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atomicladytimetravel · 5 months

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Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou smut

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

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Totally not writing about Tuesday on a Thursday

Masterpost wc: 674 cw: attempted mugging

“Look, dude, I have seven dollars and fourteen cents in my wallet. I know that because I had to buy lunch on campus today and I have no idea how I’m going to make seven dollars and fourteen cents last the rest of the week,” a voice said from the alley that Jason was approaching.

A voice that was becoming very familiar over meals and passing each other on the stairs.

“What’s in the fucking bag?” a different voice croaked. “Hand it over.”

“My notes from class and binders of engineering diagrams. It’s worth even less than seven fourteen. I don’t even have a working pen in there, dude, the last one exploded in my hands this afternoon. Do you see how blue my hands are? That is not natural. I hope you know that that is not natural.”

Was Danny really being mugged and talking back to the mugger? This guy was a disaster. Jason moved quietly as he approached where the alley started.

“You’re a fucking liar, hand it over!”

“Okay,” Danny said with forced calm. “Just taking the bag off…”

There was was a heavy ‘fwack’ followed by an ‘omph’ of pain and the distinctive sound of a body hitting the ground. Jason gave up being stealthy and sprinted around the corner. Hopefully the mugger hadn’t gone for anything vital. His place was stocked with first aid, they were close by, he could—

Danny’s head shot up from where he was standing, bag dangling from his hand, over the prone body of the mugger. He smiled sheepishly. “Jason, hi!”

“Don’t ‘hi’ me, Tuesday! Are you okay?” Jason asked. He nudged the mugger hard with his foot. He only got a groan in response.

“Oh, yeah. I mean I’m still broke and tired, but what else is a college student?” Danny said breezily a he shouldered his bag again. He ran a hand through his long bangs, pushing them back. “But I’m fine— he didn’t even nick me with his knife!”

“You still shouldn’t argue with a mugger like that, it’s a good way to get stabbed,” Jason said, taking Danny’s hands and checking that he hadn’t actually been slashed. Jason wouldn’t put it past Danny to hide injuries, “and you don’t want to be stabbed.”

“Yeah, it really sucks. It took me weeks to heal last time I was, I kept ripping my stitches open,” Danny said breezily.

Jason had to close his eyes and take a breath. How was this guy alive? He grabbed the knife the mugger was using, folding it up and tucking it away, before he rooted through the man’s pocket.

“Um, Jay? What are you doing?”

“Looking for his— there!” Jason pulled out the rubber banded roll of cash and tossed it at Danny who almost most fumbled the catch. It was sorta precious how he looked down at it, eyes all wide in shock.

“Call it emotional distress compensation. No way you’ll find who else he robbed and he sure doesn’t deserve it.”

Danny cocked his head, several emotions running across his face before he shrugged and shoved the cash into his bag. “Guess I get to still eat this week!”

“Tuesday,” Jason said. He reached out and tilted Danny’s head up by the chin so that their eyes met. “If you ever don’t have enough to eat, you come to me, alright?”

“I don’t want to—”

“Tuesday,” Jason said more firmly. “I like cooking. I always make extras for left overs. I won’t have anyone in the building starving— I know what that’s like. If you don’t have enough to eat or the energy to cook or anything else, you come to me. There’s always food at my place. Now be a good boy and say you understand.”

Danny blushed and nodded, his head rocking in Jason’s large hand. “I understand."

“Good boy,” Jason said with a smirk. He let his thumb brush over Danny’s cheek before he dropped his hand. “Now come on, I don’t trust you get back home in one piece.”

-----

AN: Jason continues to despair over Danny's self preservation. Danny continues to blue screen over Jason. It's been so fun to get to explore the Jason/Danny dynamic as opposed to the Red Hood/Danny! It's turning out nothing like I expected LOL For how willing Hood is to be put on his knees by a feral Danny, Jason sure enjoys taking control of this soft nerd. Idk, I'm just going with it!

Due to being shadow banned (still, ugh), I'm no longer tagging people! To be notified please go to this post and subscribe!

#dp x dc #dead on main #the fic that i'm not writing

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princesssmars · 8 months

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hazel falling in love with her childhood family friend is rotting my brain actually.

wc : 1383

sfw and slight nsfw? fem reader. thanking emma and rachel for making hazel rich because i love writing rich people stuff. i’d say maybe a good mix of cocky!hazel and loser!hazel because i love both so bad.

so for the first six years of her life she spends her winter holidays at a beautiful chalet in aspen with her parents, spending the days having snowball fights with her dad and falling asleep by the fireplace with her mom.

just like. she's rich, and her mom seems like one of thos wealthy women who loves to go on vacation to show off her perfect life and her perfect friends, so she or her husband definitely had a vacation house they'd visit every year.

when she turns seven they finally let her start skiing on the bunny slope, figuring it’s better than the little evil genius thing she does with the pots and the tiny snowmen. for a little kid she's pretty good at the sport already, if not taking the pizza and french fry tip a little too seriously.

about an hour in though, she's taking her umpteenth trip down the hill when a four foot mass slams into her right side, going at way above whatever speed limit was allowed in this area. she's lying flat on the ground, her right arm aching and her hound pounding and she's about ten seconds from crying when she looks over to see you, face planted in the snow and your shoulders shaking as you laugh like you're insane.

both sets of your parents rush over to make sure that the both of you are ok, and after you manage to calm down a bit and give hazel a very formal sounding apology that your mom whispered in your ear, you ask hazel if she can help you learn to control your speed on the slopes.

so after an hour of driving her crazy as she tries to teach you how to control your speed, your moms sit at a table watching over the both of you while sipping on their drinks and becoming fast friends.

ever since then, each winter was spent together. whether it was spending time in the snow, (hazel continued to excel at skiing, eventually giving up on trying to teach you), sharing stories of your normal lives over cups of cocoa at the cafe in the ski lodge, and helping each other decorate your christmas trees that you both had to beg your parents to buy.

whenever she went back home the days following new years, she’d count the days until she could see you again. to compensate for the time apart your parents let you send a horde of letters and e-mails to each other, letting the two of you share long phone calls on their phones when you were still to young to have your own.

hazels secret favorite hobby became photography. you couldn’t go twenty minutes without her shoving her polaroid camera in your face. she’ll tell you it’s because she’s using the vacation time to explore and try new things, and not that she constantly looks back over the photos of you with a big smile and a flush to her face.

(she also won’t mention that she’s addicted to the feeling she gets when pj and josie come over to her house and pj goes ona ten minute rant about how impossible it is that a girl that pretty could spend time with hazel without being insane. she ignores the insult because she’s hung up on the fact oh called you pretty.)

now i think hazel was pretty much always aware of the fact that she liked girls, if not because she realized that being obsessed with a certain scene from cruel intentions and always volunteering to play the husband when one of her friends wanted to play house on the playground was, in fact, not straight.

but at this point she’s maybe fifteen, she’s starting to grow into her looks and she’s definitely not ready to admit she might has a crush on you. at this point you both have had your own phones for a while, and she couldn’t even count the amount of times she had fallen asleep with you over facetime.

over the course of that year she often found herself wondering what your sexuality was. dumb ass stereotypes had her believing there was no way you, pretty and popular and preppy you could possibly be gay. and if you were a lesbian there was no chance that you'd like her back.

it was just made all the more confusing when once she had complained about how she hadn't had a girlfriend, let alone a first kiss yet and she was nearly halfway through high school with no experience for the hundredth time that you told her you had a solution for her on your next shared trip.

so you can imagine her shock when three days after landing in aspen you pull her into your room in your lodge and sit her on your bed before telling her you knew the perfect way to get more experience was to experiment with you.

"your first few times kissing and stuff can be pretty awkward, so why not just do it with me? i can show you the ropes and stuff.”

now on the outside she seemed normal, agreeing with an easy smile on her face, but on the inside her brain was playing the loudest tornado siren known to man.

it starts tame, the first few days consisting of you just telling her about your past experiences with girls and how to take it slow and everything. she knows its important but it honestly feels like torture. every time you talk to her she's wondering about what you'll do to start the physical lesson, if you'll set her down on her plush bed and softly touch her, or if you'll finally get fed up with the waiting like she is and press her and take her against a wall.

if you had known you would have prepared, but hazel was a freak in disguise and had decided that she was ready to take things into her own hands. you had invited her to sleep over at yours and drink hot cocoa while watching christmas movies and she had accepted in a heartbeat. what she didn't expect was for you to be wearing really cute pajamas, your legs covered in little hello kitty's and christmas trees with a plain red top and geez she could see you weren't wearing a bra.

hazel was a ticking time bomb, and when the two of you were sitting on the couch and she watched the reds and whites and golds dance across your face and you looked ovver at her with a 'what's wrong, hazie?' she exploded, smushing her lips onto yours in a mess of limbs and teeth.

she can feel your giggles in her mouth as she presses you down into the plush of the couch, her excited hands gripping your cheeks before brushing over your chest and gripping your waist, grinding her hips into yours and groaning when your giggle turned into high pitched moans.

it feels like she kisses you for hours before you reluctantly stop, your hands going to press into her shoulders when her head follows yours to resume making out. "hazel, as much as i'm enjoying this we were supposed to be taking this slowly. since when did you know how to...do that?"

"i dont know i just," she sighs as she tries to catch her breath, starting to get embarrassed about what a virginal mess she must look and be acting like. but you seem to like it, so she starts to not care all that much. "i just really want you. i wanna do everything with you."

you smile and hold her cheek in your hand, her eyes fluttering shut at your touch. you look at the gentle expression on her face, the slowing of her breath, and how her hips still occasionally stutter downward looking for yours, and you cant find it in your heart to deny her. you never really could.

"ok, hazie. we can do whatever you want-"

you're cut off before you can finish, the girl quickly rejoining your lips together and groping at your body once again.

when she gets back from vacation, hazel is less single, less unexperienced, and more than ready to throw this in pj's face.

i kinda lost inspo for this can you tell :,(((( but i thought the idea was cute so take this thing. bye.

#bottoms movie #bottoms x reader #hazel #hazel callahan #hazel x reader #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fluff

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zepskies · 7 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 13

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.

AN: For those who didn't catch my announcement on Monday, I released Part 12 earlier this week! Now, on to a confrontation I think a lot of you have been waiting for...

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Attempted sexual assault. Protective Dean, angst, hurt/comfort.

Part 13: “Boiling Point”

Usually, Christmas was your absolute favorite time of the year.

This holiday was a baker’s dream, and you and your grandmother used to volunteer at the church bake sale every Christmas Eve. Grandpa George had done his best to help you in the years after she died…but you just didn’t have it in you this year.

You considered it an accomplishment that you pulled down some of the decorations from the attic, putting them up around your house, and buying a little four-foot tree (also hauling it into the house yourself). However, you knew that you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, at least.

Sam and Dean had already invited you over to spend it with them. You would have the chance to get to know Eileen better, and you would even get to meet the famous John Winchester…

But you still had one reason to dread the end of the month.

Nick Savage threw a Christmas party every year. It was equal parts celebration and networking, and as a top performer of the sales division, you were expected to come.

The problem was, this time the party was going to be held at his house.

“You can’t just not go?” Andréa asked, shortly before taking a massive bite of her burrito. The two of you were grabbing dinner together after another long day at the office, followed by a movie later.

You’d realized just how much you had missed your best friend.

“Yeah, that’ll be great for me. Josh will get to chat up the whole team and get them clamoring to kiss his dick. Nick will give him the Sales Manager position just to spite me,” you said, while picking at your taco salad. “He keeps pitting us against each other for his own enjoyment, but I swear to God he harps on me the most.”

Andréa frowned. “Are you sure Nick just doesn’t have a thing for you? It sounds like he’s a little boy, picking on a girl he likes.”

You pursed your lips. She still didn’t know the full extent on your boss’s thing with you. You hadn’t told her about the last time Nick cornered you in his office, dangled a promotion in front of you, and basically gave you an ultimatum: sleep with him, or don’t move up in the company.

You hadn’t told anyone, for that matter.

You were just trying to figure out how to not get fired, while still getting compensated for your hard work. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what he thinks about me,” you said vehemently.

It earned your friend’s gaze, and her raised eyebrows.

“Whoa,” she chuckled. “Easy there, Miss Congeniality. That’ll be sure to earn you the promotion.”

“No, really,” you said. You stabbed into your salad with a fork. “I’m so fucking sick and tired of having to tap dance my entire work life around him. He’s a goddamn child who thinks he can have whatever he wants just because Daddy gave him his own little kingdom!”

Andréa eyed you more with concern. Her hand reached for your arm. Meanwhile, you were forcing slower breaths through your nose.

“You okay?” she asked. “I don’t like the ‘crazy town’ look in your eyes right now.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Just hangry, I guess.”

You took another bite of your food. Andréa gave you a skeptical look, but she let it go for now, with a smirk.

“Yeah, well. Eat a Snickers, bitch. I don’t need you snapping on me again,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes, but you had to laugh a little. You shoved at her shoulder.

She gripped her own arm in fake panic. “Someone call the cops! This crazy woman just punched me out over a salad!”

You tried to shush her, even though you were giggling. Your head swiveled around in the restaurant, giving apologetic eyes to the people around you.

“Although, $20 for a few sprigs of romaine lettuce and a sliver of chicken? That’s worth punching somebody the fuck out,” she said, throwing down her napkin. “Let’s never come here again.”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “I don’t think they’ll let us back here anyway.”

A few days later, you didn’t want to admit you were stressing out over this night.

“Have I said thank you? Because I mean it. Thank you for taking time off for this,” you said, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in Dean’s blazer.

He looked good in black. It was classic, and the new suit was smart without being “too much” for him. (Sam had taken him to his “suit guy,” as Dean called it.)

Dean grabbed your arms to stop your slightly flustered hands. He smirked down at you as his eyes once again took in your dark red dress. It was simple and sleeveless, but elegant, falling just above the knee. Of course, you had to be wearing the tallest pair of black heels he’d ever seen.

“It’s no sacrifice, believe me,” he replied.

You smiled, but he noticed something behind your eyes.

“You okay?” he asked. “Seems like you don’t really want to go to this thing.”

“I don’t,” you admitted on a sigh. “But my boss will know if I’m not there…I told you about the open Sales Manager position, right?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean nodded. His smile slid into a frown as he watched you bustle around your room, looking for your purse while you smoothed out the soft waves you’d managed to style your hair in, checking your eyeliner and lipstick too in the mirror.

“As usual, it’s down to me and Josh,” you said. “If I keep my numbers up and use tonight to network with my own team, get the rest of the guys on my side, maybe Nick will see that I’m the right choice.”

Dean came up behind you, resting a hand on your lower back.

“And this manager job…that’s what you want?” he asked.

You turned to him with a questioning look. “Well, yeah. I’ve been working here for five years, busting my ass.”

“And I got no doubt that you’re good at what you do,” Dean said. “But you do know, there hasn’t been a day since I met you that you didn’t have something crap to say about that job, and those people you work with.”

You frowned, and you thought about what he was saying. Sure, you complained about Nick, but did you really talk that much shit about your job?

“Everyone has things they don’t like about their work,” you reasoned. “Even you have your bad days.”

Though he tended to keep those days to himself, you knew when he’d had a tough call at the firehouse. You’d been trying your best to be a listening ear if he needed it, or if not, at least a soothing presence. It was more often the latter with Dean.

He acknowledged your point with a nod. “Okay, fair enough. I don’t know…I just think you’re wasting your talent.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, you’re like…an artist. It’s nothing me, or Sam, or Andréa, or anybody in your life hasn’t told you before,” said Dean. “You went to school to do your dream. And I know life happened. But I also know that when I walk into the firehouse, it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. Can you say that when you walk into the Savage building?”

You took in a breath. You understood what he was saying, but as much as you wanted to indulge the fantasy of owning your own business, being your own boss, creating your own menu, and giving people quality baked goods…you had to live in reality here.

Opening a brick-and-mortar business was expensive. And most restaurants, even bakeries, weren’t profitable for at least one to three years. You still had plenty of bills, and not even a car since the accident.

“I’ve invested too much time here to quit, Dean,” you said.

The conversation died there, but it left something new and awkward between you two. You tried to put it out of your mind while he drove you both over to the “filthy fucking rich” side of town, through a massive gate, and into a wide parking lot that had a valet driver waiting. Nick’s ridiculous house was a monument to trust fund kids everywhere.

Dean reluctantly handed over the keys to the Impala.

“No donuts in the parking lot.” He eyed the 20-something-year-old valet with all due scrutiny. “Trust me, I’ll know.”

You smirked and slipped your arm around his to tug him up the steps, toward the large double doors of the house.

“Come on, Rambo. Baby’ll be fine without you.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean quipped back. Still, he moved his arm out of yours, just to wrap it around your waist and pull you against his side. His lips pressed against your cheek.

“You look sexy as hell,” he said lowly near your ear. “Did I forget to mention that?”

“No.” Your smile deepened. “But doesn’t hurt to mention again. I might just have to reward my boyfriend for humoring me tonight, getting all dapper himself.”

You and Dean made it up to the porch and you knocked on the door. He shot you a raised brow as his lips tugged upwards.

“Oh, yeah? We talkin’ lace or satin?” he asked. His lips brushed your temple.

You pretended to think. “Little of both, actually. It’s new. And it’s red…and I might just be wearing it right now.”

Dean’s brows shot up in surprise. His gaze subtly dragged over your every curve, as if he had x-ray vision to spy through your dress. You maintained an enigmatic smile.

“Oh, you’re diabolical,” he muttered. His hand moved down to playfully squeeze your ass. You had to bite your lip to stifle the sound you made, as that’s when the doors finally began to swing open.

Dean’s hand moved up a respectable few inches, resting on your waist.

You both smiled and greeted the attendant who let you into the house.

A quick text let you know that Benny and Andréa were already here, each holding a flute of champagne. You and Dean met up with them in the huge living room space (which might has well have been a grand hall, for how large it was).

It held 50 people easily, but the party was already spanning the entire house, of at least two stories. It made your house look like a modest Barbie Dream home, without the pool attachment.

And Nick Savage was at the center of it all, greeting each guest and their “plus ones.”

When he spotted your group, he smoothly excused himself from the conversation with Josh and his wife, and headed over to you.

“Incomiiing,” Andréa quietly sing-songed. She sipped her champagne.

You steeled yourself, and you did your best to give a polite smile when Nick arrived with a pleasant “Merry Christmas.” You forced yourself to remain still when his hand fell on your arm, and he reached out to shake Dean’s hand in greeting, followed by Andréa and Benny.

“Welcome, you guys,” he said, giving you a smile that hid just a hint of a smirk. “Justin let you know where everything is, right? Lotsa drinks, the good stuff, I promise. Plenty of food, hot chocolate and eggnog fountains, if that’s your thing. And a hell of a lot more out back by the pool.”

“Great, thank you,” you nodded politely.

“All right! Let’s party,” Nick fist-pumped in the air. He pointed towards you and Dean. “You need a drink in your hand, stat.”

“I’m fine for now. Going to wait until I have something to eat first,” you replied. If you were going to get a glass of wine, it wouldn’t be one that Nick handed to you.

He pouted a little, but he looked at Dean next. “How about you, big guy? What you drinkin’?”

Dean shot you a glance, but before he could respond, Nick interrupted.

“You look like a whiskey guy. Am I right?” he asked.

Dean inclined his head. “Guilty.”

“Perfect. See? I’ve got an instinct for people,” Nick said, tossing you a wink as he headed for the nearby bar. “I’ll be back. You crazy kids relax and have fun.”

You had to admit, he knew how to turn on the charm when he had to. But who the hell said crazy kids under the age of 45?

“He’s uh…got pep,” Benny remarked.

Andréa snorted and tapped her glass. “He’s a few shots in already.”

“You think?” Dean asked.

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes. If there was one thing you could count on, it was for Nick Savage to be drinking.

“He knows how to act when everyone’s watching,” you said.

You looked up at the high-vaulted ceilings and expensive artwork on the walls, not noticing how Dean glanced at you with the edge of a frown.

At the very least, the food was excellent. It was served in a large back room that served as a banquet hall, meant for entertaining.

There you and Dean actually had a good time, with you sipping on red wine and Dean on a glass of the “good stuff,” all while playing cards with Andréa and Benny and a few of your coworkers on the sales team.

“I just can’t believe Adam quit, to join our main competitor, no less,” said Marv. “I had absolutely no idea he was thinking of leaving.”

He was the team gossip. He prided himself on knowing every coming and going on the sales floor, which confounded you, since Marv was also a bit of a hermit. He either kept to his office like it was a bomb shelter, or you could catch him in the break lounge grabbing yet another coffee, all the while keeping his ear perked up for scraps of conversation.

“Yeah, you did, Marv,” you replied with a smirk. “You’re the one who saw Adam’s resignation letter on his own desk.”

He hadn’t even handed said letter to Nick yet.

“Well, I knew it then, obviously,” Marv said, with his hands open wide. “It leaves us without a manager…which I think, not for long.”

His eyes met yours knowingly.

You smiled. “We’ll see. I think Josh is playing kiss-ass tonight.”

You turned your head and spotted Nick and Josh taking shots of tequila together at the bar, with the latter wincing at the burn with a lime peel in his mouth. Josh’s wife was sitting off to the side, rolling her eyes.

Your gaze focused on your boss for a moment. You shook your head at the state of him, with a loose tie and the top buttons undone on his shirt, laughing boisterously and egging Josh on.

Fucking frat bros.

“That’s your boss, huh?” Benny remarked.

“In all his Cuervo-stained glory,” Marv replied. He shook his head as well.

It made you realize something.

As nice a time as you’d been having, for about an hour at most, your good mood soured the moment you were reminded of the office politics. Of Josh and Nick and everything in between. Was this really what you wanted for the rest of your career?

The rest of your life?

Maybe Dean was right, you thought. You knew you were good at your job. You knew you were fortunate to even have a job that paid your bills…but maybe “being good” wasn’t enough for you.

If there was one thing you’d learned from your grandfather’s death, it was that peace was precarious. And sacrificing too many parts of yourself, for money, wasn’t a fulfilling life or even a happy one.

You wanted to be happy. You also wanted peace.

So you leaned over and laid a hand on Dean’s, which rested on the round table.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His head bowed near yours. “Hmm?”

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked. He raised his brows at you.

“Really? I thought you needed to stay and schmooze with your people,” he replied.

You smiled and drew your thumb across the inside of his wrist. “I think I’m done.”

Dean looked a bit confused. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. And you brushed your lips against the corner of his mouth. “You were right. It’s not worth it.”

A flicker of a smile began to tug at his lips, but his brows drew together.

“Hey. Are you sure?” he asked. “Don’t bow out just because of me—”

Your hand tightened on his wrist.

“No, baby. It’s me. My choice,” you said. “Let me just use the restroom real quick, and we can go.”

Dean nodded, and you stood.

“What, are you leaving?” Andréa asked. She was tucked into Benny’s side with a piece of red velvet cake poised on her fork. “You didn’t even finish your cake!”

You laughed. Turning down dessert was a big deal for you, but you’d live.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I just need to call it a night, but I’ll be back in a sec to say goodbye. Hold on.”

Andréa blew out a breath as you walked away from the table.

“She’s gonna miss the White Elephant gift exchange. Last year, someone got a 60” smart TV,” she said.

Benny whistled.

“I wouldn’t mind an upgrade,” he said. He shot Dean a glance. “What do you think the guys would do if we showed up with something like that to the station?”

Dean scoffed. “I think the Chief would have a damn conniption.”

Bobby was old-school. He thought they had enough distractions from the job as it was.

“Probably right,” Benny chuckled.

Andréa smiled in amusement. But her eyes clocked the way Nick glanced your way as you walked by, down the hall and to the right. She sipped at her glass of pinot grigio to wash down the rich cake.

Still, she discreetly watched the man down another shot before he took his leave of the bar. He laughed at something Josh said and waved him off.

She gave Nick credit for not stumbling on his feet, and only swaying slightly on the same path you took down the hall. It didn’t mean he was following you, necessarily. This house was like a small Smithsonian. And yet, something niggled in the back of her mind.

Andréa remembered how you’d acted at dinner the other day when talking about Nick. And how drained you’d seemed lately when she saw you after work. She’d thought that was just about finding your way after George’s death…

Marv distracted her with a question as Dean and Benny continued to talk, and she answered him with her usual charm. But she kept one eye on the hallway, waiting for you to come back.

She made it about another minute before she turned to Benny and Dean, leaning in close.

“Hey, Dean,” she said. “Maybe you want to check on her? She’s taking a while.”

Dean didn’t look concerned as he checked his watch. It hadn’t been all that long, but he still pulled out his phone to text you.

“She left her purse here,” Andréa said. She started to get up out of her seat. “I’m just gonna go see if she’s okay.”

Benny grabbed her hand before she left the table.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said, but she met Dean’s confused gaze. “Okay, look. I’ve been noticing some things with her recently. I have no evidence except for how well I know that woman, but something’s off with her. It happens every time she talks about that asshole Nick.”

Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to read between the lines.

“What’re you saying exactly?” he asked.

Andréa let out a breath. “I’m saying, I’ve got a bad feeling.”

You hummed as you washed your hands in the bathroom. Wine runs right through me. I should know better.

You’d also been trying to quell your anxieties and just get through the night. But you realized now that there was no kind of calm like the peace you had, now that you knew what you needed to do. Starting tomorrow, you were going to start looking for a new job.

A knock at the door made you jolt slightly.

“Someone’s in here!” you called without looking over your shoulder. You finished washing your hands and dried them on the hand towel hanging on a silver wall rack.

The door cracked open, but before you could protest, a man stumbled in.

Of fucking course it was Nick Savage.

“Excuse me?!” you breathed in shock. You watched with wide eyes as he pushed the door closed and seemed to take notice of you for the first time. He smirked.

“Oh, hey,” he said. Somehow, he was only slurring a little. He straightened his white blazer. The black satin shirt he wore was wrinkled and he smelled heavily of tequila, and that was with a couple of feet of distance between you two.

Your shock finally melted into a glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Gotta take a leak. It’s my house after all,” he shrugged, leaning a hand on the wall closest to the door for balance.

You shook your head, and with a huff, you tried to get by him.

His hand wrapped around your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”

You shoved his hand off of you.

“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”

Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge. When you reached for the doorknob again, he grabbed your arm and shoved you hard into the nearest wall.

You gasped as the air rushed out of your lungs. Before you even realized what was happening, you felt his clammy hands on your bare shoulders, his hot alcoholic breath on your face. You raised your hands in defense, pushing against his chest.

He was taller and stronger and pinned you harder against the wall, with his knee shoving its way between your legs. You stared up with wide eyes of fear, and his hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your scream.

Your nails bit into his arm and wrist, trying to peel back his sweaty hand, just an inch to free your voice and let you breathe. To your left you heard the door bang open.

Please—

And the hand was peeled away entirely.

You could only blink and watch as Dean barreled through, grabbing Nick and bodily hurling him away. Nick opened his mouth to spout something angrily, but Dean continued to stalk forward and grab the man again.

Nick attempted a lazy swing at Dean’s head, but he bat it away. His fist connected roughly with Nick’s face, snapping his head back with a cry.

It was almost too fast for you to track what was happening right in front of you, but Dean dragged the drunkard the rest of the way across the bathroom, even over the tub, and slammed him against the beige tile so hard that it knocked a few of them loose. Nick’s head smacked audibly against them and he groaned at the impact.

The men were around the same height, but Dean was honed by years of firefighting and fueled by rage. One hand gripped high on Nick’s collar, while his arm pressed against the man’s chest. Then into his throat.

“Give me a reason,” Dean said, in a voice much calmer than he felt. Behind his eyes was wildfire.

“What?” Nick choked.

You finally broke through enough of your shock to know you had to do something.

“Dean!” you uttered. You cautiously went to him, but he glanced at you over his shoulder in warning.

“Stay there,” he told you firmly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, even though your voice shook. “Let’s just go.”

Despite the blood dripping down from his likely bruised nose, Nick chortled a laugh. It earned Dean’s slow head turn, returning his attention to the decision at hand. His fist tightened in Nick’s shirt.

“You heard me,” Dean said. His voice was laced with steel. “I said give me a reason not to break your miserable fucking neck.”

“Dean,” you gasped.

“Not sure that’s a good idea, fireman,” Nick slurred. “I clearly don’t have all my wits about me right now. Can’t be held lia…li-ble for my actions, now can I? I’ll have your badge by end of the week.”

You let out a harsh breath and finally went to Dean. You laid a hand on his back. Every muscle was tense and straining under his white dress shirt.

“Dean,” you pressed. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

Nick smirked lazily in Dean’s face. It was the look of a man who was used to getting his way.

“I’d listen to her,” he said, with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Or I could just fire her on Monday. Make it easy on myself.”

Dean seethed. His forearm slowly rolled harder into the man’s neck, pressing on his windpipe. The sounds of choked air were satisfying.

“Yeah, or I’ll have the police down here in ten minutes or less,” said Dean. “I’ll clue you in on a little something. My dad’s a cop. I’ll reckon he’ll be happy to put a fucking douchebag like you in the can with the real charmers.”

Dean gave a mocking glance to Nick’s silk shirt, his gold pinky ring and loafers.

“How long do you think it’ll take for one of ‘em to make you their little bitch?” Dean said.

Nick glared back at him, with a frisson of intimidation behind his eyes. He glanced at you over his shoulder. Dean noticed and tightened his hold.

“Don’t you look at her, you piece of shit!” he warned. His voice was low and dangerous. “Make your choice. You gonna come down to the station easy, or difficult? Please say difficult.”

Nick held up placating hands. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall; one foot was planted on the ground while the other was in the tub. The shower curtain was half off its hooks.

Dean eased up enough for Nick to take a breath.

“Okay, let’s say we do that,” he said, with a cough. “I’ll get bail. Then I’ll fucking walk, ‘cause I own this town.”

“You mean your dad does,” you snapped.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Same name, same shit, sweetheart.”

Dean grit his teeth and tightened his grip again in warning. You wrapped your hand around his arm, but he didn’t budge.

Nick met his eyes.

“How about this. Get your greasy fucking hands off me, and we’ll call tonight a wash,” he proposed. “No foul, we all take our balls and go home.”

He then snorted at his own joke. “Balls…”

Dean tilted his head, but didn’t move a muscle. “Or?”

Once again, Nick smirked.

“I’ll report you to your boss for assaulting me in my own house. And uh, she’ll be fired, obviously.” He shrugged. “By the time my lawyers get done with her, she won’t be able to sling lattes at Starbucks.”

Dean’s face was stony, tight with outrage. His whole body was coiled like a spring as every cell in his body fought against ripping this man apart.

But he still felt your hands around his arm, trying to pull him back.

“Dean, don’t. He’s not worth your career. Please,” you begged.

The bathroom door pushed open again, and he heard Benny’s voice.

“Hey, brother.” He dropped a careful hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, now. You got him. Ease up now.”

Dean’s teeth ground together. He looked down, and his stare bored into Nick’s. Dean pressed his forearm into the other man’s throat again, enough to almost feel the give as the man struggled for breath.

“Remember how that feels,” Dean said icily. “20579, Dean Winchester. The next time you want to threaten my badge, that’s my number.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly. At the time, Dean took it as fear. But really, it was recognition.

Winchester, Nick thought.

Dean then leaned in closer, so only Nick would hear his next lowered words.

“First and last warning,” Dean said. “If you touch her again. If I hear anything more about you giving her a hard time, not a dime in the world is gonna save you from me.”

When Dean finally pulled his arm away and let go, Nick’s face was red and spluttering as he coughed and slumped into the bathtub.

Dean turned on his heel in anger and disgust. Andréa was supporting you with her arm around yours, but she released you to let Dean take over. You stared up at him with tearful eyes, and you reached for his hand.

He took it with his left, holding you steady. He then wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you out of the bathroom.

The air was tense and silent inside the Impala. It was a long drive back to your house, and Dean hadn’t looked at you once in 20 minutes. His gaze was firmly on the road. He hadn’t even turned on the radio.

You had his suit jacket draped around your frame, but your insides still felt cold. You glanced over at him and stared at his profile for a moment, wishing you knew what to say to break the silence. To reassure him that you were fine. (Even though it would've been a lie.)

He felt your stare and turned his head towards you.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked. His voice was gruff. “Andréa said she’s been noticing something off about you for a while.”

Your lips pressed together. “Can this part wait until we get home…please?”

Dean’s jaw ticked, but he turned back to the road ahead.

The car was silent for the rest of the hour.

It was a relief to turn the key into the door lock and step through the threshold of your house. Dean followed you inside and tossed his wallet and car keys on the side table by the door.

Somehow he always managed to miss the little basket you put there for exactly those things, but you weren’t about to remind him.

You slipped off your heels and went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, to steady yourself. Dean leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything, but you still felt his eyes on you.

With a sigh, you turned and met his gaze.

“Just tell me,” he said. “How long?”

You took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“It started before I even met you, Dean.”

His brows raised high. He tilted his head at you as incredulous anger tightened his face.

“What?” he said. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You shook your head and grabbed his arm. “Okay, come here.”

You led him into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. You explained that it started small, with compliments on your clothes, your hair. Then it was lingering looks, “innocent” brushes of his hand, touching your arm, your shoulder.

When you’d tried to put distance between you and Nick, the drunken shenanigans began. The comments grew heinous and sickening, and so did his threats.

And nothing you did worked. Not distance and professionalism. Not refusing his advances outright. Not threatening to go to HR.

All while you spoke, Dean was quiet, but on edge. You saw it in how he gripped his knee, with his other hand fisted against his mouth, elbow resting on his thigh.

But the hardest part of the conversation came when you told Dean about the day of the car accident—how Nick had demanded you come to his office and gave you a sickening ultimatum.

At that, Dean could no longer remain still. He got up and started to pace across the living room. He was a man of action, you knew, and his reaction was almost everything you’d feared.

I should've told him, you thought. You knew.

Although you now felt relieved, even in your guilt, you also knew this next part wasn’t going to be fun either. Because Dean finally erupted.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he asked.

Briefly, you closed your eyes. “No.”

“Why? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His hand buried itself in his hair as his jaw clenched. Even if your friend Andréa hadn’t known, she’d still seen enough to suspect something. It completely blew his mind, in the worst of ways.

“Jesus Christ!” he shook his head. “Why am I always the last one to know when something’s going on with you?”

Tears watered in your eyes as you looked up at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.

“I mean, really. What are we doing here, huh?” he exclaimed, his hands open wide. “Honestly, tell me. Because if you can’t trust me, then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Your eyes widened, a trill of panic lacing down your spine. You stood up and went to him.

“Dean, please, it wasn’t about that,” you said. You implored him with your eyes to understand. “I wanted to tell someone…God, you don’t know how bad I wanted to tell you. But I knew how you’d react. Just like this. I didn’t want to make the situation worse!”

He frowned deeply. “You didn’t want help? You didn’t want me to protect you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you snapped. But then, you sucked in a shaking breath, trying to calm yourself. You got closer and rested a hand against his chest.

“Of course I’m grateful that you protected me. Dean, I love you for it.”

You grasped the ends of his jacket with both hands. All you really wanted to do was bury yourself in his warmth and sleep for the next ten years. You were still raw and frayed inside.

Dean looked down at you, and his heart clenched. He couldn’t help but hold you back. His arms wound around your lower back as he pulled you against him. His chin rested above your head, and you sighed in relief.

“I thought I could handle it,” you confessed, in a smaller voice. “I worked so damn hard…I wanted to fight for my job. But Nick knew I didn’t have the money or the resources to fight back for real if I reported him, or even if I sued him. And before tonight, I didn’t have enough to take to the police.”

Dean pulled away just enough to see your face. He grasped your arms, gentle but firm.

“I’ll take you to the station right now,” he said. “My dad can help you. Hell, Sam can help you.”

You bit your lip and shook your head.

“You heard him, Dean. With his money and connections, he’ll get off. And then he’ll make both of our lives hell,” you said. “He’ll go after your badge—”

“He can fucking try,” he snapped.

“Stop, okay? I don’t want that,” you pleaded.

A sharp breath escaped through his nose, and he let you go.

“You’re fucking impossible, you know that?” he said. “How can I help you if you won’t let me?”

He was beside himself with frustration, and even hurt. You knew it in the way he tried to walk away from you, but you reached for his arm to stop him, with tears burning in your eyes. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want his support. That you didn’t trust him.

Because that couldn’t have been any farther from the truth.

“I’m sorry!” Your tears finally escaped, trailing down your cheeks. You tugged him back towards you, earning his furrowed glance. “I was…scared. I…I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with it at all.”

The longer Dean looked at your face, the more he crumbled.

Once again, he turned to gather you back into his arms. And there your tears fell in earnest. Your body trembled with quiet sobs, and he held you tighter. His heart broke a little more as his hand soothed over your hair. He shushed you more gently, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this, let alone for this damn long,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward for a moment as he mentally kicked himself. You didn’t deserve this, or his anger either.

He just couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed any signs, like Andréa had. All these months… It threatened to drive him up a fucking wall.

“You’re safe, and I’ve got you,” he said, continuing to hold you securely against him. “We’ll handle this, like everything else.”

After a moment, you nodded, letting out another shaky breath. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into his chest.

You already knew you must’ve looked a state, after the night you’d had, but you didn’t truly realize it until you were looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Mascara and lipstick smudged, hair disheveled, tears staining your cheeks.

Ugh. You hastily scrubbed your face clean with makeup wipes. Then you tamed your hair, brushing through the frizz and calming it back into relative normalcy.

You went for the zipper of your dress next, but you couldn’t get it down all the way. You turned to look over your shoulder.

“Dean,” you called.

He was in your room, rifling through his bag to grab the clothes he’d brought to sleep in.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Come ‘ere a sec?”

He obliged you, drawing into the bathroom. His white dress shirt was only half unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up. You met his eyes in the mirror.

“Can you unzip me?” you asked.

Dean looked down where your hands were holding both sides of the zipper on your dress. He took one side from you and unzipped it the rest of the way, stopping at the small of your back. He caught sight of the red, sheer lingerie underneath.

Noticing the way he paused, you smiled slightly. You turned toward him and tugged the dress down the rest of the way, so he could see the rest of the ensemble. It was a simple corset-style nightie, but true to your word, the lace was paired with satin trim lines.

Your hands ran up his sternum and undid the last buttons on his shirt. You grasped near his collar and leaned up on your toes for a slow kiss. Dean unconsciously held you to him by your shoulders, his eyes closing at the feel of you.

But when they next opened, he caught sight of the bruise on your shoulder. It was about the size of a thumbprint.

His throat tightened. After a moment, he parted from you, but he didn’t continue where you left off. You looked up at him in confusion.

“Baby?” you asked.

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t answer you; couldn’t even articulate what the hell was in his head. So he just turned and went back into the room for his change of clothes. It left you frowning, bereft, and worried.

You changed into an old shirt and some shorts before you got into bed. You slipped under the covers and watched Dean. He sat with his back to you as he unclipped his watch and set it down on the nightstand. By now he’d changed into his faded, gray Lawrence Fire Department shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Your throat constricted with emotion, namely with anxiety.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked.

Dean paused. He glanced back at you, saw you laying there with a hand gripped into the covers. His brows furrowed when he saw your shining tears.

He turned and got into bed with you. He slid his arm under your head and wordlessly encouraged you to come closer. His free hand soothed across your arm.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said at last. But he was still upset, and deeply unsettled. As the night replayed in his mind, he knew that at the root of his fury, there was fear.

“I just keep thinking,” he said. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t called out of work tonight.”

You looked down at that. You laid a hand on his chest.

“I wouldn’t have gone to the party,” you said. Though if you were honest with yourself, you probably would’ve thought yourself safe with Benny and Andréa. “I just…I really didn’t think he would try to—”

You tried to take a breath to steady yourself, but it was a tremulous release. The memory flashed behind your eyes, the remnants of panic and fear under your skin.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Dean’s hand was caressing your cheek, brushing away your tears.

“All right, shhh. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s over,” he said. Once again, he pulled you into his arms and held you close. Guilt hit him between the ribs for upsetting you all over again. “I promise you’re safe, and I’ve got you.”

You did your best to take in deep breaths, letting them out more steadily. Dean wanted to put the matter to bed for tonight. He really did…but he couldn’t help pressing one last thing.

“Just tell me you’re not going back there on Monday, unless it’s to HR,” he said.

You paused, shook your head a little. You didn’t want to rev him up again, but you knew Nick.

“He doesn’t make idle threats, Dean,” you reminded him. “But there’s a reason why he waited until tonight, at his house. He’s not going to try his luck at the office, where everyone’s watching.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean retorted.

You saw his point, but you almost didn’t want to acknowledge it. You couldn’t afford to quit.

“I still need my job, for now,” you said. “But I will start looking for something else, so I can get out as soon as possible. I promise.”

Dean wasn’t happy. Both of you knew it. You also sensed that he wanted to argue more, but was holding back for now. You appreciated that.

You truly didn’t want to get into it anymore with him. You just wanted to close your eyes and try to forget about tonight, knowing that you’d fail.

Dean still held you, with his hands rubbing up and down your back. His touch and his heartbeat soothed you until you managed to fall asleep.

AN: Dean knows, and it ain't pretty. What did you think of the confrontation? Unfortunately, I'm drawing from real events here (not myself).

Next Time:

The mystery of "Azazel" thickens, Dean deals with another tricky fire, and the reader has a realization of her own...

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

Keep Reading: PART 14

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

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Boiling Point #Smoke Eater #Part 13 #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 #benny lafitte #zepskies writes

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januaryembrs · 4 months

Text

HOT UNDER THE HELMET | Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Request: Hi, would you mind writing for Poe Dameron where Poe accidentally injures the reader (whose a mechanic), which is how they meet for the first time. And would you mind using the dialogue prompt “Oh, oh my god! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”?

Description: Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed.

word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: sexism, fire, women in stem facing problems even in space (because ofcourse they do).

main masterlist

As much as you would love to admit times of war made people more benevolent towards each other, you’d be dead wrong. Not only had you been one of the only females in the resistance who knew her way around a wrench, but as it also turned out, not even the risk of dying could pull a males head out of his arse.

You heard snickering before you saw them. The other three mechanics in your squadron crowded around a starfighter, laughing to themselves as they watched you tinker with a leaky engine, your body strewn across a lying board as you worked above yourself, your tools against your foot.

Rolling out from underneath the ship, you paid them no mind as you searched for a screwdriver small enough to fit the flathead you needed removing. Scanning your work area, that you were proud to say you kept much neater than the blaster brained males you shared a space with, your brow furrowed when you saw your equipment nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for something?” You heard Zagg, one of the males, say, and you felt a rage boil up inside you at the smug look on their faces as you regarded them with a sweaty, pissed off expression.

“Where’d you boneheads put it?” You snapped, hauling yourself to your feet as you approached them hotly, your scowl only growing as they burst out laughing, “Real mature. The galaxy is going to bantha fodder, and you guys are hiding my tools,”

“You know, if you need help from someone who knows what they’re doing, you could just ask,” The tallest of the trio, Bran, goaded you, a smarmy smile on his face as he watched your cheeks puff with exhaustion, whirling around to charge up to him, no matter if you did have to turn your neck upwards to confront the pig of a male.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, instead of going after little girls who make you look like rookies,” You hissed, eying up the other two who seemed to exchange a sneer, “Leia chose me herself, handpicked me from the academy. You three nerf herders got through on sheer size alone, and it’s obvious you feel the need to compensate everywhere else possible,”

You sauntered away, back towards the rear of the workshop where spare apparatus was kept, banging around the drawers with a foul mood, muttering about how useless the opposite sex was in times of crisis.

As if he had heard the call of a siren, Poe strolled into the hangar, fully suited with his helmet under his arm, an all too cheery smile on his face for the belly of the beast he was unknowingly heading straight for.

Catching the eye of one of the mechanics, a freakishly tall man that seemed to be chatting to the other two as they stood around an X-wing with a huge hole ripped into the body of it, he watched the worker drop his bitter face and regard him with raised eyebrows when he saw the chirpy pilot approach.

“General,” He nodded respectfully, though there was not a single trace of regard on his face. “You’ve come for your ship?”

“Leia said you had your best guy on it?” He said, almost missing the way the three of them nodded hesitantly, “She said it should be ready today,”

“Right this way, General Dameron,” The shorter, beefy one said, leading him away to a pristine looking starfighter, by far in the best shape he could see it being without it being brand new. He thought he caught a snigger behind him as the mechanic, whose oiled badge read as Kripply, took him over to the ship, “Why don’t you give her a whirl? As you said, we had our very best on the case,”

Poe looked at him with an odd mix of a smile and wariness as he couldn’t miss the devilish excitement the man looked at him with. Had he sat in paint again, he wondered. Finn had had a field day walking him around the entire compound with two white ass cheek marks on his suit, he wouldn’t put it past his co-pilot to try his luck again seeing as Poe had been the one to win at cards last night and had not so graciously rubbed his credits in the man’s face.

“Sure, let’s give this baby a whirl,” He said after a moment, his hair falling all over the place as he shoved his helmet over his thick, sable locks.

Maybe he had a case of bedhead, he wondered. Afterall, he’d not exactly been sober as he’d stumbled back to his room last night, his winnings buying him round after round of smuggled Corellian Whiskey.

He hopped up onto the wing, yanking himself into the cockpit that had been cleaned thoroughly, and he didn’t know why he ever doubted his repair team if this was the condition they left their vehicles in. The engine hummed to life as he flicked the tiny lever, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the oddly floral smell inside the small flight deck, and he wondered if they had gone so far as to spray freshener in there.

You had found a spare tightener that would fit the screw, the last thing that needed fastening up before the engine should be good to run, Leia’s general would be by any second now.

Rolling back under the vehicle, you tuned out the way Zagg cackled over the sound of an engine springing to life, you assumed their own, focusing on the tiny panel you had yet to cover the machinery with to protect the pilot from any stray blaster fire cutting the engine.

But no sooner had you settled on your back beneath the jet, your hand reaching up for the metal sheet, you heard the familiar rumble of oil being fired through the motor, the drums whirling as the ignition started and a short blast of heat hit you in the face.

You blanched as you knew that meant, knew what would come shooting out any second now. Heat always got kicked out of the engine first, the left over energy dishcharged out of the bottom grate. Because then came the fire as it sprung to life.

Your hand came up before you could think through what you were doing, the hard work you were unravelling in the interest of keeping your face intact, your brain from turning to crispy mush, as you yanked the oil pipe from where you’d connected it to the drum, the thick black liquid pouring over your entire body as you stumbled from out beneath the plane, just incase your plan hadn’t worked.

You heard the engine cut, the sound of the cockpit sliding open as someone cursed from above, and you were filled with a new wave of rage as two feet jumped from the wing above you, turning to the three men who watched with entertained chuckles.

“What happened, I thought you said-” Poe had started chewing out the males who didn’t seem to care all too much about the fact the jet had broken down, when he felt two hands shove him from behind, and he spun on his heel with annoyance.

His face dropped entirely when he saw you, covered head to toe in a thick, gunky oil, your nostrils flaring as you glared at him with a heat he had yet to see from a woman before.

Usually women were so receptive to his charming good looks. Not this one it seemed.

“What the kriff was that, man,” You yelled, shoving his chest again with your slimy hands, and he quickly put it together what had been the problem.

“What that me?” His brows flew into his hair line as you looked at him like he’d just learned there were stars in the sky, “Oh, maker! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”

“Oh he’s sorry. Thank goodness he’s sorry,” You threw your arms up, wiping the oil away from your eyes with slippy hands, and Poe had no idea what to say for the best.

Though, he supposed telling you you were by far the prettiest woman he’d seen in moons was not the correct thing to go for, despite the fact it was the first thing he’d thought.

“I’m a decorated pilot, I would never intentionally-” He spluttered, but you had already turned away, heading towards a small work bench where a bunch of old, dirty rags lay, supposedly for hands only.

“You can decorate my ass, general. You’re waiting another week for that plane,” You seethed, barely regarding him over your shoulder.

And he stood there, speechless, because what was he supposed to say. No one had ever spoken down to him like that, not since he’d grown into his good looks and had women falling at his feet to be near him. Certainly not since he’d become leader.

You huffed past him, as he was rooted to the spot, jaw hung slack as you left the workshop, cursing him out clearly to yourself, and it was only then that he turned to the other three males who had watched him get his ass served to him with another round of sniggers. “Who in the maker was she?”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you

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i-cant-sing · 9 months

Note

OH MY GOD, OIKAWA WOULD 💯 SLUT SHAME READER FOR WEARING A SKIRT OR SOMETHING SHORT.

Like he doesn’t care that it’s the uniform

He would!!! But like... he doesn't actually believe in it, especially if he's a platonic yandere. He's only saying it to "tease" you or bug you like most brothers do. He'd never compliment you if you ever looking nice, or if he did, it'd be a backhanded compliment. Something like- "that's a nice dress. Too bad you need to wear heels to compensate for your height! Haha, have fun!"

I can see the yandere fan girls actually dressing you up in one of the cute skirts and doing a proper "girly girl" look on you because you mentioned that you were gonna go out on a date (that Oikawa doesn't know about yet and you made the fan girls promise not to tell him because you wanted to see how things would go. In exchange for singing their praises to Oikawa of course, no good deed is free). And maybe they wanted to show you off to Oikawa, let him be impressed by how they take care of you.

They drag you to the gymnasium where he's practicing with the team.

"Tooru-chan!" They call it to him, while you're standing there, arms linked with theirs so that you can't run off.

Oikawa turns towards you, eyes widening ever so slightly at your appearance. You looked beautiful, absolutely adorable.

He walks closer, the fan girls are bubbling in excitement, you are shifting from one foot to another, nervous under his eyes that never leave yours.

"We dressed Y/n up!" One of the girls said cheerfully. "Do you like it?"

Did we a good job, Tooru? They all wondered silently.

Oikawa smiled, and the girls automatically matched his expression, only to turn to confusion as he suddenly began laughing, belly aching, thigh slapping laugh.

He was laughing at you.

"W-what the hell are you wearing!" He said between his laughs, gasping for air.

"I-" you were at a loss for words, immeadiately turning red at his reaction. Did you look bad?

He stopped laughing, slowing down to chuckles as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Heh, what in the world were you thinking? You looked like someone puked pink on you." He pointed to your skirt and snorted. "And why would you wear a skirt? What are you trying to show off? Your square buff calves? And heels? Wow, I did not know you had chubby ankles." Your eyes welled up with tears, threatening to spill. And the fan girls could sense your humiliation, so they tried to intervene.

The leader of the fan club spoke up. "Tooru, stop joking around. She looks beautiful and you-"

"Was I taking to you?" He cut her off swiftly, glaring at her.

Oikawa walked closer to you until he was right in front of you. He bended his knees a little so he could be face to face with you. His eyes bore into your teary ones and Oikawa didn't smile as his thumb came up to smear the gloss off your lips.

"Pink gloss? Really? You look like an idiot. Change. Now." That was all it took for your tears to start falling as you ran out of the gymnasium.

Oikawa only stared at the gymnasium door that you had just ran out of, as he spoke to fan girls, but to no one in particular.

"Never dress her up like that again. She looked like a slut." He didn't need to say "or else", his fans already knew of the deadly consequences. As he returned to his practice, the girls left the gymnasium, some went to console you, while others went to their room to silently ponder upon your outfit that Oikawa deemed "slutty".

Especially because all of them dressed up like that.

So was it okay for them to look "slutty"? Or did Oikawa not like their style too?

While they went over a existential crisis over their wardrobe, Oikawa was being scolded by Iwazumi for what he said to you. Oikawa didn't bother explaining himself, because he knew what he did was right.

You did not look slutty, but if you showed your skin like that, other guys will get the wrong idea. He knows "locker room talk" the guys have, what they reduce girls to. And he'd rather you he single and insecure by his side eh were he can protect you, than look available and be hurt and heartbroken a million times worse by some scum bag, all while you're away from him.

What Oikawa didn't see was you leaving the house dressed in your comfy clothes (the girls made you change into the sweats that Oikawa had gotten for you, still trying to win his favour) and meeting your date, who proceded to hang his jacket around you when the wind picked up.

The jacket had his name on it.

USHIMJIMA.

Wonder what would cause Oikawa to have an aneurysm first? The Shiratorizawa jacket that engulfs your body? The picture of you dating his arch nemesis? Or the way Ushijima who towers over you, bends down to kiss you?

My money is on "Ushijima is now a yandere for you and you're the first and last girl he'll ever date and Oikawa will have to pry you from his cold dead arms before he'll let you go."

#yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyu x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yanderes #yandere platonic

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matchavellichor · 11 months

Note

Omg ok I have an omi request again ❤ I haven't seen anyone write a scenario like this yet, and it's very appealing to me for some reason.

Ominis becomes a school prefect intentionally. He's naturally a night owl and an insomniac anyway, so it gives him a productive excuse to stay up late, but also he wants access to the relaxing prefect bathroom he always heard about.

After a while though, the power goes to his head a bit. He starts flexing his authority over people he doesn't like. (Duncan hobhouse) Lol. He often catches Sebastian, or mc, or both sneaking about, too. After a lecture or two, he of course, let's them get away with it. Eventually omi gets fed up with mc sneaking out and talks mc into paying him back for often turning a blind eye (pun intended) in the form of a blowy and/or other such activities in the prefect bathroom. 😏

-S

A.N: I LOVE PREFECT OMINIS ugh it works so well w him. ty for the request!! enjoy some gratuitous dominis smut bc i just can't resist

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC - NSFW - 2.4k words - ao3

Tags: Prefect Ominis, Dominis, Praise Kink, Oral m!Receiving, Dub Con If You Squint

Summary: Ominis expects compensation after bailing you out of trouble yet again. Such compensation involving some very indecent behavior on your knees on the floor of the prefect's bathroom.

“You’re letting this prefect thing get to your head, mate.”

Ominis rolled his eyes, setting down the shiny, silver prefect’s badge he was polishing for the tenth time that day. He pinned the badge proudly to the front of his robes, shooting Sebastian an innocent shrug. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’re barely even sleeping! You spend all your time patrolling the halls at night like a madman.”

Ominis scoffed. “With great power comes great responsibility, Sebastian. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“See what I mean?” Sebastian waved a hand at the blonde and looked to his other friend for help. “He thinks he’s bloody Caesar. Just last week I saw him deducting ten points from Ravenclaw because Hobhouse was breathing too loud.”

Ominis rolled his eyes. “He was disturbing the peace.”

“Whose peace? He was alone!”

“Mine. I was passing by and my peace was disturbed.”

“Lay off him, Sebastian,” she chided, deeply amused. “Frankly, I think it’s good for him. If he weren’t spending his time controlling others, he’d be spending his time controlling us. Plus, are you going to pretend you don’t take advantage of his good will? No midnight soirées in the prefect’s bathroom?”

“What midnight soirées in the prefect’s bathroom?” Ominis turned to Sebastian with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “I certainly wasn’t aware of this.”

Sebastian chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Have I ever told you how dear of a friend you are to me, Ominis?”

“It appears Sebastian isn’t the only one taking advantage of my good will, hm?”

She startles, looking up to find a stern looking Ominis standing over the tub, arms crossed over his chest, foot tapping impatiently.

“Shit, Christ, Ominis — I’m naked, do you mind?”

Ominis rolls his eyes, his patience at a breaking point. “Oh, how dare I, next time I’ll close my eyes.”

He summons a towel and holds it out for her as she steps out of the water. She takes it, murmuring a sheepish thanks, dripping droplets onto the slate gray of his slacks as she tries to dry herself off amidst the impending scolding.

He huffs with impatience, casting a drying charm over her and summoning her discarded clothes to shove into her hands. His hands brush briefly over the exposed section of her midriff and she has to suppress a squeak. She quickly pulls her blouse over her head to spare herself from any further mortification.

His jaw works as he waits for her to finish dressing, dragonhide oxfords tapping against the marble tiles. “I had to confundo not one, but two prefects who were on their way over here to investigate ‘strange noises’, are you aware of that? Do you realize how much trouble you could’ve gotten in? This is getting ridiculous, I can’t keep—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know, okay! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” She interrupts his angry spiel, hands raised defensively.

“Will you? It’s funny, that’s the same thing you said the last twenty times I’ve bailed you out.”

“I mean it, anything you want, Ominis,” she pleads, already trying to plan an escape route from the bathroom. “I owe you big time.”

She tries to step around him but he blocks her before she can get away, eyes narrowing. “Yes. You do.”

She sighs, shoulders sinking in reluctant acceptance. “Fine. Name your price.”

He scoffs. “I don’t need your money.”

“Then what do you want?”

His hands find purchase on the granite countertop on either side of her, effectively caging her in. “Anything?”

She nods fervently. “Anything.”

“Alright then,” an amused smile pulls at his lips, almost predatory in nature.

She has an inkling of a feeling that maybe she’s made a grave mistake. Knowing Ominis, he’ll make her write a hundred lines, or read Hogwarts: A History for the thousandth time. What comes out of his mouth however, is probably the last thing she’d ever expect.

“Get on your knees.”

She sputters. “Get on my…I’m sorry— what?”

“What was unclear?”

She gapes at him. “You’re…serious?”

He leans in to her, her body still boxed in between his arms. She instinctively leans back, but her back only presses further into the cold granite. His breath smells like spearmint. “You said anything, didn’t you?”

Several emotions cycle through her — utter shock, mild offense, and then deep fascination. She isn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but she’s certainly taken by surprise that someone as proper and austere as Ominis would be asking for such debauchery —and in the prefect’s bathroom, no less.

Just a few weeks ago Sebastian was trying to convince her Ominis didn’t even wank.

The deep intrigue she feels, coupled with the heat that courses through her from the commanding, aristocratic lilt of his voice, fixes this urgent, persistent tug just behind her navel that has her wanting to obey his every word.

She can’t deny she also feels an urgent, persistent desire to leave him in shambles.

Giving into both urges, she huffs her acceptance. “Fine.”

She wastes no time in sinking to her knees, her hands immediately going to the waistband of his trousers, tugging at the buckle of his belt. Before she can even get the leather through the first loop however, he lays his hands over hers and stops her.

She looks up at him confused, and her cheeks burn red as she prepares herself for humiliation. Maybe she misinterpreted what he wanted, maybe he was simply joking. Instead, he guides her hand to palm at where she can feel him already achingly hard through his trousers. She gasps.

“Slow,” he murmurs, as if he wants to savor it, drag it out as long as possible. “There’s no rush, angel.”

She hesitates for a moment before she obliges, rubbing slowly up and down his length through the linen. He lets out a contented sigh. “Just like that, that’s it. Nice and gentle, baby.”

She feels herself getting worked up herself as she looks up at him through her lashes, studying him intently. The terms of endearments rolling off his tongue, the way his brows knit together, the soft part of his lips as his breathing grows heavy. It’s enough to make a wetness begin to pool in her knickers.

She squeezes her thighs together where her knees are pressed to the cool tile of the bathroom floor and grows even more determined to ruin him.

“Can I touch you?” she just about begs. “Please?”

Ominis stifles a groan at her pleading, his own composure faltering. He brushes a thumb over her bottom lip, probing at the wet, spit-sticky seam, reveling in the softness.

She parts her lips to let him inside and this time he can’t suppress the moan that slips from the back of his throat. She feels so deliciously warm and wet, her plush lips wrapped around his thumb, so eager to please.

“Is this where you want me, baby?”

She nods, little pink tongue swirling around the pad of his finger, and he feels himself throb in his pants.

He pulls his thumb out of her mouth, wiping it messily on her cheek as he grabs her chin to tilt her face up for him. He can’t help himself when he leans down to press a chaste kiss to her lips, just enough to satisfy his aching desire to taste her.

He rights himself and begins to pull his trousers down his thighs, unable to contain himself any longer. She watches, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in anticipation, as he unsheathes himself. He’s so much bigger than she would’ve imagined.

He brings a hand to pet soothingly at her hair, tucking stray strands behind her ear as he waits for her to touch him, sensing her hesitations. She looks up at him and can’t help but find it a bit endearing the way he looks so terribly fond.

“Kiss it, angel,” he murmurs encouragingly. “Go on.”

She obeys, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just under the tip. He hums in approval.

“There you go,” he coos, fingers carding gently through her hair to collect the silky strands in his hands. “You’re doing so well.”

She dips her tongue out to lick tentatively, lapping soft kitten strokes around where she knows he’ll be receptive to. She revels in the way his lips part in a gasp, where he caresses her almost as if in adoration.

“Gorgeous,” he sighs, breathy. “You’re so perfect.”

She preens under the praise, licking a long stripe down his shaft, eliciting a hiss from him from the sensation. She does it again, determined to pull more noises from his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his self-restraint crumbling. He hooks a thumb in her mouth, pulling her jaw open. “Open your mouth.”

She doesn’t have much choice, his fingers in her mouth ensuring that. “Stick your tongue out for me, princess,” he hums his approval when she obeys. “Just like that, such a good girl.”

Drool dribbles down her chin where he keeps her mouth pried open, though she doesn’t mind. He places the head of his cock on her tongue, barely inside the warm confines of her mouth. He curses under his breath when he finally pushes more of himself inside, achingly slow, just enough to the point where it’s still comfortable for her to take.

He takes his fingers out of her mouth and brushes a wet thumb over the ridge of her cheekbone, doting and gentle. “Suck, baby.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice.

She hollows her cheeks around him, his fingers tightening where they’re still tangled in her hair. She instinctively sinks down on more of him, choking when he reaches the back of her throat.

“Fuck, angel, slow,” he hisses, tugging her head back with his hand fisted in her hair so she can breathe. “I won’t last long like this.”

She smiles to herself, satisfied by the flushed appearance of his cheeks, the faint swashes of pink creeping up from under the collar of his oxford when she looks up at him. He looks so disheveled, such a stark contrast to his normal prim and proper exterior, and she’s deeply pleased with her ability to turn him into such a mess.

She pushes herself down on him again, despite the pinprick of tears at the corners of her eyes, despite the dull sting of where his hand is still fisted in her hair. She presses further until her nose is buried in the coarse, blonde hairs dotting his pelvis and he’s grunting an array of expletives under his breath.

He doesn’t pull her off him this time, instead holding her pressed down to his base until her nails are scratching red marks down the pale porcelain skin on his thighs. He hushes her whines. “Breathe through your nose, baby, you can take it — that’s it.”

He eases his hips back slowly, before pushing back in just as patiently— sharp, shallow thrusts at first, conscious enough to let her adjust to the intrusion. She whimpers around his length, the noise tearing a groan from him.

She wills herself to relax her throat, to breathe through her nose just as he asked, and only then does he pick up his pace, fucking her mouth in earnest with her hair wrapped around his fist.

“Wanted to fuck your pretty little mouth for so long,” he grunts, voice hoarse, his breath coming out in hot, heavy pants everytime he hits the back of her throat. “Gods, you have no idea. You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

She moans from the praise, the vibrations making his jaw fall slack, pushing him right up to that edge of bliss.

“Fuck, I’m so close. Can I come in your mouth, angel? Please?”

She nods as best as she can with his cock still thrusting into her mouth, hums her approval, until she feels his hips begin to stutter, his fingers tightening around her hair. She can feel the way his entire body tenses, so close to release she can taste it on her tongue.

She ignores the sting of tears as they carve a path down her cheeks, pushing herself down on his length until he’s spilling down her throat with a strangled groan, her name falling over and over again from his lips like a prayer.

“Swallow it, baby— fuck, yes, all of it,” he pants as if she has a choice, as if he isn’t pumping himself straight down her throat.

He pulls out of her with a shudder, his chest heaving, his cheeks a bright hue of red from overexertion. He sinks to his knees before either of them can even begin to regain some semblance of composure, crashing his lips to hers and stealing the little oxygen she managed to get into her lungs. He moans when he tastes himself on her tongue.

“You’re a dream,” he murmurs, thumb swiping at the wetness on her cheeks, pressing kisses to her temple. “You know that, don’t you?”

She smiles from the praise, and he smiles back, huffing a soft, incredulous laugh against her lips as he collects her in his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck as he kisses her, slow and gentle, mindful of the dull ache in her jaw, the swollen tenderness on her lips.

He lifts her up and sets her on the bathroom countertop, the cold granite making her gasp as soon it comes in contact with her thighs. He hitches up her skirt to her waist, trailing kisses down her neck, lower and lower, until he’s hovering over the bare skin of her navel where her blouse has been rucked up as well by his impatient hands.

He plants wet, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive flesh there, moving down and nosing at her hipbone as if he can’t get enough of the feel of her skin.

She tries to close her legs, but he’s already positioned between them before she can try to stop him. “What are you doing?”

His breath is warm against the inside of her thighs. “Returning the favor.”

“But the whole point of me having done…that was to return you a favor,” she protests, fingers curling into his robes to try to tug him up.

“Oh well,” he sighs, the slightest, amused curl of his lips as his mouth hovers over her clothed core. He hooks a finger into her knickers and tugs it aside, making her squirm. “I guess we’ll just have to do this again until the debt is settled, hm?”

#ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #sebastian sallow

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horrorisunknowntoyou · 1 year

Text

Watching From The Sidelines P.3

[SAGAU X SHAPESHIFTER READER]

Synopsis: The game begins! You travel all over Teyvat, as your followers try so hard to follow your tracks. But your having too much fun talking to the locals, helping those in need and drinking!

If they can catch you, you will become their God, if not well, then they'll have to continue playing the game!

A/n: mentioned of flirting with women and men. And slight y/n x zhongli.

Tag List:

@randomnatics @the-2nd-random-kid @smokey-cat @moosieman12345 @nexylaza @stellakito @creation-magician @longppanoodle @angelkazusstuff @apple-ai @guess-i-die @jcrml @byakuren100 @moraxsimp69 @iruiji @ll-nty77 @yuyuzi-ling

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

All the maids and house keepers were let go, but were given a large bag of mora in compensation. They were allowed to take anything they want from the manor, you were going to sell it as you had no need of it.

which all is left is you and this empty house.

Tick...Tick....Tick.....

You tapped your foot against the floor, your legs crossed sitting on an loafy chair besides a window. You had a golden pocket watch in your hand checking every minute.

"They should be here in one...two... three..."

Bang

You closed the pocket watch swiftly, placing it inside your coat pocket. Patting your chest as you hold your hands together listening the door be swinged open.

It was obvious at this open your the creator, your golden eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. Monsters and enemies not bothered by your presence. It's clear what your identity is. Especially the death of the imposter. The golden eyes they had, have transferred to you much to your displeasure.

You took a sip from a glass of champagne you poured for yourself.

Your "entourage" soon appeared Infront of you, clearly disheveled and worried. They were on their knees grasping at straws, panting like the dogs they are.

Before they could even speak you rose your hand to silence them.

"How about we play a little game...you want me to be your God. Correct? So..." You stood up watching their eyes follow you, as you make way to window hitting the notch open. " If you win this game, I'll be your God. "

They looked at each other confused.

"My Grace, our creator what game are you suggesting?" Zhongli asked.

You hummed, " A game of cat and mouse. To play a game, there must be rules. Here are mine."

* 1. No unlawful killing of innocents, even if they help me don't hurt them. That includes yourselves as well

* 2. The form I am in now will be my main one, only to make it fair for you all. However I'll still use my abilities to my advantage. Including tools.

* 3. All of you are against me and me alone. However to make it fun I'll have sometimes a "spy" on your side. A random chosen person who will give me info.

"As I stated earlier if you catch me, I'll be your God and do whatever you want me to do."

The entourage looked at each other and nod in approval.

Venti looked at you in admiration, " We agree to our Creator's rules! It's obvious this is a test for us."

Zhongli agrees with it, "Our Creator is testing our faith after our failure to noticed the imposter. We don't deserve such mercy."

You kinda stood their like "huh?" As Ei nod to the other two. " We will play our Creator's game and prove our devote loyalties."

You smiled at them, " recruit whoever you wish, there no time limit. " You walked over to the mirror.

"THE GAME STARTS IN 1...2...3! GO!" You immediately jumped out of the window, throwing a confetti bomb at them to disorient them. Gold confetti flying everywhere with dust of glitter and smoke.

The acolytes cover their mouth, shielding their eyes as Venti clear the air.

" CAPTURE THE CREATOR NO MATTER WHAT!" zhongli yells out , pointing towards the window.

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

You were running, you didn't know where but you just ran. You can practically feel your heart hitting against your chest, the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

God, you never felt more alive then now, this doesn't compare to stressing over exams or phone calls to doctors or setting up your college funds. Hell, not even when you transported to this world as their God.

It was euphoric.

You were practically leaping around in joy.

How can those y/n's in those SAGAU fics be so foolish. You came from the same background as those fics, but why was the world wrapped around your finger?

The strongest people in all of genshin are chasing you! But not to mercilessly kill you, but instead a game you instigated.

A game...how funny is that?

No longer am binded to an execution but game.

How silly.

You smirked at the thought of it, you took off your sun glasses placing it away as you hear the acolytes near by. You hid behind a tree shape shifting into a bird on a branch. Watching them pass by you with determination In their eyes.

Expect one.

Aether.

He spotted you, but he didn't mention it to the others. As they ran into different directions all around Teryet he stayed behind.

You shape shifted back to m/n, "Hello Aether."

He blushed looking at you in shock, " you know my name?" You simply nodded.

"Your the traveller how could I not? So Aether do you wish to be my first spy? "

He nodded almost immediately, " please! I would be honored. "

You hummed, "good, remember not the tell the others. But I have heard alot from you, so you'll be of great use to me." You pull something from your pocket placing it on his hand.

" a gift. " You mumbles as you look at him who's completely awe struck.

" your so much kinder then the imposter! They never did anything like this to me!" He says as you raised an eyebrow in intrigued.

"Is that so?... Tell me more. "

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

Aether set a blanket down for you to sit on as he explained about the imposter. Mostly just venting out his frustrations as you listen in intrigued.

Saying that, they were so cruel and give no rewards always complaining for things to be done. Always in humane and never helped. They were greedy and power hungry. He just kept going and going.

Honestly, thank the gods the imposter was dead because how Aether explains it, you would have killed them yourself.

How dare they use your face to be cruel to the undeserving, how dare they make the weak and poor feel vulnerable.

How dare they disgrace YOUR name.

It disgusted you.

You thank him for the info but he shook his head, " I don't deserve such words I just did as you told. " You just sighed..

" of course, of course. You must return to the others or they might get suspicious of your absence. I'll call you when needed. Also tell your sister and Paimon I said hello. "

He nodded excitedly.

You stood up and nodded at him in approval as disappeared in a dust of gold confetti.

Aether sat there blushing, holding the gift dearly to him , so excited to be the Creator's first spy and vessel.

He couldn't be any more happier.

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

Days past

Your acolytes were taking this game very seriously.

But you? Oh you were relaxing in a random tavern, drinking a glass. Flirting with some of the women and men in the bar.

If they saw you, they would definitely be jealous.

You laughed at their jokes, as they melt under the touch of your gloved hands.

Of course just when you had the person wrapped around your finger you Venti immediately showed up. You kissed on top of the strangers hand, " sorry to cut it short but I most go. " You immediately dodged his attack, sliding under him and bolted out the door.

" Your Grace come back!" You hear faintly behind you.

Venti was still on you before Xiao came out of nowhere with his weapon.

"your getting faster!" You said as you grabbed onto a railing above you. With your agility, you swing up onto the roof and leaped onto the other building roof.

You stick your tongue out at them teasing them as you fled away.

Xiao sighs, shaking his head as Venti whines , stomping his foot.

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

You were helping a child down a tree, smiling at them happily playing with them. Gently setting them down, giving them a lollipop.

"Thank you mister!/miss!" The child's says smiling running off to their mother.

You waved bye, before being jumped by lumine and Paimon, immediately dropping to the floor dodging their attack. You immediately kick yourself up , brushing dirt off your coat.

Paimon flying towards you like a missile, but you immediately distracted her with candy.

She immediately took the bait and you shape shifted as a bird and flew away all giddy as lumine and Paimon argued over her taking the candy.

"How can I decline!" Paimon pouted

Lumine groans in defeat, " we were so close! "

It was cute to watch.

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

You chugged down another glass, laughing loudly in a party your invited to. It was dark and everyone was dancing. Attention on you as you smiled hiding behind a fan, after all you were a rich business man.

After all what's the harm I'm having fun?

You talked to other business partners and people you knew. Hell, you even met up with your assistant and she told you how things are going along. You told her you were busy with external affairs and will make her in charge and raise her salary and holidays off.

She agreed to it, thankful with the benefits she was given. " Thank you sir/ma'am, I can't thank you enough for the generosity you given me. "

" of course, I wouldn't be as successful without your help."

" I'm honored you think so." She smiles.

"go have fun, I have things to do, go enjoy yourself." You said smiling, gesturing her to talk to others.

" of course, thank you sir. " She says leaving, as you leaned against a table.

You pulled out your pocket watch, looking at the time as you step outside. Climbing on top of the roof, starring onto the night sky, looking at the moon.

You heard light footsteps behind you.

You turn around and smile seeing zhongli standing there.

You chuckled, as zhongli has his weapon in hand, he swung it at you, but you catch it. Tossing it aside, wrapping your arm around his waist pulling him close, the other hand on his hand.

"Y-Your Grace?!" He fumbled.

You can tell he's overwhelmed by this, as you hum to the tune played below. Spinning him around in the moonlight, bowing him down. He practically melts to your touch, collapsing on to his knees. You smirked as you gently set him down.

"i-i...uh..."

You blew him a kiss before teleporting away.

He just sat there dumbfounded and flustered.

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

Besides being chased by the most powerful people in genshin. You like wandering around, you didn't need to sleep or eat a lot so it wasn't much of a issue. You liked to explore the world, seeing the shops and stores. Talking with the locals and hanging out with them, everyday was something new. You weren't stuck in some temple being worshipped. Bored out of your mind.

No, you were experiencing Teyvat as a whole. You saw it yourself with your own eyes instead of those of an acolyte.

You are witnessing it first hand the issues and solving them on your own.

Because if you were called as their God , you wouldn't have a chance to do something like this.

It was nice to do everything independently.

You got to do small thoughtless things.

Like giving money to the poor.

Giving sweets and toys to children.

Helping the elderly and unfortunate.

Giving flowers to women and men.

Doing small errands

Going on adventures.

Hanging out with locals.

Getting invited to parties.

The list goes on, and of course with your money, you can spend it luxuriously if needed. As your still running your businesses and going to meetings and such. Just because your traveling doesn't mean you stopped working.

But you know, eventually the acolytes will turn it up a notch and add more people into this game. The question is when. Because so far you had an idea what they are doing due to Aether's spy work.

So they are definitely planning something, but it depends on what.

Time will only tell.

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

Bonus!

WFTS y/n's Playlist (slightly fem leaning)

UPSAHL - People I Don't Like

Gwen Stefani - Rich Girl

Yung Gravy - Betty

Abba - Money, Money, Money

Destiny's Child - Bills, Bills, Bills

Lady Gaga - Fashion

Macklemore & Ryan Lewis - Thrift Shop

Flo Rida - Right Round

Lady Gaga - Telephone

Bruno Mars - That's What I Like

WFTS y/n is such a chaotic person lmao.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin self aware au #genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau x reader #sagau genshin #sagau cult au #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin imposter au #genshin impact self aware #genshin x you

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bonefall · 5 months

Note

Hi! How would you draw a tool-evolved cat paw?

Aeons ago I wrote some speculative biology thoughts on what a tool-focused cat would begin to look like, and mentioned the way that a caw's paw might evolve. I can try to draw it out as a sketch; but fair warning that I put my art style points into cartoony anime stuff SO you're not gonna get a realistic drawing lmao

Evolution doesn't "think." It's many changes over generations that snowball into bigger ones. So I tried to look at WHAT exactly is happening between an animal with less sophisticated tool use (chimp) and one that COMPLETELY relies on tools (human) to predict where the cat's paw would end up in a few thousand generations.

Please note! My paw would still be a "link" between the ancestor, and something even more reliant on tool use. This proposed species would still be 100% capable of doing what the cats in-canon do, like hunt alone. It's for a feline species that is tool-ADAPTED, not tool-RELIANT.

(In that way, it's more comparable to, say, a lemur and a chimp. But lemur palm refs were hard to find and I did this quick because I've already thought about it.)

This paw would exist in-tandem with a "tool tooth;" A V-shaped gap in the jawline that a single fang would nestle into. Early tool-using felines would likely use their mouth to "break" or "shear" their crafts, leading to broken teeth that would make them less successful. So there would be a lot of evolutionary pressure to have better, stronger teeth.

Evolution doesn't do "one thing at a time," so if you happened to port yourself into a group of these cats and watch them craft stuff, you'd see them using their mouths as well as their paws!

Finger Size + Tool Claw

When you see real cats batting stuff around and manipulating things, and when you look at canon where they like to "hook things on a claw," it's usually the index "finger" they favor. In fact, they do a LOT of "poking," even when a cat bats at something they seem to mostly explore with the tip of their paw.

So I figure that would actually be a big difference between this species and humans.

Unlike us, who usually have our middle finger as the longest (though there are exceptions) so we can "stabilize" the things we grab, I'd give these guys a "Tool Claw" which is not involved in grappling at all. It's longer, more deeply grooved, but also more fragile than the "hunting" claws.

When at rest, the Tool Claw would stick out from the rest of the foot, straight upwards. The fur is able to "sheathe" the other three, but the index's would be too long to be fully hidden.

Because one of those fingers is now mostly taken out of combat, the pinkie would probably thicken up to compensate. Another difference from the human hand. I can imagine that if the trend continues, they might end up supporting their full frontal weight on the pinkie pad to free up the other fingers for tool use.

(But evolution's not always predictable! They might end up becoming more "back heavy" like raccoons, or rely on the invention of shoe/gloves, or just abandon silent hunting all together to become tool-reliant.)

Paw Pad Changes

Cats use the pads on their paws to move silently. As long as the species is relying on silently stalking prey, they will need to have these pads in contact with the ground to be good hunters.

So instead of the digital pads sliding down to create the "top" of the palm, I figured the metacarpal pad would split in two. So now there's a snug, dipped "shape" with which they could nestle an object into as they work with it, but also there is ALWAYS still pad in contact with the ground.

The amount of fur in-between the bottom (metacarpal) and top (supercarpal) pads probably just depends on culture and genetics. It wouldn't really have enough of an impact on the paw to be selected for to be furry or hairless.

I can imagine some groups being weird about it and thinking it should be shaved or braided or something, lmao. Or cats who live in muddy environments clipping it for hygiene reasons.

#Speculative Biology #bone babble #but btw no i dont use these in my bb drawings.#this is just for fun.#BB isn't really a spec bio project.#And also YES this is free to use for anything go nuts

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hxltic · 1 year

Text

“I like when you sit it on me, dick in yo guts while i’m kissin yo feet.”

Sakusa’s rough, large hands grip the plush of your thighs to drag you down to him. Portions of the sweat-drenched bed sheets roll up under your back. With a sultry moan at the sudden adjustment inside of you and the thought of how easy carrying your body weight for him was, your chest rebounds at the swift movement just as it does with every other mind-swelling thrust. You blink open your eyes to the entirety of him.

Sakusa carved his body so well that it was a standing competitor to a Greek statue somewhere. The length of his dark hair only adds to it. Sharp angles everywhere, so perfect and pristine—if you could paint well enough to do him justice you would. The tan of his skin was adulterated with red by any scratches or marks you released onto him.

Under the man’s belly button splayed groomed, dark hair that bled to where you two were connected. In and out he went, thick length stretching you out so well the skin under your belly was rounded to compensate.

Every thrust was harsh as if a demand, but sweet. Like a glowing winter day, bright enough to give sunburn with the ground littered in white, but cold enough to nip at your skin and cause your body to shiver. Just as he did. Marks of evidence dotted you, and you can’t deny that the way he brought his hand to palm over your abdomen and thumb to roll over your clit expertly made neurons in your brain seemingly explode.

He gathered the roll of your right ankle in the other hand, pulling it up towards him, fully extending your legs to sway on either side of his shoulders, encased by his arms. He made it a note to keep them apart; he’d hate to cover your alluring, tear-stained, rosy face. Having just taken you to get your nails done, sitting through the process only to have his card handed to the kind lady at the end, the wait was well worth it. You gawked at your new matching set.

With that being said, he was so tempted to worship those pretty pink toes of yours. It didn’t help your feet had a mind of their own, flexing and pointing every now and then from him hitting the cushiony area every time that had you screaming his name.

Now that he applied light pressure to your abdomen over the bulge he provided, now that the most fleshy part of his thumb rolled over your swollen nub quickly, and now that his puffy lips found way to kiss from the ball of your foot to the arch, you were breaking down and tightening below him. Trust, he could feel it.

©️ hxltic

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daevite · 10 months

Text

still disabled + far too broke lol

a'ight so wheelchair thing def still not gonna happen anytime soon (funny that me having to walk to campus nearly led to me getting a foot injury and my cane doesn't help lol) bc i am just entirely too broke and don't get enough to compensate for that so i give up again. i had to use those funds to pay for food and some other stuff since i haven't gotten a paycheck in like 3 weeks after my car broke down and took forever to get fixed. but i'm overdrafted again, have some expenses coming up, and i don't think i'll get my first paycheck with this new job until next week so i would really appreciate some help getting me out of the negatives and to hold me over until then.

i'm a mentally and physically disabled (autism, ADHD, cPTSD, POTS, gHSD/hEDS, congenital muscle disorder, mostly undx'd and untreated, etc.) college student still financially reliant on my abusers (who can't give me money rn) and who's been struggling immensely due to job stuff and expenses that keep coming up and a ton of my clothes just got ruined and i need to get meds refilled and generally i just need help with covering some basic stuff until the paychecks from this job start coming in.

this isn't an emergency so i would prefer it if those who potentially contribute would refrain from doing so if they're also financially struggling! thank you.

p-treon.com/ithellovik

ko-fi.com/sardonicdoll

p-ypal.me/sardonicdoll

c-shapp: $IthelLovik

v-nmo: @IthelLovik

#actuallyautistic #actually adhd #actually disabled #chronic illness #cripple punk #it speaks #d

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slvttyplum · 6 months

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⋆｡° ✮ My Little Dancer | Suguru Geto

ballerina reader x grundy boyfriend suguru

y’all i know nothing about the art so take this with a grain of salt.

“1, 2, 3, 4.”

The set of twelve is repeating in your mind with each spin as your foot goes up and spins on the hard wood floor.

"Again, you got it."

Those words echoed in your mind as the flat of the shoe went up and down.

“again.” The word echoed in your mind and flashed in front of you. your arms out and open, swaying, making an “o” shape.

“again… faster.” Those words practically shouted at you. You took your other foot and slid it over, spinning like before but even faster.

“1, 2, 3, 4,... 5, fuck.” Your spinning delayed and eventually stopped; you cursed yourself for missing the rep again.

“You’re doing good.” You quickly turn, and your boyfriend is in the doorway with his arms in front of him, his arms crossed.

You mutter an "oh," putting your hand on your forehead and quietly walking towards him.

“You scared me; I didn’t tell you to come today.” You wrap your arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest.

He wraps one around your waist and the other behind your head, caressing it, leaning down, and placing a kiss on it.

"I wanted to see how you were doing; I missed you.” his thumb brushing over the same spot, his hand coming down to cup your jaw.

He slides his thumb over your chin repeatedly before tilting your head up and looking into your eyes.

He smiles and leans down, placing a kiss on your lips. His lips are cold but soft, and his breath is warm.

“that’s sweet. I missed you too.” The last words are muttered between the pecks he’s placing on your lips.

His hand is rubbing over your waist, and his thumb is still rubbing over your chin. His lips are approaching your neck while his gaze is still locked on yours.

“Here?” he whispers, almost too quiet.

You were craving him, so you didn’t protest. You nodded your head, taking your arms from around his waist and wrapping them around his neck.

He smiles, diving into you, cupping your cheek, and holding a strong grip on your waist.

He kisses you, one peck after the other, before fully indulging in your taste.

He leans into you, walking into you while you walk backwards. He takes one of his hands and puts it behind him, closing and locking the door.

He wraps his arm back around your waist, licking your lip to let him in. You open your mouth a little, teasing him.

Suguru smiles, sticking his tongue in through the small space he was given. You fully open your mouth, sliding your tongue over his.

"Cigs," you whisper out, going back to slide your tongue over his. He lets out a muffled “hm?” before moving his mouth in rhythm with yours.

He was eager and hungry for you.

He takes his hand off your cheek, sticking it to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Do you need these?” He whispers out, still squeezing your ass and kissing your jaw, then your neck.

You giggle, pulling away and looking him in the eyes again. “Kinda yeah. If you want to rip em you have to compensate, yeah?"

He laughs into your neck, sliding his other hand down to your ass and squeezing your other cheek.

"Deal," he says before sliding his tongue over a spot on your neck and pushing his lips over sucking.

A moan erupts from your lips, and you throw your head back, giving him more access. His tongue licks over your sensitive spot again, making you shiver.

He keeps walking forward, causing you to move backwards, turning, and he’s walking you into the barre.

His hands are on it, on opposite sides of you, looking down at you with eager and ready eyes.

“Show me some moves," he mutters, his voice still in a nice, warm whisper. Your cheeks heat up, and you smile, propping up off of it and walking into his chest.

“Give me a little space.” He obeys you, giving you enough room to do what you want. You place one hand on the bar, slowly bringing your other arm up.

You point your right foot out and the other in the same position, going up and down quickly and then at a steady pace.

You slowly lift one leg all the way up in the sky, your hand on the bar giving you balance.

Suguru slowly walks up to you, placing his hand on the leg in the air and the other on his bulge.

"Mhm, I like that.” He says taking one hand off his bulge and the other off your leg, ripping your tights.

Your leg almost comes down from you being startled, but his hand quickly goes up to hold you sturdy.

“My little ballerina knows how to hold her stance, hm?” his hand gripping over your leg and his other going to unzip his pants.

Butterflies into your stomach and a small grin is plastered on your face; a little practice never hurts.

He hesitates about pulling out his length and goes to unbutton his jeans, then pulls it out.

He slides his briefs down a little before pulling his dick out. He looks at your heat, then at you.

Taking his finger and looping it between the open space by your thigh and the side of your panties moving them to the side.

“Hold your leg for me.” He takes his hand off, grabbing his dick, and slowly stepping forward, lining up with your entrance.

You knew what he meant; he didn’t want you to actually hold your leg up with your hand but with your strength, and that you did.

Before he puts himself in, he slides his ring finger in to see if you’re wet enough. You flinch from the coldness of his ring and contact.

You muffle a moan as he slides a finger out and replaces it with his veiny length. Your jaw clenches, and the grip you have on the bar tightens.

“Keep holding it," he whispers, leaning closer to your ear, giving it a small peck, giving it multiples before moving to your jaw.

He kisses your jaw a couple of times before looking up at your foot and smiling as he slides out, then back into you.

“pointed… You’re an expert, huh?” His voice catches your attention, and you look up at your foot and smile.

“forced habit," you say, moving it a couple of times before returning your gaze to his.

He looks back down into your eyes, sliding out, then into you with more force, your posture slouching.

The pleasure is getting sent into all your weak spots, and he knows it. He thrusts into you again and again and again.

The last thrust sends you over the edge, your grip tightening around the bar even more.

“good girl. Keep holding it," he whispers, grunting shortly after, thrusting again.

"Fuck," you mutter, gritting your teeth from the overwhelming pleasure boiling inside of you.

It felt like warm butterflies were swarming your stomach. The way he looked at you, licking his lips, his dark eyes staring into you, made you feel so good.

You place your other hand on his shoulder for grip. Your body is bent in a position some would find uncomfortable, but the strain on your leg and the side of your body only made you feel better.

"Mmm, right there, Suguru." You moan out, your fingers digging into his flesh as his dick curled up, lightly touching your sweet spot.

You needed more.

His eyes were on you the entire time—not on the mirror in front of him, not on your leg, just your gorgeous face.

His hips slid into you again, over and over again, lightly tapping the same spot.

“If you want me to go dipper... Just tell me; use your words.” Your eyes got slightly bigger but returned to their regular state.

You nod, moaning, "Deeper, Suguru." The way you softly muttered his name with a plea only made it harder.

He was pulsing inside of you, your walls clamping and tightening around him. His pulsing gave you a pleasurable vibration.

You throw your head back, tapping the mirror behind you and gripping his shoulder more for stability.

He slams into you a final time, a knot forming in your lower stomach for a few seconds before it drops without a second thought.

“wa-wait!” You scream out, but it’s too late. His pace is sloppy, and his dick is pulsing repeatedly inside of you.

Both of your bodies release together, your head leaning off the mirror and forward tapping his chest.

He raises his hand, caressing the back of your head and rubbing your hair. He slowly slides out of you, your fluids and his dripping onto the floor.

Suguru takes his other hand, slowly putting your leg down. You both laughed at this, not noticing you still had it up.

"I hope I was a good partner with this warmup.” You chuckled at his choice of words, adjusting your clothes.

"I wouldn’t say this was a warmup.” You turn around in the mirror, fixing up your hair, and he taps your backside with a helmet.

Where’d this come from?

He smirks, and you turn back. "Trust; you have a lot coming when we get home.” You smile at him with the smile he’s weak for, and you grab the helmet.”

“Maybe I'll be working on you.” you tease. walking past him, swinging your hips, and he follows, whistling.

“Atta girl.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen suguru

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

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Moves & Countermoves (Part 16)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

It is cold and dark, woken from a peaceful slumber to run. Everyone around them is yelling, it’s always scary when grown ups yell.

They are scrambling now, tripping over each other in haste, to get to the woods. A place they’ve been forbidden to go.

“Come on, baby. Keep up.” His aunt insists, in a voice that sounds so like his mother’s. His mother.

“What about my mom and dad?” Everest asks.

“We’ll see them soon.” Madge tells him.

The sky opens and rains fire.

“You said we had an hour.” Gale shouts, over the commotion.

“They must’ve launched the fleet out of district eleven.” Everest’s grandfather calls back. “Get to the woods.”

He is a quiet man. Even tempered, he does not yell; yet he is yelling.

“Dad!” Aunt Madge tries to catch him, but her hands are full.

Full of Arista and me.

“Captain goes down with the ship.” He is gone, lost in the smoke, never to return. A debt paid for the lives he saved.

“No!” Everest wants to go back. Run to him, change it, but he can’t. Someone is holding him still, shaking his shoulders.

“Everest.”

His mother. But she isn’t here. She couldn’t be.

“Shh, shh.”

Mom. The boy startles awake, in their new living quarters of district thirteen. Just a dream.

The baby is crying, he must have woken her too.

Still his mother is there, rocking him gently, smoothing down his hair. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

Everest clings to her, watching as she uses a foot to push the bassinet from side to side. Quieting his littlest sister.

Daisy May.

A child wrought into the world through his mother’s blood, sweat and tears. She cries like it pains her to be separated from the woman who’s given her life and he does not blame her.

“Here, you can come lay with me.” Y/N offers, it is hard to be in two places at once.

Everest climbs into her bed, the spot left vacant by his father. The doctors are trying to make him comfortable, while his body adjusts to the lack of alcohol.

To the victors go the spoils.

————————————————————————

Morning comes much too early, signified by the shifting brightness of lights, rather than the sun.

Everest and Arista leave with Madge for school. There aren’t many children here in thirteen, most teachers have been made useful elsewhere.

This is one of the few things she has allowed, over their three weeks underground, hoping it will help the children acclimate.

Y/N sets her daughter down, in the makeshift bassinet, causing the infant to wail in protest.

“Just for a minute, just for a minute.” She’s coos, pulling on her jumpsuit as fast as she can. Even showering has proven difficult without the extra set of hands. Without Haymitch.

“Civilian Abernathy.” One of the guards call from outside the door.

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him, finishing up the last of her buttons and tossing the baby sling over her head. Reaching down for the infant, she situates her gently. The silence is instant.

“Happy to hear it. Your presence is requested by President Coin.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. If it’s not one president it’s another. She opens the door to find the same man who’s been keeping an eye on her since arrival. “It’s not on my schedule.” She holds out her forearm, showcasing the printed timesheet.

“Your schedule will be revised to compensate the time.”

“Perfect.” Y/N forces a smile. “Any idea what this is about?” She follows him down to the elevator.

“I’m just here to escort you.” He draws the large metal doors closed around them.

“Ever had anybody jump?” They must be thirty stories up.

The soldier shifts. “Are you thinking about it?”

“No,” she shrugs, “just making conversation.”

They reach their destination and the gates plunk open, “charming.”

The rest of their trek is silent. He opens the door and then closes her inside to stand watch. Leaving her to the wolves.

“Y/N, thank you for meeting with me.” Alma Coin says, seated at the long rectangular table. “Please, have a seat.”

“She likes it better when I stand.” Y/N says, patting the child on her chest as she approaches the table.

“Of course.” Coin nods, “you look well.”

“I’m weller than I was when I got here.” Unconscious and hemorrhaging from birth complications.

Plutarch smiles. Hello again.

“I was glad to hear that you’ve received a clear bill of health from our medical team.” Coin runs the tip of her pen over paper as she speaks.

“So the therapist you have me meeting with is just for fun?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“For anyone to endure the level of psychological abuse that you have seen and still persevere…you are an inspiration to us all.”

Y/N swallows hard. What do you want?

“Even still, we feel it’s beneficial for you to continue your sessions with Dr. Aurelius.”

“Any word on extracting the victors being held in the Capitol?” Peeta. Johanna. Annie.

“Rest assured, we are working around the clock to find a safe and effective way to liberate the other victors.”

Y/N nods, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other.

“I hear Haymitch is nearing the end of his withdrawal process and will be assimilated into the general population in the next few days.” Coin continues.

Another nod.

“I understand how delicate this subject may be for you, but if you’d like to keep separate quarters-”

“Why would I do that?” Y/N demands.

Plutarch clears his throat. Alma Coin is about to step over the line and finally understand why Snow kept such tight reins on his Capitol darling.

“Given your history.”

“History?”

“This can be a fresh start for the both of you.” Coin replies, softly. “Dissolve the marriage, with custody arrangements for the children.”

“I don’t want to dissolve my marriage.” Maybe there was some version of her that did. A casualty of war, buried long before his babies grew inside her.

“This is all you’ve known since you were nineteen. I can see how the idea of leaving would be intimidating.”

“You don’t know half the hell I’ve been through, or what Haymitch had to do for me to be standing in this room today. If you did, you wouldn’t be insinuate that this ‘arrangement’ is something I want.” Y/N’s chest heaves, anger boiling in her veins.

“Forgive me.” President Coin concedes, “I didn’t mean to offend you, it was only an offer.”

“I appreciate the thought, but it won’t be necessary. If that’s all-”

“There is one more thing,” Alma is not yet finished, “in regards to Katniss.”

Leave her alone. “Katniss needs more time.”

The president steeples her hands. “I wish we had that to offer, unfortunately the revolution has grown stagnant. We need to fuel this fire, otherwise we might be waiting another seventy-five years.”

“What do you want her to do?”

Now Plutarch takes the floor. “We’d like to shoot a series of propaganda, I like to call them propos. Ideally, we would use you and Katniss in tandem. The districts will follow Katniss, but the Capitol will follow you.”

We would use you. “Can I talk to her first?”

“Please do.” This is a clear dismissal.

————————————————————————

“Sorry I’m late.” Y/N is all but panting when she reaches her husband. Past the rooms harboring Cashmere, Finnick, Katniss and the other patients of thirteen.

He stops bouncing the muted green ball off the wall, catching it in hand. There’s not much to do down here, especially in what feels like solitary confinement. The good doctors are all concerned with his fine motor skills. Haymitch simply tells them, ‘they’re fine.’ Somehow they don’t find this funny.

He gives his wife a tired grin. “Word is, you got stuck in a meeting with Coin…anything new on Peeta?”

“No,” Y/N sighs, “she called me in to tell me about her master plan with Plutarch.”

“Ah,” Haymitch chortles, “do tell.”

“They wanna use Katniss to appeal to the districts and use me to rally support in the Capitol.” She plops, unceremoniously, onto his bed, shoes and all. Removing the baby from her carrier when she begins to fuss.

Thirteen’s jumpsuits are nothing to write home about, but easy enough to open and nurse at a moment’s notice.

“I can think of a few reasons as to why it won’t work.” Haymitch sits at the foot of his mattress.

“Lay it on me.”

“First of all, Katniss can’t act. Not to save her life.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “maybe she’ll do better with practice.”

“I think it’ll be harder than they’re expecting. Especially now, without-” Peeta.

“Yeah,” Y/N looks away.

“What else is wrong?” He knocks her knee.

“Coin offered to dissolve our marriage.”

Haymitch shifts, “and what did you say?”

“I told her to fuck herself.” Y/N says, with a hand over Daisy’s ear. “Nicely.”

At this he smiles, “good. I’m glad we’re both in agreement.”

Y/N reaches for his hand. “You look really good today, Haymitch.” Healthy. No longer trembling or in pain, from lack of alcohol.

“You too.” This separation thing is brutal. They’ve never been apart like this since before they were married.

Y/N can’t run down, at any hour after a nightmare, to crawl into his bed. Same way she couldn’t sit by his bedside and comfort him, when he needed it most, because their children needed her.

“Don’t do that,” he chides.

“Do what?”

“Don’t cry. Don’t.” He moves in closer, putting an arm around her, with Daisy nursing between them.

“I just miss you.” I wanna be with you.

Haymitch inhales, deeply. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna be so far up your ass-” This earns him a laugh, so he keeps going. “You’re going to be sick of me.” I wanna be with you too.

————————————————————————-

“Katniss.” She is in the same place Y/N left her. Alone in her room, with her mind out to sea.

The girl says nothing, acknowledging Y/N with a glance as she rolls Peeta’s pearl between her fingers.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Katniss pauses to consider. “I stayed with you.”

“Hmm?”

“I stayed with you and slept in that stupid chair by your bed for three days, before they made me leave.”

“Katniss.”

“They took Haymitch first, when his headaches got too bad. Madge took the baby and it was just us.” Katniss recounts, “I thought you were gonna die.”

Y/N runs a hand over her dark hair, loose from its braid.

“Then you got up and kept on living, like nothing happened. Like Haymitch wasn’t drying out in some facility, like the bombs never went off, like the games never happened and Peeta isn’t gone.” Katniss says, “but I’m not like you, I can’t do that.”

I hope you don’t end up like me, Katniss. “Can I show you something?”

Katniss nods.

“This is a trick somebody taught me a long time ago. I think it might help.” Y/N holds out a hand.

Katniss mirrors her.

“I feel everything right in my chest. All my pain, worry, anger; it always starts right there.” She gently rests her hand over her heart, just above where her child sleeps, content in her sling.

Katniss follows, placing a hand on her own stomach.

“I just hold it there and think.”

“Think about what?”

“What I’m going to do with those feelings. Sometimes all I can do is feel them. Other times I can channel them into something else, something good.”

“Haymitch taught you that, didn’t he?”

‘That’s where it hurts, huh? Right here?’ Haymitch rubs at the ache in her chest.

That was a lifetime ago. “He did.”

Katniss allows her hand to fall away. “I can’t forgive him.” Not yet, maybe not ever.

“I’m not asking you to.”

This stuns Katniss, eyes wide, searching.

“I do want you to remember that he cares about you and he cares about Peeta. Leaving him behind isn’t something he wanted. It was a choice we had to make; the Capitol fleet was within firing distance. We took a hit and we still circled back, but Peeta and Johanna were already gone.”

“I didn’t know.”

“How could you know?” Y/N replies, ruefully. I wasn’t here to tell you.

Katniss blinks at her.

“I had a meeting today, with Plutarch and President Coin.”

“What did they want?”

“They wanna use us, namely you, to fuel the revolution.” Y/N cuts to the chase, “I’m no stranger to being used, but I have found that if you play your cards right, it can be mutually beneficial.”

“Beneficial how?” She wonders.

“Help us get Peeta back and take down Snow.”

————————————————————————

“It’s been a week since our last session. Any changes? Anything specific you’d like to talk about?”

Y/N sinks back into the chair. “My son’s been having nightmares.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dr. Aurelius jots this down. “About anything in particular?”

“The bombs, district twelve, losing his grandfather.” My dad.

“This was your father, correct.”

“Yes.”

“And what about your husband’s family?”

“They were killed before I met him.”

“Killed?” This is news.

Y/N nods, “Snow had them killed as a punishment for how Haymitch won his games.”

“That must have been hard.”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

“Tell me your story.” The doctor crosses one leg over the other.

“Which one?” Y/N picks at the bed of her thumbnail.

“The real one, if you feel so inclined.”

“I’ve never told anyone.” Not even people I’ve known for years.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“I don’t even know how to tell it.”

“Try.” He says simply.

“Well, I was born in district twelve, to my mother and father. My dad was the mayor and my mom…” My mom- “they both grew up in town.”

“What does that mean?” There is an implication he doesn’t understand.

“In district twelve,” which doesn’t exist anymore, “only the merchant families live in town.”

“They’re wealthy?” He deduces.

“By comparison.” Nothing like a victor’s salary.

“To what?”

“People from the Seam.” Y/N explains, “where Haymitch grew up.”

“I see.”

“The first few years, I was close with my mom’s sister, her name was Maysilee.”

“Was she lost in the bombing as well?”

“No.”

“How did she pass?”

Don’t you watch the games down here? “In the Quarter Quell, same year Haymitch won.”

“Did he kill her?”

“Come on, doc, the story’s not that twisted.” Y/N shakes her head. “They were allies.”

Part 17

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21

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