It was Friday night, about three o'clock. My sister Deanne had come home a minute ago, blind drunk again, as she often did lately. Right now, she was stumbling up the stairs in a fruitless attempt to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking up our parents. Of course, she didn’t need to worry about that, I doubt even a cannon blast would wake them. Not with his loud snoring and her earplugs. However, it did wake me.
In a few more moments Deanne would stumble into my room, she always did. My cock was already swelling in anticipation.
“Hi shexy” she slurred as she staggered through the door and steadied herself with both hands on my bed. I could smell beer on her breath, then taste it as she kissed me.
“I’m sho wet for you” she giggled and drew a slippery finger over my lips, “Here”.
The distinct aroma of aroused pussy entered my nose and I tasted the sweet tartness of her female nectar.
I could now see my sister’s naked pussy, neatly shaven and highly excited, below the hem of her little black dress. Deanne had already discarded her underwear, eager as she was for another drunk fuck with her brother. I made a mental note to look for it later, lest mom would find it somewhere and might start asking questions. My worrying was cut short, as seconds later the little dress fell on the floor and my sister was completely nude.
I knew what she wanted was wrong, but it was near impossible to resist my sister’s drunk advances, especially when she was crawling naked into my bed. I’m only human and Deanne was not just sweet, smart and funny, but unbelievably gorgeous as well. To top all that, she was a passionate lover and much better in bed than any of my girlfriends had ever been.
With every time we fucked, I regretted more that this perfect girl had to be my sister. If only she was another girl, any other girl. A girl I could take home and introduce to my parents as my girlfriend. A girl I could kiss in public and fuck while she was sober.
Not that I am complaining, mind you, and if there was any doubt in my mind, it quickly melted as she pulled down my underwear and closed her hand around my cock.
“It’s sho big” she cooed, gently jacking me off. “Ish it becaushe of me?”
Of course it was, but I wasn’t going to admit that to my drunk sister,
“Just suck it Deanne” I grunted.
She smiled at me and lowered her mouth over my cock.
A second later, her ruby red lips touched my pubes and a gagging sound confirmed that my cock was now deep in her throat. She continued to expertly suck my cock and fondle my balls for a wonderful couple of minutes. It wasn’t long before I felt the first signs of an imminent orgasm. I closed my eyes and tried to suppress the urge to cum, and enjoy my sister’s talented mouth as long as possible. Much too soon, I had to acknowledge the fact that it was impossible to hold off the inevitable any longer.
“I’m gonna cum!” I grunted to warn my sister I was about to flood her mouth.
I was surprised by her alertness, especially given her state of inebriation. Deanne spat out my cock at once and firmly squeezed its base of to prevent me from ejaculating all over her delicate face.
Once she was assured I wasn’t going to blow my load, she grabbed my cock again and swung her leg over my waist. She then guided my cock between her silky lips and sat down. Deanne’s pussy was incredibly wet and my cock smoothly penetrated her tight opening. My sister’s pussy swallowed my shaft until her labia kissed the fingers that still held my cock upright. Then she lifted her body again, high enough for me to slip out. Even in the dim moonlight I could see the creamy juice on my shaft, right up to the point where her fingers were.
Deanne stroked my slippery cock a few times, spreading her wetness along my shaft and mixing my precum with her own copious secretions. She rubbed the tip over her clit and ran it between the dainty lips, teasing me by letting the tip graze the entrance to her vagina and then raise her hips when I wanted to push in. Then she finally let the tip slip back into her hole, took her hand off my cock and dropped her ass all the way down. In one quick move she had taken every inch of me inside her smoldering wetness. She leaned slightly forward and placed her hands on my chest, then arched her back and began to sensually rock her hips. I could feel the little bump of her cervix rub against my glans and heard soft squishy noises from her pussy as she ground her swollen clit against my pubic bone.
While I couldn’t see much of her pussy as she was leaning forward, I had a great view of her firm breasts. I could just lay back and look at my sister’s bouncing breasts for hours. They were just the right size, still perky, yet perfectly round and full, and tipped with pink, rubbery nipples that were always hard and just begged to be fondled and kissed. I craned my neck to bring my mouth to the pink nubs when I suddenly became aware of my sister’s scent. She smelled great, a perfect blend of perfume, arousal and a touch of perspiration. I inhaled again, feeling almost light-headed.
She moaned softly and shut her eyes as I closed my lips around her nipple and gave it a little suck. She froze for a second and I felt a series of contractions race up and down her pussy. It was only a tiny orgasm, just prelude of what was to come later. Hungry for more, Deanne stopped rocking her hips and got on her knees. Then she took her hand from my chest and placed it behind her for support as she leaned back. Plunging her hips up and down, she began to fuck me with long, rapid strokes, effectively jacking me off with her pussy. The view of her jiggling breasts was replaced by an even more arousing sight of her hairless pussy and her moist pink labia swallowing my cock every time she plunged down.
As she rode my penis like a cowgirl, the fingers of her free hand worked frantically on her pussy, rubbing in little circles around her clit to coax as much pleasure from the little pink nub as possible. It never took much time for her to cum, and tonight was no exception. After only a minute or two, she lunged forward again and mashed her clit against my body as she fucked me with erratic, forceful jerks and thrusts. The first full-blown orgasm hit her hard and wracked her lithe athletic body. I could feel her pussy try to suck the sperm from my balls as she came, shaking and wailing like a banshee.
While I knew it was almost impossible to wake our parents, she was so loud, I began to worry about our neighbors. I pulled Deanne close to me and rolled her onto her back, pressing my lips against hers to muffle her screams while I furiously pumped my cock into her quivering body. Within a minute, her first orgasm was followed by a second, equally powerful orgasm.
I was close to cumming as well when Deanne climaxed again, and I kept thrusting into her as hard as I could. I was only seconds from exploding inside her when she froze and held her body tightly against mine. Her hands clawed at my back and her strong legs locked around my waist. I wasn’t able to move at all, locked in her grip as her muscles contracted uncontrollably for the duration of her orgasm.
Her churning pussy sucked and squeezed my cock as she kept cumming a really long time, moaning and panting into my open mouth. Then, as rigid as her body was before, she collapsed from pure pleasure overload. For a moment I was afraid she’d pass out before I had cum, but soon she stirred again. With her mouth back on mine, she kissed me while she slowly regained control of her senses.
“That was nice,” she smiled. “You’re a good brother”
Without letting my cock slip even an inch from its snug little hole, she rolled me on my back again and sat up again.
“Your turn” she said and began to bounce her ass up and down. The orgasm I was denied twice earlier was still close, but this time I wasn’t going to warn my sister. I just grabbed her ass and pulled her down even more forcefully while thrusting up at the same time, fucking her as deep as possible until I couldn’t postpone it any longer and flooded her pussy with a hot torrent of potent, incestuous cum.
Deanne kept rubbing her clit as I pumped an enormous load inside her, and just as I squeezed the last drops from my balls, she came again, shaking and panting. After another massive orgasm, she slumped forward, looking like she would pass out. I could feel my sister’s hot breath panting in my ear as she lay on top of me, shivering and convulsing for over a minute before she pulled herself up again.
“God, that was the best, ever!” she grinned and kissed me tenderly.
My hands wandered over her back and her firm, round ass, stroking her soft, sweaty skin as we kissed. Again I was sorry this minx was my own sister, but I was maybe equally sorry that she wouldn’t remember a thing tomorrow.
“It’s shtill hard” she said after a while, suddenly slurring again.
It was no surprise I was still erect, her pussy had been squeezing and sucking my cock throughout her lengthy orgasm and the snuggling afterward. As a matter of fact, I was almost ready for a second round. That was, if my sister was up for it too. To my delight, she was.
She dismounted my hips and got on her hands and knees with her ass up.
“Fuck mee from behind bruv, do me doggy shtyle”
I could hardly believe my luck; doggy style was also my favorite position, and fucking my sister this way was something I had dreamed of ever since she first crawled into my bed many Friday nights ago.
Years of yoga, aerobics and track running had given her an ass that was truly out of this world; firm, round and shaped like a beautiful inverted heart that flowed into a slim waist that was perfect for holding on to with both hands. To complement this wonderful work of nature were two little dimples at the base of her spine, something I found extremely sexy.
Right now, this gorgeous ass was pushed up high in the air, ready to be taken.
I don’t think my cock had ever been harder than when I got into position behind her. Deanne looked truly scrumptious. I grabbed her ass with both hand and pulled the silky globes apart. A thick, frothy glob of semen oozed from my sister’s rosy pussylips. I watched the creamy glob increase in size until it lost its battle with gravity and dribbled down her clit and onto the mattress where it pooled in a slimy puddle between her knees.
I aimed my cock at the gooey pink gash and thrust my hips forward, parting Deanne’s lips and slamming my cock deep in her pussy. In this position she was even tighter than before and I was also able to reach deeper as well, making her groan as I stretched her tissues with my cock. Of course her pussy was quite sloppy this second round, and I was glad for it. The reduced friction aided a lot in increasing my stamina and I fucked her savagely for a delightfully long time. Loud slapping sounds reverberated in my room as I slammed my hips against my sister’s ass, pressing her face deeper into my pillows with every thrust.
Soon Deanne’s muffled moans became louder again, indicating she was rapidly approaching another massive orgasm. I didn’t want my sister to cum and risk her passing out just yet. As I slowed down and eased up my thrusting to keep her from cumming too soon, I let my thumb roam over her tight little asshole. Deanne wasn’t likely to remember a thing anyway, so I felt safe to take more liberties with her than I would have done with a girlfriend. To my surprise, my sister seemed to approve of what I was doing, even pushing her ass back and up against my hand. Pressing a little harder, her puckered little hole slowly yielded and my thumb slipped inside her. I slowly moved it in and out a bit, while I kept fucking her pussy at an agonizingly slow pace.
I was just about to push a little deeper when she looked around and surprised me with another slurred request.
“Put your cock in my assh”
I could simply not believe my ears.
“what?” I gasped
“I want you to fuck me in the ass”
I was almost convinced I was dreaming as I pulled out of her creamy pussy and pressed the tip against the little hole. It was already loosened up a bit by my thumb, but still I had to press hard to open her up far enough to accept my cock. Deanne eagerly pushed back and tried to relax her muscles as much as she could. Suddenly the tight ring gave and my penis sank an inch or two inside her ass.
Deanne let out a yelp of pain as I invaded her rear entrance.
“Don’t…” she gasped and lay a hand against my hips.
I didn’t know whether to not pull out or to not push in, so I just held still. A few moments later my sister withdrew her hand again, giving me green light to push in a little more. I spat on my cock and slowly moved in and out, steadily fucking her deeper until my shaft was all the way inside her.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of her tight little asshole stretched around my cock, nor for the way the ring of muscles squeezed it like a rubber band. I don’t know if she ever had anal sex before, or if I was the first to fuck her ass, but my sister was the first for me, and I was simply stunned by the sensations of this incredibly tight hole.
I applied a little more saliva and sped up again. Soon I was fucking her ass almost as hard as I had fucked her pussy earlier and I felt my balls tighten again, in anticipation of an unprecedentedly intense orgasm. My sister was not far behind, and catching up fast. Every time I pushed in, I could feel her fingers tickling my balls as she was diddling her clit, laboring for another climax while I pumped her asshole. When she suddenly came, groaning and trembling over her entire body, her ass tightened so much, it was almost like it was trying to strangle my cock. For almost a minute, a series of contractions held me tightly and made it almost impossible to move inside her. With great force I pushed in one last time and shot my first rope of cum in her ass.
I kept cumming and cumming, pumping an enormous load in my sister’s bowels. I came so hard, I was light headed and my hands lost their grip on her waist. Stumbling over, I landed half on her back before I found new support on the mattress. On all fours now, I desperately kept thrusting my hips to squeeze every last drop of sperm into her.
Deanne wasn’t doing any better, exhausted from cumming, her arms gave way and together we tumbled on the mattress. There was no kissing or snuggling this time; Deanne was out cold. My cock slipped from her unconscious body and I rolled on my back, too tired to move. Deanne rolled on her side, her face on my shoulder and her arm across my chest, asleep in a drunken, well-fucked stupor. Again that wonderful scent of her entered my nose. For a moment I was tempted to just let her sleep in my bed, and maybe fool around a little more. But I wasn’t sure how she’d react in the morning, when she was sobered up a bit more. Then I thought of the risk of being caught spooning my sister by our parents and decided to take her to her own bed instead.
I put on a pair of pants and got her dressed as well as I could, then carried her to her room and laid her in bed. Kissing her one last time, I ticked her in and left. Tomorrow she’d wake up in her little black dress and probably feeling like she’s been fucked hard.
On my way back I picked up Deanne’s very damp thong. I briefly considered keeping the fragrant little piece of clothing, but decided it’d be best if I just made it disappear. After one last whiff, I buried it in the garbage bin and got back in bed.
The next morning Deanne looked like she had a terrible hangover when she appeared at breakfast. She didn’t show any sign of remembering our nightly romp, although she did blush a little when she saw me noticing her discomfort when she sat down at the table. Never did she show any affection towards me other than wholesome, sisterly love.
I felt really bad for taking advantage of her weaknesses and once again I resolved to resist her advances the next time she’d come to my bed, knowing full well I was incapable of doing so.
Such had become our routine: she’d come home wasted, we’d have the greatest sex I ever had, and the next day I’d feel guilty while she never remembered a thing. But after each time I was feeling worse and worse about myself. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and delicately and with as much diplomacy as I could, I suggested she shouldn’t drink as much.
She laughed at me and told me not to worry about her. That night she fucked me with as much gusto as ever, sucking my cock back to life twice and letting me finish up her ass again. It seemed she was determined to give me the best night of sex ever, to make sure I’d think twice before asking her to stop drinking again.
It almost worked, if my selfish lust hadn’t been exceeded by my love and care for her. I just couldn’t enjoy this self-destructive habit of her. I had to try again.
I had learned the hard way that Deanne wouldn’t listen to me, so I decided I needed help to keep her from getting wasted again. The next Friday, I was going to enlist the help of her best friend Lynn. As usual she came to pick Deanne up around ten. I waited for my sister to go to the bathroom, so we’d be alone for a minute.
“Could I have a word with you?” I asked in a low voice.
Lynn briefly looked up from her phone. “Sure”
“I’m a bit worried about Deanne”
“Worried? What is it?” at least I got her full attention, and she stopped texting.
“Well, to be honest, her drinking”
“Her drinking?” she asked, a little confused.
“Could you, as her friend, keep an eye on her?”
“Sure, but why? I know she’s a bit peculiar, but her drinking is hardly a problem to anyone.” Lynn said, emphasizing ‘her drinking’ in a way that made me feel she wasn’t taking my worries seriously.
“Hardly a problem? She’ll kill herself if she keeps drinking like she does”
Deanne’s friend looked at me in amazement and was speechless for a minute.
“But… Deanne doesn’t drink!” Lynn said.
This conversation started to make less and less sense.
“Then how come she’s shit-faced every time you bring her home?” I asked, desperate for a little understanding.
“Shit-faced? Deanne drinks nothing but juice and water! She only takes one sip of beer before we go home. She can’t possibly get pissed from one little sip!”
“No… you can't”
I was then that I realized the truth, and all the pieces fell together; Deanne’s alertness, her intermittent slurring… An act! My sister had been sober all the time, every time, it had all been a carefully constructed act!
Well, if she could act, so could I.
“Never mind what I said, Lynn… and please don’t tell Deanne we had this conversation”
Tonight I was going to call Deanne’s bluff, and then her ass would be mine. Always.
Summary: It’s the day after your birthday and classes are not on your to do list. Thankfully, Jay has a better idea of how to spend the day.
Author’s Note: This is the first one shot I’ve written for Descendants. Feel free to request something!
You put your head down on the table, trying to ease the throbbing pain. Last night was such a bad idea. Why you let Jay convince you to sneak down to the kitchen for your birthday, you had no idea.
“Hey babe.” You heard Jay say in a groggy voice as he sat down beside you. You ok?” He asked, concerned when you didn’t respond. “My mouth tastes like poor choices.” You lifted your head up to face him. “It wasn’t worth it.”
You let out a small sigh of content when he wrapped one of his arms around you. “C’mon. You had fun. It’s just like when we used to rob Hook’s wine cellar back on the Isle.” Jay reminisced. You let out a small laugh.
“Yeah.” You sighed. Auradon was great and everything, 100 times better than the Isle. But at the same time, everything was very restricted in Auradon. No parkour off the buildings, no stealing, no sword fighting. Those were things that you loved doing back on the Isle. It was nice to do something familiar.
You and Jay both groaned out loud when the bell rang and students started filing out of the cafeteria. You were dreading classes with this killer hangover.
“I’ve got a idea.” Jay smirked at you. “And what is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him, not in the mood for causing trouble. “Let’s skip today and just hang out in the dorms.” Jay suggested.
“And not go to classes?” You questioned, almost completely ok with the idea. “That’s what skip means.” Jay snickered. You swatted his arm before standing up.
”C’mon. Your dorm is closer.” You grabbed him by the hand, walking to the dorms, not in any rush. “I already asked Carlos and Evie to cover for us.” Jay mentioned, his hand leaving yours and trailing itself around your waist.
“You knew we were gonna skip before you asked me, didn’t you?” You accused, not really mad. “Judging by the way you drank last night, I was surprised you made it to breakfast.” Jay snickered as you both reached his dorm.
“I didn’t drink that much.” You flopped down face down on Jay’s unmade bed. You felt the bed dip down as Jay got it. “It was over ¾ths of a bottle of wine.” You could practically hear Jay’s smirk. You turned over and threw your arm and leg over Jay and laid your head on his chest. “I may have a headache from hell, but that was definitely the best birthday ever.” You grinned, lifting your head up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
You closed your eyes and listened to Jay’s heartbeat as his breathing evened out. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep with him.
15/50 - “That was a perfect example of how not to do things.”
Fandom: All for the Game/The Foxhole Court Characters/pairings: Neil, Andrew, Fox children/andreil Summary:
A/N: I don’t think this is what you wanted but here you go. It became an andreil babysit the Foxes’ children with two lines about a cat. I’m sorry.
Who’s who is at the bottom.
“Kitty!” One of Dan and Matt’s toddlers squeals. Cameron.
Amalia sighs and rolls her eyes. She looks down at the tablet in her lap, rereading stats, then up at the television. She laughs watching her mother shove her father into the wall. Tobias joins in her laughter because as always he wants her to think he’s cool.
“Kitty, kitty, kitty!”
“Hm?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the television.
Andrew stares at his useless, Exy-obsessed junkie. He’s tempted to turn off the television, a common occurrence in the Minyard-Josten apartment, but Amalia is here. As much as he still likes telling Kevin no, Andrew wouldn’t dream of upsetting Kevin’s little girl.
(Secretly he was enjoying watching former Ravens shove each other around for charity. Kevin didn’t have a chance when the other side kept putting Thea or Jean on him. The former Ravens all knew each other a little too well.)
Jared took your advice. The next weekend he went home, and the boys spent time with his parents while he tried to work on things with Gen. Again. When he came back, you could tell it hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped it would. You had passed him in the lobby, and gave him a reassuring smile on your way out.
He was tired, and drained. Between work, and trying to make things work with everyone, he felt like he was running on empty. He came home after work that Wednesday to a note taped to his door that simply said “downstairs.”
With a groan, he headed down and knocked on your door. You answered, and a wonderful smell hit him. “Come on.” You smiled and led him in, letting him shut the door behind him.
Determined to get his best friend to join him and the boys on a night out.
It was long overdue, really.
Over the past four years of friendship, he had yet to get her to go out on the town with them, although he knew she went out with some of her girl friends occasionally.
The boys respected Y/N’s decision though, because they knew she was busy with school. She had a scholarship to maintain, and a job as well to help support her living, between work and studying, there just wasn’t much time to go out, so the rare occasion she had time to do so, it was with her girls.
The boys had groaned and moaned about how Y/N liked her girl friends better than them, but she was quick to remind them that all her other free time was spent with them. And even when she was studying she was around them.
So the boys were quick to shut up, knowing that there wasn’t much else they could say, because she was right, they did get her a lot of the time.
But Joe was still determined, because he wanted to have a fun night out with all of his best mates. Y/N included.
He waited until finals were done and all her papers were handed in. He had stolen her work schedule one day while they were hanging out, and so knew what night would work best.
Now he just had to convince her.
“You want me to come out with you guys?” She asked one night while they had dinner at Joe’s.
“Yes. You haven’t been out with us, and I’m sure Mikey and Jack could use a wing woman.”
“I just…” She pushed the food around her plate, “There’s probably more fun people to go out with.”
“Love, you’re my best friend. There is no one better. Please?”
“Fine,” Y/N finally sighed. “I’ll go out.”
“This is going to be the best night ever.” Joe grinned, practically bouncing in his seat.
None of the boys knew what to expect.
When the night finally arrived, the boys were buzzing, ready to take their female friend out and show her the nightlife of London.
They figured that the girls nights she had had were probably pretty tame to their nights, and were excited to show her what an actual good time was.
“Ready?” Y/N asked, appearing from upstairs of Joe’s flat, smiling over at the boys, who had all fallen silent at her appearance.
The outfit she was wearing was unlike anything they had seen on her. They had seen similar outfits at the clubs, on the girls they had tried to pull, but not on their quiet and studious friend.
“Holy shit,” Jack broke the silence, “You look hot.”
“Awe, thanks Jack. Now, are you ready to go?” She asked again, spinning around on her heel and heading for the door, “Let’s go boys!”
The moment the boys stepped foot through the door of the club, the surprises continued.
Y/N lead them over to the bar, ordering a couple rounds of shots, and a few of the boys exchanged hesitant glances, wondering if she’d be able to handle them.
Until she threw back her shots, and a few of theirs, with ease, smiling casually at them.
“Time to dance!” She told them, pulling Joe and Conor out onto the floor with her, letting the music wash over her body as she began to dance.
Joe and Conor stood in shock as they watched her for a moment, unsure of how to react exactly, and judging my the looks on the other boys faces, neither did they.
None of them had seen her like this, so used to the quiet and reserved side, she was the type of person to throw herself into her studies, to roll her eyes when they did something stupid or Jack made an inappropriate comment. Now they were watching her become someone entirely different, but in a way so confident that they were mesmerized.
Because it was clearly still their Y/N, but letting loose and having more fun.
After the initial shock, the boys did their best to simply work with this newly discovered side of their friend, but continued to exchange shocked and confused looks throughout the night.
And the most surprising part was when she slipped her way through the crowd over to their small group to announce that she was leaving.
“Alone?” Joe asked worriedly, already preparing himself to leave as well.
“Nope,” Y/N shook her head, a sly smile on her lips, “With him.” She turned to point over her shoulder at a man standing a little ways back, who nodded over at her.
“Wait,” Jack shook his head, “You pulled?”
“Jealous?” She replied.
“Good.” Her smile switched to the one they were all used to, a beaming smile, “Thanks for dragging me out tonight, you guys. I had fun. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, right?”
Once they had all nodded, she winked and turned away from them, making her way back to the man waiting.
“Holy shit.” Josh mumbled, taking a long sip of his drink.
“This just isn’t fair,” Jack pouted.
“Did you know?” Conor asked, looking over at Joe, who shook his head.
“Had no idea. She’s full of surprises.”
“How do I find myself a best friend like that?!” Jack whined, “I want a hot party girl for a best friend!”
“Maybe one day,” Joe laughed, patting the younger man’s shoulder.
“Juggie, come cuddle with me.” You say longingly from the bed. Jughead smiles at you from across the room and shuffles over to the bed, throwing himself on the bed. You laugh and begin to tickle him.
“Oh no you don’t!” He half yells. “I hate being tickled. Let’s see how you like it!” He flips you over and begins tickling you. You kick your feet and try and squirm away but his big hands are inescapable. “Okay, okay!” You say breathlessly between laughs.
“Had enough?” Jughead smiles, a bit out of breath himself. You nod and cuddle closer to him, planting a kiss on his sweet lips, grinning, you whisper, “I surrender.” “Good.” He laughs, before adding “Now come here and cuddle with me.” You scooch closer to him and turn so he’s spooning you. Sighing in happiness you close your eyes and enjoy the enclosure of Jughead’s arms.
After a few minutes you get bored of relaxing and the silence, so you wriggle your bum a little. Jughead takes a deep breath and says abruptly, “Don’t do that.” You grin and curiously ask why. “You know why,” Jughead says playfully back. “No, I don’t.” You say back innocently, wriggling your bum again. “Stop! You’re gonna make me hard.” Jughead shoots back, slapping your bum playfully. “Hmm. Maybe I want to.” You say, turning around so you’re facing him. His blue orbs staring into yours. You scooted closer to him and pressed your hips against his, his manhood pressing against you. “Oh yeah?” He mutters, raising an eyebrow. You smile sheepishly and reply, “Yeah.” You take your hand and stroke Jughead through his gray sweatpants.
Kissing him, you roll on top of him and begin grinding your hips against Jughead’s. His penis becoming rock hard at every touch. You breathe Jughead’s name and he smiles.
“I like when you say my name.” he says. You grin, “I like it when you talk dirty to me.” Gripping your body Jughead purred back, “Oh yeah? Well I’m gonna fuck your sweet little pussy raw.” You groan deeply, “Oh god.” Jughead pushes you back on the bed and whispers, “You like that, don’t you?” His lips moving away from your neck and continuing down your body. “You like it when I talk about my cock inside you, huh?” You nod and breathe heavily as Jughead leaves wet trails down your chest. Removing your shirt and bra, his lips pluck and nibble at your nipples, his hands beginning to unbuckle your jeans. He kisses down your stomach, tracing his tongue along your curves, “I wanna taste you, Betty.” He groans, his mouth at your waist line.
Ripping your panties away with his teeth, Jughead pushes your legs apart and thrusts his face into your private abdomen, his nose brushing against your clit. “You taste so good, baby.” His words sending vibrations through your body as they tingle against you. You moan and say loudly, “You feel so good.” You’re unable to control yourself while his tongue plays figure 8′s inside of you.
As he pushes your flaps open with his two thumbs and sucks down on your clit, you moan. “Just fuck me already, Jug.” Lifting his head from in between your legs, he grins. “You want me to fuck you hard, Betty?” You whine. “Yes.” But Jughead just grins and says maliciously, “Oh no, you won’t get that so easily. You have to earn it.”
You understand what he’s hinting and immediately roll over on top of him. Releasing his penis from his jeans, you roll it around in your hand. As it grows inside your palm, you pump furiously against his shaft. He throws his head back and groans in appreciation. You grin at how your touch drives him so crazy and mumble teasingly, “Do you want it now?” Jughead’s legs begin to shake in pleasure and his eyes meet yours with his and the fierceness in his blue orbs tells you all you need to know. “More.” Jughead moans, “Stop teasing!”
You grin and swiftly enter Jughead’s entire length into you. A moan escapes your lips as your walls enclose around Jughead’s shaft. Jughead’s hands fly to your hips as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock, forcing his manhood deeper inside you. “Oh god, I love you.” He groans, your ass claps against his skin. He watches your boobs bounce as he continues to thrust in and out. You bite down on your lips to suppress any louder noises. His hands leave your hips and grab onto your breasts, pinching down on your nipples as he groans. “You’re so beautiful.”
Pushing you off him, Jughead climbs over you, his weight shifting on top of you as he re-enters you. His penis gaining access quickly because your pussy is dripping wet. Ramming into you fast, he pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it as his manhood spears into you. As the perspiration trickles down your forehead Jughead moans close to your ear, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You groan in response. Finally a wave of sensation spreads through you, and you moan your loudest. Breathing heavily Jughead collapses on top of you. As his heart beats fast against your sticky naked body, you sigh. “Best sex ever.” Jughead lifts his head and grins, “Best cuddle ever.”
Genre: Angst, the sad kind; Arranged Marriage/Soulmate!AU; a hint of comedy because I can’t write proper angst
Summary: You knew he was the one from the moment you met him. To him, a friend was all you were and would ever be.
Word Count: 2,8K
“(Y/n)! Come on! Your future husband is here!” Your sister called from downstairs. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement.
You had never met Joonmyeon before but you knew that according to the law the two of you were meant to marry each other. That made the situation awkward, to say the least. It meant that there would be the awkward first meeting, first date, first kiss, and wedding. You were sure you wouldn’t be as lucky as your sister who had married the most wonderful woman that completed her.
“Coming!” You called out nevertheless and took a deep breath before opening the door of your room and heading downstairs. You had barely walked down three steps when you heard his voice. It was melodic, he was laughing at something your sister’s fiancee had said. It was at that moment that you changed your mind – you were ready to meet him finally.
“There s/he is!” Your mother’s voice called out, “Come on down, (Y/n)! Joonmyeon has been waiting for you!”
With another deep breath taken in, you walked down the flight of the stairs and over to the living room where your family was waiting for you. You offered him a shy smile to which he responded with a blinding kind grin. He was more handsome than the photos had let you on.
“Hello! You must be (Y/n), right? I’m glad I finally get to meet you!” Joonmyeon declared and walked over to give you a tight hug, swinging you from side to side as his arms wrapped around you.
This had to be the happiest day of your life.
Kyungsoo frowned, his narrowed eyes following the swift movements of Joonmyeon as the said cafe owner flirted with yet another customer while preparing a cup of hot tea. There was a wide bright smile on Joonmyeon’s face as per usual. You loved his smile and Kyungsoo knew it.
Your friend then sighed and murmured to you, “You still haven’t told him?”
The warm sun beat down against your skin as you lounged on the front of the small boat Tig and yourself had rented for the day. Tig dropped anchor, cementing your spot in the middle of the lake before coming up to lay beside you.
“Enjoying your day?” He asked, tilting his sunglasses down over his eyes and rolling over to kiss you. His shadow blocked the suns rays, instantly cooling your skin.
“This has been the best day ever.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back.
“I think I can make it a little bit better.” He mused, rolling so that his body completely covered yours before pressing his lips against yours once more.
Fandom: Jurassic World Pairing: Zach Mitchell X Reader Word Count: 1,159 Prompt: Maybe something cute like Zach and Y/N baking together? Hope you like it, love!! <33
“Zach, honey, no, that is not right.” You said, grabbing the chocolate chips out of Zach’s hand and placing them on the counter.
He knitted his eyebrows together and stuck his lower lip out at you, and you sighed. “You’ve already put in two and a half cups of them! If you put in any more, they’re not even going to be cookies! They’re just going to be a tiny bit of dough with way too many chocolate chips.”
“C'mon, you like chocolate chips; one more handful?” Zach tried, and you tossed your hands into the air exasperatedly.
“Fine! Ruin the cookies! See if I care!”
Zach cheered silently to himself, sprinkling a small handful of the chocolately triangles into the white dough. You helped him roll the dough into balls, and when you were finished and the cookies were safely in the oven, Zach pressed you into a cupboard, his hands resting on the counter and caging you in.
“Are you mad that I wanted more chocolate chips?” Zach asked, but you weren’t really thinking about the cookies anymore. Instead, your eyes were locked on the smidge of chocolate that was left on Zach’s lips. Without saying anything, you leaned forward and licked the chocolate off his mouth before pulling away.
Zach looked at you in confusion. “Was that supposed to be a kiss?”
You rolled your eyes. “No, you just had chocolate on your lip.”
“Good, I thought you were losing your touch or something.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Please, I am a much better kisser than you.”
“Prove it.” Zach said, raising an eyebrow challengingly.
You angled your head appropriately before tilting upward and kissing him gently, both hands coming up to thread through his hair. You tugged lightly on the dark strands, grinning to yourself at the soft grunt Zach let out at the contact, and caught his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling softly on it before breaking the kiss.
Zach’s eyes were wide and dark, and his breath was definitely a little faster than normal when you looked at him.
“Okay, you know what, you are a better kisser than me.” Zach relented, and you smiled. “You are way sweeter than the cookies, by the way.”
You groaned. “Nothing is sweeter than those cookies, Zach. You know I love sweets, I really do, but those cookies are going to be way too sweet.”
He shook his head. “Just you wait, __y/n__. You’ll see. It’s an old Mitchell family recipe.”
You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t argue anymore when his lips found yours again. The cookies wouldn’t be done for another ten minutes, you had enough time for another kiss.
Honestly, you lost count.
“I’m sorry for doubting you,” You said, your mouth dropping open in surprise as you took a bite of the cookie that you thought Zach had ruined. “This is quite possibly the best cookie ever.”
Zach grinned, snagging the rest of your cookie from your hand and tossing it in his mouth. “I told you!” He said triumphantly, and you stuck your tongue out at him.
“You win this round, Mitchell. But when winter comes, we’ll see who can make the better cup of hot chocolate.” You challenged.
“I have a recipe for that too,” Zach said, still grinning. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you continued to pout. “Come on, you’re the better kisser, I’m the better baker, just accept it.”
You relaxed into his arms, turning and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before grabbing another cookie from the tray and taking a bite. God, it really was delicious. Then again, Zach had made it, and he was pretty delicious himself, so it wasn’t that surprising. “Fine, I accept it, Peeta.” You said, and Zach groaned.
“That’s gonna be my new nickname, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah, absolutely.”
“I hate you.” Zach grumbled, and you feigned hurt.
“Ouch, Peeta, that hurts. That really hurts.” You kissed him when he kept frowning. “I won't call you it if you really don’t like it.” You murmured against his lips, and Zach nuzzled his nose against yours.
“If you call me Peeta, I get to call you Sweet Lips. Or Hot Lips, your choice.”
You gagged. “Okay, fine, I won’t call you Peeta. Never call me that again, please.”
Zach shook your hand. “Deal.”
“So, baker boy, let’s get as many of these cookies eaten before Gray smells them, ye-” You were cut off by Gray bounding into the room and swiping all the cookies off the tray and into his shirt, which he was using as a sort of basket.
You and Zach shared a look before bolting out of the room and chasing after Gray, who was laughing hysterically.
The night ended with Gray passed out on the couch between the two of you, cookie crumbs littering his cheeks, his clothes, and even, somehow, his hair, and about a dozen crushed cookies spread all over the Mitchell’s house.
You did not want to see how Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell were going to respond to that when they got home from their “date night” (you knew it was actually marriage counseling, but they called it a date night), but you and Zach didn’t want to wake Gray up, which would ultimately happen if either of you got up. Gray’s head was nestled in your abdomen, and his legs were tossed over Zach’s lap, so really, you were trapped.
You reached for one of Zach’s hands tiredly and smiled softly when he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist.
“Hey,” Zach started, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Gray up. “I love you.”
You and Zach had been dating for a while, but neither of you said those words often. You both knew you loved each other, of course, but it made it even more special when he did choose to tell you.
Your smile widened, and your eyes sparkled with a quiet happiness that Zach always managed to bring out in you. “I love you too.”
You carefully maneuvered yourself so that you could brush a feather light kiss across Zach’s lips without waking up Gray, before leaning back into the couch.
“I hope you know that you’re going to have to make me those cookies again sometime,” You spoke softly, after a moment of nothing but you and Zach looking at each other with matching gentle smiles. “I think I got like three, the rest were either eaten by Gray or abandoned on the floor.”
Zach grinned. “I’ll trade you cookies for kisses.”
“So, I get to kiss you, and I get cookies? Seems like a win-win for me.” You pointed out, and Zach shrugged.
“I also get to kiss you and I get cookies too, so everyone wins.”
You squeezed Zach’s hand, beaming at him. “I like this scenario.”
It was the ship of dreams, they said. Fifty-two thousand tons of steel, five cargo rooms, four chimneys. It was the largest ship of its day, and the most beautiful. For anyone lucky enough to witness the RMS Titanic, it was the ship of dreams. But to one young, rich girl from London, it was nothing but a slave ship, taking her to America in chains.
Euphrasie Tholomyes was a small creature of barely seventeen years old, with dark curly hair and dazzling blue eyes that hid overwhelming sadness. She was the only child of the late Felix Tholomyes, a giant in the steel industry, and was being carted away to New York to marry another young, wealthy man to tie their families together. It was a fixed arrangement, and a smart one at that. Even Euphrasie agreed that the match made perfect sense, but even still she did not believe in it. She could never love Caledon Hockley.
The Hockley family was known, besides for being rich, as a fate changer. Anyone who simply blinked at the family found themselves overflowing with riches and fame. They spent the money they raked in almost as soon as they made it, and posed with their fine things like sculptures amongst gardens. Furs, mahogany, diamonds- nothing was too much for the Hockleys. This motto carried onto the youngest son, Caledon, and he spoiled himself and his wife-to-be tremendously. Which is, to say, what led Euphrasie to the Titanic.
Stepping out of the carriage, the sound of shrieking crowds filled the air, along with seagulls cawing, horns honking, and crates scraping along the ground. It was a burdening amount of commotion, all with the beautiful Titanic as a backdrop.
“Here we are, Euphrasie.” Caledon grinned. “The best ship ever made.”
Euphrasie wrinkled her nose. “It’s quite loud here, isn’t it?”
Caledon rolled his eyes. “My god. Mary it seems your daughter is impossible to please!”
A young woman with fiery red hair stepped out of the carriage as well, smiling politely at Caledon. “Well, it’s just the way us Tholomyes women are. You should know this by now, especially of my daughter.”
Mary Tholomyes was everything that Euphrasie was not. She lived for the finer things in life and draped herself in luxury. Brand was everything, name was everything. To Mary, nothing could possibly be better than the life of the upper class. She donned the role of a wealthy man’s wife with a bright smile and a gracious cursty.
Caledon nodded. “You’re right. I should have known by now that Euphrasie is a woman with higher needs.”
“Cal,” Euphrasie said as she took the man’s arm and walked with him. “I believe it’s appropriate for you to call me Cosette, seeing as how we are going to be married in a few weeks.”
He scoffed. “Nonsense. Euphrasie is a beautiful name, your god given name. To call you by anything else would be an insult.”
“Yes.” Cosette sighed, looking up at the ship. “I suppose it would be.”
Then there they went, a rich man and his fiancee, to board a ship to their new lives.
“Please tell me you’ve got a good hand.” Azelma whispered to Eponine.
“Don’t worry,” her sister replied. “Trust me.”
Eponine and Azelma Thenardier sat in a dingy pub, the both of them holding worn out cards in their hands and facing a pair of burly men with stone cold looks on their faces. The game was poker, and the prize was freedom. The tallest of the two, when stakes got high, had bet their two tickets for the Titanic. Needless to say, there was tension at the table for who would win the ultimate prize. As for the Thenardier sisters, they had bet nearly all of their remaining money, and the last bit of gold they carried with them. For both the parties, it was all or nothing.
“Alright it’s time. Put them down.” The shorter man said uneasily.
Azelma laid her hand on the table- an 8, a 4, a 5, and a king. A high card, not the best, but not the worst. So far so good.
The shorter man laid his hand down. Nothing of importance. Now it was clear why he was uneasy.
“Now you, Sven.” Eponine demanded.
The taller man, Sven, flashed the two girls a wide smile and laid down his hand. Three of a kind. Confidence radiated from him.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry Azelma.” Eponine said sympathetically to her younger sister. “I am so sorry…that I didn’t give you enough time to pack. Because-” she slammed her hand on the table. “We’re going to America! Full house, baby!”
The two girls stood shouting and hugged each other in unspeakable joy. They were going to America. They were going on the Titanic.
“You idiot!” The short man yelled at Sven and lunged at him, the two wresting on the floor of the pub.
“Well thanks for the game, boys, but I think me and my sister have a fancy boat to catch.” Azelma grinned linking arms with Eponine.
A voice from behind them laughed. “Like they’re going to let two underage girls board the Titanic alone.” The man had a point. Azelma was only 15, Eponine barely 18, and they looked like it, even younger if anything else.
“He’s right, Zel.” Eponine agreed. “But I have an idea.”
Half an hour later, the Thenardier sisters embarked on the Titanic in third class, as Azelma and Po– brother and sister.
Out the window, Cosette could still see the hustle and bustle on the streets below, and in fact it had only increased in size. Everyone was itching to get a look at the great ship sailing away, and Cosette knew she should feel lucky to be on it. And yet she wasn’t. In her cabin, servants poured in carrying her mother’s and Cal’s bags as well as their personal items such as portraits, vases, rugs, and paintings. Cosette loved her paintings more than anything, they gave her a taste of life outside what she knew.
“I don’t understand why you adore these pieces.” Caledon grimaced. “Their subjects are unsightly.”
“It’s not always about the subject, darling. It’s the emotion. Art is more than just pretty things, it’s meant to encapsulate the world and the people around us.” She mused.
“What a statement to make coming from a ‘pretty thing’ such as yourself. Perhaps the only work of art we can agree on is one when you are the subject, hm?” Cal said, wrapping his arms around Cosette.
“Will you join me on the deck to see the ship off?”
“In a few minutes. I want to take in everything.”
“Well. I shall see you in a few moments then. Don’t be too long.” Cal walked out of the cabin, shutting the door behind him, and almost as soon as she was alone, Cosette collapsed and began to cry. Cry for herself, cry for her reality, and cry for her future. Life was grains of sand slipping through her fingers, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She rose from where she sat by the window and moved to look at her beloved paintings. They were her escape. In the brush strokes she ran free, in the colours she found her voice. With a gentle finger Cosette outlined Monet’s water lilies, admiring how though each hue was distinct, it blended with the others. It reminded her of people, however different they are they still come together. She wondered what picture she would make.
Realizing time had flown by, Cosette quickly hurried out of the cabin to the deck and found Cal and her mother waiting for her.
“Whatever took you so long?” Cal muttered beneath a smile.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”
“Thinking can be dangerous, Cosette.” Her mother chimed.
“Yes, I’d hate to use it as a weapon someday.” Mary frowned at this, but a part of Cosette was pleased on the inside. She could never oppose her mother openly, and in moments like these Cosette felt power she feared she had lost. She felt in control for just a few seconds.
“Now, enough of this squabble. The show is about to begin.” Cal pointed up towards the helm where the captain now stood. Captain Smith waved at the people on the deck then to those on the ground below. Without saying a single word, he saluted, and his crew hurried off to give orders to down below. A few seconds later, all passengers aboard felt the ship rumble to life, her engines creating a vibration throughout the vessel almost heartbeat-like. Slowly, the Titanic began to move away from the harbour. The smooth water underneath her mass parted gracefully, and the ship began to glide like an angel through the Atlantic water. Everyone was waving goodbye, shouting farewells with joyful laughs. The ship of dreams was sailing away, with more than two thousand people aboard. It was a sight to behold, it was a spark that would light a million fires. It was the beginning to a tragic end.
“So, how long you two been seeing each other exactly?”
You looked up and across at Sam, unsure how to answer that. You were pretty sure this was nothing but sex and food. “Since we were in town on that job.” Dean answered before taking a bite of his burger.
“Really, that long?” Sam looked surprised. “Dean, that’s the longest relationship I’ve ever seen you have..” You choked on a fry and Sam glanced at you. “Is it a relationship? It’s the closest thing to one I’ve seen Dean have in years..”
You’re standing on the catwalk, looking down into the raptor enclosure, where your sort-of-boss, Owen Grady, is working with a hoard of velociraptors.
You’re supposed to be taking notes, but you’re kind of distracted by the whole thing, because, come on, how often do you really see a human being surrounded by freaking velociraptors and not getting devoured?
The fact that your sort-of-boss is freaking gorgeous doesn’t exactly help, because honestly who isn’t a sucker for a tall, tanned, blue-green-eyed, muscled dreamboat? He’s so arrogant and self-assured too, another major turn on.
Not that you’re stupid enough to flirt with your boss.
Of course, you’re too busy being interested in what’s going on to adhere to proper safety concerns; you’re leaning over the railing to get a better look, despite being told several times by Owen that it’s dangerous to do so.
It only takes a split second – you don’t even see the observers come charging past, barely feel one of them collide into you – your balance goes off, the notebook you’re meant to be writing in falls to the catwalk, and then you’re falling.
You’ve been afraid of this happening since day one; this can’t be happening.
But it is. You’re falling.
Maybe you scream. Maybe someone else does, because the last thing you see before you hit the ground is Owen turning to stare at you, calling something out, but whether it’s to you or his raptors, you’re not sure.
The fall hurts, but you don’t black out. Maybe your wrist is broken from the fall, and your ankle feels sprained, but that’s the least of your concerns.
Four hungry raptors are eyeing you like you’re some kind of tasty treat.
Great. I’m going to die like this?
“Hey?” suddenly Owen is there, in front of you, “oh good, you’re okay. Anything broken?”
“My wrist.” You say, wincing.
“Okay. Just stay still. I’m going to get you out of here,” he turns his attention back to one of the raptors – Delta, you think – who has been inching closer.
“Nuh-uh. Don’t even think about it, Delta.” Owen’s got his ‘alpha voice’ on.
Blue inches closer to you, snapping her jaws.
He backs up, repeating the same command: stand down, until he reaches you, effortlessly lifts you into his arms, away from the snapping raptors.
“Open the gate!”
You try to ignore the pain in your wrist and ankle and focus instead on how solid his arms are around you.
You’re dimly aware of the gate slamming down again, separating the two of you from the raptors.
Owen breathes a sigh of relief.
You look up at his handsome face.
“My hero,” you say, before you black out.
When you wake, you’re lying on a reasonably soft bed, a cool cloth on your forehead.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Owen says from where he’s sitting beside you.
Your cheeks flame with embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot, I was leaning over the railing again.” You say.
He’s told me at least three times not to lean over the rails. He’s probably really mad at me, you think.
“Doesn’t matter. At least you’re safe.” He looks concerned, “How’s your head? The doctor said I needed to keep an eye on you.”
“There was a doctor?”
“Yeah, you slept through it, he knocked you out to fix up your wrist. It’s only a little fracture, but it’s still all bound up.”
You look down and see that your wrist is, indeed, wrapped in a bandage and plastered up.
“What about my ankle?”
“Just a sprain. You’re damn lucky you weren’t killed by the fall.”
Here it comes.
“I get it, if you’re going to fire me.”
“Yeah. I disobeyed you and leaned over the rails again. I risked both our lives.”
To your surprise, Owen smiles.
“What’s life without a little risk? Here, drink this.” He passes you a cup of water. You sit up and accept it, then realise where you are.
“Um… why am I in your house?”
“It was closer than your place.”
“Did you carry me all the way here?”
He returns the smile.
“That’s what heroes do.”
“You heard me?” you duck your head, thoroughly humiliated.
He doesn’t answer, just smiles at you.
“From now on, you’re staying on the ground. No more catwalk for you. Can’t have you getting hurt, then I’d need another assistant, and I’ve gotten rather fond of you.”
“You have?” you ask, suddenly filled with a wooziness that has nothing to do with your fall.
“Absolutely. Now, can you shove over by yourself, or do you need a hand?”
You try to move, but wince at the attempt –your ankle might just be sprained, but hell, it hurts.
“Ummm, I don’t think I can move,” you say, embarrassed.
“No problem,” Owen says with a smile, and he carefully lifts you and places you on the other side of the bed, helping you sit up against a couple of pillows, before sitting down beside you.
“I could probably go home, you know,” you say.
You don’t really want to bother him anymore, and it feels weird being practically cuddled up with him.
“No way. I told the doctor I’d keep an eye on you, in case you have a concussion.”
“I don’t have a concussion,” you say, although you aren’t too sure.
“Yeah well, I don’t really fancy getting my ass handed to me by the doc for letting you go. So. You’re kinda stuck here. I mean that in the least creepy way possible, by the way,” he smiles.
You giggle nervously. You’re bedridden with a twisted ankle and a broken wrist, but you’re bedridden in Owen freaking Grady’s bed, with him sitting rather comfortably beside you.
“You wanna watch a movie or something?” he asks.
“I don’t have anything chicks usually like, unfortunately,” he admits, tossing a pile of DVDs to you.
“Not a movie-date guy, huh?” you ask.
“Not really,” he gives you a sheepish grin then says, “More of the don’t-use-a-blacklight-on-my-couch dude.”
Maybe something in your expression makes him back pedal because he grimaces.
“Sorry. You don’t really want to know that.” He mumbles and disappears into the next room, leaving you with a pile of movies.
Feeling slightly awkward, you paw through the pile one-handed, finally settling on Die Hard.
Owen comes back with a bottle of cold water for you, a beer for himself, and a bowl of popcorn.
“I, uh, thought you might be hungry but I’m not really a great cook…” he says, settling himself back next to you after putting the DVD in the player.
“Best, boss, ever,” you say as he passes you the water.
“Best assistant ever,” he replies.
“What, even better than the one who gave you sexual favors?” you tease.
“What? Aw, man, you gotta stop listening to Barry. He’s just making that shit up.” Owen looks wounded.
Halfway through the movie, you get cold, so you pull the blanket over you.
To your surprise, however, Owen puts his arm around you and scoots closer, keeping you warm.
“Thanks,” you mumble.
When the movie ends, you’re half asleep, so you’re perfectly happy to shuffle under the blankets and lay down, facing Owen.
“Thanks for looking after me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you aren’t hurt. I’d really miss your pretty face around here.”
“You only like me for my face?” you pout.
“Of course not,” he kisses your forehead, “When you’re better, maybe tomorrow, I’ll take you out to dinner?”
“But I’ll still have my wrist in a cast…”
“So? Gives us one hell of a ‘how we hooked up’ story.” He laughs.
“Presumptuous, aren’t you?” you mutter.
He chuckles again and leans across to kiss you.
Your uninjured hand goes to his hair, pulls him closer to you.
“I take it that’s a yes?” he asks when you break apart.
“Of course,” you reply, “who am I to deny my hero anything?”
Pairing: Adam x FtM!Reader Word count: 1,339 Warnings: Swearing
Part 1 of ?
Your back was to your boyfriend’s chest, his arm over your waist, and one of his legs between yours. He was in a pair of thin lounge pants, and you were in a pair of boxers and a tank. The two of you had just bought a fixer upper right on the beach. It was worth every penny so far, and you loved falling asleep in his arms.
Shifting slightly, you jerked awake when there was a loud pounding on your front door. Adam was up seconds later. Standing, he grabbed the baseball bat your father had given you “just in case”. You had a feeling you’d be sending him a thank you card. He gripped it tight with both hands, ready to swing if needed. “Stay here.” He whispered.
“Like fucking hell!” you shot back as low as you could. His back was to you, but you knew he was rolling his eyes at you. The pounding happened again, causing you to jump, gasping slightly. You’d been attacked enough in just the past few years to cause you to be on guard.
You were on the bottom stair when Adam unlocked the door and opened it slightly. The bat dropped, hanging from his right hand before dropping to the floor. He looked like he was in shock, the only light on him was that of the moon. The door was wide open, blocking whoever he was looking at from view.
You were worried. “Babe?” You breathed, moving closer to him. You stood just a step behind him, a bit to the left. From behind him, you could now see the older man who was standing there, and looked like he’d some tough times. “Babe, who is that?” It was obvious Adam knew who he was.
Without his blue eyes leaving the other man, he swallowed. “My father.” He told you, making your eyes go wide.
“But…how?” You furrowed your brows.
The older man gave you a smirk. “Son, I’ll answer any goddamn question you got, just let me in and get me a beer.” He chuckled lightly.
Adam nodded, moving aside, still in shock. He’d told you his father was dead, and that had been when you first started seeing each other your senior year of high school- ages ago. How the hell he was now in your house was beyond you. When John was in far enough, you pushed the door shut. “Uh, I’ll get that beer. You want one, babe?” Your eyes went to your still in shock boyfriend.
He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” With that he finally looked over at you. “We’ll be in the living room.” He gave your hand a quick squeeze, and you gave him a small smile in return.