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campingwiththecharmings · 2 years

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Love is a Game (For Fools to Play)

AN: So, hi. This is the first fic I’ve written in six years (OMG), and my first starring the lovely Poe Dameron, so please be gentle. I’m so sorry this is so long, btw, I meant for it to be a drabble and, well, obviously got a little carried away lmao.

Also, while I wrote this with a female reader in mind, I’m pretty sure it reads as gender neutral (please correct me if that’s wrong, I’ve read this so many times at this point I might be blind to it lol).

(Un-beta'd)

The Resistance has finally found a safe place to lay low and is celebrating their much-needed downtime with silly party games (and alcohol, obviously).

Rated: T Words: 4,600+ (idek y'all) Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: alcohol use, mild cursing, kissing, mutual pining, friends to lovers. AO3

—

You throw back a shot of Jet Juice and grimace as it burns down your throat.

“Shit, this stuff is terrible. Don’t we have anything palatable?”

Poe sits beside you on the floor of the common room, his own shot of Jet Juice between his fingers. “We’re on a secret base in the middle of nowhere. What were you expecting? A Takodana Quencher?”

You laugh, grabbing another shot. “No, but I’d kill for a Starfire 'skee right about now. Maker, I’d even settle for a Tsiraki, at least it tastes good.”

“Eh, I’m more of a Starshine Surprise kind of guy,” he jokes, taking another shot.

You hum in agreement, only kind of processing what he’s saying as you too take another drink. You feel pleasantly buzzed and you find yourself wishing you felt this good all of the time. “That stuff’ll kill you, you know.”

His entire left side is already pretty much flush with your right, so when he chuckles and tries to bump your shoulder with his, he almost falls over into your lap.

“Maker, Dameron, why are you always throwing yourself at me?” You snort, slapping a hand over your face when it’s louder than you anticipated; apparently you’re more sloshed than you’d originally thought.

He rights himself and tries bumping your shoulder again, but only succeeds in pressing himself further into your side. “You’re irresistible, I just can’t help it.”

You huff a laugh and turn to answer him, realizing too late how close his face is to yours. His nose bumps your cheek and his breath fans against your lips as you lock eyes with him. His face is flushed and his eyes are a little hazy and your breath catches in your throat when his gaze dips briefly to your mouth.

You should lean back, give the both of you some space, but you can’t. He’s warm and solid and he just smells so damn good. He licks his lips absently, eyes roaming over your face.

“You know,” he whispers, raising a playful eyebrow, “if you want to kiss me, baby, all you have to do is ask.”

A strangled laugh escapes you as the tension breaks and he smiles and leans away, searching for another drink. He wrinkles his nose when he can’t find one and looks over at you. “We need more shots.”

Just then, someone across the room yells something about playing a game and mostly everyone cheers. Poe looks at you, raising his brows in askance. You shrug and begin the process of standing to your feet (which you don’t remember being so difficult…). Poe is up before you and helps you up the rest of the way, his hand grasping your upper arm.

“You good?” he asks, watching you wobble a little as he lets you go.

You nod and pat his shoulder. “Thanks for the assist, Black Leader.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Come on, let’s go see what the game is.”

When you make it to the crowd of people playing…whatever it is they’re playing, a game is already apparently in full swing. You can’t really see what’s happening, but everyone’s cheering and laughing. You try to ask the person closest to you what’s going on, but it’s so loud, they don’t hear you. You look at Poe, Poe looks at you and you both shrug and turn back to the crowd to wait for an opening.

After a moment, there is one and you grab Poe by the arm and push your way through, dragging him behind you. When you emerge, you finally see what everyone’s so worked up about.

Spin-the-Bottle. They’re playing Spin-the-kriffing-Bottle.

You sigh in disappointment. You’ve never been into this game, even when you’re plastered. The thought of kissing some random person that you don’t even get to pick sounds like the furthest thing from fun to you. But Poe is laughing and cheering beside you (and has somehow found another drink) and you know you won’t be able to get him to leave, at least not right now, so you resign yourself and try to enjoy the antics of your comrades.

It becomes clear pretty quickly that they’re not playing a normal game of Spin-the-Bottle. According to the girl beside you (apparently named Mor), it’s some weird mash-up with another game she can’t recall the name of, but the gist is that a person spins the bottle and goes into a closet with whomever it lands on.

“What do you do once you’re in the closet?” you ask, sure that this must only be fun if you’re totally trashed.

Mor smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you want, but you only get seven minutes.”

The thought of having to do “whatever” with a stranger for even one minute makes your stomach turn and you decide that you are not nearly drunk enough for this and reach over and grab the shot in Poe’s hand.

“I was gonna drink that, you know,” he says deadpans, glaring half-heartedly at you.

You shrug and hand him the empty shot glass. “I need it more than you.”

He shrugs and grabs your hand in his. “Come on, we’re in next.”

You sputter as he pulls you along behind him, trying desperately to pull your hand from his grasp.

“What?! No. No, no, no, no, noooo. I do not want to go in next, I don’t want to go in at all.”

He brushes off your protests, tightening his hold on you. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

As soon as he makes it to the circle of people, there’s a spot open and he maneuvers you into it. You momentarily panic, thinking he’s leaving you alone, but then you see him fill an open spot almost directly across from you and relax a little. He smiles at you briefly and raises an eyebrow and you can practically hear him ordering you to ‘have fun.’

The person to your left nudges you with their elbow, drawing your attention to a tray of shots. You sigh in relief and thank them profusely before grabbing the tray and quickly downing a shot. You take another for later and pass the tray along to the next person.

You turn your attention back on the crowd just as someone’s taking their turn. You tense slightly as the bottle spins and you pray to the Maker that it doesn’t land on you. Thankfully, you are spared and it lands on someone sitting closer to Poe. The two rise from the circle and meet in front of a supply closet looking both nervous and excited. Someone opens the door for them and they cross the threshold and wave to their friends watching in the crowd. When the door closes, everyone cheers.

“You gonna drink that?”

You turn to look at the man on your right, who’s pointing at the full shot glass between your fingers. He’s tall and kind of lanky with sandy blonde hair and green eyes. He’s cute enough, you suppose. If you have to kiss a stranger, you wouldn’t mind it being him (though, if you’re honest with yourself, you’d much rather it be a certain pilot…).

“I am, yes. Eventually.” You tell him, smiling serenely at him. “I was gonna hold onto it until it was my turn, but I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

He laughs and gestures somewhere off to his right. “You know you can just get another one, right?”

You look in the direction he’s pointing and see an Abednedo as he fills a tray with shots and sends it out into the crowd.

“Very good to know. Thanks.”

He nods, accepting your thanks, before holding out his hand to you. “I’m Merrick.”

You shake his hand with a smile and tell him your name. You talk briefly and discover that he joined the Resistance only a few months ago and that he’s training to be a medic. You’re about to get into your own story when the door to the closet opens and the cheering resumes, drowning everything else out. You look at each other and laugh before adding your voice to the cheers.

By the time the next person takes their turn, you’re tipsy, but the room isn’t spinning yet and you don’t feel nervous anymore so you call it a win. The bottle stops on the guy beside you (Merrick, right?) and you cheer obnoxiously, clapping along with everyone else (mostly just happy it hadn't landed on you). He and the spinner head to the closet for their allotted seven minutes and the music and chatter resume.

The tray of shots makes it way back to you and you grab one. You catch sight of Poe on the other side of the circle as you pass the tray along. He’s laughing and talking with the person on his left and you ignore the pang of jealousy that you feel. You stare at him for a little longer, trying not to let this ruin your buzz. He catches your gaze after a moment and smiles, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite place. Instead of trying to figure it out, you return his smile and raise your drink to him before gulping it down.

The fun continues for what feels like hours, days even, and you’ve had so much alcohol by the time it’s your turn to spin that you can barely see straight (which makes spinning the bottle ten times harder than it should be). You blow your first spin, giggling when you send the bottle flying off into the crowd, much to everyone’s amusement (they’re all just as trashed as you, after all). On your second try, you get it to spin but it barely makes a full rotation and someone in the crowd calls for a respin. On your third try, you manage to make it spin fast enough, and it feels like ages before it finally stops. When it does, you look up to see who it’s landed on and your breath catches.

Familiar brown eyes meet yours on the other side of the circle and you swallow thickly.

Kriffing hell.

Your walk to the closet is a little awkward. Pretty much everyone knows who Poe is, and about half of them also know that the two of you are basically attached at the hip, so this turn of events is probably entertaining the hell out of them.

Everyone cheers when the door opens and suddenly you’re wondering how you managed to find any of this entertaining a few minutes ago…

You enter the closet, Poe trailing behind you. It’s more spacious than you’d anticipated, which you suppose is a good thing. The door shuts with a click and you’re struck by how quiet it suddenly is. It’s dark but you manage to figure out where Poe is with minimal effort. He hasn’t said anything since the bottle landed on him and you wonder if he’s trying not to be sick over the thought of having to kiss you. You don’t really know what to say either so you just let the silence permeate and try not to have a panic attack.

If this had been years ago, before you’d really known him, before the two of you had become almost inseparable, this would probably be one of the greatest moments of your life. But now, faced with the prospect of kissing your best friend when he clearly doesn't want to…you’re worried that your relationship will never recover and you’ll lose one of the most important people in your life.

It feels like it’s been hours, but you know it can’t have been because the door’s still closed, the silence around you almost deafening. You take a deep breath and look where you know he’s standing.

“Guess we should get this over with, huh?” you say awkwardly, thankful that he can’t see you cringe at yourself.

His laugh sounds forced and you can actually hear him run his hand nervously through his hair. “Look, we don't have to do this if you don’t want to. It’s just a dumb game.”

His voice is soft and a little gravely (probably from all the yelling) and you know he means it, but your pride won't let you back down from this.

“No, it’s fine. We’re friends, right? Friends kiss each other all the time.”

He actually laughs at this, and you imagine him shaking his head at you. “Do they?”

You shrug in response before remembering that he can’t see you. “Sure, probably. Somewhere.”

He laughs again and you smile to yourself, suddenly feeling a little braver. “Besides, I'm honestly a little bit curious. I've heard you’re pretty skilled in this area.”

It comes out sounding like a joke, but you’re only half kidding. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve always wondered if the rumors of his prowess were true.

He says nothing but you hear him shift on his feet, as if he’s uncomfortable. You feel a pang of fear and rush to add, “I’m kidding. Obviously.”

He hums in response but says nothing else and it takes all your willpower not to find him, grab him, and shake him until he says something. Anything.

“Okay,” you try, taking a step in his direction, “how about we just count to three and, ya know…do it.”

“‘Do it?’” he repeats, voice laced with amusement.

You sigh and roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see you. “Yeah…kiss, or whatever.”

He laughs at you again and suddenly you’re annoyed that he’s clearly very much enjoying your discomfort.

“Could you please elaborate as to what actions fall under ‘whatever?’”

You grunt at him and reach out in the darkness. Your hand comes into contact with what you think is his chest and you push him in retaliation.

“Alright, fine,” he placates, still laughing as he shuffles a little closer to you. “You’re right, let’s just do this and get back to the party.”

“Sounds good,” you reply with a nod to yourself.

“Right. So. Who goes first? Do you kiss me first, or do I kiss you first?”

You huff a laugh and nervously wet your lips. “I don’t think it really matters, Poe.”

“Sure it does. We can’t both move to kiss each other at the same time, we’ll bust a lip.”

Huh. He does kind of have a point. Too bad you can’t flip a coin.

"Alright. On the count of three, we both say a number between one and ten, the highest number initiates the kiss.”

It’s silent for a moment as he considers. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Great. Ready? One, two, three.”

You say five. Poe says seven.

Right then, so, Poe’s going to kiss you.

…Poe is going to kiss you.

Shit.

“Alright then. You ready?” He asks, clearing his throat.

“Sure. Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He sniffs a quiet laugh through his nose in response before stepping closer to you. You feel his hand land softly on your shoulder and you furrow your brow in confusion.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

He remains silent as he gingerly feels his way up the side of your neck to cradle your face and your breath catches in your chest.

“Not much light in here. Need a little assistance if I’m gonna have to land blind.”

“My face isn’t a landing strip, Poe."

He snorts, his thumb absently caressing the apple of your cheek. “Noted.”

He’s close now, so close and you’re reminded of earlier that night when he joked about you wanting to kiss him and it’s then that you realize that you do. So much. Suddenly, there’s nothing else in the entire galaxy that you want more right now than for Poe Dameron, your best friend, to kiss you…

And kiss you he does.

His lips are warm, and when they touch yours, your first thought is of how unbelievably soft they are. They slide against yours slowly, almost hesitantly, and your chest aches a little at the sweetness of it. The scent of him is overwhelming, intoxicating, and you wonder, not for the first time, if it’s something he puts on or if it’s just him. After a moment, you remember to move your lips against his, causing him to pause briefly, and you wonder if he expected you to just stand there and let him do all the work.

All thoughts disappear from your head when he continues the kiss, gently angling your head and releasing a breath through his nose as he presses his mouth harder against yours. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pulls your body closer with his free hand, his boots bumping against yours as he slots his foot between them. Heat blossoms in your chest when his tongue lightly traces the seam of your lips and you part them without hesitation. His tongue dips into your mouth to brush against yours and you sigh softly at the sensation. He tastes divine; an intoxicating combination of spice, caf, and alcohol. Your hands, which had been clenched into fists at your sides, move instead to clutch at the fabric of his shirt so you can pull him closer, and you swear you hear him groan when his chest bumps against yours.

You're so lost in the feel of him, in the taste of him, you forget where you are and why you’re even doing this in the first place and, before your lust-fogged brain has a chance to clear, there is a click and door to the closet opens. You both pull away from each other automatically, squinting at the light spilling in from the common room and flinching as the cheers from the crowd fill your ears. As your eyes adjust, you glance at Poe, expecting him to look as wrecked as you feel…except, he doesn’t. Instead, he looks like he always does: cool, collected, and mildly irritated. A little embarrassed, you immediately school your expression to something similar, something unaffected, before he notices.

You both nod awkwardly to the crowd as you exit the closet to return to the party. You start to walk in the direction of the make-shift bar, but stop suddenly when the room spins a little. You grunt and close your eyes at the feeling, Poe steadying you with a hand on your back. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you assure, ignoring the pleasant heat of his hand through your shirt. “Just a little dizzy. Think I drank too much.”

He’s nodding when you open your eyes again, a teasing smile on his lips. “You definitely did.”

You huff a laugh and bump him with your shoulder. “You’re one to talk.”

“You’re right, we’ve both outdone ourselves tonight,” he agrees with a chuckle. “Let’s get some water and maybe a few snacks. Pretty sure I saw some over here earlier.”

You shake your head when he tries to walk and pull you with him. “Actually, I think I’m just gonna call it a night.”

He looks a little disappointed but you can tell he understands. “Alright, yeah. Let’s go, I’ll walk you back.”

“No, it's okay, I can make it,” you say, trying to sound more sure than you actually feel.

He studies you for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “You sure? I mean, you were all wobbly a couple seconds ago, remember?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure with a chuckle, “Really. Go, have fun.”

“Not sure how much more fun I can take at this point but, since you’re the one asking, I’ll give it a try.”

You smile and move to walk away. “Night, Poe.”

“Night. Make sure you drink lots of water, and eat something. It’ll help with the dizziness.”

You salute him mockingly and turn away with a laugh. “Yes, sir, Commander.”

As you walk slowly back to your room, all you can think about is your kiss with Poe. About how you wish you could do it again, do it everyday for the rest of your life. A pang of longing slices through your chest and you groan in annoyance, mentally kicking yourself for letting this happen.

Sleep, you tell yourself. Sleep will fix this. It fixes everything.

You manage to make it to your room unscathed and toe off your boots before falling into your bed with a groan, falling asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.

—

You wake a few hours later with a throbbing head and a mouth as dry as the sands of Jakku.

Maker, you’re swearing off alcohol after this.

Or, Jet Juice, at least…

It’s then that you remember Poe’s “orders” to drink water and eat something and you instantly regret not listening to him (not that you’d ever admit that to him). You roll gingerly off of your bed and walk to the sink in the corner. After many, many cups of water, you start to feel slightly more human again. You search for food but can’t find any, and you’re seriously considering running down to the mess hall for some snacks, when you hear a knock at your door.

You pause, confused as to who it could be this early in the morning. Your bunkmate stayed with their partner last night so it likely isn’t for them, and you aren’t expecting anyone…

After a moment of deliberation, you open the door to find Poe. It’s only been a few hours since you saw him, but you can’t help but notice how exhausted he looks.

“Maker, you look as bad as I feel.”

Poe runs a hand through his hair and looks at you with tired eyes. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d check in on you.”

You ignore the warmth that spreads through your chest at his concern and usher him inside without another word, closing the door behind him with a click.

“Shit, I didn’t wake you, did I?” he adds with trepidation, turning abruptly to face you.

It’s early morning, and there isn’t much light filtering in through the small window on the other side of the room just yet, but the lamp on your desk is on and you can more or less make him out despite the dimness.

“No, I was up. Looking for snacks when you knocked, actually.”

He nods absently, chewing on his lip as he silently studies your face. He’s close, so close, and you find yourself trying desperately to push the memory of kissing him just a few hours ago from your thoughts.

“Everything okay?” you ask evenly, resisting the urge to look at his mouth.

He hesitates, throat bobbing as he considers his response. “I’m just…so tired.”

Your brow furrows as he squeezes his eyes shut and looks away from you with a sigh. You can tell he doesn’t just mean the war, that there’s something else there that he isn’t sharing with you. Your mind immediately returns to the kiss and a sharp panic stabs through you. He knows. He knows and he’s struggling with that knowledge–the knowledge that you’re head-over-heels in love with him, that you’ve probably been in love with him since the day you met him.

His eyes meet yours again as you silently panic and his brow furrows. “What is it?”

He’s still close, standing in the doorway between you and the rest of your room. You shake your head as you look away and move to walk past him, but he catches your arms to keep you where you are.

“Uh, uh, don’t run away. Talk to me.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly a desert despite the copious amount of liquid you’ve consumed. You meet his eyes again and inhale slowly, chewing on your bottom lip.

You close your eyes and sigh in resignation. “It’s stupid,” you whisper.

“So what, you say stupid shit all the time.”

You let out a choked laugh and fight back the tears threatening to pool in your eyes. Poe. Solid, wonderful, always-there-for-you Poe. You can’t lose this, lose him. You’d crash and burn and there’d be no one to bring you back.

“Just tell me,” he whispers softly, moving one of his hands to cup your face.

You open your eyes to meet his gaze again, knowing he can probably read everything you don’t want him to know on your face.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asks, his eyes pleading but also…hopeful?

“What, like, in general?” you joke in an attempt to deflect.

He frowns and shoots you a disapproving look. “You know what I mean.”

You swallow thickly and release a breath before responding. “I’m afraid that what happened will ruin our friendship.”

He nods sadly, as if he expected this answer. "Listen to me, okay? Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change the way I feel about you."

His hand is still on your face, and he's looking at you in a way you've never seen him look at you before and a little flicker of hope starts to burn in your chest.

You nod, giving him a tight smile.

He smiles back, moving to release you and step away, to give you the space you’d been seeking just a moment ago, but you realize suddenly that you don’t want it. You clasp your hand around his wrist to keep it in place, his eyes widening a little in surprise as he searches your face. He must find what he needs there, because his expression morphs quickly from surprised to determined and then he's pressing his lips to yours.

You hesitate for a moment out of surprise, before smiling against his mouth as you kiss him back. He sighs in relief and kisses you harder, as if he's been wanting this, longing for this, just like you have. He cradles your face in his hand and angles your head slightly so he can deepen the kiss. Heat blossoms in your chest as your lips continue to slide against his and your body suddenly feels so hot you think you might combust. When his tongue teases the seam of your lips, it’s your turn to sigh. You part them and allow him entrance, moaning softly at the taste of him. Slowly, you slide your hands up his chest and plunge your fingers into his soft, thick hair. The rings on your fingers catch on his curls as you bury them deeper and he groans softly at each tug.

You'll have to remember that for later.

He pulls back from you suddenly, pressing his forehead to yours, the hand on your face sliding down to rest at the base of your neck as he lets both of you catch your breath. You observe him from beneath your lashes while you wait, chewing your bottom lip as you survey the damage you’ve done to him; he’s flushed, his lips are red and puffy, his hair is a mess, and his eyes…kriffing hell, his eyes–Heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust. This. This is what you had hoped to see before, see him just as wrecked as you.

“You know,” you whisper teasingly, toying with a lock of his hair, “if you wanted to kiss me, baby, all you had to do was ask.”

He laughs and it takes everything in you not to grab him by his collar and immediately pull his mouth back to yours (though, you doubt he’d complain if you did). You know you have to talk about this, talk about what this means, what this is, but all you really want to do right now is keep kissing him.

So you do.

That's all folks, thanks for reading!

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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closet scene (Poe’s POV)

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron reader insert #my fic

241 notes · View notes

bangtanintotheroom · 6 months

Note

💧(are you surprised? 😁)

(Not at all 😉) here’s your thirst quencher!

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen.

While Chan was occupied between your legs, you turned your head to see what his roommate was up to. Felix was still sitting in the chair, like he was told, but he was managing to keep himself busy.

As his dark eyes bore into the two of you, you noticed his hand tucked underneath the waistband of his shorts, unmistakably moving up and down at a snail’s pace. A tremble coursed through your body at the sight, especially when his gaze locked onto yours. And then the bastard ran his tongue over his shapely lips.

Nope. You couldn’t leave the guy hanging anymore.

Holding a hand out towards the blond, you gave a ‘come hither’ motion with your fingers. Felix’s face lit up before he removed his hand and stood, walking over to the side of the bed.

“Yes?”

Your mouth curled at his tone. “You look like you need some help.”

His smile reflected yours, glancing down at the tent in his pants. “I mean, if you’re offering…”

Send in an emoji for WIPs!

#asks #ask game #sunnyyy 💕#minisugakoobies #my lovely moots #wip game

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simpscripts · 1 year

Text

Sex in the Club Part 1 (Jean-Ralphio Saperstein x Reader)

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Drug use, Alcohol, drunk/high sex, smoking, anal sex, vaginal sex, semi-public, and slight dubcon cause drugs.

Summary: You get horny while pregaming with your boyfriend, Jean-Ralphio, while at the club. Naughty sex in the bathroom ensues.

Authors note: Honestly there is not really a plot besides me being horny. As always be responsible when actually drinking or smoking and I implore you to pull up a 90’s, 2000’s club playlist while reading this. Pony is a must, obviously. This has to be broken up because I can’t control myself from writing long ass smut. If you want to read it unbroken it will be on ao3 too but I will try as much as possible to make the break minimally jarring.

Your fingers twirled the colorful glowstick band around your wrist as you bump your head and shoulders along with the pounding music. You mouth along the words to the dj’s mixes happily as you look up from your seat to see if you can spot your boy among of the sea of bodies dancing in neon spotlights. Eventually his long form can be seen dancing back to you through a split in the crowd with his arms stretched inwards towards his chest to protect the drinks he held, head bopping with the beats, and hips waving back in forth as he moved.

An airy laugh bubbles from you as his face brightens with a wide smile when he catches your gaze then does a little dance just for you while staring suggestively. When his body gets close enough you move quickly to reach out and grab your drink that is threatening to spill over with his bounces. He climbs in the other side of the booth, taking an awkward amount of time to round the whole booth to be by your side when he could have simply just asked you to move to let him in. He never did anything the easy way though.

“Alright, did you miss me baby? Cause I certainly missed you sweet thang. Now here is one scrumdiddlyumptious ‘screaming orgasm’ for my beautiful lady, and one ‘pussy quencher’ for this guy.” He shouts to you over the music and you laugh as you hear the names of the drinks he picked out for you two.

“I think I’ll need another ‘screaming orgasm’ by the end of tonight.” You laugh, lifting the straw you know he made sure to get just for you and sip down the sweet syrupy cocktail that was almost too pretty too drink.

As always he raises his glass and chugs it down in one big go before slamming the glass back down on the table and screaming out a ‘woo’ as he shakes his head. The music thrums against your skin and you start dancing in your seat with the music, stomach and chest moving in body rolls, and take small sips of your drink with happy hums. You can feel his fingers walk over your back to curl around your waist and you peer over to see him staring at you.

You flush at his burning look and hide behind your fruity drink, a bit shy under his gaze. “What?”

“You are so ridonkulously sexy.” He makes a show of letting his eyes draw up and down your body before biting his lip.

“Uh, huh. Says mr. pretty boy himself.” You hum back but go back to dancing, continuing your show for him.

His fingers snap at his side to light his zippo and you watch him lean forward to pop a joint from his gold case on the table into his mouth before lighting it and leaning back to stretch out against the back of the booth.

You quickly curl your legs up on the booth and lean your body into the crook of his arm letting your head rest on his chest while you trail your fingers across his pecs. It was a small ritual you both indulged in whenever you got to the club, taking a small moment to partake in substances to fuel your long night of partying while taking in the vibe of the environment before diving in.

His arm stretched out behind you moves forward to trail his fingers along your hair. A fluttering tingle rolls down your spine with each pull of his fingers through your strands and a particularly deep rumble vibrates in your chest every time his nails scrap past your scalp. You sit together in this calm relaxation as you both let the bass of the music pound against your bodies and he takes small hits from the joint.

You tilt your head to watch him blow little o rings out of his puckered lips, poking his finger into his cheek to further push the circular wisps out in front of you before they crash into the glasses on the table and dissipate. Your nose tickles as you second hand inhale the fragrant clouds he occasionally blows in your direction.

With the seamless transition to the next song you feel his chest move as he shifts and his fingers pulls your head up to look at him better. “Come here baby.”

His face angles away as his other hand holding the joint raises to his lips for a long draw. Your hand resting on his chest feels it rising with the big inhale and you smile happily, letting your lips part while you wait with closed eyes.

The hand cradling you further cranes your jaw up and he presses his open lips against yours. When he exhales you automatically start inhaling to pull every bit of smoke from him. It’s a bit of an odd feeling that you’ve gotten used to by now, learning long ago that alcohol is a great help to relax your muscles from tensing as you accept the suctioning pull.

The warm moist air fills you headily, drawing in a seemingly never ending stream of air from his lungs. He’s always did have the lung capacity of a scuba diver on steroids. As he finishes up his teeth sink into your lip before drawing back to nuzzle his nose against yours. You stare up at him dizzily with heavy eyelids and blow back a controlled stream at his face. His nostrils flare as he inhales the diluted thinning smoke and his lips curl in a growing smile as he watches you with his own dazed look.

“Damn baby, you take it like a champ.” He exhales shakily, eyes so blown with lust and intoxication that you can see the dancing neon lights twinkle in their blackness. “I need you so bad right now.”

You giggle as his hand trails down your neck to squeeze your breast through your tight dress.

“Nooooo,” You whine, trying to move your cloudy body to wiggle away. “We just got here! I haven’t gotten to dance yet and I’m still only on my second drink.”

“Mmm, we can fix that.” He hums, leaning forward to snatch a large bottle of clear alcohol from the table.

He brings the rim to your lips and starts slowly tipping the bottle. Immediately your mouth starts flooding with the sharp burn of tequila that you swallow back before it can linger on your tongue for too long. You can feel the tickle of a small stream leak out the corners of your mouth that fall down over your jaw and neck.

You hear the sound of the glass bottle clinking back against the table as his head leans down to lick across your lips and lap the trail of liquid off your skin. Your moans thankfully can’t be heard through the loud music and you let them out freely as his open mouthed kisses move down your neck.

“I still haven’t gotten a chance to dance.” You huff out, your mind loosing its battle as you feel his tongue against your skin and your gut warms from all the liquid you chugged down.

“If I check my impeccable memory, lets see here. Mmhm, yep, it was your dancing that caused this in the first place, so technically its your fault for being too damn sexy. And frankly, I deserve a reward for heroically getting you a drink without spilling it.” He rambles against your skin, arm stretching out blindly to snub out the rest of the remaining burning joint into the ash tray.

“Everyone can see us.” You weakly protest, his hands now roaming freely across your tight dress that is quickly feeling more suffocating.

“Nobody is paying attention, c’mon baby please, let daddy do his thang.” He always did start begging and using the word daddy more whenever he got high. God, you really were down bad for this train wreck of a man.

You start to squeal as you feel his fingers try to curl under the top lining of your dress right above your breast. He fully intends to pull your dress down in front of everybody, and you hate how much the idea makes you throb. You aren’t nearly inebriated enough yet to let it happen outside of fantasy and you manage to pull away from his grip as you slip out of the booth and pull on your small dress to cover all the areas he managed to expose.

“Nope” You make a show of popping the p and lean down to kiss him sweetly. “I’m going to dance.”

He shakes his head in acknowledgment of his attention as he squints his eyes and grins up at you while licking his lips. You knew that look could only mean trouble. “Oh ok. I see how it is girl. You like a chase and I respect that.”

He leans back in his seat and spreads open his thighs as he relaxes back into place, even taking time to pour himself a shot . Seeing the outline of his hard length through his incredibly tight pants stretching with his open position makes you almost regret leaving his side.

“Well then, get on with it. Give daddy a good show and then I’ll chase you down.” He quickly downs the shot and pours another while waving you off. “Go on now, git!”

Feeling a bit silly as your bloodstream finally sucks in everything you gave it, you dance backwards towards the crowd while watching him. Your attention span was shortening with every pump of blood circulating through your organs. By the time you made it to the edge of the crowd nearest to your booth you completely forgot he was watching you.

All you could feel was the floating bubbles in your veins that welcomed in the beats of the music easily, the rhythm controlling your body more than you could. A small bit of paranoia tries seeping through to your few functionally remaining brain cells but with experience you took a moment to take a deep breath. The first few minutes after partaking were always the most intense for you but you knew the intensity would blissfully mellow out in just a few moments.

Your attention span distracts you again as the next song in rotation made you jump up in excitement. The whole club felt like electric and your high only heightened that feeling tenfold. You knew you were singing loudly with the crowd that was jumping around you but you could only pay attention to the sway of your limbs that felt like they were floating through water. Your hands circle up into the sky to feel them swim before you make a show of dragging them down your body as you shimmy side to side.

You rub your hands across your limbs and neck to take a moment to center yourself but more realistically you were just very drunkenly amused at how your skin felt. Your fingers glided up and down along your neck to curve around your shoulders in a sort of self hug. You absolutely loved the feeling of your hands as they round down your curves and hips. You felt fucking beautiful and the realization only made you dance more sensually with a new vigor. You were burning with passion that giggled out your mouth, the weed making it hard not to smile brightly.

Your own hands almost felt foreign to you by factor of the numbness and your gut flutters as you close your eyes and picture Jean with you. You could picture him right behind you like he usually positioned himself, moving your hips along to the music as you lose yourself. You miss the feeling of his hands gripping into your waist as you dance, crossing your arms around your waist at the thought to dig in like he would while you sway.

You jump like your being shocked when you feel fingers lace into each of your hands from behind. Your head leans back quickly and you flash a big lopsided smile when you see its Jean. You giggle and throw your head back to rest against his shoulder as you push your ass back against him.

“So did daddy like the show?” You laugh out cheekily, resisting the urge to drop to your knees when you feel his hard dick thrust up against your ass in tandem with the music.

“Mmhm daddy loved it. So fucking sexy.” He growled at you and you hear the sharp clink of his teeth near your ear with the snap of his jaws. “Now bring the ass back and bounce on me.”

He didn’t even give you the option to obey him as his hands greedily grabbed onto your hips to pull you back against him. Both of you lost in each other’s bodies as you shamelessly grind against each other. His mouth littered kisses along your exposed neckline that have your knees wobbling under you. You were only getting hornier with every touch, each one sending pings directly to your clit. It was one thing to be horny and desperate when you were sober but it felt excruciating while you were intoxicated.

“I thought you were going to chase me?” You breathe out as you can make out the throb of his dick even through the layers of cloth.

“Mmm how about, and this is just me spitballing so hear me out, but you and I just go ahead and bang this one out in the bathroom.”

“Fuck ok yes, yes please.” You moan out wantonly, not wanting to waste another second.

“Yea?!” He sounds so excited and your knees buckle as he bites against your ear. You can just feebly nod your head in affirmation against him.

He quickly starts leading you through the crowd, hand never leaving yours but taking the lead to push people out of the way if necessary. Apparently what is necessary for him right now is getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible because nearly every person even slightly in his path become collateral damage and get shoved to make room for you. You’re surprised you manage to escape through the set of doors that lead to the hallway for the bathrooms miraculously without him getting into a fight from his drunken aggression.

The back hallways looked to be completely empty, not surprising seeing as it was still early in the night and no one wanted to break their seal this early. Give it an hour or two and the bathrooms lines will be wrapped all the way out the front door. You don’t think about it for long as you approach the dead end hallway with doors on either side separating the women’s and men’s rooms. You think he will turn one way or the other but he tugs on your wrist and moves to push your body against the wall.

#x reader #smut #x reader smut #jean ralphio x reader #jean ralphio saperstein #jean ralphio #parks and rec x reader #parks and recreation #parks and rec #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #reader insert #fanfictions #shout out to my amazing playlist

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peerlessscowl · 1 year

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{ Water: The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face!

A spot of red catches her eye in the crowd, a flicker of hope, but -- no, it's too short to be even Julian's -- the human one's-- hair. Nevertheless, he seems uncomfortable, tugging at his vine more than once in the short while she glances at him.

"Hello!" Maria calls some short while later, approaching him with a glass of water in hand. She holds it out to him in offering, the smile on her face touched by a quirked brow and a note of sheepishness. "Is your necklace uncomfortable? I brought some water if you want some!"

Her gaze drops slightly - resting, no doubt, on the perplexing, flowerless tendril that has enchained them all. "Hmm... I know how to deal with normal necklaces, but since we can't take these off..." A pursing of lips, thoughtful. "Oh! Maybe they'll grow as the flowers do?" As if in kind, a smile blooms. "I hope it loosens up!"

Raven stiffens at the greeting, gaze falling sharply on the girl as she approaches. He thinks he knows this one - an Eagle? Chad's friend - and he forces his expression into something neutral, possibly resembling a smile as he takes the glass of water she extends to him.

"Thank you," he says, fingers trailing up to the vined shackle around his throat at their mention. He sees that she's wearing them too and for a moment he is furious - incensed at these elementals and their games, their indiscriminate targets - but he reins in his anger before he answers, a simple, "...yes, it's...tight."

It isn't tight as such, but it weighs more than it should, and in spite of himself he almost feels it creeping closer around his throat.

He takes a sip of the proffered water, forcing himself to calm before he speaks. "That's smart. It's worth a shot." He holds his hand out, brand up, and offers it to her.

#in character #toaball2023 #interaction: princessmacedon #air flower 1 #maria pleading face

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bxldrsdraumar · 11 months

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[ Water: The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face! ]

“ Good evening, Lord Sigurd if my memory of the Knights' roster does me correctly... ” Kent comes over with a glass of water in hand. “ My name is Kent. I have spoken with your wife on a number of occasions. Her Imperial Majesty speaks fondly of your bond. ”

Looking at the man now, he sees that Lord Seliph most likely got his hair color and eye color from him then. Hm.

“ Forgive me for being forward, but you look a bit flushed, so I wanted to help offer something to pace yourself with. ”

Though Deirdre had forewarned him of this particular knight's demeanor, the formality even during an event such as this came as a bit of a surprise that Sigurd could not help but laugh at.

"Ah, Sir Kent, of course. My wife has informed my of much of her time here, and your name has come up a time or two. Good evening, well met!"

Sigurd replaced the glass of water in Kent's hand with his own hand, a clapping and enthusiastic handshake which trickled a jovial wind up the other man's arm, the firm buzz of static against Sigurd's own palm. "She has told me of your thoughtfulness, of course," he gestured with the glass of water, "but perhaps you might take a moment to enjoy the festivities yourself? Here, I will trade you."

From a passing mouse waiter, Sigurd nabbed a flute of champagne and pushed it into the other man's hand, gently tapping the rim of his water glass against it with a wink. "Cheers, my friend."

He sipped the water happily, the gesture kind on its own, but Sigurd found himself noting that the buzz in his veins, the flush on his cheeks, all appeared to compliment the continued clarity with which he took in the evening. Indeed, as he cast his mind back through the evening, he found he had lost count of how many flutes of bubbly he had imbibed, and yet he felt as fresh as he had the moment he had awoken that morning.

How strange that is, Sigurd could not help but think, lowering the glass, brow furrowing, before he shook off the disquiet and his lips slipped into a smile once more.

"I should look forward to getting to know you better, Sir Kent."

#in character #toaball2023 #interaction: liegebound #lightning flower 4 #n allowing me to flesh out my theory that sig isn't affected by alcohol

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berrymoos · 2 years

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𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 FROM my heart and the earth share the same rule (wc: 397)

— 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 || [𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜] 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 + 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚌 ;; 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢

𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎

Sand is not a pleasant texture on the tongue, nor does it habor a tasty flavor to forgive its harsh, scraping feeling, but Marc can't will his thumb away from his mouth and continues to suckle around the grains. He feels stupid for doing this — being like this, getting to such a stage so easily — in the middle of a mission, but sweat coats his face, sticks his clothes to his clammy skin, and even with the sun sunken for the night, it's still unbearably humid. His feet hurt, his eyes burn with exhaustion, there isn't much water left in his canister anymore, and he's been staring at these ripped pieces of paper for so long they make even less sense than before. It wasn't like it ever made sense to him in the beginning, but it was important for ther advancement, so it had to, one way or another.

But his head is killing him. His bones are lead. His tongue is sandpaper, parching him further, but the last of the water would serve as a taunt rather than a quencher. Home had water; fresh, cold water. Home had vents that could blow cool air over his red skin, and home would let him peel off his sticky clothes, let him wear nothing but boxers while he dozed away the fatigue of his body, tye tension of his headache ... but he's not at home — he's in the desert on a mission, miles and miles away from a comforting flat that he wasn't even meant for him. In reality, he deserved nothing less of what he's got right now—

"Marc?" Steven says, startling him. Marc turns his attention to the broken rearview mirror to see his frown and furrowed brows, antsy wringing fingers, and it's his final straw. With a wobbling bottom lip, he bites on his thumb as a way to reign in a pathetic whine, hunches his shoulders, and his control all but dashes away before he can think twice. Distantly, he hears his name in Layla's concerned tone, Steven's beginning of stumbling words as he explains while trying to shake off such a sudden switch, but he doesn't care. He trips to the corner of their headspace, sinks down, and gives in to the temptation of chewing the abused skin around his fingers. This isn't home, but it isn't like he truly had one, anyway.

#i said i would post the fic but uh distraction moment lolz </3 #🍓．berry's fics #moon knight agere #fandom agere #sfw agere #marvel agere #agere fic

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laurensfabfinds · 4 months

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VALENTINES GIFTS FOR HER

Hey, lovelies! 💖 Lauren here, your go-to for fab finds. Check out my top Valentine's picks:

Smiley Slippers - Walk on Cloud Nine! Smiley Slippers

FEISEDY Aviator Sunglasses - Embrace Retro Glam! FEISEDY Aviator Sunglasses

Gold Layered Necklace - Dainty Elegance! Gold Layered Necklace

Comfy Sweatsuit - Cozy Chic for Any Occasion! Comfy Sweatsuit

Checkered Blanket - Wrap in Warmth and Love! Checkered Blanket

Puffer Vest - Stay Stylish in Every Season! Puffer Vest

Lip Butter Balm - Sweet Kisses Await! Lip Butter Balm

Stanley Quencher - Sip in Style, Sip Sustainably! Stanley Quencher

SOL Janeiro Perfume Mist - Embrace the Sunshine! SOL Janeiro Perfume Mist

Feel free to use these links and share the love! 💕 #LaurensPicks #ValentinesDay #FabFinds

LaurensPicks #ValentinesDay #FabFinds

#valentines day #holiday gifts #gifts for her #gifts

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nishp · 8 months

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🌟✨ Embrace the Coconut Craze: National Coconut Week is Here! ✨🌟

Hey there, Tumblr pals! 🥥🌴 Are you ready to indulge in all things coconut and celebrate National Coconut Week with us? 🎉🥳 Get ready for a journey into the world of this versatile and oh-so-delicious tropical fruit! 🏝️🥭

🍹🥭 Sip, savor, repeat! Join us as we explore the wonders of coconut water – nature's electrolyte-packed refreshment. Whether you're rehydrating after a workout or just chilling under the sun, coconut water is the ultimate thirst quencher. 🥤🌞

🍽️🍛 Craving something savory? We've got you covered with a selection of lip-smacking coconut-infused recipes. From coconut shrimp curry to mouthwatering vegan coconut chickpea stew, your taste buds are in for a tropical treat! 🍤🍛

💆‍♀️🥥 Did you know that coconuts aren't just delicious but also great for your skin and hair? Discover the beauty secrets hidden within coconuts – from nourishing hair masks to luxurious body scrubs. Get ready to glow like a true island goddess! ✨🧖‍♀️

🌴🍨 And of course, we can't forget about the sweet stuff! Dive into a world of coconut-infused desserts that will satisfy your sweet tooth while transporting you to a beachside paradise. 🏖️🍰

Ready to embark on this tropical journey with us? 🚀🥭 Click the link below to uncover all the coconut goodness and make this National Coconut Day one for the books!

Tag your coconut-loving buddies and let's spread the love for coconuts far and wide! 🥥🍹 Let's make this National Coconut Day the most delicious one yet. 🌴🎉

visit to buy your favorite coconut food products:

also beauty products:

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chaptertwo-thepacnw · 4 years

Photo

lip quencher |1980|

#gif #lip quencher #lipstick #cosmetics #chapstick #1980 #beauty

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justseventeen · 2 years

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January 1987. 'Soft, smooth, lush lips want moisture. That's why they need Quencher.'

#vintage ads #beauty #quencher #lip gloss #1980s style #1987

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thegikitiki · 7 years

Photo

Lip Quencher, 1975

#19975 #'75 #1970s #70s #seventies #vintage ads #70s ads #lip quencher #chap stick #cosmetics

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thepeacockplume · 2 years

Text

I am standing on a high rise

With my wings spread,

Ready to fly into the darkness

That surrounds me.

I feel the breeze kiss me

Like a blazing knife

Onto my skin

And making me feel alive.

I hold my lollipop like a cigarette

Between my lips

And hold myself like a gun,

Ready to shoot and kill.

I have seen my dreams shatter

On a marbled floor,

Its pieces spread all over and around

My feet and my happiness

Reminding me to live again.

I cry blue and purple.

I cry for the people

Who couldn’t find paradise,

Who couldn’t climb the mountain,

Who couldn’t dream,

Who couldn’t live,

I cry for them.

I see under me, and I see all–

Abusers and affectioners,

Losers and conquerers,

Flyers and quenchers.

All under the same quilt

Woven with humaneness

With thoughts and bubbles.

I am the God,

Who showers and thunders and lightens

The ground with my desires.

My lips are as warm and wet like the Pacific

My tongue: sharp as the sword which killed me

But my heart, still so soft and round;

Still sensitive to love and breaks,

Still rippling like a young pond,

Still hopeful.

#poetic #original poem #poemsbyme #powerful #living #nights into dreams #god #writers and poets #hopeful

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bubblyani · 4 years

Text

The Flannel Giant

(Flip Zimmerman x Black!Female Reader)

A Flip Zimmerman One Shot

Rating: Mature

Request: flip zimmerman x black! female reader ?? it could be literally anything im just so desperate 😞💕 thank you if you do and even if you dont thanks for writing ! - @pastelhybristophiliac

Author’s Note: This man is a literal thirst quencher. So this fic did not take long to form. I did take some time to write it cause I wanted it to be as perfect as it possibly could be. Plus, my very first Black! Female Reader fic. Hope y’all enjoy!

Colorado Springs Police Department.

The sign just said it all.

Exhaling deeply, you began to walk towards the building. Your steps were slow, as if you were doubting yourself. And you could not help remembering the phone conversation you had with your friend Patrice an hour earlier.

“But Patrice! Why do I have to be the one to do it ?” You asked.

“Because you’re the one who saw it happen...” She said, “We can’t just let this go...” persuasion was strong in her voice.

“I know ...but-“

“Do you not want to go to the police Y/N?”

You paused. For she caught you there. “Maybe...” You began, as you twisted the phone chord “Can’t trust those pigs”

“Not all of them are...” Patrice said, “Ron isn’t a pig. And even his coworkers are nice”

You scoffed. “Maybe that’s cause they all know you through Ron”

“Just go will you” Sighing, you nodded to thin air. “Fine”

Unwilling to break the promise, there you were, walking towards the building. With another deep breath, you entered with a cause.

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

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

A man in uniform inquired upon seeing you in the hallway. Directed towards the Intelligence Division, you stood there confused in the hallway. You noticed his name tag: Sgt Trapp.

“Uh yes Sergeant...” you said softly, entering the room he gestured you into, “I’m here to see Ron Stallworth”

“Oh, I’m sorry but he’s not in today” Sergeant Trapp replied.

As you glanced upon the empty desk next to you, you realized he was right. Embarrassingly, you sighed heavily. But that realization came at a cost when there was a room full of men at work, possible detectives typing away reports in their typewriters. Yet now, they were all looking at you.

Except one particular person, who kept busy with his files.

All this staring made you quite uncomfortable. But being a black woman, this was nothing new.

“It’s just that...” you began “I was told to give a statement...” you continued, “... about the attacks that ...that happened last Friday” taking a deep breath, You added , “...during the Black Student Union meeting”

Suddenly, the sound of scribbles were stopped, and the occupied man looked up from his files. As you only saw his back, you could only notice the full head of raven locks that was filled with.

“Flip...” a grey haired man addressed the raven haired man, “...aren’t you working on that case too?” Standing up, Flip finally turned to face you.

“Yeah. Why don’t I-“ He paused, a few seconds upon seeing you, “...take...your statement” He said softly, his eyes never leaving your sight.

It had been a while since a man had left you with quite an impression. You thought you were so hard to please.

Until that very moment.

He was taller than the others in the room, almost gigantic. His dark blue flannel shirt along with the leather holsters complimented his wide shoulders perfectly. With his raven long hair elongating his face, you swore you were breathless.

And surprisingly, you weren’t intimidated by the room anymore.

“Flip Zimmerman...” he said in his deep, soothing voice, “Please. Take a seat” ushering you to Ron’s seat as the sergeant pulled it out for you.

“Thanks...” you replied, “Y/N Y/L/N”

Like a spell wearing off, the others quickly resumed working as Detective Flip Zimmerman took your statement.

His pace was comforting, you felt calm. You answered all questions with confidence and detail. But at the same time, you wondered how you were able to maintain that whenever he looked at you. You could tell he listened to you with intent. And whenever he was not jotting down notes, his eyes were always on you.

“...and just like that...they just ran off from there” you said, crossing your legs.

Reaching out to one of his files, Flip took out a photograph. “Did they happen to look like this?” He asked, showing it to you. In the effort to being polite, you merely leaned forward to look. Your eyes widened.

“Yeah! They’re the ones!” You replied with enthusiasm.

Snapping his fingers, Flip nodded. “Knew it!” He said, looking at his partner, “Jimmy, Ron was right...” he muttered softly.

Jimmy looked at you. “Okay...” he said, “Thank you Ma’am for coming in...I think we got all that we need”

“We did?”

“You did?”

Realizing you and Flip both inquired Jimmy in unison, you could not help but stifle a chuckle. And you hide it well. Clearing his throat, Flip began as he looked back at you.

“Yeah...we did” he said, standing up, “Thank you...Miss Y/L/N?”

Smiling warmly, you stood up in kind. “Yeah ...Miss Y/L/N...” You said, as you exited the room.

Smiles were abundant on your face as you walked out of the precinct, which was quite the contradiction compared to a few minutes before. Quite the interesting interaction it turned out to be. And you weren’t the only one to agree.

“Man...” Jimmy began, watching you walk out, “She is a beaut, huh?” “Mmm...”

Flip merely acknowledged as he sat down. Looking at his partner, Jimmy was no fool to not notice.

“Well well...look who’s getting chummy now?” he said, inciting a chuckle out of Flip.

“Fuck you, Jimmy” he said while laughing, trying to hide his subtle blush.

“No really Flip...“ Jimmy teased, “I’ve never seen you like this...”

“Fuuuck Youuu!”

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

Days went by. And all was just as it should be. You carried on with everything.

Except, there was a new distraction in your head.

Detective Flip Zimmerman. The Flannel Giant.

The mere thought of him made you smile to yourself every single time. So much that sometimes you’d get in trouble when others asked you what was wrong.

“Y’all! she found herself a brother to love. All good!”

You’d smile shyly and cleverly move on to another conversation. You did not know how everyone would feel about you having a soft spot for a white man. Let alone a white police detective. But it wasn’t for you to choose. You couldn’t steer the heart. The heart steered you. And you did not mind.

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

The soapy bubbles covered your hand like a glove as you washed the dishes over the sink. The radio softly played in the living room on a Thursday afternoon.

The ring of the doorbell forced you to finish the washing with haste. You wondered if it was Patrice, needing a textbook for class. Wiping your hands with your apron, you opened the door, only to find yourself lose your breath.

For it was Flip Zimmerman standing there.

“Ms. Y/L/N” he said softly, giving a soft smile. You involuntarily smiled back.

“Hey” you breathed, “Wait! How did you know where I live?”

“You gave it to us...” Flip said, “When you came to the precinct”

“Oh...of course”you chuckled embarrassingly at your own carelessness, “Please...come in...”

You found it surprising how you just let him in without even asking the purpose. He was just that easygoing.

“I’m sorry about this I was Uh...washing dishes...” you said embarrassingly as you invited him to sit on the sofa.

“Yeah Hehe...I can tell...” Nodding, Flip chuckled, watching you toss away the apron and sit on the armchair across from him.

The detective had come bringing forth good news. The two perpetrators behind the attacks were indeed members of the organization. Thanks to your valuable information they were arrested and will be tried. A huge wave of relief washed over you upon hearing the news. You couldn’t help but clasp your hands together with happiness.

“Oh, Detective Zimmerman, this is just wonderful”

“Flip...” he corrected in an instant, “you can call me Flip”

“Okay...” you nodded, “Flip” you added with the sincerest form of affection.

With lips parted slightly, Flip nodded back. As if he was in mid contemplation.

“Anyways, Thank You very much for your cooperation Ms. Y/L/N”

Your heart sank upon hearing those words, when he stood up to leave.

“I-I’m so sorry I couldn’t even offer you a beverage” you said, standing up“You came all this way-” “Oh no no...” shaking his head, the flannel giant responded, “I was in the neighborhood”

Unwillingly yet enslaved to politeness, you made your way towards the door.

With your grip on the handle, you knew this could be the last time you’ll ever see him again. The case was closed, faster than you imagined.

“Thanks do much for coming, Flip” you said, halfway opening the door. “My pleasure, Ms. Y/L/N”

“It’s Y/N...” this time you took the opportunity to correct him. “Y/N...”

His voice, you never heard it softer than you did just then. Standing merely inches away, he stood so tall before you. As your heartbeat began to quicken, as your cheeks started to burn, you knew the effect this man had on you was no joke. You did not want this to be the last time.

With the blink of an eye, his face seemed to appear centimeters away ,only to glue his lips on yours. And that was when you knew he felt the same.

The kiss was gentle. It was sweet and innocent. His facial hair sent shivers down your spine. But that just the first taste.

Lips were met once again for more experimentation, signaling your hand to push the door back and lock it tight.

The silent attraction that was developed between both parties from the first meeting seemed quite evident now.

Flip’s masculine hands made themselves home on your waist, moving behind to grab onto your buttocks. The way his hands felt you, made the white cotton of your short dress seem nonexistent when he pulled you closer to him.

Jumping into his arms felt effortless as he held you with ease. With your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, you were comfortable as expected, body lines fitting with his like puzzle pieces.

The sounds of heavy breathing and kisses began to infuse with the soft sounds of the radio. Making himself comfortable on the couch, Flip was hospitable with you straddling him.

The kisses grew heated as his tongue caressed your own, deepening its connection and weakening you by the knees. Your moans echoed within him, urging you to hold him tightly by the collar. Indulging in pleasure, your body was naturally inclined to roll your hips against him.

But, all plans seemed to fly out the window when the telephone rang loudly, forcing both of you to pull away with surprise. Stretching out, you clumsily grabbed the phone.

“H-hello?”

“Y/N? It’s Patrice”

“Oh hey!” You greeted her breathlessly, keeping your balance as you held on to Flip.

There was a slight pause.

“You alright?” Patrice sounded serious as she inquired , “You sound weird”

“Yeah yeah I was just uh....dancing”

Covering the bottom half of the phone, you playfully slapped Flip on the shoulder in order to stop him from breaking into loud laughter.

“Oh...anyways, you coming tonight for the party-”

“I’m busy...” you cut her off, “Sorry Pat. Busy night tonight”

Finally hanging up, you blushed deeply upon seeing Flip‘s eyes that burned with desire. For there you were, with lips so swollen, straddling a man you barely knew oh so casually. Shyly, you allowed yourself to fall back on the couch next to him.

“Well...” Flip began, panting “this was-”

“....unexpected?-“ you guessed, panting alongside him.

“...Great...” clearing his throat, he revealed his final answer ”...this was really great”

Giggles erupted out of you in response , only to stop when he leaned towards you. Fully meaning well of what he just expressed, his lips greedily captured yours, enabling you to catch his scent easily while doing so.

“Bet your partner is wondering what’s taking ya so long to get back” you breathed into his lips, as he pulled away once again “Do you think he knows something’s up?”

“Maybe..” he said, staring at the wall ahead of him in thought. “Or maybe...with the case successfully solved, you invited me out for a drink....” Flip added, looking back at you, fueling inspiration, “...only if you wanted to-”

“I want to...” Your answer, it was so quick, so certain. And hearing his response was simply worth answering.

“Good...”

——————————————————

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waywardnerd67 · 4 years

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The Queen’s Court - Chap 25 Safe

Summary: Dean makes a confession to (Y/N) that has her helping him explore a part of him he buried deep. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/Smut Word Count: 1715 Squared Filled: Feminization A/N #1: This is for @spnkinkbingo card A/N #2: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Check Out: The Queen’s Court Masterlist

The last couple of weeks had been the hardest for (Y/N). A powerful realization one night led to her making a lot of changes all at once. However, she pushed all of that from her mind when a knock came from her office door. A bright smile coming to her lips knowing who was on the other side. She stood up walking towards the door and opening it to reveal Dean Winchester looking ever like the proper suitor.

“Hi Dean, come in. I just need to clean up a little before we go out.” He walked through the door silently dressed in a dark gray suit, crisp white button-down and dark olive tie.

She made her way back to her desk putting away the papers she had been looking at. Glancing up at her date again, (Y/N) noticed him wiggling slightly within his suit. She bit her lip knowing the little secret that was held beneath his outwardly appearance.

Tonight, he was accompanying her to a charity event. As they walked around mingling, she watched as people took notice of him. Dean was the picture of masculinity with his broad shoulders, sharp jawline and muscular physique. He could bullshit his way through any conversation sounding like the smartest man in the room talking about stocks or the most typical man by reciting baseball stats. In short, Dean Winchester was an impressive man.

As the night went on, (Y/N) would watch as he would mess with his tie more often or place his hands in his pockets to adjust himself subtly. She found herself all too impatient to have the evening be over so she could take him back home and get down to the real reason for the evening out. To think a drunk confession was what led to all of this.

One Week Earlier

“Sammy tells me that he’s not going to come see you anymore.” Dean mentioned as they laid together after being blissfully sated.

(Y/N)’s heart launched into her throat, “H-He did?”

Dean’s fingers were tracing hers that were spread across his chest, “Yeah. He said that he decided to pursue someone else. I didn’t even know there was someone else, but apparently he likes some hunter chick that hooked up with Jody and the girls.”

“Really? What do you think about that?” A memory flashed from a few days earlier the conversation she had with Sam about them not seeing each other anymore. Her confession of the real reason why and his genuine understanding.

“I think it’s good. I’ve always wanted him to be happy with someone. Plus that means I can have more time with you.” Dean chuckled, “Hey I’m thirsty, do you want something to drink?”

(Y/N) nodded watching as Dean’s beautiful naked body trotted out of her bedroom and down to her kitchen. He was coming over to her house more often than the Queen’s Court now. He even had some spare clothes in her closet in case he had to rush off on a case. (Y/N) always felt whole whenever Dean was there with her.

She sat up when she heard him coming up the stairs. He was carrying the hidden bottle of whiskey she had and a mischievous smirk on his face. Her eyes traveled the length of his body unable to help but admire him as he walked towards the bed.

“I thought you were going to get a bottle of water or even a couple of beers.” She chuckled as he flopped onto the bed.

“Whiskey is the thirst quencher of them all.” Dean opened the bottle and took a long drink from it.

Over the next hour or so they passed the bottle back and forth. Talking about everything from strange cases to past sexual experiences. When the bottle was nearly empty, (Y/N) had just finished sharing her strangest experience with a customer that led to a kink of hers.

“What about you? Any kink you’ve never told anyone about?” she looked to see Dean’s cheeks bright red, “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

He chuckled finishing off the bottle, “When I was sixteen I ended up with an older woman named Rhonda Hurley. She wanted me to… to wear her silk panties. As I pulled them on I loved the way they felt on me. The soft material against my cock and how it held me all in place. The moment didn’t last long because she took them off me quickly.”

(Y/N) placed her hand on top of his, “Even after that moment, you found yourself wanting to wear panties like that again.”

Dean nodded, “Not just that. I found myself looking at women’s lingerie not to see them in it but imagination myself in it. I can’t believe I’m even telling you all of this. You must think I’m less of a man now.”

She took the bottle from him setting it on her nightstand and then straddled his hips, “I would never think of you or anyone else as less of a person for experimenting with their sexual fantasies. Lucky for you, I’m in the business of making fantasies come true. Do you trust me.”

“Yes.” His answer was immediate and filled her heart with joy.

Present Day

They were on their way back to her house in the back of a limo. His hand was resting on her thigh squeezing it tightly. His body was rigid as he stared out the window.

“Are you okay?” she was concerned that maybe she pushed him a little too much for the night.

Dean took a hold of her hand and placed it over his hard length. She sucked in a breath as she felt him grind himself against her palm. A deep sigh escaping his lips from relief of her touch. The rest of the ride was silent as the tension built between them.

Once inside her home, they kicked off their shoes at the door and (Y/N) threw her clutch on the small table with her keys. She grabbed his hand leading him up to her bedroom. Dean stood in the middle of her room for the first time seemingly unsure of himself. (Y/N) untied the knot of her dress letting it drift down her body revealing her bare body to him.

“Damn, if I knew that was all it took to undo your dress then I would have in the limo.” He let out a nervous chuckle as she approached him.

Silence fell between them as (Y/N) began undressing him. His suit was in a pile on the floor leaving him in the black, silk corset set with garters holding up the silky stockings and the grand prize his silk covered cock being restrained by a pair of bikini panties. She stepped back admiring his firm body adorned in femininity.

“You’re so beautiful Dean.” she whispered letting her fingers trail down the corset looking up to see doubt in his eyes, “I mean it Dean. You can be masculine and beautiful. You can be handsome and feminine. You’re a beautiful person, Dean Winchester.”

She lifted his bowing head to see his eyes blown wide with passion. She pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his waist pulling him closer to her. His hands traveled down her sides to under her buttcheeks.

“I need you.” He whispered as she nodded leading him to the bed.

Pushing him gently onto the bed, (Y/N) knelt beside him undoing the garter snaps. She pulled the silky stockings down his legs enjoying the small whimpers coming from him. She moved between his legs grabbing his hand resting on his stomach and placing it over his hard cock.

“Do you want to come inside your silk panties?” She watched as he rubbed himself with his palm.

“Y-Yes.” His breathy answer sent her own arousal trailing her thighs.

(Y/N) straddled his hips rubbing her slick mound over his cock. His hands immediately gripped her hips guiding her over himself. He was not going to last long after being worked up all night. She snapped her hips faster and harder over him. Grunts and whimpers filling her room as he came closer and closer to the edge of his release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he panted grinding himself against her until she felt his cock twitch against her coming inside his silk panties, “Fuck (Y/N)!”

She gently rubbed herself over him letting him ride out his release and then leaned down to kiss him, “How did that feel?”

“Amazing, fucking amazing.” He rolled her onto her back, “Now help me get naked so I can be inside of you.”

(Y/N) laughed, helping him unhook the corset, tossing it to the ground and slipping his soiled panties off. He knelt between her legs stroking himself with one hand and pushing two thick fingers deep inside her. Her back arched off the bed as he leaned over capturing one of her hardened nipples with his mouth.

“So good Dean… so good.” She mumbled as he continued pumping his fingers into her and suckling her nipple.

Her orgasm hit her suddenly as she cried out his name. Still riding out the pleasure flooding her body, Dean thrusted his cock in one fluid motion. He held her knees towards her head slamming into her at a feverish pace.

“God (Y/N) you feel so good. Always feel good, feel right. Always make me feel good.” He grunted pressing his forehead against hers.

“Harder Dean… I’m so close again.” (Y/N) panted, clawing at his back.

Sounds of skin smacking and moans filled the room as they both climaxed together riding their releases out until Dean collapsed beside her. (Y/N) wrapped her arm and leg around him snuggling against him.

“Thank you.” Dean quietly said after a few minutes of laying together.

“Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your fantasy.” She looked up at him and he pulled her lips to his for a soul shattering kiss.

His dark olive eyes connected with hers baring his soul to hers, “There is no one else in this world or otherwise I would want to be a part of my fantasies.”

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