#HEY HEY TALK TO ME ABOUT HOW THE LEFT BREAST OVER RIGHT IS FOR THE BODY OF THE DEFUNCT AND WHITE IS THE COLOR OF GRIEF IN JAPANESE CULTURE

[terresdebrume]

Outlook no so good, says the magic eight ball again. Niko has excellent reading comprehension skills and with life, as with literature, denial only gets you so far. Niko breathes. She doesn't cry. It's a surprise. She thinks most people would.

"Aaaaw," says Litty in a mocking tone, "you don't like what the ball has to tell you?"

"Awe you gonna cwy?" Kingham adds, pretending to wipe his eyes.

Niko looks at them. She doesn't think they ever seemed so small before. She thinks she feels sad for them.

"I don't think I'm going to do that," Niko tells them.

She puts them under the sweater. Walks to her closet. Outlook not so good. Well. The message was clear, and Niko has excellent reading comprehension skills.

She didn't bring any full kimono, when she came here, but she has a silvery ensemble that will do the job nicely. She changes into the pants first. Then the top, left panel over right. She puts on the belt that looks like an obi.

She thinks: at least my hair is ready. She goes through her jewelry box like it's something sacred, and pulls on all her white rings and her white pearls. She finds the white nail polish she wore for her father's funeral, and brought to America because she felt bad about throwing the mostly full bottle away.

She paints her nails with more care than she's needed in years. She breathes. She prepares. She does not cry. The bright pink glitter on her eyes fails to make her smile. When she lifts the sweater from the jar again, Litty and Kingham stare at her, open mouthed.

"What the fuck?" Says Kingham first.

"Is that supposed to be a sexy snowman cosplay?" Says Litty. "You gonna go out there and seduce the bigfoot?"

Niko crouches to put her eyes level with them. She does not shiver. She does not cry. When she speaks, there is no tremor in her voice.

"You know, if you had been nicer to me, I'd let you out now."

"What?"

"What?"

She goes to the roof. When Edwin joins her, he says:

"Niko. You do not want to catch your death."

"I won't," Niko says.

After all, Niko has excellent reading comprehension skills.

She knows who'll catch up first.

(Reblogs make the world go round! Consider reblogging this if you enjoyed the snippet^^)

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day thirdteen.

Ass or Tits? (1.4k words)

summary: Who would’ve thought? Lando Norris is a tits guy.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, unprotected sex.

You wouldn’t say it was a known fact that Lando was an ass guy, but some people knew this about him for some reason. That’s also what you thought when you first started dating, or the first few times you had sex, he would always pay special attention to your ass. 

That was until one hot summer day you were wearing a dress that left very little to the imagination, resting so low on your cleavage that it nearly showed everything you had. You didn’t think it was doing your boobs a favour, but you had to admit they looked great, and your boyfriend agreed.

Since you came out of your room that morning wearing that dress, you caught him slightly eying your chest, which led him to be way more interested in your boobs, not only for the rest of the day, but any time he had a chance; nothing too obvious, but you could tell he was constantly thinking about it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, wanting to save him from embarrassment, but you decided to tease him one day, “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

His eyes widened and his face turned red right away “I wasn’t looking." He said, shaking his head and making you laugh.

But you now knew how much he loved them, since it became a common occurrence that any time you had sex, his hands would constantly land there. Now, instead of grabbing and squeezing your ass, he would give all his attention to your boobs; staring when they bounced on top of him, playing with one as the other one had a mouth wrapped around it; it was anything, really, so from that moment you decided to take it further, not in an evident way but just enough for him to notice. 

It started with tank tops when it was too hot outside, and you would purposefully lean over in front of him or cross your arms to show a little more. At first he didn’t know what you were doing; he was honestly enjoying the view, but as soon as the weather started to change and you were still wearing low-cut shirts and dresses, he started to get suspicious.

He kept it to himself though, not wanting to make an accusation like that until he was completely sure. Until one day his suspicions were confirmed when, while you were cuddling in his hotel room, you pulled him closer to you, making him rest closer to where your chest was.

He smirked and finally said, “I know what you’re doing." He sat up and turned to look at you with accusatory eyes.

“What do you mean?” You replied innocently, shrugging your shoulders and looking at him expectantly.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” He asked in a lower voice, weirdly making you get a little excited.

You shook your head and kept your innocent gaze, but you knew exactly where this was going.

“Why don’t you tell me how cold it’s outside?" Lando pulled you up and guided your body to his lap, hands caressing your thighs once you were comfortably sitting on him. “Mhm?” He hummed when he got no response.

You looked out of the window and were met with a cloudy sky. The sun was long gone, and the dark day threatened with rain instead. “It looks warm to me.” 

“Really? Cause I think it’s too cold for you to be wearing these tiny dresses, and yet here you  are." His hands were running up and down your body, squeezing your sides every now and then. “Wanna tell me why?”

“I’m not cold,” you responded, not giving in. His smirk grew bigger at the game you were playing. It was only a matter of time until he caught up to your intentions. Usually, you would be wearing many layers at the smallest hint of a cold day, which hasn’t been the case since your little discovery.

He looked down at your breasts and quickly looked back at you. “So these have nothing to do with your outfit choices?” You shook your head once again, this time biting your lip as you waited for him to do something.

“Why? Are you getting distracted?” 

“Do you want me to? Is that what you have been trying to do all this time?” He questioned, his hands travelling closer and closer to your heat. “Is this what you want?”

You let out a shaky breath, grabbing a handful of his shirt. He repeated the question, and this time, you were quick to nod, growing a little desperate.

“Turn around,” he demanded. You happily complied, quickly getting up from his lap and collapsing back on it, with your back now pressing against his strong chest, giving him full access to your boobs. “Poor baby, putting up with the cold weather just to show off your boobs.”

He was whispering next to your ear, his hands now finding your desperate breasts. He slowly started to take off your dress, your hot skin making him hard by the second. You allowed him to undress you and slightly started to move your hips, creating a little friction, but he made you stop.

“Not so fast." He was taking his time, kissing your shoulder while one of his hands played with your boobs and the other with your clothed clit. At this point, you were a whimpering mess, but God, you needed more, so when Lando finally lifted you up a little to pull down his own pants and underwear, you let out an excited but desperate moan.

He didn’t even bother to get rid of your panties, just moving them to the side enough to slide his cock into you. You both let out a loud moan, not even considering keeping it down so the people next to your room wouldn’t hear you.

You quickly set the perfect pace; you were sinking into him while he grabbed both of your boobs, slightly squeezing them as his fingers played with your nipples from time to time, and you loved it. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, his voice low and raspy from the pleasure he was feeling, and you frantically nodded.

One of your hands was holding onto his forearm for dear life as your other one travelled down your body to rub soft circles on your clit; you knew you wouldn’t last long, suddenly feeling hyperaware of where his hands were resting.

You tried to chase your orgasm by increasing the pace, but your legs were getting so tired that you were struggling. He noticed this, so he decided to help you; his hips stated thrusting up in you to meet you half way as his hands used his hold on your boobs to guide your movements, the added pressure making you moan.

“I didn’t know your boobs enjoyed the attention this much, my love. Do you like it when I hold you like this?” He asked, biting your shoulder. You nodded in response, your moans becoming louder the closer you got. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you are close.”

Your bouncing became sloppier as you felt your orgasm coming, walls squeezing him with every snap of your skin. “I’m- so close.” You mumbled, making him thrust into you harder.

It only took a flicker of your nipple to push you over the edge, your body shaking in pleasure against him as he chased his own orgasm. Both your hands were now holding onto him as your head fell on his shoulder, feeling his cock hit your g-spot over and over again; it felt like too much.

After a few more thrusts, you could feel the hot liquid spill inside your pussy, his head falling back in pure ecstasy as his movements came to a stop.

Lando collapsed back on the bed, pulling you with him so you relaxed against his chest. Both of you stayed there trying to catch your breath, his now softening cock still buried in you as his hands carresed your naked torso.

“Who would’ve thought? Lando Norris is a tits guy.” You whispered after a few minutes of silence.

He couldn’t contain his laugh, your words making him go back to get a hold of your boobs again. “Can’t help it, baby. Have you seen these?” He said as he gave them a squeeze, your lips setting into a subtle smirk. “Now, why don’t you ride me so I can get a full view of your pretty tits? Mhm?”

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[subbmissivesuccubus]

Bully Part 3

A/n: Happy new year/ New year's eve everyone! As promised, here is part 3. Thank you all for following and supporting me these last few months. Here's to a great year of smut ahead <3 <3 <3 I hope you enjoy your favorite pervy menaces <3

Disclaimer: Gojo X Geto X Fem!Reader. DUB-CON WARNING. READER ENJOYS WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HER BUT IT’S MESSY!!! Blackmail!!! Humiliation. Degradation. Free-use dynamics. Spankings. Public sex. Filming. Gojo gives a stranger permission to touch reader!!!

"Who knew the three of them were...well...like that." Utahime said, immediately gossiping once the taxi started to move. "I can't say I'm surprised though." Shoko said, "They're practically attached at the hip."

The girls and Nanami were sharing a cab to get back to their dorms, gossiping about what had happened during dinner. It was a fun night of drinks and banter, ended with their friend being kissed by Gojo and Geto. When asked about the nature of their relationship, the two men responded by saying they were…fuck buddies.

"She could do better." Utahime said, "I don't get why she's settling for those assholes."

Nanami looked out the window as he allowed the chatter to wash over him, not really paying attention. His mind couldn't help but go back to a week ago when he and Gojo were in class together, the only ones there and he noticed his lock screen...

"Gojo, what the fuck?" Nanami snarled as he looked at Gojo's phone, his screen flashing up as he received a message. There was a naked woman's photo set up as his lock screen, her face out of frame to accommodate her breasts and her spread legs and Nanami didn't want to even think about what was dripping out of them.

"Oh, my bad." Gojo said casually as he picked up his phone, "But she's hot right? She's my new fuck buddy~"

"Not interested." Nanami said, clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Just keep that shit to yourself. Why do you have that as your phone background?"

Before he got an answer, Geto and you walked into the room, asking them what they were talking about and when Gojo showed them the screen, Nanami noted your reaction. He didn't too much of it at the time, assuming your flustered and angered expression was over how vulgar Gojo was but now he wondered...

No. There's no way that was you, right?

Right?

~~~~~

"What the fuck was that?!" you screeched once Gojo closed the door of the taxi, smacking them both across the shoulders, "Why would you say shit like that?! Telling everyone we're fuck buddies- what will they think of me!?"

"It's the truth, right? Stop your bitching." Geto snarled on your left.

"Exactly. I'd rather you use your mouth for something else." Gojo said on your right, his fingers moving to tug at his pants, starting to undo his belt.

"Wh-What the fuck are you-" you sputtered, your eyes flickering over to the taxi driver who seemed to be paying you no mind but-

"Oh, don't worry about him. He works for my family." Gojo said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants before he tapped on the driver’s seat, "Hey, you don't mind if this whore sucks my cock back here, do you?"

You yelped at Gojo's words, face a bright red as you heard the taxi driver chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, boss." he said, not even looking back as he put up the divider, giving the three of them some privacy.

"There we go. Happy?" Gojo asked as he leaned back against the leather seat, his arm reaching up to grab you by the back of your head. You gasped as he gripped onto a handful of your hair and tugged harshly, his hold on your unrelenting as he started to pull your head down to his lap.

"Get to sucking."

~~~~~

Oh God.

Oh God.

You ran your hands through your hair, eyes wide as you went over what happened last night. You had hoped it was a dream but...it wasn't. You got fingered in the restaurant, got kissed in front of everybody by your bullies before said bullies announced that you were all fuck buddies.

They got you back to one of Gojo's penthouses, (the bastard so rich he had multiple houses he could just use whenever he wanted) and once you reached it, having sucked them both off in the taxi, they cleaned you up the best they could before the three of you passed out on the bed. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, too drunk and loopy to do anything else.

Which is how you found yourself in between them, the two men still sleeping as you contemplated moving country and changing your identity.

To your right, Gojo groaned, his eyes pressing tightly as he fought away the need to wake up, moving from his back to his side and throwing an arm around you. You froze as he pressed himself close to you, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "Fuuuuck..." he cursed, frowning, "My head is killing me..."

"Don't make it our problem." Geto groaned, woken up by his own hangover and Gojo's whining. He looked over at you, taking your appearance in, looking quite delectable in Gojo's oversized t-shirt.

"Mmph- gimme those tits..." Geto said as he fisted the hem of your t-shirt before he pulled it up harshly, bunching it all underneath your chin. You gasped as he immediately leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it a few times before he sealed his lips around it. A groan on content left his throat as he started suckling on you gently, truly using your boobs as stress relief for his hangover, the pressure at which he sucked your nipple increasing and decreasing at a slow pace.

"I-I hate you two." you said even as a hand came up to thread through Geto's hair, watching as he closed his eyes and suckled on you. It was honestly a bit soothing, feeling him suckle on you gently and not maul on your nipple the way they usually did. Gojo grunted as he too moved down your body and took your other breast into his mouth, sloppier than Geto but still suckling on you hard enough to make your toes curl.

"Oh God...people are going to think I’m a whore..." you lamented, tossing your head back and accepting your fate, fingers threading through their hair as they used your body. "It's accurate." Geto teased, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before going back to sucking. "Exactly. And who cares what they think." Gojo said, running his tongue over the plush of your breast, making your whole boob wet with his saliva, "You're our whore and that's all you'll be."

"Whatever." you said, not even having the energy to argue. You simply lied down, almost going back to sleep from the sensation of them gently nursing on you. But within five minutes, Gojo was bored.

"Come on, let's go take a shower." Gojo said, pushing himself up with a groan as he got off the bed, but not before grabbing your wrist. Geto growled as Gojo pulled at you, not appreciating being interrupted as he wrapped his arms around you and glared at his friend even as he continued to suckle.

"Don't look at me like that." Gojo said, sticking out his tongue, "You can take her after I play with her."

'Play with her' meant him taking you to the shower and running his hands all over your body like a pervert, squeezing your flesh and washing every nook and cranny as he ordered you to stay still. Sometimes he'd fuck you- other time's he'd simply jerk off and cum on you- always something new with Gojo.

Geto growled, making you shiver at the sensation around your sensitive bud before he pulled away with a pop, a hickey already forming on the fat of your breast.

"Let's all shower together." he said, sitting up as well, "We have a mission today and the principal will kill us if we're late."

Oh right. You were assigned a mission with these two menaces. And if it wasn't tough enough dealing with them before they started fucking you, you can only imagine the shit you're going to have to put up with now. You sighed as the two men grabbed you and lifted you off of the bed, taking the t-shirt off of you and smacking your ass before pushing you towards the bathroom for a very...thorough bath.

~~~~~

"What's with the face?" Geto asked, tapping his finger on his arm as he waited for Gojo to finish getting dressed, "Doesn't it fit?"

"This- I can't wear this! It’s too short!" you protested, tugging at the skirt...if you could even call it that. You were wearing the school uniform but instead of your usual pants, the boys had demanded you wear something else. A mini skirt. The skirt only reached your thighs, even the slightest movements threatening to flash your whole ass.

"Might as well give the curses something to ogle at before they die." Geto teased, looking you up and down, nodding his head in satisfaction.

"Fuck you! I'm not wearing this!" you said, pressing your legs together as you reached for your discarded pants. But before you could even touch the fabric, you felt a sharp pain on your behind, a slap so loud and hard that it made you yelp, the force pushing you face first onto the bed. You whipped your head around, face hot as Geto stood above you, pushing up the skirt a bit to marvel at the red handprint he left behind.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." he said as he pulled his phone out, pointing the camera at you and you couldn't stop him from taking a picture, "But it would be a shame if I accidentally sent this to the schools group chat~"

"...I'll wear it."

"Smart girl." Geto said with a laugh, the sound making your ears heat up in embarrassment. It made you shiver, thinking about all the material they had on you. Pictures, videos, text messages... they continued to torment you and it didn't seem like they'd get bored anytime soon.

And neither would you.

"Get on your knees and keep your face down." Geto ordered, still pointing his phone at you while he used the other hand to push the skirt up entirely, bunching it at your waist and exposing your panties, "Shake your hips. Grind that ass on me."

You gasped as you felt him move forward and press his crotch against your ass, his hardening cock obvious even through the fabric. He started to gently dry hump you, a somewhat bored expression on his face, like it was a chore to use your body to get off. He landed another sharp spank on your butt, reminding you that he was waiting for you to follow orders.

You bit your lower lip, fisting the bed-sheet tightly as you did as he asked, wiggling your hips and shaking your butt against Geto, gasping as you felt him grow harder against you. As you continued to shake, the door opened and Gojo walked in, dressed in his uniform as well.

He whistled as he watched the two of you, noting the redness of your ass cheeks. "Was she being naughty?" he asked, taking Geto's phone from him and continuing to film, giving his friend free reign to humiliate you easier.  "She tried to be." Geto said, reeling his hand back and spanking a cheek one more time before he grabbed your hips tightly, "But you know how she is. It's easy to put her in her place."

You yelped as Geto started to thrust against you, pushing his clothed erection against your clothed cunt as he dry humped you, the flesh of your butt rippling against him as he fake fucked you. Somehow, this felt more embarrassing than if he actually stuffed his cock inside you- it was like he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort but still wanted some pleasure.

He humped you a few times before he called it, pushing your hips away from him and making you collapse on the bed, your knees giving out as you panted against the bedsheet, face red hot with shame. You barely processed Gojo coming behind you, sliding his hand up your waist before he whisked your panties off, tugging them off of your legs before throwing them to the side. You were about to spread your legs, assuming the man was either going to eat you out or fuck you but he simply gave your butt a pat before saying:

"Get up. We gotta go."

"Wh-huh?" you babbled, watching as Gojo grabbed your skirt and pulled it down over your butt, the fabric barely covering you. You pushed yourself off of the bed and stood up, ears flushed as you once again were made aware of just how short the miniskirt was. All it took was for one small movement for anyone to see your privates. "Th-then why did you-"

"You thought being spanked was your punishment?" Gojo asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Nah. You don't get to wear panties."

"No- You can't!" you protested, pressing your hand between your legs, trying to pretend like your cunt wasn't gushing.

"Principal is asking if we've left yet." Geto said, interrupting the conversation, "I could send him a picture of you over Gojo's knee, getting your ass spanked and explain exactly why we're running late. Shall we do that?"

"...Let's go."

Gojo’s driver from last night was picking the three of you up and to your horror but not surprise, Gojo ordered you to sit in the passenger’s seat. You could feel the driver’s eyes on you as you tried to get into the car without flashing him, all decency thrown out the window as you practically covered your bare pussy with your hand as you sat down beside the stranger.

"Did you see her pussy?" Gojo asked once he settled down in the back, Geto beside him.

"I'm afraid not, Sir. She was covering herself." The driver confessed, quite expressionless.

"How rude. Hey," Gojo said, getting your attention as he tugged at your ear, "Spread your legs. Let him see your cunt."

You jumped, your ears ringing at his command, jaw dropping to the floor at the shameful demand. You pussy was already wet- "I- that's- I can't do that!"

"Either you spread your legs or I rip that skirt off and toss you out of the car. Your choice."

With a gulp, you took a deep, shaky breath, your heart hammering in your ears before you slowly started spreading your legs. You heard the driver’s breath hitch as your skirt bunched up, completely exposing your puffy pussy to him. He even leaned forward a bit to get a good look at you, making you close your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.

You pressed your mouth close tightly so they wouldn't hear you moan.

"What do you think? Good pussy, right?" you heard Gojo ask, the other two men also leaning forward to look at you like they weren't more than familiar with your body.

"She's beautiful," the driver responded, "so puffy and cute~"

"Why don't you touch her a bit?"

You gasped, back arching off the seat as you immediately felt a hand on your pussy. Your eyes snapped open, watching as the driver had indeed slid his hand between your legs and was touching you. A total stranger was rubbing your cunt!

"She's so wet~" the man teased, a smile on his face as his fingers glided between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness echoing through the car, "Oh, she feels amazing."

"Doesn't she? She's a perfect little fuck toy~" Gojo said, biting his lower lip as he watched you get touched by the driver, a twinge of possessiveness popping up as he eventually ordered him to stop. The man immediately listened, pulling his hand away from your pussy before licking his fingers off your juices, the action making you moan in embarrassment.

"You know where to take us, right?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Get to it. And you," Gojo said, kicking your seat and getting your attention, "Keep your legs spread, got it? Give him something to look at while he drives."

After the long and awkward car ride where you kept your legs spread the whole time, the three of you were dropped off at your location (but not before the driver got to cop another feel). It was an abandoned location, decrepit and having a strong vibe of curses. The cursed energy was so strong it made your skin crawl and your teeth chatter. But you knew you had nothing to worry about. Not only were you strong, but you also had the two idiots with you who were labelled the strongest sorcerers.

It was strange that the curses were not the things that were making you nervous. You tried not to think about how you were used as a toy. As a plaything. As something they can give other people permission to use as they pleased. You couldn’t believe that just seconds ago- a random stranger had their hands on your most private part.

You tried not to think about how much you loved it. "Lead the way." Geto said, giving your butt a pat before you started walking. You didn't need to look behind you to know that they were taking pictures of you, Gojo one time practically putting the camera between your legs and taking an upward shot.

"Stop- I'm trying to focus!" you complained, pulling down the skirt as best as you could which you knew barely did anything.

"You'll only focus once you stop worrying about your outfit. It's just us here, after all." Geto said, "So flash that pussy and find the curse."

"I don't see you two doing any work." you said, cheeks red as you glared at them, "Find the curses, why don't you."

"Nah." Gojo said, idly scrolling through his phone, his glasses reflecting the photos he just took of you.

"The fuck you mean, nah?"

"It's your job to find and defeat the curses today." Geto explained, giving you a sly smile, "Do a good job and we might put in a good word with Yaga. Our recommendation means something, you know."

"...you guys are never that nice." you said, smelling a scheme, "what do you want?"

"We don't want anything." Gojo said, "And as long as you do as you're told, of course. Now push that skirt up and show me your ass."

You huffed, quickly realizing what this mission was going to be.

But hey, if you get a promotion through this...then perhaps you can stick it out.

You gripped your skirt and pulled it up, not having to do much as your peach butt got exposed. The two men laughed and whistled, getting enjoyment and more blackmail material: many pictures of you, in uniform, at a location of curses, flashing your butt. And this was only the beginning.

As you started tracking down the curse, your senses were on high alert and you gradually forgot about the skirt, the shiver you felt as you got in contact with the thick cursed energy making you decide that you needed to focus on the task as hand. You blocked out the two of them following behind you and you blocked out the sensation of your skirt riding up enough for your lower half to be almost bare. When you sprinted up the stairs, feeling a curse nearby, your skirt rode up completely and you only pulled it down once you reached the top.

In front of you was a curse, not a special grade but not weak either. It was a large, disgusting looking thing, oozing power but you knew it was not as strong as you.

"I'm guessing the two of you aren't going to help?" you asked, getting ready as the curse spotted you. "Nope." they responded, Gojo's phone out and pointing at you, taking a video, "all yours."

You didn't have time to respond as the curse suddenly lunged at you, dragging its disgusting body with surprising speed as it gained to attack. You sprinted around it, your body swift and deadly, understanding the way the curse worked in a matter of seconds. You countered every move with your own, slowly weakening it before you exorcised it, the curse dissipating in the wind.

"That was pretty decent, even for you." Geto said once Gojo stopped recording, "you didn't even let the fact that your whole pussy is out stop you from doing the job. Well done."

You looked down and sure enough, from all the running and the dodging and the fighting, your skirt had ridden up once more and your cunt was totally out in the open. You blushed and you quickly pulled the skirt back down, your ears turning red from the embarrassment.

"Fuck. I'm horny now." Gojo muttered as he pocketed his phone, "Hey, hands on the wall- I'm gonna fuck you."

"Wh-" you sputtered, blushing heavily, "But we're busy!"

"Geto can deal with it. My balls come first. Pun intended."

The black haired man rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face as he said: "Fine. But I'm fucking her once I’m back so you better finish by then."

"No promises~"

Not caring about your response, Gojo walked upto you, gripping you by the back of your neck before he pushed you gently against the nearest wall, his other hand pulling your skirt up. Geto walked past the two of you, following the curse as he left you behind to get a pounding.

"Oh, you're so wet, you nasty bitch." Gojo snarked, grinning as he felt you up, his fingers sliding between your folds, "You loved walking around in this slutty little mini skirt, huh? Yeah, I know you loved it. Probably wanted us to fuck you this whole time."

"D-Don't flatter yourself!" you retorted, wincing as he pinched the plush of your butt before he changed your position a bit. "Mhmm. You're real fucking convincing. Now spread your legs. I want to fuck this nasty pussy."

 Grabbing you by the hips, he made you bend forward, your palms against the wall and your ass presented to him. He continued to play with your pussy, two fingers easily sliding inside of you while his other hand got to work on his pants. He simply slid them down enough for his cock to pop out, hard, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from the red tip. He tapped it against your ass, staining your skin with his fluid before he took his finger out and pressed the tip against your cunt.

He didn't care for foreplay and he didn't care if you felt good. He was here to fuck and that's what he was going to do. And you were going to take it.

"Oh yeah, that's a good pussy~" he groaned as he started pushing inside of you, his cockhead popping into you easily from how wet and dripping you were. You hated to admit it but running and around and flashing your privates had gotten you hot and bothered, even if you were just exposing yourself to the two men who were more than familiar with your body.

You gasped as he continued to bully his cock inside you, eventually bottoming out and spreading your cunt so deliciously wide. His groans were audible through the empty hallways, both his hands now grasping your hips greedily. With a lick of his lips and no warning, the man started to thrust, starting off a bit slow. Your moans jumped with each thrust, your ass rippling against his hips each time he fucked his cock deep, deep inside you.

Despite the many times you've gotten thoroughly pounded by Gojo, you simply can't seem to get used to his size. His cock was deliciously long and thick and each thrust in had his leaking cockhead pressed up against your womb. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises on instinct, slick dripping down your legs and staining the floor.

"Fuuuuck- I'm addicted to this free use pussy!" Gojo growled as he not so gently smacked your ass, laughing at your squeal, "Bend you over and fuck you anytime- claim you as my personal whore. I fucking love it!"

“Shut the fuck u-u-upppp!” you squealed, his cock curving just right and bumping against your special spot, a rush of pleasure sparking through your spine. Gojo simply spanked you again before he used that hand to grab your hair, pulling at it roughly. You gasped as your head was pulled back, the pain of your hair being tugged at addicting.

“I felt your pussy tighten, bitch~” Gojo snarled with a smirk, “You love being bullied by us so much- it’s so pathetic and I love it.”

“You’re pathe- ohhh right there- right there!”

“Yeah? Here? Little bitch likes it when my cocks hits her right here?”

Gojo angled his hips so he hit your g-spot with every thrust forward, the clap of his hips against your butt practically echoing through the hallway. You couldn’t hold back your moans, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s leaving you as he pounded your cunt like a toy. You didn’t know how long the two of you were there for, fucking in the open, in the middle of the abandoned building. You were so focused on the pleasure that you didn’t notice the pressure of the curses suddenly disappear.

“Are you done yet? It’s my turn to cream her cunt.”

You groaned as Geto walked over to the two of you, wiping his mouth.

“I still got the taste of a curse on my tongue. I’d like to wash it down with her pussy.”

“Fuck- wait for a bit.” Gojo said, panting heavily, sweat marring his brow, “I’m almost done.”

“Nope. I’m not waiting.” Geto said, punching Gojo in the shoulder and ruining his rhythm, “Plus, there’s another curse that needs killing and I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.”

“You want- fuck-“ Gojo cursed, stilling inside you to give Geto a look, “You want me to fight a curse with a hardon?”

“Well, she fought one with her pussy out so I’m sure you can manage.”

Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes before he conceded, “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.”

“I do not. Now get going.”   Gojo pulled out of you, the slick sound of it making your body shiver as his erect cock stood tall, covered in your juices. He tucked himself back in his pants the best he could, his dick still straining against his pants as he quickly walked away, a determined look in his eyes. He wanted to finish off this final curse as soon as he could so he could get back to destroying your pussy.

Before you could even blink, a bit dazed from the lack of pleasure, Geto was on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your asscheeks before he pulled them apart and surged forward. Blood rushed upto your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy as Geto stuffed his face between your cheeks. He groaned as he rubbed his face on you for a bit, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh against him like a pervert before he stuck his tongue out and got to licking. He took a long, greedy lick from your clit all the way upto your asshole, teasing your rim before slightly sticking his tongue inside.

Your body shivered, little gasps leaving your mouth at his shameless actions, the man starting to eat you out like a messy meal. He clearly didn't care if you felt good, his movements sloppier than usual, and obviously just wanted a taste. But that didn't stop your body from responding to him, your hips subconsciously pushing out in a silent plea for more, your pussy dripping. He lapped up your juices, drinking you down with a groan as his hands continued to squeeze and pinch at your cheeks.

“Fucking- perfect.” He moaned against you, his words vibrating your clit and making your knees shake, “Just what I needed.”

With a final, toe-curling suck to your clit, he stood up, ordering you to turn around and face him as he started undoing his pants. Your back was pressed against the wall, Geto standing close enough for your chests to almost touch. “Take your top off. Get naked for me.” He groaned as he fished his dick out, giving it a few tugs as he eyed you down like you were a piece of meat. You gulped, heart beating fast in your chest as you hurriedly started to unbutton your blouse, trying to pretend like you weren’t eager.

If they knew just how needy you felt…

Geto suddenly grabbed you by the waist once your buttons were undone before he lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped as he slammed you tightly against the wall, feeling his cock throb against your eager cunt as your legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed onto the cup of your bra before pulling the right one down, exposing that nipple. He bent down and took it into his mouth, the man clearly having an obsession with your tits as he started suckling.

His eyelashes tickled your skin as he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud, giving it a few flicks with the tip before sealing his lips around it and giving it a toe-curling suck. As he suckled, his other hand slid down and grabbed his cock, tapping it a few times against your pussy before he slid in, the glide easy thanks to Gojo’s previous pounding.

“Ah- fuck-yes-“ you gasped out, unable to hold yourself back, briefly registering that all traces of curses had disappeared in an instant, Gojo having finished the job. It was only a matter of time before he rushes to the two of you, demanding to be back inside you.

This was what you were expected to do for them. Be a pair of spread legs for them to use whenever they want- to be fucked silly- to be bred- to be truly and utterly degraded. Maybe Gojo would make you suck his cock. Maybe the two of them would swap places. Or maybe they’d finally fuck your ass.

From the corner of your eye, your vision blurry thanks to the tears from how harshly Geto was pounding into you, you could see someone hurriedly walk towards you, unbuttoning his pants along the way and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh among your moans.

Today was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

[genacity]

DAY TWO. PRINCESS TREATMENT

ft. rengoku kyojurou — kimetsu no yaiba (鬼滅の刃)

when a clueless hashira wanders into your layer of operations, you can’t help but put up a fight— and admire his fat tits through the inconvenient tear in his uniform you inflict.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. demon! reader, masochist? rengoku, feminization, body worship, praise, nipple play, impact play, reader refers to rengoku using feminine nicknames / anatomy (girl, princess, pussy, tits)

an. meow i was so excited to write for rengoku. i love beefy men being treated like bimbos! woohooo!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

“slow down, pretty girl. stop squirming so much.”

“mm— haah! please stop teasing me!”

the man in your lap writhed at your touch. careful hands gliding down his chest, drawing circles around his nipples as he thrashed between your legs.

how’d you even get here? you don’t remember. well, you do. but you aren’t focused on remembering. not when the flame hashira is at your disposal. burning, sticky skin and sweet-sounding whimpers from his lips a stunning combination of reactions to your touch.

you’re a demon under kibutsuji. one of the latest recruits to the twelve kizuki. being an upper rank is tiring. always lounging about in the manor you’ve made for yourself, waiting to get this damned job over with and kill those little brats they called the demon corps.

but this one… this one may be spared.

rengoku kyojurou, that’s what his name is — the thundering flame hashira that it seems the whole of japan has been talking about.

and he’s wandered straight into your lair, ready to slay you.

yes, that’s what he had planned — until while during your fight, your claws tore a less than convenient rip in his uniform. straight through the chest to reveal the space between his muscular pecs that you just had to stop and stare at.

and now you’re here. the hashira sat between your legs as you toyed with his chest and body.

hey, you couldn’t help it; not when his tits — pecs — were practically begging to be touched and fucked. and he was, too. not like he denied it at all. you may be a demon, but that definitely did not take away from your temptation. and looks.

“relax, baby. you’re stressing too much.” you cooed to the whining rengoku as you pinched his nipple between your fingers. he jolted, shaking his head as your free hand held his hands behind his back.

you sighed and looked at his swollen nipple between your pointer and thumb fingers. “look at you,” you feigned a pout. “your tits are all red. is that what you wanted, flame hashira? to make your big tits all red and sore?”

“they are not — tits.” rengoku whimpered, his voice lowering to almost a whisper at his last word. “what was that?” you asked into his ear, pulling at his sore nipple and letting it go, watching it bounce back as he let out a long wail.

rengoku’s hips bucked up as you fondled his pecs, tracing round his right bud with your sharp, manicured claws. “i — i can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” he whined. “a demon using and teasing my body.”

“oh, how shameful.” you chuckled and flicked his sore nipple, making him jump. you switched hands to hold his wrists, off to pay more attention to his neglected side as you immediately began to knead his left breast. “a demon having their way with you. how will you explain to your beloved corp that you’ve come back sore with no victory?”

rengoku went silent. pressing his raw lips together to muffle his grunts and whines. dissatisfied by his lack of response, you pinched his left nipple and leaned in to whisper into his neck. “answer me, flame hashira.”

his lips parted to speak, but all that came out was a shaky breath from the tip of his tongue. you began to grow increasingly agitated by his silence, and so you took it upon yourself to force the answer from him.

you rose your hand and brought it down onto his chest with some force. the hashira flinched in your hold; whining out as the sting along his chest and sore nipple left him squirming. “are you going to answer me?” you snarled just beneath his ear, breathing against rengoku’s neck and making him shiver.

“i — i don’t know.” he stammered and swallowed harshly. you laughed at his response and shook your head. “aw. pretty girl can’t think. i can’t imagine what your co-workers will think of you when you return.”

rengoku couldn’t imagine it either. he was afraid, honestly; unknowing of what his fellow hashira will think of him if he admitted to returning to them with no victory, all for a few moments of pleasure. but at that point, he didn’t care. it felt too good to give up. never had he felt this way before.

all of his thoughts immediately dissipated once he felt your cold hands pinch at his hot nipples once more. rengoku yelped, not noticing you had let his wrists go and was now using both of your hands to knead his chest.

“ah! please…” he sniffled, watching your hands press his chest muscles together and trace his burning buds with your freezing fingertips “your hands… they’re so cold.”

kyojurou felt his cock strain against his pants. the sight of you toying with his pecs made his mind go numb. at that point, he was melting into you. nodding mindlessly whenever you commented something about his fat tits or his hard nipples. the way he reacted to you was addictive.

a few more times did you strike rengoku’s chest; making him wail and writhe more in your arms. whenever he seemed too lost in watching you press his breasts together while you were asking a question would you remind him with a sharp smack straight onto his flaming nipple. then he would recoil and slowly answer your question — too invested on how red and sore his chest was growing. but he loved the burning feeling.

“can’t imagine how wet you must be for me, flame hashira.” you purred. “your pussy is probably drenched. it must be, considering how you’re reacting to just me touching your boobs.” and you laughed, lips twitching up into a grin.

“d-don’t — haah… don’t say those things.” rengoku whimpered, squirming in your hold as one of your hands massaged his right breast while the other began to trail down his body. fingers ghosting over the evident bulge in his pants as he panted and gasped for air. the hashira felt his cock twitch pathetically in his pants as you laughed.

your sly smile grew with each mewl rengoku let slip. “aw, is my girl embarrassed. don’t wanna admit how wet ‘n excited i got you, princess?” you purred into the shell of his ear as he trembled. “i’m not… wet.” he grumbled, and you just had to laugh again.

“show me then.” you insisted. your hands trailed down to his belt as your fingers slowly began to undo it. “show me you’re not leaking from my touch.” the flame hashira swallowed thickly as you leaned in to murmur to him.

“don’t be shy, princess. show me all of you.”

[xomakara]

Rewarded With Love

SUMMARY |  Hongjoong rewards you for being such a good mother to his children.

PAIRINGS |  Hongjoong x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  dad!Hongjoong, wife!Reader, dilf!Hongjoong, milf!Reader, smut, non-idol au, fluff, established relationship

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, protected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (f. receiving/m. giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, mommy and daddy kinks (pet names?)

LENGTH |  4,858 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Momma is back with another dad!Teez fic lolol. If you read my dad!Jongho fic (Second Chance at Love), you'll see some familiar children lolol. At this point, I should just make a series. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

"I'm home!" Kim Hongjoong called out as he shut the front door behind him.

He listened and heard the pitter pat of feet coming down the hallway, the screams of 'Daddy!' making his heart smile, hearing his kids come running and flinging themselves at him, trying to give him a hug at the same time. They were trying to talk, one voice blending in with the next, only catching fragments of what they were actually saying, so excited to see him they could hardly contain it.

"Where's Daddy's kisses?" He asked as they chattered about their day.

Loud smacking kisses pressed against his cheek before he stood and put the pair down on their feet, giving them each a smile. "Where's mommy?" He asked when he didn't see his wife in the hall.

"Kitchen,” they said in unison, smiling up at their daddy, holding his hands and leading him through the house with his son to his left and his daughter to his right, matching excited grins on their faces. "Mommy! Daddy is home!"

Hongjoong let out a small laugh as he watched you stir the pot of stew, bouncing lightly on your feet with the baby strapped to your front, nestled there with his head on your breast. His arms reached and tightened around you, a soft laugh escaping your lips when you felt him against your back. 

You pulled his left hand over to kiss it, a smile pulling at your lips. "Welcome home, Daddy."

Hongjoong grinned and kissed your shoulder, turning you to face him. He cupped your cheek, kissing you softly as his children groaned in disgust and ran off to play. Leaning his forehead against yours, he smiled and asked, "How were the kids today?"

"Good as always. Well, Hyejin almost choked on an apple, so that was a little scary for me. She's fine," you lifted your hand to cup his cheek with a smile, returning his forehead with a kiss.

"My angel," he kissed your nose, making you chuckle before he leaned into the baby. "Hey there, big boy. How are you?"

Hyunwoo turned his head, blinking at his father, taking him in, and when recognition donned him, his face lit up, his hand reaching out for his father, cooing excitedly.

Hongjoong took him from his sling with a grin and brought him close to him, kissing his little chubby cheeks and chin with loud smacking sounds. "I'll take the baby while you finish dinner. Did you need help with anything else?"

"No, just get the table set and that'll be all good," you hummed. "Can you make sure the kids wash their hands before they sit at the table?"

"Yes, love. You can count on me," he gave a mock salute and turned with the baby in his arms to carry him out, watching the kids run through the halls in their socks, screaming and laughing.

He almost tripped a few times while navigating his way with a child in his arms, but Hongjoong had gotten very adept in having children run under his feet. He had lost track of how many times he almost trampled one of them or how many stubbed toes he had because they were doing somersaults in the living room. He remembered being a miserable single dad when his ex-wife suddenly up and left. He lacked a support system, and the abrupt shift from married life to single parenthood, with a toddler and a baby to care for, was incredibly challenging. He struggled to make ends meet while trying to stay strong for his children, who were now without their mother.

When Jongho's wife recommended you for the nanny job, he thought nothing of it, but you were so good with the kids, they attached themselves to you faster than you could've known. Hongjoong fell for you long before you'd even noticed, his children chattering on and on about you being their 'mommy' now and it took everything in him not to blurt it out, hoping that the affection they gave was a reflection of his own.

Now, four years later, you had his ring on your finger, another baby to join the family, and two healthy older siblings running underfoot. His ex-wife wasn't coming back, and he hadn't thought once about her since she walked out the door with the clothes on her back and left her life behind like she meant nothing to any of them. It broke his heart the first year, the thought of her leaving for months, no explanation, no return calls or letters, and now, he had long since buried his sorrow to focus on the family he had instead of the family he didn't.

He thanked Jongho's wife every chance he got because without her, he wouldn't have gotten you into his life, and now, he never wanted to let you go, no matter what.

After he watched Hyejin and Hongki scurry off to wash their hands and he deposited his newest baby into his high chair, making sure he wouldn't get out, he returned to your side. "Food's done?"

"Yes," you handed him the plates and cutlery, letting him lead the way back into the dining room.

Once everyone had sat down, food was distributed, and napkins were spread over laps, dinner began with chatter amongst all of them, as usual, talking over each other so fast that nobody was really keeping up with the conversation. Hyunwoo babbled between them as he gnawed away on the piece of bread you had given him.

"Oh, did Jongho tell you that he and his wife want to take the kids for a sleepover?" You spoke up while wiping the bit of juice that trickled down the baby's chin. "I think Jooeun and Joomi wanted a weekend with their friends."

"Are the other kids going?" Hongjoong asked, the 'others' referring to the kids of their friends.

"Yeosang already said that Yeonwoo is going. Yunho said that he's going to drop Yunhee off when he gets off work and I think San mentioned that Haru has been begging him to go," you checked the kids in front of you. "Does that sound good? Sleepover weekend with your friends? A big sleepover party at Uncle Jongho's house?"

"Sleepover?! At Jooeun's and Joomi's house?!" Their excited voices blended into one another.

You giggled. "Yeah and I think Yeonwoo, Haru and Yunhee are going to be there too."

They screamed in their chairs, all manners of speaking gone while they shrieked.

"Yeah?" You watched as they nodded their heads up and down. "What does Daddy say? Is that a good idea?"

"Daddy thinks it’s a great idea," Hongjoong turned his eyes from the kids to you, a wide grin on his face as you smiled. "That gives Mommy and Daddy a night to themselves too."

"We still have the baby," you turned your gaze to Hyunwoo who looked quite happy to have his piece of bread to gnaw on, sucking it a little for moisture. "You think Wooyoung would take him for the night?"

"It's Wooyoung," Hongjoong laughed. "The man will never say no to a baby. I'm sure he, Seonghwa, and Mingi, single and childless as they are, will be ecstatic to watch the baby."

Watching a gummy smile crawl across Hyunwoo's round little face and turn his attention to him. "He's just a precious thing. So cute, just like his Daddy and his big brother and sister."

His hand crept along the table and covered yours with a smile. His thumb ran circles over the wedding ring on your finger that matched his. "Couldn't be as cute as you, baby."

He heard his daughter groaning and knew her manners came out at the worst of times because all she had to say was, "Oh my God. Daddy, can you not do that at the table?"

"Don't blame me. Daddy loves Mommy." Hongjoong laughed.

"We all love mommy too!" Your son was quick to respond. "But don't make that yucky stuff at the table! Mommy always says to have our gross stuff done somewhere that’s not at the table!"

Your laughter rose up amongst the chatter, leaning over to peck his cheek. "Well, the table is now going to be strictly gross free. Daddy, let's keep our grossness elsewhere and not bother the kids."

He leaned down to kiss the crown of Hyunwoo's head, placing a kiss on the crowns of the eldest children's heads. "Agreed, gross free table."

"I can't remember the last time we did this," Hongjoong spoke from his spot on the couch, leaning back into the comfortable cushion with his arm over your shoulders while the credits to some movie played on the tv. An hour ago, Jongho had just picked up the older kids for the sleepover and an ecstatic Wooyoung came to grab the baby. Now, you were home alone and could do as you pleased.

You hummed, sliding down the couch more until your head was pillowed on his lap.

"I think it's been forever, sweetheart," his fingers played with the flyaways of your hair with a smile pulling at his lips.

You groaned and rolled onto your side, pulling his hand with you so it was draped over your side and laying half across your stomach. "Since before the baby?" 

You recalled all the moments where Hongjoong wanted to pull you close and show you his love, but with the baby attached to you or in a different room, he found it hard to have those intimate moments. Even sex wasn't an option, at least, not regularly like it was before the baby. The moments you were alone to do so were too few and far between.

"Unfortunately, the most action we've had lately was a little bit of dry humping," a breathy laugh passed his lips. "God, it sounds so juvenile saying that. We're a married couple, yet, the most action lately was rubbing ourselves against each other in the middle of the night."

A light giggle escaped your throat and your head shifted on his lap, turning a soft grin towards him, meeting his eyes. "Hon, please, with these kids running wild around the house, sex is the least of our worries. If we can catch a few minutes of intimacy without someone coming up the stairs and bursting in on us, I'll count myself blessed."

A smile pulled at his lips and he took your left hand, holding it up so he could look at your rings. "I don't regret it, baby. None of this. Growing this family, starting a life with you. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Thank you for coming into my life, for loving Hongki and Hyejin like they were your own kids and giving birth to our little Hyunwoo. We're only going to grow from here. Who knows? Maybe we'll expand again."

"And have more kids like Jongho and his wife?" Your lips curled into a smile, making Hongjoong laugh and shake his head. "Yeah, let's keep it to three kids and that'll be enough."

"Darn it, guess my evil plans are foiled. I was hoping that our baby-making would multiply and I'd have five or six. Can you imagine? A house of seven? It'll be the end of us," Hongjoong laughed with you and brushed his fingers through your hair with a hum and leaned back more on the couch.

"Don't know how Jongho and his wife could do it," you mused. "A set of twin girls, a set of twin boys and another baby on the way?" You shook your head in amusement and curled more into your husband's leg. "Who knew our youngest friend would have the most kids out of us all?"

"With the biggest house and the most bedrooms," he added.

"Biggest yard and the largest living space,” you continued.

Hongjoong and you continued rattling things off with a shared grin until your gazes met and your eyes squinted into small smiles. Your right hand reached up and stroked his cheek. His eyes crinkled in response and his forehead lowered down to touch yours, chuckling low under his breath. "My pretty wife."

Your hand gripped the nape of his neck, holding him close as a soft exhale passed your lips and your eyes slipped closed. "My handsome husband."

Slow, soft, gentle lips touched yours and Hongjoong cradled you in his arms, humming into the kiss with a happy smile. Time escaped you as you melted under your husband's ministrations, a simple and chaste exchange. The whole house was quiet, not a single kid around to stop you, or yell from somewhere else in the house, or suddenly need you and throw you back into the realm of parenting. Right now, it was just you and him. Nothing more, nothing less. Just his arms, his lips on yours, his hands stroking through your hair and feeling his love surround you like the warmest blanket.

His teeth gently teased your lower lip and he pulled back to hover over your face with a breathless chuckle, his hands now trailing down your face to hold your hands in his. His thumbs gently rubbed circles into your skin, making shivers run up your spine and down your back with a silent exhale.

"I'm not gonna lie. It feels kinda nice not having the kids around for a whole night. Makes it much more relaxing. I don't have to run after kids every second," his chuckle met your ears and a breathy laugh of your own fell into the air around you two.

"Yeah," your arms curled around his middle, trying to pull him close and bring his lips back to yours. 

He laughed quietly again, tilting his head with a smile and cupped your cheeks in his hands. "The kids are gone tonight, my love. What should we do? All alone without kids?"

"Cuddles. Kisses. Movie?" The smile was unmistakable and your heart filled with pure love for your husband, melting with every second his eyes remained on yours. "A reward for being the best wife and mother to your children?"

"A reward, huh?" His laugh tickled your ears and his lips pressed another soft kiss on your forehead, gently nudging you from his lap and rising from the couch. "Anything for the most beautiful mother and best wife I've ever had. Now, come on, Mommy, let Daddy show you how much you deserve a break."

You giggled at his cheeky antics and caught his extended hand as he picked you up and carried you all the way to the bedroom. His kisses didn't stop until he dropped you onto the bed, bouncing with a happy smile up at him, the moment a blur as he crawled over top of you.

You brought him down for another kiss with a chuckle. 'What are you planning to do?"

"Giving my wife a reward," his lips grazed your chin and began peppering the side of your neck and making his way down as he spoke. "One she well and truly deserves for everything she's done."

"By doing what?" your eyes followed his head down as he buried himself into your collarbones and the exposed part of your chest. Your shirt had ridden down, bunched in his grasp as he snaked his hands underneath to touch your skin. His cold hands warmed up within seconds.

"Giving Mommy a night where all her needs are met," Hongjoong tilted his gaze towards you, a flirtatious wink greeting you and his eyes growing half-lidded. "A night where her pleasure is met, a night where I am completely and totally wrapped around her little finger. She's so lovely and wonderful to all the kids, my wonderful children's mother."

He kept your hands pinned above your head, bringing your attention back to him and kissing your lips once again. "Tonight, everything is Mommy's decision. If she wants kisses, if she wants love, if she wants affection. Anything, Mommy gets what she wants," his tone was gentle, lips speaking low as his breath warmed your face. "Can I do that, sweetheart? Make Mommy feel good and loved?"

You blushed, nodding a small little motion and lifted your head to meet his next kiss. "Yes, of course. I'd love anything you'd give me."

Hongjoong's answering kiss brought tingles of happiness through every cell of your body.

It felt good, and nothing would tear your husband's hands or kisses off you as he slowly peeled away your clothing piece by piece. Each kiss followed and a small burn of warmth swarmed your skin, causing goosebumps to rise, and it was addicting, being bathed in this type of attention from Hongjoong, his eyes only on you and making sure you received his entire focus. Every part of his body was doing what made your body happy and made you shiver.

Kisses littered the inner flesh of your thighs and the peaks of your breasts, Hongjoong's gentle smile and caresses stroking through your hair or on your legs made your head turn with love. Your stomach felt jittery with every kiss and the coil in your core only tightened with every passing minute.

"Breathe, sweet girl. It's all okay. There's no hurry," Hongjoong's voice was soft and tender, urging you to slow your racing heart and taking a breath when a gasp left your throat.

You blinked and looked over his smiling face with a soft smile pulling at your own features. "I love you, Joong."

"I love you too, baby," a warm grin stretched his lips.

His fingers brushed over your opening, feeling a sudden need to slide in and watch as you broke around him. His fingers sank into your welcoming body, slipping in and out with ease. His movements were slow and sensual, loving the way your eyes rolled back, your head flopped, and your lips parted into a silent gasp. He spread his fingers, making you tense and releasing a short moan from your chest and the desperate way you begged him, asking for more as your hands tightly clenched the sheets.

He smirked. It was definitely a beautiful sight, one that always sent his blood roaring in his veins. "Tell me what you want. Say the words and I'm more than happy to comply."

Your breaths came in shaky gasps and you weakly mumbled, "M-more. J-just... k-keep going, p-please."

He chuckled softly, placing one last kiss on your knee and moved down, placing himself in between your legs. You immediately looked at him through half-lidded eyes and cried softly when his thumb rubbed hard and firm against your clit, only adding a flash of fire in your belly, spreading into your legs and chest.

"D-don't, J-Joong. I-I-" you cried out softly, bringing your fingers down into his hair, tugging on the strands in desperation. "Pl-please!"

"Mhm. That's what I want to hear, baby," he leaned over you, your gasps fanning across his chin as he dipped his head down and gave you a quick kiss. "Such a pretty sound, only for Daddy's ears, yes?"

You whimpered in answer, his tongue trailing along the inside of your thigh, kissing and nibbling, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.

"You can be as loud as you want, love," the edges of his smile rose up, knowing the soft sounds that echoed around the empty house of yours. "It's just us. It's alright."

You sucked in a deep breath and your eyelids closed as his lips met your folds. It was almost as if he didn't want to waste a second before tasting the warm slick your pussy offered him. Your eyes shot open, back arching as his lips, tongue and finger went straight to work.

His mouth latched around your clit while his fingers worked, rubbing you inside while you lost the ability to speak, all that could come out were soft and weak moans while your legs trembled. Hongjoong's lips tightened against your clit, making your thighs clamp down around him in an attempt to slow down or make him stop.

"Joong..." you moaned softly, closing your eyes, feeling a wave of ecstasy washing over your mind and you had to swallow or choke on your spit. Your throat felt dry, as you threw your head back when Hongjoong started sucking harder and wiggling his finger.

It felt way too good, his lips, his fingers and the vibrations from his own soft groans that made your knees clench around his ears as your chest arched. His tongue ran laps against you and pushed your thighs to shake around him. The warmth in your stomach had built up from the attention on your core, sending jolts of fire through you. He felt too amazing and you couldn't fight back. He was going to get a reaction whether you liked it or not.

Your fingers gripped his hair, pulling him down and begging to ride his face until the ache in your lower half subsided. Your body shook and your pussy pulsed, gushing your sweet juices around Hongjoong's working hands.

He purred when your legs finally settled down from the tremors running up and down your legs. It had been long since you've last experienced release, let alone from the skill of your husband's talented mouth and talented fingers. His hands were resting against your inner thighs, his eyes gazing down at the beautiful way you quivered and rode through the throes of pleasure he managed to give you. He licked his lips clean of the sticky and sweet wetness, chuckling softly.

"Did it feel nice, my love?" his hands ran gently up and down your quivering thighs, laughing in amusement at the way you could not catch a breath from the sudden orgasm he induced. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your hip, murmuring, "Gods, it's so fun watching you like this. How much I can't wait to see what other expressions you'll be making as the night goes on."

"I need you Joong," you gasped out, tugging his shirt as your thighs clamped against him. "Please, I need to feel you inside. Please."

"Hold on, baby," he muttered, leaving the bed briefly to rummage through the nightstand next to his side of the bed. Once he found the box of condoms, he set it on the table and settled between your trembling knees. "We did say we're stopping at three babies, right?"

A watery laugh escaped your chest, lifting a weak hand to cup his face. "Joong, just hurry!"

Hongjoong shook his head and grinned in amusement. "Patience is a virtue."

"If you don't put it in soon I'm kicking you off this bed,” you frowned.

"Hmm, Mommy is demanding," Hongjoong played back. He kicked off his sweats, rolling the condom over his hard member before settling in the gap between your legs. His lips were on yours once again as he rolled his hips against yours, gliding himself against you.

You tugged him forward, eager and hungry, breathing his name against his lips in between kisses, hoping for him to slip inside, thrusting hard and fast so your world was filled with nothing but him and your desires. You lifted your leg up and curled it against the back of his thigh, clinging tight and grinding into him.

Hongjoong wasted little time before he slid himself easily and steadily into your sex, gasping into your lips at the velvety heat and groaning into your shoulder when his balls pushed flush against your ass. He felt so thick and full inside you and yet his thrusts were gentle and steady, his hands cradled under your ass to give better leverage and his lips capturing yours each time you broke away for a breath or to moan loudly.

He picked up the speed and the force behind the rhythm, smirking against your skin at how your hands cupped his cheeks and the whimpers escaping your lips each time his dick reached so deep inside of you that you were sure your organs were being rearranged.

"H-Hongjoong," you panted, your head dazed with a pleasurable haze as his thrusts had now quickened and was shoving you up the bed a little each time his hips slapped yours and you both moved as one. The coil in your stomach wound tighter, feeling every inch of his member spearing into your flesh and sending yourself into a head spin of pleasure.

"Look at you baby," the warmth from Hongjoong's voice drew your attention, a smile plastered on his lips as you melted around him, a silent cry in your lips as your fingers tangled in the sheets. "Feeling so good, yeah?"

"Ah, so g-good," you answered breathlessly, feeling a light buzz in your ear from how dizzy you felt with his shaft buried to the hilt inside of your pussy, your muscles tightening around him each time his thrusts became slower to grind his hips into yours. The sheer look of awe on Hongjoong's face kept your chest warm. He adored every part of you. He took joy from every action, sound, sight that surrounded him as he thrusted slowly inside of you.

Your eyes slammed shut and you heard his soft groan fall against your ears, a satisfied sigh meeting them shortly after. He shuddered when you held him close and caressed a hand up the sweaty back. He laughed and returned the gesture, resting his head on your shoulder and tucked close into your neck. He rubbed his hands soothingly down your back, up and down, feeling the steady and comforting pace that had you both calm, yet his dick was still hard and pulsed deep within.

"I love you, baby," he whispered. His voice had softened and his hips moved smoothly in a tender sway that left your head falling back and your back arching closer towards him, hips jerking erratically and needy.

"I love you too, Hongjoong," you answered, crying quietly as your fingers tensed and pressed against the hard and sturdy muscles of his back. "So so much."

The squeaking of the bed creaked loudly and your breathing felt uneven, your heart beating frantically as you felt his dick slide in and out. The rhythm was smooth and pleasant, making you whine when his hands suddenly slid up to gently brush your sides and cupping the softness of your breast, playing with them, pinching, twisting, flicking. All while whispering sweet little nothings into your skin as you trembled with overflowing affection.

"Mommy looks so sexy like this," he cooed into your shoulder, laving at the skin with his tongue. "Trembling all around me and taking my love like such a good girl." 

His groans became heavier and the rocking of his hips caused your mouth to drop open with each deep roll, your bodies pressed together without an inch of space. You could feel every inch of him in such detailed clarity. "So lovely, so good. Such a good wife, a mother. Beautiful."

Your orgasm reached quickly, far too quickly. You moaned and yelled his name, throwing your head back and forcing your legs to stay clamped around him as the waves crashed through and you were left gasping, taking the air that had disappeared during the peak of bliss.

His fingers intertwined with yours, kissing your cheek lovingly. He lowered his head against your breasts and licked, sucked and gently bit into them. A content sigh came from his chest and he gave a squeeze with his teeth, massaging his hands all over your body, on your breast, on your back, and everywhere he could reach as your whole body shook. He came apart, unloading himself inside of the condom. Your fingers entangled in the strands of his hair, letting the moans ring in the air.

Once you both could finally breathe normally and had gotten the energy back to speak, Hongjoong collapsed on the bed next to you. He pulled the condom off, tying it up and dropping it into the trash before pulling you back to cuddle up to his chest.

"You good, love?" he whispered against your temple, pressing kisses as he awaited a reply.

"Yeah..." your breathing was quiet but content. It had been so long since the both of you were intimate, especially without worry of little interruptions or noisy children waking up throughout the night and demanding attention.

You cuddled closer to Hongjoong, reaching up to feel your face hot and a dorky smile crossed his lips, bringing his face down to nuzzle against your forehead.

He sighed softly against your hair. His voice, a gentle, sleepy slur. "What's on your mind?"

"Sleepy," you blurted out, squeezing your husband against your chest. "And then we can go again after a little rest."

"How demanding," Hongjoong let out a laugh as he snuggled closer to your chest. 

"You knew what you signed up for when you put a ring on this finger, Kim Hongjoong. Get ready to provide all the affection I want,” you grinned.

Hongjoong scoffed, wriggling to hold your body. He hid the small smile curling on his lips. "Good grief, woman."

[uglypastels]

Eddie knows you have a voice kink and decides to take advantage of it 👀

(ie not me having a voice kink, absolutely not)

this took me too long but i also tried to rewrite this like four times because ughhhhh you are so fucking real for this one. im obsessed. so yeah, i hope you enjoy it <3 and thank you for the request

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. porn without plot, straight from the beginning. voice kink, so obviously dirty talk. fingering. mention of oral (f receiving). mention of p in v sex. bondage. (soft) dom!eddie.

masterlist // inbox //

‘Fuck sweetheart, you look so pretty, all spread out for me like that,’ Eddie smirked as he looked down at you. His hair fell over your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, and his hands found their place at your hips. You couldn’t help but arch your back, feeling that gravitational pull that Eddie exerted… as the handcuffs dug into your wrists, there was little you could do but thrust your hips his way. 

‘So—fucking—pretty.’ He muttered between kisses over your cheek and jaw. ‘Could put you in a museum. Hang you up like this. Look at you all day.’ His voice was gruff, filled with the sexual frustration you were both tortured with over the past few hours, but the cheek and humour never left him. 

‘Maybe we should, hmm?’ His low hum sent shivers all through your neck and down your spine. ‘Hang you up, I mean. I still got that hook in the ceiling from the–’ 

‘Maybe– maybe next time, Eddie.’ It wasn’t the worst idea he had come up with, but you were so far gone you couldn’t imagine yourself getting out of this bed. All you could focus on was the deep growl of his voice– the meaning of the words barely even settled in your brain. 

‘It’s a deal, baby.’ He smiled and gave you another kiss which you returned with a moan. One of his hands had found its way up to your breast, pressing into the soft skin, thumb roaming over the most sensitive parts. 

‘Eddie,’ you moaned his name out softly, receiving another hum in response. 

‘I know, baby.’ He said after you got stuck on his name for a moment or two. ‘Don’t worry; I’ll make you feel good.’ His kisses were going lower and lower. Peppering your neck, breast, and abdomen. His path was marked out clearly. ‘So, good.’

But you whined in desperation as his lips reached below your stomach. If it hadn’t felt so good, maybe you would have been quicker on the notice, but despite it all, you still had needs. 

Eddie halted in his moves at your word. His grip on you tightened securely, big brown eyes locked in on you, checking for any signs of worry. With everything put on hold, you became more conscious of the fire burning in your body for him. Couldn’t lay still, but Eddie wouldn’t move.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ 

‘I don’t–’ He was so far away, and you couldn’t do anything about it with those damn handcuffs locking you in. They wouldn’t budge even at your hardest pull, and with each second, it was becoming harder and harder to think. ‘Eddie, I–’ 

‘Yeah?’ He rubbed his hand over your thigh. It must have been meant as reassurance, but all the triggers were shot up straight to your core. ‘Baby? Hey, are you still with me?’ 

‘Yes, just...’ You didn’t want to say it. Eddie raised a curious brow as you tried to spit out your wish.

‘Don’t go down on me. Not right now.’

‘Everything good down there?’ He squeezed your thigh a bit harder, a playful grin on his lips again.

‘Yes, it’s fine, fuck me if you want, just not– not with your mouth.’ 

Eddie couldn’t help the small scoff that passed his lips. ‘Ok… may I ask why?’ He tried not to look offended. You knew how much he loved this specific activity, and usually, you did too, but this time, something different got you going. 

‘Because I–’ you huffed out, ‘because I’m getting turned on by you talking right now, so I don’t want you to stop now just to eat me out.’ If you hadn’t been cuffed to the bed posts, you would have hidden underneath the covers in embarrassment. 

There was a second of silence as Eddie processed what you said. He blinked slowly and started to climb his way back up to the head of the bed. Arms on either side of you, locking you in even more. 

His lips were nearly on yours as he spoke again. ‘Speaking of talking, we should do something about this shyness of yours. You know I will do anything for you, princess, so why not just tell me? You’re a big girl, aren’t you?’ 

 ‘Y-yes.’ The small word got caught in your throat. Nevertheless, Eddie rewarded it with a brief kiss.

‘Hmm, so you want me to talk,’ he said after pulling away, ‘what should I talk about?’ 

‘Anything— sex!’ You added quickly, knowing how Eddie could be with his humour. ‘Anything that’s– you know.’ 

‘You want me to say what I wanna do to you? How I’m going to fuck you? Hmm, is that what my princess wants?’ With each word, his voice got deeper, darker. 

‘Yes, please.’  While yours became breathless, encapsulated in moans. ‘Please, Eddie.’

‘God, I love how you beg for me, how you say my name. Gonna make you scream it tonight, baby. You’re gonna be my good girl and scream for me when I stretch your tight little pussy, hmm? Will you do that for me?’

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ You squeaked out the last word when you felt his hand down on you. 

‘Thought so. Always so good for me.’ Eddie slowly started closing his fingers in on your slit, carefully approaching it with his next question too. ‘Would have loved to have my mouth on you now, sweetheart. Lick you fucking up… but my fingers will do for now, won’t they?’ He said it as if the feeling of having him deep inside you wasn’t ecstatic. Like you didn’t daydream about those fingers almost every day. 

 ‘I want them in me, Eddie. Fuck. I need it.’ And as soon as he heard it, Eddie started rubbing those close circles on your clit, getting you even more hot and bothered and ready for what was next to come. 

‘Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.’ He had a Cheshire cat smile across his face as he kept on teasing your slit. ‘All for me? All for my voice?’ 

‘You know it is.’ It wasn’t the first time you expressed your love for how Eddie sounds. You had told him on several occasions he had a hot voice, both on and off stage and in bed, but this time was certainly on a new level. Something in you felt like you could cum just from listening to him. 

‘Perhaps, but I’d still like you to say it.’ He kissed your cheek. 

‘Your voice turns me on so fucking much, Eddie.’ At this moment, he finally decided to insert his fingers and push them deep inside you. ‘Oh, fuck.’

‘I fucking adore you, baby. Taking my fingers so well– shit, I can feel you clenching as I speak. Oh, you really do love it, don’t you? Just wait until I really have my way with you– oh, fuck.’ He chuckled as you reacted to his words and actions. He leaned in so his words would be directly at your ear. Soft but nasty whispers to electrify your whole being. ‘Just imagine how good it will feel when I have my cock inside you, baby. Fill you up and fuck all thoughts out of you. Until you can’t say anything but my name. Until you can’t think about anything but me.’

‘Eddiee,’ you whined as he sped up his movements, making you shake with his fingers alone. 

‘That’s right, baby. C’mon, don’t be scared to be loud. Do you know how hot you fucking sound like this? All fucked out, and because of me? Hmm, want everyone around to know how good you’re being treated here. My princess fucked like a proper queen, aren’t you?’ 

All you could do was nod. You could hear the wetness of your pussy by this point. The tight knot in your stomach was only getting worse, ready to burst, while Eddie had no intention of stopping soon. 

‘Yeah, you’re close, hmm?  Yeah, I can tell. Fuck, c’mon, come for me, baby.’ His was was so deep and aggressive that it felt more like growling. ‘Come on, my fingers. C’mon.’

When it finally happened, your whole body went limp as the pleasure overcame you.

Eddie praised you through it all, his voice now covered in honey. ‘Such a good girl. Fuck, you did so well.’ But it might have all become too much when he pulled his fingers out of you, now glistening in your juices, and put them in his mouth. He hummed with satisfaction at the taste and, once done, smiled wickedly once more and said: ‘Divine, I tell you, sweetheart. Fucking. Divine.’ His hand was soaked up to his wrist, so he went to lick his palm. ‘Might have to go in for more later on either way.’

‘Give me a moment, why don’t you,’ you laughed, out of breath.

‘Of course, of course.’ He kissed your forehead. ‘But don’t think I’m done with you just yet.’ 

the end.

yeah, kinda ironic ending there. lol. sorry.

but thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to see what you thought of it <3

[exhaslo]

Ghostface!Miguel x Reader PT.2

Part 1

Warning: Minors DNI, Smut, unprotected sex, masturbation', phone sex creampie, dirty talk and probably a bunch more.

A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to come to. Your head was pounding as you fluttered your eyes open. Before you was an unfamiliar ceiling. Trying to recall what had happened before you collapsed, you gasped and immediately checked your body. Clothes were still on and there were no stab wounds. You were alive, but for how long?

From what you recalled, you were drugged. Ghostface appeared and killed the two men who tried to take you away. This had to be his place. Why would Ghostface take you here? Was it to kill you? Realizing that you were not tied down in anyway, you quietly tried to find an exit. You needed to leave!

The only exit was either the bedroom door, or the window. Checking the window first, you gasped. You were in the top floor of an extremely tall apartment complex. You flinched as your phone buzzed, revealing it to be the unknown number.

"I-I know who you are now," You stuttered.

"Who?"

"G-Ghostface."

"Correct."

"And...I'm in one of your rooms...Waiting for you to kill me, right?" Tears were threatening to spill.

"Wrong." Ghostface said with a chuckle, "Why would I kill someone I just saved? I want something else."

You shuddered, looking around the room and noticed a camera, "What do you want?"

"I want you to touch yourself."

"T-Touch-Why?!"

"I want a different kind of relief. Lay on the bed and start, before I go out and kill someone close to you."

You whimpered lowly as you did as he said. At least he wasn't going to kill you, but for him to watch you masterbate? Your face was turning a million shades of red. You laid on the bed and slowly took off your costume. You had to do this, or someone else was going to die.

You started with your breasts, giving them a good massage as you thought of Miguel touching you. You just had to pretend that you were at home with no camera recording this. Once the thought left your mind, you returned to your pleasure. You groped and pinched your nipples, moving your hips as you thought of Miguel grinding you.

"Miguel," You whispered under your breathe.

"..."

Your fingers slid down to your clit, rubbing it in circular motion. Soft and quiet whimpers escaped your lips as you kept rubbing. Your legs spreading as you whimpered at your approaching orgasm. Quickly, you moved your fingers from your clit to your dripping hole, pumping them inside.

"Miguel~"

"Fuck," Ghostface whispered over the phone, bringing you back to your senses, "Don't stop now. Cum for me."

You bit your lower lip, unable to stop. You had literally forgotten about Ghostface until he spoke. You were surprised that he wasn't mad about you calling out another man's name. Gasping, you flinched as you fasten your pace, cumming against your fingers.

Right as you took a moment to catch your breathe, Ghostface entered the room. You yelped, about to sit up, but was pushed back down. You cried out as he entered two fingers inside your drenched hole, pumping them in faster and harder than your fingers. Tears rolled down your face as his fingers stretched you out wide.

"A-Ah~ W-Wait-" You tried to beg. Ghostface removed his mask, revealing it to be Miguel,

"How can I wait after watching you cum to thoughts of me, amor? I can't stop now." He groaned lowly, taking your breast in his mouth.

"M-Miguel?! Y-You're Ghostface?!" You barked, trembling against him as you rode his hand, "W-Why didn't you say something sooner! I was terrified!"

"Oh? Hey, (Y/N), I'm the murderous Ghostface and I dream of fucking you every night to relieve my stress. How does that sound?" Miguel asked as he curled his fingers inside your tight, gummy walls.

"Ah~ M-Mig~" You cam against his hand, panting heavily from your second orgasm, "Y-You...make a....wait...You wanted to-"

"I'm going to fuck you right here and now. You're going to be a good girl and ride my dick as many times as I make you."

You bit your lower lip as you watched him whip out his large cock from his cloak. He spread your legs over his shoulders, rubbing his tip against your folds. You shuddered in anticipation, whimpering as he pressed himself inside, stretching you out even more.

"Mig, it...t-too big."

"I said be a good girl."

Miguel slapped your thigh, waking you shake. He brought his lips to your neck, sucking against it, making as many marks as possible. You whined from the gesture, your hips rising slightly. Miguel was entering you slowly. His dick was so deep inside you that you nearly felt like cumming again from the intrusion. You gasped, your vision getting blurry as his tip started to poke you inside.

"A perfect fit." Miguel said with a smirk.

This was something you could only dream about. Your pussy was throbbing against Miguel's dick, giving him a place inside you. Right as you were about to get used to his size, Miguel pulled out, only to slap himself inside you again. You moaned loudly as he hit your cervix, causing you to see stars.

"I'm going to fill you up, make sure you know who you belong too." Miguel grunted as he started to rut into your soaked pussy.

"Y-Yes! Yes, Miguel!" You cried out, becoming overwhelmed with pleasure.

You didn't even care about Miguel being Ghostface anymore. His dick was bullying your pussy so good that you were losing sense of reason. Moans and whimpers were the only thing coming out of your mouth as Miguel drew another orgasm out of you. He watched your face contort with pleasure, slowing putting his mask back on.

"You like my dick inside you right? Being fucked by the evil and blood thirsty Ghostface feel that good?" He chuckled darkly, watching your mouth make an 'o' as he hit right in your sweet spot, "Why don't I give instead of take for once? Here, drink up."

You gasped, arching your back as you felt him force his dick as deep inside you as possible. His hot semen flooding into your womb before he started to his charade of thrusts once more. You moaned his name, begging him to slow down.

"Hm? Can't understand you. So cock drunk from my dick. Look at your pussy, sucking me dry, begging for more. I'm not letting you go. You're going to be my trophy wife."

"Y-Yes...s'good...mhm~" You babbled, moving your hips in rhythm with his. Miguel licked his lips as he kept slapping his dick inside you, giving you another fill of his cum,

"Don't let a single drop escape. If you do, I'll have to punish you." Miguel hummed as he pulled out.

You whimpered, laying on his bed, exhausted. His cum seeping out of your pussy. You were fine with whatever punishment he was going to give you. Miguel said you were going to be his wife. He wouldn't kill you as long as you kept being his good girl.

"I'll be back. Still have a few people who need to learn a lesson," Miguel told you.

You hummed in response, slowly closing your eyes. You were trapped in Miguel's web. You could tell no one about his true self. You could tell no one that you were going to be the wife of the infamous Ghostface. All you could do, was wait like a good girl and be Miguel's dear stress reliever.

[angelltheninth]

Better Than Shower Thoughts

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, age-gap, shower sex, dirty talk, marking, degradation, sex while on the phone, name calling, dad's best friend!Toji Fushiugro

Word count: 1k

A/N: This was was too good to be left unposted in my older fics.

There were few days you looked forward to then when your dad announced his trips and asked Toji to visit from time to time to make sure you were okay. He wasn't gonna leave his daughter all alone, anything could happen to you. Toji, being the good friend, always agreed, always called your dad to tell him when he arrived and telling him everything's okay.

You didn't know when he would visit so most of the time you were left to your own devices. It had been a long day without as much as a call from him, the only ones you talked to were your friends at the university. So you decided that it was a good time to take a shower, and get rid of some pent up stress you had left over.

As soon as the warm water hit your body you let out a loud groan. You didn't feel like wasting much time, your fingers pushing in deep into your pussy as you imagined it was Toji's cock. "Toji." You sighed, legs spreading, back against the tile wall and the other hand playing with your breast. "Faster." Toji was never this gentle, it was what you loved about him the most, he wasn't clueless like the guys you hooked up with before either, he knew exactly what to do to make you see stars.

"I think she's in the shower. I can hear the water running." You jumped at the sound of Toji's voice. He was standing at the door, phone to his ear, cock in hand and smirking at you, "Yeah, no problem. Do you want me to get her something to eat while she's up there? Might be a nice surprise. I know for a fact that she likes my surprises."

That was supposed to be it, he was supposed to hang up just then and set the phone aside, instead he stepped into the shower, fully clothed. Your mouth feel open when he motioned you to turn around.

"What are you do-" His hand clamped around your mouth, reminding you he was still on the phone. You had to stay quiet. Or maybe not.

"Hey mind if I watch some porn at your place? I'll be careful not to get caught. Besides your daughter's still upstairs, she can't sneak up on me." He turned you around and stepped up closer, his cock pressing against your ass, "Thanks, I get a bit bored here all by myself."

As Toji pushed his cock into you your fingers were pushed out, instead digging into the hand on your hip. Toji didn't wait for you to give him the green light, as soon as he was a few inches in he started thrusting in and out, making your cunt spread and squeeze around him.

He put the phone farther from you both as he leaned in, thick cock pushing in all the way to the balls, "What a filthy little slut I have. You like my cock fucking you?" You nodded and pushed your hips back against his, the slickness of the shower making your ass slippery against him but still making enough noise to echo around the bathroom. "What do you need?"

"Harder. I need it hard. Been waiting all day for you, Toj-" His hand closed around your mouth again. You moaned against it, still loud despite the barrier.

"The little slut is getting railed. Wish I was the one doing it. Fuck, her pussy looks amazing like that." Toji commented snapping his hips into yours with force. "I'm not gonna tell you the title, you fucking pervert." He was one to talk, "But I can turn it up for you, she sounds really nice." His hand left your mouth when he put the phone closer to you, letting your moans be heard freely for a few seconds. "Hear how vocal this one is? Ah, and listen to that pussy get fucked." Next the phone was right under your cunt, your slick dripping onto the phone screen as he continued to fuck you.

This was still your secret, you were still safe, "It feels so good. Speed up, come on, you're not gonna break me."

"Yeah, bitch is a real cumwhore from the looks of it. Fuck, maybe this was a bad idea. I'm getting hard and your daughter's upstairs. You know I'd never do anything bad in front of her. I'll, hang up, I think I heard the water turn off. Okay, talk to you after I'm done here." The call ended and Toji was now free to handle you as he pleased, his fingers reaching to tease your clit, "Naughty girl, you didn't even stop to think we could get caught. But then again you can't think when you have my cock in you can you? Anyone could walk in here and you'd still be glad you're getting fucked by me. What if it's one of your friends? Or one of those useless guys you let fuck you? As far as I'm concerned they could use a lesson. Watch you get fucked by a real man."

None of that was what you wanted to happen but the idea of it made your cunt flood with arousal. You couldn't stop your orgasm, your hips from bucking, smacking back into Toji's, the feeling of his cock too good to think about anything else.

"What was that you said before? That I wasn't gonna break you? You look pretty cockbroken to me, sweetheart." Toji decided so with pride, "Give me your neck, I want to leave at least one reminder of me on your body."

"What? But, my dad, he'll see it for sure."

"Yes." He dragged his lips up your neck, "And he'll know then that his daughter is a whore. He might even ask me to stop by more often to make sure you're not behaving badly. Can you imagine the disappointed looked in his eyes when he sees this mark, not knowing it was his best friend who put it there and used his precious daughter like the whore she was?"

Even with your mind protesting against the thoughts your body responded the way Toji wanted. Your pussy spasmed, tightened, orgasm coming in a string of broken sobs as he railed your slutty cunt. This was it, this was what you wanted, what you needed, what no one else could know you craved.

[s4wdvator]

a friend of a friend — sam winchester

SUMMARY: Sam went to a Halloween party because of his best friend, and when he found himself bored and wanting to leave, his friend finally decided to introduce him a friend.

PAIRING: Stanford!Sam Winchester x fem!reader

WORDS COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: smut, y/n used two times *i guess*, gentle sam, oral sex (f! receiving), p in v, kisses, sam playing breasts, sam embarrassed, sassy reader lmaojejejej

a/n: I literally think I nailed it this time HHEHEJE, I literally loved writing this. I love Stanford! Sam. I think I should write something with him lol. Have a good read!!

sam winchester | masterlist | more abt me!

English is not my first language, I apologize if there is any mistake <3 (maybe I interchange 'he' and 'she' too much. I'm so sorry)

This fic will have sexual content. MDNI

Sam was not a party guy, especially those of Halloween - which reminded him of his reality- He didn't have many friends in his childhood or adolescence, he never managed to stay long enough in a school to have real friends or even a girl. But then when he managed to cut ties with his father and won a scholarship at Stanford University, he felt free for the first time.

In just a few days at the University, a blonde girl named Jessica soon befriended Sam, and with this new friendship with Jess, he became invited to events, outings and parties of Jessica's most popular friends.

Now, Sam is stuck at a Halloween party in some dorm. He has a plastic cup with any drink he found and drank, he was really already under the influence of alcohol but not necessarily drunk. He looked around the old couch he was sitting on, where just staring at the place he was in, made him sigh, because all he wanted was to be in his dorm, quiet and just studying, nothing very difficult to have, if Jessica hadn't begged.

It had been almost half an hour since he was there, doing nothing, just trying to finish the drink from his glass. When he really couldn't finish, he just left it next to a fainted guy on the couch. He got up, looking for Jessica, just to say goodbye to his friend, he was determined to leave there. As he walked, he murmured several "I'm sorry" to the lowest people he ended up bumping into. When he finally found Jess, she was in the kitchen talking to some girl who was with her back to him, where he just saw the back costume, which was from Alice in Wonderland.

"Sam!" Jess said excitedly as she faced her friend.

"Hey..." Sam said in a simple and slightly embarrassed way for being close to a presence he doesn't know.

"I'm glad you're here," Jessica said, throwing the typical mischievous look and smiling, "Well, this one is y/n!" The blonde said smiling and excited, she was definitely drunk.

Jess had definitely already talked about this friend of hers, y/n, like, Jessica had been trying to get this girl for him for almost a month.

"Well, I'll let you talk. I'm going to go after a refill," Jess said getting up and smiling at the two friends and soon leaving the kitchen.

"Hey...I'm Sam. Jess she had already said...a lot about you" He said putting his hands on the back of his neck and scratching, in a shame.

You can't help but smile, he was definitely cute and clearly under this outfit—that you couldn't identify what his fantasy was—he had a muscular chest and trunk, maybe nothing really exaggerated. It was crazy how, you hadn't even spoken to him properly and you already imagined him shirtless.

"Well... Hi Sam" You said excitedly, while smiling. You didn't know if it was already alcohol taking over your mind or you were just really happy.

You and Sam were talking for long minutes, you found out that his major here at Stanford was right, he is 21 years old, he has one more brother, Dean, 25 years old, his mother died in a kind of fire or something, and he and his father fought. His life was chaos, definitely. But apparently he loved you and loved the fact that you were studying psychology here at Stanford, since he didn't say a word to talk about. Everything he said, he found a way to return to the subject due to the fact that you are a future psychologist. He also praised you too much, this guy is a real gentleman.

With a few more minutes of conversation, the party started to get music and more colorful led's which caused you to no longer be able to talk so clearly when listening to each other.

"Do you want to go to my dorm?" You finally had the courage to ask him, of course, with a slight hesitation and fear of what the answer would be and if it would be some kind of rejection.

"Of course" He smiled more sympathetically at you.

When you had already gone to your dorm, you started talking to him normally, and clearly he listened to you attentively but couldn't stop paying attention to your lips, how they moved, how you sometimes licked him or bit him like a kind of craze of yours, or how your sweet voice came out of your throat.

"Do you want to sit down?" You asked him, pointing to his bed, while you took off your black high-heeled boot and sat on your bed.

"Yeah...I mean, of course," he said more embarrassedly, causing slight laughter coming from you and soon he sat next to her, but he didn't expect to be so close to the points of her thighs that were involved in her black trawler, touching his long legs.

"So, what kind of music do you like? I mean, it's 2004, you have to have something good about music" You joked while looking into his eyes, which you thought were brown but in fact, surprisingly, they were green.

"Well... I hear these classic things more. Metallic, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC..." He began to say, and that made you make a surprise face and face him.

"Really? No Usher? Justin Timberlake? I don't know" She laughed, clearly surprised that he just listened to classic rock.

"Whet? No, I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great. But I grew up listening to this kind of music and...well, doing things with my father and I didn't have much time to get to know pop culture, jazz and etc.," he said smiling, while staring at you in an enchanted way.

"Get it. But it's okay, I'll show you" You smiled staring at him, and he let out a loose laugh.

"You're funny" He smiled and stared at you for a few seconds, analyzing her blurred Alice's makeup. The way your hair was more or less messy. The way his lips called him and seemed more kissable than before. And before he could really think about what to say to her, he kissed her, not knowing if he would receive a slap in the face, a push or a curse coming from him. Surprisingly, you responded to the kiss more in the mood than him, while his hands went to his face, theirs were already holding his waist firmly, which seemed nothing compared to his big hands.

He carefully guided you to his lap, while the kiss was getting longer and longer, you could feel his hands touching every inch of you, now, with the kiss slightly intensifying, his hands were now caressing his thighs, sometimes some of his fingers entering inside the holes of her black line trawler, which honestly, for him is quite sexy.

His hands traveled to the buttons of the dress, which were located on his back, while he worked on unbuttoning his blue and white Alice dress. His hands were taking off his dark blue denim jacket.

She let out a slight moan when his hands slid to her thighs and then entered inside her dress, and when she touched her waist to be able to take off her dress. And once your dress came out of your body, and you were only in your bra and panties. He let out a sigh, admiring, before holding you firmly by the hips and kissing your neck next to the collarbone and he stared down, seeing the contour of your breasts and let out a sigh and smiled, you are beautiful from his point of view.

He carefully took you and left it underneath, he kept kissing your body and carefully, their hands went to the back of your bra and unbuttoned the buttons of the bra. When the bra got loose on his shoulders, he took it off and stared at his breasts—which seemed too perfect from his point of view—and then, he began to kiss his left breast while his big hands circled the shape of his right breast, he sucked his nipple and you let out a slight moan and put your hands on his hair, when he finished the service and attention to his breasts, he began to kiss his stomach until he reached his panties, he stared at you, as if he had asked for a kind of permission and you just nodded your head, already desperate for the The idea of his touch in your intimate area.

He carefully left a kiss against his panties and hit his clitoris right—which was already swollen with so much desire, along with how soaked you were—he put his hands on the straps of his panties and pulled down and smiled when he saw your naked pussy, just for him.

He sighed against his intimacy, causing a slight pleasure in his body.

Sam gently opened your legs better and then began to kiss his thighs, slow and wet kisses, until he reached his pussy. He started with kisses on the clitoris before moving forward and using his tongue two more times and then starting to work more with his tongue at his entrance, but his pointed and beautiful nose kept pressing his clitoris with each advance with his tongue at his entrance. Causing moans in the dorm.

While he did it slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible. His hands were on his hair, pulling, picking up, caressing, while his hips arched against his mouth.

When he started to accelerate more with his tongue, you moaned feeling that maybe you couldn't take that much.

"Sam..." You tried to warn that it wouldn't last that long.

He smiled, understanding the message of despair in his speech and accelerated more, when you saw it, you had come into his mouth, and he was eating his pussy for a few more 30 minutes and finally, took off his shirt and concentrated on his lips, while his hands caressed his chest—which was exactly as you imagined, muscular but hot and not at all exaggerated—his hands began to unbutton his pants and then take off and soon get into boxers.

You pulled him closer, and felt how big he really was, you couldn't tell if it scared you or excited you, maybe both.

So, he got rid of his boxers, and you were seeing his cock for the first time, it was thick, big and it was very hard, which made you unintentionally but genuinely smile.

You tried to touch, giving the intention that you also wanted to do oral, but he denied it, saying:

"I'm a gentleman. What kind of guy would I be having a blowjob on the first night with you? Sorry princess, next time" He smiled at you, making you laugh that he was such a gentleman.

"Fine" You smiled.

Then, the head of his cock pressed against his clitoris and rubbed lightly.

"Sam..." You let out a weak moan for the provocation coming from him.

He laughed, murmuring a 'sorry' before his cock rubbed his pussy and then the head of his cock began to enter his entrance.

'Oh my God' you thought.

So, he tried to advance another part of his big father and then his hands squeezing his broad shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"M'Okay...it's just bigger than I expected" She laughed and so did he and sighed relieved.

When he began to move slowly and carefully, the entire length of his penis entered you and you could no longer hold the moans. He was being so careful, and loving with you that he surprised you.

While he stocked up strong but gently, despite reaching the cervix of her uterus, it is being one of the most pleasurable experiences of his life. His hands held his hips, to get more momentum. His others were now on his back, scratching, but nothing to the point of hurting him on purpose.

You smiled when you were getting closer and closer to reaching your climax. So, as if it were a way to try to get there faster, his hands that were on his back went to his ass, trying to force him to go deeper and he laughed.

"Calm down sassy girl" He whispered and smiled at her.

You let out a laugh, before you felt the climax approaching and he smiled when her walls began to squeeze his cock, understanding that she was very close.

"You can let go, babe" She whispered in her ear and kissed her jaw. The nickname caused chills all over your body and without thinking, you came surprisingly next to him. You let out a moan and sighed.

"God..." You whispered and he laid his face on your neck, still with his cock inside you "You better not have made me pregnant" she whispered jokingly, and he laughed, realizing that they had had had unprotected sex, which would be worrying, if you did not take care of yourself and were taking contraceptives.

"It's okay, I hope" he smiled and kissed you again, before taking his penis out of you and lying next to you and hugging you and you hugging him back as you felt him cover him and you with the blanket of your bed. And so, you ended up sleeping, feeling Sam caress your hair.

[urhoneycombwitch]

Hello baby happy high night!!! I would like to make a request for your horniest roommate!eddie thots plzz I can't stop thinking about him. Just the dynamic and all the sexual tension and the not-fucking and the wanting to fuck... I'm drooling...

I keep imagining like a really intense earnest conversation with him and reader about like their sexual preferences in a totally casual way with no ulterior motives because friends talk about that stuff right?? 👀 Is this anything? 👀👀

foreword: oh this is absolutely something. thanks for sparking this blurb anon!! 

cw: no actual smut but discussions of sex + kinks + masturbation, implied plus sized Reader with breasts, Eddie + R are in an established (but secret) situationship, (also a secret are the) feelings. 

wc: 1.2k

There’s this sketchy metal ladder in your apartment building on the top floor, leads right to the roof- no one ever uses it ‘cuz it’s really out of the way and looks super unsafe. But ever since Eddie broke out his toolkit and reinforced the bars and screws, it’s been the gateway to a perfect little summer escape.

Sitting on your loungers with paperbacks, flipping over every few minutes to distribute the golden sun evenly between your front and back- you and Eddie are having a rare, peaceful afternoon. Just the two of you, overlooking the city from your probably-illegal hangout spot, basking in just your underthings (it’s hot, and you’ll both tan better, and besides, no one around to stare except each other).

After finishing another chapter, you push yourself to sit up, lying on your stomach and leaning into your forearms to peer at Eddie through the dark tint of your sunglasses. “Hey. Have you ever tried anal?”

Eddie’s unphased, well used to the way you tend to pick up threads of conversation with startling randomness. He raises a dark brow over the rim of his own tortoiseshell sunglasses, sprawled content on his back, hands folded atop his bare stomach. 

Hums, thoughtfully, before rolling his head lazily towards your lounger- “Yeah. On someone else, no- but on me, yeah.”

Interest piqued, you lean forward further, the soft slopes of your breasts spilling slightly out of the cups of your bra but uncaring as you press, “Wait, really? Was it… like, you got pegged? Or was it a-”

“Buttplug,” Eddie confirms, head lolling back into place. Chocolate curls with a golden-light lustre shift over his shoulders- freckle-smattered from all the sunbathing- as he returns, casually, “And you?”

“Nah.” You poke a finger between the threaded plastic of the lounger beneath the length of your prone body. “I mean, I’ve never been into anal- not really my thing- but, uh, pegging. Yeah. I can get into that.”

“Me too.” Eddie blows out a mournful sigh. “Not really a first-date type of conversation, though, and that’s all I seem to be having these days.”

“How about choking?” You want to keep focused on the subject before it gets hijacked with another existential spiral about your on-the-rocks love lives. 

“Yep. And before you ask- both done to me, and done to a partner. Check and check.” His head rolls back towards you, an invitation to share.

“Choking is cool.” Your finger breaks through the thin plastic, a perfect hole punched in the shape of your index left behind. “I prefer to be the one doing it, though. More control that way.”

Eddie nods to show he’s listening. His hand slips to his thigh, pulling at the hem of his swimsuit shorts. “Yeah, sure. Makes sense.”

A beat. And then, in the uncanny way of people who spend too much time together, you and Eddie both say the same thing at the same time.

“What else are you into?”

Another beat, and then you both crack up, loud guffaws and cackles as Eddie’s teeth flash white and you reach for your water glass with fingers shaky from laughter, feeling suddenly overheated. 

“You first,” Eddie says, playing the part of gentlemen, a twinkle of leftover amusement still evident in his voice.

“Um.” The water glass clinks as you set it back down, touching your lips to the back of your hand before answering. “I like my nipples being sucked on. Played with. They’re sensitive, so… I get a lot out of it.”

Eddie’s gone very still, and you’d almost wonder if he's fallen asleep if not for his chest rising in fast rhythm. He clears his throat, nostrils flaring with a quick breath. “Oh. Right. That’s… great. Good for you.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes, taking sick pleasure in seeing some of his bravado be melted away with just a few words. “Your turn to answer.”

“Nipples-” it’s almost comical how quickly he speaks, and then stops himself, like that’s been the only thing on his mind and he accidentally let it out. “Uh. I mean. I like nipples, too.”

Eddie’s your favorite bear to poke at. After crossing your legs at the ankle, you kick them up behind you, coquettish and simpering. “Yeah? Like, you like your nipples being played with, or someone else’s-”

“Fucking christ.” Eddie shoves the flat of his hands underneath his glasses, scrubbing down his face before sitting up- pointedly turned away from you, feet planted on the roof over the side of his lounger as he hunches forward. “Any of it. All of it. Yours, mine, whoever the hell else wants to join. I feel like I’m burning up.”

“Poor thing.” You stretch to run a sympathetic hand down Eddie’s curved spine, fingers dancing on the constellations of freckles and black ink. “I think you should cool off inside, for a bit. Maybe release some steam in your bedroom before I get back?”

“You know what I think?” Eddie’s words sound half-squeezed, wrung out more the further south your hand travels. “I think you might be the devil. Or some sort of witch. Haven’t decided yet.”

“Keep brainstorming, pal.” With one last stroke to the planes of his muscles, you ease yourself back into lying face-down, settling your forehead into the flat of your crossed arms. “I’ll be down in ten. Don’t come without me.”

Eddie freezes, hand floating in mid-air over the book between his feet. He recovers in an impressive three seconds, resuming the collection of his things- book, towel that gets slung low around his waist, your now-empty water glass. 

“Make it a quick ten, would ya.” He knows you’ll probably make it twenty, now, just to torture him, but Eddie can’t hold back the words as the last of his head disappears in his ladder descent.

There’s no one to hear but you huff, anyway. In an impressive three whole minutes, you’ll be skittering down the ladder after Eddie, diving into your vibrator drawer first thing. 

It’s like the apartment contractors purposefully designed the thin insulation to give future roommates an audience; every gasp, every whimper, every wet noise of his fist on his cock or your fingers plunging into yourself- heard clear as day through the shared wall. Something that started out as accidental voyeurism has now morphed into ritual, sacred and shared nearly every night. 

Unconsciously, your thighs squeeze together at the memories rushing hot through your bloodstream. 

You might need to leave the roof, soon- you think you might be burning up.

[daechwitatamic]

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t || MYG

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t

WC: 11k

Genre: exes to lovers, the babiest angst straight to fluffy smut (they’ve got shit to work out, but they get there!!)

Summary: You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Rating: NSFW - minors DNI

Warnings: manbun!yoongi YES THAT IS A WARNING, drinking, language, kissing, breast play/nip stim, fingering, unprotected sex with bc (be safer than this!!!), multiple orgasms (f), penetrative sex, soft idiots in love 

A/N: Merry Christmas, Kelly!!!! @here4btsfics I was soooooo excited to pull your name for @bangtansecretsanta because it gave me such a good opportunity to get to know you better and start talking to you! I really, really hope you love this little Christmas fic! 

I know you said no angst so just a lil disclaimer, a synopsis I messaged my beta was "it hurts for a hot minute but then they kiss about it and everyone is fine" so I think you'll be okay!!!

Huge thank you to @kookstempo @moonleeai and @cherrysoulth for beta-ing and to @itaeewon for the gorgeous banner!

“Anything new with you? How’s work?”

You plaster on what you hope is a friendly smile and not a sarcastic one. Seokjin’s girlfriend is super nice, you remember her from a party over the summer, but you do not want to talk about work right now. You want to drown yourself in another cinnamon toast crunch cocktail and double-fist those iced, reindeer-shaped brown-sugar cookies. 

You admit to being a little bit on edge. 

You’ve attended Taehyung’s annual Christmas party every year since you left for college. It’s tradition, and it’s one of the only times each year that the whole group is back together again after you all went your separate ways in the world. 

Except, for the last five years, Yoongi hadn’t attended. You never thought too much about why - too busy, other plans, just the fact that he’s an absolute Grinch… or maybe it’s your presence that keeps him away. You didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. You’re just always happy he isn’t there.

Until this year.

No one even had the decency to shoot you a warning text. Hey, heads up, your ex is here, very unexpectedly.

You knock back the rest of your drink and head to make yourself a new one.

You normally attach yourself to Jimin at these, but he’s betrayed you this year by bringing an absolutely gorgeous date. They’re currently hogging the doorway with mistletoe above it. You make a mental note to remind him tomorrow that the PDA thing stops being cute after a while.

“Work’s good,” you say, finally answering the question. “Nothing new. How about you and Jin? All good?”

“Nothing new to report!” she grins. Then, the smile slips off her face a little as she glances at her phone. She notices you watching and grimaces. “Sorry,” she says, “I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just keeping an eye on the radar. The storm tonight is supposed to get nasty.”

“Hey! What’s the rule tonight?” a voice bellows from the living room. It’s Taehyung, perched against the back of one of his couches, and he points an accusatory finger at the girl you’re talking to.

She must know something you don’t, because while you’re baffled, she looks chagrined. “Don’t talk about the blizzard,” she recites by rote. 

“Don’t talk about the blizzard,” he repeats. “Have another drink. It’s Christmas Eve, we welcome the snow.”

“You’re the only person I know who’s optimistic enough to try to throw a party on a night they’re calling for the storm of the century,” Seokjin tells him, making his way into the kitchen - probably to protect his girlfriend from Taehyung’s scoldings. 

“They say that every time,” Taehyung scoffs, waving a hand. Then he’s up and moving, heading towards the dining room, where a spread of food is laid out. 

There must be more people in there, you think, because the kitchen and the living room are definitely looking a little less crowded than they were an hour ago. Yoongi and Hoseok are on the couch, glasses in hand, talking quietly. The tv, mounted high on the wall, plays a classic Christmas film in black and white. You stop before the balcony doors, peering out into the night. The lamps that line the parking lot glow orange, and you can see in the lamplight that snow is falling steadily, and it’s starting to accumulate a little on the pavement below. 

Jimin comes up beside you. His date’s lipstick is still smudged in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a hot mess,” you tell him affectionately. 

“I think we’re gonna head out,” he tells you, ignoring the jab.

You shake your head, your earrings glittering in your reflection in the glass. “It’s not even nine,” you point out.

“The roads are going to get slick,” he tells you, suddenly serious. “You should think about getting an Uber before too long, too.”

“You’re going to break Taehyung’s heart,” you inform him. “I think he’s starting to catch on that people are leaving.”

“He should have rescheduled the party!” Jimin says hotly; he and Taehyung had argued about this passionately all week, ever since the forecast picked up on the storm coming through. “We could have done this yesterday, no blizzard, everyone would have stayed all night!”

Jimin’s date slinks over and presses her hand to his upper back. “Ready?” she asks, voice like silk. 

“Bye,” you tell him sulkily. In the reflection, you watch him pause to tell Yoongi and Hoseok goodbye. They each stand, reaching in one at a time to give him a quick one-armed hug goodbye. 

You keep watching the reflection in the glass as Hoseok takes advantage of already being up and heads for the dining room.

You knew it would happen at some point tonight - you’re alone in the living room with Yoongi. You’d just hoped it would happen after you were a lot drunker. 

He meanders over. You glance at the drink in his hand - whiskey, neat. You could have guessed that on a gameshow and earned some money. 

He’s dressed in all black - down to the chelsea boots. His hair is half-up in a bun that sits just behind the crown of his head. The rest brushes the tops of his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. 

He’d never had long hair like this before. It’s a crime how fucking good it looks. 

Your gameplan tonight has been simple: avoid, avoid, avoid. But Yoongi stands close enough to reach out and touch you, sips at his whiskey, and murmurs, “It’s been a while.”

Five years. But who’s counting? 

“It has,” you allow. You hate confrontation, you don’t want this to be a thing. You’re determined to be polite, play nice, and hopefully get out of here unscathed. “How have you been? Are you enjoying yourself?” 

He wiggles his head. “Eh. You know I’m not into all that holly, jolly shit.”

“It’s a Christmas party,” you point out flatly. “Holly, jolly is kind of the point.”

He shrugs. “The point for me is just to see the guys, catch up with everyone. It’s been a long time since we were all together.”

He means we the guys, not we you and him. But your heart still speeds up at the word, the traitor.

You nod, turning away from him to look outside again. But your eyes stay on his reflection, both of you standing with your backs to the party. He looks down at his drink, swirls the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass.

“You always did hate the holidays,” you observe absently. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he says, so gently that it shocks you into turning to look at him.

“Do what?”

“Rehash everything,” he says with a shrug. “Talk about everything we remember. Talk at all.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t,” you snap, suddenly defensive and heated. “You came over here, not the other way around.” So much for polite and non-confrontational. But damn, he has some audacity.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, a little quickly, holding up his one empty hand like he’s surrendering. “I just meant… don’t feel like you have to, if you don’t want to. Don’t do it for my sake.”

Your temper settles, but you still feel a little… disgruntled, unsettled. “If I didn’t want to talk to you, I wouldn’t be,” you grumble. 

He smiles at this. “That’s right. You never do anything you don’t want to do.”

Maybe that used to be the case. 

The liquor takes over your mouth. “I didn’t want to break up,” you say pointedly, “so I guess that’s not true.”

He huffs out a single laugh, shaking his head at your audacity. “You always just say shit,” he murmurs. “To hell with the consequences.”

“What consequences?” you demand, turning to face him fully. “Are you going to dump me more? I fail to see how I could make things worse for us after five years of not speaking.”

He licks his lips, eyes on his glass again. That was the thing about you and Yoongi - he’s right, you did just say shit. And he always just handled it. He always heard you, processed it, and dealt with it productively. He never took the bait and got mad back, never yelled - even when you’d wished he’d yell. 

“It’s because,” he’d told you, sometime around seven years ago, when you were together, “when you say absolutely wild shit like that, you always mean something else. And I just happen to be very good at translating you.”

Now, he meets your eyes again, having processed. Having translated. “What I’m hearing you say,” he says slowly, “is that you’re still mad at me.”

That’s all it takes to take the wind out of your sails - that’s always how it worked with you and Yoongi. You blustered and got worked up, and he defused you easily - just by meeting your gaze, just by assuring you that you were heard. 

“I think I’m mad at our circumstances,” you correct quietly. “And I think I’ve had too many of these.” You eye the cocktail in your hand with narrowed, accusatory eyes.

He gives you the barest sliver of a smile. “Don’t blame the drinks,” he says, shaking his head. “You never could lie to me - it has nothing to do with alcohol.”

He’s right. For all your faults, for all the negatives you can take credit for, you always told him the truth.

Namjoon appears in the living room, a beer in hand, still in the bottle. 

“I’m trying to decide which one of you needs to be rescued from the other,” he admits, looking between you, “and I honestly can’t tell.”

“Rescue him from me,” you say. “He’s been nice and I’ve been prickly.” 

“You?” Namjoon says in mock surprise. “Prickly? No way.”

You flip him off, smiling. 

Seokjin comes up behind Namjoon, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think we’re going,” he says, looking past you to the snow outside. “I don’t want to drive once the roads are slick.”

Namjoon sighs, following his gaze. “I was having fun,” he says sadly. “But I’m probably not too far behind you.”

“Nooo,” Taehyung whines from the dining room. “Everyone stop leaving! It’s just a little snow!”

Seokjin’s girlfriend finds him, joining your little circle, her phone still in her hand. “We’re supposed to have almost three inches by midnight,” she says in a whisper, clearly not wanting Taehyung to come after her. “We need to get moving.”

When Seokjin and his girlfriend leave, you float back towards the dining room. Namjoon and Yoongi stay behind, talking quietly. Probably, Namjoon is checking to make sure you weren’t too mean to him. Which… that’s fair. 

The truth is, you aren’t mad at Yoongi. How could you be? When he ended things, he hadn’t been cruel, or unfair. His decision had been made logically. You understood exactly why he felt he needed to do it.

That’s where the hurt came from, you figured. You were always led by your emotions - quick to anger, but quick to laugh. Yoongi was always more even-tempered, logical. While you were packing up your life to move away from home for university, he’d laid out the reasons you shouldn’t stay together like they were a grocery list. 

Like it didn’t hurt him at all. 

None of his reasons were wrong. But would it have killed him to act like he cared? You’d been together three years - and you felt like they should count more, since they were such formative ones. Like dog years - each one should have counted for seven. It had broken your heart to let him walk away - shouldn’t he have felt something, too?

You’d dated plenty in college, a few of those relationships getting serious enough to last a few months. But at the end of the day, nobody compared to your first love. How could they? How could anyone? 

No one understood you like Yoongi. No one could translate you like Yoongi. No one knew - or learned - how to settle you down like Yoongi. No one had that mental encyclopedia of useless knowledge like Yoongi. No one else had that perfect blend of dry and earnest like Yoongi. No one else fit to your body like a puzzle piece like Yoongi. 

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now. Yoongi had left, Yoongi had taken the decision right out of your hands and walked away with it. You weren’t mad at him, but you definitely resented that.

You’d had years to get over it, to forgive him, to come to terms with the fact that he was right about every single thing. But forgiveness and understanding are one thing. Letting go - of him, of loving him - is something else entirely, and you’re starting to think that even a lifetime of years won’t be enough for that.

That’s enough of that, you think, giving yourself a rough mental shake. You set down your drink glass and head for the bathroom, but it’s occupied. You lean against the wall outside, counting your breaths, trying to get yourself back into that holly, jolly headspace. 

The door opens and Jungkook emerges, singing under his breath, “Pah-rum-pum-pum-pum!”

“Hi, JayKay,” you say, moving to slide past him into the bathroom.

“Oh, hey!” he says brightly. “I was just about to leave. You have a way to get home, right? It’s getting worse out there.”

“I was just going to Uber,” you tell him.

“Better do it soon,” he warns. “Soon the drivers aren’t going to want to be on the roads.”

“Good point,” you say, and wave a quick goodbye before shutting the bathroom door. You give yourself a stern look in the mirror.

Get it together, please, you think firmly. Seeing your ex - this ex, too, not just a casual one - for the first time in five years earns you a little wallowing, you think, and you fully intend to. At home. Later. Not here, in front of everyone. 

Not here, in front of him. 

Back in the kitchen, the party has really dwindled down to the last few people. Outside, snow falls as steadily as Taehyung’s guest list. 

The peer pressure gets to you, and you pull out your phone and open a ride-share app. It takes a while before a driver connects, but you’re persistent. Once you have a driver, you watch the little image of their car start to head in your direction on the map.

From the dining room, you hear Yoongi make a tch of frustration. “No one is picking up for me,” he grumbles, seemingly to himself. 

“Good,” Taehyung says seriously. “Don’t leave me.”

You go find your coat, slipping your arms into the sleeves and doing up each button. When you return to the dining room, Yoongi and Taehyung are the only ones left. Taehyung is fully, blatantly, sulking, his arms crossed on the table and his chin resting dejectedly atop them.

“Better luck next time, bud,” you tell him kindly. 

Yoongi is still squinting at his phone screen, frowning.

You feel a twinge of concern, of the need to make it better for him the way you used to on a regular basis. “Still nothing?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t even see anyone on the map.”

You check your phone again - your car is just up the road. “I have one,” you tell him. “Join mine - we’ll just request the extra stop.”

Yoongi meets your eyes, holds your gaze for a minute. Then, he says, so seriously, “Are you sure?”

You know he means it. You know if you give any indication that you don’t want him in a car with you, he won’t push it. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Of course. I’m not going to leave you stranded here.”

“Why not?” Taehyung whines, kicking his feet a little in protest. 

“My car’s just here though,” you warn, eyes on your screen, both of you absolutely ignoring the host of the party. 

“I’ll grab my coat,” Yoongi says, and heads for the hallway.

“Sorry, Taehyung,” you say sympathetically. “I know you’re sad.”

He refuses to look at you. 

After giving over-the-top goodbye hugs to try and un-sulk the whiny baby, you and Yoongi head down the stairs and outside. You don’t look behind you to check that Yoongi is following. The car idles by the curb, and you double-check the license plate against the app. 

In the backseat of the car, you slide over to make room for Yoongi. As soon as he closes his door and the car lurches into motion, the vibe changes. You sit stiffly, ramrod straight, eyes on the windshield. Yoongi’s not sitting quite as straight as you, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, like he’s holding himself carefully so he doesn’t touch you by accident with the car’s inertia. 

You had put in your parent’s address when you requested the ride, since that’s where you’re staying until New Years’ Day. You and Yoongi sit in blasting, blaring silence as the car crosses the middle of the town you’d both grown up in, that you’d run around in together as teenagers in love. But, past town, towards the quiet neighborhood where your parents’ house is, the car slows to a stop.

“I can’t go through this way, Miss,” your driver says, peering at you through the rearview mirror. “There’s a powerline down up there.”

“Oh shit,” you say, which is probably not very polite of you. You lean forward to look at the same time Yoongi does, your shoulders bumping. You both recoil quickly. 

“I think you can get to the development from the other side,” you muse, “but we’d have to backtrack and go around the lake on the other side…”

“Let’s just go to my place,” Yoongi interjects. “The roads are getting worse, and it’s close.”

You frown. Yoongi’s parents’ house - which you’d been to plenty of times as a younger person - is on the other side of town. Not close by your standards, but you aren’t here to argue.

Or maybe you are.

“I don’t know, Yoongi,” you say, uncertainty creeping into your voice. “How will I get home from there?”

“You might have to stay,” he admits, leaning down to better look at the road through the front windshield. The driver sits, watching you debate, waiting for a directive. 

You give Yoongi a silent look like, okay, and so you see my problem?

He scoffs at you. “It’s fine. We can handle one night.”

You want to ask, how sure are you about that? Instead, you start to tell the driver Yoongi’s parents’ address. 

“Wait,” Yoongi says, putting a hand gently on your arm to stop you. You both freeze, looking at the point of contact. Yoongi shakes himself out of it first, and tells the driver a different address. 

The car shifts back into drive and you look at Yoongi quizzically.

“Did your family move?” you ask finally.

Here’s the thing. You know Yoongi, you get Yoongi; five years apart hasn’t changed that at all. So when he licks his lips, shifts his gaze to his feet, and starts rubbing the back of his neck, you know it’s guilt.

“Yoongi?” you prod, suspicious.

He mumbles something, still not looking at you.

“What?” you snap. “You what?”

“I sort of moved back last month…” he repeats to the floor. 

“You live here?” you repeat, dumbfounded. “You live in town again?”

“Currently, yeah,” he says, and there’s something in that currently that you’d really like to examine, but you’re still fucking floored. 

Yoongi had gone to university in the city - hours away. The distance thing was reasons one through four of his Why We Need to Break Up list. It had made sense, logistically. It made sense when you went abroad for university, and he stayed here. It made sense when you returned and got an internship and then a full-time job in a different city, hours in the opposite direction. It made sense when you managed to go five entire years without being in the same place.

But now he was here. Reasons one through four, moot. 

Reasons five to whatever largely revolved around being young and needing to experience the world and figure out what you want in life, that kind of shit. Now it’s five years later and you’ve both experienced plenty of bullshit.

Reasons five through whatever, moot. 

You wonder, wordlessly, heart pounding again, if Yoongi knows or cares that every reason he gave you to validate walking away no longer applies. 

“You live here,” you repeat. You’re stuck on it, you can’t move on. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” he says guiltily. “I know you didn’t. I… was honestly fighting with myself about if I should reach out or not. I guess I ultimately decided not… since you’re in the city, and you have your whole life and everything…”

What life? You wonder. 

The car pulls into a small, understated neighborhood. You’ve been here before; your chemistry partner from tenth grade lived in this development, you’d come to do homework more than once.

It’s always so weird to come back to this town, where everywhere you go has memories, secondary definitions. It’s not just a library, it’s the library where Yoongi had kissed you for the first time. It’s not just a park, it’s the park where you’d had your first fight, where you’d screamed at him in front of God and the ducks and all the moms pushing strollers. It’s not just a diner, it’s the diner where Yoongi had told you that it made no sense to try and stay together from different time zones. 

Everything came back to him. It always had. It always does. In a lot of ways, you felt like you were fated to be tied to him this way - and you usually didn’t believe in shit like that. 

You always break your own rules for him.

The place is small, and not very Yoongi-ish, but you keep your thoughts to yourself as Yoongi slides out of the car and waits for you. 

“Get home safe,” you tell the driver before closing the door. Yoongi’s got his house keys in his hand, and he leads you up the walkway. It’s slick, and you try to step only in the footprints he leaves in the inch of snow coating the ground.

Inside, the light over the sink illuminates a small, mostly empty kitchen. That’s not very Yoongi-ish either, you think. You remember him cooking all the time - appliances everywhere, cutting boards hanging, pots and pans stored on hooks. 

He passes the kitchen and enters what looks like the living room, reaching to click on a few dim lamps. They cast a yellow glow to the room.

You set down your purse and fold your coat up on top of it. Yoongi waits for you in the living room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the window, watching the snow. His jawline from the side nearly takes your breath away. He’s so damn beautiful it makes you sick.

And he’s back, Yoongi is back. 

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, finally looking at you.

“Whatever you’re having would be great,” you tell him. You settle gingerly on one end of the couch as he busies himself in the kitchen. You shoot your parents a quick text that the roads were too bad and you weren’t going to make it back to their place so they wouldn’t worry. 

Yoongi returns with two glasses of red wine. He hands you one wordlessly and sits opposite you on the couch.

“So,” you say. The awkward, hyper-polite vibe from the car is back. Like you’re strangers. Like you didn’t know each other inside and out, once. “You’ve been here a month?”

“Just shy of it,” Yoongi corrects politely. “I signed a two month lease, so… I’ve got a few weeks to figure out my next move.”

“You don’t think you’ll stay?” you ask, then sip at the wine. It’s good - of course it’s good, he’s got great taste. You love and hate that about him.

He shrugs, drinks from his own glass. “Doubt it.”

He doesn’t give you any more information than that - why he’s back, what’s next for him, why he’s here for such a short time. 

You don’t press it. He’ll tell you if he wants to. 

Instead, you both drink in silence. Outside, the snow seems to redouble its efforts, the wind picking up until it seems to be snowing sideways for minutes at a time before calming into a normal downward fall again. 

“I think we made the right choice,” Yoongi murmurs, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the weather and Taehyung’s party, not about your past. 

“Mhm,” you nod, as you come back into the present. That’s a problem you have - you’re always looking back. “Imagine if we were just leaving now? What a mess. Thanks for taking me in, I guess.”

“You guess,” he repeats, rolling his eyes, but there’s no ire in it. 

You drink in silence a little longer, and then Yoongi rises with a sigh. “I’ll go put clean sheets on the bed,” he says, sort of absently, like he’s both talking to you and also just thinking out loud. “And then I’ll show you how to work the tv in there if you –”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed, Yoongi,” you tell him flatly. 

He balks. “I didn’t mean with me, I meant by yourself!”

“No, I know that,” you reassure him. “But I’m not letting you sleep on your own couch because of me. I’ll sleep out here. It’s fine.”

“Absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head vehemently. That long hair swishes. “You’re a guest. I’m not putting you on the couch.”

“Yoongi,” you say sternly. “If I know you’re out here on the couch and I’m in there with your whole friggin bed, I will simply not sleep because I will feel too guilty about it! And I would like to sleep. So, please, put your chivalry and hospitality aside, and let me sleep. Out here.”

He considers this, because he knows you, and he knows you’re telling the truth. “Fine,” he concedes, and disappears into what must be his bedroom. 

When he returns, he’s carrying a stack of what looks like linens. He sets down the pile and you spy blankets and pillows. He pushes the pillows aside gently and picks up something else, turning to hold it out to you, an offering. 

It’s gym shorts and a large tshirt, and you reach to take them without thinking. Once they’re in your hand, they feel suddenly heavy with meaning. You used to wear his clothes all the time - you might have one or two of his hoodies in the back of your closet at home because you love them and don’t want to get rid of them, even though you feel too weird to actually wear them. You’re not sure how you feel about wearing his clothes again, now that it means nothing. The alternatives are pretty undesirable, though, so you’ll have to grin and bear it.

“There’s a half-bath on the other side, through the kitchen,” he says, nodding towards the bathroom in question. “So you don’t have to feel weird walking through my room to the full bath if you don’t want to. Though... do you need to shower? I can get you towels and stuff –”

“Maybe in the morning?” you say, eyeing the clock on the wall. “Just… could I borrow face-soap? And toothpaste?”

You’ll have to make do without your make-up remover and an actual toothbrush. Finger-brushing it is. 

When you emerge from the bathroom, teeth freshly finger-brushed, wearing Yoongi’s clothes, he’s standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing out the wine glasses you’d used.

You brush past him silently, and start setting up the couch how you want it. You hear the sink turn off, the click of the lightswitch as he shuts off the lights behind him. He comes back through the room and pauses in his doorway.

“Do you need anything?” he asks. 

“No,” you say, feeling small in his baggy shirt, feeling small in the face of all the feelings you’re swimming in right now. “I’m all good.”

He looks at you for a long minute, searching. “Okay,” he says, finally. “Sleep well.”

He turns into his room, and you watch his skinny wrist turn as he reaches to shut the door.

“Yoongi,” you say, the word out of your mouth before you really know what will follow it. He pauses, peeks his head back into view, raises an eyebrow at you. “Thanks,” you say, meekly.

He nods, silent, then reaches to close his door, gently and effectively shutting you out.

You get comfortable on the couch, bunching the blanket up around your head how you like it. It takes almost no time at all to fall asleep, and when you do, you don’t dream.

You’re awakened sometime later by a noise, and you sit up, your brain scrambling to catch up to the present and figure out where you are.

A couch, it processes. It comes back to you a little at a time. Yoongi’s couch. Yoongi’s house. Yoongi’s house in town.

The noise that woke you must have been his bedroom door opening, because as you slowly get your bearings, you become aware of him staring at you from his doorway. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says apologetically, then moves across the room towards the kitchen. “I just needed water.” Then, from the kitchen, as an afterthought, he asks, “Do you want one?”

“Please,” you say immediately, mentally cataloging all the effects of dehydration you can feel. Cottony mouth, ringing ears, the tingling beginnings of a headache…

He returns to the living room and stops near the couch. You stretch to turn on one of the dim lamps, casting a quiet yellow on the room. He stands there in too-big pajamas and holds out a water bottle silently. 

It’s definitely still the middle of the night. You can’t have slept more than a few hours. Everything feels different, somehow. It was so awkward before; you’d felt the need to be cautious and hyper-polite. Now everything feels blurred, fuzzy with sleep, softer. You’re sitting up, the blanket you’d been sleeping under still over your lap. You reach over and lift the other side, holding it up like a question.

Yoongi pads over and sits on the far side of the couch, but he curls his legs up and slips his bare feet under the blanket. You let it fall, covering him from the shin down.

He taps on his phone and grimaces at the time. “Hey,” he says, a little wry, “Merry Christmas.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

He taps at his screen again and a speaker near his tv comes to life, playing what has to be a Coffee Shop Christmas playlist, pre-curated. You lean your head against the back of the couch, listening to the strum of acoustic guitar and the gentle snare of a drum meander through a mellow, lethargic version of It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.

“Christmas music, huh?” you tease, eyes closed. “That’s very holly, jolly of you.”

“I don’t hate Christmas,” he protests. “I’m not, like, a Grinch. It’s just… another day. So is tomorrow. Why all the fuss?”

You bump his foot with your knee beneath the blanket. “Scrooge.”

Ignoring your teasing, he looks sideways at you, something baleful on his face. “Y/N? I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

You’re surprised into silence, looking back at him across the couch. “What? What for?”

He grimaces, like the answer is too big, like he’s got an annotated list of every fault he’s mentally cataloged. “For all of it, I guess.”

You’re not letting him off the hook; this is too important to skirt around. “What are you sorry for, Yoongi?” you ask seriously.

He laughs once, quietly, incredulously, like he can’t believe you. “You really want to go there?”

“You know I do.”

He thinks before he speaks - one of your favorite things about him. “Because for the last five years, I hated myself for leaving you behind. And I wondered every day if you hated me for it, too.”

You sit in silence, feeling frozen. Yoongi lets you - Yoongi waits. Is he admitting regret? Does that mean he’d do it differently, given the chance?

Because here you are - being given the chance, in a way.

“I was never mad at you for going,” you tell him, because you know he needs to know. Yoongi doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, which means he really did wonder if you hated him. You don’t owe him much, but you figure you owe him this truth. Then you admit, “But I was mad at myself for… letting you. Did you… I mean, should I have argued? When you left?”

You’d always wondered. What would have happened if you’d fought just a little harder for him to stay?

He scoots a little closer, tugging the blanket closer to his knees, thinking about your question. “I think part of me had hoped you would… but it wouldn’t have changed my mind,” he tells you honestly.  “Just would’ve made it hurt more. The way things happened, I could lie and tell myself you were fine with letting me go.”

You exhale on a note of indignation. “Fine? That was you. You were so… okay with walking away.”

He shakes his head. He must have taken the bun out when he went to bed, and his hair swishes around his shoulders, loose and beautiful. “I wasn’t okay. I didn’t go a single day and not wonder… how you were. I didn’t go a single day sure that I made the right choice.”

You feel, weirdly, kind of pissed. “What am I supposed to do with that, Yoongi? Seriously?”

He opens his mouth to answer this rhetorical question, but you don’t let him. The words pour out of you, unleashed after five years of being held back.

“This is just… unfair. Because normally, in the movies, when you get this moment - the post-mortem - with someone from your past… they always ask why, right? Why’d you leave? But I don’t need to ask why - I know the why, I understood why. I want to know… I want to know if you regret it. If you’d take it back.”

“That’s two different questions,” he says solemnly, “with two different answers.”

You cut your eyes at him. It’s the middle of the night and your brain is mostly mush. You need him to just be forthcoming, just say things plainly.

He knows.

“Of course I regret it,” he whispers finally, as if the words hold too much weight to utter any louder. “I regretted it while I was still saying it. I hated being away from you, I hated not talking to you, I hated not knowing how you were or what you were doing or if you… still cared about me at all.” He pauses, inhales slowly, rubs a hand down his tired face, then exhales with a whoosh. “But would I take it back? I don’t know.”

You exhale, eyeing the ceiling. Who’s the one just saying shit now? God. “You can’t just say things like that, Yoongi,” you tell him, eyes trained on the shitty, popcorn ceiling above you.

He says your name, still so soft, so quiet. 

“What?”

“Don’t cry.”

It’s so stupid. You hadn’t cried then, not in front of him. You wipe hastily under your eyes. “Sorry,” you say hastily, trying to save face. “It’s the lack of sleep.”

“I’m not sure I would take it back,” he repeats carefully, and you realize he hadn’t been done before - you’d interrupted his thought, “because when I left… I knew the whole time that it didn’t make anything better. But if I hadn’t… I think I’d still be wondering if I should, if we’d be better apart. I wouldn’t know, so the question would still be hanging over me.”

You think he’s saying something without saying it, but it’s like four in the morning and you just aren’t sure. 

“But now?” you prod. 

He shrugs, like it’s so simple. “Now I know the answer.”

You want to shake him. You’ve never had a conversation go in circles like this in your life, and you need to get to the center of it. “Yoongi,” you say, your voice tight like a warning. 

He knows.

He always knows. He cuts to the chase. “I have a job lined up in the city.” 

You almost drop your water bottle. “My city?”

“Your city.”

“Yoongi,” you say again, pleading. “Just say what you mean.” Please.

He smiles your favorite of his smiles - only one half of his mouth lifts at first, cocky, until it spreads the rest of the way and shows his gums in all their glory. “Just thinking about that whole list of reasons we shouldn’t be together… null and void now, don’t you think?” 

You feel like you can’t breathe. You’ve both been circling it like predators, and now you’re closing in. 

“So what does that mean? For you?” Do you dare to ask it? You do. “For us?”

Someone else, you think, would probably have asked you, what do you want it to mean?

But it’s Yoongi - and Yoongi knows the answer already. 

He’s pushing the blanket off of his legs - and yours - and coming to hover over you. Your body responds, laying back against the pillow you’d been sleeping on, making room for him like it remembers exactly how you fit. Your fingers find his jaw like they’re magnetically drawn, your thumb sliding against his cheek. 

His hair falls around your faces like a curtain, blocking out the dim lamplight, as his mouth finds yours. 

Kissing him again is everything. It’s absolutely everything. He’s home, he’s wilderness, he’s calm, he’s the whole damn storm, he’s undoing every seam you have, he’s stitching you back together, he’s beautiful beautiful beautiful.

His lips are soft but sure against yours, his jaw moving under the press of your fingers. You feel like you’re flying, falling, maybe both, as your eyelids flutter. He’s bracing himself with his hands on either side of you, holding himself over you. You were resting your free hand against his side, his ribs like piano keys beneath your palm, and you find yourself bunching his shirt into your fist, trying to pull yourself up, closer, closer.

You have to will yourself not to babble against his mouth, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. You could say it six hundred times and it still wouldn’t get it all out of you. You pour it into the kiss instead, straining up to meet him, beating words away from your mouth as you toy with his bottom lip. 

He drops his lower body carefully, pinning your hips beneath his own, shifting to hold himself up on elbows instead of hands. The weight of him is welcome; something needs to keep you tethered to this planet. 

He licks into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours, and you inhale sharply against his mouth. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur against his lips, and he turns his head to kiss your palm where it’s been resting against his face. There’s something so tender about it that tears spring to your eyes, and you blink them away quickly. 

Then he’s leaning down to capture your mouth again, humming a low, happy note against you. You go for the hem of his shirt, pulling until it gets tangled against his armpits. He sits back on his haunches, helping you pull it over his head and tossing it somewhere behind you. Your eyes trace him, over and over, trying to remember every shade and every line, trying to find every difference from five years ago. He’s beautiful, flushing dark across the chest, eyes positively predatory in their focus on you.

“You, too,” he says, sounding a little breathless, and you scoot back and sit up. He goes for your hem before you can, tugging it up and over your head. The cold air assaults you and you shiver. Yoongi makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl in appreciation, lowering himself over you again. His kiss is insistent this time, one hand coming up to cup a breast, fingers deftly rolling your nipple, sending electricity skittering down your spine. You whine, deep in your throat, and you feel his lips quirk into a smile. 

“Would you kick my ass if I said ‘I’ve missed your tits’ right now?” he asks, chest quaking as he tries to rein in laughter. 

“Yes,” you grumble, reaching to weave your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. You tug him back so you can kiss him again, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan as you do. 

“Okay,” he says, in between kisses, “but I did.” Then he puts his money where his mouth is - or maybe vice-versa - to prove it, lowering his head and taking the other nipple in his mouth, flicking it lightly with his tongue. Your whole body reacts, feet stretching, back arching to push against his body, fingers tightening in his hair as you moan out loud. Each little motion of his mouth ignites sparks that reach every part of you - the pit of your stomach, the base of your spine, clear down to your toes. 

It’s honestly embarrassing how turned on you get as he continues, working one side until you’re writhing beneath him, thighs rubbing together desperately, then switching to continue his onslaught on the other side. 

“Yoongi,” you gasp, and some absent part of your brain is aware that his name is the only coherent word you’ve said in a while. “Please, you’re torturing me.”

He releases you with a wet pop, grinning up at you deviously. “So pretty when you beg like that,” he remarks, like he’s observing the weather - which is still a fucking blizzard, by the way. Then he’s coming up to kiss you again, deep and slow this time. His hand slides along your bare stomach, around and under your back, and you arch your back partly to make room for his arm underneath you, and partly because you can’t not, as his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

“Please, what?” he murmurs, lips close to your neck, his fingers tracing the edge of the shorts you’re wearing - his shorts. “What do you want?”

“Anything - whatever you’ll give me,” you manage. All you can focus on is his fingers, their circular path along your lower stomach, toying with your waistband. 

It must be the right answer, because he slips his hand into your shorts, fingers pressing along your slit, your underwear clinging to you already. He slides his fingers along the slickened fabric, eyes on your face, listening to the tiny moans that escape when you exhale. 

He shifts to his side, between you and the back of the couch, and you loop an arm around his neck - half to hold yourself up on the couch, and half because you need to be holding him. You can feel how hard he is now, as his body presses against your legs. He distracts you with a kiss, and slips your panties aside, wasting no time in sheathing his middle finger up to the last knuckle.

You hiss his name, your head lolling back against the couch in pleasure, your neck bared to him. He gives it a quick nip and then a kiss as he adds a second finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. You groan, the sound rumbling from your chest. You could let him do this all night if you had the patience - just this simple act feels so good you think you might come undone.

And if you remember anything about sex with Yoongi, he’s just getting started.

He slips his fingers out of you and brings them up to your clit, circling once, then twice, before going back to where he started, the pad of his middle finger circling your entrance, careful to stay just outside. 

Your whole body turns to jelly, everything quivering from head to toe at the sensation. You grip the couch with both hands, digging your fingers in. “Ohhh my god,” you manage, something accusatory in your tone, like you’re asking him how the fuck are you doing that? 

He smiles against you, middle finger still running in lazy circles through the wetness collecting there. “That’s right, I know what you like,” he murmurs, smug, his lips tickling your neck, before plunging both fingers back into your heat without warning. He repeats the cycle - in, out, up, down, around, around, in again - until you’re dizzy from it, your fingers clutching the fabric of the couch so hard that you’re sure you’ll rip it.

You have one single moment of clarity that sends you reaching down to where you can feel him hot and hard against your leg, but he shifts away, tutting.

“You first,” he says. “I want to see you make that face you make. It’s been literal years.”

“Oh my god,” you say, feeling yourself flush. “Yoongi! Seriously?”

He laughs, shoulders shaking. “What? I love to watch you lose your shit. What a fucking ego boost.” He punctuates these words with a quick change of wrist direction, suddenly pistoning against your front wall in a way that has your comeback melting right out of your brain.

He’d had you close before, and the sudden switch-up does the trick - you feel everything tighten from your shoulders to your toes, your eyes screwing shut. Yoongi shifts his weight to hold your leg in place so you can’t try to close them on him and redoubles his efforts, humming in pleasure as you squeeze around his fingers like a vice.

You let out a series of wordless cries as the pleasure builds to the point you want to shy away from it, and then Yoongi presses his thumb to your clit just so and you’re spiraling over the edge, your ears filled with a buzzing white noise, your toes curling, your desperate hands leaving the couch and clutching Yoongi instead, trusting him to guide you to the other side.

When you come down, heart hammering in your chest, you bat his hand away, breaths heaving.

“Take those off,” you pant, tugging on the bit of his pants you can reach, and shimmying your own bottoms the rest of the way off and dumping them onto the floor. 

“Bossy,” Yoongi remarks, smirking sideways at you as he obeys. 

You resituate yourself against the arm of the couch as he comes to kneel near your feet, stroking himself languidly. You both freeze with the same thought at the same time.

“Do I…” he says hesitantly, “do you want me to wear -?”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, mind racing for an answer. You’re tempted to just tell him it’s fine, because surely having a how many people have you been with in the five years since we broke up conversation will absolutely kill the mood right now. But that’s not really safe.

“Maybe you’d better?” you venture. “Have you -? I mean, we don’t need to talk about this right now. But I haven’t been with anyone without… you know.”

“Same here, and I got tested after… the last one. Just in case,” he admits, eyes on yours, and the moment feels heavy. Do you trust Yoongi to tell you the truth?

Of course you do. 

“I’m okay if you’re okay,” you tell him. “No pressure.”

“You’re still on -?” he checks, and you nod.

“In that case,” he says, and leans over you to kiss you again. You can feel him, rubbing along the messy slickness, and it occurs to you that you haven’t even touched him yet. 

You whine, twisting your shoulders to try and reach him with a hand, but he’s too impatient, lining himself up and starting to sink into you. You groan at the stretch - it’s been a while since your last fling - but the sound that tears through Yoongi’s throat is more like a growl, guttural and animalistic.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, as he slowly rocks into you until he bottoms out, his hips tight against yours.

He’s everywhere - caging you in, hovering above you, holding you down, filling you up. He’s everywhere, and he feels both so familiar it makes you want to cry again, and also - somehow - brand-fucking-new, like you’ve never felt him before. 

You can feel every ridge of him, every twitch, as he sets a slow but even pace, letting you adjust. 

“God,” you gasp when he hits a spot just right. His head had been hanging above you, his eyes watching the place where he disappeared inside you, all that long hair loose, but he smirks up at you at this.

“Good,” he coos, and picks up the pace, hips smacking yours, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin on skin, his grunts and your whines. 

You’re gasping a little at each stroke, that tight feeling bubbling at the pit of your stomach growing stronger with each thrust. “God,” you growl, fingertips pressing into his shoulder blade as you hang on for dear life. “Yoongi, fuck!”

He slows on purpose, straightening up, forcing you to release your hold on his back. He grins at you, that shit-eating, one-sided grin, and then grabs your ankles, maneuvering them both to rest against his right shoulder. He leans forward against your legs and hammers into you, breathing hard, and you swear to god you see stars for a second.

“Ohmygod, yes, there,” you gasp, hands going to the backs of your own thighs to help alleviate the stretch. You need to start doing yoga or something.

The build-up is slower this time, the feeling pulsing through you in waves that strengthen and ebb again. Yoongi can tell when it’s real by the change in your voice - wordless whines rising in pitch, by the arch of your back, by the way you clamp around him so hard that he almost loses it right there.

“Yeah?” he asks, the word more like a gasp for air. “Close?”

“Please,” you beg, the sensation of pure light racing up your legs to your toes, the pulsing starting slow and determined in your core. 

“I’ve got you,” he promises, brows furrowed with concentration as he works to keep a steady pace. He grips one of your ankles and switches it to his other shoulder, creating space to reach down and rub gentle figure-eights around your clit. 

The wave takes you over, and there’s a long moment where you’re completely devoid of your senses - no sight, no sound, nothing but how tight tight tight everything has gone, too tight to even breathe - and then it breaks and you can hear yourself wailing, eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. You clench around Yoongi hard, the aftershocks rolling through you, so hard that he hisses and drops his forehead to yours, his pace slowing significantly as he fucks you through it.

You go boneless as it leaves you, and Yoongi pushes all the way inside you and stills, pressing his lips to your temple.

“You good?” he murmurs, so sweet for someone who just had you experiencing the multiverse. 

“Mhm,” you manage to respond, so spent and tired that you can barely form the word.

“C’mere,” he grunts, slipping out of you, and he grips the back of your neck, hauling you upright and falling backwards in the same motion, pulling you over top of him. You loop your arms around his neck, feeling floaty, and he wraps his around your middle. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, his breath loud next to your ear.

“Can you keep going?” he checks. “I know you’re tired. I’m almost there, I promise.”

“M’good,” you assure him against his collarbone, and he gives you one quick squeeze before reaching down to adjust himself. He pushes in and you cry out, the sound muffled as you press your face into him. You’re so sensitive now, the sensation is entirely different. 

“You can take it,” he whispers, sliding a hand down your spine. Then, with a grunt of “shit,” he grabs you and jackhammers up into you, his fingers furrowing into the meat of your ass, so tight you think you’ll have five little bruises on each side when this is over.

You feel so close to him - your cheek presses up against his, your arms wrapped tight around him, his hands securing you in place, his heart beating wildly against yours where your chests press together. 

You gasp for breath into the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life, just trying to take what he gives you. You can hear his breathing change as he gets close, his pace quickening but his thrusts starting to come less evenly, his grip on your ass tightening just a bit further as he pulls your hips down to meet his every few thrusts. 

“Is inside okay?” he asks, the words sounding like they’re torn from him. 

“Yes,” you tell him, but it comes out more like a moan.

“God,” he grunts in response to this, and the word tears, ending on a strangled moan as he empties himself deep inside you. 

You lay there, gasping for breath, for a long minute. Then Yoongi gives you an affectionate pat on the ass, indicating that it’s safe to move.

“Go get in the shower,” he suggests. “I’ll grab you a towel and meet you in there.”

“I don’t know if I can get there,” you say, joking, but your legs feel like jelly. You grab your phone and make your way, wobbly, through the living room and into his bedroom.

You hadn’t come in here before. It’s clean, but sparse. It’s devoid of anything that makes it feel homey. It’s devoid of anything that makes it feel like Yoongi.

You keep going, padding through his room and towards the attached bathroom, fumbling for the lightswitch. You place your phone next to the sink and fiddle with the shower’s knobs until you get a steady stream of hot water going. 

It feels heavenly to step under the hot water, your aching muscles relaxing in the steam. But it feels even better when Yoongi wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“Hi,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” you giggle. You might still be riding a little bit of a post-orgasm high.

You both rinse off in silence, and then Yoongi places his hand on the knob, looking at you to make sure you’re ready to get out. You nod, but he hesitates.

“Will you sleep with me?” he asks, a little unsure, leagues different from the cocky man you’d been tangled up with mere minutes before. “Don’t go back to the couch.”

You give him a soft smile, and he turns off the water, reaching for the towels hanging just outside.

“Of course I will,” you tell him before wrapping yourself up in the soft, gray terry-cloth. 

You crawl into his bed once you’re dry, and he joins you after making a quick pass through the living room to turn the lights back off and gather up the clothes you’d both tossed around. When he clicks off his bedside lamp and rolls to face you, you feel a fluttering of nerves in your stomach. 

You’re not sure where you go from here. 

You lay facing each other in the darkness; it’s just too dark to really see much, but you can tell he’s looking at you. 

You’re laying there, letting your thoughts spool around you, the what-if’s and what-now’s laying themselves out in your mind, when you realize you’ve reached out without meaning to, your fingers tangling in his long hair, rolling strands between them. You keep playing with it, cautiously, practically holding your breath, waiting to see if he objects.

Instead, you feel him relax under your hand, letting out a long breath. “That feels nice,” he admits, voice breathy with almost-sleep and barely audible.

You fall asleep without any answers, with your fingers curled up in Yoongi’s hair. 

You wake up to a warm body behind you, not quite touching. You shift your cold toes a little closer to the warmth you find, smiling when you hear him whine about it. The light outside is white, that abnormal shade of light that comes from sunlight bouncing off of snow and ice. You’re about to close your eyes again when you realize that the warm body behind you isn’t sleeping, because you can hear the incriminating clicking and clacking of a keyboard.

“Are you seriously working right now?” you ask him, rolling a little to look at him over your shoulder. He peers back at you guiltily, his glasses low on his nose, fingers frozen in the air above the keys. 

“I just wanted to answer a few -”

“It’s Christmas morning!” you scold. 

“I’m aware of that,” he answers dryly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Turn it off, Yoongi. It’s Christmas and you are in bed with someone. My God.”

He shoots you a defensive look, but finishes whatever he was doing and clicks the laptop closed, leaning over to place it on his nightstand.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, a little fondly, sitting up a little next to him.

“Neither have you,” he says pointedly. It’s less fond when he says it. 

You consider this. “You want to know something stupid?” you ask. Yoongi doesn’t answer out loud, just meets your eyes and waits. “You’re right. I haven’t changed. I think… I think I’ve been afraid to.”

He turns to face you, sensing how serious you are about this. “What do you mean?” he presses. 

You stop to think, the way you learned to after spending years watching him, knowing he did this better than you. “I guess… some little part of me always wondered what would happen if we crossed paths again. If I changed too much… what if I stopped being someone you’d want? What if I became someone so different that your heart didn’t know mine anymore?” 

It sounds so corny coming out of your mouth, but the truth behind it is so heavy you can’t hold it up anymore. It was a fear you’d secretly harbored for half a decade - what if fate put Yoongi in your life again, and he still didn’t want you? 

And Yoongi does what he’s always done - hears you, understands you, answers you in your own language.

“Impossible,” he says softly, leaning closer to you, eyes combing your face. His voice is like a layer of snow, smooth and clear, full of something unnamable. Or maybe you don’t want to name it. You turn your head, as if that will get you further away. “That’s impossible. My heart will always know yours.”

You look at your hands, feeling a little choked up. Your heart stutters and jumps in your chest. The question you’re holding back churns in a little ball behind your ribs. 

“Hey,” he says, softly but intently. You manage to look up at him. “Let’s make breakfast?” He says it like a question.

“Yeah,” you say, able to speak again. “That sounds good.”

Yoongi lends you sweatpants, since it’s too chilly to roam around the house in basketball shorts, and busies himself in the kitchen while you get changed. When you finally join him, he’s plated something for each of you, and he pushes a glass of iced coffee towards you.

You can’t help but smile. “You remember,” you accuse, and he avoids your eyes, cheeks flushing. 

“You get a girl ninety-thousand iced coffees, it stays with you,” he defends.

“Ninety-thousand,” you scoff, but you’re pleased. As you eat, you look out the kitchen window. It’s bright outside, but it’s still snowing - tiny, wispy flakes floating leisurely down to join you. The road clearly hasn’t been plowed yet; the snow outside is untouched, unbothered, a perfect sheet of white. You can’t even tell where the road is, except for the mailbox poking up out of the feet of snow on the ground already.

Yoongi follows your gaze. “Looks like you’re trapped here for a while,” he observes. 

“A shame,” you deadpan, and he kicks at you playfully beneath the table.

“Well,” he says, thinking out loud, “since you won’t let me get any work done… do you want to put on a movie?”

“A Christmas movie?” you ask, perking up. 

He rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a little smile. “I guess that’d make sense,” he agrees. 

He leads you back to the couch, which you eye sideways, remembering clearly what this couch witnessed about three hours ago. Yoongi seems unphased, slouching sideways against some pillows and looking at you expectantly. You join him gingerly, leaning against him, and he drapes a blanket over your legs.

“Pick something,” he asks, passing you the remote - another old Yoongi trick that you remember well.

You take the offered remote, clicking through the holiday options for something that you don’t think will make Yoongi gag. As you scroll, brows furrowed in concentration, he clears his throat beside you.

“So, uh,” he says, and you stop scrolling, because he sounds nervous. “Next weekend I’m supposed to go look at some apartments. Do you… would you want to keep me company?”

You look at him, eyes wide, the remote forgotten in your hand, still aloft and pointed at the tv. 

“Why?” you whisper once you find your voice. 

He shrugs, wets his lips. “You know the city well,” he says. “You can offer your brilliant opinions - tell me if the neighborhood’s okay… if there’s good take-away… where the transit stops are, that kind of shit.”

“Hm,” you say, a little tightly.

He shoots you a sheepish grin. “I’ll take you to dinner after?”

You give him a look. “Say what you mean, Yoongi.”

He purses his lips a little, disgruntled at being called out. Then, busted, he sighs and tries again. “Can I take you to dinner next weekend? Preferably in the city, and preferably after you help me make some choices about my living situation?”

You grin, unable to hold it back. “Yeah,” you say, trying hard to fight back the smile, to play it even a little bit cool. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” Trying to save your dignity, you turn back to the tv and go back to scrolling until you find a movie that seems like it’s not too over-the-top. 

Yoongi reaches an arm around your shoulders, and this time you settle against him comfortably. You can feel him breathing beneath you, can smell that Yoongi smell - clean and alluring, can hear the shouts of some neighborhood kids running around outside. From the tv, tinkling bells and happy strings play a medley of Christmas songs as the opening credits run. 

Part of you is already thinking about when the roads are plowed and you have to go home, shower off the scent of him, update your best friend about all of this, miss Yoongi in a much more real way than you’ve had to in about three years. But at least you have the promise that you’ll see him again next weekend. You close your eyes, content, happy to just be right now. 

Yoongi feels it too, obviously. He gives your shoulders a squeeze, looks down at you fondly, and murmurs, “You know what? All this holly, jolly shit isn’t so bad.”

“God bless us, every one,” you deadpan. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

He grins at you, gums showing, and you smile back before leaning your head against his chest as on the TV a little girl watches out her window for signs of Santa.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!! My full masterlist can be found here :)

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Houses of the Holy | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: MNDI 18+ ONLY, canon violence, canon gore, SMUT, breast play, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl pls and thanks), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, clit spanking, descriptions of religious trauma (there’s a lot of talk of the two things you should never talk about in here: religion and politics)

Word Count: 5892

A/N: need i say it again, goodbye, minors!!! Be gone!!! please!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Every twenty or so minutes, you reloaded the FBI’s database you’d managed to tap into. You were getting incredibly anxious about Dean’s presence on their radar following the bank “robbery” the week prior. 

Sam went out to pose as a psychotherapy nurse to interrogate a woman whose personality seemed to have changed overnight after killing a man, claiming an angel led her to do so. You were placed on “Dean duty” after Sam insisted his brother stay here to avoid being seen. You were right on board with that idea, but you needed to stay behind to make sure Dean didn’t go stir crazy and leave stupidly.

A thousand thoughts swirled through your head as you wrote in your journal. 

“When I was on my own, I was a fucking expert at staying away from police,” you wrote. “Now, suddenly, I’m on cases with these two where every time I turn around, a cop is on my ass. I’m not super crazy about that idea. However, I don’t wanna leave them. They’re my best friends, and I know Dean is something more to me. I don’t wanna give that all up just because I’m starting to sweat a bit, y’know? 

“I am not one to shy away from trouble, and I’m loyal. Those are two qualities I’m super proud of,” you continued writing, “I just am worried. And I feel like that’s completely normal. But it’s a different kind of worry. I’ve never had to be concerned about two other people when I’m hunting. This is the first time I’ve had partners who are just as good as I am. And I’ve never cared about my partners this much. And in a way, that sucks.

“And what the hell was I thinking promising Sam that I’d kill him if necessary? Am I out of my fucking mind?? I don’t know what I’d do if Dean hated me. But I’d still rather him hate me than hate himself. I can go it alone again. I really could. I just don’t think I want to.”

You dropped your pen and scrubbed a hand over your face before pulling it through your hair. 

“Sweetheart. C’mere,” Dean groaned from the other end of the room. He was laying on a vibrating motel bed with his headphones in his ears. He’d been obsessively fueling the “Magic Fingers” machine with quarters. 

You headed over to him just as the bed stopped vibrating.

“Damn, that was my last quarter,” he huffed, taking his headphones out of his ears. He seemed not to notice you until that moment. “Oh, hey.” 

You sat on the bed next to him, and he was still laid out in the center of the bed on his back.”Whatcha need?”

“You,” he said, smirking.

You laughed as he pulled on the ends of your— his— shirt, trying to get you to lay on top of him. You happily complied, leaning forward to kiss him. Between kisses, you giggled, “Dee, we already fucked this morning. You’re seriously ready again?”

He hummed against your lips. “Always.”

You rolled your head away from him. “I have sex with you once, and suddenly, you’re insatiable.”

“I can’t help it,” he smirked. “You’re gorgeous.”

You faux-pouted. “That’s it?”

He rolled on top of you and kissed up your neck. “And smart.” He kissed you again, moving to your left cheek. “And badass.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “And sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I hate how much I need you.”

You mocked offense. “Why do you hate it?”

“ ‘Cause I don’t like to need anyone,” he replied. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I need you, too.” You leaned up to him and pecked his lips before leaning back down on the pillows. “And not just sexually,” you clarified.

He chuckled. “Same here,” he told you earnestly.

You grinned widely, pulling him back down to your lips by the nape of his neck. He eagerly bit your bottom lip before trailing his lips down your neck. He sucked a dark spot on your collarbone, making you tug his hair and moan. He groaned against your skin before hiking the shirt up your body, swirling his tongue around your nipples. Still sensitive from your activities earlier in the morning, your back immediately arched into him and you keened, encouraging him to keep going. He switched to your other breast and chuckled as you continued writhing underneath him. “Wonder if I could make you cum just like this,” he said, looking up at you. 

“Stop teasing, Dean,” you whined, shoving his shoulders down to your pussy.

“Hmm, but it’s so much fun,” he replied. Dean skimmed his fingers down to the band of your underwear, playing with the hem. You sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed beneath him. “Why would I do what you want when this is so much more enjoyable for me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Dean!” you cried out. “Please!”

“Fine,” he responded. The man above you pushed your panties down your legs before dipping his fingers into your cunt. “So wet for me already?”

“Fuck you,” you murmured in embarrassment.

He tsked. “Is that any way to talk to the guy who made you cum three times this morning?”

“It is if he’s being a fucking tease,” you replied, running your nails over his abs just above his V-line.

He groaned at your actions before grabbing your wrist and pinning it next to your head. “Now who’s being a tease?” Dean used one hand to pin your wrist above your head and the other to grab your other. He pinned them above your head, instructing you to keep them there.

He moved back down your body, stopping when he reached your core. He eagerly ate you out like a man starved, and your hands flew to his hair. He immediately stopped. 

“What’d I say?” he asked gruffly.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly, grabbing the headboard above you to keep your hands there.

He moved back to your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you grip the headboard tighter. “Fuck, Dean!” you cried out.

He curled two long fingers inside you, groaning at the slick pooling between your thighs. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as he hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers and continued harshly sucking your clit, every now and again swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, fuck, please, I’m gonna—” And then he was gone. “What the fuck?” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“You don’t get to come until I say,” he growled. “You understand?”

You nodded eagerly, still white-knuckling the headboard. You spread your legs wide, fully displaying your pussy to him. “Fuck me, Dean.”

His hand came harshly down on your clit. You yelped in surprise.

“You don’t make the demands here, I do.” He spanked your clit one more time for good measure before shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them in earnest, closing your eyes as you licked them clean. Dean groaned at the feeling and freed his fingers from your mouth, gripping your throat as he bent down to kiss you. 

Before you knew it, Dean’s cock was inside you, making you gasp into his mouth. He sheathed himself fully inside you, and you locked your legs around his hips. He rocked into you roughly, each thrust making you come more and more alight. 

“Can I touch you?” you breathed out. “Please?”

“Beg,” he replied, still keeping his thrusts even.

“Dean, please let me touch you. Please, please, I need to touch you,” you groveled through shallow breaths. 

“Hmm…” he smirked, rolling his hips into yours roughly. 

“Dean! Please! Please!” you cried, gasping. “I need to feel you, Dee.”

“Okay, sweetheart, you can,” he said.

You were on him in an instant, one hand in his hair and the other winding around the underside of his shoulders. You kissed your way down his neck and nipped at the base of it, careful not to leave any dark marks; even though you really wanted to. Dean’s pace began to falter as you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“Cum with me,” he instructed you. He reached down to your clit, drawing rough circles, before burying his face in your shoulder. “Cum with me, now, (Y/N).”

You came with a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing into you suddenly. Your legs locked around the base of Dean’s spine, keeping him inside you as he came. You moaned again at the feeling of his cum spilling inside you. His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out, causing you to whine at the loss. Dean laid on your bare chest, breathless. 

You took a few minutes to linger in this feeling which you decided was your version of heaven. No monsters, no fighting, no police run-ins— just Dean laying on your chest, breathing in time with you. However, you knew Sam would be coming back any minute now.

“Dean,” you said, trying to wiggle out from under him.

“Hm?”

“We gotta get up, Sam’s gonna be back soon.”

“Who cares.”

“Me!” you squealed as his grip tightened around you. “I don’t really want Sam to see my bare tits!”

He kissed between the valley of your breasts, nuzzling your left one with his cheek. “But I wanna keep lookin’ at ‘em.”

“Dean!”

“Alright, alright.” He finally let go of you, and you pulled your clothes back on. This time, you put your jeans and the shirt you wore before you and Dean fucked for the first time that morning to avoid Sam knowing what had been happening. You headed back over to your laptop, and reloaded the FBI’s database page.

“What is so important over there?” Dean asked, coming over to you. 

You turned your laptop to face him. 

“Seriously? You’re gonna drive yourself crazy lookin’ at that.”

“Well, sorry, but I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested,” you scoffed.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You looked away from your computer and back up to him with big doe eyes.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” Dean growled.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself if you don't,” he replied.

Despite your earlier activities, heat flooded once more between your thighs. “Dean—”

At that moment, Sam burst through the door. “Hey.”

Dean jerked away from you, and you awkwardly returned to the computer in front of you.

“So, did you get in to see that crazy hooker?” Dean questioned, scratching the back of his neck. 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy.”

“But she seriously believes that she was... touched by an angel?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace.”

You scoffed. “Definitely completely sane. What about the guy she stabbed?”

“Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil,” Sam explained. 

“Was he?” Dean asked.

The brunet shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer.”

Dean paced around, all-business mode. “Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, phew, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion. Know what I mean?”

“No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?” Sam countered.

“Well, little odd, yes, supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in.

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“ ‘Cause angels aren’t real,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N), there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted,” the younger brother reminded you.

“Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass,” Dean grunted.

Sam sat down across from you, deadpanning, “Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?”

“That's cute,” Dean monotoned, “I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under ‘bullcrap’.”

“And you've got angels on the bullcrap list.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’ve never seen one,” you chimed in.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “So what?”

“So I believe in what I can see,” Dean argued.

“Dean! You and I have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about.”

“Sam,” you started, trying to mollify both brothers. “I think that’s his point. We can actually see that stuff. Hard proof, y’know? We don’t have hard proof of angels.”

“This is a– a demon or a spirit,” Dean continued. “You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe.”

“Can we just— I'm going stir-crazy, guys. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?” Dean begged you and Sam. 

“I was just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF…” Sam trailed off.

“You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?” Dean deadpanned.

“But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway,” Sam huffed.

Dean perked up at that notion. “Could be something at his house; it's worth checking out.”

“I don’t love that idea, Dean. Please… stay here, okay? Sam and I can handle it,” you argued.

Dean groaned. “(Y/N), I’m going fucking crazy in here. Please?”

You crossed your arms. “No.”

He went to say something again.

“No. Sam, you’re on Dean duty. I’ll be back in a few hours,” you stated firmly.

“(Y/N)—”

“Dean,” you warned. “I’ll bring you back some beers, okay?”

He huffed. 

“I’ll throw a burger and some quarters in there, too, okay?” 

Dean huffed again, but said nothing in response. 

You tugged your boots on, and Sam tossed the keys to you.

“Not a scratch, (Y/N),” Dean told you firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

***

About two hours later, you returned with a six pack and burgers and fries for the boys. 

“Oh, (Y/N), thank god,” Sam exclaimed when you returned. 

“What, has he been that bad?” you asked. 

“I’m right here, y’know,’ Dean grumbled. “You bring any quarters?”

“Told you I would.” You chucked the roll of quarters and his car keys back at him. 

You put the six pack down on the table and began distributing the food between the brothers.

“Woman, you’re fucking awesome,” Dean groaned as he took a bite of his burger. 

Sam laughed. “So, what’d you find out?”

“Well, Mr. Gully had some pretty dark secrets,” you began. “I found three sets of bones buried under his house. Poor babies were kids from the local college who disappeared about a year ago. And get this; all of ‘em were last seen at the library.”

“Sick bastard,” Dean grunted. 

“So Gloria's angel—” Sam started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“Angel?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever this thing is…”

“Whatever it is, it's struck again,” Dean jumped back in through a mouthful of food.

“What?” you questioned.

“Dean hasn’t put down the police radio since you left,” Sam told you. “There was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart.”

“And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?” you asked.

“Yep. Roma Downey made him do it,” Dean quipped. He took a post-it note off the mirror. “Now, I, uh, got the victim's address.”

“Dean—”

“(Y/N), I am not staying here again. Just this one thing? Please?”

“No, Dee. I’m not taking that risk. You have got to lay low,” you insisted.

“(Y/N), how are you gonna stop me from doing my job?”

“Because if it involves putting yourself at risk, then it’s not happening,” you protested. 

“My whole job is risk,” he argued, stepping closer to you. “There’s just… an added level now.”

“Exactly. Which means we have to be that much more careful. Especially considering we have the feds on our ass. I’m not letting this happen,” you shot back.

“Hate to say it, Dean, I think (Y/N)’s right,” Sam jumped in. “I’ll go check out the vic’s house. (Y/N), stay here.”

“Fine by me,” you said. 

Dean grunted in aggravation, and flopped down on the bed after putting a few quarters in the Magic Fingers machine. You knew he’d probably stay angry with you for the rest of the evening. 

After a few minutes of silence and when the rumbling came to an end, you spoke up again. “Dean,” you sighed. “I’m not trying to be a huge ass, okay? I’d be angry with me, too. But this is just… It’s a lot. And I’m trying to keep you boys as safe as possible. And I wanna help Sam with this case, but I can’t if I’m worried about you not staying put, okay?”

Dean didn’t respond, and you thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep. At least, that was until you heard him murmur, “Okay.”

*** Sam informed you and Dean that the most recent victim had been planning to meet with a thirteen-year-old girl. Your stomach turned when he told you, and Dean looked like he would’ve kicked the guy to hell and back given the opportunity. Sam also told you that both victims went to the same church called “Our Lady of the Angels.”

“That’s funny,” you’d commented. 

Following last night’s conversation with Dean, you felt more comfortable leaving him to his own devices. And so, it was up to you and Sam to go talk to the priests at said church.

“So you're interested in joining the parish?” the priest, who’d introduced himself as Father Reynolds, asked you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Where'd you say you lived before?”

“Fremont, Texas,” you said without missing a beat.

“Really? That's a nice town,” Fr. Reynolds noted. “St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there.”

“Yes, sir. He’s wonderful,” you nodded.

“You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father,” Sam broke in.

“And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here.”

“Hey, listen, I gotta ask,” you began hesitantly. “No offense, but uh, the neighborhood?”

Fr. Reynolds sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off.”

“Yeah, we, uh, heard about the murders,” you acknowledged.

“Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years.”

Sam quirked his head to the side. “And the killers said that an angel made them do that?”

“Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic,” the priest sighed. 

“So you don't believe in the whole ‘angel’ thing?” you questioned. 

“Oh, no, I absolutely believe,” he chuckled. “Kind of goes with the job description.”

Sam nodded toward the painting on the wall. “Father, that's Michael, right?”

“That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil.”

“So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?” 

“Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. ‘An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified’,” the priest finished.

You nodded sagely. “Luke two nine.”

The priest seemed surprised you knew that. “Yes, actually.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “My, uh, my mom was a pretty zealous Catholic,” you explained as Fr. Reynolds began leading you out of the door. “She’d quiz me on the bible verses every now and again.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes on you while you began heading down the steps of the church. 

“Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father,” the brunet said. 

“Oh, it's my pleasure. Hope to see you again,” the priest nodded.

You noticed a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps; candles, flowers, pictures, and rosaries. “Hey, Father, what's, what’s all that for?”

Fr. Reynolds deflated a bit. “Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here.”

“Was?” you questioned.

“He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt,” he explained.

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you told him.

“Yeah, me too.” The priest couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from his friend’s memorial. “He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out.”

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose,” he replied.

“Thanks, Father. We’ll see you around sometime,” you nodded solemnly. He headed back inside.

“Well, it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there,” you noted.

Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable.

“And he knew all the vics, because they went to church here,” you continued. “In fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew. Reconciliation and all that jazz.”

“Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening?” Sam countered.

“Sam,” you sighed. “I know you wanna believe, but I’m not really sold on this whole ‘angel’ idea. Why do you seem so convinced?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But I do know that I pray. Every single day. I have for a long time.”

You startled a bit. “Really? I had no idea.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What made you stop?”

“Well, like I said, my mom was always a bit of a zealot,” you began. “And… let’s just say I saw how well prayin’ worked out for her.” 

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look. 

“C’mon, let’s go check out Fr. Gregory’s grave.”

Sam followed you down to the crypt. It was a bit of a maze of stone hallways lined with numerous stone angel statues. You headed a little ahead of Sam deeper into the crypt. You turned back when you noticed Sam wasn’t behind you, and then suddenly felt the ground beneath you shaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured before running to where you thought Sam may be. “Sammy?” you called. “Get the rocksalt out—” You halted momentarily when you noticed Sam’s slumped over form on the ground. “Hey! Sam! Wake up!” you cried, grabbing his face in both your hands. He jerked awake as soon as you touched him. “You okay?!” you asked worriedly.

He looked past you at the angel statue behind you. “Yeah. Yeah. 'm okay.” He seemed a little startled.

You helped him to his feet and led him into the sanctuary. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, (Y/N), I saw an angel,” he said.

“You—” You shook your head, unsure how to approach this situation. “So. What makes you think you saw an, uh, angel?”

“It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace,” he explained.

You swallowed harshly, feeling suddenly unsettled. “Wh—” You laughed uncomfortably.

“I know this is a lot, but I’m telling you, it spoke to me. It knew who I was,” he said.

You shook your head. “Spirits can do that, though, y’know that, right?”

Sam didn’t seem convinced. 

“Okay, let me guess,” you tried. “You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam nodded.

“Great. I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?”

“Actually I did, (Y/N). And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will,” Sam nodded.

You started pacing. “I don’t believe this.”

“(Y/N), the angel hasn’t been wrong yet!” Sam protested. “Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!”

You scoffed. “You’re supposed to do something awful, too. Does that mean I’m just supposed to nuke you right now?”

“Y’know what? I don't understand! Why can't you and Dean even consider the possibility?”

“What, that this is an angel?”

“Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!”

“Y’know what, Sam, if that’s what you believe, fine,” you sighed. “If faith is what helps you sleep at night and brings you a little peace, then, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But I cannot rationalize worshiping a god who’s gonna condemn me to a pit of fire and suffering for the simple fact of non-belief. I mean, think about it, man. He knows exactly what it would take to get every person to believe, and he still chooses not to show it to us.” You began to pace faster. “And, and? Why would homosexuality be the thing he chooses to put his foot down on? And if you are this great and good god, why is that love wrong? And if people believe in other religions, why does that mean they’re going to hell? What if they’re Buddhist and an exceptional person; they still have to go to hell? Hindu? I don’t fucking get it, Sam. And if my options are going to heaven with all the churchgoers— who are mostly hypocrites and these fuck-os who are abusing kids and murdering on Tuesday after just leaving church the Sunday before, then send me straight on down to hell. I’ll take eternity with actually decent people over these yuppies and troglodytes any day.” You stopped, taking a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Sam seemed shocked. “It’s okay,” he said, despite himself. 

You huffed, scratching the back of your head. “Anyway, I got some hard proof we’re dealing with a spirit.” You led him over to Father Gregory’s grave. It was crawling with mangled vines, and you crouched down in front of it. 

“That looks like—”

You cut Sam off. “Wormwood. Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Maybe?”

“I don't know what to think,” he said honestly.

You sighed. “Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“We'll summon Gregory's spirit,” you responded simply.

“What? Here? In the church?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just need a few odds and ends and my journal for a séance ritual.”

“Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available,” Sam quipped.

You deadpanned at him, “Cute. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest.”

“But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then we’ll know for sure. And then I can grovel in front of Michael or Zachariah or Castiel or whichever the hell angel it is and beg for their forgiveness before they smite me.”

“The hell kind of angel’s named Castiel?” Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Angel of temperance and serenity. Not traditional Catholicism, but I digress. I told you, my mom was a complete Jesus-freak,” you snorted. “Alright, let’s go get my journal. Hopefully Dean’s still there. I swear to god, I’ll send him to hell and back if he’s not.” *** Thankfully for Dean, he was right where you’d left him. He looked bored out of his skull, but he actually listened to you. “Jesus, how fuckin’ long does it take to talk to a priest?” 

“Not right now, Dean. Sam’s a little, uh, possessed? Cursed? Don’t know what the right word is in this situation. Divinely inspired?” you continued.

“What? He saw it?”

Sam nodded.

“We don’t have time to rehash all this. Now, Dean, you comin’ or not?” You turned to the elder brother.

“Wait, you’re letting me out?”

You scoffed. “Dean, you’re not a hostage. C’mon. We could use the help especially now that Sam’s been angel-drugged.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“Sam got touched by an angel,” he snickered.

You burst out in laughter, and Sam just deadpanned.

***

Your next stop was a small grocery store that you hoped didn’t have security cameras that would be able to identify Dean. Sam bounded out of the store holding a paper sack and chuckling. “Guys. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?”

“We'll just put it Spongebob-side down,” Dean shrugged.

Sam’s laughter subsided suddenly as he stared at someone across the street. 

“What is it?” you asked him.

“It’s him,” he replied. “That's the sign!”

“Where?” Dean questioned.

“Right there, right behind that guy! That's him, Dean. And we have to stop him,” Sam pleaded.

Sam started after him, but you and Dean held the giant man back.

“Wait a second,” you stated. 

“What are you doing? Let me go,” Sam grunted.

“You're not going to go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?” Dean hissed.

“Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him.”

“Define ‘stop’, huh? I mean, what are you going to do?” Dean pressed.

“Dean, please, he's going to hurt someone, you know it.”

“Alright, come on,” Dean said finally. You moved to the other side of the car, and Dean quickly shoved you down into the backseat. 

“Dean. Unlock my door,” Sam commanded, still standing on the sidewalk.

“You're not killing anyone, Sam. (Y/N) and I got this guy, you go do the séance,” he nodded.

“Dean!” Sam called after you, but Dean was already pulling away. He followed the man who’d been holding the yellow flowers down a short distance down the street before the guy stopped in front of a girl. She got in the car with him, and your heart sank as you climbed into the front seat.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you murmured.

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean gripped the wheel tightly and started trailing the blue car again. 

The allegedly evil man soon turned down a dark alley, and you temporarily lost sight of him. Dean cursed, “Dammit!” and slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

“Dean, Dean, follow him, c’mon,” you begged, and he slammed his foot on the gas, turning down the alley he thought he’d seen the man head down. Thankfully, his guess was correct, and you and Dean quickly ran to opposite sides of the man’s car. You could hear the young woman crying and the man shouting at her as you approached. Dean punched the window, and you took that as your opportunity to quickly pull the girl out of the car. 

“Are you okay?” you asked her, grabbing her shoulders.

“Thank god!” she cried, surging forward to hug you.

You called to Dean as the man sped off in his blue car. “Dean! I got her, you follow him! I’ll catch up with you later!”

Dean nodded, sprinting back to the Impala and following the man out of the alley.

“Did he do anything to you?” you asked her.

She shook her head, still crying.

“Do you have any friends nearby? I’ll walk you to ‘em,” you told her. 

The woman nodded. “Yeah, um, my friend—” she hiccuped, “my friend Sarah lives around here.”

“Okay, can you call Sarah? Let her know you’re on your way?”

She nodded again, and you rubbed her back with your hand to soothe her while you started walking toward her friend’s apartment.

You got to know her as you walked to help her calm down and distract her from what had just happened. Her tears slowly subsided, and you seemed to have calmed her down by the time you arrived at her friend’s apartment complex. She hugged you tightly after announcing the two of you had made it. 

“Thank you so much,” she told you. 

“Anytime,” you told her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She nodded and headed up the front steps. She turned to you when she reached the door, waving goodbye one last time.

***

You somehow managed to get back to the motel. Surprisingly, Sarah’s apartment hadn’t been too far from it. You only needed to walk about thirty minutes before you stumbled upon it. 

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door to the Winchesters’ room. Both Dean and Sam were packing. “How’s everybody doin?”

Sam looked demoralized. “You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory. I don't know, guys, I just, uh—” he sat down on the bed. “I wanted to believe… so badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And there's so much evil out there in the world, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up—”

Dean sat next to him. “Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you.”

The brunet smiled. “Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe what?” you asked.

“Maybe I could be saved.” He suddenly realized what he admitted and chuckled nervously. “But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes.”

“Yeah, well, it's funny you say that,” Dean said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news. We barely got there in time.”

“What happened to him?” you questioned.

“He's dead.”

“Did… Did you?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No. But I'll tell you one thing. If— The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean— I don't know what to call it.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What? Dean, what did you see?” 

“Maybe… God's will.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[latenightdaydreams]

I'm so desperate for Boxer Konig and reader. I imagine it would be like König fights every night for living in the ring and reader is bartender in that place, like it has a bar counter for drinks. Reader is his favorite bartender. ❤️❤️

Imagine being able to go to work and see him sweaty and shirtless everyday🤭💖

Boxer!König x Bartender (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral, public sex

2.2k

🥊

.

.

König watches you set up the bar out of the corner of his eye as he talks to his trainer, Horangi, before the fight. His eyes drift over how your black shirt hugs the curve of your breasts. The jeans you wore today shows off your stunning shape. Everything his trainer was saying fell on deaf ears. He already knows everything. He’s undefeated. Right now, he just wants to focus on you. How can you look so tantalizing when simply pouring buckets of ice?

“König.” Horangi snaps his fingers in his face. “Are you listening to me?”

“Ja, ja. I know it all already.”

Horangi shakes his head at König’s cocky attitude. His eyes follow König’s gaze landing on you, giving you a quick up down before turning back. “Focus.” His hand on König’s shoulder, he leads him away to the back to get ready.

As you turn your head, you watch König’s eyes drift from your form to the ground as he gets guided away. A small smirk crosses your lips. You always catch him checking you out, but he makes no moves.

The day goes on and people flood the arena and fill seats. A line begins to form as you and your fellow bartender work in sync to make sure all patrons' orders get filled. As you bend down to grab a bottle of grenadine, you hear König being announced in the ring. Quickly, you perk up and watch as König walks out in his boxer shorts with the Austrian flag on them. His opponent being a 6 '4 Russian man, while he’s massive, he’s no match for König.

König’s eyes land on you as you smile brightly at a man accepting a drink from your delicate hands. He shifts his gaze to his opponent as people in the crowd cheer for both men. König gazes down at him with his icy blue stare and a stoic face.

From behind the bar, your eyes drift down König’s muscular body, which is sporadically littered with scars. You watch the fight begin as you continue to pass out drinks and chat with patrons. When König takes a hard hit, you watch with a worried look, glancing away and focusing on the man before you asking for another beer.

At the end of the fight, König’s arm rises to celebrate another win. The crowd cheers loudly, the losers coming to the bar to close tabs or get stronger drinks. König stands on stage posing for the crowd with two ring girls on their side of him. He respectfully keeps his hands to himself, his eyes finding you at the bar. For a split second in time, you meet his gaze and he smiles at you. The smile you give back sets a fire within him. When he hears his name being called, he looks forward, stepping into another pose with the women before exiting the ring.

As the night winds down, you begin to clean the bar and restock for tomorrow. The girl you work with heading out early since she has a family to tend to. As your back is turned from the bar you can hear someone lean against the counter. You turn, expecting to see one of the lingering patrons, but instead it’s König. He’s wearing a black shirt with his boxer shorts still, a fresh bruise on his left cheek bone.

“Hey König.”

“Hallo.” He shamelessly drops his gaze down to your breasts before looking back into your eyes. He combs his fingers through his messy blonde hair.

“Congratulations on the fight.”

“Danke.” König leans into the counter more, eyeing you. “How was your night? It looked pretty busy over here.”  He has no idea how to flirt with you, he’s used to being cocky and the women tossing themselves at him. For some reason, you always make him nervous.

“Yeah, it was a good night for tips.” You smile and rest your palms on the counter top. “So, what can I get for you?”

“How about a celebratory shot?” He smirks.

“Coming right up.” You turn and grab the whisky you know he likes, pouring a shot for him before sliding it across to him.

You watch his Adam's apple bob as he takes the shot. His large hands wrap around the tiny glass making it appear much smaller. Once he places the glass back down, he turns his attention back to you.

“I saw you watching me.” He says in a semi flirty tone, testing the waters. “Did you enjoy the fight?”

“I did. It’s always exciting to watch you win.” You stroke his ego.

König smiles hearing your words. He watches as your turn to continue shutting down the bar. He knows every night you get hot water to melt the remaining ice so he stands, preparing to help you with the heavy bucket of water. Without asking, he grabs the bucket from your hand gently; his rough skin caressing yours slightly.

“I’ve got the water.” He says simply before walking off to fill it in the kitchen area.

“Oh, thank you.” As you watch him walk away you stand there suppressing a giddy smile. You turn and continue to clean the area.

König walks back with the bucket full of steaming hot water and carefully walks past you with it. He lifts it so effortlessly, pouring it over the remaining ice. Your eyes focus on the way his burly arms flex ever so slightly. He can definitely feel your stare, turning his head to see you looking at him.

You quickly look away feeling ashamed for getting caught looking. Trying to distract from the tension you walk away to the storage room to grab things needed to restock the bar for tomorrow’s fight. König’s eyes follow you as you walk away. He puts down the bucket and follows behind you.

The door closes behind you when you step into the room. You grab the step stool and walk to where the little toothpicks are stored. As you step up, you hear the door open and close. Before you can even turn around you feel his hands wrap around your waist.

“Now you’re closer to my height.” König whispers. On the step stool you come up to his chin now versus before you only reached his chest. Without getting you off balance, he leans you back so your back is pressed against his chest.

“König.” You giggle saying his name, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush as his arms embrace you.

“What?” König chuckles, enjoying the sound of your giggle. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and smells your sweat from a long day of working the bar.

A shiver runs down your spine and goosebumps rise on your skin as he presses his lips against your neck; his lips moist and tender against your flesh. Slowly, he moves his under your shirt, caressing your stomach and moving up until his hand cups your breasts through your bra. His kisses turn steamier as he gropes you.

“Do you know how distracting you are? You make it impossible to focus on my fights when all I can think of is touching your body like this.” His voice is dripping with a primal desire for your body.

König turns you around to face him, his hand slipping out from your shirt and holding your waist. His other hand caresses the side of your face, cupping it in his hand. “Beautiful.” He leans in and kisses your lips. A spark ignites throughout his whole body as he finally tastes your sweet lips.

Your hands rest on his muscular chest, eyes closed as you allow yourself to melt into the romantic embrace with König. His hand on your waist dropping down to your hip, pressing you closer to him so you can feel his erection.

“You drive me crazy, Schatzi. Do you want me?” His voice deeper as he leans back in to claim your lips in a sensual kiss.

“Mhm, yes.” You manage to mumble out.

König’s fingers reach down and begin to undo your pants. A wave of excitement rushes through your body but also a bit of nervousness. Public sex isn’t something you’ve ever done nor considered, especially not at your place of work. Yet, you don’t protest, letting him pull your pants down. Once they are around your thighs, his fingers instantly find your clit through the fabric of your underwear, making small circles to pull moans from you.

As he breaks the kiss he looks down at your face as you writhe in pleasure before him. His sleepy blue eyes glance down at your face, taking in how he is turning you into a puddle before him. The fabric of your panties damp, stirring a deep desire within him.

König wraps his arms around you, lifting you and walking you to press you up against a wall. He drops to his knees before you and pulls your pants down completely. Lifting one of your legs, he rests it over his shoulder. His lips press kisses over your clothed cunt, licking the wet spot and getting a taste of you. A quiet moan flees your lips, your eyes gazing down at him.

“You smell so… suß.” König says looking up at you.

A light heat spreads across your face, you’ve been busy on your feet so you know that the scent of your body wash has worn off. He just likes the way your naturally sweaty cunt smells, and for some reason that really turns you on.

The adrenaline for the fight mixes with the aroma wafting from your body, König becomes greedy and he just needs you. He pulls the wet fabric aside and swipes his tongue across your glistening folds, savoring the taste.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hold back anymore.” König quickly stands, his hands dropping his shorts quickly. His eyes dart around the room trying to figure out the best way to do this. His eyes look over your body for a moment. “Take them off.” He points to your underwear and you comply.

In a hurry, König grabs your wrist and pulls you to him. Your shirt is pulled off your body, tossed to the side as König looks at your full breasts in your black bra. He effortlessly lifts you, your legs resting in the crook of his arms. As he holds you, pressing your back against the wall, he takes his time to kiss your cleavage and admire just how gorgeous you truly are.

You can feel his cock lingering at the entrance of your vagina, slightly pressing in as he kisses and bites all over your breasts. He slowly inches forward with his hips until he can feel your welcoming warmth wrap around the tip of his cock. His low groan is met with your light moan. Your walls hug him tightly, fluttering as they adjust to his size.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re fucking…tight.” The word ‘tight’ comes out in a growl.

With your legs on his arms, he rests his hands on your back, hips slowly thrusting forward into you. His lips explore your tender flesh up to your mouth. He places soft kisses on your lips while mumbling sweet words to you in German that you don’t understand.

“Pull your bra down.” He demands as he watches your hands pull your breasts out of your bra. The fabric squeezes them together as they bounce lightly with each thrust.

He steps away from the wall and moves his hands down to your ass. His muscles flex as he bounces you on his cock. The feeling of your gummy cunt sending him into a trance like state, his eyes following the way your supple flesh ripples with every harsh thrust.

“König!” You moan out, almost yelling. His thick cock slams into you without mercy, fucking you senseless. Your nails dig into his arms as your eyes flutter back. “Please…”

König watches your face now, taking in every detail and savoring every sound. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well. Diese Muschi ist perfekt.”

“Yes.” You gasp out. “Please fuck me, König.”

“Das ist es, Baby.”

His blue eyes are now black from dilation. Hearing you beg for him triggered a primal instinct in him. You’re his. This is his pussy. He slams you down on his cock, making sure to stuff you with every single inch.

Horangi walks throughout the gym looking for König, he’s nowhere to be found. He walks out to the ring to see if maybe he went back out to just sit, still not there. As he glances around, he can hear a slapping sound in the distance, curious, he follows it.

The sound begins to mix with moans and loud dirty talk in German. König is fucking that bartender. Horangi runs his hand over his face and lets out a deep annoyed sigh. Now isn’t the time for König to become infatuated with this woman even further, which he knows he will be. Horangi stands there and listens to König’s whimpers and your borderline screaming. He decides to just walk away and let König finish, he will talk to him about this later.

[jenniferjareauwife]

hi hi i love ur writing sm😇do you think we could get an imagine where jj and r have an established relationship, and somebody (an officer wherever they are for the case or smth) is flirting with r but she’s oblivious, and jj gets a little anxious. then r has to reassure jj, and maybe you could add just a smidge of angst before that and have jj ignore r and r doesn’t realise why until jj brings it up. also if you’re comfortable w it you could add some smut at the end, preferably w some body worship (jj receiving) thank you sm🙏🏻🙏🏻

He Was Flirting?

pairing: jennifer jareau x reader

category: slight angst, smut

warnings: smut, scissoring r & jj, body worship jj, switch jj & r

word count: 988

summary: you're on a case and an officer is flirting with you, your girlfriend notices but you don't when leads to the silent treatment and some sexy time 😏

JJ, Officer Hicks and I walked through Boston's Back Bay, observing the nearest crime scene. The victims all had y/h/c hair and y/e/c eyes, same height and my age exactly. It kind of freaked me out a little bit but I knew I wasn't in trouble. No one would mess with an FBI Agent and anyone who knew Ms. Jennifer Jareau would not want to mess with her girlfriend.

"Pretty girls like you better stay safe around here." Officer Hicks said, both hands on his waist as he looked at me with a small smile. I just gave him a small nod, feeling a bit creeped out about the crime scene.

We got back to the station 20 minutes later and I went to the break room for a coffee, hoping to spend some time with JJ after this tiring day. I walked up to her to go talk to her but as soon as I opened my mouth she pushed past me and walked away. Oh. That sting a bit. I turned around to follow her but was stopped by Hicks when he walked into the break room. "Hey hon." He said with his lopsided smile.

"Hi." I looked over his shoulder at JJ who looked completely pissed off. "Hey do you um-"

"You should smile more. It looks good on you." I nodded. I didn't really smile a lot and it was something my friends always told me to do so I took it lightheartedly.

"Thanks." I froze as JJ and I made eye contact. She looked like she was seething with anger. I turned to Hicks and gave him a smile, trying not to to look anxious.

"Sorry to interrupt. Agent Y/l/n and I have to get going." She grabbed my hand with an iron grip. "Come on babe let's go." She kissed me passionately on the lips, making Hicks's jaw drop. Once she pulled away I was left speechless, feeling a familiar heat burn in my lower belly.

"Yeah...yeah let's go." I agreed, letting her drag me out of the station.

Once we got back to the hotel room she was all over me. Her hands were on my ass and her lips were attacking my neck, leaving hickeys and marks everywhere she could reach. "Jayje...JJ." I pushed her away slightly, wanting to see her face. She looked down at me with lustful eyes while gnawing on her bottom lip. "I wanna see you."

"You've gotta earn it after flirting with Hicks sweetheart." She pushed me down onto the bed, making me whine.

"What...what? I wasn't flirting...was that flirting?" I was panicking right now, was she mad at me?

"That was most definitely flirting." Her eyes had a hard look to them again. "Don't try to get yourself out of this."

"I'm not trying to get out of anything just please...please." I tugged at the collar of her shirt, wanting to kiss her all over. "JJ please." I pulled her down on top of me and pulled off her shirt quickly so she couldn't protest. My eyes widened once I saw the swells of her breasts. She didn't protest when I unclasped her bra so I took that as a sign to flip her over, kissing ever inch of her skin that I could reach.

I cupped her breasts in my hands and moaned against her skin as I started to rock against hers, our clits bumping against each other. "JJ...JJ fuck you're so pretty." I couldn't get enough of her, just wanting her to know how pretty she was. I looked up at her though my lustful eyes and saw her blush. "I love you so much. You're so pretty- fuck." My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my hips bucked forward.

"You look so hot on top of me like this." She said with a soft laugh, reminding me of her dominance over me. I kept grinding against her and leaving kisses all over her body. She deserved it, she was so beautiful.

She gripped my waist in a bruising grip so I kept my pace. I could tell she was reaching her high, the way her muscles twitched under my lips. I could get off on her cumming, she just looked so fucking hot while doing it and I never hesitated to tell her that. "Fuck...fuck JJ I'm gonna cum."

"Me too baby." She held me close to her as I left sloppy kisses over her breasts. I kept my body as close to hers as possible, just wanting her to feel how much I loved her. "Y/n...y/n I'm coming!" I lifted my head up so I could kiss her as she rode out her orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I climaxed, kissing all over her face and neck, not caring where I kissed just caring that I was kissing her.

"I love you I love you I love you." I chanted, pulling away once I got too sensitive. I left sloppy kisses along her jaw before dropping my head to her shoulder.

"You ok?" She panted, dragging her fingertips over my back. I gave her a small nod and snuggled up close to her.

"I'm sorry for flirting with him...I didn't know." I whispered, tracing shapes on her belly. I felt her inhale and exhale sharply, trying to get the air back in her lungs. "I really love you...and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize...I'm sorry for getting jealous. You weren't even flirting, it was just him."

"I didn't like the silent treatment." I told her quietly. I felt her chest cave in a bit.

"I'm sorry honey. I won't do it again, ok? I really should've communicated with you better. I'm really sorry."

"It's ok." I kissed her stomach. "I love you so much." I mumbled against her skin thinking maybe she would absorb it. It was silly but I wanted her to know how loved she was.

"I love you more baby."

[themorriganwitch]

Three are never too much

Summary: Bradley agrees to take part in Jakes Fantasy of being watched as he fucks his wife.

Words: 3k

Warnings: pure smut MDNI!! voyeurism, bit of daddy kink, spanking, oral (f! receiving), tiny bit of Hangster tension, masturbation (f! and m!), dirty talk,

A/N: comments and rebloggs are always deeply appreciated

_________________________________________________________

“Are you one hundred percent sure, that you want to do this?”, Jake asks you for the fifth time in the last 20 minutes. “I can still call him and cancel that whole thing, I never want to put you in a- “, you cut him off. 

“Baby we talked about this a million times. I am absolutely down, and I know that as soon as I feel uncomfortable, you would kick Bradley out before he could say “mustache”, you smile at your husband encouragingly. 

“Try to relax a little bit, remember you wanted to put on your best show for Rooster”. 

Jake scoffs.

“Honey we both know that I never have to put on a show”, he exaggerates the last word scathingly.

You roll your eyes amused but right before you could joke about how offended he was by a simple word, the doorbell rings.

“Take it easy, Jake. Just go on as we said, you open the door while I go upstairs and get ready. And then the three of us will meet in our bedroom and have some fun, okay?”, you ask reassuringly. 

He nods before he presses a short peck onto your lips and made his way to the door, while you went upstairs into the bathroom. 

You grab your new set of lingerie, a beautiful green one which left barely anything so someone’s imagination and put it on in front of your full-length mirror. After you admired yourself for a few seconds, you sit down on the edge of your bathtub, trying to control your breath a little. 

The whole thing has been Jakes idea: having someone over who watches the two of you while Jake rails you into the mattress. But after he brought it up you were fully into it and supported his wish. 

Knowing how easily possessive he could get over you, you let him decide who would be the lucky one to take part in his fantasy. You fully trusted him with this process and when he brought up Bradley Bradshaw, it barely took you more than 30 seconds to agree to his suggestion. 

Today the big day finally arrived and even though you could feel yourself getting a bit nervous, you were just as excited and turned on if not even more. 

As you could hear your husband and his best friend coming upstairs and into your bedroom, you took a last deep breath before you re-arrange your boobs shortly, so they looked even bigger and step outside the door, right where the two of them were waiting for you.

Just as you expected, you found Jake sitting on your shared King-size bed, while Bradley already took place in the brown leather armchair, you placed perfectly in front of your bed, which would give him the best view of your husband and you. 

“Hey Bradshaw”, you smile at him, trying not to be too awkward. 

“Hey, sweetheart”, he grimaces, failing his own attempt to not make the situation seem a bit uneasy. 

“So”, you say, finding a seat in Jakes lap, who automatically wraps his arms around your waist. “Did Jake already spoke with you about the rules? And do you have anything on your heart you want me to know before we start?” 

Bradley shakes his head. “I honestly have nothing to say and regarding the rules, yes, he told me all of them. I am not allowed to touch either of you, unless I’ve been ask too explicitly but I can touch myself. I am allowed to give him some suggestions on what to do with you and If I feel uncomfortable, I can go at any time.” You nod in agreement.

 For a hot minute you already forgot that you are wearing a thin piece of nothing, but as you feel Bradley’s hazel eyes heavy on your pushed up breasts, you were suddenly put back into realization on what you were about to do, feeling a tight knot of excitement building in your lower belly.

You turn your head back to your husband, who put your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, before he presses your head down to kiss you.

 It was as if he could feel your slight nervousness, so he gave his best to calm you down by building his kiss up slowly.

He lovingly nips on your lower lip before he soothes it with the tip of his tongue, one of his hands wandering from your waist to your ass check which he squeezes lightly. His tongue found its way between your plush lips, while the kiss grew hotter and more passionate. As he lets go of you, you could feel his now hard cock press against your barely clothed center on which you could already see a dark patch. 

Jake now heaves you up from his lap, positioning you right in front of Bradley’s chair, who had watched your short make up scene with dark eyes. Your husband sits down at the end of the bed, where he has a similar view of you as his best friend has.

 “Honey, don’t you want to show our guest what’s hiding under this beautiful set?”, the blonde smirks at you. 

You nod coyly, your hands finding their way to your bra cups. You slowly put one out after the other, kneading them in a steady rhythm before you hardly pinch your nipples, moaning softly just as you know your husband loves it. 

“Get rid off that whole thing. Now”, Bradley commands in a raspy voice, unzipping his pants while he spoke. Jakes gaze finds yours and as he nods in agreement your hands wander to the zipper between your breasts. 

As you pull yourself out of the lingerie your eyes never left Bradley’s. 

“Isn’t she the most stunning woman you ever saw, Bradshaw”, the blonde asks his friend who hums in agreement. 

“Honey, why don’t you get in the middle of the bed and show us how wet you already are?”

You did as you were told, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed, hips lightly lifted, and legs spread as wide as possible. Even though you could not see your own core, the dark gleam in Jakes and Bradley’s eyes told you that you must be glistening with your own slick. 

“So soaked already honey?”, your husband teases, while he pulls his throbbing cock out of his boxer briefs. 

“Haven’t really touched you yet and you are already a mess. I Think you should touch yourself before you get my cock. We don’t want Bradley thinking that you get anything without earning it before, don’t we?”

You nod eagerly, your fingers already gliding through your folds to collect your wetness and bring it right up to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles around it. 

Soft moans were leaving your lips as you continue your movements on your nub, as you heard Bradley’s deep voice again. 

“Pinch your nipples again, sweetheart. Want to hear you sweet sounds grow a little louder”.

As before, you obey immediately, pinching your hard nipples: “Fuck”, you moan bugging your hips against your own hand. It didn’t take much longer until you heard heavy breaths coming from the other side of the room, where Jake and Bradley slowly pump their selves in the same rhythm as you were circling your clit. 

“Fuck, Jake. I need more”, you whine. 

“Tstsktsktsk”, your husband made, as he left his place at the end of the bed to sit down on the same height where your head was. 

“Did you forget how to ask nicely, honey?” Before you could answer you felt a sudden harsh slap on your pussy which makes you moan out loudly.

“Fuck”, you said in the same moment as Bradley did. Jake shows you his signature smirk.

 “Try again, baby.” 

“Please, please, daddy. I need more. My fingers don’t feel as good as you do. Please I need something more”. 

“Good girl”, he praises as he lets his head down to kiss you again. “Bradshaw what do you think she should get? My fingers, my mouth, or my cock?” 

“Your mouth”, Bradley states immediately, breathing heavy and voice filled with lust as he spoke. “Want to see how much she can take”. 

It does not take Jake more than 10 seconds to obey his friend’s word, setting himself up between your legs. He lets his thick fingers glide through your folds, collecting your slick as you did a couple of minutes ago, before bringing the finger up to his lips, closing his eyes with relish as he tastes you. 

“Do you think we should give Bradley a little foretaste of what he is missing?”, the sparkle in his green eyes was devilish. You nod, knowing nothing but another plea would be able to leave your lips if you opened them. 

The blonde between your legs repeats his earlier action before he stood up, offering the brunette who was pumping his thick cock, his finger. 

 It was not the deep groan Bradley let out as soon as the tastes your wetness, but the look in both of their eyes as Jakes finger still stays in Bradley’s mouth after Rooster had already licked it clean, that makes more than clear to you that this was the first but not the last time Rooster would be a guest in your bedroom. 

Not that you really cared, you simply wanted to be fucked by your husband. 

In a desperate attempt to re-focus Jakes attention on his soaked and naked wife, you wiggle your hips and let out a squeal. “Daddy. Please”. 

“Shhh, Honey. Daddy is here”, your husband reassures you, finding his way back between your legs. “You are a bit impatient today. Let’s see if you are really able to take what you are begging for”. 

With these words his head dives down to your core, his lips immediately wrap around your clit, sucking harshly on it. “Fuck fuck fuck”, you scream, fingers interwinding with Jakes blonde locks and tugging on them. 

Jake eats pussy like a starving man. And you are his last meal.

Being together with Jake for a couple of years now, he had found his way to get you screaming and squirming beneath him within seconds.

He sucks, he nibs, he licks, he nabs at your clit, always changing the motions. He adds a little pressure before he fully takes it away, waiting to hear you beg again.

 Begging for his lips to suck you into heaven. 

“Fuck. Daddy. I can’t…”, you were not able to form a coherent sentence, your brain feels completely mushy as your husband did anything but reducing the intensity of his torture to your pussy. 

Jake groans into your core, as his tongue finds its way to your aching hole, your hips bucking up into his face as he starts to tongue-fuck you.          

“God. Daddy, yes. Please don’t stop. Please. Jake”, you brabble as you feel your climax crushing down on you. Your eyes fall shut, and your mouth was open wide in a silent scream, as your husband makes no attempt to let go of your cunt. Quite the opposite was the case, as his tongue found his way back to your overstimulated clit, sucking on it softly.

“Jake”, you whine, tucking on his hair, trying to make him let go of you.

“You begged for him, sweetheart. Now you should be able to take your husband”, Bradley, who you have forgotten about for a hot second, smirks at you, fisting his cock now in a faster pace. “I think she should take your fingers now”, he adds towards Jake, who obeys as soon as he hears the words.

Two of his thick fingers find their way to your neglected hole, which he curls up just right to make them meet the sweet spot in your tight walls. 

Your back aches up from the mattress at that feeling, screaming out his name. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god”, you moan, the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out your cunt filling the room. The air was sticky and hot, sweat pearls down your forehead as you felt your second climax approaching. “Cum for me, Honey”, Jake mumbles against your pussy, sucking your clit accordingly to his finger thrusts. 

The high pitch, porn like sounding moan which left you lips the moment you came again, still echoes in your ears as you pull your husband up to meet his lips in a feverish kiss.

Another, deeper moan, leaves your lips as you taste your own release on Jakes tongue. 

“Think you are able to take my cock now?”, Jake asks, his forehead pressed onto yours, his right-hand cups your heated cheek. 

You nod eagerly, desperate to feel your husband filling you up. Jake manhandles you onto your knees, ass in the air, face turned in the direction where Bradshaw was placed. 

Jake comes up behind you, gliding his cock through your folds, using your slick as lube before he puts his cock right where you need him the most. You whine as you can feel him on your entrance but not pushing into you. “I want you to look Bradley in the eyes while I fuck you. If you break eye contact with him, you will regret it. Understand?”, he asks. 

“Yes, daddy”, you answer turning your head high, eyes meeting Bradley hazel ones.

“Such a good girl for us, isn’t she, Bradley?”, Jake finally thrusts into you as he asks Bradley, who winks at you at the words.

“She is. A really good girl. Even though she looks like a slut when she lets you fuck her like a dog with bouncing tits while she sounds like a porn star fresh out of a movie”.

You moan out loudly as Jake finds that special spot, his rhythm neither really slow nor really fast but his thrusts were hard. 

“Yeah, she is such a good little slut. Always let her daddy use her like he wants. Tell Bradley what you are, Honey.” 

“Daddy’s pretty fuck toy”, you answer, eyes shutting close as you feel the tip of Jakes cock brushing your cervix. 

“But not a good fuck toy”, Bradley smirks. “Didn’t obey your daddy correctly when closing your eyes”. 

Your eyes fly wide open, cursing yourself as Jakes delicious movements stop immediately. 

“Oh sugar”, Jakes says with a mimicked sad voice. “I told you, you would be punished, if you don’t keep your eyes on Bradley all the time”. 

And without a single warning he slaps the flesh of your ass harshly, while his cock was still buried deep inside your cunt. “Keep your eyes on Bradley and count. If you lose track again, you won’t be cumming again tonight. Got it?”

“Yes daddy”, you whine, eyes meeting Bradley’s again, precum was now leaking from the tip of his cock. 

“One”, you count as he slaps you again at the exact same point as before.

“Two”.

“Three”.

“Four”.

At the fifth slap you were not able to hold back a deep moan as his hand meets your red and hot skin. 

“She really is a slut. Getting off by her punishment”, Bradley grins.

“Jealous, Rooster?”, the blonde behind you asks, as he meets your ass for the sixth and seventh slap.

“Just a tiny bit”, Bradley grumbles.

The last three slaps followed quickly before Jake presses a kiss to your sweaty shoulder and reminded you  of his rules again. 

He then starts to set a fast, hard pace. His cock brushing your cervix again and again.

“Such a good girl”, he praises you. “Took your punishment so well. Such a pretty slut for me and Bradley. Going to fill you up so nice with my cum, honey. Mark you up, so Rooster never forgets that he is allowed to look but never to touch you”.

Jake brabbles, his grips on your hips becoming stronger, the both of you knowing very well that there will be bruises the next day. 

“Look at him, Baby. How the poor guy fists his cock, looking at you but knowing that he will never be able to have you. Having to see your beautiful tits bounce but he will never be allowed to hear your soft moans when he sucks them gently, just like you love it. Fuck. 

You are just mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Mine to care for. Mine to love. My wife”.

You moan in agreement, not able to form a sentence while you desperately try to let your gaze stay interlocked with the heavy breathing man in front of you. 

“Isn’t that what you want, Bradshaw? Fucking my wife? Feeling her hot walls clench around you dick? Feel her plush lips on your neck?” 

“Fuck yes”, Bradley moans, his hand movements become frantically.

“Fuck, Jake, s’close”, you moan. 

“I know, Baby. I feel you. M’close too. Bradshaw?”, he asks his friend, who then nods. 

“Want us to come together”, you say, begging Bradley with your eyes to agree to this. 

“Fuck, yes”, both of them said at the same time. 

Jake picks up his pace, Bradley’s hand movement follows so that he was fucking himself in the same rhythm as Jake was fucking you.

“3”, Jake starts to count down.

“2”, Bradley moans deeply, as he saw your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“1”, you scream out, as you reach your climax as the boys reach theirs. 

You saw white streaks of cum flooding out of Bradley’s cock as Jake feels you up with his, marking you as he promised too. Your body collapsed onto the sheets, your breath heavy, and a bit irregular. You close your eyes, as you feel Jake pulling out of you. 

“Honey are you with me?”, your husband asks, as he rubs soothing circles on your back before he picks you up into his lap, cuddling you close.

You nod, your throat feels dry from begging and moaning for the last hour. 

Bradley’s eyes meet yours, as he reaches out for the wipes Jake has placed on the desk next to him, to clean himself up.

“That was insane”, he states, voice sounding hoarse.

“Indeed”, Jake agrees, pressing a kiss onto your head.

“Who wants a repetition?” 

[mrsshabana]

𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Working in a morgue, you're used to being surrounded by death. But one night you come face to face with an undead that isn't the norm for your line of work. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, vampires, blood, violence, corpses ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.6k words. Thank you @chibi-absol for helping me develop this idea and motivating me to write something for myself ♡

✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter Two

This isn’t the job you dreamt of having, but it wasn’t bad either. Being a mortuary technician wasn’t on your to-do list, but you were desperate and needed money. Your family owned a funeral home growing up so you weren’t deterred by the idea of working with dead bodies every day. 

And hey it had some perks! Sure it was the night shift but at least you got to work alone. Never having to worry about a manager breathing down your neck or co-workers interfering with your work. It was more pleasant than the average person would expect. 

You worked for the city, not a private funeral home so most of the time you were preparing bodies for cremation or doing autopsies on suspicious deaths. Most of the bodies that come in are either homeless people or people who have no family members to claim the body. These cases were suspiciously high in your city. But again, it didn’t bother you because this is how you pay your bills. 

Today was like any other day, clocking in at 10 pm as usual. Examining your paperwork to see how many bodies you’ll be working with today. 

The file at the top of your stack is for a man estimated to be in his mid-twenties. And… that’s it? Usually, your files have more information on them, like the location or date the body was found. But this one has nothing.

“How strange…” you mumble to yourself as you put on your gloves and prepare for an initial examination. 

You waste no time getting to work, loading the young man’s body onto the transport cart, wheeling him over to the examination table and gently setting his body atop the cold surface. 

The first thing you observe is how his body moves as you transport him, he must have been dead for a while since it appears that rigor mortis has come and gone. Yet his body doesn’t smell? Everything about this case has been peculiar. But it doesn’t stop you from proceeding as usual. 

With a deep breath, you carefully unzip the body bag and remove it completely. Putting this young man’s corpse on full display. Right away there are some things you notice. You quickly turn on your recorder, grab his file, and begin filling it out as you examine his bare body. 

“The deceased appears to have spots located all throughout his body,” you look closer at the black splotches that are scattered across his skin. “They don’t appear to be wounds, but irregular shaped birthmarks.”

You clear your throat and continue writing and talking, “He has them on his right cheek, bridge of his nose, both sides of the chin, right clavicle, left breast, left and right upper arms, right hip, and on the genitalia. Further investigation may be required to determine if the deceased was born with these marks or if they were caused by illness.”

You usually don’t get very emotional when looking at corpses, but you can’t help but feel sadness when you look at him. He looks to be around your age, it’s sad to think that he died all alone, with no one stepping forward to claim his body. You can’t help but wonder what his story is and how he came to his end. 

You make a few more notes about his body, regarding his lithe frame, he was likely malnourished making you think that he was possibly homeless. He also has bags around his eyes, nothing too uncommon or alarming though. 

But it is quite strange, his body is as pale as a ghost yet the texture and appearance of his skin seems youthful and alive. Though he is most certainly dead. 

You’re about to wrap up your investigation when you notice something peculiar. 

“The deceased appears to have… a bite? On his neck?” you say in confusion, leaning forward to get a closer look. You’ve never seen anything like this before. 

“He has two prominent indentations on his neck, maybe bitten by an animal. But… the other teeth marks appear human…” 

You narrow your eyes and lean in closer. 

Suddenly the man’s eyes shoot open and he gasps for air, his chest rising as his lungs are filled with air for the first time in too long. You stumble backward, utterly horrified that your “patient” has just woken up. 

Before you can even open your mouth to speak to him, he’s lunging forward and slamming you against the cold concrete floor. His blunt nails turned claws, swipe at you as he hisses and snarls. Baring large fangs as he snaps at you, trying to get closer to you, but you barely manage to hold him back. 

Red eyes glare hungrily at you. You don’t know what’s going on but you do know that this is no human, this man is some kind of monster. 

“S-Sir! Please calm down!” You beg, but to no avail. The man doesn’t seem to have any thought in his head besides his intent on hurting you. 

You feel his strength suddenly increase, black veins visibly popping out on his face and body. He pushes down harder on you, his deadly teeth inching closer to your face. You panic and hold up your forearm to stop him from ripping your face apart. 

You may have saved your face, but you sacrificed your arm as his jaws immediately wrap around your flesh and close down with extreme force. But he doesn’t just bite and hold on no, he bites, and bites, and bites again. Until your arm is a bloody mess, skin and muscle hanging from his abuse. 

His eyes glow in excitement as your blood touches his tongue. 

If you stay here like this it won't take long for him to completely gnaw through your arm. Your body moves on its own, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you muster all of your strength to push him off of you. His body falling backwards causing the back of his head to slam against the bottom of the metal examination table. Momentarily stunning him for a few seconds. 

You use that time to quickly grab a bottle of formaldehyde and run to the walk-in freezer.

He grunts and blinks a few times as he regains his composure. After a few seconds, the smell of blood hits his nose and he is ravenously drawn towards it. Blindly running into the freezer, the scent of your fresh wound draws him. 

Your back is against the wall beside the entrance, hidden from his immediate view as he enters the walk-in freezer. As soon as he’s inside you smash the bottle of formaldehyde on his face. Holding your breath and squinting your eyes, trying not to allow the toxic fumes to enter your body. 

He howls in pain, so animalistically that it almost makes you pity the creature. Immediately he falls to the ground, claws at his burning eyes, and coughs as he breathes in the toxic substance. 

While he’s incapacitated you hurriedly slam the door behind him, locking him inside of the freezer. 

Your vision is blurry as tears fill your eyes, mostly from the pain in your arm but also from the fumes of the formaldehyde. Your legs feel like jelly as you collapse against the door, breathing heavily, panicking. With shaky movements you examine your body, making sure you didn’t get any of the toxin in your wound. But it appears to have only gotten on your hand and splashed a bit on your shirt. 

With wobbly legs you are barely able to force yourself up, quickly running over to the sink to wash your hands. The sounds of the man’s cries echo throughout the morgue. Then everything suddenly goes quiet. So quiet that you can hear your heart pounding.

“I-Is it d-dead…?” You stare wide eyed at the door as the anticipation seems to freeze time. 

…

A loud bang echoes through the morgue, shaking the door's hinges, as a large distortion forms on the freezer door. Bang, bang, bang. The creature slams its body against the inside of the door, trying desperately to escape. His strength is shown by how the thick metal door distorts from his efforts. You don’t want to wait around and see if he’s able to escape so you quickly grab your purse and run out of the morgue. 

✣ .. ༺♰༻ .. ✣

As soon as you left last night you went to the hospital. You had to get stitches but thankfully you ended up being okay. Though you were so shaken up that you were barely able to tell the nurses about what happened. Of course they’d never believe you, so you just told them that you had been attacked by a large dog. 

Physically you weren’t doing too bad, but mentally you were a wreck. A part of you had tried to convince yourself that you had just imagined the whole thing, but you knew deep down that it really happened. No matter how much the thought terrified you, especially when you had to return to the morgue the next night.

At the end of the day you still needed to pay your bills. And you would never forgive yourself if you left this monster for someone else to find and possibly get killed by. 

Hesitantly stepping into the morgue once again, it’s eerily quiet. 

“I-Is it still here?” You whisper to yourself. 

You swallow dryly, walking with trembling feet toward the walk-in freezer. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your chest and the sound of your footsteps.

Slowly, very slowly, you turn the handle of the freezer door. Opening it ever so cautiously.

And there he is. Lying in the fetal position in the corner of the room. His body completely still, pale, and covered in frost.

“Did I… Did I kill it?” 

You step closer and he doesn’t move. You even touch his skin, feeling that it’s freezing cold. Maybe you really did freeze him to death. 

Looking back at the door you see where he desperately tried to escape. Throwing his body against the door, even clawing at it with his claws. Even though he's a monster you still feel bad for him. 

But you know time is not on your side. And this creature has come back from the dead one time, so you know he could do it again. And you can’t leave him in the freezer forever. 

So you struggle to grab hold of him and drag him out of the freezer. His body still remains lifeless as he is dragged across the concrete floors and into the examination room. 

Now that he’s out of the freezer, what do you do with him? You have no idea if this creature is even killable, and to be frank you want answers. All you can think to do is restrain him to the examination table with leather straps you sometimes use to position corpses. You tie them tightly around his wrists and ankles. 

“Ok, that should be good right?” you pant, “Er, maybe not… what if he wakes up and tries to attack me again?” 

Really the only logical thought here. He will attack you again. 

Last time he seemed to be drawn to your flesh, so maybe you can use that to your advantage. You shouldn’t be doing this but you don’t have any other ideas. So you siphon the blood out of one of the corpses lined up for examination. Siphoning it into a large metal bucket. The blood isn’t fresh but you hope it will be enough to distract him if need be. 

Then you place a blanket on his body to cover him up. Partly because he has no clothes on, but also because a part of you feels compassion for him. Something about a cold body begs you to cover it with a blanket. Whether it be man or monster, you can’t ignore your caring nature.

Now all you do is wait. Despite having plenty of work to do, this is more important. And quite frankly you can’t focus on getting any work done with a bloodthirsty monster in your vicinity. 

You sit and wait in front of the examination table, watching as his skin dethaws as the minutes pass. Anxiously holding a scalpel in your hand, as if it would be a valid defense against him.

After less than an hour he begins to wake up. His eyes slowly open, looking around the room curiously. Red irises locking on as soon as they land on your form. He glares at you like a predator stares down its prey before it strikes. 

He tries to get up, but is stopped by the restraints. You grin, thinking you’ve succeeded. But no, with an effortless tug the leather straps snap and he lunges towards you. Though slowed from being frozen for 24 hours, he’s still surprisingly fast. 

“Don’t hurt me! Please!” You plead, holding out the bucket of blood. Hoping that it will be enough to deter him from taking your flesh into his maw. 

The scent of exposed blood is too much for him to bear. He’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Aggressively snatching it from your hands and greedily drinking it. The way in which he gulps down the thick liquid is frenzied and desperate. Like his life depends on it. 

The sounds alone are enough to disturb you greatly. You feel stunned as you stand there, watching this savage creature feast in front of you. 

In under a minute, the bucket is empty and he’s licking his fingers. Thick maroon dripping down his chin and onto his bare chest. You’ve never seen something so primal before. But it’s oddly beautiful at the same time. 

“You…” he croaks, panting as he tries to catch his breath. His voice is deep and carries an inhuman rasp, “Do you… wish to die?”

His face contorts into a scowl as he brings his bloodied hand up to your neck and squeezes tightly. Digging his claws into the flesh of your soft skin. 

“P-Please! Don’t ngh- hurt me!” You cry, grabbing his wrist in a pathetic attempt to pry his grip off of your neck. 

His red eyes speak of his murderous intent as he seemingly looks into your soul. Eyes redder than blood, pooling with primal hunger. 

“Stupid girl,” he growls, opening his mouth. His sharp fangs glistening red from his meal. 

“I-I can help you!” you beg desperately. When he seems unfazed by your words you continue, “I can give you blood! Wh-whenever you want! I have tons of it!”

He narrows his eyes at you, and quirks his brow curiously before looking around the room. “You… you work here?” he asks, sounding almost like a normal person.

You nod frantically as his grip around your neck tightens, restricting you from speaking further.

“Fine,” he growls, releasing you from his grasp and throwing you to the floor, “Give me blood whenever I ask and I’ll allow you to live.”

You hunch over on your hands and knees, coughing as you catch your breath. “Y-yes,” you pant, “I can do that, no problem! And I-I won’t tell anyone about you.”

“I know you won’t. You aren’t that stupid,” he snarls, looking down at you with an expression of uncertainty. 

You sit there instilled with fear, looking up at this undead creature. Unknowingly making an eternal pact with an unholy force. 

Finally, he averts his predatory gaze away from you. Grabbing the blanket you put on him previously and tying it around his waist. And without another word he opens the window and climbs out, disappearing into the night. 

And just like that the morgue is silent, almost as if nothing happened. You feel a strange combination of dread and relief wash over you. But you know this isn’t the end. 

You get a feeling you’ll be having a visit from the vampire again very soon.