thoughts from the bottom of a wine bottle

Association Ch-4

Originally posted by jonqins


Rated: Angst

Pairing: YutaxReader

Summary: She really hated the guy, his stupid smirk, and flirty attitude was an annoyance at work. Outside of work though, matters were different.

(Y/N): I had to use this gif. Look at his fingers!1! I was listening to Easy Love by SF9 on repeat and as a result, I think this turned out more angsty than I originally intended. I’m not sorry.

Chapter 1| Chapter 2|  Chapter 3| Chapter 4



He walked out on the pool deck to find her lying down on a chair.

“You seem to be having fun, enjoying the sun are we?” He came and stood in front of her blocking the sun from her view.

“It’s unsettling, I don’t remember the last time I had this much free time. I’m having a phantom sense of urgency.” She didn’t need to open her eyes, scoffing at her own ridiculous confession.

“I think if we look enough we’ll find a support group for workaholics for you.” He grinned and her only response was a hum.

“Aren’t you going to swim if you’re by the pool?” He sat down at the edge of her feet, she pushed down her sunglasses and raised her head to look at him for a second before sighing.

“I didn’t get a swimsuit, I have to go buy one.” She confessed before lying back down, missing the spark in Yuta’s eyes at her words.

“Let’s go.” His eager voice made her roll her eyes, “I’ll even buy it for you if you let me pick it.” She held back a laugh at his excited tone.

“I can buy my own overpriced scanty clothing thank you very much.” She sat up straight, “Didn’t you come here to swim?” She pointed at the pool towel in this hand. He looked at where she pointed and looked back up with his signature suggestive smirk.

“Yeah, but going bikini shopping with you sounds so much better.” She rolled her eyes again.

“Fine let’s go. But you have to behave.” She warned, getting up and he followed close behind.

“Want to do it in a changing room? It’ll be fun.” He suggested.

“That’s not behaving.” She sighed.

She sat at the restaurant, waiting for Yuta to show up. She didn’t blame him for talking a work call but she was getting excessively bored. This was definitely not the first time she was alone at a restaurant, but it was obvious that she was getting used to his presence a little too much because of this trip. She slumped down a little more and extended her hand towards her wine glass.

“I couldn’t help noticing that you were all by yourself.” She turned at the sudden voice that intruded her thoughts. The stranger seemed to have his lines prepared.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Before she could even respond he had already taken a seat opposite her. She stared at the man perplexed.

“I’m waiting for someone.” She tried to keep her voice polite but clipped. He didn’t seemed phased, only smiling at her brighter.

“That’s okay, let me just give you company till they arrive. I thought you looked rather crestfallen all alone.” She raised her brows, more amused than anything else by his forwardness.

“What are you drinking?” He asked almost immediately, not allowing time for any responses.

“It’s a Bordeaux.” She said with a bored voice.

“Oh? What type of grape is that?” She realised he was trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about.

“It’s a blend.” A voice interrupted. She snapped her head back.

“Bordeaux is a blend of different types of grapes. Something like merlot is a single variety.” He looked between the both of them, she saw the way his jaw was clenched when she looked at her. He turned to the man and smiled.

“Yuta Nakamoto. Nice to meet you.” He extended his arm naturally. They guy got up and shook his hand. She stared in disbelief when he sat back down.

“You must be the someone she was waiting for.” He said and yuta looked at her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. She moved in, wondering if he was just waiting for some place to sit. He didn’t seem to be making any effort to do so.

“So what are you both..” He looked between both of them, trying to weigh the situation.

“Colleagues.” She responded quickly, more out of habit than anything else. This wasn’t the first time people questioned the nature of their relationship and by now she was used to it, ready with a response. What she didn’t expect was Yuta’s response, that was different.

“Right. I should go, leave you two alone.” She furrowed her brows at his words.

“No, that’s ridiculous. I’m the one intruding.” The man said, still somehow seated.

“No. I have to call my brother.” His smile seemed forced when he left in a hurry.

“Well I guess it’s just us.” She was still trying to understand what happened when the man spoke.

“I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” She said quickly, rushing out of the restaurant.

She was practically limping in her heels by the time the elevator reached the floor their room was on. How he managed to disappear in the mere minutes it took her to follow him was a mystery, but she hoped he was in the room.

When she entered the room he was sitting on the bed, still in the suit he had put the effort of wearing. When he sat like that with such a cold expression, she realised that he looked like a statue. A relic frozen in time to be admired from afar, but prohibited to touch.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was hesitant. He hadn’t even acknowledged her presence.

“Nothing. I’m just tired, I want to go to bed.” He was avoiding eye contact when he stood up and slipped out of his jacket.

“You don’t have a brother.” She said, her voice sounding her growing confusion. He finally turned around and faced her, eyes full of so much hurt that she took a step back.

“Well you wouldn’t know. I’m just your Colleague.” Her features softened at his wounded words.

“Yuta..” Her voice trailed off. But the confusion still deeply engraved in her eyes enraged Yuta enough to throw his jacket across the room. A small glass object inside a pocket shattering on impact and she gasped, hand going to cover her mouth.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad about something so stupid.” She stared wide-eyed at him.

“You never understand!” His sudden loud voice made her jump, “You’re the most intelligent person I know and yet you never seem to understand.” He lowered his voice a little.

“Are you jealous of some stranger who just came and sat at our table?” She laughed herself at the ridiculous thought, it had to be something else.

“Of course I am!” He turned to her with eyes that desperately yearned for her to see.

“I hate that I can’t tell people like him to just back the fuck off. To stay away from something that is not theirs.” His hands shook from anger and panic from his unplanned confession.

“I am not yours.” She was breathing deeply trying hard to keep calm.

“You are always going on dates, telling me about your recent escapades. How are you even in the position to say these things.” She didn’t understand what she was feeling suddenly. Where was this jealousy coming from?

“Then tell me to stop.” His simple solution stopped her mid breath. There was a silence filled with possibilities and hope.

“Tell me you hate it. Tell me you want me to be just yours!” He raised his voice again, but his cry was filled with a frenzied plead. She still stood in silence, staring at him. Watching him strip himself vulnerable to her. He turned away from her, overwhelmed and still surprised at the words spilling out of his own lips. He laughed at the situation.

“How does it matter! Why do you want me to?” She was screaming now, she realised in a small corner of her mind that this wasn’t something she expected her to do. He turned back to her in disbelief, How could she be so adamant?

“Because I love you!” Both of them were equally shocked, stunned into silence. He was the last person she expected to say those words and he never expected he’d actually tell her his closest guarded secret.

“That’s why it matters. That’s why I need you to tell me. Tell me that you want me please. Or just cast me down now. I can’t do this anymore, I’m human. I won’t hate you, I won’t blame you. Just tear the hope I dared to nurture before it ruins me.” A tear slipped out of his eye. She was too shocked to form words.

“Do it!” He said more forcefully.

All she could think of was to kiss him, it’s all her mind allowed. It’s all she wanted in the moment and that’s what she did. He was shocked at first, having prepared himself for pain, braced himself to suffer his heart being torn out and devoured by the only person who had the power to. Instead he cradled her chin, wiping the tears on her face with his thumb, he realised that he didn’t want to see her cry, especially when he was the reason.

They were lying in bed staring at the ceiling in silence, exhausted from emotions and weary from screaming their hearts out. Still in the clothes they went out in.

“We’re so different,” She whispered, partly from how raw her throat was and partly in an attempt to not break apart. “Being together, making it work will take a lot of effort.” Even with her cautious words, her heart was fluttering at the possibilities. Yuta smiled at the thought, the word together ringing in his head over and over.

“It’s a huge risk.” She turned towards him meaningfully. He smiled brighter and turned to her completely, pushing her hair back with affection etched on his features.

“The best thing usually are.” He came closer and kissed away another escaping tear.

“What broke in your jacket?” She broke the blissful silence when a memory resurfaced. He shyly bit his bottom lip but beamed soon after.

“It was a small bottle of wine. There was a sommelier at the bar who was helping me understand wine.” Warmth spread in her chest from the gesture. She didn’t resist the urge to kiss him.

Suddenly she gasped into his mouth pulling away like she was burned and jumping off the bed. He raised his head confused.

“That’s not how you usually expect someone you love to react when you kiss them.” His smirk was teasing.

“No you idiot. Your jacket! The wine stain will never come off.” She said urgently picking up the jacket and brushing it with sympathy, “It’s a custom Tom Ford.” She whined.

Yuta lay back down full of disbelief, smiling still. This was the women he was in love with.

Our Choices - Chapter 1 - The First Christmas (Remus Lupin)

This is my first Harry Potter fic I’ve put on here, so I’d really appreciate any feedback y’all have, and don’t be afraid to like and reblog! Gif is not mine. You can also read this on FFN here :)

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings:  Heavy themes, minor language, drinking, angst (It’s not a light story but it’s not unnecessarily graphic either)

Summary: This story starts in December 1981, a few months after James and Lily have been killed.  The Order of the Phoenix is all but disbanded after Voldemort’s apparent downfall, and the Ministry is in the process of rounding up any remaining Death Eaters as the Wizarding community tries to rebuild and readjust to normal.  But as for Remus, well…Remus is almost completely alone after losing his best friends–three dead, and one rotting in Azkaban because he betrayed them.

******If you want to really get a feel for the ambience of this chapter, play this in another tab (from the time I set the link to start at!) while you read******


The Leaky Cauldron
Christmas Eve, 1981

Serpent Wine burned the back of Remus Lupin’s throat as he downed another glass in one gulp.  He was past the point of registering the sting it caused in the stomach when ingested too quickly; all he cared about was reaching the bottom of the glass so he’d be one step closer to wiping another night from his memory.  He’d thought about it before—Obliviating himself, pretending nothing had happened since Halloween—but he couldn’t muster the strength, so alcohol would have to do.  

He waved his wand lazily in the direction of the bar to summon another bottle, but when he looked up he saw no wine floating towards him.  He sighed; that would make it the fifth night in a row Tom the Bartender had cut him off before midnight, and on Christmas Eve no less.  If he wasn’t careful, one of these nights he’d surely be caught for performing magic under the influence.

Remus sighed heavily and burped, grimacing at the leftover taste in his mouth.  If he thought a full moon was nearly unbearable, it was nothing compared to this.  The first holidays without James and Lily, without Peter, without Sirius…even without—Remus couldn’t even think the name, despite how only days ago he had begged Dumbledore to let him go visit, just for an hour or two, please, because it’s Christmas.  

It was as if a whole part of him was missing without the people who made his life as close to normal as it could get for a lycanthrope, and almost as horrible as the pain was the apathy towards everything and everyone else that he knew was getting worse.  He’d never understood how people could wind up in pubs in the middle of the day, running up their tabs, but he knew now.  He’d become one of that crowd.  Sitting there, drunk at his usual table and spending Christmas alone, Remus doubted he’d ever get out of this slump.  He wasn’t even sure he wanted to, because that would mean facing the reality of what had happened to his best friends.

“May I sit down?” a voice asked.  In his semi-stupor, Remus shrugged and gestured sloppily to the other side of the table, his eyes too bleary to see if there was even a chair there.  “I thought I might find you here, Remus.”

Remus looked up to see none other than Albus Dumbledore sitting before him, dressed in Yuletide robes, a glass of eggnog in front of him.  Remus’s first instinct was to get up and leave, but his feet seemed to have detached themselves from his body and were no longer obeying his brain’s (albeit impaired) commands.

“I quite like this drink.  Muggles love it this time of year,” Dumbledore said cheerfully after a moment of pause. Remus glared across the table in disgust.  How was he so jovial?  “I understand why you’re angry with me, and I don’t deny that you have a right to be.  But you do understand why I couldn’t let you go,” Dumbledore said cautiously.  It wasn’t a question.

Remus’s face contorted in pain and he averted his eyes, feeling them start to brim with frustrated tears.  “I just want to make sure he’s alright,” he finally choked out.  

“I can assure you that Harry Potter is safe,” Dumbledore said calmly.  

“You assured me James and Lily were safe, too!” Remus said angrily, a surge of courage coming to him.  “How can I believe anything you say anymore?”

“What happened at Godric’s Hollow was a tragedy none of us could have foreseen.  But Harry is with his aunt and uncle now, his only family—”

“So I don’t count as family, then?” Remus scowled and clenched his cup in his hand so hard he thought he might break it.  “Lily’s sister all but disowned her, you know that!  She used to cry about it to me, did you know that too?  Of all the places to send their son—Muggles, no less—he’ll completely lost when it comes time for him to go to Hogwarts.”

“As he should be.” Dumbledore maintained his level tone despite Remus’s increasingly agitated one.  “The front page of the paper is no place for a child to grow up.”

“And a Muggle neighborhood where he’ll have no idea where he came from is?  The poor boy will never know his parents, Albus, and now you’re keeping his—our—whole world from him too!  The truth will be more of a shock to him when he turns eleven than it would be if he grew up knowing it.”

Dumbledore looked at Remus with such a piercing stare that it sobered the younger man up considerably.  “I have nothing but Harry’s best interests at heart.  When the proper time comes, he’ll learn.  Until then, I am confident he is in good care, away from all this.”

After a deep breath, Remus said more calmly, “I just want to see him, so he knows he’s, he’s got someone.”  

Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at Remus with as close to a disapproving look as he could muster towards the young man who not long ago was one of the best students he’d ever seen.  “You’re not stable, Remus—”

“Well, Harry and I’ll have that in common one day won’t we?!  Living the way he prob’ly is with that lot, that’d fuck anyone up f—” he was starting to slur his words again, not even bothering to watch his language.

“—and what’s more, you have barely got the means to take care of yourself, let alone a child that is not yours.”

“I’m not asking to raise him!” Remus spluttered, “Just to see him, a few times a year!  I’m the only person he might even recognize from before V—before they died.  You’d think you could lift th’protective charms for me of all people, I’m his godfather!”

Dumbledore shook his head.  “No, you are not.”

“W-well…I’m as good as!  Seeing as the real one’s a damn traitor.” Remus spat on the floor and made a move to get up, but Dumbledore raised his hand slightly and Remus sat back down sulkily.  Neither man said anything for a few moments.  The sounds of the Leaky Cauldron that filled their lull in conversation—muffled laughter, the voices of carolers walking down the street outside, glasses clinking against each other in a toast to good tidings—seemed unusually loud and obnoxious to Remus.

“I did bring you this,” Dumbledore said finally, reaching into the depths of his emerald robes.  “A Christmas gift, if you will.”

Remus scoffed.  Dumbledore held out a small square envelope and nodded at Remus to take it.  He did, and downed the very last drops of his wine before opening it.  Inside was a small stack of photographs.  He looked at them with a mixture of elation and terrible sadness.  There was Lily’s hand at the edge of the frame, slowly rocking a tiny moving cradle with an even tinier baby Harry inside.   One-year-old Harry on a toy broomstick, held up by what were unmistakably Peter’s thin hands as the pair zoomed around, James and Lily laughing as they held their fussing baby boy.  Remus held back a sob; these couldn’t have been taken long ago.  How had they had no idea that in such a short time they’d all be betrayed by their own friend?

“They were recovered in Godric’s Hollow in the days afterwards,” Dumbledore said, and Remus nodded, his throat too thick from holding back tears to say anything.  He got to the last photograph, an unusually still shot of Harry in a larger crib next to another baby boy who had much chubbier cheeks.  “I do keep in contact with Lily’s sister when necessary,” Dumbledore explained.  The only thing that looked different about Harry himself was the jagged scar on his forehead.

“I know it’s not easy, Remus,” Dumbledore whispered.  “But I promise you, Harry is exactly where he needs to be.  So, I might add, is Sirius Black.”

Remus flipped through the photos again, furrowing his brow as Dumbledore’s last comment registered in his foggy mind. That seemed an odd thing to say.  Of course Sirius was where he deserved to be, there was no doubt about that.  He’d done something Remus would have sooner died than do: he sold James and Lily to Voldemort, and by extension betrayed and belittled everything the Order had ever worked towards. Not to mention at least a dozen people—and Merlin knows how many more—were dead because of him.  How none of them ever saw it coming was a question that plagued Remus’s mind to no end.

“Thank you, sir,” Remus finally said with difficulty.  “I owe you an—” He looked up to shake Dumbledore’s hand, but as swiftly as he had appeared, the man was already gone.

.
..

..
.
And so begins my newest Harry Potter fic! Please let me know what you think, any feedback is more than welcome it make my Patronus stronger!  

Follow if you want to be notified when the next chapter is up :)

-C

Better

Dean Ambrose x OC.

Summary:  After finding out the OC has a sex toy, they make a bet on who can pleasure her the quickest and the best. Wonder who’s going to win that bet…
Warning: Smut


“My old roommate had an entire drawer full of sex toys.” I said, taking a sip of wine. Dean raised his brows at me in disbelief. “Vibrators, whips, anal beads, you name it, she had it.”

“A drawer? Why a drawer?” He scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink - whiskey on the rocks. A taste I normally cringe at.

“What do you mean “why a drawer”? It’s the perfect place to keep them, right in your nightstand. Easy access.” I shrugged, taking another sip of wine, this time finishing off the glass.

How we got on the topic of sex toys, I couldn’t even tell you.

We’ve been out on my terrace for 2 hours now, covering a variety of topics.

Everything from buying a donkey in Mexico (literally something he dreams of doing one day) to shooting clay animated elves (something I would prefer to do over buying a donkey in Mexico) and now sex toys.

“Really?” He mumbled, pushing his lips together as he thought.

All I could think about was how hot he was when he was deep in thought.

It was no secret Dean Ambrose was insanely hot. I’m sure he knew it. Girls swoon over him left and right. Especially when he’s in the ring and he taps into that “lunatic fringe” side of him. The way he moves, the grunts that escape his lips, how animalistic he becomes. Surely enough all of their panties were dripping by the end of his match. I know mine were every time.

I bit my lip, shaking off the image as stood. I chalked my candid thoughts up to the 4th glass of wine I was about to pour myself. I thought ahead and brought the bottle out with me, something I am definitely thankful for now.

“How would you know?” he asked with a wild grin on his face.

I bit my bottom lip, “Umm…” I stalled, sitting back down. I thought of my response. Normally, I would just shrug it off and crack a joke, skillfully transitioning into another topic.

But I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

I turned my head away, glancing up at the dark sky illuminated by the full moon. I shivered from the cool breeze that was now rolling in. The only thing keeping us warm in the cool Nevada air was the fire pit directly in front of us.

“That’s where I keep mine.” I admitted as I looked down at my glass.

“Ahhh, I like the sound of that.” His gruff voice sparked something inside of me. I looked at him as he positioned his body towards me. “What do ya got?” His brows were raised curiously.

“A vibrator.” I felt my cheeks burn, so I did the one thing I knew would help ease the embarrassment - drink more wine.

“Oh really?” He seemed very intrigued as a small smirk played on his lips.

“Yeah,” I shrugged, taking another sip of wine. “It doesn’t really look like a dick though. And it’s pink. But regardless, Bob really gets the job done.” I rambled on nervously, immediately wanting to kick myself for the words that just escaped my mouth.

“Bob? You named your vibrator?”

“Um… yeah. Well, it stands for Battery Operated Boyfriend…” I trailed off before taking another gulp of wine even though I know that the rest of the bottle won’t ease the awkwardness of the conversation I just got myself into.

“Interesting.” He mumbled, nodding his head. “Mmm…” he thought. I raised my brows, turning my head towards him, still drinking down the wine.

“What?” I asked hesitantly.

There was no telling what was going on in that little lunatic’s mind.

He shook his head, slowly running his tongue over his bottom lip. I pushed my lips together, watching curiously as he leaned forward to set his glass down on the stone wall of the fire pit. When he turned towards me, he reached for my glass and pulled it away, even with my protests.

“Really Dean?! What gives?” I asked.

Dean let out a throaty chuckle as he placed his hand on my bare knee. He moved his rough palm up my leg painfully slow as if to tease me.

“Why don’t we see who really gets the job done?” he leaned in close, growling in my ear. His mouth attached itself to my neck, nipping at it. I felt a burning sensation between my thighs as his fingertips grazed the hem of my shorts.

“Mmm.. I think I have a pretty good idea of who’s going to…” I moaned.

He smirked against my neck, bringing his lips to my ear. “And who’s that?”

I knew what he wanted to hear, but I wasn’t going to give into him that easily.

“Probably Bob.” I smirked as he pulled back, his brows raised with disdain.

“Oh yeah?” He scoffed. Before I got a chance to respond, he pulled me to my feet and pulled my body against his with his hands placed firmly on my waist. “We’ll see about that.”

I could tell he was taking it as a challenge. And Dean Ambrose never turns down a challenge.

His lips closed in on mine. I shuddered as his lips finally pressed against mine, the taste of sweet whiskey still lingered on his lips. I was quick to kiss back, as I have been waiting to feel his soft lips against mine since I met him a few months back.

It was only a matter of seconds before his tongue grazed my bottom lip, begging for entrance. I didn’t want to let him in, not yet anyway. I wanted to savor this moment and tease him in the process.

It didn’t take long for him to catch on. “So you’re gonna be like that now…” He grunted.

And when he didn’t get what he wanted, he always found another way of getting it.

He snaked his hands underneath my ass, lifting me up in one swift motion. I gasped at the surprise of it, leaving my mouth vulnerable. He took his chance without hesitation, his tongue slipping into my mouth while I wrapped my legs around him.

As he carefully made his way inside, our lips never parted once. My fingers were tangled in his hair, his hands digging into my ass, pushing my body against him as if it were possible to be any closer. I broke the kiss to take a breath.

I felt his lips on my neck once again, latching on and taking the sensitive skin between his teeth, pulling back, causing a moan to escape from my throat. It hurt, but the pain only sent a pulsating jolt through my entire body.

He dropped his hands the second we reached the bedroom. He went straight for the nightstand. I swiftly pulled my shirt over my head and unclasped my bra, not wanting to waste any more time. I unbuttoned my shorts, letting them fall to the ground as I heard him shut the drawer.

“Lay down,” Dean ordered, nodding his head towards the bed. I bit my lip, doing as I was told and laid down in the middle of the bed. He tossed the vibrator next to me as his eyes scanned my body. The only thing I had left on were my purple lace panties. “Leave those on.” he said, looking at me with hunger in his eyes. “Do what you normally do when you’re alone, I want to watch you.”

I’ve never seen this side of him, but hell did it turn me on.

I turned the vibrator on as he pulled his own shirt over his head with haste, he didn’t want to miss anything. I spread my legs, bringing the vibrator down to my panties, teasing myself from the outside. I already knew I didn’t need to that much, as I was already so wet.

A moan escaped my lips when I moved my panties to the side, the vibration coming into contact with my bare skin. I let it linger for a moment, glancing over at Dean, who was staring at me, already rubbing himself through his jeans. I slid the vibrator in with ease, slick from our heated exchange just moments ago.

He pulled his pants down just enough to pull his cock out. My eyes widened at his length as I continued moving my hand in and out at a steady pace.

I closed my eyes, moaning louder. A little louder than I normally did. I wanted him to know how much pleasure it was giving me because of our little bet earlier.

It was only for show though, as all I was imagining was his hard cock inside of me instead.

The image nearly sent me over the edge. Right as I felt the pressure building inside of me, prepping for a release, I felt a hand over mine and then nothing. I opened my eyes after hearing a thud against the floor. The bed shifted and Dean was now on top of me, ripping off my panties before positioning himself at my entrance.

Before I could even take a breath, he pushed his entire length inside of me, giving no time for me to adjust to his size.

“Oh god, Dean!” I cried out, grabbing the sheets as my back arched from the intense pressure.

He smirked at my reaction, it was only his driving force.

He pulled out slowly, but only before slamming himself back into me with the same intensity as before. He continued to do this a few more times, getting the same reaction with each thrust.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he grunted with each thrust. He repositioned himself, putting my left leg over his shoulder and he was quick to fall back into a quick and steady pace.

With every thrust, I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge. “You were right…” I breathed out.

“Right about what baby?” he groaned in my ear.

“You’re cock is so much better!” I moaned, my hands finding their way to his toned abs. “Mmm, yes, right there! I’m so close Dean…”

“I’m gonna make you cum so much harder and faster than that thing ever could,” His fingers found their way to my clit, rubbing in a steady and circular motion. I moaned, rolling my head to the side. It was only a matter of seconds before I felt the pressure begin to build once again.

My nails dug into his shoulders as I screamed out, my body crumbling beneath him as I came. Hard and so fast. Just as he promised.

His thrusts fell out of a steady pace seconds later, becoming sharp and more erratic. He quickly pulled himself out, grabbing onto his cock right as his cum squirted out onto my stomach.

We both collapsed back onto the bed, trying to catch our breath.

“Mmm, that felt so good Dean.” I sighed as he placed soft kisses on my still heaving chest.

“Good,” he kissed my neck. “Because now I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be begging me to stop.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

shouldvehadatveit  asked:

Steve proposing?

-Surprisingly not as nervous as he thought he’d be
-,,,Until he sees you walking towards him 
-Sweaty hands
-You guys are at the park you went to on your first date
-He has a blanket for the two of you to sit on and your favourite bottle of wine
-He pulls out the wine bottle and sets his own glass in front of him
-He hands you your glass
-You noticed the ring sitting in the bottom and slowly pull it out
-”Steve?” you ask timidly, tears in your eyes
-He takes the ring from your hand and gets down on one knee
-You can see tears glinting in his eyes as he asks you to marry him 

anonymous asked:

How about 11) things you said when you were drunk. I'd prefer if it was before they "got together" maybe even very early in their partnership however you are an amazing writer and overall awesome so i'll shut up and let you write whatever you want. you sharing your writing is blessing enough.

“The Fourth Glass - Things You Said When I Was Drunk” 

Slightly NSFW

@2momsmakearight

One glass of wine makes her belly warm, her limbs relaxed. Two glasses make her head foggy, her lips loose (secrets threaten to spill, and have). Three glasses of wine and Dana Scully feels no pain. There’s a delicate balance between the second and third. Senses already dulled at the second makes the third so much easier to pour… But the third, the third leaves her wanting, lonely, emotions she has worked so hard to keep below the surface bubble up for much-needed air. She only drinks a third in the privacy of her own home, with sweet-smelling bubbles around her body, where the fantasies of her mind can come alive.

(more after cut)

Keep reading

Queen’s Orders

Author Note: Finally got a chance to finish one of those requests! Now that I’m out of school, perhaps I’ll be able to get the rest done! Enjoy!

Words: 624

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings/ The Hobbit

Pairing: Thranduil/ Reader

Warnings: None really. 

Summary: Thranduil’s entranced in his work. Reader wants a little attention. 

Request: For the drabble thing: 15 and Thranduil x reader :3 - Anonymous

15. “So, I found this waterfall…”


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

#57 #66 with happy pretty please

  • #57: Character buying the Reader some lingerie

He had Lyla meet him at the store she recommended to him. 

“I thought you had this all worked out.” She said when he pulled up. 

He shrugged, “Figured you’d have a better idea on what’s practical.” 

She laughed, “Practical Hap? I don’t think lingerie works that way.” 

He rolled his eyes and stomped past her into the store. The second he walked in his eyes widened. There were too many options. He didn’t know where to start. Lyla strode past him and beckoned him to follow him to the back. 

“Everything in the front is more for show.” She explained as she walked, “Not actually easy to work with if you’re going to be having sex. The back is where you want to look for stuff that works with sex.” 

He nodded as he followed and she led him right to the section of the store that housed all the baby dolls, two pieces and tied numbers. She began perusing the racks, picking out a random assortment of styles and handing them to him. 

“Y/N’s around a medium right?” She murmured to herself, “Those hips of hers wouldn’t fit into a small. God, I love the size of her ass. It’s just so perfect.” 

Happy raised an eyebrow at Lyla and she giggled, “What? She’s freaking hot. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what the other guys say about her when they think you aren’t listening.” 

He smirked, licking his lips. Lyla rolled her eyes and shoved another hanger at him. He held up the group of garments and chewed on his cheek, trying to figure out which one would suit you the best. Lyla crossed her arms and tapped her hands on the rack, waiting for him to make a decision. Finally he picked the all black three piece, complete with thigh high stockings and the blood red tie on top and bottoms. 

Lyla stuck her lip out in approval, “Good choices. Let’s go.” 

~(xXx)~

He pulled up to the house, hearing the music you were blasting through the closed door. He grabbed the small bag out of his saddle bag and swallowed. You’d never worn lingerie around him before and he wasn’t sure how’d you take the surprise. He didn’t want to offend you, he just thought it was a good idea for a present. He pushed the door open and you were standing in the living room, drinking from a bottle of wine. You smiled brightly at him when he shut the door. 

“Happy!” You dropped the bottle down and bound over to him. You jumped into his arms and kissed down his neck, “I missed you.” 

He grunted, appreciating the affection. Once he got a handle on himself, he grumbled, “I got you something.” 

You jumped down with a squeal and he handed you the bag. You opened your mouth with a naughty wink. 

“Hap…” You trailed off as you pulled out the red one. You glanced up at him, giving him a wink, “I should try it on right now.” 

You draped the hanger over the median and pulled your shirt up over your head. Next you undid your jeans and slid them down your legs. When you reached for your panties, Happy growled and scooped you up into his arms. 

“Later.” He growled, carrying you over to the couch. 

  • #66: Reader losing virginity

“You sure?” Happy asked you for the hundredth time. 

You rolled your eyes with a groan, “Hap! If I didn’t want to do this you wouldn’t be in my room without any clothes on.” 

He raised his eyebrows up at your tone. Your nostrils flared at him reverting back into the killer. 

“Be careful…” He trailed off in warning. 

You waved your hand ignoring his threat, “What’re you going to do? Not have sex with me? I do believe that’s already the problem.” 

You’d been seeing Happy for at least six months now. Neither of you really spoke about sex before. It was implied that it would happen eventually but you were feeling each other out. What surprised Happy the most was when he discovered you’d never actually had sex before. You had to explain to him that it wasn’t for not wanting too, it was just the hand you were dealt. You’d never been in a serious enough relationship to contemplate it and you weren’t the type to go out and have one night stands. Not that you had issues with them, you just didn’t know how to go about doing that. Once he learned of your virginity he tried to stop dating you. You yelled at him, told to stop being a little baby. You weren’t a glass doll. He wasn’t going to break you just because you’d never had sex before. It took you two long months to convince just to get naked with you. Now here you were starting up the same old argument. 

“I’m at my wits end, Hap.” You growled. You were kneeling now, completely naked and pointing and accusatory finger at him, “This is happening dammit! You are going to have sex with me.” 

He cracked a smirk at your attitude and you reached out to smack him playfully. He dodged your hand and you lunged off the bed at him. He caught you mid air and flung you around, both of you hitting the floor. 

He laughed at you, “You can’t even master dirty talk.” You scrunched up your nose in annoyance and he nipped at your collar bone, “If you knew anything about me, you’d know that I’m going to fuck you. Not just have sex with you.” 

You gasped at his cursing and arched your back, lining your body against his. He growled in your ear. 

“You really want this.” He asked again. 

You grabbed his face, smashing your lips into his and biting down on his lip, “Fuck me Happy. Be my first. Make me scream your name.” 

He hoisted you up at your words and flung you down onto the bed. You let out a giggle of excitement and he obliged you. Guiding you through every step, slow at first getting you used to the feeling and then showing you what he could really do to make you feel good. 

Baby Just Say Yes (Part 1)

I saw someone wanted a karmy proposal fic, which made me want one, so I just wrote one instead. I’m still writing End Up Here and that’s ongoing so this is going to just be a oneshot in two parts (a two shot?). Anyway, it’s also a future fic, Karma and Amy are in their early 20’s and have been together since about sixteen years old by now. I do believe that is all the needed pertinent info. Hope you guys like it for what it’s worth. 

Keep reading

Words from the bottom of the bottle

Don’t you remember?

The way the light played off the morning dew after we stayed up
     all night talking about how it’s all going to end

The spaces in the conversation on all those hours long phone calls,
     all the “still there?"s

The tree on the ridge that bent to a real crook, that I thought I could
     climb, but couldn’t

The night I ate mushrooms with Marty and was fearful of the pulsing
     night sky throbbing above

The taste of your red wine and my cigarettes folding together
     in a hot moment

The smell of the bonfire a few blocks down when you cried on the
     front steps

The hungry feeling after I got ripped off in Denver and we got to L.A.,
     with $4 to spare, no safety net

The lash of flames against your cheek when I burned my novel and the
     whole damned can went up

The quick flutter of the heart when you woke up, whisky worn off,
     and felt the warm touch of my shoulder against yours

The light sort of rain that fell the day you took a chance on a better man,
     how it fell with more scent than substance

I collect these moments like stones to carry toward some unknown destination, some place atop the hill, a backward sort of place where you still remember my name