#I've seen them twice to be fair the first time I almost threw up from being thrown against the guy in front of me when the crowd surged | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-art-of-styles · 3 years

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Ping-Pong

✧ Harry’s a foster kid who always seem to get abandoned until this particular family stays with him, but he can’t seem to trust them. Aylin, the girl across the street, talks too much and her parents fight a lot more. Both of them want to just get out of their houses, and playing ping-pong on the town’s fair brings them together for years.

Word count: 2144

Warnings: — (for now)

Part I (you’re here!)

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

A/N: hi ! this will be a short story so there will be multiple parts, obviously lol. there will be a number on the beginning of each chapter which means what age they are. I know the description makes it seem a bit boring but honestly is fluff and stuff like that :) hope u like it

Harry's head vibrated as he was leaning against the window while the car seemed to be cruising through sky, sea, and land, fighting storms and a giant monster when in truth they were just passing a dirt road.

Lilian, who was sitting co-pilot, looked back with fireworks exploding in her eyes every time she saw Harry, while Dev squeezed his wife hand tightly, her cheeks burning from the prominent smile that adorned her lips, which has remained intact since they left the place where the foster kids wait for someone to take pity on them and take them home. A real home.

On the other hand, the emotion was the least throbbing in the being of the boy, because he has already lived this process twice, three counting now and he knows that it will end in dissolving the existing family—the family by blood and then later go back to the orphanage and repeat the same process over and over and over again.

Well that's what he thinks. How could he not? The two families who took him in threw him out again like a stranded dog in search of the warmth of real love. So no, Harry doesn't want to allow himself to get excited and think that maybe they will keep him (yes, as an object) and that maybe they will love him and that maybe he will love them and that maybe Lilian will make him cookies with a glass of milk when he feels bad or that maybe Dev would teach him to cook or do his homework and that maybe everything will be fine.

"We have a lemon pie waiting for you at home, we — we don't know if you like it, I hope you like it, we prepared it with a lot of love for you, Harry."

"We prepared?" Dev laughed and Lilian rolled her eyes in amusement. "It would sound better if you say that I prepared, don't you think?" He looked in the mirror at Harry. "Champ, the kitchen almost burned down! Doing a lemon pie! Can you believe it?"

The curly-headed simply looked directly at Dev in the rearview mirror and tried to smile at him, which did not work and managed to slowly hide his prominent smile, Lilian giving him another firm grip on his hand and smiling at him with sorrow because deep down they both know that Harry isn't going to trust them just like that. He has felt used, but he also think he's useless, people have abandoned him, he doesn't have parents or a real family, so they understand.

And they will wait for him to open up, because having a child on their own was something that, unfortunately, they could not fulfill.

Aylin's small hands covered both of her ears as she hid under the covers, without first making sure to close the door to her room. Her eyes were tight and a melody came from her lips that she sang every time this happened; but even so, the screams and loud words coming from the floor below her were not drowned out and managed to enter her brain.

It has been a full two weeks now where breakfast, lunch, and dinner were a big plate of arguments from her parents. Now, apparently, it also came in snacks.

Another sound was added to her brain, they were more murmurs and an engine being turned off, although the murmurs were not from her incredibly angry parents, but from some who were calm and trying to gain the trust of a new family member.

Curious as always, like a monkey hanging from a tree, she got out of it (that is, her bed) and went to the window where her big eyes filmed a new scene that she had never seen before: the Evans were getting out of their car with a boy in a black joggers and jumper, dirty sneakers, and a hat. Aylin's mouth parted slightly, surprised that the Evans had never mentioned a cousin or that they had a godson.

She doesn't know how long she was watching them, but she was fed up because now the only staging was the house across the street and the car parked outside was already inside the tiny garage.

Even her parents' screaming stopped, so she supposed that the hands of the clock turned the clock several times in a row and extremely fast; speed of light, up to.

Suddenly, her eyes caught how the same boy from a while ago came out and closed the front door ever so softly, squeezing his eyes a little as there was no longer any open space between the frame and the wood, placing a hand on his chest and releasing all the air in his lungs. Then, he put on the hood that came with his jumper and started walking. Aylin, with a smile on her lips, ran down the stairs and also left, obnoxious about the fact that her parents don't even care where their thirteen-year-old daughter will go alone, but that was already typical.

The truth is that lately she has been feeling lonely, her house no longer feels like home and love was not a prominent thing in her heart, so the opportunity to be with someone who is probably her own age coming at a silver tray for her is something she cannot throw away, so jogging and running short of breath to reach the boy, Aylin yelled:

"Hey! Wait! You! Wait – please!"

Harry stopped walking and turning his torso a few degrees and pulling his hood off, he made eye contact with Aylin, who was still jogging with one hand outstretched in a 'stop please I'm dying' sign.

"Um. . ." he started looking behind her in case Lilian or Dev sent the stranger after him. "Do you need help or. . .?"

"You arrived with the Evans, didn't you?"

"Er, yes."

"Are you their godson? Cousin? They never told me about a cousin," Aylin said the last more to herself, pursing her lips.

"Um. . . I'm—" Harry debated whether to admit that he was taken in from an orphanage or that he was a cousin — a godson, whatever. He thought that, thanks to past experiences, they will get rid of him in about three weeks, or a month, or even less, so: "I'm a. . . godson. Yes. That's what I am."

"Oh, cool!" It wasn't. Aylin's illusions of having a new friend were crushed like an ant walking through a crowd, because if he was a godson then he wouldn't stay that long, anyway, it doesn't hurt to befriend him in the time that remains. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I wanted to walk— "

"Cool! Let's walk together. I'm Aylin. What's your name? There's this really cool fair at the center of the town, it has a loooot of cool games and cool stuff! Let's go there!"

". . . alone." Harry's word was lost with the wind as Aylin wasted no time in entwining her arm with his to pull him and walk with him while smiling from ear to ear for her new friend; on the other hand, Harry grumbled and what he wanted the most was to have duct tape to place it on the girl's mouth, she never stopped talking!

". . . And so the teacher farted and everyone laughed and— look! We arrived!"

The two (still with arms intertwined) were standing in front of the start of the fair: lots of people, perhaps everyone who lives here in this small town came and went, children with cotton candy or candied apples, teenagers joking with their friends and parents waiting for the adrenaline rush in their children's bodies to relax. Immediately one could see the great white ferris wheel, the biggest game of all.

"There are so many games!" Aylin kept talking as the two of them walked through the crowd. Harry must admit that his mood improved a bit when he saw all the attractions and happy faces and the smell of candy, but he stopped short when he saw an unoccupied ping-pong table, when she noticed this, she looked at the boy and smiled. "You like ping-pong, huh?" He nodded. "Me too! Let's play!"

And so now the two of them were at either end of the table, paddle in hand, Aylin the black one and Harry the red one, the latter holding the white ball in his left hand, his tongue peeking out the side of his lips as he concentrated to make a good shot.

Although it's hard to concentrate when she keeps talking, and talking, and talking.

Some say it's a quality, others say it's irritating, but she can't help it, her tongue is never in a knot and words always roll down from it as easily as if they were made of butter. Aylin knows well how talkative she is, and there are times when she hates such quality because she does not know when to stop talking, and sometimes, inadvertently, she begins to talk about personal problems. . . like now.

They were both quite good at playing ping-pong, their wrists moved with fluidity and a technique that was not naive at all, the harmony of the game rarely was cut off and the ball rolled on the floor where one of the two had to come out chasing after it like an idiot.

"My parents have been arguing a lot lately. I mean, they always argue but now it's like a lot, everyday. Last night," ping–, "I heard them saying some things. I think my dad is with. . . you know. . . another woman,"–pong.

"They will probably divorce. I've seen it. . . in movies! Yeah. . . movies."

Aylin stopped the game by catching the ball and setting her paddle on the blue table. Harry frowned. "Why did you stop?"

"A-are my parents going to break up?"

Harry swallowed the accumulated saliva inside his mouth as he realized that Aylin's usually lively eyes had now passed away and a layer of tears was the only thing that made them shine.

"I, um, er, I mean, they probably will— not! They'll probably figure it, uh, out?" By then, the girl's cheeks had turned red as a watermelon and tears were already streaming down her cheeks like a winter storm, placing a hand over her mouth and running off, losing herself in the crowd.

Harry's mouth fell open in agape as guilt filled his heart. He wanted her to be quiet, but not in this way, so the only thing he could think of was to chase her, although it will be difficult to find her when there are hundreds of people running from one place to another and many loud sounds.

"Aylin! Aylin! Where are you Aylin?!"

Now he was getting desperate: according to the watch that was stolen from one of the houses he was in, twelve minutes have passed since he went out in search, but without being able to find the treasure. Thousands of situations and thoughts crossed his mind: she's lost, it's your fault, she was kidnapped, it's your fault, maybe she's dead, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault.

In the end, it seems like it's always Harry's fault.

Then he saw her. She was sitting on the ground, the darkness playing in her favor, her knees bent toward her chest and her arms hugging herself.

In the end, it seems that Aylin will always have to hug herself.

He hadn't even noticed when his feet guided him to one of the tent shops and now he had a cotton candy in one hand and a candied apple in the other. He had no idea where he got the money from; he just rummaged in his pockets and voilà! Money.

Harry sat next to her somewhat nervous, he didn't know what to say, or how to act, what he should think, less how to give her what he bought her. Aylin already knew of his presence, but said nothing.

"Ejm, I — I bought you this, I'm not sure if you like cotton candy more or candied apple. . . uh, which one?"

She sniffed her nose that looked like Rudolph the reindeer's nose and turned her head to look at Harry. Her eyes were swollen and from time to time she would shake from the force (and consistency) of her crying.

Slowly, with her index finger, she pointed, surprisingly shy at the cotton candy. Harry smirked because at least she accepted his ‘forgive me gift’. He kept the apple and the two of them silently began to eat the sweets.

And Harry thought that perhaps he wanted to hear her speak more, since now there was no sound between the two, not even of her breathing, nor of her thoughts. But at least she ate with him.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles blurbs #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction

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bushelofmuses · 2 years

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//last night's campaign featured three vampires that we had to fight.

My cleric was getting +20 with any radiant damage she dealt.

Word of Radiance with 2d6 + 20 + another 20 bc one of them rolled a 1 on their constitution save + another 2 radiant damage from her amulet and ya girl was kicking the shit out of them.

One cast did like 51 damage and smoked tf out of one of them.

Then her starlight spear to the leader's face, twice. She killed all three of them.

And she celebrated.

She was way too happy about beating their asses as the party beat their asses. Girl's in winter but had daisies sprouting up around her as she was excitedly bouncing around.

First thrall she killed dissolved into dust and she's like "you just got dusted! :0)"

Then her final blow to the head vamp was dealt by saying "lights out! :DDDD" and then a little victory dance with her spear and giddy laughter bc "fuck you vampires! fuck you!"

It was fucking adorable and the most smiling she's done during the whole campaign.

The vampires were killed one round + Enil's second turn bc she was first in the initiative. I felt kind of bad bc our DM was excited about rolling for our random encounters and us getting that one and then we ended it so damn quickly.

She also roasted our eldritch knight bc he did only 11 damage with his sword after just saying "removing the head from a vampire should kill it, let's test that, shall we?" and then whiffed it on his second attack. DM was like, 'so bc of her taunting, he misses'.

W: "imagine missing a vampire that's right there!"

O: "imagine dying at the hands of the guy who missed the vampire!"

W: "yeah but you didn't finish the job!"

Then things got ugly...

The wake-up call when we checked their cart after the fight and found dead bodies of previous victims kind of killed the mood though. Enil was excited before that. "ARIX! Arix! Wanna check the cart with me? :DDD" and then they find four dead bodies, one of which was a kid.

Also, I'm now stuck doing hw bc Orestes asked if anyone had any words to say after we buried them and obviously everyone looks at the cleric and I draw a blank on how to pray for the dead bc I've grown up in a Christian household but my cleric worships the Horae, plus the reincarnation beliefs of the Eladrin in Feywild...it was awkward. So I'm not having that happen again...

Then the argument much later at the end of the session between her and Orestes and Orestes finally coming clean about the shit he's seen and what's happening to the souls of the dead worsened the mood, of course. Enil was pissed and freaking out bc "you mean to tell me I was possessed and forced to kill my mom in a ritual to free an elder god, and said elder god has probs already eaten her soul???? Why tf did you not tell me sooner?" More back and forth, she threw a bit of a tantrum about it, which, kind of fair but she took it out on him when the dude kept it to himself to keep everyone else hopeful that they'd win this, and 'oh yeah, by the way Enil, only way I've seen to separate you from Malyn (1/2 bbegs) in all of every ounce of knowledge in time and space I was forced to see/learn and continue to see/learn is to rip your soul out and build you a new one, so that's why I haven't said a damn thing about it bc the likelihood of that working out for you is almost nil'.

So things started out great and the last hour of our session was a nightmare.

I feel bad for Orestes. He didn't deserve how much of a dick she was to him over it bc the dude is really suffering and keeping it to himself so it doesn't scare the rest of the party or rob them of hope or anything, and he didn't want to freak Enil out or hurt her by telling her about the souls or how she'd be free of Malyn. He meant well.

Enil was not just a bit of a dick. She was a giant, ugly, warty, diseased dick to him.

#outofink #dnd #cleric #wanderer #death tw #violence tw

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nicolewoo · 4 years

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All Along Part 2

Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader, Roman Reigns X Reader

Warning: Cursing and explicit sex. SMUT SMUT SMUT.

I woke up to the realization that I was curled up on Joe's chest again. I breathed in his scent and appreciated the feel of his arms around me. I looked up to see that he was still asleep. The movie we'd been watching last night was over, and the TV screen was on the menu page. I was going to lay just like this for as long as possible. I placed a kiss on his chest and ran my hand over his arm tracing his tattoo.

“Mmmmm” He moaned. I felt his head shift and looked up to see him looking at me. The sweetest smile brightened his face. “Hey. Looks like we fell asleep.” He ran his hand up and down my back.

“Looks like it.” I answered laying my head back down onto his shoulder. “How did you sleep?” I asked.

“Baby, I always sleep well when you're here.” He kissed my forehead, running his fingers through my hair.

My alarm went off, jarring us from our snuggling bliss. Joe moaned as I reached to grab my phone and turn the beeping off. “I don't want to get up,” he sighed. I opened the calendar on my phone and began reviewing my schedule for the day. Joe peeked down at my phone and said, “What time is our flight?”

“10 am.” I said. “We should get up and get ready.” I smiled up at him.

He turned me so my back was to the mattress and he shimmied down so he was on top of me, face to face. “Can't we just play hooky?” He nuzzled my neck and I felt him begin to get hard. If only he knew how wet he made me, he'd never get out of bed..... I wouldn't either.

We hadn't had sex yet. We'd only declared our feelings two days ago, but knowing each other as well as we did, waiting to be together was so difficult. It felt like we were ready, but were holding off out of some archaic morality system.

Now, laying in his bed beside him, sleeping next to him as I had both nights since Thanksgiving, feeling him nuzzle my neck, I KNEW I was ready. Maybe it was a good thing that we had to catch a flight in a couple of hours.

“I wish.” I said as I played with his hair.

He pulled away from my neck and looked in my eyes, his hand running under my shirt and skimming my stomach lightly. “Stay with me tonight.” He said impulsively.

“What?” I was shocked at how certain he sounded. “We're going to be in a hotel full of co-workers.”

He smiled slightly, “And?” he quirked an eyebrow. “Stay with me.” He pleaded. “I don't care who knows or what they say.” He was so certain it was hard to argue with him, so I nodded yes. He kissed me sweetly, and his hand began to brush against my stomach again. As he slid his tongue in my mouth, his hand slowly ventured down slipping inside my shorts. It took every bit of willpower I had to grab his wrist and stop him. He pulled back and looked into my eyes.

“We have a plane to catch.” I gently reminded him, and he lowered his head to rest in my neck.

“It's getting harder and harder to stop myself.” He admitted.

I grunted in frustration, “Here too.” I admitted.

I took a deep breath. “Ok, let's get out of bed before we start something we don't have time for.” With a quick kiss to my lips, he slid out of the bed, holding his hand out to help me up. Joe showered in his room while I used the shower in the guest room. When I returned to his room to start putting everything back in my suitcase, Joe came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. I gasped at the view.

“Shit, baby girl. I didn't know you were in here, he quickly turned to go, but not before I saw the tent in his towel.

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself as I turned away.

“Could you... um.... Can you bring me some pants?” He called out. I knew where he kept everything and I quickly got into his dresser to grab a pair of boxers and pants.

“Which pants?” I asked looking at the array.

“The jeans that are on top please.” He said. I grabbed them and went to the bathroom to hand them to him. “I was never shy in front of you before.” He admitted, and I realized he was right. I often saw him changing or in a towel in his locker room. Now though, it was so different.

I just chuckled and went back to packing, trying desperately to forget what I'd just seen.

“Did I see The Bump on your schedule?” Joe called out from the bathroom quickly changing the subject.

“I'm meeting with the producer today. I'm a guest on next week's show.” I saw him come out of the bathroom, still incredibly sexy with wet hair and no shirt.

“That's awesome!” he said as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. “You've been kicking ass and taking names since you got to Smackdown.” He kissed my shoulder softly.

“Joe?” I asked, and he answered with a questioning hmmm. “Baby,” Fuck! How could I say this? “If you keep touching me......” I trailed off, but he knew.

He pulled his arms away from me and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I understand.” He said, but he didn't move away from me. Instead, he kept his body pressed against mine. His voice was husky with lust “Tonight, baby girl.” His voice resonated in my body and I felt my pussy clench in desire. I had to take a deep breath this time. He moved away from me and calmly said, “Finish packing. We're running out of time.”

“Ugh! That's not fair!” I complained, and turned to see a shit eating grin on his face.

“It might not be fair, but it's fun.” He teased, and I threw a sock at him.

He reached into his dresser to grab a shirt and slid it on his body, covering his incredible chest. “Tonight?” I asked.

He stopped what he was doing and came over to wrap his arms around me, “If you're ready.” He looked into my eyes. “I'm ready.”

I couldn't help the giant smile on my face. “I've been ready.” I said and he smiled too.

“Let's finish packing and get to the airport.”

=================================

The day DRAGGED. Everything seemed twice as hard as it should have been.... First a plane delay.... then a mix up with our room reservation.... the whole day was difficult. I just wanted it to be tonight. I wanted to be with Joe so bad, and it was all I could think about.

After losing my match, which I really didn't care about today, I showered, then waited in Joe's locker room until his match. As I went to the common area to watch the match on the TV, Becky wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “How are things going?” I knew she was asking about Joe.

“Everything is perfect.” I said, but she quirked an eyebrow.

“If everyt'ing is so perfect, why are you all tense?”

“Tonight.” was all I said.

“Tonight?” She questioned.

“Tonight's the night.” She didn't understand. “Becks, tonight is THE night.”

Realization dawned on her and she looked at me in surprise. “You guys still haven't....?” I shook my head no. “Holy shit girl! No wonder ya look like yur gonna snap on someone.” She giggled a bit which caught the attention of others in the room. I pressed my finger to my lips to tell her to keep the information quiet, and she patted my shoulder in understanding. I leaned my head back onto her shoulder. “It's gonna be great.” She said to me.

================================

“Let's go to the gorilla,” she suggested when the match was almost over. I hadn't pried my eyes off the screen through the entire match. We headed over just as his music hit. He'd won the match.

AJ styles came through the curtain first. Everyone was congratulating him on such a great match. Joe took a few extra minutes to ham it up for the crowd before he came back. Once in the gorilla, he and AJ congratulated each other on a great match, and Paul Levesque joined them for hugs and congrats. As the show ended, everyone in the room started milling around.

Joe was talking to Paul, so Becks and I chatted while we waited. I noticed Joe peaking up at me, and I smiled softly at him. Then again and again. He was having trouble paying attention to his conversation.

“Get a room,” Becks said quietly to me.

“We have one,” I whispered back, “and as soon as he's done talking to Paul, we can head there.”

Paul finally looked up to see where Joe's attention was. He looked confused when he saw me. He knew Joe and I were best friends, and it wasn't uncommon to see me waiting in the gorilla. My guess is that he was wondering why Joe was distracted by me this time. Either way, Joe focused solely on Paul after that. When their business was done, Joe marched over to me, took my hand and dragged me to his locker room without even a word.

I took a seat on a bench while he showered trying to block out the urge I had to strip down to nothing and join him. Before I could I even imagine what would happen in there, he was out, and he was ready to go a minute later. He beckoned me to him and we left. He didn't even care who saw us. Yeah, it was normal for us to hold hands, but not for him to be dragging me out like this. I saw a couple of people take second looks at us.

“Are you hungry?” He finally spoke once we got in the car.

“Yes.”

“Can we order room service or is there something special you want?” He asked, and I agreed to room service. Once in the hotel, we stopped by the front desk and ordered dinner. Joe left specific instructions to have the meal delivered to our suite's living room, but not to bother us. He tipped there at the front desk.

“What was that about?” I asked about the special instructions as we got I the elevator

Joe walked over to me, placing a hand on the wall on each side of me. “I don't want to worry about having to wait because of room service.” He looked in my eyes and I reached up to kiss him.

“You think of everything, don't you?” I teased.

“Well...” Joe looked shy again, “There's one thing we haven't talked about. Birth control.” He looked down to me, grabbing my chin in his fingers. “I brought condoms, but I'm pretty sure you're on the pill?” He was right. One of the benefits of working for WWE was that we were tested for STD's when we were drug tested; which was frequently, so we didn't have to worry about that.

“I am.” I answered; then added “But we can use a condom if you want.”

He chuckled down at me, “No baby girl, I trust you to take the pill.” He pressed his lips lightly to mine, starting a fire inside of me, but it was interrupted by the elevator stopping.

I was getting excited and just a bit nervous. What was going to happen? Was this going to be awkward? I began overthinking every possible scenario of how this was going to start. I shouldn't have worried though, because once we were in the room, Joe took my face in his hands and stared deep into my eyes. He slowly leaned down and gave me a gentle, sweet kiss. Instantly, all of my nervousness was gone. I was with my best friend, and this is what we were meant to be. I knew it. He knew it.

He guided me to the bedroom, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a few candles scattered around the room lighting everything in a soft glow. Joe turned to see the happy look on my face and shyly said, “I wanted to make tonight special.”

“Thank you,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, kissing me back. I began to guide us to the bed, and I felt a smile cross his lips. When I felt the mattress against my legs, I stopped and laid down on the bed.

“Sit up,” He said, and leaned over to kiss me, his hands slipping under my shirt and running over my skin. I moaned at the gentleness of the move. He lifted my shirt up and over my head and removed his own shirt. His eyes took in my form as he smiled down at me. “I've thought of this so many times,” He said as he laid next to me and ran his hand over my stomach again.

“Me too.” I said as I pulled him closer for a kiss. I moved to start kissing his neck, and he moaned as I gently sucked a spot for a moment. He pressed his body against mine, and I reveled in the feel of his skin against mine, but it wasn't enough. I needed more, and he sensed it.

Slipping his hand behind me, he undid my bra and discarded it onto the floor. He leaned up for a second to survey my breasts and smiled in pleasure. He took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lathing it quickly, causing me to arch my back and press closer to him. I felt a contented hum from him, and it vibrated my nipple wonderfully.

I reached and grabbed for anything I could hold onto finding only his shoulders as he continued to tease my nipple. I could feel him hard as a rock inside his jeans as he pressed against me. I was having trouble concentrating on anything except the pleasure his mouth was giving me, but I managed to reach between us and undo his button. He pulled away and looked into my eyes as he took off his jeans and then mine. I pulled my underwear off which prompted him to also.

The view of his thick member being freed caused me to inhale sharply, and I reached to take him in my hands, causing him to moan and lean his head back as I stroked him. His hand began to slide slowly up my inner thigh, sending pangs of need straight to my core. I released his penis and wrapped a leg around his waist trying to pull him closer to me.

“I need you,” I begged, and he moaned back at me.

“There's so much I want to do with you.” He whispered to me.

“Later.” I whispered back. “Right now I NEED you, baby.”

He looked down at me, giving up his plans and slowly sliding into me, causing us both to moan in relief. It felt so right having him inside me. He kissed me softly and began to slide in and out of me slowly, tenderly. My hands grabbed onto his arms and explored his muscles as I reveled in the feel of him filling me. He moaned again and I saw frustration in his eyes as he tried to keep a slow pace, so I wrapped my legs tighter around him.

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Baby girl? Tell me what you need.”

My voice was louder than I meant it to be as I answered, “I need to cum.” He didn't need to hear any more. He pulled out of me and replaced his dick with two fingers causing me to cry out in sadness. He pumped in and out of me a few times before stilling his fingers deep inside me and curling up to brush my gspot. It was exquisite pleasure, and I lost all control of my body as he brought me to my orgasm, watching my face as I came.

He kissed me deeply until he was sure my orgasm was over. “You look so beautiful when you cum.” He smiled down at me, and I felt a hint of shyness, but this was Joe. This was my best friend, and we were taking this journey into a new phase of our relationship together.

“Come here,” I said as I pulled him back on top of me. He immediately slid back into me and started a steady pace. My gasps and moans spurred him on. He grabbed my legs and pulled them over his shoulders, looking down at me lustfully.

I screamed his name as he began pounding into me unabashedly. “That's it baby girl. Give me everything you've got.” He slid his hands between us and began rubbing my clit. I exploded around him almost instantly. My walls squeezing him tight and he lost control. He began rutting into me wildly, nearing his own orgasm. He pounded harder and harder, faster and faster until he lost himself inside of me. He exploded with a wild groan and stilled inside me, releasing my legs, laying on top of me and burying his head in my hair.

I ran my hands over his back as he caught his breath. He rolled beside me, and I turned to face him. We stared at each other as we recovered, smiles on both of our faces. He reached up and put his hand on my cheek. “That was amazing, baby.” He said, and I moaned in agreement.

After a few minutes, he whispered, “Are you hungry ?”

I hadn't heard the food arrive. “Is it here?”

He chuckled, “Yeah. You were busy calling my name when it got here.” I blushed and groaned at that. “Go get cleaned up, baby girl. I'll get the food.” He laughed.

We had a picnic that night right there on our bed. The food was fantastic, but nothing could live up to the feelings I had for Joe. We laughed. We joked. We ate. We kissed. We cuddled. We loved.

#Joe anaoi Roman Reigs

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i-found-your-shoe · 6 years

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Where My Demons Hide - Part 3

[Sam, Dean, Reader]

In the month and a half since you had joined the boys, Dean's attitude towards you had changed. You weren't lying when you said you lived on whiskey and cheeseburgers, which impressed him. You shot better than he thought you would, though you could use better technique. And you didn't complain about the music he played in the car, singing along at times, and even agreeing that Bon Jovi rocks - on occasion.

He taught you defensive maneuvers and better shooting techniques, Sam taught you lore and how they do research, and in return, you taught them Krav Maga.

And currently, you were teaching them to not underestimate you at the pool table. You were bent over the table, lining up your shot and pretending to not see Sam staring at your ass. You bit your lip, hit the cue ball, and sank your shot in one try. Sam cheered. For once, he bet against his brother, much to Dean's chagrin. You winked at Dean, who sat his beer down a little too hard, and lined up his shot. You leaned back against the wall and lit a cigarette. This was the only room you were allowed to smoke in and you took advantage of it.

You took a sip of your beer as Dean took his shot and remembered your news. “Oh! Guess what?”

“Fuck!” Dean exclaimed as he missed. “What?”

“After this last batch of paperwork clears, guess who will be a fabulous millionaire?”

Sam choked on his drink. “Wha-? MILLIONAIRE?”

“Multi.” you laughed. “And it'll stay that way as long as the stock market stays up.”

“You play the stocks?” Dean asked, setting his pool stick down.

“My father didn't raise a fool. He taught me a few things. My current account is sitting at over a million and a half at the moment. Some from a trust fund, some from stocks.. Most hard earned, though.” Both men looked at you, bewildered. “What? You thought the two of you were paying for the nicer hotel rooms?”

“How - uh, how much exactly are you getting?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

“Five or six from my parents accounts. Four from insurance. As long as I'm around, no more shitty motels.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we should keep her.”

“You're just spoiled by the continental breakfasts.” you laughed.

“Unlimited bacon, (y/n). Unlimited freakin’ bacon.” he shrugged.

“Nothing is final yet. But it should go smoothly. And then, you boys don't have to commit credit card fraud anymore. Just think of me as your Sugar Momma.” You bent over the pool table again, tongue poking out of the side of your mouth, and lined up your next shot. “Sam, you got winner?”

“Huh?” he replied; your question snapping him out of his trance.

You laughed again. “I've almost won. Am I kicking your arse next? Or are we done?”

Sam watched as you took your shot, sinking again on the first try, and victoriously picked your cigarette up from the ashtray. He knew you thought it was a horrible habit, but he was mesmerized by the way you tucked your bottom lip in to lick it before you raised your fingers to your lips. And the tiny, perfect little O shape you made when you exhaled. And the way you glanced at him, subconsciously licking your lip again.

“You won't kick my ass.” Sam smirked.

“We'll see about that.” you replied, raising an eyebrow at his cockiness.

After thoroughly wiping the floor with both Winchesters, you took your winnings and headed back to your room and settled into bed.

A few minutes later, Sam pointed his head in the door. “Hey, you, uh, planning on keeping your ass in bed tonight? Or creeping into my room again?”

Your eyes widened and you played dumb. “I…don't know what you're talking about.”

Sam opened the door all the way and threw your pillow at your face. “This was in my floor, liar.”

You sighed. “Sorry… I, uh… Couldn't sleep. So, when I can't… I've been camping on your floor. Just…once or twice a week, maybe.”

“Nightmares, still?”

You nodded and he walked in, sitting in your desk chair. “I didn't want to say anything. I, um, I've been working so hard to prove that I can do this. I didn't want Dean, or you, to see it as weakness or something…”

“(y/n), believe me. Dean and I? We're…professionals at the nightmare thing. Sometimes it comes with the territory. Nightmares are a no judgment zone. You've been doing great. You even took down that vampire like a pro.”

You chuckled. “One vampire out of, like, fifteen.”

“You saved me, didn't you?”

“Purely selfish reasoning, of course. If you died, Dean would have to teach me how to research.” You faked a grimace.

It was Sam's turn to laugh. “That would be pretty horrible. He can barely Google.”

“But he does know how to find beautiful, busty Asians.” You groaned, remembering when you accidentally came across his porn stash while researching the vamp nest.

“Get some sleep, (y/n). And if you find yourself having any more nightmares, my bed is open. You know.. So you aren't sleeping on the floor.” Sam cleared his throat as his cheeks turned pink.

“Are you asking me to sleep with you? Most men offer me dinner first.” You grinned, causing him to blush harder.

“I-”

“I'm kidding. Drinks will do.” you winked. “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

The next morning, you trudged into the kitchen to see Sam making breakfast and Dean struggling with the new coffee maker you had bought.

You let out a yawn as Dean grinned. “Mornin’, Stitch.”

“Oi, fuck off.” You groaned. He hadn't mentioned what happened the day before and you were hoping he had forgotten, but obviously he hadn't.

“Am I missing something?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“(Y/n) has a tattoo.” Dean grinned wider.

“Yeah. I know. We've seen them.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh ho, not this one.” Dean chuckled, finally getting his cup of coffee to begin brewing.

“Dean….walked in on me changing while you were out yesterday.” You grimaced.

“It's on her butt.”

“On your b-” Sam began to ask.

“YES, ON MY BUTT. STRAIGHT ON THE ARSECHEEK.” You groaned again. “I got it when I was 16 with my best friend. It's Stitch and it says Ohana.”

“On your ass cheek.” Sam stifled a laugh.

“The left one.” Dean chimed in.

“Fuck you guys. I'm going back to bed.”

“Oh, come on, (y/n). Don't be a spoilsport. I'm just messing with you.” Dean stuck out his bottom lip.

Sam chuckled as he made himself a cup of coffee. “So when do I get to see it?” he asked, cheekily.

“That's why I don't tell people about it. Everyone always asks me to see it.” you replied, taking the fresh cup of coffee out of his hands and taking a sip.

“Hey!”

“That's what you get, Sammy.” you winked.

Dean curled his lip. “Get a room, you two.”

You stuck out your tongue and began adding sugar to the coffee. “So, now that we've addressed my arse, when are you going to let me kick some more monster butt?”

“Don't get cocky. You've killed one vampire.” Dean stated. “And you shouldn't have even been there for that one.”

“But I was there. And I was awesome.” You shrugged.

“Cocky gets you killed, (y/n).” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“And yet, here you stand. The cockiest of us all.” You challenged.

“Yeah, and I've been to Hell and back more times than you can count. How many times do you think I've died, Sammy?”

“Are we counting the Tuesday? Because if we count the Tuesday…. Roughly, 120.”

You raised your eyebrows and your eyes widened in shock. “120? As in twenty more than a hundred?”

“To be fair, The Tuesday was a time loop. But I died a lot. Sammy still can't watch Groundhog Day. Or listen to Heat of the Moment.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it was kinda traumatic.”

“Fine. Cocky gets you killed. I get it.” you crossed your arms over your chest. “I'll wait then. Ignoring the fact that I'm more of a hands-on learner and everything. I'll just read books and look at websites and do nothing completely productive.”

“(y/n)....” Sam began.

“Look, Stitch..” Dean started at the same time.

“Oh, is that my nickname now?”

“Of course. Look, I'd rather you be safe than dead. This is still a trial run. If you die, you will bet know if you'd have made it or not.”

“Research is just as important as the hunt. You can't hunt if you don't know how to kill what you're hunting.”

“I said I get it.”

“You're no good to us dead, (y/n).” Sam gave you a small smile.

“I know.” you returned a very unenthusiastic smile.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #Where My Demons Hide #reader insert #reader imagine

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poli9048 · 4 years

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Part 3

"Who are you gonna run to now?"

Lea was carrying a container with warm food in it that her father had asked her to take to a neighbor. The delicious smell of lasagna made her dizzy, but the unpleasant feeling that was tormenting her from the inside did not allow her to concentrate on this pleasant smell at all.

The incident at the party had thrown Leia out of her comfort zone. She was bitterly aware that it would be awkward for her to look at her friend's eyes now, since they had almost kissed twice in the past week, and the thought of it made her cheeks flush with shame. Lea and Chris never allowed themselves to do this, valued their friendship and stayed at a distance. Currently, both have taken a step, not fully realizing in what kind of way.

With a heavy sigh, Brossard walked to the Morrises 'front porch and pulled the handle of the neighbors' front door as if it were the entrance to her own home. The door wasn't locked, so Lea went inside. Chris, in a rumpled t-shirt and disheveled hair, was sitting at the table in the living room, his dark green eyes fixed on a shelf, but it was clear that his thoughts were far beyond this room.

Without bothering to say Hello, Lea set the container right in the middle of the table, pushing the dirty glasses and several packets of candy bars to one side. — From my parents. This is lasagna, be careful, don't choke on it.

Chris shifted his heavy gaze to the woman next to him, mumbled something under his breath, and returned his gaze to the bookcase.

— Where's the thank you? I was actually wasting my time bringing you this masterpiece of cooking — Lea began, ignoring her friend's untidy, tired appearance, the dark circles and bags under his eyes clearly indicating that the young man had not slept for several nights in a row.

— Thank you, — Chris said. —Finished? Get out of here.

— I'm actually trying to help you, and you're acting like a complete asshole,— Lea said. A few days of continuous lectures from her parents and an early Sunday service left their mark on her emotional state.

— I don't need your help, okay?! — Chris exploded, clearly on edge. He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair, his eyes blazing with rage, and his voice breaking into a scream. — I can't help myself, and how can you help me? Who are you, anyway? A strong and independent hooker. No one sees you more than as a sexual object!

Lea recoiled as if she had been whipped. Morris's words were just as stinging, and the girl's lips were frozen with hysteria.

— And you're a damned weakling who does nothing but whine and feel sorry for yourself. Mama's boy! Where is your mother? Who are you going to run to now?! — these words came out of her mouth. Lea did not even have time to realize how much she had hurt him now. Chris felt like a slap in the face, and his eyes — those mirrors of his soul — were now filled with pain and despair.

— Go to the office and get a job there, — Lea suggested after a moment's silence, trying to hide the excitement and remorse in her voice.

— I already went, and the only thing I was told was that it was fucking mediocre,— Chris said, recovering from a moment of rage, and picking up the container that his friend had brought from the table and removing the foil in which the still — warm lasagna was wrapped, he began to eat it. Lasagna was Mrs. Brossard's signature dish, and she made it for holidays, neighborhood gatherings, and school fairs. Many who tried the dish for the first time so flatteringly praised this painfully simple recipe. And the family only painfully realized that this is the only thing that she knew how to cook. Other French dishes that often appeared on the family table, she ordered at her favorite restaurant.

***

No matter how cold-blooded a bitch Lea was trying to be, she felt that now she simply had to help a friend who seemed to be always there. In addition to the feeling of guilt for the words expressed in the heat of the quarrel, the girl decided to talk to the editor of the magazine.

— Is John in there? — Lea came to work off-shift and glanced at the big blue eyes of the pretty Secretary. Did he offer her sex too?

—Yes, what are you concerned about? — Brossard didn't even hear the rest of the question and stormed into the editor-in-chief's cold office. Only idiots could open a window in the fall, and one of them was sitting in front of her.

When Mr. Blythe saw Leia in the doorway, he gave Her a dirty grin and looked her up and down, licking his lips like a predator.

— I've already missed you.

— Hire Chris — Leia demanded in a harsh, cold tone that brooked no argument, but John's expression didn't change at all. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his sky-blue shirt, revealing pale, protruding collarbones, as if he were hot in this icy office.

— So, I didn't make a mistake, you were in the photo, - John closed his eyes and stretched his lips in a smile. — And Chris is your boyfriend, isn't he? Lea frowned.

— He's my neighbor, and it doesn't matter.

— Oh, trust me, this is a big deal in our little deal, — John said, raising his eyebrows as he beat a strange rhythm on his knee. The belt badge glittered in the sunlight that slid across his body.

— Tell me about it — Lea took a step forward, and he abruptly grabbed her by the arm. All attempts to keep her balance were futile, and reluctantly the girl sat on his knee.

The smell of expensive perfume and cigarettes hit her nose — not the cheap ones she bought at the local corner store-but good, expensive cigarettes with a thick white filter and a pleasant aftertaste. After a moment, the guy put his hand on her back, running his hand along her spine and stopping at the edge of her t-shirt.

— If you want your neighbor Chris to work in my office, you know what you have to do, — John hissed into the back of his neck, his nose stroking the thin skin and his lips exploring each wreath.

— You have a mountain of silicone at the front Desk, cover girl, why do you need me? — Leia's voice trailed off. Close contact and a few confident and, unfortunately, pleasant touches took away all the ability to think clearly.

— Do you agree to my offer or not? — Brossard exhaled noisily. Having sex with an unpleasant guy for the sake of an ungrateful neighbor is a bad idea. But she wasn't doing it because of Chris. An image of Mrs. Morris, a beautiful woman and neighbor, came to mind, giving Leia advice and feeding her whenever She ran away from home. She loved her son very much, and the girl knew what a strong bond they had, so the answer to his question was obvious.

— Yes, — she said underneath her breath.

— What did you just say? — his breath tickled her ear. He could hear her answer perfectly, and she could feel the smile in his voice.

— I agree.

John began to trace a path of kisses from the neck to the shoulder of the girl, biting the skin somewhere in the area of the collarbone. Lea pursed her lips, trying to catch her breath.

— Close the door, — she said.

— Such a brave girl is afraid of being seen?"

John closed the door roughly. His brown eyes burned with desire. He walked over to Leia, who was sitting in his expensive leather chair. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it aside, and, taking the girl by the hips, sat her down on the table.

«A strong and independent hooker.»

Blythe bit into the full lips of Lea, who reluctantly returned his quick kiss, bit her lip, and pushed his tongue into the girl's mouth. Lea frowned in disgust at herself and this guy, but she knew that she could not escape her chosen fate, and she ran her fingers through the thick curly hair of the young man, pulling it back and forcing the guy to recoil.

«No one sees you more than as a sexual object!»

John took off the girl's black t-shirt and, covering her body with kisses, exploring it with his hands, pulled off her skirt and threw it somewhere to the side. Lea felt the appraising gaze of a predator that had found its new victim.

— God, you're gorgeous,— he breathes, and then he grabs her by the hips and heads toward the black leather sofa.

The young man loomed over Brossard, and her gaze fell on Blythe's freckled face, which was strewn across his sharp cheekbones in constellations. Leia's hands slid over John's taut abs as the thick leather belt clattered to the floor. Freeing both himself and Leia from unnecessary items of clothing, the guy abruptly entered the girl, spreading her pliable thighs.

«...hooker!»

John moved in a way that made Leia's vision darken and her head spin. She took deep breaths, but could not get enough oxygen to cope with the lack of breathing.

"...no one sees you more..."

Blythe didn't want to hurt her, but it was getting harder to control himself with each thrust. Moans came from lips that gasped for air. John abruptly changed the angle of the entrance, pinning the girl to the sofa. His hands were everywhere: at the bottom of her stomach, on her chest...

«hooker! ...a sex object!»

Heavy breathing, hoarse moans-all the sounds in the office merged in unison. Blythe bites into the girl's thin neck with a kiss, grabs her stomach, and with one deep penetration they both achieve release. Both breathing so heavy, like they ran ten miles on Blakan.

— Don't tell Chris that I asked him to take it. Just tell me you changed your mind, okay? — Lea asked, avoiding the gaze of the one she'd just given herself to, as she gathered her clothes from the floor.

— All right,— Blythe said, and fastened his seat belt with a slight movement.

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