, not wanting them to go, “wait, i want a pie.” 
he looked back at you and your disoriented self. your shoulders were slung low, making you smaller than you actually were. your hair was all staticky, hanging above your head like a crown, and your eyes; dilated and filled with innocence.
he smirked, looking you up one more time before nodding you over, cuing you to follow after him, his arm still holding jake to his toes.
the boy’s car was blue. louis’ car was blue. it was one of those old, nice, restored cars that must have been worth thousands. the interior had light brown leather seating that made noise every time you shifted and readjusted yourself due to the old springs lying beneath. it made you giggle as you sat next to him in the front seat, jake lying in the back due to him not being just high, but rather cross faded. louis had apparently found him completely plastered out of his mind once he had first arrived at the party, leading him to hand jake a blunt to finalize his out-this-world experience. it wasn’t smart, but it kept louis entertained to say the least.
louis had glanced at you multiple times as he drove through the silent streets. he seemed eager or maybe even a little irritated as he watched you bounce around, lacking the ability to sit still as your eyes darted everywhere, from street lights to stop signs to anything that’d fully occupied your vision.
“have you ever been high before?” he asked, stopped at a stop light with red lights shading upon both your faces.
“nope,” your eyes wandered across the ceiling of his car. you ran your fingers along the soft carpeted interior—strange, but very stimulating and soft—making you feel all fuzzy inside of satisfaction. “louis, i love you car.”
he chuckles lowly, directing his eyes back to the road, “a lot of people do,” his lips were turned upwards into a slight smirk. it made the fuzzy feeling in your stomach turn warm as there was something very satisfying about just the way he looked. “we’re here.”
your eyes flick to the front of you where your visions bursts with neon lights beaming from the large “diner” sign pinned against the small vintage looking building. you're quick to slip out of the car to the euphoric sight.
“y/n!"
you stopped in your tracks at the sound of your name, glancing over your shoulder where your eyes immediately find a group of boys congregating together with one single boy appointed to attention to you. 
louis. 
"hold on. give me a minute, guys," you watch louis from five feet away, brush his friends off despite the yearning looks of amusement on all of their faces, looking between the both of you. he’s far from bothered or just doesn’t notice; brushing them off before meeting you to where you stood.
it was a wednesday after school. the sweet sound of louis’ voice and sight of his captivating face was the last thing you thought you’d come across. it must’ve been a mutual feeling with the way he looked you up and down, all winded looking. 
"you're a hard person to find."
"you've been looking for me?"
"of course," he has a cigarette in his mouth.
"I almost didn't think you were real."
"of course i'm real, sweetheart," he grins harder at you. "that fucked up, were you?"
you snort. if not being able to remember half of what took place that night counted for being fucked up, you took the trophy.
"well, alright. i'll take that as you had a pretty good night."
"one of the best."
“good,” he grins, “that’s a rare occasion for girls like you.”
“girls like me?” you scoff, arching a brow. his sentence could easily be something taken for offence, but the lighthearted tone to his voice only proved he was looking to mess with you. 
“yes,” he laughs with you. “usually drinking is the only thing you’d catch a teenage girl doing for non-sober purposes.” 
you nod, agreeing, because he wasn’t wrong, “i’ve had a fair amount of experience with alcohol and let me just say, i’ll be steering clear of that for a while.” 
“ah,” he tips forward on his feet in amusement. “i could’ve guessed you’re a wild one with your liquor, y/l/n. make some questionable choices.” 
you feel your face heat up in thought, “i won’t say you’re wrong.” 
louis lets out a small huff of laughter, before pausing all movement. he stares at you for a moment with narrow brows, as if trying his best to read you, “you ever wanna smoke with me, just let me know, alright?” he patted your back before suddenly walking past and away from you. your back was to him now but you could hear pat pat pat of his feet in the grass.
you frown, your eyes finding the cracks of the sidewalk as you think of how brief and unusual that was. you feel a large hole in your chest of unfulfillment. 
“louis, wait,” you shifted around rather quickly as a reality hit you, but you didn’t make any moves to chase after him. he turned as well as if waiting for it. “you uh, you didn’t tell connor i was with you guys, did you?”
yikes.
that’s not what he wanted to hear. 
louis pinched the bud of his cigarette, nodding to himself, thinking contently to his answer before exhaling, a thick cloud of white swirling out into the air before your eyes. you feel dazed, still high from the days before, filled with such naïve joy and lost thoughts of things you couldn’t remember now.
he threw his cigarette on the ground, eyes meeting yours again, only they were hard now and filled with no light heartedness like all times before. and his voice wasn’t soft or full of amusement either but dry as he stared you dead in the eyes, “why, he your boyfriend?”
your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your eyes not meeting his for a while until after you thought about your answer. and it was an easy answer, no, but it was never something you’d ever consider a question. 
“no, no he’s not.”
“you sure about that?”
“not my type,” you smile slightly, examining louis’ pale cheekbones and facial features, the cold of the weather turning his complexion slowly red. your eyes drag to reach his red chapped lips.
him, he was your type. 
“enough of your type for you to fuck him,” he gave you a pointed look as if he had caught you in the act of something, and almost immediately your cheeks burned, like you were caught for something you knew you shouldn’t have been doing. 
you didn't understand why or how he knew. louis was someone you didn't know at all and what you and connor did was something you didn't tell anyone.
"you're surprised?"
"yes."
"why do you care what he knows, let alone fuck him?" he doesn't say anything more on how he knows like you hoped he would. "if he's not your type?"
you bite into your bottom lip, wincing because you didn't know the answer to it, "I don't."
"but you do," he slightly smiles but it's only out of annoyance as his voice catches up to cut you off on your lie. "I think you do, y/n. and you just don't want him to know we kissed."
"your mouth tastes like cherry."
"so does yours."
fuck.
"no, louis..." you wince, immediately regretting stopping him. "that's not what I meant. he doesn't mean anything to me."
he scoffs, "funny."
he doesn't believe you. not even close.
"you know he has label on you."
"a what?" you frown immediately, taking a step forward out of instinct.
“i’m a fool to think you’d ever stop liking him,” he holds his face, running his fingers along the sharp lines of his jawbone as he thinks about his idiotic hope that’d you so fastly fall for him as you did with connor. “foolish to think you’d drop him over one night.”
you’re even more confused now, “it was one night, louis.”
“you act like there isn’t the possibility that i’ve known you even before that night, y/n,” he has a smile that comes on his face but it isn’t something genuine. it’s annoyed. “your jerkoff of a boyfriend isn’t as secretive about you as you think.”
“he’s not my boyfriend.”
he scoffs, “you keep saying that.”
“because it’s true.”
“do you know what he says about you?”
“obviously not, louis,” four steps forward, four steps closer. “you keep speaking of ‘labels’ and whatever, but why don’t you just say it. what does he say about me that is so crazy?”
he didn’t expect the sudden brief and assertiveness you pull with your movement and words. it knocks him into a slight revelation as all he can do is stare at you and breathing, memorizing this side of you. 
“did he say i was a whore?” that was the only possible thing that you could think of at that moment that could be so bad. “he tell you i was a slut?”
it’s silent. you watch him think and the way he unintentionally avoids your hard stare with the thought process.
“ask him yourself.”
**
“has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes.”
you feel your face burn upon the comment. everything in your body felt as if was about to burst upon the simple company of louis. even though it had to of been hours since connor’s house, and the diner, and even dropping jake off at his own home, you still felt out of your mind in the best way possible. all of your sense were still high, but your vision was fuzzy and you felt lag in your movement.
how were you still high?
“you have,” you felt yourself giggle, to which he smiles with a tip of his head, watching you.
“cute,” his fingers rubbed against his mouth in thought before reaching to you. you felt yourself inhale sharply at his sudden movement and hold your breath once they reached their destination; raking through your hair. “how does he do that to you?”
“what?”
“nothing,” he shook his head, still twisting his fingers through soft strands of your hair. you feel yourself relax, watching him and the way he seemed so focused on just you. “you’re just very pretty, y/n.”
you feel your eyes slightly widen, but his face doesn’t shift at all. he’s calm, while you feel your entire body burst once more into heat. you’re itching to move, you can’t just sit still in that burning warmth beneath his stare. you feel yourself move, leaning forward on your knees so your lips meet louis’.
louis smiles against the pressure of your lips against his--he almost forgets to kiss you back because of it. 
almost. 
his hands rack up and down the front of your body, lightly pressing into the hold he had around your rib cage, as if willing to crush you beneath his grasp as long as that meant you wouldn’t leave. this contact isn’t enough even for you. you want to feel him all over and the heavy hands holding your body isn’t enough. 
you’re on his lap now, one of your hands holding the top of his shoulder while the other claps his cheek. louis feels as if his own body is about to burst beneath you... this is all he has wanted, for a while, and now that he’s got it, he feels it’ll destroy him. you’re ignorant to his feelings, but you feel just as feverish with your heart thump-thumping within your chest, as if speaking to his. 
“your mouth tastes like cherry,” your chest is heaving up and down as you pull away, your wide stare boring into his own eyes with something of delirium. 
he’s smiling wide, tipping his head back against his seat to see your face better, “so does yours.” 
now you smile, “i like you louis.”
he almost groans, rolling his head side to side at the sound of those precious words, “you’re killing me,” he pulls the sentence straight out of his mouth like it was sarcastic, but he meant it, “say it again,” he wanted it. 
“i like you,” you repeat, this time his hand is on your cheek. “please kiss me.” 
oh, jeez. 
he stares, breathless, “okay.” 
***
it was a week after your fallout with louis and you couldn’t think about anything other than that. you felt a sudden emptiness and need for something that you barely even had; louis. 
every little micro interaction you had with him ran through your mind like a record, over and over till you felt you were going to throw yourself off a cliff. and it wasn’t just the connor comment--which was something you really, really couldn’t stop thinking about--but the seemingly quick liking he had taken to you. 
it had caught you off guard, but the more you thought about it, the more curious you became as to the whole thing; which was what led you here; connor’s house, on a friday night where he was once again throwing. 
“what have you been saying about me?” you stood in front of him, connor, your vision narrowed as you stared at him, examining him as if his whole existence was strange. 
“what?” his confusion was genuine as this question was rather abrupt and you made no attempt to make introductions. 
“you know louis partridge?” 
connor looks between you and the people he currently stood with, confusion still reeking his features, “yes..?”
“what have you been telling him about me?”
“you want to talk about this somewhere else?” 
“i want a straight answer,” you feel his hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you away from his crowd without an answer from you. 
“which i can give you if you weren’t so vague... why are you talking to partridge?” 
“you got a problem?”
the two of you are stopped in front of a boy; jake. 
“no, man, i think we’re good,” connor pays him no mind, side stepping him fast with you still in grip, continuing to interrogate you. you ignore connor, watching jake the whole way you’re being pulled while he watches you. you feel as if the boy isn’t real, like he was someone you had made up when you were high, but there he was, staring just as shocked, but equally skeptical as you were pulled further and further from him. 
“are you listening to me, y/n?”
“what?” 
“i asked you what you were on about?” you’re now in an empty corner, secluded away from the rest of the party. “haven’t seen you in days and you’re on a tangent about a boy you barely know, what’s going on?”
you finally focus on him, barely processing the words he was putting in your ears, but you didn’t have to in order to hear the fake sympathy and concern. 
“how do you know louis?”
he shurgs, “see him every time i throw. gotta get to know my usuals.” 
“yeah, and how well have you gotten to know him?”
he shakes his head, feeling attacked, “why?”
“because i think it’s my right to know what you’ve been saying about me to him and whoever else,” the seal of your calmness breaks as you extend an arm out, ready to scold him for anything he was about to say. 
his expression drops in return, knowing any attempt to make you calm and make the situation subtle was out of his hands. connor knew you well enough to know you were too far into your frustration to calm you down. 
“what’re you talking about?”
but that didn’t mean he had to comply. 
“your new choice in men is obviously not working out for you. even they know i’m the best you’ll ever have.” 
“what?” your head drops forward, taken aback at the sudden escalation connor had taken to his approach in words. “what the fuck are you on about?” 
he smirks, pushing the red solo cup he had up to his lips, glancing around before looking back down to you, “why else do you think he lied to you about whatever it is you’re asking?”
“i can’t believe this,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “pull yourself out of that goddamn lie before you make yourself look even more like a fool. what have you been saying about me?”
“i find it best you don’t lie about this one, mate. you have an audience of witnesses,” there’s a hand on your back and a voice intervening. 
the two of you focus to louis who suddenly stands behind you, daring connor to push it. the boy looks confounded looking between you, louis, and the crowd of boys behind him. he doesn’t know what to do within the corner he had backed himself into. 
“whatever, this is my own fucking party. i don’t need to do shit,” he shoves past all of you. you all watch him storm away, not looking back, leaving you all to yourselves in the dust. 
“let’s talk,” louis says immediately the moment you look up to him, nodding off in a random direction. 
you slowly nod, following him. 
“i didn’t think you’d actually ask him.” 
a laugh gets caught in the back of your throat, shaking your head at the ignorance as he opens the passenger door to his car for you, “yeah?”
“yeah,” he slides into his own side of the car. “but then again, what would i know about you?”
“a lot, apparently. more than i would guess,” you lean your head against the palm of your hand, staring at him carefully. “you gonna tell me what he said now?”
louis looks hesitant, not even looking at you anymore as he thinks on how to answer. he doesn’t want to answer, it’s that simple, but he owes it to you to give you something sense he was the one who told you in the first place. 
“when i met connor, he talked about you a lot. a lot for someone i barely saw. it was like every party he had something new to say or nothing new at all. as long as it was you he was talking about,” he smiles to himself, thinking of all the bragging and praising he had put into you, all for connor to just... “you were like a prize to him, y/n--until you weren’t. he called you easy, but you were his. he said he could walk you like a dog because he was the only guy you thought of.” 
you feel rage and annoyance fume in the base of your chest as he speaks. he can see it form in your eyes, take over any look of calmness or subtlety from before. you make a move to push yourself back and out the door but louis is quick to grab your arm, pulling you right back to him, only closer. 
“hold on there, cowgirl,” your almost in his lap. “you’re better than that.”
“am i?” you’re squirming, almost pulling from the grasp his grasp if it weren’t for how warm he made you feel.
“yeah,” he’s smiling at you. “why waste any more of your time with him anyways when you could just be here with me?”
you couldn’t help but fall victim to the pulling sensation on your lips to smile at him. you feel that fuzzy feeling creep up into your stomach at his stare like the first time you were both alone in his car and suddenly all your anger at connor melts away.
“only if you offer me cherry pie.”
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