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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

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when it’s wrong but it feels right ~ eminem

word count: 2452

request?: yes!

@noah1986 “hi again! I didnt know i had to write the idea for the story sorry!

Can you do Eminem where the reader works for him like as his assistant or housekeeper and he doesnt't interact a lot with her but thinks shes pretty and then he falls in love💓

thank you🧡”

description: in which he falls for his housekeeper, but he doesn’t tell her because he knows it’s wrong

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (marshall is 50 reader is late 20s)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Marshall never wanted to become the stereotypical rich celebrity. Coming from nothing made him more determined to stay humble about his sudden celebrity status and wealth. But, with his dedication to his work and his constant need to be away from home, he realized that he needed someone to look after his house. At Hailie’s insistence, he looked into getting a housekeeper for the times when he wasn’t home or too busy to take care of the place.

After a long line of interviews they narrowed it down to one candidate: a young lady named (Y/N). She had plenty of housekeeping experience having grown up the daughter of a housekeeper for famous people, and then her first job being the housekeeper at a hotel in Los Angeles that tended to house celebrities. Hailie figured she would be the safest option as her past with working with celebrities meant that she knew how to keep things a secret and they could trust that she wouldn’t take anything from the house.

On her first day of work, Marshall was in his home studio working on a couple of beats for an artist on his record label. The soundproofing in his studio made him forget she was even there until he came out to get something to eat and saw her putting away the clean dishes from the sink. He said hello, but noticed a wire coming from her back pocket to her ears and realized she was listening to music while she worked. It made sense, but he didn’t want her to think she couldn’t play her music out loud if she wanted to. He may not completely like the music depending on what it was, but he wouldn’t stop her from playing it.

He walked up behind her and tapped her shoulder to get her attention. She shrieked in response, spinning around and, in her state of panic, dropping the plate she was holding. It shattered on the floor, pieces of the broken glass scattering over the floor.

“Shit,” she swore, quickly yanking out her headphones and throwing them onto the counter. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you were even here. I didn’t hear you come up from the studio.”

“It’s okay. I probably could’ve announced my arrival in a better way,” Marshall responded.

He knelt down to start picking up the pieces of the broken plate, but (Y/N) quickly stopped him. “Don’t touch it with your bare hands. You’ll cut yourself. I’ll grab the broom and sweep it up.”

Marshall watched as she swept over the entire kitchen floor, making sure that not a single piece of the plate was left on the floor, before sweeping it into the pan and dumping the broken pieces into the garbage.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I’ll replace it, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marshall said. “It was just some cheap shit from Walmart that I’ve had for years. It probably would’ve broken if you washed it a little too hard.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I appreciate that. I promise I don’t often break things that belong to my employers. This is the first time I ever have, actually.”

“Well, you can’t exactly blame yourself. I startled you.”

“I shouldn’t have had my headphones in, but again, I forgot you were here.”

“You can play your music out loud, you know. I’m not going to stop you from doing that. I might judge a little bit depending on what type of shit you’re listening to, but I’ll try not to say it to your face too much.”

A small smirk crossed on her face. She unplugged the headphones from her phone and pressed play on the last song she had been listening to. The sound of Marshall’s voice filled the room. He realized it was a song from his most recent album. An amused smile tugged at his lips.

“I haven’t gotten to listen to the entire new album yet,” (Y/N) admitted. “I figured the best place to listen to it would be while I cleaned the house of the man who made it.”

“So you’re a fan.”

She shrugged. “Kind of. My dad always played your music when I was younger and we’d go for long drives. Mom hated it, but he just learned to play it when she wasn’t with us. I guess it just stuck with me ever since.”

They got to talking then. Hours passed and neither of them noticed. (Y/N) told Marshall about herself and her upbringing; her housekeeper mom who had brought her along to some of the higher status houses she cleaned, and her dad who was a well known mechanic in town. She told him that she wanted to be like her mom, so her first job as a teenager was housekeeping for a local hotel, which she ended up working for until she was hired by Marshall.

It wasn’t until the sun went down and the kitchen started to plunge into darkness that (Y/N) realized how much time had passed. A look of panic crossed her face. “Shit. It’s been hours and I haven’t done anything.”

“Hey, it’s fine. You can take the rest of the day off if you want. I’ll still pay you for the whole day and you can start fresh again tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

Marshall nodded. (Y/N) smiled and went to collect her things. “Thanks. I promise I won’t break any dishes tomorrow.”

Marshall chuckled and followed her to the door. They bid each other a goodnight and Marshall watched from the doorway as (Y/N) got into her car and drove off.

Marshall went back to his home studio to keep working, but found it hard to concentrate on what he was doing. His mind kept drifting back to his day with (Y/N). It had been such a long time since he spent hours just getting to know someone and not realizing the time. And it was a genuine conversation. He didn’t once feel like (Y/N) was viewing him like a celebrity. When she first told him she liked his music, he was worried about how things would go between them. Turns out, he didn’t have to worry.

But he also just kept thinking about her in general; the smooth, soothing sound of her voice, the dreamy look she got when she talked about her memories. In fact, just her beautiful face in general. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He couldn’t get her out of his head.

It was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. She worked for him, for a start. As his housekeeper, of all things. He didn’t want to be a rich cliché, and that especially extended to the “rich employer lusting over his young employee” bullshit. Which led to another big issue: her age. She was only a few years older than Hailie, and wasn’t quite Alaina’s age yet. She was quite literally young enough to be his daughter.

It was wrong, but fuck, he couldn’t help but want her.

So he started leaving whenever he came to work. Whether it was to go to work, into his own home studio, or just some excuse to go visit his daughters. Whatever the case, he had the least amount of interaction with (Y/N) as he possibly could. Which was hard when all he wanted to do was see her.

On one of (Y/N)’s off days, Marshall had decided to use the day to relax and catch up on some shows he had been watching. It was early in the day when he heard a knock at the door. Confused, he got up and went to answer. His heart dropped when he opened the door and found (Y/N) stood there.

“Oh,” he said. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you today. What are you doing here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said, crossing her arms. “I know I don’t really have any place to confront you about this, but it’s been bothering me and I need some answers.”

“I’m not avoiding you. I’m just busy,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

“Well, for one the look on your face right now says otherwise.” He looked away, which didn’t help his own argument. “And you told me the other day that you were going over to Hailie’s, but she came here looking for you shortly afterwards.”

Marshall wasn’t sure how to respond. He could’ve easily dismissed the claim and told her to go home. Like she said, she didn’t have any place to question his life. She was just his housekeeper after all, he didn’t owe her any explanation for his personal life.

But his heart wouldn’t let him. Looking at her stood there, concern on her face over the thought of potentially offending him, Marshall knew he couldn't just send her away. It was probably a bad idea, but he figured he couldn’t keep this secret anymore. In fact, it was probably better to tell her now so he could let her go and she could find a better employer.

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

She stepped into the house that had become almost more familiar than her own. Marshall led her back to his living room and gestured for her to sit down. She sat on one end of the couch while he sat on the other. They were closer than he had meant for them to be, but he didn’t want to change spots now, or ask her to do so.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said.

Marshall shook his head. “You didn’t do anything. Trust me, this issue is all me.”

He took a deep breath, hesitant at first, but decided to continue, “Since your first day, where we spent all that time talking and getting to know each other, I’ve found myself...thinking a lot...about you.”

(Y/N) looked at him blankly.

There’s no going back now.

“You are a very beautiful woman. I can’t deny that. But then talking to you on that day made me feel more like a person than I have in a while. I really enjoyed just talking for hours, and I would’ve liked to do that again. But...it’s wrong. I know that, and the last thing I’d want to do is make you feel uncomfortable. So, if knowing this changes your mind about wanting to work for me, I understand. I can find someone else, probably even help you find another job too.”

She still wasn’t speaking. She was still just looking at him, still with a blank look on her face. He wanted her to speak. He needed her to say something. Even if it was just to curse him out and call him some names. Any sort of reaction would’ve been better than this silent treatment.

She looked down at her lap and finally asked, “Can I kiss you?”

The question took Marshall back. His body acted before his mind could even process the question; he nodded. In a flash, (Y/N) was leaning across the couch and pressing her lips against his. It was a shock for the both of them. Neither of them really knew how to react. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she should keep it going, Marshall wasn’t sure if he should kiss back. It was awkward for a moment, until (Y/N) felt Marshall’s lips move against hers, followed by the both of them feeling an exploding feeling in their stomachs - like fireworks.

(Y/N) pulled away just as quickly as she kissed him, sitting back in the spot she had been moments before. They both looked at each other in shock, before mirroring smiled stretched across their faces.

“I really liked talking to you that day, too,” (Y/N) said. “At first, it was just this feeling of happiness that I was getting along so well with my new employer. But then you started leaving all the time or spending your time in the studio, and I felt myself becoming sad at the fact that I couldn’t see you. I knew that was a strange way to feel, but then I had this...” She trailed off, embarrassment written all over her face. Her sudden stop drew Marshall’s curiosity. She sighed and continued, “I had this dream about the two of us.”

Now she definitely had his curiosity.

“I realized that what I was feeling was more than just liking my employer,” she said. “And that realization, plus just generally feeling sad that I wasn’t getting to see you was enough to push me to come here today and confront you about it. I was worried it would go wrong considering I am just your employee and you’re not entitled to tell me stuff about your personal life if you don’t want to, but it was bugging me. I had to know why.”

“And now you know,” Marshall said.

She nodded. “Now I know.”

Silence fell over them for a moment. They didn’t make eye contact. There was a question lingering over them that they both knew had to be asked, but neither of them wanted to ask it.

(Y/N) soft voice broke the silence first, “Am I fired?”

Marshall shook his head. “I’m not going to fire you. That would look bad on your resume. But I do think it’s best for both of us if you start working somewhere else.”

Her face fell. “Oh.”

“I can’t date my staff. That’s just a shitty cliché I would never want to fall into.”

She perked up more at this. “Date?”

Marshall couldn’t help but smile. “That’s what two people who like each other do, isn’t it? They go on a date.”

The happiness radiating off of (Y/N) was contagious. She brightened up more at Marshall’s words. She almost looked like she was about to jump his bones right then and there, but he couldn’t let her. No matter how much he wanted her to, there was a matter that had to be dealt with first.

“I’ll help you find another place to work,” he told her. “Until then, we keep this relationship work based. The minute you have another job, I’ll take you out on the best date of your life.”

“That sounds like a deal to me,” (Y/N) said. “Before we shake on it, can I kiss you one more time?”

“Only if you tell me about that dream you had.”

(Y/N) gasped and playfully hit Marshall’s shoulder. He chuckled and grabbed her hand as she was pulling away from him, tugging her towards him so he could kiss her again.

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #one shot #request #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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sadhours · 4 months

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scumbag blues 3: turnin on the screw

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, misogyny, sex work, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected, facial, slapping, spitting

🤍🤍🤍🤍

Low thumping can be heard outside the bars doors, some crooning old country song plays muffled within the sticky walls of The Esquire Club. Daisy had a slow day. Every day has been slow lately. It’s about time to start picking up shifts at The Tender Trap again. The men of Stark County are being stingy or their wives are onto them. Or worse, they’ve grown bored of the easiest blonde in town. So here she’s resorted to showing up to the diviest bar in Dickinson, in hopes to make a couple bucks.

Inside The Esquire Club is dark, dim and buzzing bulbs placed like they meant for it to be hard to see. Drunk folk don’t see so well anyhow. Above the bar, there’s a fishing line hanging up a row of bras like a perverted string of Christmas lights. Not a single other vagina in this place, it’s the first thing she notices when she walks in. Which has Daisy seeing dollar signs. Imagines them above each balding head. Counts twenty of ‘em.

She smells like sweat and cheap perfume, cleaned the whole Inn with her ears peeled for that familiar ring of a bell that never came. Scrubbed the bathrooms with a toothbrush. Ironed every pair of sheets in the building. Then her Pops went to bed and Daisy changed into her sluttiest dress and cowgirl boots. Sprayed on some perfume a client gave her. Touched her makeup and walked the five blocks down to the bar. Thursday night. Means pool, she knows it’s busy.

Daisy sits up on a stool and shimmies out of her lace cardigan, tossing it up on the bar along with her purse. Another present from a client, worn at the strap. She’s certain it was purchased at the Walmart on the other side of town. The bartender smiles at her, doesn’t reach his eyes as he asks, “What’re ya drinking, sweetheart?”

“A Pabst,” she smiles, “Shot of whiskey and a pack of Marlboros. Lights.”

“You got it,” he taps the bar with his fingers before he mosies on to the end of the bar, opening up the drawer of cigarette cartons. Daisy digs in her purse for her wallet, pulling a crisp twenty from the pocket and places it on the bar, trades it for a black plastic ashtray.

The gentlemen places the pack of smokes in front of her, complimentary matches on top and slides over the bottle of beer. Pours her a shot of cheap whiskey and takes the bill. “Rest is for you, darlin’,” Daisy tells him as she tears the cellophane of the cigarette box and pulls one out, pressing the filter to her lips.

She feels eyes on her, waits for the fish to take the bait. This town knows her, knows what she is. She can’t figure out why they’re not barreling over with money in their fists. She lights the smoke and inhales deeply, missing the taste like nothing else. Daisy only smokes when she’s out. Scared that her papa would find out. She’s halfway done with the cigarette and still no one approaches her. It’s worrying, usually doesn’t take this long. Daisy pulls out her phone, aimlessly scrolls through different apps until she’s finished the smoke. Alright, looks like she’s gonna have to be more obvious. She downs the shot, chases it with a gulp of beer and turns to take in her options.

Then she feels a hand on the small of her back and lips on her ear. Thank God. She’s relieved, until she hears the most familiar voice purring, “Daisy Tallulah Way, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?”

She whips around to look at Gator, narrowing her eyes. He’s still in his vest. Seems to wear it all the time, like he’s never off duty or something. Tight white shirt underneath, biceps swelling underneath and Daisy’s gotta remind herself why she’s here. And how Gator’s discount puts it at the bottom of the list right now. Saved for desperation, if she can’t find someone else.

“Advertising, asshole. Would you get lost?” she bites back and turns back around, flipping her hair in his face.

Gator scoffs and then laughs, Daisy can’t help but face him again. He’s got this smug look on his face when he says, “Business been slow for ya?”

Looks like he has something to do with it. Daisy takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Gator. You been too busy running around for your daddy. Almost like you’re paying him for some ass, now.”

His face contorts in disgust and then he laughs, loud and deep as he takes a seat next to her.

“Gator, I’m not kidding. Fuck off, you’re gonna scare ‘em all away,” Daisy seethes at him, brow furrowed.

“Aw, don’t worry,” he shrugs, “I got a feeling no one’s gonna bite tonight. Besides, aren’t ya curious why I ain’t been around?”

“No,” she replies, reaching for the pack of cigarettes again. Though, she really is. She’s actually missed Gator. Besides, even with his discount and all, she’s down $1000 since he’s been awol. Not to mention, she hasn’t had an orgasm in two weeks.

“Shame,” Gator pouts his lips, “Here I thought you liked me.”

“Can’t stand you unless you pay me to,” Daisy rolls her eyes as she lights up another cigarette.

“Donny!” Gator calls, “Stark County Sheriff’s Deputy walks in and you forget how to do your fucking job?”

The bartender stops mid conversation with a patron as he stares back at Gator, grinds his molars something fierce before grabbing the bottle of Jack and walks back down to Gator’s end of the bar. Pours him a shot, leaves the bottle and sarcastically quips, “Sorry, your majesty.”

Daisy hates the way Gator’s power goes straight to her pussy. Hates the way he owns this fucking town. And especially hates the excitement she feels when he talks like that to people. She doesn’t get it. It’s not daddy issues like everyone says. Earl’s the best father anyone could have. But something has to cause the attraction she has to Gator’s general assholery. Perhaps she’s just stupid. It’s crossed her mind before.

Gator downs the shot and grimaces, “I’m courtin’ someone.”

It’s a knife in her heart. Deep and twists around. Though, it shouldn’t be. Gator told Daisy so many times how he wouldn’t ever date her, how she’s tainted, how his wife has to be pure and Daisy’s anything but pure. Forgets he paid her to take his virginity on his fucking eighteenth birthday. Made her promise not to tell anyone the fucking all star quarterback was a virgin. And it wasn’t like Gator couldn’t get it for free. There was a reason he showed up at the Inn that day. She’s been trying to figure out what that is since that day.

“Good for you,” she rolls her eyes, swiping the bottle of Jack and pouring herself a shot from it. Takes it with a straight face and turns away from Gator.

“She just transferred from Fargo. Works at the station,” he continues, arms on the bar top.

“I don’t care. I seriously need you to like, go anywhere else. I’m working,” Daisy says without turning to him.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s gonna solicit you for sex when I’m sitting here,” Gator sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. Daisy closes her eyes before she turns to him.

He smiles, biting his lower lip as she gives him her full attention. She wants to smack him across the face but she knows Gator likes that, so she won’t do it unless he pays her. She knows all his dirty, kinky little secrets so why is she letting him have all the power here? Because Gator can just as quickly turn it on her, arrest her and tell her dad just exactly what she does for a living.

“Tell me about her,” she says, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

He smiles, licking his lips as he drums his fingers against the bartop, “Name’s Faye. Smokeshow. Innocent as hell. Virgin, I’m pretty sure. Just took her home, had a nice date.”

“So it’s just been you and your hand the last two weeks… huh,” it’s Daisy’s turn to smile smug.

“Yeah…” Gator looks pensive suddenly, like he hadn’t thought about that. “She’s uh… not gonna offer none of that up unless she’s got a ring, I’m assuming.”

“Shame,” Daisy pouts, tilting her head. “I put out on the first date.”

“Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?” Gator argues and Daisy can’t hold back her laugh.

“Gator, honey, you been buying the milk. It ain’t free,” she pats his bicep, shaking her head with a bright smile. Gator scowls.

“You know what I mean.”

Daisy nods, still smiling, “Just ‘cause you’re in the market for a cow, don’t mean you can’t get some milk when ya need it. In fact, most the men buying my milk have a cow at home. But my milk is better. And who’s to say, Gator, that when you get that cow, that her milk’s not sour? Best to sample the milk before you buy the cow.”

“Dumb analogy,” Gator mumbles, defeated as he reaches over for Daisy’s beer and takes a swig.

“So I can expect ya back soon?” Daisy giggles, leaning against Gator’s bicep.

“Finish your beer, you can give me some of that milk at home,” Gator sighs.

—

Daisy’s been in Gator’s bedroom before. She’s helped him feed his snake before. But they were younger. Hasn’t been here in years. It’s quiet. Lonely. She knows he’s mostly alone here. Figures that’s why he’s at the inn several times a week. Likes the company more than the sex.

“Here,” he hands her a glass, full halfway of whiskey.

She takes it, sips slowly as she sits on the edge of his bed and looks around. It’s not changed at all since she’d been here last. Gator changes in front of her, into some pajama pants and a worn shirt. Hands her another to wear. She puts the glass on his metal nightstand and kicks her boots off. This is weird. Like he wants her to sleep over. It’s a long drive to the Inn but she doesn’t understand why he didn’t just take her there. Daisy pulls her dress up and over her head, exposing her matching lingerie set underneath. Gator lips quirk the side when he sees it. Smoothes his fingers against her thigh as he admires her body.

“Sexy,” he hums.

“Told ya, I was advertising,” she giggles.

“Reds a good color on you,” he mumbles, “almost a shame to take it off ya.”

“Then don’t,” Daisy replies, biting her lip, “Fuck me in it.”

Gator licks his teeth, “As tempting as that is…” he lifts the worn shirt he handed her, “I wanna fuck you in nothing but this.”

Daisy meets his beautiful brown irises, the look in his eyes takes the air from her lungs. Tender, almost. Something only Gator gives her, though it’s fleeting. He reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, then trails his fingers down to the lacy thong holding her hips and drags them down her thighs. She kicks them off and Gator lowers himself between her legs, on his knees at the floor. He spreads her knees and squeezes them, “Put my shirt on.”

Daisy pulls it over her head, letting Heather gray cotton fall down her chest as she loops her arms in it. Gator wraps his fingers around the backs of her knees and pulls her closer to the edge. Her head is swimming, no man has ever eaten her out and it seems like that’s where Gator’s going with this. He bites at her thigh, looking up at her with desire blown eyes. Gator looks so… pretty like this. His hair slicked back, soft clothes. Sleep clothes. Tender. Domestic. God, maybe all he wanted was this. Daisy wishes she could drop everything and give him exactly that. But Gator doesn’t ever pay for the girlfriend fantasy. Has he secretly wanted it?

Daisy smooths her hand over his head, attempting to mess up his gelled locks. “You look nice down there,” she whispers, cheeks flushing.

“Yeah? Should I be down between your legs more often?” He chuckles.

“Please,” she pleads.

Gator bites her thigh as he squeezes the other ones, “Maybe you oughta be paying me then.”

“Might have to if you’re any good at it,” Daisy quips.

Gator hums and plants sloppy kisses up her thigh until his mouth is dangerously close to her cunt. Daisy can feel his breath against her sex, her hips jerking toward him. Gator licks a broad stroke up her slit and she moans, a sound of surprise and pleasure. His tongue is firm and wonderfully soft at the same time. Gator treats her pussy like her mouth, makes out with it with fervor. Licking, kissing and sucking until Daisy’s rutting up against his face, leg hooked up on his shoulder and fingers ruining his slicked back hair. His nose brushes against her clit as he fucks her hole with his tongue.

“Gator! Oh, god,” she cries out, falling back against the mattress as she writhes in ecstasy. It’s a feeling like no other. Euphoria filling her veins, orgasm building rather quickly as Gator’s tongue files through her folds and flicks against her bundle of nerves. Wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, head nodding into the motion and Daisy’s practically weeping. Thighs against Gator’s ears, grinding up against his face. It’s soaking wet, her pussy absolutely drenched in slick and Gator’s saliva. Feels it dripping down to her asshole.

“Gonna— holy fuck, Gator!” she shrieks, her hands shoving his face against her cunt as her orgasm hits her like a train. She seizes, squeezing his head with her thighs as the waves of euphoria wash through her violently. “Fuuuck!”

Gator’s like a man starved, she can hear him groaning and moaning against her cunt while he licks and sucks. Finally, her body relaxes. Legs going limp as the grip on Gator is released. She brings her hands to her face as she catches her breath, body flushed the most beautiful pink.

He keeps licking at her sensitive clit and her body almost folds with the sensation, grabbing his head and pulling him back. “Fuck, Gator…”

He jumps up to straddle her, kissing her bruisingly as he grinds against her. He must’ve liked doing that because his cock is so hard, straining in his flannel pajama pants and catching on her spent clit. She whines into the kiss as she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She can taste herself on his tongue, can feel how his chin and cheeks are coated with her slick as he kisses her desperately. She grips his shirt at the hem on his back, pulling it up and over his head, breaking the kiss for a second while her fingers move to feel through the hair on his chest.

“Gonna pay me for that?” he mumbles against her lips, she can feel his turning up in a smile and she giggles back.

“God, I need the money but I can’t fucking take yours after that,” she replies, muffled against his mouth.

Gator laughs into her mouth as he grabs her hands and pins them above her head, lacing their fingers. “We can work out a deal,” he mumbles, grinding down on her, “I need something from you.”

“Fuck me, please,” she purrs, head still fuzzy and god damnit… she might be in love with this fucker. “Wanna make you feel like I do.”

Gator moans, pulling back so he can step off the bed. He pushes his pajama pants and briefs down, cock bouncing out and Daisy eyes it like it’s the only thing she’ll ever need. She sits up, grabbing Gator’s face and pulling him back into another heated kiss.

“S’cute… thinking I need your pussy,” Gator laughs into her mouth, “You gotta give me more about this Campbell fella…”

“Gator… I gave you all I could…” she mumbles back, reaching for his ass to pull him closer.

“Call him,” Gator purrs back, “Let’s set him up.”

Daisy’s dizzy on Gator. She’ll do anything for him so she says yes, hands tangled in his slicked back. She typically doesn’t make house calls but for Gator she will. And she’s in his bed anyways.

“Okay,” she pants, “fuck me and I’ll do anything.”

“Knew you would,” he purrs, running the head of his cock through her folds, “Just a greedy little cockslut, ain’t ya?”

Daisy would agree with anything at the moment, whatever it takes to get Gator’s thick, long cock inside her. She nods eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist and Gator drags his cock back down, catching the head on her hole and he sinks in with an excruciating slowness. Lets Daisy feel every inch sheathing inside her welcoming cunt. They both release sounds of pleasure, Gator’s a low grunt and Daisy’s a high pitched whine. Once he’s balls deep, he strokes her cheekbone with his thumb. Then, he steadies his palm against her flushed cheek and in time with a snap of his hips, he slaps Daisy’s face. Her eyes widen, looking up at him stunned. Another rule of hers is broken but in this state, she can’t yell at him. Her cunt clenches around him as she squirms, surprising herself as she demands, “Again.”

Gator obliges, eyebrows rising as his lips quirk into a smirk. His palm collides with her cheek again, harder than before and he grabs hold of her jaw afterward. Thrusting wildly, he forces her mouth open and spits down into it. Daisy swirls his saliva around her tongue, playing with it and feels her body shiver as Gator’s eyes darken with lust. He forces her jaw closed and seethes behind clenched molars, “Swallow it, bitch.”

Daisy gulps it down, moving her hands to his biceps and squeezing them between her manicured nails. Next, Gator’s hand travels down around her neck and he holds her tightly. Restricting her breathing as he drills his hips into her at a remarkable pace. Fucks Daisy like he’s angry at her, even looks like it as his eyes narrow and his brows furrow, mouth tight. Her eyes roll back in her head as pleasure takes over her body, coil tightening in her stomach as a second orgasm threatens to break her. Gator’s cockhead pummels her g-spot with a steady tempo, the perfect rhythm to get her over the edge. And as she’s about to jump over it, Gator stills. Tightens his grip on her throat as he bares his teeth, Daisy’s eyes flying open to catch it.

“You’re nothing but a fucking hole to me,” he spits out, “Understand?”

Sure, it stings but she was so close and she just needs him to go back to that beautiful pace he’d set. So she nods her head, dropping her hands from his arms and grabbing onto his sheets as she attempts to roll her hips up at him. Gator grunts, grabs hold of her thighs and holds them up before resuming the brutal thrusts that knock the air out of Daisy’s lungs. A long, breathless moan erupts from her as her eyes flutter shut again.

It doesn’t take her long, flying off the edge and howling Gator’s name as she goes. Screams so loud her voice goes hoarse, body shaking underneath him as her bliss rips through her senses. Gator follows suit, pulling out and inching up her body as he jerks himself a couple of times before he’s shooting his load over his face. Makes a whimpering, sweet noise as he does it. Daisy wipes his cum up with her fingers, bringing them to her mouth and sucks his spunk off them. He collapses next to her, breathing hard as his hand pats her stomach.

Daisy sits up, looks over at him and sighs, “Alright. Drive me back home.”

“I ain’t driving,” he mumbles, “Just sleep here.”

Just a fucking hole yet she’s spending the night in his bed.

—

The next morning, Gator makes her breakfast. It’s odd but there’s a stack of cash on the table. She assumes it’s hers. Pockets it as she sits down and looks up at him, “Breakfast for a hooker. You know that’s not necessary, right?”

Gator drops a plate in front of her, “Shut up and eat.”

She laughs softly before digging in, humming around the hashbrowns on her fork. Gator sits down across from her, starts to stuff his face when Roy bursts through the door. Gives Daisy a look before he quips, “Didn’t know working girls make house calls.”

“We don’t,” Daisy replies, tilting her head at Gator as she waits for the excuse to come from him.

“We’re setting up Campbell,” he grumbles through his eggs.

“Don’t bother,” Roy pats his sons shoulder, “I got a tip, we gotta go. Take your hooker home and meet me at The Tender Trap.”

“Kinda early for strippers,” Gator frowns, tilting his head.

Roy blinks at him, eyebrows raised as he glances between the pair, “You don’t seem to think it’s too early to pay for sex, you have the right to judge a man paying for the illusion?”

“Is it even open at 9 am?”

“No,” Daisy answers, avoiding Roy’s eyes as she continues to eat. Roy scoffs and nudges his son.

“Let’s get a move on, Romeo.”

Gator sighs and stands, grabbing his and Daisy’s plates before dropping them in the sink. In his cruiser, he tells her, “You can’t come to the house anymore.”

“You brought me there,” she defends herself and Gator scowls. The rest of the ride is silent. Her dads on the porch of the Inn. He gives Daisy a knowing look as she hurries up to the house.

“Sleepover with the deputy?” He smiles, “That boy is courting you, ain’t he?”

“No,” she smiles to her dad, turns and flips the bird to Gator before rushing inside.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fargo

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vampire-meta-knight · 1 year

Text

DIY Goth Shorts

Goths of Tumblr, grab your sewing needles and safety pins, because have I got a fun and easily-customizable project for you!

I’ve been gothifying shorts and pants for a couple years, now, and they’re just so much fun to make! Very affordable, too, since all the shorts I get are either thrifted or from Walmart. From then on, I add anything I see fit—patches (bought from Hot Topic and Etsy or DIY), beads, chains, safety pins, fabric paint, embroidery, charms, ribbon, lace, buttons—you get the idea. Lots of my lace trim comes from thrift stores, charms are easy to find in bulk online, you can get beads at Walmart or your local craft store, embroidery floss and needles can be found at Walmart and are cheap (and easy to learn how to use!), and if you don’t want to buy patches you can easily make your own by creating stencils with freezer paper (tutorials are on YouTube) and dabbing on fabric or acrylic paint with a sponge brush.

I’ve also tie-dye bleached and dyed some black shorts for a cool black-and-red and black-and-purple pair. I’ve customized long pants for colder weather, as well, which may get their own post if people are interested.

If all this sounds intimidating to a new crafter, worry not! I have some really simple pairs that took no skill. I don’t have pictures, but I have one pair that just has 2-inch safety pins on the hem and a chain pinned at the pocket. That’s it! No sewing, no painting, just pins!

I also have a pair that has sew-on-studs on the hem and one patch on the leg for a less-busy design if all the eclectic clutter isn’t your vibe.

Point is, you can add whatever you want to some shorts to make them uniquely yours. They can be as busy or plain, colorful or monochrome, girly or grungy as you like! Heck, they don’t even have to be goth. I encourage anyone who knows how to hand-sew or embroider to customize their clothes, no matter their style. It’s fun!

#goth subculture #gothgoth #goth diy #diy #goth fashion #goth #alternative fashion #mine

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supernaturalscribe67 · 7 months

Text

Sucker

Words: 6,602

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Language (had to tell Dean to shut the fuck up a couple times), brotherly bickering

Summary: The reader is introduced to Gabriel, the famous trickster/archangel, for the first time, much to his brothers' dismay. What the reader didn't expect from their first meeting was to meet a rather handsome man with smooth talk to match. What happens when he starts to get feelings for the person that annoys Sam and Dean the most?

Request:

Do you write for Gabriel as well? If so, could you write something about maybe the reader being Dean and Sam's younger brother (the relationship was really cute in "aginst the grain" and "lucky", i'd also love ftm reader, but it's up to you if you want to make it specific or not) and Gabriel finally meets him, making the other two go kinda protective over that, it's Gabriel after all, he has messed with them a lot in the past. They'd probably go especially uneasy if Gabriel gets kinda flirty or if so does the reader.

Anonymous

A/N: Someone take my computer away from me. Once I start writing, I can't stop. This wasn't supposed to be that long but holy Hell, I guess it's this long. I hope I did your request justice and I hope I wrote Gabriel well! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

(Y/N) loved having the first shower after a hunt.

The water was always hot, the perfect relaxer for his muscles that would undoubtedly ache the next day. Despite how long he had been hunting, certain aspects of the job made him feel like a rookie. Salt and burns were one example. That night, he had been tasked with helping Dean dig out the grave while Sam kept an eye out for security and any apparitions that would make a surprise appearance. For the first thirty minutes of digging the hole, he felt alive, like a rush of adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Perhaps the idea of committing a crime was to blame for that. Near the half-hour mark, he could feel the muscles in his arms beginning to strain, but the job had to be completed.

It took two hours to dig four feet to the coffin - he cursed the dry Southern weather for making the dirt so coarse - and by the end of it, his arms fell limp and weak at his sides. His legs felt some irritation from pushing the shovel into the ground, but they weren’t nearly as affected as his upper arms. He sent a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that the next hunt didn’t involve as much manual labor. If they did run into a ghost, he at least hoped the ghost held an attachment to an object that they could easily burn. Gravedigging was the last thing he wanted to think about.

He showered for forty-five minutes, longer than he had anticipated, but the water had placed him in an exhausted trance. Truth be told, he could have fallen asleep under the shower spray. He just hoped the cheap motel held enough warm water in their tanks for his brothers to experience some relaxation.

Motel towels were always scratchy on the surface of his skin. It was annoying, but there was some relief in knowing that the rough texture would guarantee a more thorough cleaning. Despite the cheap body wash he always snagged from the local dollar store, he never felt dirty leaving a motel bathroom. Once his body was dried, he put on his boxers and an oversized t-shirt, thankful for Walmart’s wide variety of sizes so he could conceal his chest. He placed both hands on either side of the sink, staring into the steam-covered mirror. He reached up, drew a small smiley face in the center of it, and watched as the eyes and mouth dripped. The warmth of the small room was comforting, and he was finding it difficult to leave.

A loud knock rapped on the door. “You gonna spend any more time in there? If I take a cold shower, I swear to God,” Dean’s voice came in muffled through the wooden door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t get your pretty silk panties in a twist,” he grumbled, and he could practically feel his brother’s eye roll through the door.

A sigh passed his lips as he looked at the smiley face he had drawn, which looked as if it had melted away in the hot sun. He reached a hand up and wiped the remnants of the picture away. As he retracted his hand, he could see his reflection in the opaque glass. Dark circles had begun to form under his eyes, a side effect from hunting. The endless, restless nights seemed to be getting to him and aged him more than he would have liked. He groaned as he straightened up, brought a hand up to his face, and ran his fingers over his eyes, nose, and cheeks.

When he opened his eyes again, instead of staring into a reflection that mirrored his presence, to his left, behind his shoulder, stood a man. Time froze. A playful smirk appeared on the man’s lips. He was short - compared to Sam and Dean, at least - with dark brown hair swept back neatly against his head. Stubble was placed along his jaw, chin, and upper lip. His sideburns were shaped with a slight point on the end of them, facing outward. He had a button-up shirt on, the top two buttons were undone to expose a small puff of his chest hair, and a dark green jacket.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as he stared at the man in the mirror. The air became heavy. He could feel his presence behind him, but he wouldn’t dare turn around.

“So, you’re the famous baby Winchester?” The man raised a brow.

His voice startled (Y/N). He turned around quickly and came face to face with the stranger.

“I’m a little surprised,” the man scratched his head. “I would have thought that you would look, you know, more like your brothers.”

(Y/N) could feel his heart pounding in his chest as if it was trying to escape. The fear bubbled inside of his gut. He had no weapons on him, yet the man didn’t seem like a threat. Nonetheless, there was a strange man in the motel bathroom with him. One who just appeared out of thin air. That was cause enough for alarm. His eyes glanced towards the closed bathroom door.

The man looked at the door and then back at (Y/N). “Oh, please don’t scream.”

“Sam! Dean!” (Y/N) shouted as he rushed to the door.

The man groaned and rubbed his temples. In the same instant that (Y/N) got the door open, the man vanished. (Y/N) stumbled out of the bathroom and into his eldest brother’s arms. Dean staggered, his back pressed against the wall. Sam stood next to them, a look of worry crossing his face.

“What happened? What happened?” Dean asked with alarm in his voice.

“There’s a guy! He-he,” (Y/N) turned to look behind him, a hand lifted to point in the direction of the bathroom, but stopped himself from talking once he saw that the man was gone.

Dean looked into the bathroom, brows furrowed. He and Sam stepped away from (Y/N) and toward the open door. Dean glanced inside, checking behind the door and in the shower. Dean threw his hands up.

“What guy?” He asked. “There’s no guy here, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Dean placed his hand over his chest as he walked out of the bathroom.

“There was a guy! He just appeared behind me!” (Y/N) said.

“Are you sure, (Y/N)?” Sam asked, doing a sweep of the bathroom from the doorway. “It doesn’t look like anyone besides you has been in here. There aren’t any windows, so no one could have gotten in. Are you sure you’re not just tired?”

“I saw him!”

“Sure you did, kid,” Dean walked up to him and clapped his shoulder. “Maybe you should lay off the horror movies for a while.”

“Now, that’s not very nice, Dean-O. No need to tease him like that,” the voice appeared in the center of the room.

All heads turned toward the sound of the voice. The man, who had been in the bathroom with (Y/N), stood in the center of the room. The playful smirk that had been on his face earlier was ever-present. (Y/N) grabbed Dean’s arm and moved closer to him. He pointed frantically at the stranger.

“That’s him! He was in the bathroom!”

Sam furrowed his brows. “Gabriel?”

Gabriel raised his arms in a presentation-type pose. “The one and only.”

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Dean asked, his tone more irritated than anything.

“Gabriel? As in, the archangel Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked his tense shoulders slouching as his body relaxed.

“Again: the one and only,” Gabriel smiled. “And, to answer your question, Dean, a little birdy told me that you were in town, so I figured I would stop by, and see my favorite Winchesters. Heard the youngest was here, and I thought it was about time we met. Although, I heard that you had a younger sister. Must’ve been a mistake.”

“Yeah, that’s a mistake alright.” Dean placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, you came in, you saw us, now can you please leave?”

“Woah, woah, what happened to hospitality? Why don’t you introduce me to your brother, here?” Gabriel sauntered over towards the three of them.

“No, now get out.”

“Not until an introduction is made.”

“Gabriel, we just got off of a hunt. We need some rest, now can you please leave?” Sam crossed his arms.

“Come on, guys, it’ll get him out of here so we can go to sleep,” (Y/N) mumbled before he turned to Gabriel. He held out a hand. “(Y/N) Winchester,”

“(Y/N),” he said the name as if testing it on his tongue. He reached out, grasped (Y/N)’s hand gently in his own, brought it up to his lips, and gave a small kiss on the back of it. “Gabriel. Nice to finally meet you.”

(Y/N) raised his brows, his cheeks heating up with blush. Dean rolled his eyes and swatted Gabriel’s hand away from (Y/N).

“Alright, alright, none of that,” Dean grumbled, sending a death glare toward Gabriel. “You know his name, now get out.”

Gabriel ignored him, his eyes stuck on (Y/N). “So, (Y/N), aside from being good-looking, what do you do in your free time?”

Dean and Sam both groaned and rolled their eyes, shaking their heads. (Y/N) felt his chest warm up the same as his face. He glanced down and fiddled with his fingers. Gabriel licked his lips, the corner of his mouth curling up into a smirk.

“Cat got your tongue?” He questioned.

“Well, I’m trying to think of something to say, but all I can think about is how cute you are.”

Gabriel looked at him, amused shock crossing his face. He straightened up for a minute, but, before he could say anything, Dean held his hands up.

“That’s enough,” Dean interjected, glancing at (Y/N) and then at Gabriel. “Leave.”

“But I’m having such a nice conversation,”

“Gabriel,” Sam spoke up, moving between (Y/N) and Gabriel, towering over him. His voice was low, intimidating. “Go.”

Gabriel raised his hands in mock surrender. He snapped his fingers and disappeared in front of the brothers. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave,” Gabriel’s voice came from behind the trio.

They all turned around. Gabriel stood right before (Y/N), eyes attached to him. He reached behind his back for a brief moment and pulled it back around. In his hand was a red rose with a short stem, free of prickles. He held it out.

“A parting gift, for you.”

(Y/N) hesitantly took him, a small smile on his face. “Thank you,”

Gabriel shrugged. “I know it’s not as beautiful as you, but it’s the best I can do for now.”

“Gabriel,” Dean warned.

“I’m going, I’m going.” Gabriel shook his head. “I hope to see you again soon, sweetheart,” He pointed at (Y/N).

“We’ll see.”

Gabriel winked before he snapped his fingers and disappeared from the room.

The room was quiet aside from the faint humming of the cheap air conditioner. (Y/N) studied the rose that Gabriel had given him. It appeared freshly in bloom, the red petals curled at the ends, the floral scent evident even from a distance. The stem was slightly wet from being cut. (Y/N) brought the flower to his nose and inhaled the intoxicating smell as he turned around to face his brothers. When he looked up, he immediately noticed the ‘if looks could kill’ gaze in their eyes.

“What?” (Y/N) asked and shrugged.

“Really?” Sam asked.

“What?”

“You know,” Dean began. “I’ve stopped butting in when you flirt with someone at a bar, or when you want to take someone back to a motel. I’ve learned to shut my mouth. But Gabriel?”

“Geez, you two are acting like I’ve slept with him.” (Y/N) scoffed, brushing past them as he walked toward his bed.

“Ooo, all I can think about is how cute you are,” Dean mocked.

“Will you shut up!?”

“He’s an archangel, (Y/N).” Sam nodded. “And you see no problem with flirting with him?”

“What? I can’t flirt with who I want now? It’s not like he’s a bad guy…technically.”

Dean sighed. “He’s off limits, (Y/N).”

“I’m an adult, Dean! I can flirt with whoever I want.”

“Not an angel! I mean…come on. Don’t you remember what he did to us? To Sammy and me?”

“Look, Dean, I get it, trust me, but it was just some comments, okay? Like I said, it’s not like I hooked up with him or anything. He just flirted with me so I flirted back. Took a page out of my Dean Winchester book of flirting.” (Y/N) walked over to the bed and sat down on the side of it. “You don’t have to worry about him, okay? Now, why don’t you guys just take your showers so we can go to bed and head out in the morning.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. He let out a huff as he turned to look at Sam. They stared at each other, but said nothing, as if they were talking to one another telepathically. Finally, Dean shook his head.

“Fine, but I get the next shower,” Dean mumbled as he sauntered over to the duffel bag that sat beside the queen-sized bed opposite (Y/N).

“Dean, I called the next shower,” Sam frowned.

“Too bad, can’t get next shower if I get there first,”

Sam glanced at the door to the bathroom, his duffel bag which sat at the table, and then Dean. Dean grabbed his night clothes from his bag and began to make his way over to the bathroom. Quickly, Sam rushed to the bathroom. Dean picked up his speed and the two of them wrestled in the doorway for a moment, mumbling to one another. Sam eventually pushed Dean out of the way and slammed the door shut, the cheap wood vibrating against the frame. Dean growled.

“How the Hell are you going to get out of there without your clothes, bitch?” He called through the door.

“I’ll figure it out, jerk,” Sam’s muffled voice replied.

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes before he sauntered over to his bed and slouched on the edge of it. “Can you believe him?” He gestured to the door dramatically.

(Y/N) snorted. “I think you’re both idiots,” he reached down and pulled the comforter away from his body, pushing his legs underneath. “Now hush while I get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight,” Dean grumbled.

“Goodnight, Dean,”

*~*

The rumble of the Impala’s engine was silenced over the deafening sound of Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”. Dean sang in an off-key tune as he drove, Sam tried to ignore him in the passenger’s seat, and (Y/N) blocked everything out, deep in thought as he leaned against the back passenger’s window. He was staring off into the distance, at the long line of trees and bushes they passed, but none of it registered. His mind was elsewhere.

He was thinking about Gabriel.

It had been a week since their interaction, and, for the life of him, he couldn’t keep the angel out of his mind. He never had someone who showed as much interest in him as Gabriel, and (Y/N) hadn’t lied. Gabriel was pretty cute. Was it the way the smirk seemed permanently etched on his lips? Perhaps the way his flirtatious remarks flowed out as smoothly as they did. Maybe it was in the look in his eye when he asked to see him again.

Regardless, there seemed to be nothing that could take Gabriel off of his mind.

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s boisterous voice echoed through the car.

(Y/N) jerked his head up to look at his brother in the rearview mirror. He hadn’t even noticed the music had been turned down, now softly playing in the background.

“What?”

“Man, I’ve called your name about ten times. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just…thinking.”

“Yeah, I know that takes a lot out of you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” (Y/N) scrunched his nose as he reached over and lightly kicked the back of Dean’s seat.

“Hey! Be nice to Baby! She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Yeah, well, she was caught in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Sam’s pretty sure we have another ghost case.”

(Y/N) groaned. “Another one?”

“Yeah, just a simple salt and burn.” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Apparently this young couple, who just bought their house, has been reporting paranormal activity at their place. The husband’s mother even came to stay with them for a little while and, while she was there, she claimed that someone pushed her down the stairs when she was going to do laundry in the basement.”

“So? Her son tried to kill her to get the life insurance money. Doesn’t sound like a ghost hunt to me.” (Y/N) said.

“Husband was at work, and so was the wife. They even have alibis and security footage to prove it.”

“Okay, so then the mother’s old and cryptic and just fell down the stairs. Old people fall down the stairs every day, that’s why Life Alert was invented.”

“She’s forty-two.”

“Jesus, how old is her son?”

“Twenty-one. His wife is twenty. High-school sweethearts according to what the newspaper says.”

“Gross.” There was a pause. “I still don’t think it sounds like our thing. Maybe we should check something else out.”

“You’re not getting out of the salt and burn, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) groaned and leaned back in his seat, arms crossed lazily over his chest. “Fine! But I’m not doing the digging. I’ll be on guard duty.”

“No,” Dean said. “I’m going to be on guard duty this time.”

“Why?” He whined childishly.

“Because I helped dig the grave the last two times. We take shifts, remember?”

(Y/N) shook his head. He placed his elbow on the window sill and put his cheek into the palm of his right hand. His forehead leaned against the glass.

He thought back to Gabriel. The carefree attitude he seemed to have, even with the intimidating act that his brothers put on. He was an archangel, of course. Thinking about it, (Y/N) knew that Gabriel could do anything with them - he had proven that when he forced Sam and Dean into the TV universe - yet he did nothing of the sort, even when Dean had slapped his hand away from (Y/N). He seemed like a good person - angel? - and (Y/N) would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see him again. He knew that if anyone could lighten his mood from the sour situation they were driving to, it would be Gabriel.

An arm slowly snaked its way around (Y/N)’s shoulders. He jumped, eyes wide as he turned his head to the side. Sitting next to him, in the back of the Impala, was Gabriel, the same smirk on his face that was present the first night they met.

“Heard someone needed some company,” Gabriel said.

Dean visibly jerked, his hand turning the wheel of the car violently. The Impala lurched to the side, into the oncoming lane, before he corrected himself and straightened the car out. Everyone shifted in their seats with the movement. Dean slammed on the brakes, the rubber screeching against the road as the car halted. Dean and Sam’s heads whipped around, their eyes wide with surprise. Gabriel was leaning back against the leather seats, legs slightly spread, one arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders while the other rested at his side. (Y/N) could feel his heart pounding in his chest from a mixture of the sudden movement of the car and Gabriel’s touch.

“Woah, Dean-O. Gotta be careful. You’re lucky there’s no traffic,” Gabriel chuckled.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Dean asked, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“A little birdy told me he was lonely. A little stressed,” Gabriel turned his head to look at (Y/N). He leaned closer to him. “Miss me already?”

Dean and Sam’s eyes shifted to their brother. (Y/N) felt the familiar heat appear in his cheeks and spread to his ears. Sam furrowed his brows.

“You prayed to him?” He asked.

“N-No! I didn’t!” (Y/N) defended.

“Wrong,” Gabriel hummed. “You know, every time you say my name in that pretty little head of yours, it comes straight to me,” Gabriel reached over and tapped on (Y/N)’s temple gently. “My prayer line has been buzzing nonstop since I last saw you.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks darkened even more. Gabriel had practically outed him to his brothers, completely contradicting what he had told them back at the motel. That they didn’t need to worry about him. That the flirty comments he made was a natural response. Now his brothers know that Gabriel had been on his mind. Now they knew that they had something to worry about.

Dean’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Eventually, he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, undoubtedly trying to clear his mind. When he opened his eyes, he pointed at his brother.

“You. We’ll talk later.” He turned to Gabriel. “You. Get out.”

“Aw, come on, Dean, let me ride for a little bit. Make your brother feel better,” Gabriel rubbed (Y/N)’s arm.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “No. Get out.” His voice was deep, dark.

Gabriel scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go. Again.”

“Good,” Dean turned around eyes back to the empty road in front of him. His hands returned to the wheel, clenched tight enough to make his knuckles a ghostly white.

Gabriel glanced at (Y/N) with an apologetic expression before he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his clenched hand and held it towards him. As he opened his hand, (Y/N) could see a small candy heart in the middle of it, colored pink. In the center of the heart Be Mine was printed.

“Another parting gift. A sweetheart for a sweetheart.” Gabriel smirked.

(Y/N) smiled and took the heart. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sugar.”

“Leave Gabriel,” Dean bellowed.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He grumbled. He looked back at (Y/N) and winked. “I’ll see you later.”

He snapped and, once more, he was gone.

(Y/N) glanced down towards the candy. It was one of those cheap candies that you got from Walmart when you wanted to give something out to your classmates for Valentine’s Day. Despite the cheap appearance, the message on it was worth more than anything. It validated any emotions that he had for Gabriel. The mere idea that Gabriel felt the same way as he did made his heart soar, the butterflies swarming inside of his stomach. With a small smile, he closed his hand around the heart and placed his hand in his lap.

It was then that he noticed they hadn’t resumed their drive yet. He looked in the front seat to see both of his brothers staring at them, unamused expressions on their faces. The smile (Y/N) had turned into an awkward grin, his shoulders tensed. Sam and Dean looked at one another and conversed in that telepathic communication that they always do before they wordlessly turned back to the road. Dean glanced one more time in the rear-view mirror, shook his head, and then started down the road again.

(Y/N)’s shoulders slumped and he turned to the window. He placed his elbow on the window sill and his cheek in the palm of his hand.

It was going to be a long night.

*~*

I fucking hate ghosts.

His muscles hurt worse than last time. If he didn’t know any better, he would say his arms felt as if they were going to fall off. His calves ached a bit, but not nearly as bad as his biceps.

The hunt took longer than expected - most of the graves in the cemetery they had gone to were unmarked, souls long since forgotten by the people who had buried them. The records in the cemetery’s office weren’t much help, either. The three of them spent two hours trying to find the grave that belonged to the ghost, two more hours digging up the plot with major pushback from the spirit, and an extra hour attempting to leave the cemetery without getting caught - apparently, grave robbers were a common occurrence in that small Maryland town.

Even the morning after, (Y/N)’s entire body ached and was stiff. It felt like every part of him had been put through a meat grinder. When he moved, his muscles tensed and burned as if he were on the surface of a thousand suns. His brothers felt bad for him, in a way. They could see how hurt he was and decided to let him rest while they went out to get some breakfast, some greasy diner food that all of them, even Sam, desperately needed.

As (Y/N) lay in his bed, still clad in his sleepwear from the night before, to ignore the aches and pain, his mind shifted to a familiar thought; Gabriel.

The same thoughts that had been invading his mind for the past two weeks entered his head seamlessly. The thoughts of Gabriel’s words, his flirtatious tone, the way his hair was swept back, the way the corner of his lips curled into a smirk whenever he would look at him, and the glimmer that danced in his irises. While Gabriel took up most of his mind, another thing that (Y/N) couldn’t get out of his mind was Sam and Dean. He thought about their disapproving gazes, the irritation in their tone as they talked to or about Gabriel, and the shake of their heads when Gabriel finally vanished.

His brothers weren’t shy when it came to their objections. When they had gotten into town for the hunt, Sam and Dean made sure to speak out about the situation. (Y/N) felt as if he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dean was the one that was mostly vocal with Sam taking a back seat and butting in now and then. While (Y/N) could appreciate that his brothers were looking out for him, he stood strong on the fact that he was an adult. He could make his own decisions. Gabriel was an angel. It wasn’t as if he was flirting with a demon. He knew his brothers would have a conniption if it was Crowley instead of Gabriel. Still, (Y/N) was their little brother. He had a feeling that they were going to be protective no matter who he showed interest in.

That wouldn’t stop him from trying to pursue Gabriel, though.

In the two instances they met, Sam and Dean had been in the room with them when they talked, leaving little to no time for them to have an actual conversation or get to know one another. Granted, Gabriel must know more about him than anything, considering the lack of privacy he had in his head. That only gave him more of an incentive to learn everything he could about the archangel.

He had to talk to Gabriel alone.

(Y/N) had never prayed before. He always left his brothers to the praying when they needed Castiel involved. It was a new experience, and he didn’t even know how to start.

Slowly, (Y/N) adjusted himself on the bed so that his back was pressed against the wooden headboard. He placed his hands in his lap, slightly folded.

“Um…Gabriel…” he trailed as he tried to think of how he could continue. “Uh…it’s me. (Y/N). I think we need to talk.”

“You know, the last time someone said that to me, it didn’t end well,” Gabriel’s voice came from in front of him, near the end of the bed.

(Y/N) let out an audible gasp, startled. His throbbing muscles tensed for a moment before they relaxed, a shot of pain coursing through his body.

“Jesus, we need to put a bell on you angels,” (Y/N) mumbled.

“I’ve been thinking about that. Do you think it’ll look good on me?” Gabriel pursed his lips and dramatically posed.

(Y/N) snorted and shook his head as he chuckled. Gabriel joined him and walked over to the bed, sitting down. The bed dipped.

“I can see your bodyguards aren’t here.”

“Yeah, they went out to get some breakfast a bit ago.”

“Well, that’s good. Now I can talk to you without getting kicked out. What did you want to talk about anyway?”

“Well-”

“My handsome good looks?” Gabriel smirked.

“Uh-”

“How about my smooth talking?”

“Gabriel-”

“What about the way you get butterflies in your stomach when you’re near me?” Gabriel placed a hand on the bed and leaned closer to him.

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks heat up once again. The butterflies Gabriel referenced swarmed. He looked away for a moment before his eyes shifted down towards his hands in his lap.

“Gabriel.”

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?” He moved his eyes to him.

Gabriel seemed surprised by the question at first, straightening himself up.

“I mean…” (Y/N) paused, attempting to collect his thoughts. “You flirted with me back at the other motel, you had your arm wrapped around me in the car, you’ve been listening to my thoughts, er, prayers, I guess. Is this just…a flirty little thing that you like to do or…are you really interested in me?”

“Of course I am,” Gabriel shrugged. “I mean, you don’t see me flirting with your brothers, do you?”

“No.”

“Casual flirting isn’t normally my thing. When I flirt with someone, I really, really like them, and I really, really like you.” His voice was deep and smooth like velvet.

(Y/N) smiled, his eyes never leaving Gabriel’s face, despite the bashful need to do so. “Well, I hope it helps that I really, really like you, too.”

“Oh, trust me, I can tell,”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Gabriel chuckled as he reached over, his hand gently caressing his cheek. Their lips connected without another comment. (Y/N) closed his eyes and, almost immediately, melted into the kiss. He could feel a warm, tingling sensation course through his body, touching down his arms, torso, and legs. Their lips moved in sync. (Y/N) raised his hands, his fingers entangled in Gabriel’s silky hair.

(Y/N) pulled away before he wanted to, the need for air overwhelming. He stared deep into Gabriel’s whiskey eyes. It didn’t take long before that smirk reappeared. (Y/N)’s thumb gently brushed over Gabriel’s scruff.

“Your kiss is even sweeter than you are,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone.

“Oh, please, nothing is sweeter than me,”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Kiss me again.”

“With pleasure.”

Gabriel leaned in and kissed him once more. He moved onto the bed so that his legs were on either side of (Y/N)’s body and he hovered over him. (Y/N) took the time to wrap his arms around Gabriel’s neck gently. They tilted their heads to the side, deepening the kiss.

(Y/N) had his fair share of kisses before, a handful of them drunken mishaps at various bars across the country, but never like the one he had with Gabriel. There was something special about it. Something that made him melt into the bed. That attracted him further to Gabriel. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wasn’t going to fight it.

Although, someone might.

The door to the motel room opened. The stench of cheap breakfast food wafted into the small space as Sam and Dean entered. They froze for a moment, eyes wide in shock at what they had walked in on. It didn’t take long for them to break the trance.

“Hey!” Dean shouted as he rushed over to the two of them.

Just as they broke the kiss, Dean grabbed the back of Gabriel’s shirt, pulled him off of the bed, and pinned him against the wall. The cheap lights flickered at the force of the impact.

“Dean!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he quickly stood from the bed.

Before he could pull his brother away, Sam grabbed him by the arm, pulled him close, and wrapped his arms around him protectively.

“What did I tell you about leaving my brother alone, huh?” Dean slammed Gabriel against the wall again, though he seemed completely unphased by it.

“Now, Dean, if you haven’t noticed, your brother is more than capable of making his own choices.” Gabriel’s voice was calm, almost playful.

“Yeah, with humans. Not with you.”

“Now what have I ever done to you, Dean?”

“What have you done?” Dean let out a dry laugh. “What have you done?”

“Dean! Stop! You’re gonna get the fucking cops called on us!” (Y/N) hissed between clenched teeth.

“And you!” Dean let go of Gabriel’s shirt and turned around to face (Y/N). “What happened to ‘oh, you don’t have to worry about anything, Dean, it was just for fun’,” he mocked (Y/N)’s voice harshly. “And then Sam and I come in and see you sucking face with an archangel!?”

“First of all,” (Y/N) wiggled his arms out from Sam’s grasp. “Get off me,” he mumbled and pushed firmly on Sam’s chest. Sam’s feet were firmly planted, but he removed his arms from around his brother. (Y/N) backed up a couple of steps and brushed his shirt off. “I told you, Dean, I’m an adult and I can make your own decisions! And who the Hell says ‘sucking face’ anymore, anyway? What is this? 1980?”

“The point is, you told us you weren’t going to do anything and here you are…doing something!” Dean pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Dean’s right, (Y/N),” Sam shook his head. “You know, we support you in everything that you do, but Gabriel?”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Gabriel appeared behind (Y/N).

“Good, I hope you do,” Dean said.

(Y/N) groaned. “You guys are acting like you walked in on me having sex with him or something! It was a kiss!”

“His tongue was in your mouth, (Y/N),” Dean spoke with a hint of disgust.

“Shut the fuck up, Dean!”

“Alright, alright, hey,” Sam held up his hands. “Look. All we want to do is look out for you, okay? It’s our job to protect you.”

“And I want you guys to keep protecting me,” (Y/N)’s shoulders slouched. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to. I like Gabriel, okay? I really do. And it’s not just some hook-up in-a-bar kind of feeling. It’s feelings-feelings. You know? The things we never talk about? I can’t explain it, but I feel…a connection to him. Like Dean feels with Castiel.”

“Woah, woah, hold on. I don’t feel that way with Cas.”

“Dean, we all know you do,” Gabriel spoke up, shaking his head.

Dean clenched his jaw. “I don’t wanna hear another word out of you.”

“Look,” Gabriel began. “I’d never do anything to hurt your brother. I know I haven’t been the, well, nicest with you two. But I like (Y/N),” Gabriel shrugged. “I’d like to get to know him more, and I know that he would like to do the same.”

Sam and Dean stared at Gabriel, their eyes piercing. They never blinked, as if studying him. Sam leaned over to Dean.

“Dean, I think he’s telling the truth,” Sam spoke in a low voice.

Dean looked at Sam with furrowed brows. “Really?” His tone was defensive. “How do you know he’s not lying?”

“Dean, (Y/N) is right about the fact that he’s an adult, okay? Maybe we should just…take a backseat on this?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I hate this just as much as you do, Dean, but you know that even if we disagree with is, (Y/N) is just going to find a way to see him anyway.”

“Not if we handcuff him to one of us,” Dean mumbled.

“I’m right here,” (Y/N) crossed his arms.

“The point is,” Sam said. “If Gabriel is serious, what better person besides us to protect him than an archangel? I mean, we have Cas, yes, but Cas isn’t an archangel.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but was having a hard time coming up with an argument to shoot back at his brother’s statement. Instead, he sighed as he reached a hand up and ran it down his face. He could feel a headache coming on. Silence flooded the room as the four of them stood there.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. “I won’t say anything about Gabriel coming around. But I don’t wanna walk in on anymore face sucking.”

“No face sucking or any other kind of sucking while sharing a room, got it.” (Y/N) smiled.

Dean shot him a look of disgust before he turned to Gabriel. “And you. If you hurt him-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Fire and brimstone and pitchforks and torches. You’ll have the whole Winchester Army after me,” Gabriel waved his hands around dramatically. “I get it. You have my word that I will never hurt your brother.”

“Alright, now get out of here before I change my mind.”

“I won’t fight you on that,” Gabriel turned to (Y/N). He reached down, grabbed his hand, and placed a small kiss on his knuckles. “I’ll see you later, sugarplum.”

(Y/N) snorted. “See you later, Casanova.”

Gabriel winked before he snapped his fingers and vanished.

With a smile still on his face, (Y/N) turned to his brothers. “Thank you guys, really.”

“Well, we trust you, (Y/N),” Sam said. “We don’t trust him, but we trust you. And we trust that, if anything were to happen, you would come to us if you need help.”

“Of course I will. You’re my brothers. I make a mess, you guys clean it up.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’ll be the reason why I get gray hairs early in life,” Dean mumbled as he sauntered over to the small table near the motel door, opening the bag of breakfast food which was probably cold by then.

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he walked over to him. “Oh, you mean, these gray hairs?” He reached up and brushed the back of his brother’s hairline, finger gliding through the sandy blonde hair.

Dean reached back quickly and cupped the back of his head. “What!?” He exclaimed.

Sam snorted and (Y/N) let out a boisterous laugh. Dean’s jaw clenched as he lowered his hand to his side.

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

“I thought so, old man.”

“You better watch it, bitch,”

“Aw, I love you, too, Dean,” (Y/N) wrapped a single arm loosely around Dean’s middle. He then motioned Sam over. When Sam was close enough, (Y/N) wrapped his other arm around him. “And I love you, Sammy.”

“Love you, too, (Y/N),” Sam smiled and returned the hug.

Dean looked down at his brother and mumbled something under his breath before he patted him on the back. “Yeah, yeah, love you too, kid.”

“I couldn’t ask for better brothers than you.”

…

“Alright, enough of the chick-flick moments. Let’s eat.”

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theloveoftoms · 2 years

Text

its alright - e. hunt x reader

summary: while staying over at your boyfriends house, you get your period. basically just ethan hunt being the gorgeous and perfect and comforting guy that he is.

t.w: periods, if that grosses you out, this probably isn the fic for you 🙄

a/n: hello lovlies!! I hope your all having a great day, and thank you so much for clicking on this post! it is seriously so cold where I live, there is snow and it feels kinda like Christmas🎅 the grammar in this is probably whack, thats because Im trying to write a history essay right now and all of my 'grammar-ly thoughts' are going into that. sooooo, enjoy whatever this story is! ✌️😚

Last night was the first time you had stayed over at your boyfriend, Ethan's house. Now of course you had slept over before, but last night was the very first time that the two of you had actually orchestrated plans for you to stay over. Instead of scavenging his bathroom cupboards for an extra toothbrush or some form of cleanser that wasn't a 3 in 1 wash for face, hair, body, groin, feet and lord knows what else, you had packed all of your cosmetics and a comfy pair of pjs to sleep in. However, you didn't exactly wear the pyjamas for very long upon your arrival.

When you woke up, it took you a moment to realize where you were. The feeling of Ethan's arm wrapped loosely around your waist and the sun filtering through the blinds in the way similar to that of a Monet painting reassured your busy mind as the memories from last night played over in your head. Fall was in full bloom outside, and you felt warm and safe beneath the covers. That is, until you moved from your side onto your back.

As you pivoted beneath the sheets you felt a unwanted but yet familiar gush in-between your thighs. Your heart rate began to rise, and the pit of your stomach began to sink as you noticed the damp sensation in your underwear. You slowly pulled back the sheets, shimming your hips up, revealing a red spot from where you had been sleeping. Sure the spot was small, but it still was a stain of blood in your boyfriend's light grey bedsheets.

You rolled your eyes, just great.

So confidently, you had slept in only your panties and one of Ethan's t-shirts, which had hit just below your waist. The one time you didnt actually sleep in a pair of cheap ratty Walmart sweatpants is the time when miss flo decided to pay a visit.

You cursed silently as you brought yourself up, sitting vertically in bed.

On the chair in the corner lay your small duffel with your belongings. You would rise from bed, grab a change of clothes, and head into the bathroom and change. After in a fresh pair of panties and a new oversized t-shirt courtesy of Ethan, you would crawl back into bed and pretend that this all was a dream. The only problem, was the bed sheets. What the hell were you going to do about those?

It seemed, the moment you thought about how to keep Ethan sleeping and somehow remove the soaked sheet, Ethan was already stirring. "y/n?" he mumbled, barely awake, his green eyes meeting with the sun for the first time today.

You ran a hand through his messy brown hair, reassuring him of your presence, "Shhh," you hushed him, in a tone that was somehow quieter than a whisper, "go back to sleep."

Ethan blinked a couple of times before bringing his eyes up to yours. "What's wrong?" he asked, perhaps noticing the sheets pulled around your waist or the worried look in your eyes. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, tugging the sheets up, "I got my period," you replied, saying that last work as if it were a curse. Even saying it made you want to crawl away and pretend like you didn't just leave a notable mark on your boyfriends pressed linen sheets.

You were so embarrassed. Yeah, of course Ethan knew you had a period, you were a woman of a certain age after all, but it was never something the two of you had ever really discussed before. Sure, in passing you might have companied about your cramps, or asked him to come lay on the couch with you, but you never had openly talked about it with him before, and for some reason, this made you nervous.

You brought your hands up to your face, rubbing them over your eyes in embarrassment. You felt so humiliated.

"Hey," Ethan said reassuringly, sitting up, reaching for your hands, lulling them down from your eyes, "its okay y/n. It's all natural."

You shook your head, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" he asked, propping himself up on one of the pillows.

"A change of clothes?" he offered, "I can drive to Walgreens and pick up some pads if you need?"

You nodded, taking a hold of Ethan's hand, "That would be really nice Ethan," you said, offering him a gentle smile, "but thats not what I'm worried about."

Running a hand though his hair in the nonchalant way he always seemed to, "what is it then?" He spoke softly.

"I kinda leaked onto your sheets," you said, embarrassed, "Do you have a change?"

Ethan nodded, but before he could speak, you interjected, "I'm so sorry Ethan. This isn't how I wanted my first real time over here to end up."

Ethan took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to press a featherlight kiss on the back of your palm, "Waking up next to you is all I ever wanted," he spoke softly, "and I got to do that today y/n."

"So please," he begun gently, "let me help you."

"Go hop in the shower, change into one of my t-shirts and by the time you're done, the sheets will be changed and I will be back with some things from the pharmacy."

You looked up, finally meeting his gaze, "Ethan," you cooed, "what did I ever do to deserve you?"

...

So you did as Ethan wished. You showered, changed into his navy blue t-shirt that always seemed to bring out his eyes, and when you were done blowdrying your hair, Ethan was back with a whole bag of items.

"I wasn't too sure what to get," Ethan smiled, handing you a grocery bag that seemed to have perhaps a bit too much in it, "so I just got it all."

Sitting up in the chair opposite of the island, you peered into the bag, pulling out not one but three packs of pads and one case of tampons. Oh, and also, there was a heating pack, Tylenol, a small stuffed dog with eyes smilier to the colour of Ethan's, and enough candy and sweets for three months of time. You laughed whole heartedly, "Ethan," you smiled, pulling your boyfriend in by the collar of his jacket, "You're the best."

Ethan planted a kiss on your forehead, "Only for you."

#ethan hunt #mission impossible #ethan #ethan hunt x reader #tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #love #romance

656 notes · View notes

vinetae · 1 year

Text

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Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Pairings: College Professor!Jimin x Student!Reader

Warnings: Angst. Sexual content, foul language, 18+ Confessions, vaginal fingering, (f.) masturbation, voyeurism, dom!Jimin, exabitionist themes, protective!Jimin. MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE RELATIONSHIPS.

Don't do that, yall. Ew.

Summary: You had asked your Psych professor for his signature in signing off your volunteer hours. Only a few weeks later, you two are caught at the same club.

Strip club to be exact.

Where you work, to be exact.

A/n: It's cheesy and late, but it's MINE. and I love these two.

And yes my baby fever peeped through at the end but we won't talk about that- 0_0

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Find my main masterlist here

Find part 1 - here

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“Okay..” You take in a deep breath, eyes flashing back and forth between the two options set out for you. Your hands graze over the black, a-line dress, watching as its silky fabric slips between your fingers. The material reminded you of a beautiful ocean.

But that’s not the reason you bought it.

It was half off at a thrift store.

Well, because the fabrics were half off as well.

Safe to say that the dress was in shambles. Actually, it took more money to repair it than just buying a new one.

But you loved that dress.

So, you kept working at it.

Stitching every seam, heming every end, and flattening each piece until it had been perfected.

Soon, you had the most beautifully hand-stitched (halfway) A-line dress to call your own. You’d used a little bit more saved money to really make the piece pop.

You chuckle at the irony, throwing the other dress back into your closet. “Why am I even debating this?”

Your arms slip through the sleeves, watching as the glittery clear sleeves hug your forearms beautifully. The sweetheart neckline dropped to your shoulders, giving more hints to your prominent features rather than to conceal them in heaps of cloth.

Of course, black was a little too…

“Ugh, basic.” You groan, throwing the dress into the hamper near your chair. Your eyes scan your messy dorm, looking for anything that could be more appropriate. After a few minutes of looking, shoving and -quite frankly, a few breakdowns- you’d finally seen the perfect outfit.

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Music calmly strings in the background, as overly-dressed students and faculty members had flooded the large ballroom. Well, it wasn’t a ballroom to be exact.

But it felt like something you’d see in a Disney movie, that’s for sure.

You inhale quickly, before taking the ticket from the handler. You flash a quick smile before making your way through the crowd. Your eyes landed upon what had seemed like millions of name brands. Some Armani suits, Gucci ties and loafers, Louis Vuitton bags, and some names that looked too expensive to even try and pronounce.

Your Walmart purchased cheap heels clack against the marbled floors, trying to make your way through the large crowds of the Rockefellers.

You’re just about through the swarm of rich bees before your body crashes into a tall figure. You groan, picking yourself off the floor, taking a glance up. Her powered and proper face had been oozing with anger and mascara.

“Are you kidding me right now!?” Her hands swipes out to examine her dress. The purple and deep-cut mermaid figure had been ruined by a huge, red wine stain in the front. You quickly stand, bowing deeply, muttering millions of apologies.

“I-I’m so sorry, ma’am-” She laughs out, a malicious look plastered on her Botoxed features. “You’re s-s-sorry?” Her laugh is high-pitched and loud. The commotion had called over a few other viewers to watch the scene. Your hands come to wipe your own dress, thankful that not much had spilled on it.

“This was Dolce and Gabbana, you little shit! How are you gonna pay for it, huh?”

Her voice sends shivers down your spine. Once you’re finally off the floor, you take a look at the mess.

“It’s a dark dress…I’m sure you could just take a sharpie and-” Her banshee-like screech attracts more witnesses.

“Sharpie!? The only thing you need a sharpie for is writing me that check!” Your eyes lift slightly, scanning the room as people crowded around the two of you. Hushed whispers and posh comments used words you didn’t even understand. Her sparkly silver heel taps against the floor, hand extended to you.

“Well? Where’s my fucking money, huh?” Her eyes were sharp and narrow. The high of her cheekbones had given away that she was not from here.

“I’m waiting.”

“You’ll be standing there for quite some time, Miss Alachua.” A deep voice cuts through the thick commotion as his hand comes down to pick your body up off the floor the rest of the way. Your eyes flash, taking notice of his gray-ish toned suit. The little yellow handkerchief stood tall in the chest pocket of the suit. Blonde streaks with fading pieces accentuate his whole aura.

“Jimin.” Her voice softens to a light banter. Anger is still prominent, however.

He flashes a short but sweet grin towards her, extending his arm to exchange something in hand.

“Nice to see you too.” He comments, sucking in a tsk at her dress stain. His eyes glance to yours, head shaking from side to side gently.

“Did you do this, Miss Choi?” He watches your throat swallow a thick lump, trying to respond.

“It was an accident..” Your hands clasp to the front, embarrassment settling over the whole situation.

On your end anyways.

He quicks a smile before clearing his throat, pacing his way over to meet with the woman. “She said it was an accident.”

Her arms across her chest, heel continuously tapping against the marbled, echoed flooring as she scoffs. “She’s still gonna have to pay for it.”

Jimin’s eyebrow raises at her tone, as he sets a palm on her shoulder. “Did you pay for it, Miss Alachua?” Her eyes blow wide at the comment.

He smirks, lowering his voice to where only you two could pick up. “Mmm, that’s the thing about using daddy’s money for your own purposes. So technically, you got his dress messy, isn’t that right?”

Her head slowly falls down, then back up nodding at his sentence. He backs away, clapping.

“Perfect. Then, I’ll get Miss Choi to transfer the money over to his account.” Her mouth falls open, quickly trying to protest. “But I-” Jimin holds up a hand, silencing her. He reaches over to grab your wrist pulling you from the terror of the crowd. Once you’re in a quiet section of the ball room, you’re quick to tug on his sleeve.

“Jimin I don-'' He shushes you, pressing a finger to your lips. “I’ve got quite a bit of information on her father.” His eyebrows tease, signaling to you something, but you couldn’t quite catch on. He chuckles, motioning for you to sit down next to him as he lowers his voice. His finger guides your eyes over to the corner, as you both see a couple leaning on the wall of the ball room, hands entwined together as his older body towers hers.

Your eyes glance back to Jimin’s, watching the smirk on his corned lip. “What are we looking at?It’s just a couple.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the chair, sipping from his champagne glass. “Just a couple?” You nod, not following his words. He inhales deeply, enjoying the classical music sounding in the background.

“Yeah, she’s fifteen.” He laughs at your wide-eyed expression. His lips wrap around the glass’s rim, fogging the clear set with his warm breath.

“Still ‘just a couple’?” He teases as you hit his side. His eyes narrow at your action. “Watch it, missy.”

“Yeah? Why should I?” His eyes said one thing, but his tone said another. His finger lifts from the glass, pointing around to the room. “I’m your teacher right now.” He watches your eyes roll back at his words.

“Oh really?” Your hips rise from the lowered sofa, leading the way through a few doorways. Like before, his feet follow in your guidance, like a puppy on an imaginary leash. He watches your heels step out of the exit door’s frame. Your hands run up the curves of your body, watching as his Adam's apple bobs up and down at the motion. Your hair blows in the night’s chilly winds, with little to no one around the two of you.

Your feet plant themselves right at the entrance outside the building, as they keep themselves on the marbled floor’s inside. “What are you doing..” His voice lowers, eyes glancing around to take notice of no one’s presence.

Your hands lift up to pull the hem of your off-shoulder neckline down, revealing the top of one of your breasts. His jaw tightens at the sight.

“Y/n..”

Your smirk edges him on. “It’s Miss Choi, Mister Park.”

Your back hits the brick wall, finger trailing down the plains of your body to toy with your hemmed skirt. You lift the fabric up a bit, revealing a slimmer of your black laced underwear. His voice thickens at the sight, hands fisting at his sides.

“Y/n.” The tone is commanding, yet you still toy on.

“What? You’re my teacher, Mister Park.” His throat lets out a slight groan, chuckling at the irony of it all. “This is fucked up, Y/n.”

Your lips curl into an innocent smile as you lift the option of your leg up, revealing more of your underwear’s thin fabric. “I’m just a student, trying to enjoy a little time to myself..” Your fingers toy with the hem of your panties before dipping in slightly. Your head rolls back against the brick wall, lips parting at the sensation.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/n.” His teeth clench at the sight. Your back arches, lifting away from the wall, your hand stuffed between the fabrics of your laced underwear. Your eyelids lift slightly, taking a glance at him before continuing.

“Ah, feels so good..” You moan out, free hand scooping more of your puffed tea-length dress to reveal the glorious sight. He watches as your knuckles quickly turn white at the pressure. His voice can finally be heard.

“Fucking minx.” Your teasing smirk only edges him as his feet step out the door. His body pressed against yours, quick to wrap his palm around your wrist to remove your hands from between your panties. “You wanna this game, baby?” Your arms try to wrap around his neck, but he’s too quick to pull away, not letting you touch him like you wanted. His task sends shivers up your spine.

“My rules.”

His hand grips yours, pulling you from the wall to lead you to the parking lot. His hand pulls from his pocket, clicking the unlock button on his car shaped fob.

“T-This is your car?” He smirks, opening the door for you to slip in.

“Ladies first.”

Once you’re both settled in, he cranks the car, letting the engine run for a few seconds before pulling out of the parking lot. His hands clasp in the front, trying not to refrain from touching anything. He chuckles at your stiff body, hand coming to rub on the inner of your thigh. Your body straightens at the touch, mouth parting in agony at the feeling. His eyes glance over before removing his hand. You silently groan, breath heaving up and down from the frustration.

“How much does the school pay you?” You question, looking around to notice the intricate details and emblems designed in the leather. His eyes flash to your movements before focusing back on the road. “Is that any of your concern?” You huff at his answer.

The car suddenly speeds up, as your body sinks back into the seat. His hand clutches the stick, shifting gears faster than you could say ‘peanut butter’.

Soon, your body is following the curves of the road as your body is jerked around from left to right, as his body is completely still through all of the roller coaster turns.

“Jesus, Jimin!” You yelp, gripping onto the handle on the door’s side. He chuckles, as the car comes to a sharp yet smooth stop. If you’d been breathing heavily earlier, you were possibly having a heart attack right about now!’

His seatbelt clicks undone, as he reaches over to undone yours. Once you’ve gotten your land legs, he helps you steady yourself in your seat. Your hair is a mess, and your dress is riding up your thighs. He takes notice of the exposed skin, smirking.

“So, you like?” He asks, watching as you try pulling your soul back into your body. He chuckles at your distorted figure, stumbling to grip onto reality.

“F-fucking fast-” You groan out, feeling a little sick from the rush. He nods, waiting patiently for the white to fade from your complexion.

“Yeah, the first time I test drove it, I almost threw up.” He chuckles, remembering the day that seemed so recent. “I’ve had her for about two years now.” You groan, eyes rolling at his comment. “Her?”

He nods, laughing at your messied self. “Why? Jealous?~” He teases, poking your cheek. Your head shakes, huffing in annoyance. “Why would I be jealous of a car?” His hand cards through the blonde locks, as a sheet of glimmer rises off his skin.

“Don’t know.” His elbow rests on the middle console, a teasing innocent look paints his expression. “Why are you jealous of a car?” That makes you scoff.

‘I’m not jealous of your stupid car.” He faints a pained expression, rubbing the steering wheel gently. “It’s okay baby, she didn’t mean it.” His voice makes you burst out laughing.

“Hey, don’t make fun of Nova.” You watch a simple, child-like expression peak behind his commanding demeanor. You laugh at his demand. “You named her?”

“Well of course I did. Everybody names their car.” You scoff lightly, taking a peek out the window. The dark knight had disguised the road’s wavy ways.

Wait.

Waves?

Your head cranes to the side, giving Jimin a certain glance. “Are we at the beach?”

He nods, pointing out the front window. “You couldn’t tell?”

“Yeah well I kinda was busy trying to hold down my lunch.” He chuckles before popping the driver door open. A few seconds later, he’s on your side. You watch as the door pops open softly, his hand extends out to offer help. You slide your hand into his palm, as he leads the way down a flight of wooden stairs.

“Are you avoiding having sex with me?” He pauses at your comment, tilting his head to the side before flashing a quick smirk. “Who said we’re not having sex?”

That sends butterflies to your stomach.

Your arm wraps around his, as you two walk in sync, head resting on his broad shoulder. He chuckles, swinging your entwined hands together to an imaginary beat only the two of you could hear.

“This seems like a good spot.” He stops walking, laying the blanket down on the sandy beach as you take a look around, noticing the moon’s reflection shining brightly on the water’s clear surface. His hand reaches up to pull you down, settling you down right next to him. He leans back, arms supporting his body from behind as he takes in a deep breath.

“I’ve always hated those events anyways.” His head tilts, flashing you a quick smile. You nod, admiring the cute little seashells along the blanket’s hem. You lay flat on your stomach, watching as the sand falls between your fingers as you try to dig for more shells. His soft laugh hatches more butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“Have you never seen shells before?” He asks, laying down on his stomach next to you.

“Never been to the beach really..” You sigh, fixing yourself to prop your head up on your two palms. He smiles, lightly petting the crown of your head. Your loose bun had fallen long ago, right as the party had begun. His fingers trail along the curves of your spine, listening to your breath pitch in tone at his touch.

“Do you like it?” His voice lowers, soft whispers brush against the shell of your ear. You nod, moaning quietly at the sensation. “Feels good..” You hear his chest let out a sharp chuckle.

“I meant the beach, sweetie.” You quickly sit up, half-heartedly remembering where you were. You nod. “Yeah.. I do.” He smiles, brushing a few of your strands of hair from vision. You huff, leaning closer to meet his gaze as his hand trails up your outer arm. “You drag shit out too much..” He laughs.

“I told you, I’m a gentleman.” You groan, scooting closer to his body, toying with the fabric of his tie like before. “But I don’t want a gentleman..”

“But you need one.” Your eyes widen at the blow.

“I need one?” He nods, humming.

“What I mean, is that you’re too good for an asshole like the guys you work for.” You scoff, feeling the way his fingertips graze the dip of your collarbone. “I worked for you.”

“Mmm, I’m an exception.”

Your eyes roll at his cockiness. “High and mighty, are we?” He smirks, combating your tease.

“Horny and impatient, are we?” You punch his arm lightly, making a few laughs escape from his chest.

“I’m only still horny because you haven’t fucked me.” He shakes his head, laughing as he caresses your cute, chubby cheeks.

“You don’t get the whole point of this, do you?” Your head shakes, as he sighs. “And you’re trying to get a psych degree? Psh.” You huff, crossing your arms at his comment. He smiles, leaning closer to your face, lips brushing the pads of your gently as he continues.

“You’re too impatient.”

“I am.”

He lets out a short chuckle, laying back on the blanket. Arms slipped under his head to support it. His breath is calmed and controlled. Opposite of yours.

“Just enjoy this.” He sighs, taking in a deep breath of the salty air, closing his eyes softly.

“I didn’t come all the way here to enjoy the pretty view.” His eyes peak open as a smirk presses his lips. “Really? Cause I did.” You’re quick to catch onto the little tease, making your cheeks flush red. Luckily, he couldn’t see the tint that well from lack of lighting. You groan, lightly hitting his chest against as he lets out a fake pained cough.

“Owch.” He smirks, pulling you down to his level. You huff before throwing your leg over to straddle his lap. His eyebrows quirk at the sight. Hands come to toy with your hips, steadying you on his lower torso. “Alright, you’ve been your little gentleman long enough.” He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes creasing at the joint.

“That’s not really your decision, now is it?” Your hips roll against his, yet you feel no sign of-

Anything.

Groaning you roll off of his lap, sitting next to his sprawled out body. “Why don’t you wanna fuck me?!” He sighs, rising up to plant his hands behind his torso to prop himself up.

“You’re right. I don’t want to fuck you.” You felt tears welling in your eyes. Your arm comes to hit him once more before sobs start leaving your lips.

“Am I not pretty enough!? What! Do you like older women!? Huh! Tell me, fucking asshole!” His hands catch your wrists, stopping you from hitting him anymore.

“Baby calm down.” His voice softens, as his arms wrap around your frame, holding you close to his body. Your eyes well with tears, a few slipping down from your cheeks as your struggles and throws start to become soft nudges instead. His hand guides your chin to meet his softened gaze.

“You done now?” You sniff harshly, nodding. His smile makes you wanna knock his porcelain front white teeth out.

“I’ve said it before. I don’t want to fuck you.” You push him away from your body, releasing yourself from his arms. “Then why not just take me home, huh? I’m don-”

“Sweetheart, I want to make love to you.” Your eyes start to clear, now staring into his. “W..What?” His warm smile pulls you back in as he wraps you into his embrace once more. You’re slotted between his thighs, leaning back on his chest as his chin props itself on the crown of your head.

“I wanna hold you like this..” He leans his head down, pressing his plush lips to your reddened cheek. “And kiss you like this..” you sniff, giggling at his cheesiness. You twist your torso to meet his gaze.

“You don’t hate me..?” He chuckles, pecking your lips softly. “Why would I hate you?” You shrug gently, turning your attention back to the waves crashing upon the shore.

You hadn’t really had a moment like this. You’d lost your virginity back in high school to one of the quarterbacks as a dare, and after graduation, you never really dated anymore after that. Only a few sleepovers that ended with the morning after pill.

“I don’t want to just have sex with you, Y/n.” He coos, thumbing the tears from your stained cheeks. “I want stuff like this.” Your head leans back some more to nuzzle his chest.

“I wanna wake you up with breakfast on the weekends.. And stay in bed all day, just cuddling like this.” Now, tears have been slipping from your ducts for a different reason.

“How long..?” Your rosy cheeks burn with intensity as his hand comes to caress your softened jawline.

“What do you mean?” His voice soothes the ache in your flushed face. Plump and soft lips brush the side of your ear, pressing a gentle kiss as you feel the rolls of his warm breath graze your heated skin.

“How long have you.. You know..” He chuckles softly, pulling you head to tuck it under his chin. Your ear presses against his chest, hearing his calmed and patterned beating heart. The ocean’s salty taste leaves a bittersweet sting in your nose. Seagulls and other little creatures fill the silence, along with rolls of the waves crashing upon the drawn shores.

His eyes narrow yours as a breath rolls from his lips. “Does it really matter?”

You let out a soft giggle, snuggling closer to his warmth. His heartbeat matches the same patterns as yours, syncing with a light feeling. A brisk and colorful tone breaks your silence.

“Y/n..”

Your eyes glance up, meeting his own. His irises reflect the moon’s rays, similar to the ocean’s own surface. Specks of gold and white hues float behind his eyes. The once one-colored cast had been illuminated, showing millions of broken fragments. His nose scrunches at your rosy cheeks, nuzzling the tip into your neck. He sends you into a fit of giggles, as you hear the light sound of rhythm flowing through the atmosphere.

“What’s that?” You question, head peeking up from curiosity. He shrugs before pointing over the horizon. “Look.”

Your eyes squint, noticing a small, floating speck on the distant waters. The red and white colors clear as you notice the shape of a boat being formed.

“It’s the ferry..” You observe, watching as the miniature piece floats by the two of you. He smiles, nodding. A few minutes go by before he comments. “Do you wanna go on a cruise?”

“Huh?” Your head twists around, laughing at the idea.

He smiles, shaking his head to pull you right back down into the safety of his arms. “Not right now. I mean, would you like to one day?” You hesitate, before nodding quietly.

“My dad wanted to buy a boat..” You sigh calmly, entwining your fingers to play with his. His baby-like breaths make your heart swell.

“Me too. It’d be nice, you know?” He leans back until you’re both almost completely on your backs, you still being tucked snuggly between his legs.

“Really? What’d you name it?” You spin around, flashing your glassy eyes up to look at him. He giggles slightly, a red tint peaking through on his cheeks.

“I don’t know. Don’t even know if I even want a boat yet. It was just an idea.” You hum, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes. Your lips ghost his own, arms coming to coil around the base of his neck. Your leg is now positioned over his waist, but no longer emitting the eager and rushed spirit you’d onced forced.

This had felt calm and-

“Patient.” Your lips fall open at the realization. A smile paints his lips.

“You’ve finally got it.” Your lips tug into a grin at the word, testing it more on your tongue a few more times. He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady yourself on his lap.

Your voice lowers, whispering into the shell of his ear. “I’m still kind of horny though..” He chuckles, reaching down to grip your thighs to pull you more up onto his body.

“Mmm, wanna fuck?” He asks, feeling the way your hips shift over his. Your head shakes.

“Nope.”

“No?”

Your lips ghost his jawline, hands coming to tug at the button on his white formal shirt. You could feel the way his heart paces at your touch. A sheet of sweat barely visible on the surface of his skin.

“Touch me.” His chest rumbles as a low groan rolls from his lips. Your hands lower to bring his palms up to the round of your clothed breasts, guiding his hands to knead at the plush skin.

“Oh fuck..” He groans out, palming at the soft mound while your hand slips into the fabric of his trousers. Hand brushing along the outline of his hardening cock, slipping between the two fabrics to wrap your hand around the base. He groans, lips sucking on the thin sheet of skin on the side of your neck. Blue and purple splotches bruise around the sensitive skin.

His hand comes down to trail the soft of your tummy, following the invisible line that draws to your center. His fingers mimic yours, slipping between the fabric of your thin laced panties. You moan out, immediately lifting your hips for him to easily remove them. He chuckles, keeping his touch right above your pubic line.

“So needy.” He spits, flipping the two of you over. He hovers over your frame, tall and broad shoulders tower your figure as he smirks. Silently, his hand removes yours from between his legs, before lowering further, lifting the skirt of your dress over his head.

“Jimin what are yo- Oh fuck..” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue presses flat against your sopping core. He chuckles, thumb curling around the thin material, watching as it pops against your skin.

“You were so quick to try and suck me off, baby.” His head raises up, finger trailing the outside of your clothed panties. “Why?”

Your head lulls back, hips pushing up to try and feel more of his touch. “Mmm- I wanted to make you feel good..”

He smirks, reaching to the flesh of your thighs, jerking you down to meet his leveled face.

“Mmm, I’d much rather do this.” His fingertip trails the outside of your panties before pulling them down with his set of teeth. You moan at the sight, head rolling in a circle from the excitement.

You feel a sharp point graze the inner of your thighs, his lips press flush to your skin, sucking some more splotches into the thick of your skin. Your hand reaches down, carding through his sandy blonde locks, mouth falling open at the sensation.

“Jimin please-” You whine. His head lifts up, a smirk plastering his features.

“Who?” You groan at his cockiness. You sit up, not really knowing what he wants.

“Daddy?” You try the word on your lips, internally cringing. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not quite. Try again, baby girl.” You huff, scooting further down for his breath to roll onto the surface of your tummy.

“Master?” He shakes his head. He makes a loud buzzer sound, giggling at the joke. “Wrong.”

“What the fuck Jimin.” Your eyes roll at his childness.

“Come on, Y/n. You know it.” He teases, lowering his lips just to graze the outside of your sopping core. His finger cards through your slick folds, bringing the tip up to suck between his lips. His eyes flash to yours, waiting.

“Uhm..” You glance around, trying to think of something else to call him.

“Sir?” He smirks, flattening his tongue to your clit. You whine out, squeezing his head gently between your thighs. Your head lulls back, gripping at his roots for support.

His head lifts for a second to slot his middle and ring finger into the space of his mouth, sucking on them slightly before inserting them into your sopping core. You moan out, chest heaving heavily as his fingers pump in and out at a slow pace.

“S-Sir! Oh- Fuck Ji-Jimin- Fuck!” You could feel his lips form into a smirk against your clit, sucking gently onto the throbbing bud. Your head falls back into the soft, comfy blanket. Your back arches off the ground just to fall right back down from his edging tease.

“Ji- sir please.” You whine, watching as his head lifts up. A trail of saliva connects from his lips to your core.

“Magic word?” He teases, flashing you a cheeky grin. You growl from frustration, pulling his body up from the ground, rolling over until you’re straddling his lap. Your eyes narrowing into his.

“You know what? My turn.”

You’re quick to lean down, crashing your lips against his. Mimicking the waves colliding into the shore. Swallowing the water’s contents whole. His chest heaves a deep groan, vibrating against the passion of your mouth. Which in turn, had made you moan just as loud.

Your hand reaches down past the hem of his boxers, wrapping the base of his cock with palm. His head falls back, hands coming to pull your sleeves from off the shoulder to completely off the shoulder. His warm palms cup the rounds of your breasts, thumbing over the erect of your protruding buds.

“Y/n I- Oh fuck.” He groans, cock twitching in your grip. You smirk, free hand softly tracing the sharp of his jawline. You tug at the hem of his button up.

“Off.” He chuckles, making quick work of his buttoned shirt. He throws it onto the sand somewhere, watching as your eyes trail along the plains of his chiseled chest.

“Don’t drool on me.” He teases, closing your mouth while chuckling at your reddened cheeks.

“S..Shut up.” He laughs, leaning back in a more relaxed position.

“Wanna switch?”

“No.” You gripe, trying to assess what to do next.

He chuckles, watching your face contort with focus. “You sure?”

After a few seconds, you groan, rolling off of his body.

“Fuck me, will you?”

“Y-”

“If you don’t fuck me right now I will walk myself all the way back to the dorms.” He chuckles, gripping onto your thighs before flipping the two of you over.

“Ironic, seeing how we crossed a bridge to get here.” Your eyes roll back, as he pulls the rest of your dress’s fabric down, making sure not to mess with any of the seams. You glance down, raising any eyebrow.

“Don’t wanna rip it off?” He shakes his head.

“If it was Gucci then maybe.” He smiles, folding the piece of fabric next to his thrown button down.

“But it’s not.. It’s less expensive.” His hands reach around, pulling your body flush against his.

“Not to you.” Your face tints at his words, as he continues his explanation, and undresses the both of you.

“Didn’t you make it?” You nod. “How’d you remember?”

His hands pull the last bit of fabric of your strapless bra down, watching as your breasts bounce from the sudden revealment.

“You said you sewed.” Your head nods slowly, as you watch his fingers tug the hem of his boxer-briefs to circle his knees.

“Says that so casually while unsheathing himself.” You chuckle, watching the interesting. His eyes glance up, narrowing towards you through his fallen blonde locks.

“Unsheathed? What are you, an English major?” He laughs, reaching over into his trousers to pull a tiny foil packet from the pocket.

“Was. Changed my major last minute.” He hums, quirking an eyebrow to you. “Really? Why?”

You shrug, laying flat on the soft blanket. “Didn’t think it would pay enough. Gotta make a living somehow, right?” He chuckled, nodding before slotting his figure right between your parted legs.

“Sounded like shakespeare to me.” He teases before hovering over your frame. You smile, lifting your head to lock lips with his. He pulls away, giving you a quick look over before continuing.

“Ready?” You laugh, nodding. “Thou shall penetrate thy self with thine phyllu- Oh fuck!”

He lets out a fit of laughs, slowly pushing past your velvet walls. “You’re gross.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple before slowly rolling his hips. Your teases are quick to cease, being replaced with a string of moans. His laughs fade to more of the same, as your legs wrap around his waist, hips rising to meet his own slow thrusts.

“Oh fuck- shit oh my God, Jimin!” He groans, hip starting to pace faster. “Oh fuck baby-” His head falls to your side, supporting itself on your shoulder as his hands grip onto both sides of your hips to steady you.

“Mmm baby sounds good.” You tease, feeling his lips nipping at the blotchy and bruised skin of your neck. He groans, one of his hands coming up to knead your breast with his palm.

“You’re not getting a baby.” He chuckles, harsh groans rolling from his lips. You fake a frown, flipping the two of you over so that you’re straddling his lap. He scoffs softly, watching your hips rise before snapping down. Hands come to steady both sides of your waist, bodies flush with one another’s.

“Mmmm you’re getting kinda old, sir. Don’t you wanna- fuck- ..c-carry on your line?” He chuckles at the thought, leaning up to capture your lips in a passionate exchange.

“Not right now.” He growls, taking one of your erect buds into the cavity of his mouth, lips wrapping around your hardened nipple. Your arms wrap around his head, body being thrown backwards slightly at the sensation. Your lips part, letting a few little words slip.

“I love you!”

_____________________________________________________________

Oooooo cliff hanger. Hehe.

Alot of people seem to think my one shots are SERIES I'm starting but guys like- you can ask for drabble of my stuff but- I'm already swimming in unfinished series I had started a LONG TIME ago.

Example: Full Circle, Friendly Favor, Love me Leave me, Snow Drops, etc.

So uhm- thank you for all of the requests but these are not going to continue as series. You can request drabbles and ask questions about the characters but other than that, I leave my one shots alone.

This one was a little bit harder to end, so I just left it on a cliff hanger. (Kinda one of those things you can imagine your own ending if you want.)

If you'd like to me finish this, comment or send me a submission <33

Thank You!

______________________________________________________________

repostings anywhere for ANY of my works.

#bts jimin series #bts jimin smut #bts jimin fanfic #bts jimin ff #bts jimin fic #bts jimin #jimin fanfics #jimin drabbles #bts #pjm #bts fics #park jimin #bts masterlist #park jimin smuts #jimin fluff #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n

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gloomzi · 4 months

Note

THIS MAY BE BASED OFF A SAM C AI BOT I TALKED TO BUT OML ILL LOVE TO SEE YOU WRITE IT

This will take time after Sam escapes and is in readers dorm.

The reader ends up taking Sam out to a local place like Walmart because earlier Sam said he wanted to get out for once a be a normal person. But the reader wasn't one to get out themselves or evening party, so they did the best they could. Take sam to Walmart. Once arriving the reader pulls out a shopping cart, looking over at sam with a half smile "wanna get in and I push you around?" Which leads sam being pushed around a Walmart in a shopping cart by the reader. So they takes him down different isle with the frozen snacks, spicy chips, drinks, etc and this kid looks like he is in mfing disney land but the characters are actually the characters.

(I ended up taking sam to the toy isle and he picked out a monster high doll and I educated him on the lore to which he picked frankine. Boy got taste)

waaah thank u for the request! sry it took longer than expected, shit just kept coming up in my life TvT but regardless i hope u enjoy it!

WORD COUNT 2622

WARNINGS is primarily fluff but ends on a bit of a hurt/comfort note (sry), prose heavy

Ever since Sam had started staying in your dorm, he had been asking to go out and do something normal for once—nothing big, just something to get him out of the building, like grocery shopping or going to a party. Something where nobody would be paying attention to the people around them or would be too drunk to remember anyways.

Unfortunately for him, you were a bit too paranoid about your current predicament to want to bring him out in public—you wished that you could, but you knew all too well the lengths others would go to to hurt Sam, to bring him back to the woods, and you didn’t want to risk that—and you didn’t really have friends that were the partying type anyways. Or well, not anymore. Not since that last party where Andre nearly killed someone and Marie was almost expelled.

So, that left you with two options: keep telling Sam no while he gets more and more frustrated at being stuck in your cramped dorm room with little entertainment, or drive him far enough out of town that there was a decreased chance of him getting caught.

You chose the latter.

As soon as you came back from classes that Friday, you were throwing an oversized hoodie at the boy and a plastic package containing black face masks, “C’mon Sam, we’re going on a trip!”

He was ecstatic, immediately dropping whatever it was he was holding—upon second glance you realized it was a few of your minifigs, embarrassing—to get dressed.

Seeing him struggle to change into his not so stellar disguise, you giggled, helping him tug the edge of the hoodie off his elbow where it had been stuck and over his stomach, flattening the fabric for him before handing him a cheap pair of readers off your desk and the masks which had fallen to the floor.

“Ground rules, Sam, okay? We’re going to be heading out of town, but until we cross town lines you have to keep all of this on, got it? And when we get there you can’t leave my side, you gotta stay where I can see you.” You said, watching as he slipped on the glasses, which were, admittedly, a bit silly looking on him, but it was endearing in a way.

Sam nodded quickly, grinning down at you, “Yeah, yeah, of course! Whatever you say!” Sam paused, tearing open the packaging on the masks before looking back up at you, “Where are we going again…?”

You chuckled, turning on your heel to switch your school bag out for a smaller one, stuffing your necessities in it, “Walmart, honey. You been before? When you were younger maybe?”

Sam hummed, thinking for a second before shrugging, “I mean, probably…the name sounds familiar, but I don’t really remember.”

You found that Sam didn’t mind talking about stuff he remembered from before The Woods or Sage Grove Center, in fact he usually recalled those times fondly, but his memory seemed pretty spotty before then.

“Fair enough,” You shrugged back, “Ready to go?” You held out a hand for him to grab, tugging your bag onto your shoulder with your other hand.

Sam nodded, smiling softly and taking your hand, allowing you to lead him out of the building and to the parking lot.

Not many students on campus had cars, you yourself having only got one from your parents which you pay them back for monthly, meaning it was fairly easy to find where you had parked earlier in the week. Your car was on the older side, nowhere near glamorous—the thing didn’t even have an aux cord, so CDs were practically your life line now—but it ran well enough and you kept it clean and nicely decorated, from bumper stickers to stuffies in the backseat.

Sam peaked in the window, seemingly intrigued by the unreasonable amount of plush toys taking up space, but quickly snapped out of it when you pulled open the passenger door, waving him in.

You rounded the car quickly, hopping in and starting it up so you could show Sam how the radio worked and help him readjust his seat until he was comfortable.

“See, you can pull this thing right here backwards or forwards to bring your seat closer or further away from the dash, and if you pull this other one behind it it’ll adjust the back of your seat to recline more.” You guided him, holding your hand over his to make sure he felt where everything was, “And if you want to change any of the CDs, I keep all of mine right here in the center console, you just need to hit this eject button here to take out one and then the load button to put in the new one!”

Sam nodded along, asking questions about your CDs and which ones you liked best, fiddling with the volume to hear better before settling on one.

“Alright, ready to go now? Seatbelt on?”

“Yeah, let's go!”

Pulling out of the parking lot, you and Sam talked lightly, him mostly staring out the window and asking questions about the town and little stores you passed while you focused on driving, answering with fond amusement.

The drive was a bit longer than you were used to making, but you had to get out of town, so you knew it would be at least an hour, CDs seeming to come and go faster than you remember them being, though you guessed it might have something to do with Sam being there to talk over them.

By the time you had made it to the Walmart Sam had changed out of his sad excuse for a disguise, the hoodie being thrown into your backseat in favor of just wearing a white long sleeve with a graphic tee over it, glasses tucked into your sunglasses compartment and mask shoved into your glovebox. Both of you were getting a bit hungry at this point, so you felt relieved to see there was a Dunkin inside the Walmart as well, ordering you and Sam some hash browns and a vanilla bean coolatta to split.

Just based on his reaction you could tell he wasn’t used to having anything as sweet as that drink, his lips puckering as his eyes went wide, “Jesus christ, this shit must be loaded with sugar!”

“Oh yeah, that’s why we’re splitting it, I’d get sick otherwise,” You laughed, “You like it though, right? If not, I can buy you something else.”

“No, no, it’s really good! I like it!”

You hummed in acknowledgement, starting to walk towards the carts, knowing Sam would follow. Grabbing one of the large carts, you tapped the side, “Wanna get in? I’ll push you around.”

Sam’s eyes lit up, as he practically bounced up to the cart, “Hell yeah!” He cheered, throwing a leg over the side, cart wobbling lightly as you tried to hold it steady before he finally fell the rest of the way in, drink held in the air to keep it safe.

You giggled, holding your hand out for the drink so you could take a sip before handing it back to him, “Do you want to get some snacks for the dorm first? Anything you want as long as it’s not ridiculously expensive.”

Sam nodded, sipping on the drink once more with a small smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas, eyes lit up as he looked at practically every item you came across, trying to decide whether or not he liked the sound of different chip flavors and microwave noodles.

Maybe I should just get him one of those mini stoves that plugs into the wall…does he even know how to cook though? Probably not. You thought, rolling the cart into the drinks aisle and grabbing a case of water bottles.

“Hey, do you know how to cook?” You asked, starting to push the cart again. You had cleared all the food aisles, so now you just needed to grab him some clothes and maybe check out the toy aisles too. You always liked looking for figurines and board games in there, Sam would probably like that stuff too if you had to venture a guess.

“Sort of? My mom taught me simple stuff when I was younger.”

You nodded, “I can show you how to do some other stuff then, I’ll just have to get you something to cook with in the dorm.”

“Thank you…” Sam muttered, pursing his lips like he had more to say, but decided against it. You didn’t push. If Sam really wanted to say something, he’d say it in due time.

Finally arriving in the men’s section, you pushed the cart to the side, motioning for Sam to get out. He looked confused, but got out anyway, clambering over the side with about as much grace as a baby deer.

“You’re gonna have to try stuff on or at least hold it up to your frame to make sure it fits,” You said.

“Ohh, okay.” He said, putting the coolatta down in the cart’s baby seat.

For the next few minutes you watched him pick out clothes and hold them up to himself, pulling them on over his own shirt occasionally, but mostly just sizing up if he was unsure. He didn’t seem too picky, but you could tell he liked the more colorful patterns, only picking up darker clothes for “outings”, as he kept referring to them. He even picked up a few anime shirts, asking if you were familiar with the shows and if they were any good before deciding to just get a Naruto shirt anyways, thinking the design was cute, which got a hearty laugh out of you.

You made sure he picked out some sweaters and sleep clothes as well, boxers and socks, a few pairs of jeans and a pair of sturdy shoes, since his old ones were pretty beat up. The perks of working a part time job while having only a couple expenses meant you could pretty much splurge on him all you wanted and thank god for that, you didn’t know if you had the heart to say no to him.

After he had been satisfied with all his selections he had climbed back into the cart, pushing the growing pile of stuff around until it surrounded him like a nest of clothes and food.

“Do you want to check out the toys now? Or maybe some books?” You asked, lightly pushing him through the rows between the aisles. You figured you would be passing the section anyways and you had caught him reading once or twice in your room, maybe he’d want something newer.

“Could we do both? I think I’ve read through most of your collection already and Emma doesn’t have anything that isn’t from 2013 or earlier,” He groaned.

You huffed a laugh, smacking at his shoulder, “Just because Emma is reliving her YA fantasy doesn’t mean you get to shit on her taste!”

Sam whined dramatically, rubbing his shoulder as if you had actually hurt him, “Owww, careful or I’ll never even make it to the books!”

“‘Owww, careful’,” You mocked, snorting, “go pick out a book you menace!”

Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he climbed back out of the cart, perusing the aisle, muttering to himself about each book.

As he looked at the books you watched fondly, leaning against the cart until he was finished debating and set two thick hardcovers into the growing pile of items surrounding the empty spot he quickly climbed back into.

“To the toys!” Sam whooped, fist pumping the air as you pushed off in the direction of the aisle.

You giggled, ruffling his hair, “To the toys!”

As soon as the aisles of toys came into view Sam was practically throwing himself out of the cart, tripping over his shoes until he was picking up a couple Barbie dolls, looking them over with excitement, “How many can I get?”

“How about we look at everything and then you pick out a few, okay? I can always get you more if you want.”

Sam nodded, beginning to saunter down the aisles, not checking to see if you were following as he picked things off the shelves to inspect before putting them back. After what was probably 10 or so minutes he started going back through the aisles and making his final selections, at which time you decided to actually look at some of the games and cheaper action figures.

By now you were pretty confident he wouldn’t wander off so you didn’t mind turning your back to him, grabbing a couple packs of cards to replace ones that had been ruined by a drunk Jordan months ago.

Shuffling a bit to the side you crouched down to check out some of the board games, tracing your finger over the price strips as you checked each one. Just as you pulled out one of the monopoly boards you heard Sam’s voice from across the aisle, anger clearly laced into his words, though he was quiet enough that you couldn’t make out the whole sentence.

Standing slowly, you padded over to the boy, making sure you were loud enough that he heard you approaching before you crouched at his side, a hand sliding over his back to squeeze at his shoulder, “You good?”

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders wracking as he exhaled before a small no fell from his lips, the plastic packaging on the doll he was holding creasing under his hold.

“Did you want her?” You asked softly, your other hand sliding over his wrist softly to ease the toy out of his grip. It was a Ghoulia doll.

Sam nodded shakily, letting you take the doll and place it in the cart before you went back to help him up, “You wanna go now?” You asked softly, already knowing the answer, but wanting to give him the choice rather than just saying you were leaving. He was quick to nod.

“Let’s go through self checkout then, okay?”

Sam nodded once more, shuffling to stand by you, one of his hands looping around your arm as you started to push the cart.

You weren’t exactly surprised the trip was ending like this, Sam was still easily overwhelmed by new things, not to mention his still untreated illnesses. It wasn’t the first time you had taken him out to buy something and he had been triggered or had a hallucination, but you didn’t mind helping him through it in any way you could. He still needed to get out sometimes, if not for him to start to readjust to normal society outside The Woods, then for him to pick out his own things. You didn’t want him to keep living like a prisoner who didn’t even get his clothes anymore, let alone a choice in his dinner or snacks.

As soon as you got to the self checkout Sam let go of your arm, letting you ring up everything and bag it as he watched in relative silence, tugging at strands of his hair in an attempt to self regulate. Once you had finished paying, you were quick to lead him back to the car.

Just as you were pulling open his door, you just barely caught the sound of him speaking, his voice wavering, “‘M sorry, (Y/N).”

Shaking your head, you reached up to cup the side of his face, tucking his hair behind his ear, “You did good, Sam, really. There’s no need to be sorry, these things happen. Let’s just get home now, okay?”

#icky.txt #icky.fics #sam riordan imagine #sam riordan x reader #gen v x reader #gen v fanfiction #gen v imagine #x reader #imagine

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