#jealousy I reckon ha

[indiafishydish]

Advice to heed, steal once pay twice

I had sephora send me a second lip balm because it’s trash tbh.

But really if it’s trash why do I need a second one do you guys know what I mean because I knew when I received it it was a trash product



Things are getting pretty gross and when the lower class community once used products from Sephora, that’s when they get nastier because you don’t want new products after all you want trash I had to go ahead and edit the order number because I had a feeling that Kelsie or Stephanie or Nick, or one of those trash bowls would probably interfere with my order because they want to receive interior products themselves yes can be left off to be honest with you. it sounded better without it.

— Dr. Lang you don’t hate all Indian women right you just hate the ones that are super super smart and fresh. Is that right? Bullseye bitch oh my God it’s like oh my God.

But Mark, is he intentionally acting like a scumbag or is he really that much of a scumbag

— well well if it’s oh God Roger that is not cool. Oh my God you need to have a talk with that bitch that is disgusting. That is not my grandmother you let that fucking cinnamon roll eating Cunt know exactly what I said.

Sexual hygiene, children Jesus Christ you guys are nasty as fuck. Unfortunately the doctor has like a needle in the back of my neck right now so I feel a little bit like forced to go along with some of the shit I’m not gonna get aids because you guys think it’s funny though.

So you guys piss in the pool and then you have to eat from that same trough Nick what’s it like eating at a restaurant you don’t even wanna be eating at but it’s your fault

Stephanie, is that gross? Oh fuck me she just continues to be gross well so she’s in the same category as Teresa and a lot of other people that’s pretty nasty you guys.

Mark brought up animal farm while he mentioned that Doctors eat from a certain trough and they never stop if they are going to continue to be piggies. They will probably be piggies until they are stopped gosh it’s relevant. It makes a lot of sense to me.

Ashley would later tell me that Stephanie tried to cross that line and she cannot do that so that must really be a point of jealousy. That’s a nasty nasty line to cross to try. I understand that she is not particularly the most intelligent girl around. She’s just your average bag of trash.

But all children need love I’m not saying I’m gonna cross any line don’t misunderstand me. I already did cross that line and it’s kind of interesting because it calmed her down. Whatever the fuck I naturally gave without thinking before it’s probably because we’re not having a Chan versus San disagreement.

So you’re telling me India was jealous of your treasure or something like that Wayback in the day right John Wayne

I’m not a big fan of that poor potato bullshit. I told you guys in America

I said corporatized and wow yeah I am not a fan I love potatoes and I love dogs and I really love dogs. Did I ever tell you that John Wayne knows that right well you know my other grandfather he is the guy who is sort of John Wayne to me but I’m a little bit too sentimental sometimes so it’s not like my heart is split into and Amanda Palmer can’t ever feel that for herself the way that I can feel that for myself it’s always about what you guys can steal for yourselves. You can’t go around telling people or telling me that I was just so privileged all of this time.

I think grandfather would love you I really do

#emily haines #Sephora #lip gloss boost in your America #Kelsie cashin #used Beauty products #dr Langs severe hatred for Indian women really? #aids #stds #oh fuck me #ugh she guesses #jealousy I reckon ha #Joy Cooper and Stephanie bryant #steps but desperation #Billy Corgan #ain’t my desperation #fresh she said #restaurant eating #yeasty

[good--merits-accumulated]

god writing the first bits of the italian renaissance au is so gruelling. i feel like putting up a big sign on top of the text that says I PROMISE I'M NOT WOOBIFYING TODD. HE'S A GROWN MAN WHO GETS A NUANCED PERSONALITY I PROMISE IT'S JUST THAT ALL THE OTHER CHARACTERS ARE LOOKING AT HIM WRONG. PLEASE

#this post is about todd but really it applies to the whole triumvirate #besides it's a renaissance au - i'd go amiss if i didn't include SOME themes on perception/performance/political personas etc. #like. niccolò/neil is PERCEIVED as a young swaggering military captain and a ladies' man and a dandy #and IS a gentle and kind man who understands deeply his own prowess for fighting and for political maneuvering #and wants none of it #and tommaso/todd is PERCEIVED as a lamb among wolves - the most naive and innocent and vulnerable cardinal in rome #and he IS a man who is kind “in despite of” - not “in the lack of” #and he IS a man whose heavily religious worldview comes down around his ears and who becomes just. suffused with guilt #a man who discovers he has the potential for great cruelty and who spends the rest of his life retreating from that revelation #horrified by the inner workings of his own soul #and andrea is PERCEIVED as a solemn and stately young politician who's a stickler for rules and a fantastic orator #and he IS. well. yeah no that is actually pretty accurate #except for the queer streak of jealousy that ruins him in the end #also i reckon the rule-sticking gets thrown out the window around the first political assassination. #that's corruption!!!!! baby!!!!!! #anderperry #these tags got unreasonably long. my bad #tristan writes

[halforcdad]

Ever since the crossover was announced for season 2, I've been hoping for a scene where either Ernie or Knight has to third wheel for Kacy as payback for Lucy being their suffering third wheel in the first crossover and from the looks of it, my dreams are coming true just look at them being all smitten and flirting, not giving a fuck that Ernie's right there, in his own lair no less LMAO

But they got Kate awkwardly third wheeling with Ernie and Knight, too, which means Kate can now be a good partner and share Lucy's burden of always being caught in the middle Ernie's love life, a harrowing experience they can now bond over

#ncis hawaii #kacy #depending on the time gap between s1 finale and s2 tho #this might not be ernies first third wheeling rodeo lmao #first dahlia and then knight let lucy rest #tho she volunteered to wingman for ernie so she invited the Dahlia energy into her home willingly #idky both sides of kacy having to thirdwheel for ernie and knight is so amusing to me #ik a lot of ppl want some kacy and knight jealousy #but i honestly think kates gonna be either too annoyed or too weirded out to pull her alina 'wow shes so competent' thing with knight lmao #tori mentioned a funny scene where whistler has to get everyone back on track and i reckon its this one #like what are yall doing to poor whistler LMAO

[softquietsteadylove]

Spicy 04 - Outside

"Really, I'm good," Gilgamesh declined, rooting himself to the spot as they pulled at him with all their mortal might.

"Come on, Champion," one of the women squealed in their glee. She pulled at one of his arms fruitlessly. "You are always in the forges."

"Surely the Goddess prefers you refreshed."

Gil blushed at the way they implied that Thena would just come and collect him for...that. "I don't know if you want to put words in the Goddess' mouth, girls."

"Indeed."

The women sprang off Gilgamesh at her appearance. She looked every bit the part of the Goddess of War, the patron saviour of Athens. She strode over with long strides, white toga, shimmering silks and gold adorning her. The ladies feigned some remorse as they bowed to her. "Goddess Athena."

She ignored their greeting, long used to the manipulation of her name. She looked right at Gilgamesh. "Well, are you finally going to join them today, Champion?"

He smiled; he thought it was funny to imagine she was jealous in situations like these. Which she had told him herself he was incorrect about, of course. "Do I ever, Goddess?"

Thena looked back at the human women, who shrank more under her unwavering gaze. She raised her hand, a trident appearing at her will. She sent it straight into the wall of the bath, the water swiftly escaping through the cracks in the stone. "It seems this bath is out of commission. Find someone to repair it."

Gil chuckled as the women scurried off, eager to escape the ire of their deity. He squeezed her shoulder, "come on, you know they're harmless."

Thena grabbed his shoulder in return, all but dragging him to the temple called hers.

Gil grunted as his back hit cool, shaded side of the column. Thena was on him already, kissing him hard, grasping the front of his robes. His hands moved over her arms, bare, save for the golden bands around her biceps. "Thena."

She didn't reply, just demanded more from him as her tongue pushed into his mouth. She wasn't usually in the mood to talk after incidences like these. The only thing she wanted to do was feel him.

Gil let her have her way, giving over all she wanted and thensome. He moaned as she arched her back and her shoulders rose, pressing herself closer to him. She pressed closer still, raising a knee between his legs. He grunted as she made contact.

Thena flipped their positions, pressing her hands to the limestone and looking at him over her shoulder. He knew what she was asking, although she knew that he preferred closer, softer, sweeter. But he understood what she wanted, winding her hair over her shoulder so he could at least see her a little--could at least kiss her neck.

Gil groaned as she pushed her ass into him, knowing damn well how ready he was. He parted her toga in the front, reaching around to run his fingers against her before pushing it out of his way. She was ready too.

Thena let out a long, loud moan as he pushed into her. Second only to when she was literally on top of him, feeling him push into her from behind always managed to make her knees go numb. She gripped the stone as he held her hips with one hand, already moving steadily. The other hand came up, unclasping the cascading layers of silk around her until he could pull the folds of her toga open as far down as he could manage. Despite their shaded spot she could feel the warmth of the sun on the bare skin of her back.

Gil let out another moan as he felt her tighten around him, the air on her skin washing over her senses for a moment. He leaned forward, desperate kiss her spine, her shoulders, her neck--any part of her he could reach. He pressed his hand over hers, both of them bracing their impact. Her hips met his with every move. Jealousy really brought out her possessive side.

As if she could read his mind - and wanted to argue with him - she extended her arms, pushing against him even harder. It was a challenge, and he took it evenly. His hand lifted her hips easily, parting her legs further. His palm pressed against the skin below her stomach until she could feel nothing else but him.

"Gil, fuck," she whined. She always became more vocal like this. "Yes, just like that."

His vision blurred. He liked it when she was vocal. "Fuck, Thena."

"Fuck, yes, yes, harder." So demanding, his Goddess.

Thena's hands flexed, digging her nails into the stone until it cracked against her strength. Her forehead, or rather the tiara of her armour, made contact with the stone as Gil leaned everything he had into her. Her spine curved at a steep angle, hips held still as he drove them closer to the edge together. "Gil!"

Gilgamesh buckled as she came, everything about her surrounding him and taking over his every sense as he fell with her. Their hips ground together as they both rode out the ecstasy of it, evidence of their entanglement dripping down between them.

Thena purred as her spine relaxed, still leaning against the cool limestone. She let it touch her hot flushed cheek until Gil spun her around again, kissing her. She let him; he had fulfilled her demands. It was her turn.

Gil sighed as her arms came to rest over his shoulders, slowly folding around his neck and then sliding over his opposite shoulders again. He pulled away, taking in the glow of her skin, the quickness of her breath, the way her hair flew around her freely. This was what he missed whenever they fucked with her facing away from him.

Thena let him brush her hair back and then trail his finger down over her cheek. It came to rest at her chin, his thumb swiping over her plumped lips. It was a movement far more intimate than some open air fucking. Far more intimate than anything any human could imagine doing with him in their debaucherous little imaginations.

Gil kissed her again, softer and sweeter. And she returned the kiss just as lovingly. He sighed, "I miss this, y'know. I want to look at you in all your glory."

Thena let him shower his flowery words over her. He liked doing it, and she would never admit in this millennia or the next that she never wanted him to stop. "You're looking at me now."

"And how glorious it is," he grinned, kissing her again. He looked at the column behind them as they pulled away. "Well, it's in better shape than last time."

Last time Phastos had needed to replace a massive section of the stone, crushed by either him or Thena or both of them (in the heat of the moment). He had asked, and then regretted asking immediately.

But Thena didn't mind the damage at all, not even to the temple they'd erected for her own comfort and leisure. Let them see, she figured. It was yet another way of letting them know that Gilgamesh - Athena's mighty Champion - was not for their entertainment.

#Thenamesh #Thenameshweek #Thenameshweek2022 #listen #jealous Thena #would be a force to be reckoned with #and while I don't think it would be a staple of them #to be jealous often #jealousy is usually petty and borne from insecurity #but I think Thena would like proving that he is hers in every way #and that includes physically #She's so quiet and reserved #and then she has to watch Gil get hit on #and suddenly she's all over him #and what is he going to do #complain? #Thenamesh 18+

[alcoholicasshole]

The problem is mediocrity is it or is it that you need equanimity? You probably don’t need to come back to this planet as a white racist.

Dental work and bread, Mark and his family thought they would be the new knee

Well now, if that’s the case about that knee he may actually have gotten his daughter killed and he doesn’t even realize it

What if all white people in America move to another country and then they can brag to those people about croissants and do you know that it’s Mark Saderholm’s narcissistic personality disorder, which will keep him stuck here for the rest of his life?

No, that’s how you say croissant you’re not saying it right even though you’ve lived in France your whole life hey what if we went to France and we trafficked more children for money? Isn’t that right? Mark Saderholm or Mart or whatever that’s what John Rigney told me.

And if I find out that you and your daughter has technologically abused me, I will make sure that you’re both paying for the rest of your miserable lives. You almost made me wonder if your daughter can’t find employment because she’s a fucking thief. Oh cause she’s ugly I see.

#human trafficking #dental work #croissant #bread #cultured trash I reckon #so much smarter than the original four year olds:) #mark Saderholm and his KY incest tribe #French #Arabic #jealousy #you can’t either he said haha #electroshock torture #ha #Lobotomy #bread sports #Persian #what woods? I may gotchu a lil

[dannyricsmirrorball]

obsessed • pg10 ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairings || pierre gasly x girlfriend!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || inspired by olivia rodrigo’s obsessed. reader is pierre’s new girlfriend who happens to be a pop-star who can’t shake off this obsession she has with his ex.

alt. y/n is obsessed with pierre's ex.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || jealousy? reference to pierre & kika as exes, reader is kind of crazy

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || psa. i love kika so no hate!!!

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and 109,082 others

yourusername kisses <3

tagged pierregasly

pierregasly mon amour ❤️

⤷ yourusername mon cœur ❤️

username18 awww i love them sm

username1 last photo is sawr cute

alexandrasaintmleux charles has a picture just like that

⤷ yourusername ofc he does 🙄

⤷ charles_leclerc ?!?

⤷ pierregasly don’t be embarrassed calamari 😉

username73 does she remind anyone else of kika?

⤷ username14 i agree! like her vibes are so similar and even the photos she takes w pierre remind me of kika and pierre

⤷ username36 yeah she’s an international popstar and kika is a glorified influencer… so similar liked by yourusername

⤷ username2 no need to hate on kika, she’s a really popular model but i agree they aren’t the same

⤷ username36 y/n liked my comment?! and then unliked 😭

gracieabrams cutie pie

liked by yourusername, username17, and 17,092 others

f1couxples missing our favourite couple 💔

tagged pierregasly, francisca.cgomes

username13 they were so perfect why did they have to break up?!

username64 he’s in a relationship!!! get over it, u don’t know these people!

username18 they’ve both moved on lol

username91 everybody moved on… i stayed here

username83 i’m deadddd not y/n accidentally liking 😭

⤷ username77 hahahah this isn’t even the first time like girl u are not beating the stalking pierre’s tags allegations

⤷ username35 i reckon she stalks kika’s tags actually 😭 there’s been times she’s liked kika fan acc posts by accident bahahahah

⤷ username9 she’s so feral,, pierre literally left kika for her and she’s still acting like this

⤷ username61 you’d think she was in love w HER and not pierre

liked by yourusername, lailahasanovic, and 135,864 others

francisca.cgomes last night 👄

username81 the prettiest girl in the world

username14 y/n lurking in the likes yet again 😭

⤷ username74 aren’t they friends tho?

⤷ username46 i mean pierre broke up w her for y/n so erm idk if kika would call her a friend

⤷ username71 you’d think they’re best friends from how often i see her on kika’s page

username17 pierre fumbled

⤷ username62 he fumbled a baddie for another more unhinged crazier baddie

liked by username72, username10, and 14,029 others

f1wagcentral kika talking about y/n on portuguese radio show some time ago - when her and pierre were still together (10/3/2023)

username61 nah her saying jealousy, jealousy is crazy

⤷ username3 why? i’m new to the fandom

⤷ username61 basically jealousy, jealousy is about kika - well allegedly but it’s really obvious

⤷ username3 oh i thought they were good friends when kika and pierre were together?

⤷ username61 well i mean yeah but everyone else could tell that she was in love w pierre (even kika)

username35 forever missing the friendship we could’ve had between these two

liked by username79, yourusername, and 21,029 others

f1wagcentral NEW! ex-wag kika talking about her ex boyfriend, pierre gasly’s current girlfriend, y/n y/l/n’s new album GUTS. (13/1/2024)

username14 kika is better than me bc if my ex left me for his girl best friend he told me not to worry about (that acted like my best friend and wrote songs about me) i would not be this nice

username61 classy girl

username91 i could not be kika bc her situation would ruin y/n’s music for me but like i could not imagine life without it 😭

username2 why are they still asking this poor girl questions abt her ex’s ex?

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, flavy.barla, and 183,761 others

yourusername loml

tagged pierregasly

username13 pinterest couple

username63 gagged bc isn’t this the same dress kika wore last week

⤷ username4 yes. yes it is. 😭

pierregasly ❤️

⤷ yourusername ❤️

username35 making me feel single in every way possible

charles_leclerc 3rd slide 🥵

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux 2nd slide 🥵

⤷ yourusername 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

⤷ pierregasly 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

liked by magui_corceiro, alexandrasaintmleux, and 98,747 others

francisca.cgomes reflexões

username81 the prettiest girl ever

alexandrasaintmleux 😍

magui_corceiro lindaaa 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

username46 out of this world

ben_thorne cool girl

carmenmmundt gorgeous ❤️

liked by pierregasly, alpinef1, and 150,738 others

yourusername play mirrors by justin timberlake

username18 she’s crazy

username84 no way she just blatantly copied kika 😭😭

⤷ username17 wow mirror selfies how original

⤷ username84 i mean u have to admit it can’t be a coincidence that she posted a post w all mirror selfies even mentioning it in the caption right after kiak did the same thing. but i can’t blame her after everyone keeps rubbing kika and pierre in her face still

pierregasly mon cœur ❤️

⤷ alex_albon mate she’s crazy

⤷ lilymhe but she’s free!

alexandrasaintmleux y/n 😭

⤷ yourusername alex 😛

charles_leclerc HAHAHAHHA

liked by alex_albon, lewishamilton, and 128,208 others

yourusername love ya london

tagged pierregasly, lewishamilton

username17 my parents frrrr

username83 not sir lewis 💀

lewishamilton 🤣

username91 almost forgot she was a singer bc we’ve been in a music DROUGHT

username73 THIS IS NOT A DRILL Y/N BACK IN THE STUDIO!! 🚨

sabrinacarpenter keen baby 💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

pierregasly love ya 😜

⤷ yourusername 😐

pierregasly belle ❤️

pierregasly my pretty gorgeous girlfriend

pierregasly mon amour 🙏

⤷ yourusername no. stop trying.

⤷ pierregasly but you let alex listen?!

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m her wife ofc she let me listen

⤷ pierregasly dégagé

⤷ charles_leclerc stay mad

⤷ pierregasly NO HIM TOO???

⤷ alex_albon when u said alex hope u know that meant both…

⤷ lilymhe and me 😊

⤷ pierregasly wtf.

⤷ charles_leclerc mate i think it’s better for YOU not to listen

username17 omg what do we think the new music is about?! she didn’t let pierre listen but everyone else??? a love song?!

⤷ alex_albon you could call it that i guess…

liked by yourusername

liked by ben_thorne, yukitsunoda0511, and 201,829 others

yourusername 🔜

username81 i can’t wait any longerrrr

username2 album? ep? single?

⤷ yourusername single 💋💋

⤷ username2 we’ll take what we can get!!!

username62 the song HAS to be a love song she keeps using pics of pierre

⤷ username3 or she’s just that obsessed

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux @yourusername lol

⤷ yourusername lol.

⤷ charles_leclerc HAHHAAHHAHAH

⤷ username3 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

francisca.cgomes excited 💗!!!

⤷ yourusername 🤍

⤷ username7 y/n kika interaction in the good year of 2024 🙏

username17 eeee so excited

username65 finally a love song from our queen!

username80 awww can’t wait for a cutsie love song for pierre

alex_albon everyone in the comments is in for a nice surprise

⤷ yourusername 😭

liked by sabrinacarpenter, pierregasly, and 309,028 others

yourusername obsessed out now on all platforms (+mv) 💋

username71 AHHAHA NO FUCKING WAY

username9 that shit hittttt

francisca.cgomes can’t wait abt to give a listen 🩷

⤷ username81 oh- girl…

⤷ username7 the deleted comment 😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux my unhinged wife 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

charles_leclerc crazy woman

username4 her BLOOD TYPE?!

landonorris banger i reckon

username61 IS SHE GOOD IN BED? girl if u don’t stand tf upppp

username7 all this sleep lost over a french man

pierregasly mon dieu bebe😭

⤷ yourusername i love you 🥰

⤷ pierregasly i love you too…

username16 i get her tho i mean i would also be obsessed w my bf’s ex if she was kika mf gomes

⤷ username7 valid but like also shes y/n mf y/l/n

username81 everyone gagged but this is the same girl who wrote jealousy jealousy allegedly also abt kika 😭😭

⤷ username72 also i feel like her online behaviour very much supports this song…

username27 need someone to make a run down of the lyrics and the irl counterparts

⤷ f1couxples on it 🫡

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 1,082,747 others

pierregasly my crazy baby released a song about how crazy she is for me ❤️

tagged yourusername

yourusername crazy for u baby 🥹

⤷ pierregasly my gremlin

charles_leclerc you make her seem so sweet

username61 my guys is loving this

username84 i just know pierre secretly loves that she’s so feral about him

landonorris 🦶🦶?!? @yourusername

⤷ yourusername fuck off

username73 still need that lyric breakdown

⤷ f1couxples coming up

liked by username8, username74, and 20,0828 others

f1couxples BREAKDOWN of obsessed by y/n y/l/n

singer-songwriter, y/n y/l/n, the girlfriend of pierre gasly has released a song obsessed that many fans suspect is about the driver’s ex girlfriend - francisca gomes. for context, y/n and pierre are childhood best friends. during the time kika and pierre dated (2022-2023) fans observed y/n’s somewhat jealous behaviour which finally materialised when pierre left kika and after a matter of weeks was seen with his best friend.

here’s a breakdown of some of the lyrics! reminder this is all personal opinion and no hate to anyone involved!

If I told you how much I think about her

You'd think I was in love

And if you knew how much I looked at her pictures

You would think we're best friends

this in general just can be brought down to all the times y/n has been caught accidentally liking fan acc posts of kika or kika&pierre. stalking queen 🫡🫡

'Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type

in the third picture we have a screenshot from an interview on a popular portuguese radio show. she talks about how y/n did her entire zodiac chart!

She's talented, she's good with kids

random but kika is known for her large family and often posts with her many little cousins and nieces/nephews - especially when she was with pierre (last slide)

She even speaks kindly about me, ha-huh

the third photo is a screenshot from interview kika did in barcelona- she praises y/n and gives many nice comments. there are various other instances where kika says kind words about y/n.

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

the 5th photo in the carousel is from the 2023 vegas gp, kika’s visibly upset facial expression and the physical distance between the couple is apparently due to a fight they had earlier in the paddock. bystanders and a small audio evidence clip suggest that pierre accidentally called kika ‘y/n’ during their argument - so really pierre actually mistook kika for y/n 😬

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

obviously pierre moved on very quickly with y/n (many believing he broke up with kika just to be with y/n) as well kika has been seen on dates since the break up. additonallu, although the pair still follow eachother and have stated they remain friends- kika and pierre have not liked any posts of the others and haven’t been seen interacting even when kika has visited the paddock.

Is she friends with your friends? Is she good in bed?

as seen in the fourth photo, kika was very good friends with pierre’s friends especially his trainer ben thorne and close friend ilies nadri. as well, all of pierre’s friends still follow kika including charles leclerc.

francisca.cgomes uploaded to their story

francisca.gomes uploaded to their story

yourusername uploaded to their story

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

first one in awhile! lmk what u think x

#formula 1 #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #social media au #charles leclerc x reader #alexandra saint mleux #francisca cerqueira gomes #kika gomes #lando norris #lily muni he #formula 1 x reader #formula one

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 6

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort

Part 6: “Just Casual”

A few days after the house fire that claimed the life of Paul Richardson, father of two, Chief Bobby Singer was joined in his office by Detectives Winchester and Novak, along with his resident Squad Captain and Truck Lieutenant, Benny and Dean.

“The Richardson fire has officially been determined an arson,” Bobby revealed.

“They found a time-delay incendiary device hidden in the attic. No fingerprints. But that’s not even the odd thing,” he said. “The medical examiner found a brand mark on his wrist that was inconsistent with his other burns. Which is why you’re here, I reckon.”

Bobby directed his gaze at both John and Cas, who didn’t look surprised to hear this news.

Dean raised a brow. His gaze shifted to his father, but John only met his stare for a moment before he answered Bobby’s unspoken question.

“We’ve been investigating a series of murders in the area over the past six months,” John said. “Each victim died in their home, with the same brand somewhere on their body. Typically the wrist, or the back of the neck.”

“So we officially have a serial killer turned arsonist on our hands,” Bobby concluded. His attention shifted to Benny and Dean. “Keep this close to the vest, but keep your eyes open.”

“Arsonists are hard to catch,” Dean said, looking to the detectives. “What do you know about this guy?”

Cas glanced at John. The older man could feel his stare, but had to ignore it for now.

“Not much as of yet,” John said. “Right now he’s a coil of smoke, if you’ll pardon the phrase. Our psychologist says he’s most likely a white male, statistically speaking. College educated, or at the very least intelligent, efficient, and so far, he thinks every step through. Like he said, no prints. But the brand is a message.”

“To who, and why, is what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Cas added. “We think that’s the key to pinpointing a suspect.”

“Really,” Dean said. He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “Six months, and that’s all you’ve got?”

“Dean,” John started, but the Lieutenant shook his head.

“Come on, Dad. I know you. Who is this guy?”

“Dean, this is the best I can give you right now, but believe me, we’re working on it,” John said, that tone that boded no further argument.

Bullshit, Dean wanted to shoot back. But he held his tongue for now. He knew that John wouldn’t budge. Instinct still told Dean that his father was holding something back though.

As the men filtered out of Bobby’s office, Dean held Cas back for a moment.

“Watch the old man’s back, all right,” Dean said. “He’s got a penchant for being reckless.”

Cas gave him a wry, pointed look. “I’m doing my best. Winchesters are a stubborn lot.” 

Dean smirked and walked out with him. Meg was headed inside, having just come in from an ambulance call. She smiled when she saw her boyfriend.

“Hey, lover,” she greeted. And she smacked his ass in front of God and the entire Rescue Squad, who liked to sit outside the firehouse and play cards at their table.

Ramirez and the others smirked and called out their customary whoops and cat calls. Dean smirked at the actual blushing discomfort that tightened up Cas’s face and shoulders.

“Dinner tonight at Casablanca’s, right?” Meg asked, unfazed by the catcalling peanut gallery.

“Right,” Cas said stiffly. But he still brushed her cheek with his thumb in affection. “See you later.”

“Yep,” she nodded, though she shot Dean a wry brow. “What? I stole your boyfriend. Get over it.”

She continued on her path back inside the firehouse, leaving Dean and Cas to stare after her in annoyance and begrudging fondness, respectively.

Dean turned to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck and Godspeed, my friend. That woman’s fuckin’ terrifying.” 

Cas gave him a lazy salute as he walked away. He found that John had already started up their police car. He was in the driver’s seat, as always, with a hand resting casually on the steering wheel.

Dean typically sat in much the same way. Cas thought both men were more comfortable in a car than anywhere else in life. Except, maybe, the precinct and the firehouse.

Cas slid into the passenger seat and gave his partner a knowing look.

“I still think you should tell Sam and Dean what’s really happening here,” he said.

John looked over at him with an almost unreadable expression. But they had been partners for a few years now; long enough for Cas to get a read on the older veteran.

“I understand why you want to keep them out of this, but now this guy is starting fires. Here, in Dean’s district,” Cas pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be safer for him if he had clearer eyes walking into the next one?”

If, God forbid, something should go wrong on the next call Dean responded to, John would never forgive himself. Both he and Cas knew this, but John never answered his partner’s question. He didn’t want his sons getting their noses in this just yet, even if it meant the worry he saw in Dean’s eyes.

So he put the car in “drive” and peeled away from the firehouse.

Trying to match your schedule with Dean’s was a challenge you two were trying to figure out. Though you’d fallen into a pattern of talking on the phone to fill the void when you two couldn’t meet.

Even after almost two more weeks and a third date, you were pleasantly surprised that you and Dean still had plenty to talk about. You told him more about your childhood with your grandparents, while he told you funny stories about him and Sam growing up with their dad, though he was often gone while working on cases.

It was family friend and Fire Chief, Bobby Singer who looked after them whenever John couldn’t, or his old partner Jody Mills, or even Ellen Harvelle, owner of the Roadhouse.

The more you learned about Dean, the more invested you became. And he listened to you when you went on tangents about new recipes you wanted to try out (as long as he got to be your official Taste Tester).

You two argued, playfully and fervently, about music. And you’d been creating a list of old shows the other hadn’t seen, but absolutely needed to.

Dean had suggested Dukes of Hazzard, for example, while you suggested Smallville. You each only agreed to put up with this list if you two watched it together. (Needless to say, there would be some marathon binge watching in your future.)

You particularly took notice though, when Dean invited you to join him at the Roadhouse to meet Cas, one of his best friends, and his girlfriend Meg. You’d invited Andréa to come along, and even Dean’s friend Benny, who she’d also been seeing ever since that night at the Roadhouse.

Apparently, the couple had their own plans.

You tried not to feel some type of way about her brush-off, but your friend had been increasingly distant since she met Benny Lafitte. However, you supposed you couldn’t judge. You hadn’t been calling her as much either, ever since you met Dean.

You knew that if you kept dating him, some adjustments would have to come in your life. You also promised yourself that you’d never be someone who forgot your friends for a man…even for a man like Dean Winchester.

Tonight, however, you’d come directly from work to meet him at the bar. It made more sense than to make him come pick you up from your house, so you sat with a ginger ale while you waited. He’d promised you via text that he was on the way, just stuck in traffic.

Okay, drive safe. 😘 Don’t speed, please.

You knew how he liked floor the Impala with that damn lead foot of his.

No promises. 🏎️

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were smiling unconsciously as you read his reply.

You were soon knocked out of your thoughts when a smooth voice said your name. You looked up and to your right, and there stood a familiar face. The man greeted you with an easy smile as he sat down next to you.

“I thought that was you,” he said. He reached out his hand and re-introduced himself. “Gordon Walker. Not sure if you remember me.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I do, Gordon,” you smiled and shook his hand.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. His dark eyes subtly took you in from head to toe in your skirt, heels, and blouse. “Though I’ve gotta admit, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Ah, right,” you said. “Well—”

Before you could explain, Gordon held up a finger as he noticed your drink of choice.

“Oh, wait a sec. Let me get you something stronger than soda,” he said. He started to flag down Jo, but you shook your head and made a cutting motion with your hand.

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant.

It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush. You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh. Your hand clenched on the counter.

While your brain scrambled to figure out a response that would successfully remove it (without snapping rudely like you were itching to), a hand slipped along your lower back.

You jolted a bit in your seat with a flare of unease, until you turned your head and found Dean.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and dropped a kiss at your hairline. He also clapped a heavy hand on Gordon’s shoulder and squeezed. The other man graciously got the hint and leaned back, withdrawing his hand from your thigh.

“Hi,” you said, finally able to breathe a bit easier. You gave Dean a smile, and he returned it.

He looked over at his friend with a sharper smile. “Hey, Gord. How’s your night goin’?”

“Good.” Gordon nodded, now with a knowing gleam in his eye. “Though I’m sure your night’s gonna go better.”

You weren’t sure how to take that remark, considering the way Dean reacted with a tighter expression and pursed lips. Then, they flickered at a smile.

“Well, we’re meeting up with Meg and Cas in a minute. You should join us,” Dean said. Even though his tone wasn’t so very inviting. The two men seemed to have a wordless conversation between the lines that you couldn’t decipher.

Gordon shook his head, but raised his drink. “No worries, you guys hang. I’m leaving in a few.”

“All right. Let us know if you change your mind,” Dean said. He thumped Gordon once more on the back, more friendly this time.

Dean’s other hand slipped around your waist. He tapped you on the side.

“Come on, I’ve got us a table. It’s quieter,” he said.

You nodded and slid out of your seat. You offered Gordon a polite smile, even if you’d rather not.

“Have a good night,” you said.

The other man’s smile was less flirtatious and more polite this time as well.

“You too,” he said. 

Dean helped you onto your feet, like the gentleman he was, and he continued to lead you away from the bar with a hand on the small of your back. You instinctively pressed against his side to squeeze past the throng of patrons.

When you reached a high-top table in the corner, he pulled out your chair and held your hand as you climbed up in your skirt. You thanked him with a more genuine smile. Though once he was seated next to you, you leaned towards him and laid a hand on his arm, which rested on the table.

“I tried to tell him I was waiting for you. He took me by surprise,” you whispered.

Dean’s brows rose, but his face soon evened out with a smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry about it. He didn’t know about us,” he said. “He was shootin’ his shot…a bit aggressively. Sorry about that.”

“Oh…it’s okay. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you replied. Though butterflies ran through your belly when you considered what us meant.

You noted his frown at what you’d said though, and so you aimed to change the subject.

“But Cas and Meg know, right?” you asked.

Dean nodded. His frown started to lift. “Yeah. Cas is one of my best friends. Meg is…well. She’s the little sister I wish I didn’t have.”

You shook your head in amusement. Then you let out a squeal as Dean hooked a foot around the leg of your chair and brought you closer. He stopped you from becoming too unbalanced by wrapping an arm around your waist. You clenched your hands into the open panels of his plaid shirt, and his charming smile greeted you.

“Hi,” he said.

You laughed. “Yeah, you mentioned that earlier.”

“Well, I’m doing it right this time,” he said. And he dipped down for a lingering kiss.

Across the bar was Jo Harvelle, doing her job behind the counter. She poured five shots in succession and doled them out to a party of frat bros without even looking.

Her eyes were drawn to the back corner of the bar, where you and Dean sat closely together, exchanging whispers and the occasional steamy kiss.

“Mind your business,” came Ellen’s whisper in her ear.

Jo whipped her head to glare softly at her mother, but she saw Ellen’s point. It was both obvious and pathetic of her to stare.

Despite the unease making her feel a bit sick to her stomach, Jo went over to Gordon down at the end. His sympathetic smile bothered her; she knew then she hadn’t just been caught by her mother.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“What?” Jo said. She began wiping down his area of the counter. “Would it kill you to keep it in the glass?”

Gordon gave her an amused look as he sat back in his seat. His tumbler of whiskey was drained.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” he said.

Both of them knew he wasn’t apologizing for the spill.

Jo’s brows knitted together, mostly in annoyance. “Again, for what?”

“I know it’s gotta be hard to see him actually moving on,” he replied.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes darted to the back of the room again. She stared for a moment at the side of your face.

“Knowing him, whatever it is won’t last,” she muttered.

Gordon hissed at the "burn," with a deep chuckle. She knew her words weren’t kind, but it was how she felt.

“That may be,” he allowed. “But he’s not just chasing tail anymore. That’s what scares you.” 

Gordon dropped a nice tip for her next to his glass. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and left Jo with the churning in her gut.

Cas and Meg finally arrived a few minutes later.

Dean knew you’d been to the Roadhouse before, but this was different. You were meeting some of his friends, and he realized how much he wanted you to. He felt…comfortable around you. And he wanted his friends to know you, and to like you.

“As you know, Meg’s our Paramedic in Charge over at 25,” he began, gesturing at the woman as she got settled in her seat.

You admired her long brown hair, tall boots, and black leather jacket. She seemed to ooze confidence and dark charisma as she tossed you a smirk.

“Guilty,” she said.

You smiled back. Dean gestured at her boyfriend next, clad in a beige trench coat, slacks, and blazer.

“And Cas, who bravely suffers being my dad’s partner on the job.”

Cas nodded wryly at the introduction. His dark hair and blue eyes were striking, you could admit. His tie was loose and slightly rumpled. Along with the stubble coating his face, he was handsome, if a bit scruffy. It was hard for you to believe he’d earned the top scores his year in the Police Academy, but you supposed that looks could be deceiving.

“What’s that like?” you asked with a smirk. “From what I’ve heard about John Winchester, he sounds like he’s a bit of a hard-ass.”

Dean barked with a dry laugh. “An understatement.”

“He has a crab-like shell,” Cas agreed. “But he has a soft center where it counts, not unlike his sons.”

You turned to Dean with a more teasing smile. “Aww…”

He rolled his eyes, even though his arm, which had been draped across the back your chair, now dropped to curl around your waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Columbo,” he remarked at his blue-eyed friend.

Always had to get the last dig in, it seemed, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little along with Meg at Cas’s expense.

“You guys all seem really close,” you said. It was nice for you to see.

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. Or rather, like it was commonplace.

“Well, maybe family ain’t just about blood,” he said.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What a friggin’ sap.”

“You love it,” Dean grinned. She smiled, begrudgingly.

Family ain’t just about blood.

You liked that sentiment as well. It seemed to be true here. 

Even Ellen Harvelle treated Dean like a son when she came over to greet your table. She kissed his cheek and gave Meg and Cas’s shoulders a squeeze. Even you got a warm hand on your shoulder when she introduced herself.

“Welcome, hun. I understand it’s not your first time here, but if you got any questions on the menu, you let me know,” she said.

Dean shot you a conspiratorial smile, and it got you wondering what he was about to do.

“I mean, I don’t know why you don’t put the order in for chili fries the second you see me come through the door,” he teased. “Come on, Ellen. How long’ve I been coming here? Since before I had a license?”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and flicked the side of Dean’s head, regardless of his flinching protest.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that so damn loud,” she reproached. “You never drank underage at my bar.”

His eyes averted with a smile, in a way that told you Ellen was a damn liar. You bit your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Anyway, I’ll get your damn fries—”

“And a beer,” Dean interjected. She rolled her eyes.

“And a beer. Four?” she pointed at the rest of you, and you, Cas, and Meg nodded in agreement.

“All right, four beers. Anything else, darlin’?” She looked at you with a mother’s charm.

You looked up from the menu and unconsciously smiled.

“Um, sure. Can I get the chicken sandwich?”

She patted your shoulder. “You sure can.”

Ellen then took the rest of their orders without writing a thing down. You were impressed by her memory. At the end though, Dean didn’t let her go without a hand on her arm.

“Thanks, Ellen,” he said with a more sincere smile.

“A-huh,” she replied, with all due sarcasm. But there was a fondness in her eyes that was hard to miss when she playfully grabbed the back of his neck. “Knucklehead.”

A giggle escaped you, and Ellen tossed you a wink before she went to put in the orders and get the drinks.

Conversation flowed easier when the alcohol came. One beer became two, and even three (four, for Meg). By then, you were sure it was one beer too many for yourself, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out. You were mostly listening to the three of them bounce back and forth between reminiscing with old stories and roasting one another mercilessly.

It was hilarious and entertaining, but you were trying not to get caught in the crosshairs of the volleying. Inevitably though, Meg’s attention turned to you with a certain sly smile.

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Meg,” Dean’s voice cut like a warning.

Your eyes widened as you took in the change, his deeper voice, his more serious gaze, versus Meg’s nonchalance. Even Cas gave her a chiding look.

“Not sure I want to know what that means,” you tried to joke.

But you could guess. It was fairly obvious.

You glanced over at Dean, whose lips pursed. Before either of you could say anything more, Meg chimed in.

“Oooh, is this gonna be your first fight?” she teased.

Dean’s brows furrowed with a glare. “That’s enough.”

“And that’s our cue,” Cas nodded. He’d already slipped out his wallet as soon as his girlfriend started talking. He left a generous few bills to cover their half of the night, plus tip, and got up out of his seat. He claimed his coat and then encouraged Meg off her chair.

“What? I’m not done with my beer,” she protested.

“I think you are,” Cas said.

Meg scoffed, but she allowed his manhandling as he wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

“You’re not the boss of me, Clarence,” she snipped.

“Certainly not,” he agreed. “But you’re a lightweight. Time to go home, before you insult the entire bar.”

“You’re no fucking fair,” she groused, hitting his chest over his jacket. Cas leveled you and Dean with a long-suffering look of apology.

Dean waved him off with a “no sweat it” look and a shake of his head. Meg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, especially when she was drunk. He turned to you with a sigh.

“Again, sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d have to apologize for my friends more than once tonight,” he said.

You shook your head. “It’s...okay. Overall, they were really fun.”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t think Cas has been called fun even once in his life.”

You smiled in amusement, but Meg’s words still swirled around in your head like heady wine.

“Dean,” you began, but your attempt to broach the issue was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He gave you an apologetic look and fished in his pocket for his phone. His brows rose when he saw the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta take this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay—” You’d barely nodded when Dean was up and out of his chair, heading out of the bar. You could still see him through one of the faded glass doors as he held the phone up to his ear.

It was late, and quieter now. A blonde server came to take your plates, and you actually remembered her.

“Oh, hi! Jo, right?” you asked. She hesitated when you spoke, but she bobbed her head.

“That’s me,” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I met your mom. She’s really nice.”

Jo uttered a wry laugh as she stacked the plates and silverware. You helped her collect the silverware and empty beer bottles.

“Yeah, when you get her good side,” she replied. 

You smirked at that, remembering how Ellen snapped back and forth with Dean. You had no doubt that woman could be a pistol if you pissed her off.

“Well, it's nice here,” you admitted, once again taking stock of the décor. The music, the warm lighting, the good food… “It’s cozy.”

Jo’s smile quirked to one side as she paused.

“Well, it’s been in my family for three generations of Harvelles,” she said. “This was my father’s favorite place in the world.”

You caught the note of melancholy in her words, in her eyes.

“Was?” you echoed. She met your gaze and nodded.

“He was a firefighter,” she said. “He died on the job.”

You dimmed considerably. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jo only nodded.

“How did he…” Your curiosity got the best of you, but you soon shook your head and backtracked. “Never mind, you don’t have to explain.”

“It was a fire that wasn’t properly vented,” Jo answered your half-spoken question. Her blue eyes were heavier. “He got caught in an updraft…but he actually worked at Firehouse 25. He was their brother. That’s why this’ll always be their place.”

You processed that with a slow nod of wonder.

“It’s good that you and your mom will always have that support,” you said eventually. “Even though…it might be hard too, to always be reminded.”

Jo’s lips quirked again. “It’s more the first one, but…sometimes the second one. A lot of these guys have known me since I had braces. It’s hard to shake that perpetual little sister thing.”

You smiled at that. “Yeah, I’d imagine that gets old real quick. A bunch of over-protective older brothers.”

“Overbearing, more like,” she scoffed. You laughed.

Unconsciously, you glanced over to the front of the bar, where you saw Dean still on the phone. You remembered the second date you were meant to have, when he was late due to a five-car pileup his team responded to.

You remembered that night he called you for the first time, after a long day he didn’t want to tell you about. He’d let you distract him instead. All the while, it had you wondering what he’d seen. What he’d responded to that day.

Had it been another car accident? A fire? What made someone as upbeat and funny and smooth as Dean seem to lose all the life in his voice?

Though while you were lost in your thoughts, Jo was watching you.

Jealousy roiled inside her, unbidden. She didn’t want to hate you, because unlike the girls Dean usually messed around with, you had some self-respect. Jo heard Meg’s snide clips at you earlier, and no one could fake the surprise in your eyes. Unless you were just that good a damn actor…

But no, she didn’t get that vibe from you.

It didn’t mean she had to like you though. 

“You’re right to think twice,” Jo said, earning your attention back with a swivel of your head. “What Meg said…she wasn’t wrong. Dean’s broken a few hearts, if you catch my drift.”

Just a few well-placed words, Jo thought. She realized then that she had the power to twist the wrench here, widening the gap between you and Dean. Feed your doubts.

She didn’t have to feel bad about it if it was the truth.

And yet…she saw the way your gaze fell. The disappointment setting in, the anxious clench of your hands on the table. You glanced over at Dean again out of the corner of your eye.

Jo realized then just what she was doing, not just to Dean, but to herself.

You’re not some petty bitch, she dully reminded herself.

“But,” she found herself adding. You raised your gaze back to her. Jo let out a subtle breath.

“It’s not always his fault,” she admitted. And maybe she was speaking a bit too much from experience. “The job demands a lot from him.”

Slowly, you nodded. You looked pensive, but not like you’d made up your mind.

Fine, Jo thought, as she collected the dishes and left your table.

She didn’t know if she wanted to sway you one way or the other on taking a chance on Dean Winchester.   

While you were talking to Jo, Dean was taking his father’s unexpected call.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” he said.

“Hey, son. How are ya?” John’s voice was gruff and tired. Dean frowned to hear it.

“I’m good. I’m out right now, but did you need something?”

“Have you responded to any fires lately?”

“You mean like the Richardson fire?” Dean asked pointedly. “No, haven’t had one since. And no cattle prod brandings either.”

“All right, good. Just checking in.”

Good? Dean thought. John would be chomping at the bit for a new arson. If he was “just checking in,” then he was worried about something. Is he worried about me?

“What’s going on? Is there something I need to know?” Dean asked in suspicion. This was why he had taken the call. “Seriously, you can tell me. I’m not even gonna bitch at you like Sam does.”

John chuckled. But then he hesitated. Dean knew he’d hit on something.

“Dad?” he pressed.

John’s sigh was a heavy one. ��Okay. What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in trepidation. “Okay, fine. What the hell is it?”

“Richardson, the father of two?” John reminded. “He was a lawyer, linked to a money laundering scheme through a company called Stull Storage. It’s an old company, dates back to the seventies.”

“Okay…” 

As John continued to explain, the more confused Dean became… 

About 30 years ago, John Winchester had been a young, but promising officer in the Narcotics division. He’d married young, and by then was just barely clearing the five-year mark. Already he had the house he’d inherited from his wife’s parents, a four-year-old son, and a newborn.

Stull Storage’s units were used by a drug ring that John had been trying to infiltrate, undercover. Those units had stored cocaine, illegal weapons, and other flavors of contraband, mostly from South America (and back).

“We got close to breaking that case, once, but after the fire…I transferred out of Narcotics, as you know,” John said.

Dean knew the real story there. After his mom died, his father went into a spiral, trying to find whoever set that fire—even after the Fire Department found no evidence of arson. John had eventually been forced out of Narcotics. He requested Homicide.

As he’d told Dean once when he was extremely drunk: I seem to do better at my job when the bodies are already dead.

“Now I know that I was right about your mother’s death,” John said.

Dean released a shaky sigh. “Aw, man. Not this again, Dad. For Christ’s sake.”

“There was something wrong about that fire, Dean,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Dean’s objections. “I just didn’t find the connection…until now.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. His gaze fell to the ground. Sam was usually the one who drew a hard line at hearing any more about their mom’s supposed murder, but now Dean had reached the end of his tether. It was too much.

He glanced back through the glass doors to make sure you were okay. He saw you talking to Jo, and he frowned at himself.

Here you were, waiting on him back in the bar, and his dad was calling him in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts again.

“Look…it’s been my whole damn life with this.” Dean held the phone to his ear with one hand, and rubbed at his forehead with the other. “I just can’t do this with you anymore.”    

“Dean, listen,” John urged. “You wanna know what I’m digging into, this is it. I got Mary’s file unsealed.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What? Thought you couldn’t do that without new evidence and a court order.”

“Well, I’ve got the evidence…maybe I was a bit impatient with the court order.”

Dean rolled his eyes. His father liked to play a little fast and loose with the rules.

“At the time, the medical examiner dismissed it. She’d been burned…” John paused on a deeper breath. “But I saw it. Mary had a burn on her wrist. It was the same brand found on Richardson. On Jerry Stillwell, CPA. Amanda Waller, journalist. It’s all connected, Dean. How they’re connected to one another, I’m not sure yet. We’re still digging…but I do know this. Richardson was a message.”

Dean’s back hit the wall of the Roadhouse. His brows furrowed as he struggled to digest everything John was saying.

“A message?” he asked. “To who?”

“To me, I think. Those kids, and their mother…you got ‘em out alive, but they weren’t meant to,” John said, his voice sounding heavy. "The wife told me her husband was erratic when he got home, holding his wrist. He'd been burned before the fire. He wouldn't say what happened...then they smelled the goddamn smoke."

"Shit," Dean replied. He leaned heavily against the wall, pressing a hand to his forehead. There was an ache starting between his eyes.

“Yeah," John agreed. "The drug ring I was investigating, when I was in Narcotics. I was getting close. And I mean close. I was about to get the Big Kahuna. The kingpin of the whole operation…and then the house fire.”

Fuck. Dean wiped at his mouth anxiously as he realized what John was saying. Fuck.

“He burned me, Dean. He must have,” John said. Meaning, the drug lord he was trying to pin down somehow discovered his identity. “Your mom paid the price of that.”

“Who is this guy?” Dean asked. His hand holding the phone was starting to tremble.

“I still don’t know his real name. Workin’ on that one too,” John said. “But they called him Azazel.”

When Dean eventually hung up with his father and returned to you at the bar, he saw you brighten. But you soon dimmed with a tinge of worry. Something of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face.

Shit. He tried his best to school his features.

“Hey, sorry about that,” he said, grasping your shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

“I met you here, remember?” you asked.

Dean paused, then shook his head. Get it together, asshole.

“Right," he said. "Well, I’ll walk you to your car. Let me just pay real quick.”

After he sorted out the bill (he didn’t know that you’d slipped in an extra $30 in Cas’s stack for your part), he led you out, saying goodbye to Ellen and Jo while you went.

You hesitated when the two of you got to the car. Something wasn’t right with him. And both Jo and Meg’s words still rolled back and forth through your head.

“Dean, are you okay? Who was it on the phone?” you asked.

“I’m fine. It was just my dad, called to have me take a look at his car. We were just arguing about our schedules…I’m sure you can relate,” he replied, trying at a smile.

You weren’t sure if you believed him. Though he was nearly convincing, he was also shifting on his feet, hands in his pockets. His gaze roamed away from yours, above your head and over your shoulder.

“Um, I might’ve had a beer too many,” you said with a half-chuckle. “Could you walk with me for a bit? Just until my head clears enough to drive.”

“I could take you home,” Dean offered.

“And leave my car here?” you asked. In a public parking lot behind a bar?

You shook your head and pointed down the road.

“Just there and back…but if you need to go, I guess I could just sit in my car for a while.”

Dean shook his head with a frown. He couldn’t tell you that a damn serial killer was on the loose.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s a relatively safe neighborhood, but not so much at night. Not by yourself.”

He laid a hand on your back to start walking with you, but his hand soon fell back to his side. You glanced at him, but he looked straight ahead, unusually quiet and reserved.

It felt like he was checking out of this night with you. Like he just wanted to usher you into the car and leave. Did he just not want to deal with what Meg said?

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

Letting out a breath, you tried to see if you could broach the subject.

“It was nice to meet some more of your friends,” you said, and with a nervous laugh, “even if it did get awkward there at the end.”

Dean finally looked over at you.

“We never exactly talked about what each of us was looking for,” you said. “What we were really doing here.” 

You stood your ground, but you tried not to look censuring. Just open to whatever he might have to say. Even so, unease churned inside you.

Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, she wasn’t exactly wrong about me.”

You considered that with a nod, biting the inside of your lip.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” you asked. Dean gave a humorless huff of a laugh. This really was the last thing he wanted to get into tonight, but he had a feeling he had no choice.

“A few months ago, for about a minute,” he said. “But uh, before then…never.”

Together, you began to cross the street while the cars on either side waited at the red light. Pedestrians had the right of way for the next 30 seconds. You looked over at him and steeled yourself.

“Dean, is this is something casual for you?”

“Define casual,” he attempted to joke (or to deflect). Though the bravado fell the moment he saw that look on your face: tight and disappointed…and hurt.  

He reached for your hand, but you weren’t having it. You slipped away from him and continued walking at a more brusque clip, even in those platform heels.  

“Okay, hold on.” He quickly followed after you and tugged you back by the hand. It had you both stopping in the middle of the crosswalk.  

Dean squeezed your hand and peered into your eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t close up on me,” he implored. “…Please.”

Despite your better judgment, and your pursed lips, you waited. Something told you this man didn’t often say please.

“The truth is, I’m trying to do something different here with you. I don’t think we would’ve made it to date #4 if we were just casual,” he said. “I’m not playing games either.”

You wanted to trust that he was serious. Once again, your mind and your heart were at odds; the former told you to be wary, while the latter told you to trust the earnestness in his eyes.

Your heart won. “Okay, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, with hopeful brows raised.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

You finally smiled. And you leaned up, resting a hand against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His stubble was coarse, but familiar against your lips.

Dean turned his head and leaned in for a proper kiss. His hands found the curve of your waist and brought you closer against his chest. You both sunk deeper into it, your lips gliding as your head tilted into the kiss…

Until a horn honked loudly, making you both jolt at the sound.

The streetlight was green, and several cars were waiting for you to cross. You snorted in amusement, leading Dean to grin down at you. He tugged you back into step with him across the street.

Again, you hesitated at your car. Dean was more himself as he’d held your hand all the way back.

He now held your car door open while you threw in your purse. But when you turned back to him, you still saw something brooding behind his eyes.

You drew near and grasped the open edges of his shirt. This man wore a lot of plaid when he was out of uniform, always with an undershirt. Tonight it was green plaid on gray, complete with some faded jeans and a pair of boots. This was the only “casual” way in which you wanted Dean.  

“Hey,” you started.

“Hmm?” he replied, holding you by your arms.

“I get that we haven’t known each other all that long. So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said. “But did something happen when you stepped out? When you talked to your dad?”

Dean paused. His eyes, a pale green under the streetlamp, flicked to yours.

“I just want to know that you’re okay,” you said. “And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

After a moment to blink in surprise, your earnestness got to him. His grip moved down your arms, and he took one of your hands. His dad’s warning echoed through his mind.

What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.

Dean knew his dad didn’t make demands without a reason, even if he wasn’t typically so forthcoming with them. But Dean drew enough courage to be as honest as he could be. You deserved that much, after everything you'd put up with tonight.

“My mom died...when I was about four,” he said. “It was a house fire.”

Your eyes widened. All this time, you’d assumed his mother had passed away. You hadn’t expected that, though. You squeezed his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, and you meant it. Dean just shook his head.

“It was ruled an accident. Really they just didn’t have much evidence either way,” he continued. “But uh, my dad’s been obsessed with the idea that it wasn’t. That someone started the fire on purpose… Well, today, he might’ve found his proof.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could, but in the end, he just couldn’t. His chest was tight. Saying those words out loud made them real, and he wasn’t sure of how to handle it.  

“Oh, Dean,” you said, starting and stopping, as you struggled to formulate a response that wasn’t just “I’m sorry,” or “Are you okay?” 

He clearly wasn’t. You also didn’t want to give him platitudes like, “That’s crazy,” or the ever-inspired: “Wow.” 

Or some other variation of what you’re supposed to say. You wanted to give him something honest. Something real. 

So you curled your hands around his arms, earning his gaze.

“You must be reeling right now,” you said. “Do you think he’s onto something this time?”  

“I don’t know what to think,” said Dean. “I’ve been pressing him for answers, but…honestly? I wish he hadn’t told me a damn thing.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were surprised that he actually confided in you with this. But the only thing you could think to do was lean up on your toes and slip your arms around his neck. You hugged him, warm and tight. 

You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling, but you just wanted him to know that someone was there for him. You were there for him. 

Dean eventually hugged you back. He held you, reassuring you as well as himself. He blew out a cathartic breath, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips tugged upwards.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” he said. 

A smile spread across your face. Your fingers soothed through his hair gently. You pressed your lips into his neck.

“I aim to please,” you said against his skin.

Dean smiled more fully at that. The new warmth in his chest warred against the roiling in his stomach. Despite his best efforts, his smile faded.

His mom’s killer was still out there.

The thought was haunting his mind, and he knew it probably would for many nights to come.

So for now, he’d just hold you a bit tighter.

AN: 🥲 I honestly didn't mean it to end so angsty, but Dean finally got some much-needed hurt/comfort there! What did you think of how Jo handled her jealous side? And Gordon "shooting his shot" lol.

Coming soon in Part 7, we finally get to a huge milestone between these two lovebirds, with a side helping of baking shenanigans. 😏❤️‍🔥

Next Time:

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

Keep Reading: PART 7

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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#Just Casual #Smoke Eater #Part 6 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

[schwarzkatje]

dark!orphan!ellie x nun!reader || part 3

disclaimer: alright, i'm just gonna say that this is filth in its original form aka contains SMUT that is immoral; offensive to religion if you believe and/or practice the religion implied here; it deals with power dynamics between an educational figure and a supposed pupil even though it has no age gap warning since they are basically the same age; it has violence in the form of slapping; it shows both ellie AND reader being dark characters with questionable morals. so if ANY of this triggers you, i prefer you skip for my but mostly your sake. also, not proofread srry

> for part 1 click here || for part 2 click here

"admit it, you act like a brat all the fucking time because you love it when you get punished," never in a million years would you have thought these words would have exited your mouth. nor would you have entertained the idea of breaking your vows because of something so futile like losing your temper.

except what was happening was proof of how delusional your beliefs and how fragile the rope you were walking on had both been. more specifically what was happening underneath you.

you were straddling ellie, the heels of her feet planted on the mattress and her thighs spread to accommodate your hand as it furiously flicked her pulsating clit and the outer zones of her pussy, drenched in white slick.

the other hand was feigning in her task to handcuff ellie's wrists, as it bore no real force nor did it occur to you that she could break free whenever she decided. you simply ignored it, too drunk off of nothing but a ravaging and ravenous hallucination of retribution. ellie had brought an earthquake inside you, causing casualties in the process, namely what you stood for, the light in your eyes and the faith towards god. in a regained moment of lucidity you could have recognised you were turning into the reflection of ellie's sufferings.

and god, wasn't she willing to dance this macabre tango with you and accept the pleasure that was making her delirious. her hips thrusted up, closer to your fingers, imagining they were your pussy humping her own, riding her in this exact same position that naive you had thought to be a cage for ellie.

"don't lie, you're too – fuck yeah – you're way too good at this. do you fuck the other sisters, when you are done tormenting me, mh?" the contorted expression was the perfect mask to hide the trail of jealousy implied in such an insisting enquiry and to distract from the fact that her eyes would have rolled back to her skull hadn't she been more lucid. "do you suck the pastor's cock when he comes to visit, too?"

"you wish. you wish i had so your fantasies about me get more realistic, don't you?" both your middle and ring finger were exploring the outer region of ellie's intoxicatingly warm hole, with such a slow pace that ellie feared you would stop at any time.

only one hour prior to this enactment of pure debauchery you were busing your mind with paperwork, locked in your room, locked away from ellie. you hadn't planned this.

the exact way you hadn't planned to abandon your dummy remnants of resolution as you let ellie enter your quarters. the exact way you hadn't planned to fight for the umpteenth time knowing it would have resulted in ulterior mortification for you. the exact way you hadn't planned to slap her. for the second time. completely throwing away the memory of ellie promising to make you pay for this the first time you had done it. except, ellie too had seemed to have forgotten all about this threat.

"do it again," ellie had been prompting you, daring you to do it, if not for the fact that she had trapped your wrist, actually impeding the fulfilment of what was acquiring the shape of a wish trough and through. her superior strength had proven a perfect feature to yank your entire body closer to her.

your other hand was holding the bible and you reckoned that once you had dropped it, it would have meant bending irremediably, to the point of breaking, in favour of the evil pulling that had been dancing around you throughout your entire life.

the deaf thud of the sacred text hitting the floor had rivalled with the same echoed sound of ellie's cheek getting slapped once again. the capillaries were fast breaking and the warm sensation over the beaten skin sat rather uncomfortable. not so much so as to hinder the devilish grin that ellie had no shame in sporting.

"at least now you're dropping the act of the prissy nun thinking she's better than everyone," her raspy voice had become lower, almost inaudible. but as subtle – and therefore armless – as it may have seemed, its ability to insinuate just as venom does, with blind cruelty, hadn't left space for mercy. "beating me like the other sisters when you faked compassion the moment they did it to me."

the whole context hadn't given you the chance to develop not even a semblance of pity towards ellie. no, it couldn't have found it in the midst of the scorching flames hell that was engulfing your guts. "you deserve every punishment they gave you. my only mistake was thinking you could gain god's forgiveness," you had inched closer to ellie, mimicking, without having full control over it, her tone and setting a twisted game with the loser's destruction as the prize.

"i'm yet to see how you discipline your bad kids," ellie had taken your free hand, the one responsible for the red heat spreading on half of her face, had brought it closer to her chipped lips, "since you're a sick pervert, i imagine you make them do sick shit as well. what is it? spanking? making them kneel down to eat your pussy?" the last bit of her degrading speech had been accompanied by the wet noise of her saliva coating your thumb and your thumb pressing as though it had had life of its own down ellie's tongue.

"want me to show it to you?" it must have been the devil himself that had smelt how deliciously sinfully your soul was accepting to delve into a grave without possibility to repent. everything had been lost.

"fuck– fucking slut knows hot to– oh man—," that was the agonised prize that your fingers entering ellie and pumping with no care in the world inside her pussy had won for you. there was a spot under ellie, a combination of her own cum and the saliva you had spat on your hand because depravity was the puppeteer moving and angling your strings, and you, brainless and unable to feel shame, followed along, being the only purpose of your tainted existence.

you were becoming obsessed with that sight, your pussy had long started to grind on ellie's stomach, lifting more and more of her black shirt, revealing the toned muscles that helped the friction you were ready to sell your soul to encounter.

fitting a third finger inside ellie, you moaned as though you were the one being penetrated. your teeth were munching your lower lip as a manner to deal with the inexplicable pleasure you were both giving and experiencing. like the previous things, you definitely hadn't planned not only to do this, but to enjoy it as much as an animal in heat would have.

ellie decided she had had enough and pulled her hands out of the pathetic cage that was your numb digits, reckoning they would be of more use gripping the soft flesh of your hips and helping you cover her navel with more your intoxicating precum.

"why can't you always be this obedient? why can't you be a good girl?" your now free hand found a new grip in your own hair, all while indulging in ellie's silent desire to hump harder above her. which meant automatically increasing the speed with which your fingers were claiming her fucked out hole.

ellie sobbed at your words, reading them as indirect praise, the affirmation that like a madwoman she had been searching her all life, the affirmation that frustrated her so much it made her into the shadow of herself.

"oh god please– please, forgive me... oh god, ellie– don't stop..." came out corrupted beyond salvation, tainted by your tears of pleasure and the chocked scream of the most mind numbing orgasm you have ever had, fearing your brain would never recover its sanity.

if you had been captured by the image of ellie, fucked out on the bed where you sleep, ellie too had endured a sight of her own that pushed its limit with you coming on her. it happened during the first second of your high, for this reason you understood that ellie had flipped both of you over, so that now she was between your legs, only when your clothed core met ellie's naked one.

she was humping you like you had been humping her, only with more domineering force due to the position you were in. ellie had her own release in mind and nothing else. there was only the heat stuck in her belly finally exploding with spikes making different parts of her body convulse in quick succession.

the ache of your pussy was no match to the fuelling sensation of having ellie take you like this, using you for her own pleasure after you doing the same to her, putting you in a subordinate position to have full control of what to do to you. "e-ellie come, please come," you begged and pathetically tried to confirm what you wanted by holding ellie's ass to deepen her movements.

she, on the other hand, couldn't resist any longer and with a last thrust she halted flush against you, mere centimetres away from your lips, your legs spread impossibly wide with the only intention of providing ellie with the best position to let go of her built up arousal.

her face had somewhat softened, not taking into account the frown on her forehead, her eyebrows knitted in a desperate expression, almost confused by the force with which her orgasm had deprived her of the characteristic vulgarity and witty behaviour.

she looked... vulnerable. and her lips looked so ready to be kissed and maybe even bitten or sucked. but the delirious feeling of the orgasm had wore off completely by then and anger for a further loss in dignity was covering the entirety of your thoughts. you weren't going to show any more of what you had already done.

you pushed her away, shivering in cold once her body left yours and as quickly as your trembling legs permitted you, you sat on the edge of your bed. facing away from ellie who was waiting for your next move.

"get the fuck out of my room," and with that, a deafening noise produced by the slamming of your wooden door was all was left for you to hear.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie x you #the last of us smut #dark ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-seven: car sex

>>> no one will read these anyway based off of the reception for nobara, but i wanted to give the ladies some love this time around &lt;3

>>> starring: maki zen'in x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: jealousy, homophobia w the zen'ins, making my own cannon, oral and fingering, car sex, semi-exhibitionism? i don't think so but just in case >>> wc: 1.8k >>> event masterlist:

formal events were the bane of her existence. she hated all the ritualistic steps of looking presentable for a clan celebration, of all things. maki has never been celebrated amongst her clan and she knows they won’t start anytime soon—so why did she have to show up and celebrate them? even worse, why did she have to drag her girlfriend to such an event? she knows half the elders will spend their time whispering about either her supposed powerlessness or her lesbianism, and the other half would be thinking about it all night long. she hated having to subject you to such nonsense, but her mother insisted–and she knew she’d never hear the end of it from her if she didn’t just suck it up and go. 

so here the two of you are, shoved into the zen’in family banquet hall in a tight fit. maki was absolutely uncomfortable, forced to mingle with people she can’t stand while trying to keep a possessive hold on you. despite the controversial relationship, she wouldn’t let it be lost on anyone. you weren’t here as a plus one or just a friend, you were here as maki’s partner and she wasn’t shy about it. they hate her already, she couldn’t give less of a fuck. her anger will make her the perfect protector too, she won’t allow them to say anything offbeat to you or their reckoning may come early. 

she also hated formal wear. it was impractical and stuffy, and she didn’t like being painted up to the nines, either. at least you looked amazing. you might be enough to make her rethink all her earlier opinions. seeing you tucked into a gorgeous kimono was definitely a lifeline to get her through the night—naobito’s birthday celebrations could perhaps pass harmlessly by with nothing more than the memories of how good you look. the silk highlights your body for days, tight around your chest and flowing down your legs. whereas maki feels completely out of place with rouge and lipstick on he skin, somehow it makes you look even more elegant and graceful. you’re flawless, evidence that maki is indeed good enough to deserve happiness. she keeps your hand in hers for the better part of the evening, fake smiling to some clan members while she keeps her scowl for others, you couldn’t quite find a rhyme or reason to her reactions. it isn’t until she’s pulled away by her sister that you’re able to understand. 

of course you were familiar with the atrocities of the zen’in, and it made you more than just a little uncomfortable to be surrounded by them, but with maki by your side, you knew that no harm would possibly come to you. but with her gone, well. now you’re left wide open. 

they don’t waste any time, a wall of zen’in has formed around you with various men bidding for your attention by offering you drinks and compliments, swearing that a zen’in man could give you a much better time than any woman—but especially one as weak and powerless as maki. their sentiment makes you snarl, but you don’t know how far maki is—meaning you don’t know how crude you can be with all these disgustingly vile creatures. 

“weak? naobito’s birthday or no—we can test that theory.” her sharp voice cuts through the cacophony of others. the men are quieted instantly, and you feel yourself smirk. they start rattling off excuses as to why there should be no fighting here tonight—but you hear the real reason: they’re afraid. 

maki has always been far more powerful than they deign to acknowledge. she’s a talented fighter, and you knew most of these old fuckers would be dead to rights if she really wanted to cause a scene. her presence is scary enough, brows set with a menacing look in her eye. she stares above their heads, making eye contact with you. 

“come. i think it’s time we left, dear.” she extends her hand for you to take, holding the stare of the disgusting old men that came to hit on her girlfriend the moment she stepped away. you skip forward to take her hand, almost giddy at her demeanor as she squeezes your palm in hers. you knew that she was pissed. she was mad when she woke up this morning and remembered this stupid fucking party was today, but now she’s irate. everything she thought would happen, did, and she didn’t feel like subjecting you to any more ogling eyes. she starts to drag you both towards the door, hoping that the hour and a half she had managed to occupy the same space as her family would please her mother enough. not that she quite cared anyway, hearing your little giggles of excitement told her that you knew exactly how she would remedy her bad mood. 

maki has a track record of jealousy, and you knew this time was no exception. this time may be the worst of them all, your girlfriend’s grip on your hand tightening as the driver brings the car around. her mind was racing with the harassments from the crowd, different cousins and uncles offering to show her girlfriend a good time after the party. tch, she didn’t have to wait. she would have you now, the windows of the car are tinted anyway. she opens the backseat of the spacious suv, jutting her chin out to the backseat. 

your feel your face heat up as you obey her, crawling into the back on your hands and knees. maki turns to give the chauffeur a tip, patting his knowing shoulder. she doesn’t much care if people know what she’s about to do to you in this car. in fact, she hopes rumors spread about it. the windows being tinted was all she cared about—no one would get to see her pretty little girlfriend’s faces of pleasure but her. she steps into the car after you and pulls the door closed behind her. she’s thankful for the air conditioning and radio humming lowly in the background, your noses pressed together for a brief moment as she adjusts your seat, pushing you back and ensuring she has enough space in the floorboard. 

you giggle a little, parting your thighs to give her room to sit between. she slinks between them easily, resting her hands on your knees as she peers over her lenses. you lick your lips in anticipation, seeing that anger in her eyes. 

“worked up, babe?” you tease just a little, resting your hand on her head. she raises a brow at you, quietly warning you to watch your attitude. you grin a little, knowing you could push her to her limits after the night that you’ve had—but you’d be the one to reap the consequences. so you lean back against the seat a bit, easing your cunt closer. she looks down at your middle at the movement, but she nods. 

“yeah. i’m a bit worked up.” she groans, bunching your silken skirt up by your thighs. her mouth salivates the closer she leans to the apex of your thighs. she catches your scent, grinning at the arousal already leaking down your legs. “they’re all just dying for a chance at you, hm?” 

you roll your eyes with a satisfied little grin, shaking your head at her. you pull your skirt up some more for her, but you know not to worry about anything further or you’ll further irritate your already ticked off and overzealous girlfriend. “just too scared of you to come around.” you decide to stroke her ego instead. 

she scoffs a little, amusement sparkling in the vast darkness of her emerald eyes. her fingers stroke over the center of your panties, and she hums approvingly at the dampness she can feel beneath. her lips tilt into a smirk, “and you like that?” 

“i love that.” you purr, scratching her scalp a little bit. she smiles softly and pushes the flimsy fabric keeping your cunt from her to the side. she gives you a breathy chuckle, watching the strings of your arousal stick to your panties as she peels them away, she’s enamored. 

“and i love that sloppy pussy, pretty girl.” she whispers, letting her fingers spread your lips apart. you take your lip in between your teeth in anticipation. she lets her slender thumb drag figure eights along your clit, face focused on your hardening tits and shifting face. you’ve always been so sensitive, it’s one of maki’s favorite things about you—how you jerk into her hand as she’s barely touched you, little moans coming from your pursed lips as the sounds of tires squealing outside overtake the music in the car. maki grins—you’re holding up the line, leaving the other zen’in’s no choice but to pull around maki’s signature suv. she chuckles a bit as she leans in, attaching her pink lips to yours, letting her fingers work their magic over your bundle. 

your body drowns in warmth, looking down at your sexy and strong girlfriend giving you head never got old. she always knew how to get you going, possessively shoving you in the back of her car was on the list. you grip at her hair as the pressure from her fingers intensifies, tongue slipping past your lips and straight into the hole—and she moans at the taste of you. your head rolls against the rest behind you, hands weaved into green locks in an effort to grind yourself down on her tongue inside you without moving her fingers. one of her hands pushes your thigh away, keeping you from breaking yet another pair of her glasses. 

she works in perfect time, knowing exactly how to send you over the edge without much work at all. she knows no man could tend to you so easily—making you cum like it was chewing gum or breathing. that’s why only she gets to wear the remnants on her face. you buck into her mouth, whines going high pitched. she taps your thigh, giving you express permission to cum on her face. 

you whimper, the affection in her eyes was enough to send you toppling over the edge. your hips shake, the dam breaking in your gut—your release covers your girlfriend’s tongue as she curls it inside, gathering all the taste of you that she could with a few animalistic moans as she sucks you clean. 

she pants a little as she pulls away from your cunt, tucking your panties back over the mess with a little smile of arrogance. “did that make you feel better, sweetheart?” she asks, pulling your skirt back down as she leans up toward your face. you bend down to meet her, she was still on her knees after all. 

you chuckle, giving her a soft kiss. “i meant to ask you that.” 

#kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kyleewritesjjk #maki x reader #maki thirst #maki zen'in #maki smut #maki zenin #maki zen'in x reader

[kalims]

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room 'cause all I see are girls too good to be true"

jealousy, jealousy,

I reckon yuu has atleast some people admiring them for their 'heroic' acts for each dorms, ironically enough

characters. riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus.

includes. gn!reader, flowers aren't limited to girls.

cw. each has a student from their dorm/another liking reader, book 5 spoilers? kinda.

note. this was supposed to be for celebrating 4k and originally I had a fic that I was supposed to publish but I got really busy w/ school and stuff so I supposed I'll just drop this 😚 I'm also sick btw *cries

if someone asked you; "what do you think the students see you as?" you'd probably answer, "a wannabe I guess." technically you were sure that you were right about your guess. if there's anything that you'd know about a school that worships villians is that they'd hate someone whose the polar opposite.

which is you, with you basically 'saving' the dorm leaders and all. atleast the person in question didn't seem to pick at you for helping them and not going like 'I don't need your help.'

which is also why you're.. shocked to say the least when some random student you can't say that looks familiar hands you a bouquet of flowers, clearly flushing at your stare. you notice a white envelope tucked into the variety of flowers as well as a box of chocolates.

funnily enough you wondered if twisted wonderland celebrated valentines day on a different month.

albeit the possibly hundred other gazes from the other people. why'd they have to do this in the cafeteria exactly? it would've saved you the trouble if they did it on a more private scale.

you can only smile at them politely. honesty feeling a mixture of embarrassment and shyness cause you've never received such a bold confession yourself. "thank you?" you feel a little bad when they deflate at your short answer to their gifts but nevertheless pleased.

"you're welcome. I tried to pick out the flowers for someone as special as you but it can't compare." they absent-mindedly state. you can't hide the grin on your face, you just met this person and they're already flattering you. it feels nice to be appreciated.

kinda cringe but you take it back this person is really cool.

— riddle rosehearts

bystander number 1. who wants to collar that person by anger, along with jealousy then proceed to stomp away. riddle would actually do that but only when you're not around cause you'd probably not be too happy if he punishes your 'friend' and he wants you to see him as the 😇 reliable young lad everyone loves.

suddenly had the will to impress you and one upped everything the other person did. so they got a 49 on the magical analysis test? that's too bad, riddle got 50. get on his level. so they answer correctly only when called? well riddle's voluntarily raising his hand and getting them all correct. oh they can cook?

oh well. he can do everything else better else than cooking so it doesn't really matter. you'd be a fool to choose someone else over him. but he supposes its part of the charm, infatuatingly enough.

— leona kingscholar

bystander number 2 who either just doesn't care or is secretly really mad. knowing leona it's probably the latter because it's leona and if there's something he hates it's probably getting upped by some random person whom he's clearly better than. you must be really blind if you have the audacity to ramble about said person to him.

went really grumpy for the span of days to weeks. ruggie literally would do anything you ask if it meant that leona's gonna be to his old self, lazy sure but he didn't used to place this much work on him!

your fault or not you'd probably also get affected by his drastic change of attitude. bro literally ignored you as well as everyone else, reverting to his mean self but treating you with more bitterness. it's probably not your fault but he doesn't regret a thing because you actually look upset when he pays you no mind. so you do feel something for him 😒😏. flashbacks to kaeya

— azul ashengrotto

bystander number 3. who's borderlining between wanting to get depressed then crawl in his octo pot to cry and absolutely ruining everything this random cheap made. I mean, really? those aren't even your favorite flowers! where did they get them, at the nearest dollar store? if he were them he'd give you the most expensive flowers you'd ever lay your eyes on!

and that's what he does actually; literally showed up on your doorstep with a handsome smile and gave you the most prettiest flowers you've seen yet. consider yourself charmed! bro literally made you forget about that other person for days until you saw them like a month later which is kinda bizarre..

the twins don't let you know that azul put them up on a 'job' to keep em' away. but it does use for good blackmail material against the jealous octopus.

— kalim al asim

bystander number 4. legit doesn't get jealous. kalim literally is just happy that you have admirers like him because you deserve it! he'd be more upset if you didn't have admirers honestly. okay but lowkey though, he isn't trying to compete at all but you receive a large bouquet, definitely much grander than the one you received and a heartfelt letter tucked into it.

how was that person supposed to win you over when kalim does it better?? ok but this is like the jamil situation in book 5 LOL.

if he actually somehow gets jealous he feels bad because he knows he'll do it better ( not condescending /gen ) so he just resorts to trying to win your affection and forgets about not trying then completely overshadowed the other person's previous attempts. bro only spared a 'I feel bad' look then smiling again because yay! you like him better now :)

— vil schoenheit

bystander number 5. AKA, the one who knows he'll do better and actually does do it better ( condescending ). vil doesn't even bother doing anything cause he trusts you enough to make the.. correct, choice. you do know that he's one of the most sought off person in the world, right? you'd be a fool to not see that.

okay but maybe he is a little paranoid that you actually will choose them so he actually does put in effort..

I mean nearly everyone is scared terrified of rook right? what's one more person to the count? he totally does not purposely send out rook to stalk them so he can expose them on social media .. or make him stall them somewhere so he has the chance to whisk you away and you losing the ability to see them for this day.. oh well, it's better to just spend it with vil since you're free anyways..

— idia shroud

bystander number 6 who was there but actually not there..? physically not present but he was there, somehow.. *looks at camera in the far, FAR corner of the ceiling*. idia doesn't know whether to start crying because you actually looked happy with their CRINGE. confession.. the crying is a more intense period than azul's btw.

or.. actually there's no or, that's just what he's gonna do. close his electronic device, crawl into his bed and cry into his body pillow. fear not. little brother ortho to the rescue! ortho actually suggested destroying any evidence of a 'disappearance' if that poor soul just happened to not be present for years but idia quickly shot that idea down, he actually pondered on agreeing but no way he's gonna let them win by that!

hijacks all their phones, PC's, whatever other stuff so that it's completely off, no other person can fix it besides him. and he's definitely not gonna do that so the person ghosts you for weeks, so you get mad and ghost them irl.. wow his masterplan actually worked. no ortho pls don't force me to 'comfort' them..

— malleus draconia

bystander number 7 who genuinely doesn't see the appeal of this basic little b— human :). like? hello?? he's right here, open your eyes child of man. no need to tolerate the pathetic display they just did that doesn't live up to your very existence, they might as well compare you to gravel on the floor from how poor they executed their weird analogy.

he could legit go on and on about every single feature you have, your eyes, mouth, face, shape.. he would present you a microsoft presentation for it if you ask and it literally is godly description type of thing. you could finish listening to one of them and you'd be in TEARS ☠.

bros so sentimental. he thanks lilia for the advice of microsoft presentation because you now look completely convinced. malleus has the pride to spare the other person a smirk when your attention is fully on him :D.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #x reader #x gn reader

[fangisms]

all of the girls you loved

A/N: i am a SUCKER for a good song fic and obvi a sucker for some good Taylor content (gif creds: @merakiaes)

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Every woman that he knew brought him here. You want to teach him how forever feels. 2.6k words.

Warnings: so much crying why am i in a mood, fluff mostly!, song fic, song lyrics, pet names (poppet, dear), heartbreak, brief angst, ONE FUCKING CURSE WORD. jealousy, being stood up

1984

"your mother brought you up loyal and kind"

You'd been chasing the little red haired boy through the train station for the better part of the last ten minutes. But only because he tugged at your hair and stuck his tongue out at you. He started it. He's got this worn grey sweater, and you can tell his jeans were hand-me-downs from the patchwork in the knees. Probably from the boy, his older brother, with the wavy red hair carrying far too many books and stumbling up the train's steps.

Your antagonist giggles and ducks behind the brick pillar in the center of the station. You roll your eyes and round the otherside, tapping on his shoulder with a grin. He yelps and skitters away behind his mother. She has a small baby tucked in her arm and another cooing from a pram decorated with ribbons, lace, and wicker.

"Georgie!" She scolds him for tugging on her skirt before looking down to see your little face staring back at her. "Hello, dear, what's your name?"

The boy peeks his head out from behind her leg, round cheeks flushed a soft pink from all the running. You fold your arms over your chest and scowl at him.

"Determined little thing, aren't you?" she says with a sweet smile and kind eyes, "Have you been terrorizing this young lady?"

"It's not my fault, mum! She looks funny!"

"George. That's not how we talk about other people, now, is it?" she warns.

"No, mum."

"No, of course it's not. Now, you apologize this instant. Your brothers give me enough grief as is."

His wicked gaze meets yours, and you scowl hard as you can back at him. He squints. You purse your lips.

"I'm sorry because my mum told me so!"

You pout, "apology not accepted! I hope I never see you again!"

And with that, he watched the little girl with the wild hair and the polka-dotted pinafore skip away. Never to be seen again. Until the next year. And each year following the last.

1994

"teenage love taught you there's good in goodbye"

George has got a mouth full of the loudest bubblegum in existence when he comes roaring up behind you in the hallway, laying his arm across your shoulders.

"Evening, poppet. I assume you've heard the news," he chirps, smacking his gum in your ear proudly.

"You're disgusting, George," you say, shrugging his arm away but still matching his pace, "and I don't care that you bribed Niamh Ward into being your date to the Yule Ball."

"I didn't bribe her! She asked me and I said 'yes'"—he blows a gummy bubble in your face, and it bursts with a ringing pop—"D'you reckon she'll kiss me if I dance well enough?"

He twirls off down the hallway, ending his mini routine with a flourish of jazz hands.

"I don't reckon any girl will ever want to kiss you with moves like that."

"Oh, you're just a cynic. I'm perfectly snoggable, whether I can dance or not." He takes your wrist and drapes your arm in the crook of his own, and you scoff when he leans in to pop another bubble in your face. "Who's taking you to the ball, anyway? That Durmstrang halfwit?"

You yank your arm away and stop dead in your tracks. It's a well-known fact that you'd been waiting for George to ask you to the Yule Ball since first year. You thought for sure he'd ask you. But the time came and went and you each found other dates, other outfits, other plans. And you hate that deep down, a small part of you is still waiting for him to ask you. But you'd never do that to Niamh. Not even for George.

"As a matter of fact, yes," you say, "and his name is Johan—"

"What kind of name is Johan?"

He's still smacking his gum like he knows exactly how to get on your nerves. And after all these years, it's no wonder.

"You're so immature. I'll see you later."

"Oh, come on—"

"No, George," you huff, not turning around until you clear the corner and wipe your wet cheek with the sleeve of your robes.

...

The Great Hall has never looked more decadent. Draped in glitz and the magic of the holidays. Everyone's absolutely buzzing with excitement, ever-present gossip, and the beauty of students dressed to the nines. And in the midst of it all, you still spot him from across the room.

Of course, Johan is the perfect gentleman. He even asked if you'd like to match your gown to his traditional red dress robes. It was a lovely idea, and it wasn't hard to pick out a lovely chiffon, maroon dress. He said you looked beautiful and danced with you most of the night, but there was still that sickly ache in your chest like flesh and tendon left split by two cold hands. George's hands.

After you told Johan you didn't feel well, he left you alone at one of the shimmering tables. You felt bad practically leading him on, but it's not like you'd been lying about your attraction to him. Just about your attraction to George.

You don't turn to face the person who plops onto the stool beside you. You're pretty dedicated to flicking the thin straw around the rim of your glass at this point.

"I left my date to come talk to you, so you better have a stellar reason for looking so glum."

George. You know he's trying to cheer you up. And he knows it's not exactly working how he'd hoped. "Come on, poppet. It's the Yule Ball. You've been looking forward to this for, what, six years?"

He hates that when you turn to face him, you've got tears dripping from your chin, jaw, nose, lashes. He hates that there's a small part of him that wishes he could have fixed it for you. 

"What's wrong?" he whispers, scooting closer and catching a slow tear slipping over your cheekbone. You flinch away and lean your head in your hand, closing your eyes.

"You have no idea."

George chortles and shrugs, "well, yeah. That's sort of why I'm asking." You land a hearty wallop on his arm, not even looking when you swing your fist at him. "Alright, that was deserved. Now, tell me. I don't like it when you shut me out."

"Why are you doing this, George? Why don't you just leave me alone? Go hang out with Niamh or something," you say. It's accusatory, sure, but that's the point. The inflection was aimed for the heart. Spear tipped with arsenic just to make it sting more.

He chews the inside of his cheek, rubbing the back of his neck when you dodge his gaze and sniffle.

"That might be a tad difficult seeing how she stood me up."

Shit.

"George, I didn't mean—"

"No, no, it's okay. She caught a... a stomach bug, or something. Spent all morning hunched over the girl’s toilet," he mumbles, loosening his tie. And you catch just the smallest smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. Like there's some kind of amusement in his own misery. "I feel bad for her, honestly."

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea." You grab his hand and lean closer. He looks tired up close. Like the light usually at home in his eyes as twinkled out and left him dimmed.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Fate is fate, after all." He brushes his hair out of his face and takes a deep breath, squeezing your hand. "Dance with me?"

Yes, of course, you want to shriek. I'd love nothing more from the boy who used to yank on my hair and call me names and tell me he loved my sparkly shoes. An honor, you think, but the words don't reach. Just a smile.

"Sure," you say, letting him tug you in the direction of the crowd. The right direction, you think, the direction you've longed for. Then he spins you into his chest, and you feel the shallow rumble of his laugh in your fingertips.

"Was Johan a better dancer than me?" he says, swaying your bodies like tender obligation. You cock an eyebrow.

"Johan stepped on my toes every four steps and nearly tore my dress."

"...So?"

"Yes," you tease.

"Shut up. Let me make this dance a good one. For you."

You look up at him and he thinks he's never seen someone look so clueless and yet so completely beautiful. From the gloss on your lips to the gems on your shoes and even now, mascara smudged and hands shaky, he thinks he'd like to look at you for as long as you'll let him. And when you shuffle closer between songs, he has to catch his breath against your temple.

"Your hair's gotten so long, Georgie," you whisper, slipping your hand up and over his shoulder, to the back of his neck with a smile pressed to his warm cheek.

"Like it?"

"I’ll always like it."

He pleads to Merlin you can't feel the rattletrap pounding of his heart. His hand moves of its own volition, spread across the small of your back like he's seen in some romance films. The slow dance scene is always the most romantic. The pinnacle of their love thus far. The event to dissolve any prejudice leftover in their heads, and any pride hidden in the last cracks in their hearts.

"George, I have to tell you something important—"

"Shh, poppet, just dance with me a little longer."

And you suppose. It could wait that little while longer. Another dance. Another day. It'd come up again and break your heart, but it'd be too pressing to put off eventually.

So you let him hold your hand a little tighter, sway you in circles a little slower, and keep your heart beating a little louder.

1996

"every woman that you knew brought you here // i wanna teach you how forever feels"

The something important you had tried to tell George that night was that you'd be staying with your estranged aunt in Spain over the course of the next school year. Your final school year. You'd be leaving Hogwarts—leaving George—and spending the year homeschooling over in Spain.

You left that Spring to spend your days in the Spanish countryside, drinking in the sunshine and dancing to the music of the cicadas. It had devastated George. It had devastated all of the Weasleys. They were so used to housing you most summers, and the change was quite unwelcome. Less place settings, less baggage clunking up the stairs, less laughter. He could only hope you were happy. And that he'd be able to see you again one day in the future.

"Georgie?"

You caught him off guard. He nearly tripped and cracked a tooth on the steps when you called his name. He and his twin brother had made a spectacle of Ninety-three Diagon Alley in the time you'd been away. And you had just happened to wander in and find him hurrying up the technicolor stairs after his brother.

Nothing felt real when he met your eyes for the first time in a year and change. The sirens and bells and sparklers went fuzzy as he realized just how beautiful you'd gotten since he last saw you. Beautiful enough to make him wildly nervous. Enough to make him sweat.

"My Poppet." He says it gently, grinning when you bat your lashes and hold your arms out.

"Christ, I've missed you, George," you huff, burying your face in his shoulder when he wraps his arms around you.

"You have no idea."

You tease him with a laugh, "Well, yeah," pulling away to wrap your lithe fingers around his tie. "Look at your hair! It's so short!"

"Like it?" He runs his fingers through the scruff at the back of his head. You squint and pat the soft tufts at the top of his head.

"I love it. You know I do."

He sighs, ushering you to the back of the shop all while trying to conceal a giddy smile.

"I've had an entire year to reflect on all the reasons why you abandoned me, poppet. I made a list"—He takes your wrist and drapes your arm in the crook of his own—"Starting with that time I told you your unicorn shirt was quote, unquote, 'for babies'."

"You have to include my stunning defense, Weasley"—you clear your throat—"'I am a baby, and you're just a rotten little boy!'"

"How could I forget?" He pushes open a door to the very neglected office towards the back of the building. Papers stacked on the desk, a cobweb in the corner. Well-loved. "A little privacy, mademoiselle?"

"I'd be delighted."

He sweeps the dust off a brown leather chair by the desk, offering the seat to you with a shy smile.

"Oh, George," you whisper, fiddling with the clasp of your purse with watery eyes and a pout like the one you gave him the first time he saw you.

"Come here, sweetheart," he says, hurrying you into his embrace with the feeling of being gutted by your sad eyes weighing heavy on him.

"There's just so much"—you gasp and cover your mouth when you sob—"So much I've missed and so much I want to tell you and so much I wish I had seen and done with you..."

"I know. I know, I feel the same," he huffs, "I missed you more than words can describe. I didn't know what to do with myself."

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I thought—"

"No. No, poppet, of course not"—he holds you tighter, pressing you to the curves of his body, holding you like clay and hot glass—"You came back, that's all I could ever ask for."

You pull back and let him wipe the tears from your cheeks, leaving faint kisses on each temple. And when he finally tears himself away from your skin, he's only left desperate for the contact. His thumb brushes you cheek, and you hold his wrist, lashes fluttering to meet his soft gaze. Desperation. Exhaustion. Relief. It's all there in the palm of your hand, and just at his fingertips.

Twelve years is far too long to be loving anyone the way you love each other. Completely but without the parts of love we sometimes need most. The honesty and openness, the comfort, and more than ever, the kisses. He curses his wild eyes for sweeping the length of your parted lips. His wild eyes giving away his secrets and calling him a damned fool.

You catch his mouth with yours, innocent at first peck, but he kisses you back, unsure of where his hands should go, wanting perfection, especially when your nose bumps his and makes you smile into the wetness of the kisses.

"I want everything," you whisper, forced to choose between air and George, "I have loved you since the day we met."

"That's very cheesy, my dear." He rests his forehead against yours, cupping the side of your neck, thumb resting gingerly over the column of your throat. Just to hold something delicate. Fragile. His.

"Think you can do better?"

"Hmm," he clears his throat, "You stole my heart and... I don't think I want it back."

"Gross! You win."

"I meant it."

He winks and pecks your bottom lip sweetly, only to realize you're tearing up, head tilted back and hands fanning at your eyes. He holds your waist and you shake your head with a defeated laugh.

"I'm such a crybaby."

"My favorite."

"You're awful, Georgie."

"I know," he says, finally, "I know."

masterlist

#fanfic #fluff #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #friends to lovers #george weasley fanfic #george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x reader #hp universe x reader #x fem!reader #Spotify

[elexaria]

What if the reader actually acts nice to simon?

Like when she gets flowers or a gift to johnny she gets simon one too. When she cooks she makes him food too. Or like buys them expensive things.

OR gets jealous of him with johnny. Like when a girl flirts with simon the reader glares at the girl with johnny and genuanly(idk how to spell it😭) loves and cares for him bo matter how much he pushes her around?

this is exactly how i imagine it!

you have absolutely no idea why you care about a man like simon riley. despite him pushing you away, you can’t help but dote on the miserable bastard.

you know almost everything there is to know about him. you know he doesn’t like cheese, so you’ll always ask the pizza restaurant to only put a SMALL amount of cheese on his pizza. you’ve noticed that because of his autism, he has a couple of tics that tend to get triggered when he’s feeling uncomfortable. you know him like the back of your hand, and it’s something he’s yet to realise.

johnny comes home early one day, absolutely raging. you pour him a glass of whiskey, taking a seat next to him on the sofa as he begins to rant and rave about some blonde bimbo that was practically glued to simon’s hip at some event that the task force were at. “och, an’ bloody si just stood there like some pollock. can ye believe it?!” johnny scoffs, crossing his arms with a huff. you bite the inside of your lip, feeling a strange pang of emotion upon hearing that.

“well… what did he look like? when she was flirting with him, i mean—“ you ask, reaching over to take a swig of whiskey, eyes scrunching up at the taste. johnny leans back against the sofa and looks up at the ceiling when he thinks back on the interaction, huffing like a child again. “he was all blinky n’ shite. reckon he was trynae wink or summet.” he mumbles, thick black eyebrows furrowed as he glances over at you.

with a sigh of relief, you can’t help and chuckle. “you’ve never noticed that simon tics when he’s nervous? he wasn’t trying to wink, johnny. he was twitching.”

johnny’s eyebrows arch thoughtfully, a pink flush on his stubbled cheeks. “oh.” is all he can say, surprised that he’s never noticed this in all the years he’s known simon. and when you start to giggle at johnny’s jealousy, he boyishly grins and rolls his eyes. “och, whatever! come here.” he teases, hands finding their way to the small of your waist as he pulls you into his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you giggle and playfully protest <3

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap x reader #poly!ghoap #soap x reader

[yrluvjane]

L.O.V.E — Regulus Black

Regulus realizes just how much of a light you've become in his life.

It was a curious sight indeed, to see Regulus Black, the son of a pureblood line as ancient as they came and one of the greatest wizards of his age, standing in the middle of the Hogwarts kitchen. He had always hated the color red, associated with Gryffindors and Muggle holidays and he had never been particularly fond of Muggle celebrations. Yet here he was, seemingly out of place and uncomfortable.

Regulus's expression was rigid and unsmiling, and his gaze was fixed on the floor as he stood apart from the bustling House-elves that worked the kitchens. Regulus had learned early on that showing emotion was a weakness, and he had always strived to keep his face blank, devoid of any expression, believing that if he could learn to control his emotions, he might someday be able to block them out altogether.

It was a strange contrast to the lively kitchen around him, with its colorful decor and joyful noise, and Regulus felt like a stranger in a strange land. Nonetheless, he was determined to see this through, despite his discomfort. He knew that he must learn to understand his emotions, and if he could master that, perhaps he would be able to find some balance in his life, amidst the darkness that he had been surrounded by since birth.

L is for the way you look at me

And as he crawled out of the Black Lake, wet and muddy, Regulus felt the familiar warmth of anger flare in his chest. The humiliation of having slipped on the stones and landed in the water was overwhelming, but what irritated him the most was hearing the sound of your laughter as he struggled to remove his soaking wet robes.

"Amused?" he snapped, his voice filled with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"Very," you purred, the corners of your mouth turning up in an infuriating smile as you watched him try to get his shoes off.

Regulus felt his face turn red with fury, and he glared back at you with a mixture of indignation and frustration. The feeling of being so utterly humiliated was too much to bear, and he felt the urge to lash out in retaliation. But he knew that showing such emotions would be a sign of weakness, and he tried to rein in his anger, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

"Do you find it amusing to mock someone who has fallen?" he asked, his voice cold and hard.

"Only when that someone is you."

O is for the only one I see

Regulus watched you excitedly from his spot on the pitch, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The sound of your commentary was like music to his ears, and he found the way you were able to keep up a constant stream of entertaining remarks while also providing helpful analysis of the game to be truly impressive.

"Oh come on!" You yelled through the mega phone, "Ravens! Ravens! Ravens!" You chanted. He lazily rolled his eyes at you.

As he began to wander around the pitch, his eyes scanning for the Snitch, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for you. You were a force to be reckoned with, and he was starting to realize just how much he enjoyed spending time with you, even if it was often - or mostly - spent arguing.

He grinned at the sight of Professor McGonagall trying to fight you for the mic for you had began making inappropriate comments about his team, especially him. "Come on you pussy-bats!"

V is very, very extraordinary

Regulus watched in amazement as you comfortably settled into the room, surrounded by his companions. The ease with which you spoke with them, making jokes and teasing, was almost uncanny, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

As Evan threw the chocolate frog towards you, Regulus's reflexes kicked in, and he quickly caught it midair, saving you from any potential embarrassment. He couldn't help but admire the way you didn't even miss a beat, continuing to flip through your book like nothing had happened. And when you stuck your tongue out at Evan, he felt his heart beat a little faster.

As you continued to banter with the others, Regulus couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for you. He'd never met someone quite like you, so comfortable in their own skin, seemingly immune to the cruelty and judgment of the world.

But when Barty made the comment about you being a mudblood, Regulus's face contorted into a scowl. He knew that word all too well, having been calling it to others himself multiple times throughout his life. He couldn't believe that Barty would use such a uncivil term so carelessly, and it made him appreciate you all the more for your calm and casual response.

"Oh, Is the little mudblood sad?" Piped Barty from his bed, "I don't take cheek from anyone not even rich inbreeds." You drawled as you flipped the page of your book. Evan snickered and Barty's mouth dropped in shock.

Regulus smiled.

E is even more than anyone that you adore can

Regulus couldn't believe the sight before him. The castle was covered in hearts, roses, and all manner of red and pink decorations. He snorted under his breath as he watched you busy yourself with jams and dough's in the kitchen, not even trying to contain his distaste for the entire scene.

"It's in the holiday spirit, Reg." You sang, pushing the flour-covered strands of your hair back with your arm and flashing him a bright smile. Regulus leaned over the table and gently pushed your hair behind your ears, his fingers caressing the skin of your nape. He felt a strange warmth spread through his body as you looked back at him. "It's about love."

"Love?" The word felt foreign in his mouth, and Regulus furrowed his brows, showing his clear disdain for the concept. "What does any of this have to do with love?" he muttered under his breath.

"C'mere" You said motioning over. "No!" Exclaimed Regulus taking a step back. "I'm not going to bite you! Regulus, come here!" You whined, rubbing your arms on your forehead, trying to push your, once again, fallen strands back.

"I'm not going anywhere near that thing!" He said pointing towards the talking doll your muggle-related friends bought you. "This?! Seriously?!" You asked huffing, grabbing the teddy bear. "I love you forever and ever!" It sang.

"It's horrifying and unnatural!" He defended taking a step back as you took a step forward. "It's a red teddy bear, Regulus." You sighed and before he could react you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward you.

"Here! You can decorate the cookies any way you like." You said as you handed him a bag of red icing. He sneered at the color before grabbing his wand and charming it green. "Regulus!" You chastised, hitting him with a dirty cloth. Regulus gasped, grabbing the one on the floor and throwing it at you.

Regulus's face twisted into a mix of embarrassment and annoyance as you pulled him closer, pinning him against the table. His cheeks flushed a deep red as he tried to pull himself from your grip, almost tripping over the discarded cloth in his haste.

"What was that for?" he demanded, his fists balled at his sides.

"I wanted to show you that the holiday spirit isn't just about hearts and roses, it's also about love," you replied, your tone sweet and gentle. "But I guess that's something you don't understand."

Regulus's eyes narrowed at your words, a flicker of anger flashing through them. "Of course I understand," he spat back, his voice tight. "But love has no place in my life. It's a weakness that will only hold me back."

He glared at you for a moment longer before turning away, grabbing the bag of green icing and muttering under his breath. "I'll decorate the cookies," he muttered, his tone cold. "but it won't be because of some foolish holiday spirit."

Love is all that I can give to you

He's done it.

He's gotten the mark.

Regulus couldn't believe it. It had been three months since the beginning of term, and despite his best efforts, he had somehow managed to avoid you at every turn. Not even a glimpse of your hair, or your cheerful laugh, or your mischievous grin, nothing.

He tried to tell himself that it was for the best, that he was better off without you. But the truth was, the absence of your presence in his life left a gaping hole. A hole that couldn't be filled with anything but the sound of your voice, the light of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes.

Regulus sighed as he stared out the window, his thoughts running wild. How had it come to this? How had he allowed himself to be so consumed by the need for your presence in his life? It didn't matter now, not when your absence was leaving him empty and hollow and lost. He needed to find a way to see you, talk to you, make you understand how important you were to him.

The question was, how?

Love is more than just a game for two

Regulus's eyes snapped open with a start, the nightmare still fresh in his mind. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his chest heaving as he tried to calm his breathing. It had been a long time since he'd had such a vivid and unsettling dream, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it meant something more. What was even worse for the first time in a very long time, you weren't there.

He rolled over, the movement making his joints ache as he pushed himself into a sitting position, he looked to his side, praying to see you or even a ghost of you next to him but it was empty and Regulus's heart sank. He knew he should try to get back to sleep, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the dream had been a warning.

Regulus felt a sense of foreboding as he remembered the nightmare. It was a clear warning that he was on the wrong path, that his obsession with power and pride was leading him down a path of destruction.

He knew what he had to do. It would be a difficult task, and he could face a lot of pushback, but he was determined to make a change.

He would join the Order of the Phoenix and fight against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. This was the only way he could make a real difference in the world and ensure that you would be safe. It was time to take a stand and fight for what was right.

Regulus lay back down on his mat, taking slow, deep breaths as he tried to clear his mind of all the worries and fears that had been plaguing him. He would make his brother proud, and he would make you proud.

Two in love can make it

The realization hit Regulus like a ton of metal bricks, the force of it shocking him beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't believe it, how could he possibly have missed it for so long? The feeling: so overwhelming, so powerful, so obvious that it made him want to laugh and cry and scream and drown all at once.

But in that moment, the weight of the realization was like a crushing force, a responsibility that he felt like he would never be able to live up to. How could he ever possibly hope to love you as deeply, as truly, as completely as you deserved? It was a feeling that filled him with a sense of both joy and terror, the fear that he would never be able to live up to the love that he felt for you.

But still, in that moment, he knew that he had to try. He had to put his heart, soul, and everything he had into loving you, into being with you, because the love he felt for you was the only thing in the world that mattered, the only thing that made any kind of sense to him.

Take my heart and please don't break it

Regulus felt a wave of dread wash over him as he began to confess his love to you. His heart was thumping in his chest, his breath coming in short bursts. He didn't know if he had the words, if he could say what he needed to say. But he knew he had to try.

"I love you," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

The words hung in the air between you, the weight of them almost overwhelming.

There was nothing like the feeling of having your feelings reciprocated. You felt a warmth spreading throughout your body as Regulus's words hit your ears, his admission of his feelings filling your heart with a sense of happiness and joy that you hadn't known before.

Your smile was as bright as the sun as you looked at Regulus, taking in every detail of his face as he sat across from you, his eyes fixed on yours. For a moment, time seemed to stop, and all you could feel was the electricity between the two of you, the tension in the air.

"I love you too," you said softly, the words feeling like the most natural thing in the world. And in that moment, Regulus knew that he would do anything for you, that he would follow you to the ends of the universe and back. Because where you were was where he belonged, and he couldn't imagine a life without you.

And then, with a soft gasp, Regulus reached across the table and took your hand, his touch gentle yet firm, his gaze never faltering from yours. And you felt your heart swell with love. "I love you," Regulus whispered again, and the words seemed to echo in the room; a smile adorning his lips.

And all you could do was nod, the word "I love you" catching in your throat, the feeling so perfect that you couldn't describe it in words. All you could do was stare at him, your heart swelling with love, your mind filled with the thought that he was your everything, now and forever.

Love was made for me and you

#marauders era #regulus black angst #regulus black x reader #regulus arcturus black #regulus black #regulus black fluff #regulus black blurb #regulus black imagine #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus fanfiction #regulus x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader

[ladythornofrivia]

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Five)—Revised

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: aemond spying on the reader as she meets the council. council meeting gone wrong.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

Chapter Five: The Council

~Aemond's POV~

Hidden in the secret pathways, he was sure he was slowly losing his breath. Not because the profoundness of the Blacks and Greens have attended, or the conversation he has heard in countless times. Or the fact when Aegon volunteered himself to watch the council within to pass of as entertainment. Alicent insisted on her sons to stay put. As always, they behave. Especially the new encounter in King’s Landing.

As much as Aemond hated to admit, he couldn't abide anymore to what's in store for the council, especially to a certain name he expected to hear.

“I still don’t know what you find so special about this girl,” Aegon commented, peeping through the secret view from the secret tunnel.

Swallowing, Aemond paid him no mind as the meeting was about to commence.

“I thought you prefer to a company of older women,” Aegon added.

On his thirteenth nameday, Aegon has taken the young Aemond to Streets of Silk. His innocence is ruined by the time he returned back to the Red Keep.

“Quiet,” Aemond said, not facing his older and drunken brother, now that Aegon carried wine in a pouch. “We don’t want mother to scold us again, do we?”

“Daemon is here,” Aegon whispered in his ear with dismay.

With certain guests like Daemon came for one thing. To question.

“But our father isn’t present,” Aemond said. "Even if he is, I doubt he’ll live to see the forging tale before us.”

“Who cares about him? He’s in his bed, slowly dying away even when he’s already a rotten corpse.”

Aemond ignored him.

“This might be a chance for us to survive from the fate of our house,” Aemond whispered, but Aegon is unsure and oblivious to what Aemond meant.

The moment the doors droned a creaking sound, the council ceased their talk and focused on the main objective they have been longing to grasp.

You, appearing as miserable and beaten, limped legs dragged.

It was quite clear either Otto—or Daemon—ordered the guards to escort you.

Aemond held his breath. He has seen countless women in the Street of Silk, but has never seen like a strange aura exuding, something he can’t quite put. He has seen many women in tourneys and gatherings and ceremonies, he has seen them in training yards for a good long look of his training, and gardens and lavish gatherings and lessons with the septa—all are stiffened with false courtesies and sweet smiles. But the air of your presence filled him with conundrum, raw and ethereally indescribable he couldn’t pinpoint to how he reckoned you, regardless of exchanging words once.

His eye laid watching the soft sways on your locks and cinch of your waist clung tight nightwear. The suppleness on your skin somewhat bruised. Other than that, you’re in your broken state; bandaged and eyes averting to look below.

Watching you tossed your hair over after the guards pinned you down, the twinge in his chest lightened. As soon as he learns your name, he’ll endow you. But quickly faded when he spotted to how their mistreatment.

"What in Gods’ name happened to her?" Aemond muttered.

Aegon discerned Aemond’s eager impatience.

“Patience, Aemond,” Aegon said, eyes twinkled at your quiet presence. “You wouldn’t want your special lady to be feared by you if you show yourself again.”

Aemond leaned in back to mutter Aegon’s ear. “Perhaps it’s you who’s impatient.”

Only Aemond could watch afar, despite the distance is at its proximity between the secret walls. Soon, he abided, await for your lowering gaze to come alight and basked in glow.

~Your POV~

The guards released you after a sudden drag they put you from your deep sleep. Men in the council weren’t the only thing to watch out for; at the corner of your eyes, the guards were there, Daemon is also present in the council.

“At last,” Otto stated in quiet merry. “I was afraid you might not show.”

Still drowning under the influence of Milk of the Poppy, you said nothing but you head bobbed in sleepiness; shaking on the inside; your hands clamped in cold sweat, rubbing your palms altogether, gawking your lulled eye down on the ground.

You said nothing; eyes narrowed in drowsy exhaustion.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding to your first arrival at the Red Keep,” Otto informed, wearing the sincerity of his smile. Daemon, on the other hand, observed you by the pillar; his posture was exteriorly calming in a calculating way. You’d think meeting with the cast is a good for setting up pranks, but turns out the meeting is set for an intimidation. In other words, King Viserys is nowhere to be seen.

“You’re well aware to why you’re summoned in the council,” Otto asked.

Without looking, you felt the eyes of the council members and the guards sent their pierced gazes at you before you responded, “I know.”

“The King wishes to acquire of your existence,” Otto resumed. "But he's ill, as of late. Would you kindly introduce yourself to the court of the small council?” he demanded.

The sky outside the Red Keep thundered.

Over your veiled face and bandage from your tousled hair, Steady, you eyed on each member, not knowing on who to look; you didn’t want to make a miscalculation that could lead your early demise.

Beside you, Alicent’s hues sparked with encourage; a tiny curved quirked upward upon her lips.

Behind the council walls, there was none other than green shadows of her sons. Although while Aegon peered with amusement as Aemond with intrigued notion. Darting your eyes at Aemond, the sensation in your body faltered with alerting thrill and admiration. Without realizing, corner of your melancholic lips twitched, one dimple dented, but reformed back to a scowl, bandaged hands, your back slouched as your hands folded and rubbed altogether.

Drowsy, your head threw back in lazy gesture, released a heavy sigh, your vision blurred.

Otto inclined back in his seat with his hands folded, attentive. “Might I acquire ask to where are you from?”

Your heart thumped.

“Based on your accent, you neither sound like one of us as Westerosi. Are you from Essos?”

Subtly, you shaken your head.

“Great Moraq? Leng? Quarth? Yiti?”

You licked your parched lips, eye frantic below your lap. “Where the fuck is my cigarette,” you hissed.

Startled, the council is confused with your question.

"I beg your pardon?" Otto spoke, stunned.

“I'm not going to give the answer you wanted unless I have my belongings,” you answered, your quiet voice deepened with loudness, lounging back against the chair frame as your arms resting on the armrest, you head tilted back against the frame. This time, your eyes pierced directly, knowing this information you’ll provide won’t take overnight.

Otto unyielding eyes shot back. “Whatever it is, you can retrieve your possessions back after you answer, my lady.”

You scoffed.

Meanwhile Alicent whispered—inquired Criston where your belongings are.

After a couple minutes passing, the knight returned with none other than your clutched purse.

Sweeping your hair back, huffing as you gave the council members the glare.

The council exchanged concerns.

Otto conceded. “I’d like to say my gratitude on saving my granddaughter. However, I would like to know how you got here into Westeros. More so in King’s Landing.”

You paused and adjusted yourself in the seat again, putting your folded hands on your lap. “Look, I don’t know how the fuck I got here. I went to a party, got drunk and then slept on my bed in my apartment. The next thing I knew that I was cold and wet, and someone pulled me over back to the shore from drowning at Blackwater Bay; I was unconscious for two days until the third day and then I was being chased by three men in armor.”

“Do you remember what house they’re from?”

You leaned your back and pondered. From what it appears, it’s all too hazy until it struck. “No. But this one knight saved me from them—Ser Remon Blackwood.”

“Must’ve been the Brackens chasing after her,” Daemon concluded. “Damn Brackens and Blackwoods never cease to shed grudge and the indulgence of their pettiness.” Daemon darted his unpredictable glare at you. “What I want to know is how in the Seven Hells did you survive? Or was it Ser Criston who murdered them in Kingswood?”

Some council members collectively gasp in silence, rather in a quiet outrage, anticipating.

Gritting your teeth, you explained, “For the record, I only saw Ser Criston when I woke up, when he took me to King’s Landing. Before Ser Criston found me, those three men were hunting me, saying that I should be bred with their children, called me a whore—one said he wanted to eat my flesh after done raping me and then other said whoever makes me scream the loudest wins and give birth,” you answered. “In return, I stabbed them in the knees, cut their cock off, then disfigured one man’s face with the knife. Is that good enough for you or should I spell it out for you?”

Each and every one of their faces blanched.

“Why aim for the knees?”

Your long locks shielded your good eye. “They exposed their weak spot.” The corners of your lips twitched.

“Is it true you found her in the forest, Ser Criston?” Otto asked.

Criston’s shoulders shrugged. “It’s true. She was lying on the ground when we reached to the exit, all smothered in bloodshed.”

The silence collectively ensued, replacing with coherent whispers.

“Knights often had armor on their knees, even their cocks.”

“I’m certain she’s a wildling.”

“For Gods’s sake, Wildlings would never set their foot here, not even King’s Landing!” Daemon is annoyed by the other council’s statement.

“You’ve never been into the Wall,” one council member said.

Daemon folded his arms. “No, but I heard stories of their customs—filthy animals they are as they come.”

“You mentioned Ser Remon Blackwood,” Otto said, facing you. “He managed to pull you back out on the shores from Blackwater Bay.”

Your voice lowered. “He did.”

“From what I’ve gathered, when Alicent and Rhaenyra saw you in the Maester’s room, your peculiar clothes and your hair are covered in dark sand, you were at Dragonstone while unconscious at the time?”

Everyone was looking at you intently.

“I was.”

“On that night, there was an occurrence that awoken the dragons—the whole Westeros. Nobles and common folk often talk for the past few weeks, regarding to the incident. The green star befell from the skies and plunged into waters of the Blackwater Bay—in Westeros. Have you heard of it?”

Confused, you didn’t answer.

“Daemon was there, that’s when he last met Ser Remon Blackwood—Ser Criston saw to it.” Otto then exchanged glances with Alicent. “We were…I hate to be the bearer of news or gaining the notions of accusing. But…we believed that you’re the green star that fell from the sky.”

At the very least, nothing surprises you anymore. You were drunk at someone’s birthday party, then off to sleep in your apartment, but off to sleep and find yourself awake in the middle of the forest, in Westeros, is utterly mind blowing, but soon accepted the fate that’s been thrust onto you until the reminder.

You scoffed, your hand gestured in. “Wait just a damn fucking minute,” you interfered. “Whatever you’re thinking, you—”

“So you’re the one who causes my Caraxes to nearly bitten my hand off in half. My dragon couldn’t sleep well for the last few days,” Daemon fumed as he went closer to you. Daemon clutched the side of your neck, fingertips pressured. But you were unfazed.

“Fuck off,” your voice raised, eyes hardened, shoving Daemon away, but he wouldn’t budge, his clutch tightened on you.

“Daemon, spare her—she did no such treason; she protected and defended your life with hers on the bridge and the life of children,” Otto said, but you detected his sarcasm. Otto never cared for the Blacks.

Behind you, you felt a heavy presence towering over you. But no one was there, as if someone’s watching over you.

Daemon studied your features. “I find it hard to believe that a young lady like you who could fend off your opponents with a blindfold. Tell me, how did you manage to strike under such vulnerable condition,” His fingertips caressed you on your cheekbone, leading down on the side of your throat, thumbing across the smooth flesh.

Your hand clutched his, nails deepened.

“None of your goddamn business,” you answered, cold expression in your good eye unwaver, shoving his touch back in lenient motion; your body leaned back. “A little “thank you” for saving your royal, arrogant ass would’ve been nice.”

Daemon clicked his tongue and stepped back, giving you the broken knife you once held underneath the folded handkerchief. “You attacked the men in armor with this. You stole this Ser Remon Blackwood, didn’t you? The sigil marked on his dagger,” he seethed.

Quietude engulfed the air.

“Think what you like, princeling. But Ser Remon Blackwood gave that to me for protection. I promised him that I’ll give the knife back the next time I see him…”

Daemon shaken his head. “His body has been found, buried. His family were in mourning. Seeing them would consider to be the worst idea.”

Hearing Remon Blackwood’s death, you carried no hope or peace of mind. Instead, you sulked, but insisted on not showing the upsetting factor invaded in you. When you veered Daemon’s eyes, he could offer nothing but sympathy, but molded to indifference. Somehow, it left you clouded in anger.

“This is certainly a waste for our time,” one maester said. “We’ll never get information out of her!”

“Filthy as her mouth, spiteful as a venomous beast.”

“Surely she’s a born Wilding.”

While the council spoke over, nose scrunching, you assumed, almost sinisterly ill from the flips and coils in your belly, watching the young knight carrying on what it seems to appear—your clutched purse.

Your eye fixed on the object, glaring at the young knight, who was taking his sweet time to chat another guard—a report, you assumed.

At your attentive gaze, Alicent ordered the young knight in order for you to retrieve your belongings—all which are intact due to the quality of your clutched bag.

The young knight handled your possession, but as he called you, you stare into space, contemplating. The world you admire was starting to piss you off. You understood that you’re the outsider. With your unhealed wounds, what can you do? In a world of Westeros, men and women died often.

You stared into space so much that you didn’t sense others watching you. All you wanted was a peaceful sleep, but the guards are strong, with your weakened health, you fought them off, but they got the upper hand.

But each time their discussion extended, you rarely responded; blanked expression, white noise ringing louder, and concentration in your head afloat elsewhere.

Until—

You gripped the young knight’s hand, without looking back over your shoulder and twisted his fingers; he yelped, his body collapsed as you twisted his hand and arm farther with your good hand, with your position changed—then with both hands, you shifted—slammed his weight against the marbled table, his arms twisted on the back, leaving everyone standing in shock. The council collectively had their breaths inhaled, paled at the sudden shift within you.

“I said, don’t touch me,” you reminded him, voice darkened.

Criston tried to hauled you, but you resisted.

“He has your possessions,” Alicent begged, motherly as she sounded, while the guards prowled at your direction to arrest you.

At once, you released the young knight and reclined back to your seat. From there, you opened your purse after retrieving it, inspecting all your items are intact. He hissed, appeasing the pain on his hand. The council members slowly arrived back into their seats.

“Seems you’re no ordinary maiden,” Otto said.

You ignored him. “I haven’t had a chance to get a fucking break. I think you got the answers by now that I’m not from here. I’m neither a prostitute nor a foreign bitch or a Wildling from those places you mentioned, one that you people are accusing me of.”

Nobody moved.

“I don’t think you understand the occurrence, my lady,” Jason Lannister barged in with soft voice. “In fact, you have no clue to why you’re graciously summoned.”

“I didn’t know being “graciously” summoned in the meeting by guards dragging me out of the blue.”

“You don’t know what it’s at stake. You have woken the whole seven kingdoms in Westeros! And the dragons barely slept—flying about the skies and roared as if they’re dying. I suggest you start acting like a noble maiden instead of being a foolish common whore in Street of Silk,” Jason Lannister suggested.

In paused silence, everyone was waiting for your answer.

Opening your clutched bag, you took out your dragon lighter and the pack of cigarettes; lighting up the cigarette and blew a smoke as you turned away.

The council watched in astonishment as you held a foreign object in your hand.

“Where I come from won’t matter, and as far as I’m concerned I would worry about something else more important, if I were you.” Your eyes narrowed it almost shadowed.

“Father, she’s in no better shape. It would be best if we leave her for a proper recovery to regain answers,” Alicent said, giving you sympathy. “Dragging her from her bedside while under the Milk of the Poppy won’t do much good.”

You looked at her with a smile in gratitude.

Shutting his eyes, Otto rubbed the bridge of nose. “We will continue this tomorrow. King Viserys would like to witness the accountability of the young woman.”

The council absconded the meeting, as you watched them up and left, you did the same, leaving to your quarters, but the Cargyll twins followed and escorted back.

~Aemond’s POV~

Under a stricken of nightly hour in King’s Landing, after a long watch in the secret pathway, Aemond’s internal aggravation simmered and worsened as time struck pass. Hands flexed and fingernail scratched against the palm, recalling on you exiting the council, despite the Cargyll brothers kindly escorted you back to a spare room that Aemond assigned since your first arrival. He could never undo the memory of you.

Soon, Aemond learned that Daemon ordered them to a quick way “summon” you. Ser Criston and Aemond abducted the men in armor who mistreated you, yanking the sleeping guards buried deep the underground of Red Keep, only for their tongues to be cut and their bones to be bloody and fractured.

He got up and under the lavish wooden box, it contained in miscellaneous items. But underneath, he had the possession of your clothes—all washed and dried. No blood stains or mud was to be seen.

Once he gathered the materials, Aemond lounged back on his velvet chair near at the great hearth, not averting from the bright fire, clenching your attire in his arms, and lifted to his nose; a fainted scent of vanilla and strawberry wafted, aroused his cock.

His heart aflame, determined and tribulation all at once. He must have you. He must claim you as his only lover. He must claim you and your smile alone. His white flower, his hope, his wandering light. He must succeed.

No matter what.

Taglist: @galactict3a @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @taintedlovesworld @kukulyarva @darylandbethfanforever9 @blackswxnn @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved.

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #reader #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #ao3 #archive of our own #writeblr #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fandom #fandom #multifandom #writing #my writing #writers and poets #tumblr #fluff #my fic

[baddestbittyontheblock]

alessia russo fic recs (2/3)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

𖧷 favorite aunty alessia russo x reader

-your supporting less in australia for the world cup on her days off you meet her at her hotel and walk for hours around the cities you’re in, both adamant on bringing zel with you since her family is not there and being her “siblings she never had” anyway your brother his wife and your niece fly over to support lessi aswell, both of your families obviously being close but since you only speak to your brother, only he is around. watching less score the winner in the semi finals was a dream for all of you, listening to your niece ramble incoherent words about how ‘auntie lessless’ is her idol.

𖧷 lucky alessia russo x reader

-boyfriend lessi on holiday in Ibiza just looking after you when you have too much to drink and both of you just having a great holiday

𖧷 bambi alessia russo x reader

-we know how Alessia is clumsy right? Imagine if the reader is just as bad if not worse, the two of them are a right mess when near one another. And her and Alessia are both so oblivious to their feelings for each other that the team just have to deal with these two lovestruck clumsy idiots who tip toe around their feelings until eventually something pushes them to realise and confess

𖧷 cuddly lessi is best lessi alessia russo x reader

-bf alessia blurb about how she is your personal heater? she looks so cuddly

𖧷 childhood sweethearts (7) alessia russo x reader

-part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

𖧷 unexpected meetings alessia russo x reader

-The reader forgets Alessia's team bonding and bursts into the room, her teammates don't know about the reader

𖧷 enemies alessia russo x reader

-alessia x reader where r plays for an opponent team and they sorta get into it on the pitch because they’re so passionate playing

𖧷 23 weeks alessia russo x reader | fluff, pregnant!reader, wag!reader, caretaker!alessia, protective!alessia, future milfs

-alessia has become very protective of you ever since you got pregnant

𖧷 iced coffee alessia russo x reader

-reader annoys lessi like this while she is trying to order at a drive through for us

𖧷 the feels alessia russo x reader | a tad bit of angst and a lot of tooth-rotting fluff & comfort

-five times you and Alessia soft launched yourselves on social media, and one time you two hard launched your relationship.

𖧷 wag - part 2 alessia russo x reader

-the past two years with alessia have been the best years of your life - apart from the years you had your daughters - and you couldn't be happier.

𖧷 childhood sweethearts (6) alessia russo x reader

-part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

𖧷 reckoning alessia russo x reader | angst/comfort, swearing

-lessi’s first game against united

𖧷 winner winner alessia russo x reader | a little spicy

-alessia’s first wsl goal has you both celebrating on and off field

𖧷 i licked it so its mine a.russo x l.williamson x reader

-katie’s story of “I licked it so it’s mine”, inspired a funny crack blurb with Leah x Less x Reader

𖧷 hands off alessia russo x reader | some jealousy, some possessiveness, a little suggestive

-alessia doesn’t like people touching what’s hers

𖧷 she's somebody's daughter alessia russo x reader

-reader is Jonas’s daughter

𖧷 keep pretending pretty girl alessia russo x reader

-alessia is adamant that shes straight, she just likes kissing you sometimes, and she just likes holding your hand, and she only likes it when you talk to her

𖧷 book love unc!alessia russo x reader

-alessia loves how different the two of you are, despite everyone's teasing

𖧷 we'll write history together alessia russo x reader | fluff, angst, a little suggestive. A whole lot of everything tbf

-being in relationship with a teammate is all fun and games, until it isn’t

𖧷 shut down alessia russo x reader

-jealous bf less who KNOWS she shouldn’t be jealous, and she’s just gone quiet bc she doesn’t wanna say anything. and then that creates a whole thing with r who feels like maybe she’s don’t something wrong. and then it all blows up and leads to a guilt confession from less about why she was quiet

𖧷 as long as i’m here (no one can hurt you) alessia russo x reader | hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety & self loathing -this gets dark so please read at your own discretion!

-your heart’s in your throat and you don’t know how it got there. your heart’s in your throat and the world around you’s dark.

𖧷 passenger princess ficlet alessia russo x reader

-Y/n actually buying a car or she’s makes Alessia think bought one. instead she rented it out for the week and Alessia hates the fact that she doesn’t have her passenger princess. And instead she becomes one for the week and girl tease her about to.

𖧷 seeing red alessia russo x leah williamson x reader

-leah x alessia x reader where less gets a yellow card in a match and y/n isn't best pleased about it so leah tries to get them to make up with eachother

𖧷 it was late at night (you held on tight) alessia russo x reader | hurt/comfort, slight mention of heavy topics- read at your own discretion!

-some nights were good. the type of good where breathing came easy. where the air was light, the stars bright. nights where friends felt like family, a house a home. 

𖧷 the awakening alessia russo x reader | injury, but nothing too specific

-reader and alessia plays for arsenal and are best friends, but when in one game reader gets tackled really badly alessia gets really protective and realises her feelings for reader

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #engwnt #engwnt x reader #fic recs

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

My central thesis has always been that the Harkles wanted everything the Wales have and more. I know I remember reading that she cried after hearing William was made Prince of Wales. Right from the get go, her PR was all "Meghan is way better suited to be royal". Then there were all the Commonwealth flowers on her bridal veil and their insistence that they move into Windsor Castle. Now I don't believe everthing Neil Sean says, but his latest video mentions that Megxit was an ultimatum to get Windsor. As that is the traditional home of the Monarch, I feel as though they were attempting a coup.

Then there is the thought that Harry believes that the Dutchy of Cornwall should be split and he should eventually be made co-King or King of the Commonwealth. Let the Wales have that tiny island while they are jetted and feted around the world.

Here's my question for you. Did Meghan and Sparry REALLY believe they could leapfrog over the Wales??? I know her jealousy and envy of Catherine is bunny boiler level and he absolutely eviscerated his brother in Waagh. Has this been their plan all along?? Death by a thousand cuts for the Wales to force them to resign their place in the LOS or that they could somehow convince Charles to make Harry the heir??

I'd like to know where you think the delusions stem from. It wouldn't be the first time in history that younger brother has attempted to remove old brother from the throne.

Sincerely appreciate your blog and all the work you put into it. I'm always learning something new.

I'm pretty sure that was exactly their plan: they wanted to use their popularity to force The Queen to name them as her successors. I don't remember where I read this or when, but allegedly Harry sent "documentation" to someone - to whom specifically I can't recall, but options are The Queen, Charles, William, and/or grey suits - providing evidence for claims that he and Meghan were more popular than any of the others and deserved more than what they were getting.

And if they couldn't get the actual crown, they were going to do their damnedest to try and get a co-kingship with William. That's where Meghan's obsession with the Commonwealth came from; she had been told (again, I don't know by whom - all signs point to Harry exaggerating to keep her interested or maybe Charles spitballing ideas during his 'Magnificent Six' planning circa 2012) that William would rule Britannia and Harry would rule the Commonwealth.

I think that's why Meghan went all in on 'racist Kate.' Not only did she want to knock Kate out of the spotlight, she wanted to do enough damage that Commonwealth/realm nations would threaten to quit and The Queen would capitulate by offering to install Harry and Meghan as new leaders. This actually had a chance of working; it's been said quite often during her last years and since her passing that The Queen saw the Commonwealth as her greatest legacy and there was speculation that she would have done anything she could have to keep it in tact. And had Meghan played her cards right, she and Harry probably could have ended up becoming the main ambassadors of and for the Commonwealth, like a Commonwealth version of the UN Secretary-General.

But where the plan failed, obviously, was that it required blaming Kate for problems and issues that don't exist. Because remember, in 2021 when Meghan was making these claims, we'd just gone through the huge global reckoning that was Black Lives Matter and the agreement during/after BLM was "call racist people out on their BS. Put them on blast. Don't let them get away with it anymore." So not only would Meghan have been perfectly justified to name names, cite events, bring receipits, air the real dirty laundry and everyone would've been so much more supportive of it. But she didn't. Instead she played coy and said something like "I'm protecting them even though they don't deserve it."

Girl, please. That was Meghan's one chance to go justifiably scorched earth and air out all the dirty laundry and she fumbled hard.

Anyway. Let's get this train back on track. Where do the delusions come from? Traumatic childhoods courtesy of Mommies Dearest.

We all know Harry's story with Diana. She was a young, fun, free spirited loving mom larger than life with a neediness that she depended on her children to fill, rather than her own husband or other adults her age, so Harry grew to find satisfaction in supporting and providing her what she needed. He probably saw, and understood, the way Diana received what she wanted by exaggerating what she needed and following it up with excluding or isolating herself until whoever came chasing after her to give her what she wanted. And ultimately this led her (and Harry) down a path that ended up killing her; she exaggerated the relationship with Dodi to get attention from Hasnat or the BRF, then isolated herself in France to force whoever (Hasnat? Charles Wales? Charles Spencer?) to come chase after her. We know how that ends.

That's where Harry's delusions, IMO, come from. He saw how it well it worked (mostly) for Diana - exaggerate her needs/wants, then run and hide until she gets it - so he does it too. He probably started doing it right after she died, when no one knew what to do or how to handle him so they kept indulging in everything he wanted, so those wants kept manifesting bigger and bigger. And I think the way we see the BRF treating Harry is what would have happened to Diana had she lived; eventually the public would sour on her (this was already happening, by the way), which would then enable the BRF to grey rock her, devenomizing her in effect, and move on without Diana having too much of an influence on their day-to-day.

It's sort of similar for Meghan. We don't know specifically what happened (the way we do with Harry and Diana), but we know that Doria was a young, fun, free-spirited mother herself married to an older husband who had other priorities (eg kids from his first marriage). Unlike Diana, Doria probably didn't want the responsibilities of motherhood (which is the vibe Meghan and Thomas have given about Doria during Meghan's childhood) and left. And like the BRF, Thomas may have also overcompensated Doria's absence in Meghan's life by giving her everything she asked for, which made her asks get bigger and bigger and when Thomas couldn't deliver, she threatened to leave him...like Doria did and Thomas, erstwhile girldad he was, just kept throwing more and more at Meghan to keep her happy. Her delusions come from preying on other individuals' trauma to ensure she gets what she wants. The bigger her wants (ie the more grandiose her delusions), the harder she manipulates other people's trauma to make sure she gets what she wants. Which is kinda the opposite of Harry and Diana; they create the trauma to get people to do what they want, whereas Meghan exploits it to get people to do what she wants. Both are skills they learned after being abandoned (metaphorically and literally) by their mothers.

And all of Meghan's PR about "young mother," I think it's more insidious than that. Yes, it's a very overt evocation of Diana's narrative. Yes, it's a judgement against Kate. But it is also digs at Doria. "See? Motherhood is hard but I'm prioritizing my kid. How dare you to have left me" kind of spiteful digs meant to shame her for whatever happened that caused her to disappear. Meghan is the kind of person who must always have the last word, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's been targeting or belitting Doria about not knowing certain things about Archie/Lili because she wasn't around when Meghan was that age.

So...yeah.

I've realized now that this is the third or fourth Wednesday in a row that I write these super long analytical/in this essay I will posts. I guess Wednesdays are my thinking days...

#ask #sussexes #theories #brf