#I got lazy near the end but oh well

[sugudollz]

Sucking Satoru’s fingers ❤️

Imagine sucking Satoru’s long, pretty tfingers, keeping eye contact with him and your eyes begin to water when his fingertips tease the back of your throat. You keep a tight grip on Satoru’s wrist, slowly sliding his digits in and out past your lips as he watches you with a smug smirk, an almost cocky aura surrounding him. “Yeahhhh, that’s a good girl…” he bites his bottom lip, knitting his eyebrows together and he stills holds the smirk. Your cheeks flush as your saliva paints Satoru’s lengthy fingers and they’re well taken care of, not to much surprise. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the feeling shockingly pleasurable. You swirl your tongue around his digits, sucking on them and gagging on them to send waves of satisfaction through his body. Suddenly, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your lips and bring them up to his instead, a teasing smile tugging at them. “Mh, such a good girl… so sweet, yeah?” He whispers and his breath fans over his skin.

© 2023 sugudollz only on Tumblr — do not copy, repost, translate, or steal.

[aejiee]

The real part 2 to celebrate 7k notes on the remus ass post 🥳🥳🥳

funnily enough, I didn't even focus on that while drawing but then every reblog and comment was about it 💀

[computer-boy]

ranpoe gay

redraw of this screenshot. i only have it with the text though

[victorluvsalice]

-->Fortunately, that was the end of Chore Time, and so we could get onto the meat of the playsession – namely, the Love Day dates! Alice went and asked Victor on the first date while Smiler headed upstairs to play some video games, and, naturally, I sent them to...

The Steampunk Cafe by patnactt3, which I'd set up earlier on the Pebble Burrow lot in Oasis Springs! :D Yeah, my original thought was to send them to South Square Coffee in Windenburg, but while looking through my Library to see if I had any better lots than the original cafe, I spotted the Steampunk Cafe sitting there, realized I'd never actually used said lot despite thinking it looked really cool, and headed over to Oasis Springs to plop it down (since it looked like the original creator built it there as per the preview pictures). It seemed a pretty neat place, to my delight -- with a central cafe, some outdoor activities (mainly chess and the steampunk rocket pad), and a whole hidden underground lab area. It just needed a little tweaking to be perfect – first, by replacing the toilets and the computers downstairs with more Victorian/steampunky versions (specifically, the toilets with the pull-chain ones from Vampires, and the computers with the typewriter ones from Cottage Living), and second, by adding a couple more things to do – like putting a small telescope up on the roof to go with the big observatory there, and sticking in a little splash pad area in the back for when it gets hot. :) I thought it would be ideal for Victor and Alice's date, and indeed, when they first got there, everything seemed to be going well -- I had them change into more appropriate clothes for the weather/situation, started them off with a few flirts, then sent them inside to talk to the barista and order some food – namely, a cannoli for Victor and a cup of mocha coffee for Alice.

-->Which is where I started running into problems. First off, the barista (who wasn’t very good at her job, as you can see by the coffee grounds spraying everywhere) kept acting like she couldn’t get to Victor and Alice for some reason, and put Victor’s plate down randomly on another table, which was already occupied. Second off, when I hopped into build mode to move the plate to a table that Katrina Caliente wasn’t sitting at, I discovered that the decorative woodworks that the creator had placed on the tables were all too big to ALLOW plates on them. Only the dragon table was actually accessible to Sims wanting to, you know, EAT. I tried to find something else to display them on, but the biggest spikiest one didn’t fit on a lot of the various displays, so I ended up just deleting them to make room. I then put the cannoli on another table and sent Victor over there to wait as Alice tried to get her coffee –

Aaaand another wandering townie came over, picked up the plate, and took it for herself. Before Victor could even take a bite. sigh This game, I swear...

-->Well, at least Victor and Alice could more than afford to redo their orders! I had them both order again and sit down at the recently-vacated-by-Katrina table nearest the counter – once again, the barista acted like she couldn’t get to them, but with them being closer, at least she put down the stuff where they were actually SITTING! I had Victor promptly start eating his cannoli this time as the plate was put in front of him, listening to Alice tell him a story and sharing some deep conversations with her, along with a bit of flirting. Alice eventually got her coffee, and the socialization train continued – though not without random townies trying to join in the conversation, as always. *grumble* Including the one who stole Victor’s original order! The nerve... I also saw Alice get blown a kiss at one point, but I wasn’t sure if Victor had done it or one of the other townies...I figured it HAD to be Victor because I was pretty sure I’d disallowed autonomous flirting in my game -- right? O.o

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna Dyes His Hair

You were just teasing him.

"Pink like a petite little rose."

"Shut it."

They were just play-fighting words. Part of an attempt to poke the bear that never seemed to bite at you.

"Pink like a sweet strawberry."

"Strawberries are red."

Sukuna had had you in his lap, lazy with a long day of work weighing on his bones. He watched you dote on him with a tired smile, too exhausted to mind your fingers lovingly brushing at tufts of his hair. Usually he'd swat at a touch as careful as the one you were giving him, but there were moments, like this one, where he seemed to soak up your tenderness.

"Pink like a baby kitten's nose." You cooed.

"Jesus." He groaned, rolling his eyes. 

Maybe it was the ending boop to his own nose that made him finally snatch you up and tackle you to the mattress.

Maybe that's why one day later, you're staring at him standing outside of a restaurant, leaning against his motorcycle with stark black hair.

He's grinning at you, knowing that he's won the little game as he always does, with overkill.

It was a promised date night, one you had been planning for a few weeks now. Sukuna never had the same days off that you did, but the stars happened to align for you to go out to dinner together and you leapt at his invitation.

After he spots you from across the parking lot, Sukuna stubs his cigarette beneath his boot and starts over to you. You can tell in the way his eyes devilishly glimmer that he's excited to see your expression. 

You're in too much shock not to give him exactly what he wants.

"Hi~" He purrs when he nears you, reaching a hand out for one of your own. You offer it subconsciously, moving automatically since your brain seemed to be sputtering. His rings are cold against your fingers, but even their icy bite is not enough to stir you back to the present. He tugs you into his embrace, looping an arm around your lower waist and pressing you into him. He’s warm despite the chill on his fingertips. When he's got you secured to him, he tilts his head at you, waiting for your response.

"Hi." You whisper, blinking up at him.

You know he thinks you're going to hate it. You know he thinks you're going to give him a pout- tell him how heartbroken you are to see his natural hair go. That was undoubtedly the punchline of his stupid joke. You've told him numerous times how much you loved his hair and every part of him that made him Sukuna... So why is your mouth suddenly watering?

“What d'ya think?” He runs his fingers through it, showing it off to you as if your eyes aren’t already glued to the newly darkened locks. 

It suits him just as well as his natural hair color does, but the black brings out the deep, rich color of his eyes and makes prominent the tattoos framing his face. People always tell you that Sukuna’s stare intimidated them, and you never felt it yourself until then. 

You swallow past your heartbeat, which you can suddenly feel in your throat. Sukuna notices, and his mischievous grin turns wolfish.

"Oh, you like it. Don't you?" He murmurs. Reaching up, he presses your slightly agape mouth closed so that he can place a chaste kiss to your shell-shocked lips. The smell of tobacco and expensive cologne has you in an even more intoxicated daze, rendering you boneless in his hold. His next words are a heated whisper, for your ears only.

"I usually only manage to take the words out of your mouth when you're strapped to my bed. This gotcha that good, little doe?" 

[synamartia]

♡ I Got You ( Human!Alastor x Afab!Reader )

♡ Content Warnings: MDNI ; 18+ ; Porn without plot ; smut ; semi-public sex ; car sex ; brat taming ; unprotected sex ; creampie ; if I missed any, let me know!

♡ Author's Notes: For my darling wifeys Hazel, Mink, and Danny~! I hope I was able to deliver on the base idea 🥺 Not proofread, my brain stopped braining near the end so it's kinda rushed, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless~!

♡ Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska

"Where's that- nngh! ... that attitude now, dear?"

You couldn't speak, your brain unable to even perceive the words that tumbled from Alastor's mouth as the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin filled your ears. "A- ah! Hah! Uh, oh, oh fuh-!" His hips slamming against the fat of your ass smothered any attempt to form words.

The darkness of the alley he had parked in kept your licentious activities hidden well enough from prying eyes on the bustling city street, thankfully. But the vehicle rocking back and forth from the force of his movements was a dead giveaway to anyone that lingered at the alley's edge a couple seconds too long - the moans of pleasure being torn from your heaving bosom, the pleading whimpers for him to fuck you harder a simple confirmation of what Alastor was doing to you.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, his voice laced with a smug arrogance, and suddenly you found your head being pulled back, your sweaty cheek being torn away from the sticky leather when his fingers tangled in your hair and yanked even further until you were staring at the lining of his car roof.

Eyes clenched shut from the pain in your scalp and the delicious, burning stretch of his cock ramming in and out - going deeper and deeper than any of your previous partners, reaching new places you didn't know existed with every thrust - your nails sunk into the headrest of the seat you had been pressed against, clinging desperately to something, anything tangible to keep yourself grounded.

What was he saying just now? Oh, yeah - it was something about your attitude.

"I- hah! I said- fuck, I sssaahh-!" You managed to get out in between your gasps, biting the inside of your cheek to gain some semblance of control over the mind numbingly sensations coursing through your veins. Using the front seats as leverage, you craned your neck to peer over your shoulder until you could see Alastor's face, smirking at the site before you - rounded glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, pupils dilated, cheeks dusted with a faint pinkish glow, jaw slack.

"I said, you can fuck me better than that!"

"Such foul language! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Tsk, tsk, tsk," he teased, the flowy skirt of your dress bunched at your waist, giving him a clear view of the ripples being sent through your backside. His free hand grasped one cheek, guiding your sweet, sweet cunt up and down his excruciatingly throbbing member.

"You're right, I can fuck you better. But I wonder - can you?"

Detaching his hands from your hair and ass, Alastor spread both arms across the top side of the backseat, slowing the lazy bucking of his hips until he stopped moving entirely. Groaning loudly at his goading you into movement, you didn't waste a single second - rolling your hips back and forth on his lap harshly. Gripping the edges of the front seat tightly, your grinding gradually turned into a bounce, gaining speed with every downward motion of your hips.

"Ho-hoooh fuck yes, just like that! Keep going!" Alastor breathed out, watching as your hips gained speed with every downward motion, the 'smack, smack, smack!' of skin against skin and the obscenely wet squelching of your pussy filling the air and pushing you closer to your release, threatening to throw you over the cliff's edge of absolute bliss any second now.

Clamping down on his painfully hard length, Alastor let out a delectable little whimper, clenching his eyes shut and throwing his head back against the leather seat. Raking a hand through his damp chestnut locks, the pliant walls of your heated sex wrapped around his cock provided him with some amount of relief; but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

He needed more.

"Fuck, fuck, Alastor! I'm so close!" you cried suddenly, closing your eyes tightly as both of you felt the all-too-familiar fluttering of your pussy, causing your hips to stutter - leaving you right on the cusp of glorious ectasy but holding you back from that heavenly plunge. Alastor let out a breathy laugh at your predicament, wanting nothing more than to edge you, to grab hold of your hips and hold you still until your orgasm slipped from your grasp entirely. It would undoubtedly teach you not to act like such a brat, especially in public.

Had Alastor not been dangling off the very same cliff, he would have.

"I got you, dear."

And with that, his hands returned to the plush roundness of your ass cheeks and spread them apart for a better view, helping you to regain your momentum and planting his feet into the floorboard for added leverage.

"That's it," Alastor whispered, mesmerized by the sight of your ambrosian heat swallowing his engorged cock whole, his balls slapping against your neglected clit as he bucked his hips into you from below.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Don't stop, don't stop, almost there-!" he coaxed you into the beginnings of your release, imagining the way your face would scrunch up at the first few waves to come crashing over you. Thighs trembling, toes curling, your jaw dropped into a silent scream at the overwhelming pleasure hitting you over and over and over again, each wave more intense than the last.

Alastor wasn't too far behind you, and with one final thrust he was spilling his hot cum inside you and painting your walls white with his seed. He kept still as he rode out the high that accompanied his release, his hips pressed flush against your bottom while both of you panted and gasped and tried to bring yourselves back to reality.

"Fuck... maybe I should complain about your poor choice in musicals more often."

[hoasvuon]

(7:21 AM)

wonwoo had always thought that his days off meant relaxation. he could play games for as late as he wanted, run to the local convenience store to grab instant noodles in between games, and laze around the house. and it especially meant one thing: that he could sleep in as late as he wanted, and just roll around in his sheets until the sun shone far too bright through the curtains.

with how fast-paced his life was, his slow mornings were his break from the reality of the world spinning around him. his way to decompress and center himself. after all, there always seemed to be something else that he had to do, or remember to do, or think about doing in the future.

but since he met you, his mornings started a bit differently.

wonwoo didn't know when he fell asleep, but he did know that he had fallen asleep with you tucked in his side, and that he had been playing the ends of your hair to fall asleep. feeling the sunlight hit his face, he reached out before feeling the empty spot next to him, still warm.

you couldn't have been up for that long then, he thought to himself

grabbing the throw blanket off the bed, he walked to the kitchen and was hit with the smell of pancakes wafting through the hallway. you had your back turned to him, busy intently watching to make sure none of your precious pancakes got burned. as he approaches you from behind he hears your quietly humming to yourself, most likely as not to wake him from the nearby bedroom.

"you abandoned me, how could you", wonwoo says as he wraps the two of you in the fluffy blanket. "i woke up all alone with no one to cuddle"

you laugh, the sound like wind chimes to his ears. "oh you big baby, i was going to wake you up once i finished making the pancakes"

"you could've woken me up when you woke up you know, i'm good at making pancakes too" wonwoo replies. "do you not trust in my pancake making abilities?"

you tilt your head to the side, fake contemplating. "hmm not really" but the small laugh after you say it confirms that you had no bite in that sentence. "i just wanted you to be able to sleep in, i know how much you like doing that on your days off"

wonwoo has a small smile on his face - you know him all too well. peppering small kisses to your cheeks, he says "well next time you better wake me up, so that we can have a pancake making competition! i can't have you thinking i make inferior pancakes"

you murmur a small "ok baby", eyes still focused on the pancakes in front of you.

what he doesn't tell you is his underlying thoughts: wake me so i can see you in the morning, wake me so i can be near you whenever, wake me so that i can see you making pancakes, laughing light like a fairy when you accidentally burn one.

(wonwoo doesn't think life would ever give him enough mornings with you, wrapped in his arms, peppering lazy kisses to your face. so he wants nothing more than to spend all those precious moments awake and by your side)

[sttm99]

TW...? Mentions of alcohol, implications of sex.

Part 2

"Come on, just go." Kaminari hisses under his breath, impatience and anxiety curling around in his stomach as he stands just outside the convenience store.

It's late at night, phones showing a bright 9:37 on the screen, as Bakugo, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari stand outside the store. It's the last day of school before the summer and they're all finally of the legal drinking age.

So what better way to celebrate the end of school than with alcohol?

"Why do I have to go in first?" Sero's frowning, harshly slapping at Kaminari's hand as he tries to push him forward.

"You're the tallest?"

"Kirishima's the buffest-"

"Shut the fuck up, idiots." Bakugo growls out, pushing past them and barging into the store. His aggressiveness has the door squeaking loudly before slamming back down into frame.

You look up from where you're seated at the register, a lazy glare on your face. "You're responsible for anything you break. Even doors," you drawl out with a frown as you take in the sulking teenager.

He glares at you, "Where's the drinks?"

"Rude." You scoff, dropping the magazine you were looking at and pointing to the far right. "Sodas and juices are over there." You murmur.

But that only seems to anger him further, "Not sodas. Drinks. Alcohol?"

The door opens again, and three more boys walk in. These ones are more shy and nowhere near as rude as the ash-blonde.

You sit up and raise a brow at them. "We don't sell alcohol to minors."

"Minors?" Sero scoffs indignantly.

"Hey- you look younger than us!" Kaminari pouts.

You roll your eyes. "I'm 18, okay? Now, if you guys want some drinks, I'm gonna need some ID." You say with a smirk, eyes focused on the brooding blonde that had barged in first.

He glares at you angrily as he stalks forward, slamming his student ID card down on the counter. You look down at it, showing little interest at first, until you catch sight of the letters on the top right of it.

"No way," you pick up the card, "You guys go to UA?" You ask, looking up at them. "Hero Course too?"

The shock and admiration in your gaze has their chests swelling with pride, with Bakugo leaning his elbows on the counter and smirking down at you. "Isn't it obvious?"

You raise a brow up at him and grin, dipping your hand into your back pocket to bring out your phone. "Oh yeah. You're the one they chained up some years ago, right?"

He scowls. "You mean the one who won."

You scoff, hopping off the stool and rounding the counter. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on, I'll show you the drinks."

They grin, quickly following after you.

"This is your first time buying alcohol, right?" Ypu say as you stride into an aisle, dark bottles and cans lining the shelves.

"Is it obvious?" Kirishima asks shyly.

You shrug as you begin looking over bottle labels. "Yep. I'm sure you also don't know much alcohol, right? What drinks you want?"

Bakugo glares. "We're not fucking idiots."

"I didn't say you were," you roll your eyes at him. "But anyways. What's your budget, hm? Do you want something strong or something that tastes good?"

The boys crowd in on you, looking around the aisle as well. "Um...." Sero huns as he looks around. "Somethung that's strong. The strongest you got."

You look back at him. "You ever heard of overdosing? Kidney failure? Alcohol poisoni-"

"Where are you going with this?" Bakugo snaps at you.

"I'm starting to see why you were muzzled." You murmur as you pull out a bottle of Smirnoff from one of the shelves and hand it over to Sero. "This is a good option. It's strong and doesn't taste that bad compared to some others." You shrug.

"We'll take it!" Sero exclaims as he grabs hold of the bottle.

"Cool," you hum and look at him. "How many? Just the one?"

"Three." Kaminari says.

You turn to grab two more bottles from the shelves. "You know you shouldn't consume the three in one night," you say. "It's strong, and you guys haven't built any tolerance to alcohol so..." You hand the two bottles of Smirnoff to Kaminari and Kirishima, purposefully avoiding Bakugo, "Just be careful, is what I'm saying."

They hum, not very convincingly, but you can't force them to take your advice.

"Your total is 11,350 yen," you hum as you sit behind the cash register the last item they'd picked. You'd managed to convince them to get some sodas to chase the alcohol, and then they'd wanted to pick up a few snacks as well.

The boys were talkative, and the store was empty. They'd talked about how they were having a small end-of-school party in their dorm, and you smiled and laughed along with them, all while getting them to increase the number of items in their cart.

After all... your dad owned the convenience store, and you were looking at some new bikinis you wanted to get for the summer.

A little persuasion wouldn't hurt anyone.

They pooled together cash to pay and excitedly picked up the bags of what they'd just bought.

"It was nice meeting you, YN." Kirishima says as he grabs the last bag, flashing you a wide smile.

Kaminari joins in, "Yeah. We should hang out sometime." He offers.

You shrug with a small smile, "No problem. I'm mostly here... I'll be here a lot during the summer, so you can always drop by."

They begin leaving, and once the door closes, you lean on the register, picking up the magazine again.

You almost groan at the squeak of the door, already too tired to deal with another customer. You turn to glance at who it is, shocked to see Bakugo again.

"What are you doing back here?" You roll your eyes at his permanent scowl.

He grunts at you, continuing to walk to the counter wordlessly, hands stuffed in his pocket.

"Oi," you raise a brow, annoyed at how he was ignoring you. "You really need to work on manners."

He huffs as he stands right before you, opposite the register. He's quiet for a second before he glances to your left momentarily... then again, and a third time.

"What is it, mute?" You huff, arms folded as you follow his vision. "Oh-"

You chuckle, amused. "Big night ahead?"

"Just- shut up and pass the shit." He grunts in annoyance and embarrassment.

You laugh, "Calm down, okay? It's just some condoms." You roll your eyes and grab a few different ones, laying them out to him. "First time buying?" You raise a brow.

That's not entirely what you mean, though. And he picks up on it.

'Virgin?'

He sighs, "Obvious?"

You shrug a bit. "Kind of, yeah." You look down at the selection. "You know your size?" You ask, and he while pointing to the one on the left.

You hum, and scan it. He keeps looking at you as you bring a disposable bag to pack it in.

He struggles to muster up the courage, "Um..."

You look up at him as he stutters, and it has him struggling even harder. It's weird, and it pisses him off, how you're looking up at him when he's buying condoms.

"Any tips?" He mumbles softly, already mortified and wishing he could take it back. You're a stranger, and you've already shown how much you enjoyed making fun of him- why would he think to ask you such?

But you just shrug, "Do what feels right. Don't overthink." You say and hand him the bag. "The aim is for you both to feel good."

He hums and nods. "Thanks..."

There's silence for a few moments as he pays and takes the bag, and just as he's turning to leave, he stops again. Bakugo pulls out his phone swiftly and throws it onto the counter even quicker.

"Can I..." he trails off.

You stare at the phone for a while, then back at him. You smirk cheekily. "Sure." You chuckle as you put your number in his phone.

He takes it, looks at it for a second, before stuffing it back in his pocket. "You're here for the summer?" He asks.

You said so already..., and he knows.

"Yeah," you reply, leaning on your elbows. "Drop by anytime."

He hums and looks at you before turning and walking out of the store.

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader

Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.

Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)

Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️

⭐️My requests are open!

Other parts here!!

~~~~

Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.

The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.

“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.

“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back

The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.

“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.

You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.

——

Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.

“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned

“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.

“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.

“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.

“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia

“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”

“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy

“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted

“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.

“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace

“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed

“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy

“Piss off bronze” you sulked

———

Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.

Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.

“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed

“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied

“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”

“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.

“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”

“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled

“i miss you so much” she sighed

“i miss you too baby” you agreed

———

Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.

“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.

“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.

“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”

“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.

You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.

The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.

——

The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.

“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.

“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.

“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.

You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.

You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.

As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.

Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.

Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.

You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.

“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.

“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.

Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.

“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk

“Hmm yes a little” you smiled

“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia

“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed

“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.

——

You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.

The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.

However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.

The save never came.

Everything went silent.

Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.

Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.

——

Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.

The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.

To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.

“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face

“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman

“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.

——

The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.

That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.

Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.

“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you

“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.

Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.

A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.

You screamed out in pain as everything went black.

“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.

“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.

Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.

“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.

She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.

You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.

“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.

Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.

“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.

“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.

The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.

As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.

Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.

After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.

“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes

“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly

“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.

“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.

“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.

“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine

A steady heart beat filled the room.

A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.

The baby was okay.

“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba

“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.

Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.

“Alexia” you called

“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.

“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.

“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister

“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3

[enoe-of-noen]

An MC who hides under their desk

I forgot about this.

Belphegor

Joins them

Taking naps under their desk may be cramped but hey, it’s comfy

This way he can be even closer

Doesn’t even try convincing them to go onto their bed

Mc always complains about their back after their naps

Beelzebub

Wishes he could join them but baby boy is too big for under desk cuddles

Ends up just snacking, laying down on the bedroom floor and his head on MC’s lap

Doesn’t mind the position

Loves doing this after he has a very physically demanding day

Great way to relax

Asmodeus

Is concerned for your body

You shouldn’t be so cramped!

Your bed is so so so much more comfier than under your desk, hon!

Or, even better, his bed!

Finds it to be an odd hobby of yours - reminds him of Belphie

Always asks if he can massage you if you feel any tension from your cramped positions

Satan

Reminds him of a cat

Finds it absolutely adorable

Although hopes you’re not stressing your muscles

“Would you mind some company?” He says with a smile and a book in hand

Who could reject such a request?

Leviathan

What are you doing down there?

Does it hurt? Is it uncomfortable???

Oh! Do you want some azuki-tan plushies to make it softer? Be right back!

Can he join you? Of course, he’d understand if you wouldn’t want to. He’s just a disgusting otaku who doesn’t even deserve to be in your adorable presence-

Shut him up by hugging him close. Let him know he’s loved.

Don’t worry about him being hesitant, he’ll warm up eventually.

Under your desk could even be considered better than cuddling in his tub.

Mammon

Oi, human! What’re ya doing down there?! Are you cramped? Is anything sore?! Why aren’t you on your comfy bed instead?

Humans are weird.

Well, I mean, Belphie would do this too. Whatever.

Huh? You want me to join?

…

….HA! You think you’re worthy enough to be in such a small space with the great Mammon?

Well you’re darn right! Scooch over!

Lucifer

Surely, your bed would be better.

Come on out, MC, your body will become sore.

Please MC, his old man heart can’t worry more about you than it already does.

Still no? Alright, make some room then.

Never mind, he’s too big for under your desk.

Offer that your lap is free.

He smiles and sighs happily as he rests his head on your lap, oh how he’s never felt such relaxation.

Having you near and close makes his heart beat a million miles per second, it’s absolutely heaven.

He does this on nights where he’s finally free from the stress of work, sometimes suggesting his own desk.

~——————————————————~

I had complete forgotten about this in my endless amounts of drafts. Got kinda lazy with Levi and beyond cause yeah. I had only gotten up to kitty cat boy before I ran out of motivation when I first wrote this - what, months ago? Hope y’all enjoyed.

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: i feel so good from the traction I got from the last post 🥹 y'all r angels. here's the part 2 you were looking for, boo! @avoidthings 💗

JADED | AARON PIERRE

Part 2.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on, orgasm denial), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

baby, we can fuck inside my truck, shit wide body.

knew i'd be hurt to see if you leave, but god got me.

Choked out heavy sighs slipped past your lips as you lay in the backseat, just how he liked you; folded up. He had your meaty thighs pinned back, your arms wrapped around them comfortably, holding yourself open for Terry. He'd just got you back there, in that position and he was already inside of you. Gazing down at you with soft eyes, he said nothing at first, his thumb and pointer finger lazily pulling and pinching at your already sensitive buds.

His fingers continued tweak with your nipples, manipulating them anyway he seen fit as his short, hypnotizing strokes seemed to get deeper, fester, mind dizzying. "Oh my god, daddy!" You whined, eyes going crossed as he found that spot again. That same spot his fingers were so easy to find, his dick had no problem as well. Stars danced behind your eyes as you zoned in on that pleasure, face beautifully frowned as you held onto your thighs tightly, acrylic nails digging into your own flesh. You felt everything, from him tweaking with your nipples down to the slight burn from how he stretched you. You were wet, he had you so wet, the slick sounds of your pussy filled the car, lewd and loud.

Terry nodded above you, eyes trained on you, face stoic, as if fucking you on a Thursday night in the parking lot of an apartment complex was a normality at this point. "Yeah, you feel that shit baby?" He mumbled pulling his left hand from your nipple and using his thumb to rub your clit in quick lazy circles, the squelching and gushing sounds of your pussy didn't do anything to help out how incredibly brainless you'd felt already. "Mm-mm," he hummed abruptly pulling his right hand down away from your nipple slapping his hand against your cheek firmly, "bring yo' ass back here. Ain't no zonin' out, bitch. Come back'ere."

The slaps seemed to bring you back, just barely, but it didn't dull the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were experiencing. Your breath seemed to hitch in your throat, you wanted to moan, you wanted to scream but everything was too good in this moment. Terry seemed to not take notice of this, or simply not care because this didn't deter him from his already breath shattering strokes, instead he placed his left hand on the back of your thigh, pushing down, steadying himself on his knees as he plowed down into you. The sound of his thighs clapping steadily against your ass was enough to draw the breaths out of you. He was bottoming out. He had to feel how you clenched and creamed around him, he had to know he was damn near touching your stomach.

"Shit!" You squealed out, hands abruptly shooting out to press back against his thighs, deter him a little, get him to show you some kind of mercy. Your head was mere centimeters from slamming against the door handle.

His right hand slid from your cheek around to the back of your neck until you could feel his fingers tangling in the root of your curls at the back of your head, bringing your head forward to watch his lewd deep strokes. "Look at that shit, look at the mess that pussy makin' on my dick," he spoke through heavy breaths, his own soft groans following, "sayin' you don't miss daddy, that pussy missed me plenty though." You faintly followed the scene as your own moans drowned out the rest of his dirty words. You had him covered in cream, pussy squelching and queefing with every following stroke.

The trembling in your legs only seemed to intensify as he continued his assault on your pussy. "Daddy!" You huffed through a moan, eyes lowered and brows furrowed together you looked up at the man above you, his expression mirroring yours almost mocking. "I know you feel that!" You gasped the tightening in your stomach bubbling to the surface once again. He had you on the brink for the second time that night. He groaned in response to that, how your pussy had started to clench around him, gripping him, sucking him in.

"I feel it, baby," he cooed, fingers still tangled in your unruly curls he leaned down peppering sloppy kisses against the corner of your agape mouth, "daddy feel that pussy squeezin' me, good ass pussy." He commented breathlessly, a deep growl from his throat following, only earning more drawn out moans from you.

"You wanna cum for daddy?" He asked you, lips pressed against your ear. "I feel that shit in yo' legs you wanna cum." He teased feeling you nod vigorously against his face. "Yeah, you do baby," he hummed softly, "but you bet not cum."

You whined as his strokes didn't relent. He had denied you for the second time that night. You better not cum, yet he kept fucking you like he wanted you to. Like he dared you. You couldn't keep holding it, the pleasure was too overwhelming. He was digging as deep as he could've gotten in you. Everything he gathered from you, was messily painted on his dick.

"Fuck!" A deep groan came from your tummy, tumbling out of your mouth in a curse. Your eyes had rolled back once again, as he fucked you stupid. Your mouth hung open as he continued slamming into you, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix so tenderly. "I–I can't keep holdin it!" You stammered, voice slurred and high pitched.

Terry groaned in response, cursing quietly about how tightly you gripped him. "You can," he audibly responded, "just like you can take yo' ass on them dates." He stopped momentarily and earning a needy and eager whine from you. He sat up on his knees, dick still deliciously deep inside of you, he untangled his hand from your frizzy curls and instead fisting your rolled up tank top in his hand for leverage as he fucked himself into you once more. His free hand managed to find itself around your neck, squeezing firmly enough to make you gasp, just a little bit.

It wasn't like you could breathe anyway, there he was fucking the breath out of you once again. Your eyes watery as you held eye contact with him once again, your toes curled into a ball, mouth still agape, drool pooling there. You were fucked out, just how he liked you. Dumb and needy. The sight alone was enough to bring him closer to his nut. But he could never get his before you got yours. Taking care of his bitch was always his number one priority. He prided himself on making sure you got off first.

"Goin' out with them lame ass niggas, makin' them think they got a chance to fuck my bitch," he breathlessly mumbled to you, the sounds of your skin clapping together almost drowning the side of his deep, quiet voice.

"No!" Was the only thing you could force out, the tears brewing in your eyes finally spilling at once. You didn't know why you said no, were you letting him know them niggas never had a chance or were you tryna stop yourself from cumming all over his dick like how you wanted to, so badly.

It seemed to do the job for both.

"I know baby," he nodded curtly, "i know you daddy's bitch. I know you belong to me. Look at that pussy, wanna cum so bad. You wanna cum so bad, don't you pretty girl?"

"So pretty when you all fucked up and fucked out."

You nodded vigorously you were past the point of pleasure, you were somewhere floating, you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you if you wanted to. Words were no longer an option for you, he'd stole them many strokes ago.

"Yeah?" He moaned in response, hand squeezing firmer around your neck. "Cum on my dick baby, let me feel that shit. Don't hold back, give me all that shit."

That was all it took for a high pitched scream to come rumbling from your stomach, your eyes found themselves how they loved to be when he was inside of you; crossed. Your hands left your thighs, palms slamming flat against the seat beneath you, your nails scratching against the material. You saw colors you couldn't describe, the tension in your stomach seemingly dispersing right on que. this feeling was lightheaded, unsteady, but so so good.

But he continued on his own journey. Still fucking into you like his life depended on it. Grunting, groaning as he continued to chase his own high, the way you gripped and clenched around him as he fucked you through your orgasm was mind numbing to him. Your shit was way too good. Too good to be free. And if the sight of you getting fucked through your orgasm wasn't enough to get him to fill you up, your broken moans and whimpers sure were enough.

You couldn't take much more of this, pussy thumping as he continued to fuck you. You were completely overstimulated, coming him to cum as best as you could through your shaky, broken dialogue. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted repeatedly, a serious if growls and groans rumbling from deep within in his chest spilling out as he rutted into you, he was there. You were too gone in your own head when he finally did fill you up. And fill you up he did. You couldn't hear him when he pulled out either, the only thing you did react to was the soft kisses he delivered to you afterwards.

"Push that shit out, baby, let me see it." He cooed to you, his large hands holding your thighs in place, you whimpered but obliged to what he said anyways, gently pushing out what he dumped into you moments earlier. "You such a nasty bitch," he murmured in a trance like state watching his seed leak out of you, peppering sweet, gentle kisses where he could on your face, contrary to the merciless strokes he was just giving to you.

The next few moments you took to try and steady yourself, bring you back to earth somehow. This nigga had fucked you into another dimension you were convinced. You were able to ground yourself once he got out, searching the bed of the pickup to find something to clean you up with.

You sighed once you were able to come back to, chest heaving, hair unruly, and your panties and shorts strewn about his truck. I'm such a dumb bitch.



-

feral for mr. pierre. second part of many fics of him to come 😭 xx.

[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Thursday 8/22: soulmates/string of fate | meant to be | 870 words | rated T

“I hate it when people talk about twists of fate,” Anna liked to say. “When it comes to life, we spin our own yarn, and where we end up is really, in fact, where we always intended to be.” —Julia Glass, Three Junes

“Do you ever think…” Evan said idly, and then seemed to get distracted, following the path of a droplet of sweat with one fingertip as it wound its way down Tommy's temple toward his jaw.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, and they were still catching their breath, sticky and satisfied and gloriously naked together. Tommy had just been starting to think longingly about the coffee machine downstairs.

“Do I ever think what?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Evan said. He'd already replaced his finger with his mouth, dropping a line of light kisses down the side of Tommy's face.

“You started to ask me something. Do I ever think what?” Tommy prompted.

“Oh. Yeah. Do you ever think, like, what would it have been like? If we had met each other before. When I first joined the 118, I mean.”

“I don't think you would have liked me very much,” Tommy said.

“I know you wouldn't have liked me very much,” Evan chuckled. “I was kind of a dipshit.”

“Was?” Tommy said dryly, and Evan pushed ineffectively at the side of his face.

“Shut up,” he said. “I'm in my Buck 5.0 era.”

“I don't even know what that means.”

Evan snorted, and rolled on top of Tommy, and for another long minute got distracted again, rubbing a stubbled cheek against his neck and collarbone until Tommy’s skin was tingling pleasantly.

“I mean it, though,” Evan said thoughtfully, kissing the cleft in Tommy's chin. “You know, if you think about it, we – we came so close to meeting. So many times. Even me joining the 118 was like, such a near miss.”

“Right, because you came in as my replacement.”

“That's the thing,” Evan said, finally pushing off Tommy's chest to sit upright, and oh, Tommy realized, he'd really been thinking about this. “I don't think I did? Bobby mentioned once that he meant to hire me to fill the spot left by someone named... Deluca? I never met him.”

Tommy pushed himself up on one elbow. “Wait, what? Sal Deluca?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to come in to replace him, but then you transferred, too. So A shift was a man short for a while, which I actually didn’t even realize at the time? And then when Bobby brought Eddie on we were finally at full strength.”

“So what you’re saying,” Tommy said slowly, “is that you and I were supposed to work together?”

“Yeah!” Evan said excitedly. “I think so! Isn’t that wild? But then you decided you wanted to fly again, and so we didn’t even overlap.”

“Wow. That’s… kind of crazy.”

“I've kind of been realizing there's a whole bunch of moments like that. Like, these little things that were connecting us way before we ever met. Like how Chimney called you in for the water drop that time and I was on the ground. I, uh,” he smiled shyly. “I really like to think about that.”

“I like it, too,” Tommy said.

He rubbed absently at Evan's knee and let his mind wander. He'd seen pictures of Evan back then, when he was fresh out of the academy and still a probie. He looked slender and lanky like a colt. And so young. For all the ego that radiated from him, the Evan in those photos had a raw, unfinished quality to him. Like he hadn’t quite finished cooking yet.

“It explains something I overheard Bobby say last week,” Evan said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, at the barbecue. I, uh, I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” he said, and Tommy made an incredulous noise. “Really! I was getting us drinks, and Bobby and Athena were just inside, and he – he said something about how he knew we would work well together, and she was like, Really, all skeptical like she gets, and he was like, Maybe not the way I originally thought, and then they both kind of laughed.” Evan grinned down at him and laughed a little. “So maybe we were. You know. Meant to be.”

He sounded a little facetious, as though he was expecting Tommy to make fun of him. But Tommy found himself humming thoughtfully instead, running one hand up the unfairly long line of Evan’s thigh from his knee to his hip. Gripping him there, at the opposite shoulder, gently, and even more gently pushing him back against the pillows and insinuating himself between his legs.

Evan was still laughing, a little breathlessly now, and when Tommy kissed him, sweet and slow, he almost thought he could taste Evan’s smile on his lips.

“I don’t know if I really believe in soulmates, Evan,” he said, eventually. “But it does feel like there’s something there, doesn’t it? Some kind of string tying us together.”

They kissed again, and Tommy ground down a little against Evan’s pelvis, just for the pleasure of skin on skin, for the pleasure of a good kiss with absolutely nothing between them.

“I don’t know if I believe in soulmates either,” said Evan, still a little breathless. “But if I had one, I – I think it would be you, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” asked Tommy. He felt his heart stutter a little in his chest.

“Yeah,” said Evan. And kissed him again.

this has been languishing in my drafts for weeks and I finally finished it for Positivity Week! based on this post by @unfuckablebogtroll

[tojisth3rdwife]

Toji wasnt much of a gossip, but you being his girlfriend, he made the occasional exception. He could listen to you rant and ramble all day if it meant being close to you. Even if he barely registered half of what you were saying.

“That bitch waits until the end of the day to call me in her office, talking bout some ‘I wanted to discuss something schedule related before you head out’..As if she couldn’t have said something that morning or sent an email.” You grumbled as you dunked the large plate into the sudsy water.

Day dreaming.

Mindless.

Dazed.

Fixated.

Words that would be used to describe the way Toji watched you.

He’d been sitting at the kitchen island on a bar stool for the last few minutes as you washed dishes in your old cheer shorts and tight cropped camisole, giving him an unobstructed view of your ass.

Heart shaped and heavy at the bottom with little dimples of cellulite you used to be self conscious about dotting your skin. If anything, that was his favorite part of your booty. He’d say it gave it character.

Not so distant memories of him burying his face between them with his tongue prodding at your hole, inhaling the scent of your pussy has him shifting in his seat. Moaning his name against the pillows and deepening your arch. Massive hands spreading your cheeks further apart while he ate you from behind, groaning in ecstasy at your taste. Something like that wouldnt be hard to do right now. All he’d have to do is get on his knees behind you and slide your shorts down just enough for him to…

“Toji.”

He blinks at the sound of his name.

“Hmm?” He grunts, head lifting from his palm.

His eyes snap up to your face when you glance at him over your shoulder, a curious brow lifted.

“Are you listening to me?” You smirk at his lazy expression and Toji’s lips tucked against eachother as he nodded, humming affirmatively so that you’d continue.

“Yeah! Of course.. your PTO thing.” He adds in confirmation that he was indeed listening. Somewhat. Despite him being slightly bricked up but you wouldn’t know it since you were too busy running your damn mouth.

You squint at him incredulously but turn away to resume scrubbing.

“Mmhm. So anyway. Then she tells me that Im not approved for the PTO I requested for my birthday trip. And I just laughed because jokes on her. I wasn’t gonna be there whether she approved it or not.”

Water ran loudly as you rinsed a large pot, and you shift your weight to favor your left leg, bringing Toji’s gaze right back to your dimpled cheeks. His tongue runs over his top lip, his eyes climbing the line your spine the way his tongue would on its way up your body after making you cum on it. Toji loved the way you’d shiver and tremble underneath him, making his dick rock hard and ready to slide inside of you. And he knew it would be easy with how wet you got.

“I told her that my request was really just for her benefit. If she doesn't approve it, Im still going.”

“Right..right..” Toji mutters, his attention effectively dividing between what you were saying at the way your cheeks jiggled slightly with even the slightest movements caused by you scraping the decrepit scrub daddy over the skillet.

He wanted to bite it.

Hell, he planned to.

As soon as you finished those dishes. Or perhaps as soon as you shut the hell up.

Whichever happened first.

“..talking about some..’oh well we’re very short staffed so I cant guarantee that I’ll be able to let you off that week’..let. Like she’s my mama or something. Bitch. I’ll call out and have her looking crazy. Anyway, what you thinking about for dinner?”

At his lack of engagement, you spare Toji another look over your shoulder. You find his hooded gaze fixed on you but nowhere near your face and you thoughtlessly glance down at yourself as if you already didn’t know what he was looking at.

“Toji….TOJI!” You laugh, and your boyfriend looks up at you again, blinking dumbly.

“Huh?” He frowns and you roll your eyes.

“Yo ass didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” You turn around to face him, rubbing your damp hands over a dry dish towel. Toji rolls his eyes with a grumpy sigh to accompany it.

“I said I was listening. Your PTO didn’t get approved but you’re taking off anyway. Fuck whatever Lauren says..”

“Lori.” You correct him.

“Lori. Laura. Whoever the fuck. Point is I’ve been listening and waiting on you to stop talking so I can bend you over.” He states shamelessly, reaching down out of your view to readjust himself in his pants.

Your brows shoot up in surprise, but his words make your womanhood jump in excitement and anticipation.

“Aw yeah?” You smirk, only for Toji to mirror you. In seconds, he’s on his feet and rounding the kitchen island to stand in front you. His cool green gaze pins you against the counter as he pressed up against you, his fingers already teasing at the elastic band of your shorts.

“Yeah, so hurry up and finish the story...”

[zepskies]

Love, By Any Other Name

Pairing: Castiel x F. Reader

Summary: You want him. Castiel can’t help but crave you. Dean sees both of you and wishes you’d stop being idiots.

AN: This is my first ever commission! Written for @girlsforpjm, who requested "mutual pining" with Castiel. Here you go, lovely! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 💜

**Also, this is set during season 12.

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, blood and injury, (contains events from 12.12), fluff, some spice, implied smut.

“Achooo!!”

Sam grimaces while he watches you wipe your nose against your bare wrist. You shake your head and frown at the dusty tomes piled high beside you. You and Sam have been organizing the library for two hours now.

“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” you lament. “I need a break. My sinuses need a break.”

Sam’s lips twitch at a smile. “It’s okay. I got the rest of these.”

You aim a lazy salute at your friend and continue to sniffle as you leave the library. You circle this labyrinth of a bunker for a while, but you can’t seem to find the trench coat-wearing angel that’s supposed to live here too.

You end up in the garage, where Dean is tuning up his Baby. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and he’s got a grease stain across his cheek.

“Hey, you seen Cas?” you ask.

Dean barely perks up from under Baby’s hood to answer you. “He went out this morning. Haven’t seen him since.”

You pout at that, leaning against the side of the car near where Dean is tinkering.

“Is it too much to ask for him to leave a note or something?” you mutter.

Dean finally glances over at you. His lips edge at a smirk.

“What, miss your little boyfriend?” he teases.

The insinuation manages to take you by surprise. Your face starts to warm in embarrassment, but you cover it with a scoff.

“You should know. He was your boyfriend first,” you volley back. Dean’s expression flattens in annoyance.

“Don’t you have anything better to do right now?” he snarks.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “P.” But you have mercy on him.

Instead of pestering him further, you just tip over the screwdriver he had balanced on the car’s frame. He makes a sound of protest as it falls somewhere between the gears inside his precious car.

He barks your name, and his angry voice echoes on the walls to magnify his frustration, but you’re already hastening back into the hall and down to the kitchen, trying to stifle your laughter.

You’ve slipped into the kitchen to escape. Yet that’s where you find the bunker’s resident angel, washing his hands of what looks like breadcrumbs in the sink.

“Hey,” you greet him jovially. He treats you with a small smile. “Where were you?”

“Oh, nowhere really. Just stepped out for a bit,” he replies. You get the sense that he’s hiding something. You smile and step closer to him, leaning a hand on the counter.

“Oh, yeah? Where?” you ask. Your eyes gleam with amusement. “Another ‘mission on high?’”

He sends you a droll look. “No.”

You tug on his sleeve. “Come on. Tell me.”

He smiles in return, and he gives you his own version of teasing.

“Childishness doesn’t become you,” he says.

“I’m just curious. You’ve been gone all day,” you reply, tilting your head. Your stare is unyielding, and familiar; Cas knows how stubborn you can be when you want something—especially information. Sometimes he finds it annoying, but in moments like these, it’s tempered by your playful, endearing smile.

“I was on a walk,” he finally admits.

You raise your brows. “A walk? Cas, it’s winter. Like 20 degrees outside.”

“I enjoy nature,” he shrugs. “The cold doesn’t bother me much anyway.”

…Well, he is an angel. You suppose it makes sense that he doesn’t feel the frigid weather like a human would. Your brow quirks with another curious thought.

“So you were washing your hands because…?” you ask.

Castiel’s face becomes a little more bashful. “I was feeding the birds some bread.”

At that, your smile grows. Here he is: Castiel, warrior angel of the Lord, Feeder of Pigeons.

“Well, if you ever want a walking companion, I’d be happy to join you,” you offer.

Castiel gives you a certain look, like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

Your lips purse. “What?”

He sinks his hands into his pockets as he leans his slightly hunched form back on his heels.

“Nothing,” he claims. “It’s only, I seem to remember you forcing Dean to kill a spider in your room. You claimed, and I quote, bastard things that crawl don’t belong indoors.”

You cross your arms and stare back at him narrowly, even though you try to stifle a smile.

“What’s your point? Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” you reason.

He raises a brow. “You also claim to have a vendetta against birds.”

“Pigeons, Castiel. They’re rats with wings.” Even Dean would agree with you on that one.

Castiel gives you a dubious look, however.

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your supposed love of nature,” he says drolly.

You want to argue more, but Sam enters the room with Dean on his heels. Both men seem to sense they’ve interrupted something. You clear your throat and turn to them.

“What’s up?” you ask, more nonchalant than you feel whenever you’re near the angel beside you. Castiel glances at you, before he too silently addresses Sam and Dean.

“Uh, we’ve caught a case,” Sam says. “It’s not far. Three dead, all with their hearts, and most of their internal organs ripped out.”

“Ech,” you reply with a grimace. “Sounds kind of like a ghoul. Maybe a werewolf on steroids?”

“Well, they were fresh kills, and it’s a full moon. So more than likely we’re looking at werewolves,” he replies.

You smile thinly. “Great.”

You hate werewolves.

Correction: you really hate werewolves.

The thought hits you yet again as you lay on the floor of a dusty old hunting cabin.

The irony.

Dean hefts you in his arms, after slicing his silver blade through the heart of the yellow-eyed bastard that tore you open with his claws.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, hating how your voice trembles. Dean doesn’t answer you at first. He holds his hand to the oozing gash in your side.

“Nah, you’ll be okay. Just hang in there,” he says. Blood quickly covers his palm. He curses inside his mind.

“Cas!” he calls out roughly.

The angel had been fighting in the other the room with Sam, but after he burns out the eyes of the last werewolf and its body falls to the ground, he hears the undercurrent of alarm in Dean’s shouting. With Sam on his heels, he returns to the living room to find you and Dean.

Castiel’s steps halt in the doorway when he sees you. His face slackens for a moment, but then he hardens. He moves forward swiftly.

“Move,” he says to Dean in order to come to your side. Dean’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told after laying you down to the floor. 

Castiel stares down at your face, offering you comfort with his eyes. You stare up at him in pain, but also with hope, and trust. You’re able to curl your fingers around the edge of his trench coat.

Then he presses his hand to your cheek. He closes his eyes in concentration while he heals you. 

Though he expels more power than he should to heal you completely. He knows it when his body sways a little after he’s done. Dean grabs his shoulder to keep him steady.

“You good?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods; he’s more focused on the way you’re catching your breath. You marvel at how your wounds, your pain, and even your blood is gone—completely washed away. He helps you sit up with an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Then he gathers you tight against him, so he can help you stand as well. He wavers again on his feet, just a little, but you’re too perceptive not to catch it. You realize he did too much to save you.

You still chide at him with a frown. “You didn’t have to use up so much of your energy.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Think nothing of it.”

Those are useless words, but you don’t bother arguing with him anymore. You just sigh and hold onto his strong arms while regaining your balance. You know for a fact that you’re blushing when you glance up at him.

Biting your lip, you soon turn away to grab the knife you’d dropped in the fight.

Without you or Cas noticing, Sam and Dean share a knowing glance. It’s subtle, in the way the brothers have perfected. Dean barely curbs a smile as he leads the way back to the car. 

You settle next to Cas in the backseat and try not to glance at him too often. You don’t know that he’s trying not to do the same to you.

Dean glances back at you two in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head.

Idiots.

Mary Winchester has been a welcome return to the family…when she’s here. Ever since Amara brought her back, she’s been distant with her sons. You don’t understand it all that well, but it’s not your place to say anything, you don’t think.

You do think Mary is a badass hunter. You just don’t know her that well.

About a week after the werewolf hunt, Mary drops in with Wally, a fellow hunter in need of assistance with a demon problem. You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are all game. While you haven’t had to deal with demons too much in the past, you know that they’re…something of a specialty for the Winchesters. 

But of course, it quickly goes to shit.

The demon lives alone, in some shack by a river where he likes to fish. The group of you wait until he’s stepped out of the house before you go inside and case the place, looking for a good spot to spray a Devil’s Trap or two and try to trap him.

When the demon returns, he’s far stronger than any of you anticipated. The Devil’s Trap breaks with little effort (the demon’s just laughing). Then he flashes yellow eyes. You and Castiel share a look of widening shock. Mary takes a preemptive step back.

And when the kitchen door is about to close on the three of you, the angel pushes you into the next room before you can turn and fight. Sam helps you back onto your feet, though you stare at the door in horror. He and Dean try to break the door down, but it’s no use. It’s supernaturally sealed. 

You felt useless standing there. You wrack your brain for a solution, and you glance out one of the windows. Maybe there’s another way into the kitchen!

“Guys! What if we go around?” you suggest.

With that idea taking root in each of you, Sam and Dean follow you outside. Before you guys can even make it around the house, Wally flags you down. 

“We’ve got incoming!” he says. And you realize what he means. A group of black-eyed demons are bounding toward the house.

Aw, shit. You’re grateful to have Sam and Dean beside you, because the demons nearly overtake all of you. You manage to hold your own, along with the brothers. Wally isn’t so fortunate. His body hits the floor after his own blade sinks into his chest.

A pit begins to form in your stomach as you scramble toward the Impala. The plan is to catch up with Mary; thanks to Cas, she’d been able to flee the demon strong enough to snap a Devil’s Trap like a cheap trick. But she’d then taken Cas with her to safety. 

Now, Dean drives the Impala down the road at breakneck speed. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks his mother through the phone. The car is silent enough for you to hear Mary’s reply.

“…No.”

When you step into the barn, the first thing you have to focus on is Cas covered in his own blood. He’s been stabbed by one of the demon’s strange and powerful weapons, and he lies on an old, dingy couch. You hurry to Cas’s side and take in, your face filled with horror, though you try and fail to mask it. 

You reach out a hand, but you hesitate to touch him. Suffering is written across his face. He tries to stifle sounds of pain out of habit.

Tears are fresh in your eyes as you look down at him in dismay. You chance laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“Can you heal yourself?” you ask.

“No,” he answers eventually. “I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I think I’m…”

No, your lower lip trembles as you shake your head.

“No,” you repeat aloud. “You just need time.”

You turn to Dean, who’s approached from behind you. But you quickly turn back to Cas, as if you’ll miss out on precious few moments. Castiel’s furrowed gaze tells you he’d rather not have you see him like this, but you don’t care. There’s no way you’re leaving his side. 

The weapon that was able to do this to him was the Lance of Michael, you all discover, when Crowley suddenly appears. He also informs you all that this is no ordinary demon. It’s Ramiel, Prince of Hell. You don’t give a shit about the specifics of how Crowley is wrapped up in this.

All you care about is if there’s a cure to Cas’s wounds. Crowley’s only words of wisdom are to leave the angel behind and run as fast as you can. 

He disappears before you can spit at him. 

“Cas, how bad is it?” Dean asks, after the King of Hell predictably makes a run for it. 

Castiel opened up his shirt collar to reveal a spiderweb of black crackling across his clammy skin, slowly breaking down his vessel. 

“Crowley’s right. You should go.”

Your hand tightens on his shoulder. “Cas—”

“No, listen to me,” he says, staring into your eyes. He continues with difficulty. “Look…thank you. Thank you. Knowing you all, it’s been the best part of my life. The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me… You’re my family, and I love you.”

His gaze had fallen on you, making your breath hitch. But his dark blue eyes travel to Sam and Dean next, and even Mary. 

“I love all of you.” The angel is the closest to tears and heartbreak that you’ve ever seen him. He struggles to hold himself together, in more ways than one. “Just, please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, and save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes the sentence. Tears pour down your cheeks in silent streams, but you still hold him down when he tries to force his body to sit up. He doesn’t have the strength to resist you encouraging him to lie back down. 

Dean voices what you’re all thinking.

No. None of you would cut and run and leave him to die, no matter what Cas says. 

“Like you said, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

Ramiel comes for all of you, specifically for his stolen weapon. Killing the rest of you would just be an added bonus.

But while the four of you manage to pin down the demon with holy fire and a good fight, it’s Sam who manages to stab the Prince of Hell with Michael’s Lance, killing him in flash of brilliant light and rendering his body to ash. 

Of course, that’s when Crowley arrives once again, late holding his proverbial Starbucks. In this case, what would’ve been a mocha frappe is actually the Lance—and Crowley breaks it in half. It somehow reverses the curse of the blade, and therefore frees Castiel. 

He’s able to heal himself back to a full recovery. 

But also, rather predictably, Crowley disappears again before you all can recover yourselves. 

Sam and Dean help the angel back onto his feet. His clothes are still covered in blood, but his skin is clear and no longer clammy, his eyes no longer bloodshot. He’s shocked to still be alive, and you can barely contain yourself. Tears stream down your face as you surprise him with a hug.

Cas releases an oof, his body wavering just slightly before he plants his feet and wraps his arms around you. His hold tightens around your smaller frame, and he chances resting his chin on the top of your head.  

“So…you’re good?” Mary asks incredulously. 

Castiel raises his gaze to answer her. “I guess I am.”

You’re quiet for the rest of the drive home. Mary had taken her own car for the hunt, so it leaves you once again in the backseat with Castiel.

He finds your silence perturbing, though he doesn’t have the courage to ask you what’s wrong. Despite his full recovery, you still seem upset somehow. 

Part of him wants to reach out to you…but he stops himself. He also reminds himself not to stare at you. Instead, he turns his head back out the window. You felt his gaze on your profile, but you resolve to keep yours stubbornly out of your own window. 

The only one who notices the exchange, yet again through the rearview mirror, is Dean. His lips firm into a thoughtful frown. 

Home, sweet home, you think wryly when you enter the bunker. 

You give into the urge to beeline straight for your room without even turning your head. 

Sam and Mary follow suit, which leaves Castiel hesitating in the hall. Dean takes pity on him and claps his shoulder. 

“You okay, man?” he asks. Cas is staring after you like a man who’s lost his way.

“She’s…upset,” he replies, both confused and bothered by that fact.  

Dean’s lips twitch humorlessly. “Yeah, well, you almost died.”

“Yes,” Cas gives a wry nod. “But she seems upset at me.”

Dean has to smile for real. It’s plain as day what’s on his friend’s mind, and why. Just like it’s obvious as hell (at least to him) why you’re probably “upset.” As always, Dean takes up the role of wingman. 

“Why don’t you just go talk to her then?” he suggests.

Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if he’d be intruding on you. The emotions of human women are foreign to him. They always have been, even when he was human, not so long ago. But he trusts Dean’s advice on these things.

So, he eventually nods. He means to follow you, but Dean stops him for a moment with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe after you, uh, wash your clothes. Take a shower. Maybe shave a little,” he says, brushing his fingers over his own chin. “But uh, keep a little scruff. Some chicks dig that.”

“Shave my facial hair, but…keep my facial hair?” Cas tries to clarify. 

Dean blinks at his friend. Christ.

 “Okay, look, just clean yourself up,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

With one last clap on the back, Dean disappears down the hall to his room. It leaves Castiel feeling somewhat unbalanced, but he treks the other way.

Normally he would restore his clothes with his powers, but he’d used up his reserves just to heal himself. There was a time when his connection to heaven was enough to do more than heal his own injuries. Now, however, both he and heaven itself are in a lesser state. 

Shaking his head, he goes down to the laundry room. He still remembers how to wash his own clothing. 

He unintentionally finds you there in the laundry room. You’ve peeled away your jacket that had been stained with his blood, and you’re tossing it into the machine. It leaves you in a thin shirt and jeans.

Castiel finds himself admiring your form; the familiar curve of your face, the shade of your hair, the outline of your bra through your shirt (which he tries not to notice), and the other curves that he has to often felt guilty for tracing with his eyes…and imagining with his hands.  

You look up when he enters the room.

He knocks himself out of his thoughts and freezes, a bit uncertain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers.

You just shake your head. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes roam over him then, from head to toe. It makes his face feel a bit warm.

“You want me to throw that coat in with mine?” you ask, pointing over to him. Cas examines his bloody trench coat.

“I’m not sure there’s any saving it, but we can try,” he says. He peels off the coat and allows you to throw it into the watching machine along with your bloody clothing.

“Your shirt’s white, so you should wash that separately,” you advise.

“I know,” he says, with a faint smile. “I, uh, I remember.”

You begin to regain some of your normal self, glancing at him with more warmth in your eyes. 

“Do you ever miss being human?” you ask. Cas draws closer to you. He rests a hand near yours, where you lean on the dryer. 

“There were some enjoyable aspects. Food, in particular,” he admits. “Now if I try to take a bite of a sandwich, it’s just…molecules, really.”

You wince in sympathy. “God, I don’t know how I could go through life without being able to enjoy another Snickers bar.”

He nods in agreement. He remembers chocolate well.

“But it wasn’t just the taste. It was the feeling of satiety. Sometimes, being uncomfortably full was quite satisfying,” he says. That makes you smile. 

But it soon drops when you take in the disgusting state of his shirt. Unbidden, it reminds you of every horrific thing that happened tonight. You really can’t bear it. 

“Okay, give me that,” you gesture at the shirt.

You start to unbutton it before he’s really ready for you, but he tries to get over his embarrassment by removing his tie. Meanwhile, you undo the buttons of his shirt while trying not to think too hard about what you’re really doing as you start to see flashes of his skin, from chest to sternum.

He takes a peek at your face. 

“Are you angry?” he asks. 

Your brows are furrowed, but this time more in confusion when you look up at him. 

“No. Why?” 

Cas’s brows furrow. “It feels like you’re angry…at me.”

The hasty motions of your hands calm at that. You consider him with a frown. Maybe you are a little upset at him. It’s not really fair, you know, but it’s how you feel. You blow out a sigh. 

“I just… After everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for us, how could you think for one second that we would leave you there alone? Alone to die?” you ask. It renders Castiel a bit stunned into silence. 

Your grip tightens on the now open edges of his shirt.

“Look, that situation was bad enough. But if you ever try to push me away like that again…”

You’re unable to finish that thought. You become waylaid by your own tears as emotion clogs your throat and threatens to choke you. 

Castiel raises a hand to touch your face, tentatively at first, then more comforting. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, catching the tears there. 

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” he confesses. “I was trying to save you…because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, even as I lay dying.”

You hold onto his hand. Biting your lower lip, you find enough courage to meet his eyes. They’ve lowered to your lips, you realize, though maybe Cas doesn’t. He seems a bit surprised when you lean up towards him.

You go more slowly. Your hand falls on his warm chest. For God’s sake, do something, you tell yourself. 

You don’t know if he can pick up on your thoughts as well with your bodies touching this close, but he seems to have an internal battle of his own. You each make a decision at the same time.

It has you leaning up the rest of the way, and Castiel bending down to meet your kiss.  

He gathers you closer; one hand finds its way into your tangled hair, while the other grasps your hip and brings you flush against him. Your hands move up his chest and wind around his neck. He holds you tightly against him as his lips claim yours, over and over with increasing urgency. 

He turns you in his arms and hefts you up onto the dryer machine. There he gets even more leverage to kiss you the way he has secretly imagined, to touch you the way he’s too often craved, with his hands warming up and down your thighs.

You utter a moan of longing as you hold his face. You like the scrape of his stubble against your palms. You can almost imagine that delightful tingling against otherplaces down your body. Places you’d like him to explore when you have more privacy…

Or maybe here is privacy enough.

You alternatively tangle and tug your fingers through his hair. And it’s his turn to moan when you take his lower lip between your teeth, scraping just hard enough to be both painful and delightful.

He squeezes your thighs in retaliation. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer. Your dirty boots cross behind his back.

But soon, his touch gentles, more tender than demanding as he slows the kiss. His lips veer from yours and burn a path across your jawline, down the smooth column of your neck.

It allows you to catch your breath, but the feeling of his gentle lips and rough cheek just turns you on even more. You card your fingers through his hair and close your eyes. 

“Cas,” you breathe in content. 

He hesitates, with his lips on your neck. “Yes?”

You blink for a moment, but then you have to giggle. You twine your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“Nothing,” you reply. Your smile says it all though. Cas sees it when he pulls away a bit, turning his gaze back to you. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I didn’t think feelings such as this…desires like this, would affect me after I became an angel again.”

Your smile brightens, even as you blush. “Does that make me special?”

“Yes,” he replies, with a soft smile. “But for many more, and far better reasons than that.”

Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You bite the edge of your lower lip, but Cas’s thumb swiping across encourages you to release it.

“When you said that you loved me,” you say, a little shakily, “did you just mean…in the family sense?”

Castiel meets your eyes, and there he finds his courage. 

“Yes,” he says. “And no.”

With another one of those smiles he’s come to love, you bring him back in for a kiss. All too soon, it becomes hungrier, rougher, born of passion and secret desires finally spilling free. 

“Wait,” you pant against his lips, taking his hands in yours. “Come with me.”

Anywhere, his heart says.

But after you jump down from the dryer, you tug him by the hand out of the laundry room. After a quick scan of the hallway, you give him a playful little smile and lead him down to your room.

Castiel can’t help but smile in return. He follows your lead in more ways than one when the door to your bedroom shuts behind you both.

You help him shrug off his tattered shirt, and he helps you out of yours next, followed swiftly by the belt buckle on his slacks. 

In that moment, and many moments after, you’re grateful for door locks. You just hope the Winchesters aren’t dumb enough to interrupt what you have planned next for your angel…

Because it might just take all night.

AN: I haven't written for Castiel in a long time, but I had fun with this. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 😘

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[erxxi3]

A Sloppy First With Carlos?

Pairings: Carlos Oliveira x Fem! Reader

Summary: You have been dating Carlos for quite some time and finally decide to let him claim you as his own, but it is more like some sloppy sex.

Cw. Smut (nsfw), p in v, praise, virgin reader gets their first time wit carlos, dom carlos?, some begging, needy/desperate reader, a bit body worship if you squint ur eyes just a bit, possessive & a bit of cocky carlos, relationship had already been established yet we skipping to the part of where he just gives u a sloppy first time just to enjoy every moment of him inside you! This man is gonna make you a milf after he’s done fr fr want u to be the momma to his kids. Some fluff at the end there is def aftercare but I got too lazy to write it….

A/N: I’ve never written for Carlos before, so this is my first time writing for him and feel free to give me feedback!

SMUT AHEAD!! MINORS DNI!

Carlos Oliveira is definitely a charming guy when it came to women, but that all changed when you came into his life. He became so tough and cocky around you and others that it made him the kind of guy who didn’t let himself be vulnerable in front of people. It also caused you to fall for him a little bit faster. That was exactly what you wanted. Someone strong, and not afraid of showing it. The only problem with your choice was that he wasn’t exactly someone to get along with very well and was even more of an asshole than he already was.

Not something you expected from a man like that. But if it meant you could feel secure in his arms, then so be it. You could live with any kind of attitude. If he just wanted to keep you safe then so be it. You wouldn’t mind at all, actually. You enjoyed being near him, even if it made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You thought his roughness was sexy, even if you were slightly scared of him sometimes. And as long as there wasn’t going to be too much violence in the future, maybe you would be able to handle things better. Just give him some time, yet It wasn’t like you couldn’t deal with the bad side of him.

I mean he could be a total dickhead at times, sure, but you could tolerate that, too. He still respected you, afterall, and that was what really mattered. As long as you were happy and satisfied in his arms. And you had been that all this time. All your years of dating with a guy like Carlos Olivera didn’t go wrong. He treated you right, despite your flaws and his ego.

His ego brings out the best in him wether it’s in bed or out of bed, so there is no doubt about what you saw with him in bed that night. He was absolutely gentle, but rough when he kisses you sloppily, his hands firm when they roamed your body, and he took his pleasure in making you squirm underneath him. His tongue is hot and insistent in licking every inch of your skin and his fingers are rough and warm when they caress your breasts through the thin cotton fabric of your tight dress. And his eyes. Oh, Carlos’ eyes looked as if they were dark pools filled with lust and possessiveness. Without hesitation he took off his pants dropping them to the floor, his erection already trying to poke out the side of his boxers. You tried to take his boxers off although he had prioritized in spreading your legs apart and placed his hard member between them, foremost, further apart.

Fingers had trailed straight under the waistband of your dress while his hands started ripping your dress off, and your bra followed. With quick movements he tore the straps and panties away leaving you bare beneath his gaze, completely naked from head to toe. His lips left yours. Carlos began to apply lube to his hardened and throbbing cock, before slowly inserting it inside you, setting a slow movement in and out of you in a way that was torturous in itself. You whimpered from the sensation, but his grip on your hips tightened making the pain go away momentarily. Sloppily beginning to thrust into you, his pace quickened until he hit a certain spot that made you scream with pleasure. “Oh, God...” you moaned breathlessly before closing your eyes.

You never felt that way with anyone else. This is not your first time to say the least, but definitely better than masturbation to say the least. It made you feel so incredibly sensitive that it left you weak, yet at the same time it made you feel powerful and desirable. “That’s my girl…” he growled in a deep voice, grabbing one of your wrists and positioning it over your head as he continued hitting your sweet spot with his thick shaft. You moaned again while tears filled your eyes from the intense pleasure he gave you.

Your breathing started becoming erratic as he kept slamming his heavy cock into you with such force. He held your face, placing soft kisses all over your exposed cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to appear on your flesh. “You feel so good, baby...” he whispered against your ear. Soon following after with, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum if you keep this up...”

“Don’t stop...” you begged breathless, feeling a shiver go down your spine as Carlos continued pumping his stiffening cock inside you. He kept pressing harder, making you cry out and bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from begging for mercy. “Please don’t stop….” You could hear your own voice quiver slightly, almost like a sob. In a moment you lost your restraint, and threw your head back, arching your back as you screamed loudly. A loud moan escaped your mouth as waves of ecstasy washed over you, and your muscles started tingling from his relentless thrusts into you.

He was getting close, you could tell, and soon he won't hold himself anymore. “Carlos…” you murmured, unable to finish your sentence because your breath was short and labored, and your voice was hoarse from screaming out.

You needed him to get you to your climax and come, now, now, now, you thought.

“Please..please…” you whimpered, feeling your body shaking with both excitement and desperation. Suddenly, everything came rushing in.

The orgasm. Carlos.

Your surroundings. Carlos’ name coming out of your mouth, His scent surrounding your whole being. You felt as if you were being penetrated by a monstrous cock very sloppily, even though you were. His warm and hard cock rubbing against your inner walls in time with his frantic thrusts. “Almost there… ah- hold out a little longer, baby…” Carlos grunted out of breath, panting heavily, his entire body trembling. Your breathing was starting to come out ragged as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you climaxed once again. “That’s it, baby… Come for me…” The next few minutes passed by in a blur, each second passing with such intensity it was overwhelming you. Carlos finally stopped after a while, releasing his cum inside you.

Your throat was sore and raw from screaming and your muscles were tense and sore from all the stretching, while your back was arched which he forced you to do as your climax hit. Carlos laid beside you and pulled the sheets up around you as he kissed your temple. "Are you alright?" Your mind was fuzzy as you nodded and snuggled closer into his chest. "...Yeah," was your reply, barely above a whisper. Your eyelids were glued shut, as you struggled to stay awake.

Carlos chuckled softly. "Did I fuck you that hard?" You shook your head and mumbled in reply that you loved how wild he got. "Mmm...you're welcome." After a while you felt tired and sleep began creeping onto your consciousness. Carlos seemed to sense this and wrapped his arms tightly around you to keep you warm as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. "Get some rest, baby," he said quietly. You hummed in response as you relaxed into his hold, letting yourself drift off to sleep.

You were so tired that you were able to ignore the sound of heavy breathing, but it eventually woke you up when the covers moved slightly. Opening your eyes, and noticing your boyfriend staring at you intently. "Hey...sorry did I wake you up? Go back to sleep..." he whispered kissing the top of your head as he ran his hands gently through your hair. You buried your face deeper into his chest, and let out a small sigh as you cuddled up to his chest. Carlos laughed again, running his hand through your hair one last time before turning off the light with his other hand and lying down behind you, holding you tightly.

"I love you so much..." he said softly, kissing the crown of your head gently.

"Goodnight..." you breathed out before finally closing your eyes and falling asleep, enjoying the soothing warmth of his embrace.

[puck-luck]

the adventurous one | dawson mercer

warnings: outdoor/public sex, unprotected sex, references to oral (f!receiving) at a later date, dirty talk, praise pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader request: "Okay hear me out but Dawson seems like such a nature lover and hiking guy. So could I request something where he and reader go on a hike by a river or something because Dawson wanted to show her but she doesn’t want to hike anymore (lazy girls unite) so she stops him for a “water break” and slowly she manages to get him to have sex right there. Completely public but also private? Please?" ABSOLUTELY! wc: 2000

“Daws, slow down,” you call, watching the distance between your boyfriend and yourself increase with each step. 

Dawson had invited you to go on a hike with him this afternoon in place of his normal workout. You had said yes because you love your boyfriend, but you were both all too well aware that he was a little more physically fit than you, being, oh, an athlete and all.

You had held out as long as you could before asking for a break, but you’re nearing a creek and it’s a pretty sight, so maybe Dawson will let it slide.

You sit down on a stone and dig through your backpack for your water bottle, gulping down the still icy-water. Dawson has turned around and is making his way back to you now, plopping down on another rock near you and stretching his legs out. 

“Tired already, baby?” Dawson asks, rubbing his shins and grinning at you.

You glare at him, bothered by his teasing. You take another gulp of your water, then shove the bottle back into your bag. “Not tired, just hot.”

“You always are,” Dawson says with a nod. He stands, then grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet. “Ready to move along?”

You groan, pursing your lips and looking up at him with a furrowed brow. Dawson mistakes your displeasure for a similar pose that you do when you’re asking for a kiss, so he leans down to peck your lips. He takes your hand and goes to pull you along, but you stay in place.

“What if I proposed an alternate workout?” You ask. “Instead of finishing this hike.”

Dawson chuckles a little, coming to stand in front of you. He ducks his head a bit and raises his eyebrow comically, like he’s listening intently to the idea that hasn’t even fully formed in your head yet.

You walk your fingers over his chest, teasing him. 

“It involves cardio,” you say, trailing off. You let your hand slide up his neck and into his hair sensually, then you smile at him. “Your favorite kind of cardio.”

Dawson laughs, twisting the end of your ponytail with his index finger. “How about we finish this hike and then, when we get home, I’ll treat you to some of that cardio?”

“Or,” you drawl, “You could fuck me right here and then we could go home?”

Dawson looks around. “Right here?” He asks. “In– on the trail?”

You shrug, batting your eyelashes coyly at the boy. “Why not?” You ask. “Aren’t you supposed to be the adventurer here? Why am I the one suggesting this?”

He’s got a silly look on his face, seeming suspended in time as he processes what you’re saying, and you want to poke his cheek to wipe the expression off his face. Instead, you push his hair back and scrunch your nose while he thinks, peppering a series of kisses over his cheeks and the corner of his lip.

“You’re dangerous, huh?” Dawson finally says. “And you hate hiking that bad?”

“Well, I only really said yes because I wanted to spend time with my cute boyfriend,” you say. “And since I’ve thought of a better idea than hiking, I want to spend time with my cute boyfriend that way.”

Dawson sucks his teeth, then his tongue pokes through the hole in his mouth. You can tell he’s relenting, even a little excited by the idea. He pushes you backwards, walking you off the side of the trail just far enough that you can still see the pathway, but no one can see you in the trees unless they’re looking.

“Right here?” Dawson asks, biting his lower lip and sliding his hands over your waist, underneath your shirt. “Right now?” He untucks his lip and kisses you, then lathers his lips down your neck. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pulling off his shirt and getting your hands on his sweaty chest. 

Dawson tucks the shirt into his backpack before returning to you, then pulls your shorts down your legs and tucks them away. 

You’re half naked against a tree, feeling much more vulnerable than you ever have been, and you feel very glad that Dawson isn’t moving to take your shirt off. Yes, you suggested this, but it was really a ploy to get out of hiking. You’re not normally this adventurous, true to your word that Dawson is supposed to be the adventurous one, but the thought of being in public does send a little thrill up your spine… in addition to the thrill from the litany of kisses that Dawson continues to leave along your exposed neck, shoulders, and chest. 

“Give it to me, Daws,” you whisper, pulling him up to your lips. He uses one hand to push his shorts down just enough that he can draw his cock out and wrap his fist around it. 

He pets his cock through your folds as he strokes himself to full hardness, letting the tip of his dick poke at your clit and stimulate you to the point that you’re dripping for him. The spongy head of his member leaks against you and helps spread your slick. He pitches his hips forward once he’s satisfied that you’re both completely ready.

“Have you been keeping secrets from me?” Dawson teases quietly. “I didn’t realize you love me so much that you would let me take care of you in front of everyone.”

“There’s no one here,” you reply, just as his tip breaches your hole and you let out a sigh. 

“But you would, wouldn’t you?” Dawson says. “If I wanted to fuck you somewhere way more public, you’d let me, yeah?”

He continues to push inside you with little strokes, teasing you as he draws in and out. He’s filling you, but he keeps sliding out with slow pumps. He’s waiting for you to answer, but he’s not stopping his movements. It feels far too good for you to do anything but moan, so Dawson continues to talk. 

“Maybe for another time,” Dawson muses. “For now, how about I make you come and then we can head home and I’ll give you another one?”

“Yeah,” you agree, clutching at Dawson’s muscles.

He hikes your leg over his hip and drills forward, covering you with his own body. His thrusts are short and pointed, hitting your back wall and causing your mouth to drop open in pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your tight walls around him.

You squeeze him as you near your peak, only intensified by the breeze rustling through the trees that reminds you that you’re in public and anyone could walk by. You wrap your arms around him, forearms sticking to his skin. One of your hands grip the waves of his hair tightly, tugging slightly with each thrust. 

“C’mon, babe,” Dawson murmurs. “Come on my cock and I’ll clean you up when we get home.”

He speeds up his thrusts, reaching his hand up your loose shirt to squeeze one of your tits. He pinches your nipple and tugs a bit, leaving you whimpering beneath him.

“I can feel you getting closer,” Dawson continues in a whisper, his voice filling your ear like a physical caress. “I want to feel you fall apart.” He sucks your neck, nipping at your earlobe. 

You arch up into him, his cock shifting inside you to hit your g-spot. You reach down and rub circles over your clit with your middle finger, your head tipping back and getting caught on the bark of the tree. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, sucking at the edge of your jaw. “Atta girl.”

Your moans grow high pitched and Dawson covers your lips with his own to make sure no one can hear you, even though you haven’t heard anyone else walk along the path since before you thought to entice him.

You come over his cock, clenching down on him as your body is riddled with shocks and waves of bliss. 

Dawson slows as you come, watching your expression change with the feelings that overcome you. 

When you recover, he’s back to sliding in and out of you, stimulating his cock just enough to stay hard but not enough to threaten his own orgasm if you want to stop. 

“What are you doing?” You groan, frowning and tugging his hair. “Go, Dawsy.”

“Go?” He questions. “Y’sure?”

“Want you to come too,” you reassure him, locking your leg around his waist and lifting the other to join it. Now, he’s pressing you against the tree to keep you in place and he’s reaching a deeper spot inside of you. You’re wrapped around him like an octopus and you’re grinning at each other.

“Okay, baby,” he agrees, starting to move again.

“Don’t hold back,” you instruct, and he laughs.

“Okay, no holding back,” Dawson says, then shushes you with a little peck. “You asked for it.”

He lunges into action, thrusting forward with a determination that leaves you reeling, especially after you just experienced such a strong orgasm. 

He’s quick and hard. He pushes you against the tree and it hurts a little bit, but not enough to make you ask him to stop. You want him to come, come inside you, give you something to clean up later when you get home and he puts his head between your legs. 

The thought of that draws you away from the bark that’s rubbing against your bare backside, turning the discomfort into intense pleasure as you resume your soft circles over your clit. 

Dawson is grunting in your ear, kissing you, holding you tightly and praising you as much as he can before going breathless. His hips are stuttering, bucking against you in an uncoordinated way that signals his impending orgasm. 

“Fill me up, Dawson,” you goad, scratching over his back with your nails, marking him up. You’ll look down at those marks when he eats you out at home and moan louder, making the same kind of noises that Dawson is making now as he crests over.

“Baby,” he moans as his seed starts to spill inside of you, filling you and warming you. He pumps his hips, letting his orgasm run its course. Little noises and pants leave his mouth, lips brushing against your own. “Yeah,” he murmurs, repeating the word as he comes back to himself and the pleasure dissolves. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you agree, rolling your hips a few times, then tapping his shoulder. “Okay. Get out. Time to go home.”

“But I like it so much in here,” Dawson teases, sounding faux-pained just to get on your nerves. He always does this, especially when you guys risk a quickie before you need to be somewhere or meet someone. 

“Mmm, well, maybe you can come back later,” you assure him as he slides out of you and tucks himself away. 

He uses his shirt to wipe between your legs before pulling your shorts up your legs, redressing you and kissing your stomach before coming back up to your lips. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you reply.

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back to the trail, walking down the part of the path you’ve already taken back to the car. “You really didn’t like hiking with me?” He asks. “So much that you’d risk getting a tick– which I’m going to check you for later, by the way– just to convince me to go home?”

“I wanted to work out with my cute boyfriend,” you remind him, swinging your hands between you. “This type of work out is much more fun than walking up a big ol’ hill.”

“I’ll convince you one day,” Dawson teases good-naturedly. “But you know, I won’t complain if you want to do this again.” He flashes you a wink and a big smile, a little skip to his walk that you match all the way to the car.

note: i'm still at work! this is andy from the past! i hope you guys enjoyed this fic and i can't wait to come back and be more active in a couple of weeks <3