#I just don’t want this pushing back me moving

[2kiran]

can we get some more of ghostface x top!male reader pleaseeeeeee 🥺🙏🙏

“Fuck, come on, put it in already!”

Ghostface whines in pure frustration, the little slit of his cock uselessly weeping, desperate for your attention. His gloved hands clench around the sheets underneath his tensed body, his head thrown back against the pillow as he gasps out.

You had two slick fingers rubbing against his walls, the digits gradually pumping in and out and effectively loosening his tight hole. “You’re going to bleed out if I do,” you warn, ignoring his sobbing protests as the pad of your index finger brush against a sensitive spot within him. Ghostface’s lean back arches off the bed, which has your free hand moving to weigh on his stomach to ensure he held still.

“Don’t be such a—mngh, oh God—stupid pussy. Fuck your cock into me, I know you want it,” Ghostface babbles mindlessly, his hips straining as they roll forward, trying to take your fingers in deeper.

To his disappointment and eventual anger, you pull them out and leave his wet hole pathetically gaping from the abrupt emptiness. Before his complaints burst from his chest, however, you align the head of your cock to his entrance and gently push it inside.

Ghostface’s thighs twitch, his legs automatically spreading wider as he squeezes around your tip. Though, to his surprise, that’s all he receives from you. His breathing grew ragged, puffs of air hitting his mask and causing the material to cling to his nose.

“What are you—?”

“Just the tip tonight,” You quickly hush, your palm soothing the tense muscles of his abdomen.

In complaint, he grumbled incoherently, beginning to slightly squirm in his place. This was basically the equivalent of you killing him. He wanted to feel your dumb, insufferable big dick inside of his tight, drooling hole; yet, you seemed to have no plans on giving what he wants. He whimpers shakily while he tilts his head to stare down at you, watching how you start to stroke yourself with only your leaky cockhead inside of him.

It’ll have to do. For now. Ghostface can only let out faint, pretty moans as he waits for you to cum inside of him.

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

taglist:

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@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[bunnybeaches]

141 s/o’s love language is bicep chewing

Price literally could care less. He’s been with you for so long that at this point he’s used to it. Whether it be laying in bed or while he’s working, you’re always nomming on that bicep.

”Honey I’m almost done I promise” John adjusts his glasses as he types away at his laptop in bed. He’s been working all night and frankly you’re tired of it, so you do what you always do. Bite on your favorite chew toy, his bicep.

“Oh dove you really couldn’t help yourself could you? Give me two more minutes” John just chuckles as you chew on his arm. Seems he’s just as stubborn as you are.

Now Johnny will chew on you right back. This man has absolutely no shame. Two playful idiots chewing on each other? sign this man up!! Will absolutely get turned on by this doesn’t matter when or where.

He’s wearing that shirt. That one compression shirt that hugs everything soooo perfectly. His stupidly perfect pecs, toned abs, and god those arms. Those biceps. You can’t help but take a small bite!

“Did ye just bite me?” Johnny stares at you with a dumbfounded expression before he’s tackling you to the ground. Chewing on your arms, soft tummy and your amazing thighs. “Don’t start a fight ye can’t win my love.”

Sweet baby Kyle doesn’t even notice you being silly. Thinks it’s something you do to calm yourself down. At the market? nom. Training? nom. Everywhere? nom.

“Baby can you hand me the list please? I want to see what’s on it.” Kyle looks at you but your mouth is on the bicep of his right arm. Not even chewing your mouth just gently resting there. He stops pushing the cart and moves to stroke your hair. “You ok love? The shoppings almost done then we can go home” He lets you chew or relax your mouth for however long you need.

Simon completely ignores you. You could bite him hard and man wouldn’t even bat an eye. Just like John he’s used to his silly wife’s antics.

Simon lets out the heaviest sigh you’ve ever heard. You really were trying to watch a movie (key word trying) and you decided you needed a little snack. No not that snack, your husband’s delicious bicep. Nothing not a word or anything after you bit down. Your husband just keeps watching the movie. Nothing can get him huh?

Anon i hope i did your ask justice! i accidentally lost it whoops

[heeluvv]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

pairing ᯓ nishimura riki x 8th member reader

genre ᯓ angst (?), smut

warnings ᯓ unprotected sex, humiliation kink (?), praise kink (slight), niki is a bit mean :(, etc.

natty’s notes ᯓ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the moment you step into the practice room, you feel it. the tension that suffocated the room, the energy in the room is thick. the others glance at you, then quickly look away, as if they don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

because niki is standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, gaze locked onto you like a predator ready to pounce.

“you’re late.” his voice is even, but there’s something dangerous about it. you shift under his gaze. “i—”

“save it,” he cuts you off, rolling his shoulders back. “get in position. you hesitate for a second too long.

“i said get in position.” you suck in a breath, quickly moving to your spot as he strides toward the speaker. he doesn’t bother restarting the song—he simply clicks play from where they left off.

“five, six, seven—go.”

you jump into the routine, body moving instinctively, but you’re already at a disadvantage. the others are warmed up, locked in. meanwhile, you’re struggling to keep up, your rhythm slightly off, your footwork sloppier than usual.

and niki notices everything.

“faster.”

you push harder.

“sharper.”

you adjust, but it’s not enough.

the song reaches the final chorus, and the moment you land the last move, the music cuts off with a harsh click.

silence.

your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, sweat clinging to your skin. the room is still. no one dares to speak.

“that was pathetic.”

your stomach twists.

“seriously?” he tilts his head, stepping toward you. “you skip extra practice then come in late to then show up with that?”

you grit your teeth. “i was trying—”

“oh, you were trying?” he mocks, raising an eyebrow. “that’s funny, because it didn’t look like it.”

your fists clench at your sides. you hated that he was humiliating like this in front of everyone but you couldn’t help to squeeze your thighs together, it was too much just from the tension in the air and the way he spoke to you—was too much.

niki is standing in front of you, breathing just as heavily, his sharp gaze locked onto yours. his expression is unreadable—part satisfaction, part something darker.

the rest of the members stay silent, awkwardly shifting on their feet.

then niki finally speaks.

“leave.” the single word is clipped, authoritative.

the others hesitate, exchanging glances, but no one argues. one by one, they grab their bags and shuffle toward the door, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on.

right after sunoo’s departure, the door clicks shut behind them, and suddenly, it’s just you and him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you like testing me don’t you, baby?” he grunted, one hand gripping your hips tightly as he drew them up towards him, thrusting into you so hard. his other hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling you back against him. his gaze was fixated on you through the mirror, the way you tits bounced every time his thrust connected to your body, or the way your eyes rolled back and mouth left opened as pleas and moans sounded out.

“f-fuck..is this what you wanted, huh? for me to fuck you so hard, mmh?” he taunted as he chuckled lightly at your state. your pussy clenching on his cock, his thrust slamming down in you harshly.

“you look so good right now…taking me so good, baby..”

“ni—ki! i c—can’t!” you pleaded, your knees shaking against the hard floor as his thrist did not slow down once. “what? already giving up..uh-you can take it baby..” he wrapped his hand around your waist, trailing it down to your throbbing clit. his fingers left small gently strokes.

“look at yourself baby.” he stated lowly, his eyes never once breaking away, he felt himself twitch inside and he knew was close to his high.”are going to be a good girl for me, baby?” he mumbled softly against your ear, unable to answer his question you bobbed your head eagerly, desperation evident as your body tensed.

“cum with me baby—” niki growled, his thrust sloping into you as he shot his hot cum in, not failing behind yourself as you milked him cleaned, your cum covering him whole.

“you did so good for me baby—,” he stated groggily as soft whined ignited from you.

“but i’m not done with you yet, princess.”

natty’s notes ᯓ pretty rushed i feel but i hope y’all still like it :)) also feel free to request !!

[fawnhart]

drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[greengoblinswifey]

Safe Haven—Hwang In-ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— The violence of the games leave you pondering—you don’t want to die a virgin and you ask the one man who you trust and who’s always saved you for help. Based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, he’s in his early 50s) mentions of death, mentions of virginity, virgin!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, fluff, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

The first time you met Young-il, he saved your life.

The second time, he did it again.

By the third time, you stopped questioning it.

The games were a nightmare, a twisted sequence of death where survival felt more like a borrowed moment than a right. But through it all, Young-il had been there, his sharp eyes catching danger before you even saw it, whether it be saving you from other players or having your back in each game. You didn’t know why he did it, but you trusted him. In a place where trust was a gamble, you took the risk.

Tonight, the two of you sat in the corner of the dormitory, backs against the cold metal bunks. Most of the other players had settled into uneasy sleep, but you couldn’t, not with the weight of potential death pressing down upon you.

“You should get some rest,” Young-il murmured beside you.

You shook your head, fingers twisting in the hem of your thin uniform. “I can’t.”

Silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. You glanced at him, taking in the way the dim lighting flattered his chiseled face. He was older than you, more composed, like he had seen enough of the world to understand it in ways you never could.

And yet, he was still here. Still surviving. Still saving you.

“Young-il,” you said as you took a breath.

He turned his head slightly, watching you. You swallowed hard, fingers tightening. “I don’t want to die a virgin.”

“I’m scared, what if I die? What if I die without experiencing anything. I want you to take my virginity,” you said, out of breath.

Something flickered in his gaze—surprise, maybe, or something softer. But his face remained unreadable, his body still. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease.

Instead, he simply asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That was the truth. You didn’t know him outside of the game, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that if this was your last chance to experience something human, something real, you wanted it to be with him. He made you feel safe and cared for.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said after he studied you for a long moment.

No hesitation, just understanding, exactly what you needed in the moment.

He reached out, brushing his fingers along your jaw, his touch soft, as if waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t pull away, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to do this because you’re scared,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered. “I want to.”

From your lips, he kissed his way down, trailing soft touches along your jaw, your throat, the slope of your shoulder. Every kiss felt delicate, like he was memorizing you in pieces. His hands remained careful, never pushing, always waiting for your silent permission.

When he reached the hem of your uniform, he paused, meeting your gaze again. “I want you to tell me if anything feels wrong. If you want to stop.”

“I will,” you nodded, your breath shaky.

Slowly, he peeled away the thin fabric, revealing your naked body to the cool air. But there was no hunger in his gaze, no rush. Just admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your waist, his touch sending warmth through your pussy. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring it, making sure you felt how much this meant—not just to you, but to him too.

His hands skimmed over every inch of you, his lips following, never leaving a space untouched. And when he moved lower, when he pressed one last kiss to your stomach, his voice was a quiet promise against your skin.

“I’ll take care of you, angel.”

He grabbed under your thighs, making your legs sit on his shoulders before he delved into the exquisite cuisine before him that was your wet pussy. “You taste amazing,” he murmured, slipping a finger inside your tight hole.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair as his efforts sped up and your cheeks heated as you heard the faint sound of your pussy wet and squelching. You prayed none of the other players could hear.

“T-that feels so good,” you moaned, softly.

Young-il moaned into your pussy as his tongue flicked your clit, the vibrations making you squirm under his touch. He ferociously sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue before slipping in another finger making you feel full and writhe in the feeling of your g spot being constantly toyed with. You clenched tightly around his fingers, slapping a hand over your mouth to contain your moans.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, staring up at you.

You complied with his request, your hands grasping his dark hair he had as he held you down and continued eating your pussy through your high. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mind became foggy and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.

After you caught your breath, he kissed you from your pussy, to your stomach, up your chest, sucking on your breasts then your cheeks, your lips then to your forehead, muttering praises in between. “So beautiful, angel. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

He pulled his bottoms down slowly, his hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen and you bit your lip seeing the large package he carried.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped, softly, staring at how hard, long and thick he was. If his fingers could barely fit, how would that? It looked like he would tear you apart.

“It’s okay baby, don’t be intimidated,” his deep voice said, “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He pumped his cock a few times, spreading the pre cum on his glistening head before hovering above you, his eyes on yours as he used it to rub all over your entrance. You moaned his name softly as he teased you, your body shuddering as he began slapping the tip on your clit.

“I’m about to start, it might be a bit uncomfortable at first. If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop,” he muttered, quietly.

You nodded slowly and took his time inside you, eyes locked with yours, watching every reaction, every flicker of feeling that crossed your face. “You’re perfect, made just for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. His kisses trailed along your neck and shoulders each one drawing soft, involuntary moans from you.

As he went inside you, inch by inch, your nails dug into his back, his big cock stretching you by the second. You couldn’t even speak, feeling the wind knocked out of you as he was half way in, pushing past the barrier inside your pussy.

“Are you okay, angel?” he asked, ceasing movement inside you.

You nodded frantically, jaw agape.

He reached between your bodies, rubbing slow circles on your clit as he began thrusting slowly. He hissed in pleasure as your tight pussy gripped his dick, each time he went in and the back out, he was soaked in your juices.

“So wet for me. Absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

He gave you time to adjust, to feel every moment as his hold on you tightened and when you whispered, barely louder than a breath, asking him to “go deeper”, his control wavered, and a new depth of intensity overtook him. His grip on you tightened as his strokes deepened, and his eyes darkened with a desire that matched your own.

You bit your lip, containing your moans as you felt him practically in your guts and he was only half way in. Soft praises slipped from him in between breaths, the words laced with emotion as he murmured, “You feel incredible, I don’t want this to end.” You didn’t want it to end either. Each whispered word made you feel seen, safe, protected, and deeply wanted, it was exactly why you chose him.

He stared into your eyes as he hovered above you, his voice a soothing murmur against your neck as he urged, “Cum for me angel, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” As your orgasm hit you like a truck, you felt the wave of warmth and release, the feeling having you in the clouds as though you were high on ecstasy, his name slipping from your lips in soft, whispers. Your entire body convulsed and his strokes slowed as he whispered gentle praises, his touch filled with tenderness.

As he watched you come down from cloud nine, his gaze softened. “You took me so well, angel. I’m so proud of you.” Even though he could see the tiredness in your eyes, the spark in his hadn’t dimmed. With a gentle shift, he turned you onto your stomach, drawing your ass up to him. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together, as he moved again, pulling you back on his cock, each slow thrust reassuring you that he wasn’t done cherishing you yet.

Holding you close, he thrusted slowly at first, ensuring you felt every throb of his cock and every gentle movement of his cock dragging along your walls.

“You’re perfect, my beautiful girl,” he murmured. When you let out a soft gasp, he grinned, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “You look so sexy with your ass in the air,” he said, his voice low. “Completely mine.”

You felt him lean closer, his lips beside your ear as he whispered, “I need you to cum on my cock again.” His hand drifted to your waist, holding you steady as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you said, overstimulation taking precedence.

He tilted chin to the side so you could look back at him, “You can do it, angel. Be a good girl for me.” His words were all the encouragement you needed, and as you gave in, squirting on his cock, his own quiet moans echoed with yours.

You clenched tightly around his cock lodged inside your pussy and it triggered his own intense orgasm. He bit down gently on your shoulder, thrusting slowly as ropes of his hot load filled you to the brim. “That’s it, take my cum. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m yours, Young-il,” you moaned softly, your body shaking from the intensity of it all.

Your heartbeat, once wild and frantic, had settled into something calmer. You lay there, still catching your breath, and Young-il hadn’t moved, not away from you, at least as he emptied his cum inside you.

Slowly, he pulled out, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your body, reminding you that you were safe with him. You winced slightly at the sudden emptiness, and his eyes flickered with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned.

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “No,” you whispered. “It was perfect.”

His expression softened, relief washing over his face. He reached for his shirt, and used it to clean you up carefully.

“You did so well,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knee, then your hip, then your abdomen. “Took me so perfectly. You’re beautiful.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, watching him as he continued to worship you in the quietest, sweetest ways.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed another kiss to your collarbone.

He stilled at that, lifting his head so you could see the way his gaze softened. “No need to thank me,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re mine.” A pause, filled with nothing but warmth. “And you deserve to be cherished.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could respond, he pulled you into him, wrapping you in his arms, tucking you against his. His lips pressed against your temple, then your forehead, then your nose. Sweet, lingering kisses.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what.”

You sighed, melting into him, feeling safer than you had in weeks. His fingers traced along your spine in slow, soothing patterns, his presence lulling you into something close to peace.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your lips before resting his chin atop your head. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And with his arms around you, holding you like you were something precious, something worth protecting, you believed him.

[yanderestarangel]

ೀ goddess of the night — sevika x reader ೀ

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 summary: Doing a striptease for a few bucks on her lap, you got more than just a paycheck...

♡┊TW: fem!reader, wlw, afab anatomy, body worship, praise kink, fingering, striptease, dom!sevika, eat out, fluff ending.

✎ this smut is a commission.

She had been watching you from the moment you stepped into the brothel—drawn like a moth to flame. You were the center of attention, a vision of honey and ambrosia, pulling in patrons with a magnetism they couldn’t resist. But Sevika wasn’t just another admirer.

She needed you.

You weren’t some cheap whore, no, no. You were royalty—an untouchable queen, a divine seductress meant to be worshipped. Every movement of your body was deliberate, sensual, never vulgar. You knew exactly how to wield your beauty, controlling each motion like an erotic puppet master. And the entire room was ensnared.

Sevika was no exception.

She watched, entranced, her desire for you evolving from a passing indulgence into an all-consuming obsession. When she finally approached, offering a drink, her voice was smooth but edged with hunger. She complimented your performance, hinted at her craving to see more—privately.

You teased her, claiming your time was too costly, too exclusive. But she didn’t hesitate. She offered more than she’d make in months, just for the chance to have you to herself. Doubts be damned. If Silco had any objections, she’d handle it. All that mattered was you.

She followed as you led her to the back, sinking into a plush armchair, the dim light casting shifting shadows across your body. Cigar smoke curled from her lips as she watched you, unblinking, taking in every curve, every teasing movement.

Sevika could die right then and there. She was already in heaven.

Then the music started.

Her large hands found your waist, pulling you close. The scent of her cologne mixed with the lingering tobacco in the air, the heady musk wrapping around you. Her tired, battle-hardened eyes gleamed as she exhaled, smoke curling between you.

"Beautiful… You’re fucking amazing… So hot…"

Her rough palms squeezed at your flesh, encouraging you to move, to grind against her, and you obeyed—pressing closer, teasing her further. She groaned, deep and guttural, her breath warm against your skin. Bills slipped from where she’d stuffed them into your lingerie, fluttering to the floor. And then, her cigarette slipped from her lips. She barely noticed as she crushed it out against the wall, too captivated by the soft swell of your breasts in her face. When you didn’t push her away, Sevika took it as permission. She leaned in, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your skin, murmuring between them.

"I’ve been watching you for so long… So fucking long, sweetheart."

Her left hand drifted lower, fingertips ghosting over your panties. She hesitated.

"Can I?" she rasped, voice thick with need. "I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. I’ll pay extra. I’ll pay fortunes—just to touch you."

Her fingers trembled, waiting. But when your needy voice gave her the permission she craved, she didn’t hesitate. Sevika groaned as her fingers pressed against your core through the damp fabric, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit. Her mouth found your breasts, sucking and trailing wet kisses over each one, her touch perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your dance.

And finally, she pushed the lace aside.

A sharp inhale. A quiet curse.

"Huh—Look at this pretty little thing."

She watched, mesmerized, as you glistened for her, your slickness coating her fingertips as you rolled your hips, grinding against her touch.

"I want to fuck you so bad, sweetheart," she groaned— "Fuck you until your thighs tremble." Sevika's breath came hot and heavy against your skin, her fingers teasing, exploring—but never quite giving in just yet. She was savoring this, dragging it out, as if committing every second to memory.

"You're already so wet for me... dripping. Fucking perfect."

Her fingers traced lazy circles over your clit, pressing just enough to make you shudder against her. The soft fabric of your lingerie did little to dull the sensation—if anything, the slight friction made it all the more intoxicating. You arched into her touch, your body betraying you, craving more. Sevika chuckled low in her throat, her amusement laced with desire.

"So desperate already? Thought you were the one in control here."

Her other hand, rough and calloused, trailed up your spine, gripping your hip as she pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together. With a slow, deliberate motion, she finally slid the damp lace aside, exposing you completely to her gaze. She groaned at the sight, fingers sliding through your slick folds, spreading you open. Her thumb pressed against your clit as two thick fingers teased at your entrance, barely pushing inside before retreating again. She was toying with you, testing your patience.

"Tell me how bad you want it..." she demanded "I want to hear you beg for it."

She leaned in, lips grazing your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Be a good girl and tell me."

Your hands gripped her shoulders, nails digging into the leather of her jacket, your body burning with frustration and need. You could beg—but something about the challenge in her voice made you want to push back.

So instead, you smirked. Rolled your hips against her fingers, forcing her hand deeper between your legs. That smile; She loved knowing how hot you knew you were... Sevika's nostrils flared, her jaw tightening.

For a second, she just stared at you—then, with a growl, she obeyed. Her fingers plunged inside you without warning, stretching you, filling you. Your gasp turned into a moan as she curled them just right, pressing against the spot that made your thighs tremble.

"Fuck—there we go..." she moan, watching the way you clenched around her, how your body responded so perfectly. "Knew you'd feel good around me." Her pace started slow but firm, dragging her fingers in and out, working you open, making you feel every inch of her. Her thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit, pushing you higher, closer to that edge — you whimpered, head falling against her shoulder, but she wasn’t having that.

"Nah, honey— I wanna see that pretty face when you cum."

Her pace quickened, her fingers relentless, and all you could do was take it—take her—as the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach, ready to snap. Sevika grinned, sensing your impending release.

"Come on... Cum for me, babygirl."

And when you finally shattered, shaking apart in her arms, Sevika just held you through it—watching, savoring, completely fucking ruined for anyone else... Marking you as perhaps the best orgasm you've had in a while. Sevika didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers slowed but didn’t retreat, keeping you trembling in her lap, riding the aftershocks of your orgasm. She watched you with something between hunger and fascination, her thumb still ghosting over your sensitive clit, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure.

"Good girl for me... accepting me so well..." she says soft, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. "So fucking pretty when you come."

Your breath hitched, body twitching under her touch, but she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

"Think you can handle more, miss?" she asked, her tone almost mocking, knowing damn well you could barely think, let alone answer. But your body spoke for you—hips rolling instinctively against her hand, already craving another taste of that high.

Sevika chuckled darkly.

"That’s what I thought."

Without another word, she eased you back against the plush couch, spreading your legs wider as she settled between them. Her fingers withdrew from your soaked heat only to be replaced by something hotter—her mouth. A sharp gasp left your lips as she pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, inhaling deeply as if memorizing your scent.

Her tongue flicked over your clit, teasing, tasting, before she latched on properly, sucking just hard enough to make your entire body jolt. Your fingers found their way into her hair, gripping the short strands as your thighs instinctively tried to close around her head — sevika growled, gripping your thighs in response, keeping you spread for her.

"Spread those thighs, little bitch."

Her tongue worked you over with slow, deliberate precision—alternating between soft flicks and deep, wet strokes that had you arching off the couch. She moaned against you, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure straight through you.

"Taste so fucking good.., you're a goddess..." she muttered before diving back in, licking into you like she was starving. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—your world had narrowed down to nothing but the wet heat of her mouth and the way she devoured you. Her tongue moved with agonizing precision—long, languid strokes over your clit, alternating between teasing flicks and deep, indulgent licks that had you gasping for air.

"That’s it, baby... So responsive… I could spend hours right here, just tasting you."

She sucked, slow and deep, her grip tightening on your thighs as she pinned you open, refusing to let you shy away from her hunger. Her groan vibrated against you, making your body jolt, your fingers tightening in her short, dark hair.

"You make the prettiest sounds..." she rasped, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh before dipping back down, dragging her tongue over your soaked heat again. Her pace quickened, tongue working in perfect, practiced rhythm—driving you higher, closer to the edge, until you were on the verge of falling apart all over again—

And then she stopped.

A desperate whimper left your lips as she pulled back, her mouth glistening, her expression smug and wicked. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand, then leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Without warning, her touch softened. She pulled back just enough to study your face, her dark eyes flickering with something different—something softer.

"Let’s get out of here."

Her voice was lower now, rougher, but not from lust—from something else entirely. She brushed a thumb over your kiss-swollen lips, so your dazed eyes met hers.

"I want to to know the pretty woman behind these curves... Let me take you somewhere nice. Just you and me— I'll pay for everything and also for your overtime, I promise."

Sevika leaned in, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, already reaching for her cigar. She smirked as she lit it, the glow from the flame casting warm shadows across her face. Flicking the lighter shut, she exhaled a slow stream of smoke, tilting her head toward the door.

"Come on princess... Your shift isn't over yet."

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader

POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover

Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)

Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Dean POV

Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.

And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.

Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.

Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.

Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.

Not some asshole from another universe.

The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.

The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.

Fuck.

His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.

Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.

It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.

Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.

He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.

He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.

Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.

He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.

He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.

That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.

Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.

Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.

It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.

However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.

But then Ben had shown up.

When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.

But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.

Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.

All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.

Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.

The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"

Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?

Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.

Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.

Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"

"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white.  He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."

Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.

"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.

"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.

"I'm kinda what?"

"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"

Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she hasn't made up her mind."

"But why?"

"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"

Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"

"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.

He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.

"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.

"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"

At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."

"I think it does."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."

"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.

"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."

But I do want her.

The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.

"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.

Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"

"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."

"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.

"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.

"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.

Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"

"Just leave me alone Sammy."

And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.

Reader POV

Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.

It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.

You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.

It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.

I have nothing to be guilty about.

You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.

Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.

Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-

You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.

You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.

In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.

No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-

The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.

Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.

But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.

Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.

You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.

Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.

Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.

Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.

Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.

Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.

At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.

Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.

Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?

The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.

It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.

You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.

You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.

But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.

You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.

Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.

Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.

You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.

Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.

You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.

The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.

What the hell is wrong with me?

When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.

But what?

He turns when he hears you walk in.

You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.

"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.

"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"

"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."

You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.

Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-

"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.

"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.

"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"

"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."

Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?

The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.

You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."

You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.

Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"

"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.

Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.

"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."

"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."

Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"

You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.

But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.

Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-

"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"

"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.

"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"

"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.

The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.

If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?

You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.

Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!

You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.

"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe." 

Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"

"No I-"

"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.

"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.

"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.

Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!

"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.

"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."

"But-"

"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"

His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.

Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?

"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.

"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.

"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?

Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.

“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”

Is he out of his MIND?!

"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.

"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together

"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"

You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.

"This is different!" He fumes.

"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"

Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?

You didn't think that you did.

Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.

"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight.  "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"

You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."

"I compliment you." He huffs back.

"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"

Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."

"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."

"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."

"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"

"That's not what I-"

"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.

His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.

You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”

Why is it a big deal?

“It just is!"

"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.

"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”

“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.

Who does he think he is? We're not together.

“That’s not what this is about-“

“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”

"It is my business!"

"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"

"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.

A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.

"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”

“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”

“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"

“I’m not trying to!”

“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"

The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.

Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.

Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?

Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.

But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.

"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.

"Thought what?"

"That you wanted me to-"

"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.

"Well-"

"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."

Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.

Dean pauses. "What?"

"Why after years of you hating me-"

"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.

"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.

It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.

"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"

"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"

You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.

Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?

"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.

Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.

Holy shit.

"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."

The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.

The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.

You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.

He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.

"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.

The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-

Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.

“What are you-“

“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.

His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.

You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.

You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.

But he didn't, he never did.  And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.

Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.

Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.

"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"

Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."

"Then why?"

He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."

"I'm okay."

"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"

"This?"

"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.

"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.

"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."

You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"

There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.

"No.”

“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”

“No. But-"

 You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."

Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"

"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"

His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."

Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.

"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.

You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."

"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.

"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.

"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.

Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.

Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.

"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.

"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone.  "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."

"But-" You try to say again.

Oh this is so awkward.

"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."

Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.

Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.

Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."

The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.

"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does.  It only makes Ben smirk wider.

Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.

"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."

"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."

Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."

"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.

The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.

The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.

But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.

Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."

Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.

Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."

"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”

Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.

And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.

"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.

Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"

"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.

"Just something come on-"

"But why-"

"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.

Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"

Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.

You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"

"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.

"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.

Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.

"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.

"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.

"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.

Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.

"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."

Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."

"Anything that I can do to convince you?"

"I can think of a few things…"

Ben/Soldier Boy POV

"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.

It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.

He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.

Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.

He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.

Fuck.

He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.

And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.

But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.

Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.

I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!

Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.

And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.

Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.

Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.

Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.

"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.

The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.

Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.

"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.

"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."

"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.

He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.

The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.

"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.

Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.

"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.

Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.

"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.

"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.

Because the person standing next to his desk was you.

This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."

But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.

The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.

He thought it was cute.

As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.

It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.

"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"

"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.

"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."

Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."

You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.

Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.

"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"

"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.

Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.

Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.

"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."

"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.

He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.

"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.

It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.

"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."

He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.

"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.

And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.

A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗

Reveal of the Poll:

🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.

💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.

Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣

Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!

Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:

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@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

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@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned

@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27

@funkenniffler

[kxtsukixoxo]

we should just get drunk and fuck

✮⋆˙ ft. keigo “hawks” takami

“rough day at work?”

he asked as he nursed the alcohol bottle in his hands.

“am i not allowed to drink for no reason?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, breaking your gaze from the TV. he shrugged and focused his attention back onto the tv.

“forgive me for trying to provide emotional support,” he faked a huff and rolled his eyes. you peered at him through the side of your vision. his annoyed look didn’t stay for long, soon enough a smile was back on his face.

“fine. I'm just annoyed today.” you admitted, pulling your legs up onto the couch and resting your chin on top of your knees.

“what, did your boyfriend not text you good morning?” he leaned in and laughed, nudging you with his elbow.

“kei, we broke up a month and a half ago. did I not tell you?” you grabbed the bottle from his extended hand and took another swig. His eyebrows knit together, aureate eyes staring down at you and processing your words.

“no. why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve beat him up or something.” He crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips together. His wings puffed behind him.

“Because I was the one who broke up with him. and it’s not like he cheated or anything.” you shrugged, pushing the bottle towards him. he stared down at the bottle in his hand and slowly trailed his eyes up toward your face.

“so what…happened?” he shifted his body to face you, arm thrown over the back of the couch. he was staring intently at you, golden gaze burning through your skin.

“i don’t know. just lost feelings I guess.”

the two of you sat in silence. keigo's eyes danced across your face, teeth biting down on his lower lip. you could feel your cheeks heating up, and not because of the alcohol this time. he reached over, setting the bottle on the coffee table. his unoccupied hand hesitantly made its way to yours. fingers wrapping around your own.

you were conflicted. scared that if you crossed that line I’d lose him. the man who’s been by your side for years now. yet at the same time, it felt right. the countless nights you’d fallen asleep beside him, the times he’d patched you up after fights. you glanced up at him, his eyes were flicking back and forth from your eyes, to your lips, and back up again. he leaned in, lips brushing against yours. you jerked your body away, hands pushing at his chest. a look of horror rose upon his face, eyes widening.

“i’m sorry…I thought you were into me,” his face flushed, a dusty rose brimming his cheeks.

“i-i,” your brows knitted as you searched for words. “it’s okay. I'm just-” his eyes settled on yours. you stayed silent, your lips parted as if you were about to speak.

“are you?” he cocked an eyebrow at you, egging you on.

“yes!” The word rushed out of your mouth. “but-” his gaze was still fixed on you, unrelenting. “i don’t know,” you sighed. keigo and you sat in a pungent silence. your teeth gritted as your mind blanked.

“for how long?”

There wasn’t even a single doubt about it. from the second you’d  met him you’d had these feelings, the time you’d spent together only made them blossom.

“since we met.” your words were muffled by your sweatpants, head now buried in the fabric.

“why…” he stopped. you peered at him from out of the corner of your eyes. he was chewing on his lip, eyes darting around the room. “why haven’t we…” his words drawled on as if the end of his sentence would never come.

“i like having you in my life and I don’t want to fuck it up.” you sat up, legs dropping off of the couch.

“you’re not going to fuck it up, what is there to fuck up?” his words hit you. you didn’t have an answer, you didn’t even know if there was one. “nothing.”

“kei,” you started, not knowing what there was to say. you felt your heart fluttering as you looked up at him. “kiss me?”

he leaned in, hand coming up to cup your cheek. he paused for a moment, looking you in the eyes before dipping down to press his lips to yours. It was soft and warm, the two of you moved in sync. his warm breath tickled your face with every exhale. you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, edging you toward opening your mouth. you complied. his tongue slithered into your mouth, colliding with your own, moving against the rhythm of his lips. his hand moved to squeeze your hip, thumb pushing at the hem of your shirt. you pulled back to catch your breath. your chest heaved as you struggled to bring in air. a small strand of saliva hung between keigos and your lips, breaking as keigo dipped his head down again, this time his lips began trailing up your neck.

it started out as soft, then slowly shifting to harsh bites and nips at your skin. soon enough he was sucking dark marks into your skin. you squirmed in his hold as he worked away, marking the skin of my neck. your fingers carded through the blonde trusses on his head, tugging gently as he worked. But he pulled away, breaking from your grasp. he worked the fabric of his shirt over his head,working his shirt over the maroon feathers on his back. He tossed the shirt to the side before grabbing onto your knees and pulling your body further down the couch. he was hovering over you, the once bright gold of his iris turned into small hints of medallion tracing along his blown out pupils. he pushed your knees to the side, making room for his hips.

“is this okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your knee. you nodded, biting down on your lip as you watched him lean down. his lips met yours again, the kiss much more hasty and needy than before. his hands began sliding under your shirt, cold fingers pricking your warm skin as the digits pushed higher and higher, stopping around the band of your bra. you pulled your shirt over your head, letting it drop behind you. he pushed the band of your bra over your tits, hands pawing at your nipples. he leaned in, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, teeth gently grazing the skin as he sucked and licked. you let out a sigh as his hand roughly tweaked the skin. his hips ground into yours, even through the fabric of his jeans you could feel his stiffening cock.

you whimpered as he pulled back with a loud pop. you grabbed onto his belt, undoing it and pulling it through the loops of his pants. he fiddled with the button of his jeans, wasting no time discarding them among the growing pile of clothes. his hands gripped onto your sweatpants, tugging them down your hips. you shifted your weight to help him ease the fabric off. soon he was back between your legs, grinding against you. you could feel heat pooling in your core. his lips attacked your neck. bruises sprouting from your skin as his lips drew higher.

“i can feel how wet you are,” he gently bit down on your earlobe. you felt yourself clenching around nothing. he slid his hands between the both of your bodies, cupping your cunt. he groaned as his fingers slid up and down your clothed core.

“stop teasing,” you whimpered, covering your mouth with your hand.

“as you wish.” he chuckled, pulling your underwear down your legs. you hissed at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin. keigo began trailing his lips down your neck stopping to suck on your nipples once more before lowering even further. he bit into the skin on your hip, earning a soft moan from you. he gripped your legs and threw them over his shoulders, diving in. his tongue flicked your clit. your back arched, hands coming to tug at his hair. he groaned, the vibrations causing you to curse as you bucked your hips into his face.

two fingers circled around your entrance before slowly diving in and slipping back out. his lips closed around your clit, and he began harshly sucking as he penetrated you once more with his fingers. you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he started a steady pace, fingers curling up as he thrusted. your toes curled and the muscles in your abdomen began to squeeze. a stream of moans fell from your lips. with a loud pop he pulled off and returned to flicking your clit. you body jolted, hips moving away from the stimulation. he threw an arm around your stomach, pinning you down.

“fuck! fuck!fuck!fuck!” you moaned, rocking your hips against his face. he thrusted his fingers faster, mouth moving away to bite down on your inner thigh. you cried out, thighs shaking as you neared your peak. and then his tongue was back on you, flicking incessantly at your clit, pushing you over the edge. your back arched off of the couch, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. your muscles lost tone and fell limp. you collapsed back onto the couch, chest rising and falling as you panted. your vision began to focus, your eyes darting to the blonde between your leg. he was pressing kisses to your thighs and soothing over the bite he left.

“lemme suck you off,” you slurred out through your labored breathing.

“if i don’t get inside you right now I’ll bust,” he pulled his boxers over his hips, cock springing free. pre cum already dripping from the tip.

“let me ride you,” you spoke, more coherent this time. He bit his lip and eyed you down.

“can’t say no to that,” he laid himself down against the arm of the couch and gestured toward himself. He settled his wings behind himself, crimson feathers splayed across the couch like a blanket. you moved to sit in his lap, pressing your lips to him. his fingers ran through my hair as he kissed back, his other hand squeezing my thighs. you pulled back, lifting your hips up and guiding his cock into you. he groaned as you slowly sunk yourself down into him, hands gripping your hips. you bit down on your lip as you gave yourself time to adjust to him. he pressed kisses along your neck, whispering praises into your skin.

you pulled out before slamming yourself back down onto him, starting up a steady rhythm. he cried out, fingers digging into you as you rode him. you called his name over and over until it was a jumbled mess, eyes fixated on his face. his eyes were screwed shut and a deep blush washed over his face. you settled my hands on his chest as leverage to fuck yourself harder onto him, unable to stop the cacophony of moans crawling out of your chest. his thumb brushed against your clit, causing your body to arch.

keigo was quick to pick up the lost rhythm, bending his knees to thrust up into you. you fell forwards against his chest, turning into a moaning mess as he continued his bruising pace on you.

“you like that?” He moaned, fucking up hard into you. you nodded, or tried to. your body had become consumed by pleasure, limbs becoming heavy as you lost yourself. you kissed his neck and cupped my hand over his cheek. your teeth clamped down gently onto his skin before pulling back and soothing over the bite with kisses.

“fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard,” he groaned. you whimpered, gripping onto his arm.

“In me,” you said next to his ear. he moaned and began using his hands to slam your hips down against his own rhythm. your body bounced against him, your insides tightening as you neared your peak.

“fuck, you’re so good,” his lips moved to kiss any bit of skin he could get his hands on. your toes curled and your muscles began to squeeze harder. you cried out his name, clamping down around him as you came, biting down on his shoulder. he groaned, hips stuttering as he spilled inside of you. he thrusted into you, riding out his orgasm before stilling. he let go of your hips and pulled you close, kissing your cheek.

“was that okay?” he asked, stroking your hair.

“you were amazing,” you grinned, nuzzling into the warmth of his neck.

“no I mean, was it okay that we did that?” He gripped your chin, pulling you back to look at him. he looked worried, lips formed into a thin line. but your only thoughts were how you wanted to lie with him forever.

“yeah. i really enjoyed it.” you pressed a kiss to his lips. his lips curled into a smile as he pulled you closer.

“i guess that means i gotta take you out to dinner then.” he chuckled. you could feel the rumble of his chest against yours.

“a little backwards but I’ll take it.”

[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: THE BEST MEDICINE

paige x azzi

word count: 5.6k

A/N: This is just a cute little fluffy prompt that a few people have given me. Didn’t want to not post this weekend. Let me know what you think 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

Azzi groaned as the sharp vibration of her phone rattled against her nightstand. Squinting at the bright screen, she barely registered Jana’s name before answering, her voice thick from sleep.

“Hello?”

Jana didn’t waste any time. “Your girlfriend is sick, and I swear I’m about to strangle her in two seconds.”

Azzi blinked, still groggy. “What?”

Jana sighed dramatically and Azzi can hear Paige coughing in the back. “She’s miserable but refusing to go back to bed or take medicine, snapping at everyone like it’s our fault she’s dying of the flu.”

Azzi chuckled, rubbing her face as she sat up. “Alright, tell her I’ll be there soon.”

“She better listen to you or we’re going to be in the portal for another point guard ,” Jana muttered before hanging up.

Shaking her head, Azzi threw off the blankets and got up to brush her teeth. She knew Paige could be the worst patient—stubborn, usually restless, and convinced she didn’t need help.

…

Azzi balanced the bag of soup in one hand and the medicine in the other as she pushed open the door to Paige’s suite. The room was dimly lit, and on the couch, curled up in a ball under a thick hoodie, was her very miserable-looking girlfriend. Paige’s nose was red, her eyes were glassy, and even from a distance, Azzi could hear the slight congestion in her breathing.

Azzi pouted dramatically as she stepped inside. “Hi, sickie.”

Paige barely lifted her head, her voice raspy as she mumbled, “I’m not sick.”

As if on cue, she let out a deep cough from her chest that sounded painful.

Azzi raised an eyebrow completely unconvinced. “Right.” She set the soup and medicine down on the table before walking over, reaching for Paige’s hand. “Come on, you need to be in bed, it's too cold out here.”

But Paige didn’t budge. Instead, she burrowed deeper into her hoodie, mumbling, “Too cold to get up.”

Azzi sighed, tilting her head at her girlfriend. “Paige.”

Silence. No movement. Just Paige pretending she hadn’t heard her.

Azzi huffed. “Alright, fine.” She reached for the bottle of medicine, twisting off the cap. “At least take this—”

Before she could finish, Paige suddenly shot up from the couch, the blanket slipping off of her and falling on the floor in the process. “Nope. Not taking that shit.” Her hoarse voice carried pure disdain as she turned and made a beeline for her room.

Azzi blinked, momentarily stunned at the speed of her popping up, before bursting into laughter. “Oh, now you have the energy to move?”

Shaking her head, she grabbed the soup and the rest of the medicine, trailing after Paige. As she stepped into the room, she kicked the door shut softly behind her, amusement still dancing in her eyes.

Azzi turned to find Paige completely cocooned under her blankets, only her head visible, her red nose and glassy eyes making her look even more pitiful. Azzi bit back a laugh knowing how sensitive Paige got when she was sick. She simply shook her head as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Come on, baby,” she coaxed, holding up the small bottle of medicine. “This is the only one that’s liquid. The rest are pills.”

Paige’s lips turned down into a deep pout. “No… it’s not tasty.”

Azzi snorted, unscrewing the cap. “It’s not going to be tasty, Paige. It’s medicine.”

Paige shook her head stubbornly, burrowing further into the covers. “Then I don’t want it.”

Azzi groaned, tilting her head back. “Paige, please.”

Paige hummed in response, her eyes closing dramatically, as if that would make the conversation go away.

Azzi exhaled through her nose, giving her a look. “Please, baby. You’re not gonna feel better if you don’t take it.”

“I am fine,” Paige mumbled, voice muffled by the blanket.

Azzi arched an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause you sound like you swallowed a cheese grater for breakfast.”

Paige cracked one eye open to glare at her. “Wow. That’s rude. You’re mean.”

Azzi smiled. “I’m just saying. You sound worse than you did in the background of the phone. And the coughing? Baby, it’s awful.”

Paige groaned, turning her face into the pillow like a child refusing to eat their vegetables. “I don’t wanna,” she whined, her voice hoarse.

Azzi softened, rubbing Paige’s back over the blanket. “I know, but you have to. Just one little sip, and I promise I’ll stop bugging you about it.”

Paige peeked up at her. “No, you won’t.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay, maybe not. But I’ll be really nice while I bug you.”

Paige narrowed her eyes, debating. Then, in a last-ditch effort, she tried a different approach. “What if I just sleep it off? I’ll feel better when I wake up.”

Azzi gave her a flat look. “You said that last night, and now you’re actually sick.”

Paige huffed. “It’s ‘cause y’all stressed me out when we were getting on the plane.”

Azzi laughed. “Oh, it’s our fault you’re sick now?”

“Yes,” Paige said decisively, crossing her arms under the blanket.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. “You are so dramatic when you’re sick it’s actually insane.”

Paige just blinked up at her, silently. Stubborn.

Azzi finally pulled out her wild card, her voice turning more serious. “You know if you don’t get ahead of this, you’re gonna miss a game.”

That got Paige’s attention. She stilled, her brows furrowing as she stared at Azzi. “…What?”

Azzi shrugged. “If you don’t rest and actually take something, this’ll linger. And you know Geno isn’t letting you on the court if you’re anything close to this tomorrow.”

Paige opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but no words came out. She knew Azzi was right.

A long, begrudging sigh left her lips. “…Fine,” she muttered, rolling onto her back like she’d just been handed a life sentence.

Azzi grinned, quickly pouring the medicine before Paige could change her mind. “See? Agreeing wasn’t so hard.”

Paige scowled. “I hate you.”

Azzi held the medicine out to her with a smirk. “I you too, sickie.”

Paige rolled her eyes but threw back the medicine quickly, making a dramatic face as she swallowed. She handed the little cup back to Azzi, shuddering. “That was disgusting.”

Azzi sat the cup aside, shaking her head. “You’re dramatic.”

She messed around with the rest of the medicine for a moment before handing Paige two pills along with the water bottle from her dresser. Paige took them with much less resistance, swallowing them with ease.

Azzi smiled. “Good girl.”

Paige shot her a glare. “Don’t.”

Azzi smirked but ignored her, moving to the bag she brought with her. “I got you soup.”

At this, Paige’s attention turned toward Azzi’s movements, watching as she pulled out the container and tried to hand it to her. But instead of taking it, Paige mumbled, “Can you feed me?”

Azzi gave her a look. “Your arms still work.”

Paige pouted dramatically. “You have to be nice to me. I’m sick.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows, amused. “Oh, so you admit it now?”

Paige sighed, sinking further into the blanket with a pout. “Only if it’ll get you to feed me.”

Azzi groaned but still got up to grab a spoon. “You’re so lucky I kinda like you.”

Paige grinned triumphantly, sitting up a little and scooting over to make room for Azzi on the bed. Azzi shook her head as she sat beside her, opening the soup container.

“Alright, big head. Open up,” she teased, holding up the spoon.

Paige just smirked. “See? Was being nice so hard? No hurry, I’m starving.”

Azzi shot Paige a look, and just like that, Paige’s smirk disappeared. She sat up a little straighter as Azzi lifted the spoon to her lips.

As soon as the soup touched her tongue, Paige flinched, mumbling, “Too hot.”

Azzi sighed, pulling the spoon back. “Maybe if you weren’t rushing me—”

“I’m starving!” Paige interrupted, slumping back into the pillows.

Azzi rolled her eyes but blew on the next spoonful before holding it out. “Better?”

Paige took the bite, nodding in satisfaction. “Mhm. See? This is what good girlfriends do.”

Azzi snorted. “Oh, so now I’m a good girlfriend?”

Paige batted her eyelashes. “The best.”

Azzi chuckled, scooping up another spoonful and blowing on it again. “Uh-huh. You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

Paige grinned lazily. “And it’s working.”

Azzi shook her head, amused, as she carefully fed Paige another bite. “You are so spoiled.”

Paige hummed contentedly. “I sure am.”

Azzi gave her a look. “And if I weren’t here?”

Paige blinked at her innocently. “Jana.”

Azzi nearly choked on a laugh. “Jana said she was about to strangle you.”

Paige shrugged. “She doesn’t mean that. She s me.”

“Oh, she definitely meant it.”

Paige stuck her tongue out before lazily leaning against Azzi’s shoulder. “Mmm, don’t want anymore.”

Azzi glanced at the half-full container. “You barely ate anything.”

Paige sighed dramatically. “That’s all my body can handle.”

Azzi gave her a flat look. “Paige.”

Paige nuzzled further into Azzi’s side, her voice growing sleepier. “Mmm. Just wanna lay here with you.”

Azzi sighed, setting the soup aside. “You’re lucky I you.”

Paige smiled as she whispered, “I know. Super lucky.”

Azzi set the soup container on the dresser and gave Paige a soft smile as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. She knew Paige always liked to feel her skin when she was sick—said it brought comfort.

Paige, already settled on the bed, instinctively shifted closer, her body curling against Azzi's side as Azzi laid down. Without hesitation, Paige pressed her cheek to Azzi’s chest, content with the warmth. Azzi wrapped an arm around her, running her fingers gently through Paige’s messy hair.

The room fell into a peaceful silence for a while, broken only by the soft rhythm of their breathing. Azzi’s fingers moved lazily, threading through Paige’s hair as she murmured, “You always like it when I do this, huh? You close your big mouth every time.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Paige hummed lazily, her voice muffled against Azzi’s skin. “It’s... soothing.”

Azzi smiled, the warmth in her chest deepening. “It’s a nice change of pace from you being so dramatic.”

Paige let out a little whine, shifting to nestle further into Azzi’s chest. “I’m not dramatic. I just feel crappy.”

Azzi laughed quietly. “Baby you’re the drama queen of our relationship. I’ve had to deal with that for a while now. Not just when you’re sick.”

Paige lifted her head slightly to send Azzi a sleepy, half-lidded glare. “You still like me anyway so,” she muttered, but there was a smile tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion in her voice.

Azzi chuckled, running her fingers down the back of Paige’s neck. “I do, I do. But I swear, every time you get sick, you act like you’re dying or somebody killed our dog .”

Paige pouted, clearly not having the energy for a witty retort. “I might be dying,” she grumbled softly. “You never know with these things...”

Azzi rolled her eyes, shifting so that Paige was more comfortably nestled against her. “You’re not dying. You just need to rest and maybe close your mouth for once.”

Paige sighed, her breath soft against Azzi’s skin. “I hate being sick. I just wanna feel better already.”

Azzi smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I know, baby. But you’re going to get better.”

Paige stayed silent for a few moments, just breathing in the comfort of Azzi’s warmth, her eyelids fluttering. After a while, she mumbled, “You’re nice to me when I’m sick.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully. “I’m always nice to you.”

Paige shook her head, burrowing her face further into Azzi’s chest. “No... not always,” she murmured, clearly fighting sleep. “Sometimes you’re mean.”

Azzi laughed softly, a sound filled with the kind of affection she only had for Paige. “Am I? How so?”

Paige’s voice was so quiet now, almost a whisper. “You make fun of me when I’m weak...”

Azzi paused, her smile softening. She ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, feeling the weight of the words sink in. “You’re not weak, Paige. You’re just... human. And I love you no matter what.”

Paige let out a small, content sigh, the fight to stay awake slipping away. “I love you too.”

Azzi’s heart melted at the softness in Paige’s words. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s forehead. “I know beautiful.”

Paige shifted slightly, eyes fluttering open for a second. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” she said, her words a little slurred from drowsy medicine. “I’m just... sleepy.”

Azzi smiled fondly at her. “You’re so cute when you’re delirious.”

Paige gave a half-hearted protest, but it was obvious her energy was spent. “I’m not delirious... I’m just...” She trailed off, her words losing meaning as her eyes began to drift shut again.

Azzi smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face. “Just what?” she teased softly, though she knew Paige wasn’t going to respond with anything of value.

Paige’s voice, now more muffled as she nuzzled into Azzi’s chest, barely made it out. “I’m just... not sick anymore... after a nap.”

Azzi chuckled quietly, stroking Paige’s hair again. “Yeah, right.”

Paige’s breathing had slowed to a peaceful rhythm, and Azzi could feel the weight of her body relax further. Azzi held her closer, whispering, “Get some rest, baby. I’m right here.”

Paige let out a tiny, satisfied sound, and her body finally stilled in the comfort of Azzi’s embrace.

Azzi massaged her head for a few more minutes, watching Paige’s steady breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest. She kissed the top of Paige’s head once more and whispered, “I love you.”

A soft snore was the only response, and Azzi smiled softly as she closed her eyes.

…

Azzi had been lying there awake for a while, absentmindedly running her fingers through Paige’s hair as she slept. It was now pretty late in the day and the room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of the blankets as Paige shifted against her. At first, Azzi thought nothing of how much she was moving—Paige had been exhausted, and it was normal for her to move a little in her sleep.

But as time passed, Azzi started to notice something was off. Paige was shifting more, her breathing had grown uneven. Her forehead lying on Azzi’s chest, which had been warm before, was now burning up.

Azzi furrowed her brows, brushing her fingers across Paige’s damp hairline. Paige was practically sweating through her shirt, her skin sticky with heat. Azzi tried soothing her again, running gentle fingers through Paige’s hair, whispering softly.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Just relax.”

For a moment, Paige stilled, melting back into Azzi’s chest. But soon enough, she started shifting again, her face scrunching up in discomfort, her body restless.

Azzi let out a quiet sigh, brushing the damp strands of hair away from Paige’s forehead before leaning down to press a soft kiss against it. “You’re burning up,” she murmured.

Paige let out a small whimper in her sleep, turning her head slightly, but she didn’t wake.

Azzi frowned, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Paige’s back before finally deciding it was time to wake her up. She tightened her arm around Paige slightly and nudged her gently. “Paige, baby, wake up.”

Paige groaned in protest, her body still heavy.

Azzi kissed her temple before whispering again, this time a little firmer. “Come on, sickie. You’re overheating.”

Paige mumbled something incoherent, her voice thick with exhaustion, but Azzi could feel how warm she was. She needed to cool her down.

Azzi sighed, rubbing small circles into Paige’s damp back under the hoodie. “Paige. Wake up for me please, baby.”

This time, Paige stirred a little more, blinking sluggishly as she let out a tired, hoarse sound. “Mm... wha’?”

Azzi brushed a hand across her cheek, feeling the heat radiating off her skin. “You’re too hot, love. You need to take off your hoodie and drink some water.”

Paige groaned, burying her face back into Azzi’s chest like a stubborn child. “Don’t wanna baby,” she murmured with her raspy voice before letting out some awful sounding coughs.

Azzi let out a soft laugh despite her concern. “I know, baby, but you’re basically cooking in this hoodie.” She nudged Paige’s shoulder lightly. “Come on, let’s get it off, and I’ll grab you some cold water.”

Paige made another sleepy, reluctant sound but finally, slowly, peeled herself away from Azzi’s chest that was a little damp from where Paige was laying. She blinked at her through heavy, glassy eyes before weakly lifting her arms. “You do it please.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as she sat up slightly, carefully tugging the hoodie and shirt over Paige’s head. It was damp from her sweat, which only made Azzi more certain that Paige needed to cool off.

“There,” Azzi murmured, balling up the hoodie and tossing it to the floor before reaching for the water bottle on the nightstand. She unscrewed the cap and held it out. “Drink some.”

Paige took the bottle with sluggish movements, taking a few small sips before sighing and leaning back against Azzi’s chest. “Still hot,” she mumbled.

Azzi smirked, pressing a kiss to Paige’s temple. “Yeah, you are.”

Paige let out a weak laugh, swatting lazily at Azzi’s arm. “Shut up.”

Azzi smirked, brushing her fingers along Paige’s warm cheek. “Do you wanna shower?” she asked gently.

Paige let out a sleepy hum in response, her eyes barely open.

Azzi took that as a yes, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s temple before murmuring, “Okay, just lay down for a little longer. I’ll get everything ready.”

As she slid out of bed, Paige immediately curled back into the blankets, making herself small against the pillows. Azzi shook her head fondly before heading to the dresser, pulling out a pair of soft boxers and one of Paige’s favorite shirts for her to wear after the shower.

With the clothes in hand, she made her way out of the room, only to be met by Aubrey lingering near the hallway.

“Are you almost done playing nurse?” Aubrey said her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. “I miss my bookie and I need a hug.”

Azzi rolled her eyes as she passed by. “I’ll kick your knee in Aubrey.”

Aubrey snorted, shaking her head as Azzi disappeared into the bathroom.

Once inside, Azzi set the clothes down and turned on the shower, letting the water heat up. She reached for a eucalyptus shower steamer, unwrapping it before placing it under the stream, watching as it started to dissolve, releasing its scent into the air. The steam quickly filled the bathroom, curling into the air as the eucalyptus aroma spread.

Satisfied with the setup, Azzi grabbed a fresh towel and hung it within reach before heading back to Paige’s room.

She stopped in the doorway, biting back a laugh when she saw Paige had fallen asleep again. She was sprawled out on the bed, her head barely peeking from the blankets, looking utterly exhausted.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head as she pulled out her phone. She took a quick picture, a smirk tugging at her lips. Paige is definitely going to kill her for that later.

Throwing her phone on the dresser, she stepped forward and gently brushed a few damp strands of hair from Paige’s forehead.

“Paige, baby, wake up,” she murmured softly.

Paige stirred, her nose scrunching up as she let out a sleepy groan. “Five more minutes please,” she mumbled.”

Azzi chuckled, brushing her thumb across Paige’s warm cheek. “You literally just agreed to shower. Don’t start backtracking now.”

Paige sighed dramatically but slowly blinked up at her, her blue glassy eyes still heavy. “Mmm, but I was so comfy.”

Azzi grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I know, baby, but you’re all sweaty. You’ll feel better after, I promise.”

Paige pouted but didn’t argue this time, instead letting Azzi help her sit up. As soon as she was upright, she let her head fall onto Azzi’s shoulder with a quiet sigh.

“You’re too good to me,” she murmured.

Azzi smiled, her hand rubbing slow, gentle circles along Paige’s back. “Yeah, yeah. Now come on, before you fall asleep again.”

Paige hummed in response but allowed Azzi to help her up, leaning into her warmth as they made their way to the bathroom together.

Azzi leaned against the sink, arms crossed as she watched Paige sluggishly step into the shower. The steam curled around her, and for a second, Paige just stood under the spray, her shoulders sagging in relief.

But then she turned, blinking at Azzi before sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Come in with me.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “This shower’s supposed to be for you.”

Paige pouted deeper, her glassy eyes now wide as she leaned against the shower wall dramatically. “M’ too weak. I can’t. I need help,” she said while attempting her best puppy dog eyes.

Azzi scoffed. “Nice try, baby—”

Paige sniffled, her lip trembling slightly as she kept her gaze locked on Azzi. With her damp hair sticking to her forehead and her flushed cheeks, she somehow looked even more pitiful than Azzi thought was possible.

Azzi groaned, already feeling herself cave. “You are so damn manipulative.”

Paige only blinked innocently.

Sighing in defeat, Azzi shook her head. “Fine, fine.” She tugged off her clothes, grabbing a hair tie from the counter and quickly twisting her hair up into a bun. “But I swear, if you try anything, I’m leaving you in here.”

Paige barely reacted, her arms already reaching for Azzi as she stepped in.

The second Azzi was in the shower fully, Paige latched onto her, her arms winding tight around Azzi’s waist as she buried her face in her neck.

Azzi huffed a laugh, wrapping her arms loosely around Paige in return. “How am I supposed to help you if you’re latched onto me like this?”

Paige mumbled something against her shoulder, her voice barely audible over the water.

Azzi sighed, rubbing a slow hand up and down Paige’s back. “What was that?”

Paige nuzzled closer, her breath warm against Azzi’s skin. “Just five minutes,” she mumbled sleepily.

Azzi shook her head with a small smile, resting her cheek against the top of Paige’s damp hair. “Whatever.”

Paige’s “five minutes” had turned into something much longer, and Azzi was almost certain she had dozed off for a moment. At one point her breathing had slowed, and she even swayed slightly, forcing Azzi to tighten her hold to keep her upright.

Eventually, Azzi sighed, pressing a kiss to Paige’s damp forehead. “Alright, sickie, time to actually shower.”

Paige groaned, not lifting her head from Azzi’s shoulder. “M’tired.”

Azzi laughed softly. “Yeah, I noticed.” She reached for the shampoo, squeezing some into her hands before gently lathering it into Paige’s hair. Paige hummed at the sensation, her body still slack against Azzi’s.

“Y’know,” Azzi started, working the shampoo through Paige’s blonde hair, “I think you might be the neediest sick person on earth.”

Paige, eyes still closed, barely reacted. “Not true.”

Azzi chuckled. “You literally manipulated me into showering with you.”

Paige cracked one eye open. “I was using my resources.”

Azzi snorted, shaking her head as she scrubbed her fingers along Paige’s scalp. “You’re unreal.”

Paige let out a quiet sigh, tilting her head slightly into Azzi’s touch. “Feels nice.”

Azzi smiled softly, her fingers slowing as she massaged gently. “Good.”

For a few minutes, they stayed like that, talking in quiet murmurs as Azzi washed Paige’s hair. But when Azzi reached for the showerhead to rinse, she suddenly burst out laughing.

Paige frowned, eyes barely open. “What?”

Azzi pointed. “Your nose is running. You look so cute.”

Paige blinked, reaching up sluggishly to swipe at it. She let out a dramatic whine, turning her face into Azzi’s shoulder. “Stop laughing at me. You’re being mean.”

Azzi, still chuckling, rubbed soothing circles on Paige’s back. “I’m literally washing your hair. How am I being mean?”

Paige huffed, but she didn’t argue, her arms tightening around Azzi’s waist.

Once Azzi finished rinsing Paige’s hair, she repeated the process with the conditioner, her fingers gliding gently through the strands. Paige, still half-asleep, barely moved, only murmuring a quiet “thank you” as Azzi worked.

When her hair was fully washed, Azzi grabbed the loofah, squeezing some soap onto it before handing it to Paige. “Alright, drama queen, last step.”

Paige took it with both hands, blinking at it as if it weighed a hundred pounds and Azzi was asking her to do the impossible. Azzi smiled as she watched Paige sluggishly drag it across her arm, her movements slow and lazy.

Shaking her head fondly, Azzi leaned against the shower wall, watching Paige struggle through her own shower routine. “You’re adorable.”

Paige shot her a tired glare, but it held no real heat. “M’not. I’m sexy.”

Azzi grinned. “You sure are, baby.”

Paige rolled her eyes weakly as she continued to wash herself.

As soon as they stepped out of the shower a bit later, Paige grabbed a towel, rubbing it over her damp skin before letting out a pitiful sigh. “Baby…”

Azzi, already drying off, glanced over. “What?”

Paige’s bottom lip jutted out just a little. “Lotion me.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head as she reached for the bottle even as she said, “No.”

Paige grinned, completely unbothered. “You will because you love me.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath as she squirted lotion into her hands, rubbing them together before kneeling in front of Paige. “Alright, princess, hold still.”

Paige hummed happily, choosing to ignore the nickname, as Azzi smoothed the lotion over her legs, then up her arms and shoulders. When Azzi got to her back, she let out a small sigh, enjoying the feeling of Azzi’s hands working gently against her skin.

Azzi, however, was mumbling the whole time. “You’re so lucky I swear. What kind of grown woman begs to be lotioned?”

Paige, grinning, tilted her head back dramatically. “A very smart one.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but continued, making sure Paige was moisturized before finally stepping back. “There. Happy?”

Paige smiled, grabbing her boxers and shirt. “Very.”

As she pulled her clothes on, she reached for the towel, handing it to Azzi. “Here. Since someone forgot to bring clothes in here.”

Azzi snatched the towel with narrowed eyes. “Someone was too busy taking care of their needy girlfriend and I was even supposed to get in with you.”

Paige just shot her a smug look before walking out of the bathroom.

Azzi followed, wrapping the towel around herself as they made their way back to the room. As soon as they stepped inside, Paige flopped onto the bed, lazily watching as Azzi grabbed her own lotion and began rubbing it onto her arms and legs.

A slow smirk spread across Paige’s lips. “Damn.”

Azzi raised a brow. “What?”

Paige’s eyes flickered over her, gaze appreciative. “You just look good doing that.”

Azzi huffed, shaking her head as she continued. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Just being honest.”

Azzi ignored her, finishing up before slipping on some clothes. But as soon as she was dressed, she made her way to the nightstand, grabbing the medicine with a smug grin.

Paige’s smile immediately dropped.

Azzi turned, shaking the bottle with a huge smile. “Time for round two.”

Paige groaned, flopping back onto the bed dramatically. “I hate you.”

Azzi smirked, walking over. “No, you don’t.”

Paige peeked her eyes open, already pouting. “I do right now.”

Azzi chuckled to herself shaking her head at the dramatic groan that left Paige’s lips.

"You act like I’m torturing you," Azzi teased, shaking the little measuring cup as she poured the thick liquid into it.

Paige turned her head away stubbornly. "I don’t want it."

Azzi sighed, tilting her head. "Paige Madison."

At the sound of her full name, Paige let out a loud huff, reluctantly sitting up just enough to take the tiny cup from Azzi’s hands. She threw it back quickly, grimacing as she swallowed, before thrusting the empty cup back at Azzi with a deep scowl.

Azzi smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

Paige narrowed her eyes. "I hate you."

Azzi only grinned wider, unfazed. "No, you don’t."

Paige huffed again but didn’t argue, slumping back against the pillows.

Azzi brushed a few strands of hair out of Paige’s face before softly asking, "Are you hungry?"

Paige barely opened one eye, her face still scrunched up from the medicine. "No."

Azzi exhaled, tapping her fingers gently against Paige’s shoulder. "Can you try to eat something for me?"

Paige groaned, shaking her head as she clung to Azzi’s arm. "Don’t wanna. Just wanna cuddle."

Azzi sighed in defeat, but there was a fond smile on her lips. "Okay, pretty," she murmured, reaching for the two pills she had set aside. She handed them to Paige, along with a water bottle. "At least take these first."

Paige wordlessly took the pills, swallowing them with a sip of water before tossing the bottle aside and immediately grabbing at the hem of Azzi’s shirt. She tugged insistently, mumbling, "Off."

Azzi raised an eyebrow but didn’t fight it, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the side. As soon as the fabric was gone, Paige wasted no time in curling up against her, pressing her cheek against Azzi’s bare skin with a content sigh.

"You’re so needy when you’re sick," Azzi teased, wrapping an arm around Paige’s waist.

"Sshh. M’ comfy," Paige murmured sleepily, nuzzling closer.

Azzi ran her fingers through Paige’s damp hair, letting the quiet settle between them. After a few moments, she softly said, "You know, if you ate something, you’d probably feel better faster."

Paige whined into her chest, shaking her head. "Don’t wanna."

Azzi smirked. "You’re impossible."

Paige’s lips barely curled into a small, tired smile. "You still like me so I don’t care."

Azzi pressed a kiss to the top of Paige’s head, her voice softer now. "Yeah, I do."

Paige hummed in satisfaction, her breathing growing heavier as Azzi’s fingers continued threading through her hair. The rise and fall of her chest slowed, her words becoming more incoherent.

Azzi smiled when Paige mumbled something almost too softly to hear. "What was that, baby?"

Paige barely lifted her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I said… you smell nice."

Azzi let out a small laugh. "Thank you."

Paige lifted her head slightly, her heavy-lidded eyes flickering to Azzi’s lips. Azzi immediately caught on, already knowing what Paige was about to ask before she even said it.

"I wanna kiss," Paige murmured, her voice still raspy from being sick.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. "I’m gonna get sick, baby."

Paige pouted dramatically. "I’ll take care of you."

Azzi snorted, giving her an unimpressed look. "You can’t even take care of yourself right now."

Paige huffed, her lips twitching slightly. "Well, with you, it’s different."

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the small smile on Paige’s face made it impossible for her to say no. She sighed in defeat. "Fine, commere.”

Paige’s grin widened just before Azzi leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It was gentle, lingering just long enough for Paige to let out a small, content sigh against her mouth.

When Azzi pulled back, Paige was already giving her a goofy, smile. "One more," she mumbled.

Azzi shook her head but indulged her anyway, meeting her lips again. This time, Paige took it a step further, sliding her tongue past Azzi’s lips in a way that made Azzi swear she wanted to kill her.

"You’re unbelievable," Azzi mumbled against her lips, but she didn’t pull away—not until she actually needed air. When she finally did, she groaned, dropping her forehead against Paige’s. "I’m definitely going to be sick now."

Paige only smiled, looking far too pleased with herself. "Worth it."

Azzi scoffed, but before she could say anything, Paige was already tugging her into a laying position, wrapping herself around Azzi as she rested her head on her chest.

Azzi sighed, threading her fingers through Paige’s hair again. "You’re such a pain in my ass."

…

The soft glow of the TV flickered across the room as the basketball game played on, the commentators’ voices blending into a low hum. Paige had insisted they watch, using her sickness as an excuse to get her way. Azzi, of course, had relented—because there was no winning against a sick and pouty Paige.

But after some time, Azzi noticed Paige’s breathing was slowing, her body growing heavier against her own. A telltale sign that she was drifting off.

Azzi glanced down, smiling as she saw Paige’s eyes fluttering closed, her lips slightly parted in sleep. Shaking her head fondly, Azzi reached for the remote, turning off the TV. She pressed a lingering kiss to Paige’s forehead, mumbling, “Goodnight, sickie.”

From the depths of sleep, Paige barely mumbled, “M’not sick.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at the blatant lie. “Right,” she murmured sarcastically, closing her eyes.

Before she could fully settle, Paige weakly reached up and pinched her side—a lazy, half-hearted protest. Azzi rolled her eyes, gently swatting Paige’s hand away.

“Go to sleep big head,” she whispered.

Paige didn’t respond this time, already too far gone. Azzi sighed, wrapping her arms a little tighter around her, letting the warmth of Paige’s body lull her into sleep.

Paige, as expected, drifted off first, her breathing soft and steady against Azzi’s skin. Azzi stayed awake a little longer, listening to the peaceful rhythm of it, before finally closing her own eyes, letting sleep take her too.

[0xstarzx0]

NDA: Sleeping with Rafe was easy until you caught feelings. Unfortunately, you were married with kids, but let’s be honest, that was never going to stop the great Rafe Cameron.

+18

People would never understand.

William was a good man—wealthy, kind, affectionate. He had given you beautiful children, cherished you, loved you in every way a husband was supposed to.

So why did you cheat on him?

William was gentle, patient, and attentive, but you weren’t in love with him. The only reason you stayed was for your children, to give them the stability of a present, devoted father.

The first time you and Rafe slept together, it was a mistake. A drunken night that spiraled into something reckless, something forbidden.

It just happened.

You weren’t happy—not romantically, not sexually, not truly—and Rafe was the only man who made you feel like more than just a wife, more than just a mother. With him, you felt alive.

Yet, you had sworn to yourself that it wouldn’t happen again.

And now, here you were, standing in his dimly lit living room at 9 PM. Just the two of you.

“Rafe, I don’t want this anymore.”

He turned to face you, eyebrows knitting together as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“Did I miss something?” he asked, his voice calm, indifferent, like this conversation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

You stepped in front of him, refusing to be intimidated by his height, by his presence.

“I love my husband. I love my kids. I have everything I could ever want,” you argued, trying to convince him—trying to convince yourself.

Rafe took a slow sip of his drink, eyes locked on you, unreadable. Then, he simply nodded.

“Alright.”

That was it. No fight, no plea. Just alright.

Your heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t what you expected. You had prepared for an argument, for persuasion, for the inevitable temptation. But not this.

“Okay,” you whispered, grabbing your things.

And then, just as you turned, he caught your wrist. Before you could react, his lips brushed against yours—just for a second. A mere ghost of a kiss.

You froze.

He pulled away, waiting. Watching.

And then, before you could think, before you could stop yourself—you crashed into him.

Rafe manages to stabilize you in a few seconds, his lips moving desperately against yours, damn it, is this what they call "love"?

He buries his head in your neck and you moan, his hands gripping your ass tightly, his breathing heavy against your neck.

"You're going to leave your husband and come spend the rest of your days with me." He carries you to his sofa and pushes you against it, you pull him in by tugging on the collar of his shirt.

"And you know why you'll do it?" He tears your tights, eliciting a loud moan from you. "Because you're completely crazy about me."

"Go to hell Rafe!" You moan, he laughs and pulls your panties to the side without warning, he thrusts deep inside you. You feel your body shake with pleasure. He curses under his breath as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, deepening the angle. "Say it," he growls, his hands digging into your thighs. "Say you'll leave him." You whimper, your nails clawing at his back. "N-no,"

He pushes harder, your pussy feeling so good around him—it's better than it was with William. "Fuck, you're so tight," he grunts, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. You gasp, your head tossing side to side on the sofa.

He leans down, his teeth grazing your neck. "You're so fuck up f’me, whether you admit it or not," he hisses. "Your body knows it, even if your heart doesn't." His fingers find your clit, circling it firmly. "Come on, baby. Give in."

Tears stream down your face from overwhelming pleasure as Rafe chuckles. He laughs because he knows that William has never had you like this—completely at his mercy, your body surrendering utterly. 

"That's it, sweetheart," Rafe purrs, feeling your pussy clench tightly around him.

"God!.." he groans, his pace quickening. "You make me lose control." He swallows hard, then asks darkly, "Are you on the pill?" You freeze beneath him. " Answer me," he growls, "Before I put a baby in you."

you bite your lip hard and scratch his back.

"Say it," he demands, his hands gripping your hips possessively. "Say you don't care if I knock you up right now." He pulls out slightly, teasing his tip at your entrance. "Say it, and I'll do it."

"I don't care if you put a baby in me Rafe Cameron. I just want you to do it." You look Rafe straight in the eyes, there's no ounce of doubt or hesitation, only love, love that has been repressed for far too long.

His eyes darken dangerously at your words, raw emotion flashing across his face. "Fuck," he mutters, then drives into you hard and deep, each thrust deliberate. "You realize what you're saying? That you want..." He breaks off, his voice becoming thick. "My baby."

"Say it again," he demands roughly, his body shaking above you. "That you'll carry my baby, that you'll be the mother of my children." He pants, his face contorted with emotion.

You remove your legs from his shoulders and cradle his face in your soft hands. "I'll be the mother of your children." You smile, your eyes starting to fill with tears. "I'll be the mother of your children." Rafe laughs, a hint of sincerity, and kisses you deeply.

For the first time in his life, Rafe felt like he had found the right one—and he had no intention of ruining it.

[p5buecks]

grind on me

paige bueckers x oc

bathroom stall hook up

cw: smut

hi first smut post so i wanted to keep it pretty chill. let me know what you think and you can also send me requests!

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

When the opening beat to Grind On Me by Pretty Ricky blasted through the club, there was only one person on my mind. My boyfriend; Caleb. This was our unofficial, official song. We met in a similar setting two years ago and as this exact song played, the brunette boy couldn’t take his eyes off me. As I danced and moved my body to the beat, Caleb watched intently before making his move.

I navigated through the crowd of sweaty, swaying bodies, eyes focused on my boyfriend who was stood with a group of his friends. I could feel myself grinning cheesily and there was no doubt, it was vodka induced. My vision had also significantly blurred since the beginning of the night and despite my steps being cautious and careful, I was still knocking into people. Without saying any words, I pressed my body against Calebs. I moved sensually, the way he liked it. My back pressed into his front and I waited for his hands to find my waist as they usually did but the familiar feeling never came. Instead I felt his flat palm press against my back before his voice muttered into my ear, “Chill, Selene.” I was tipsy and payed no mind and further pushed into Calab, ass directly in his crotch as as my hips moved to the beat.

“I said chill.” Calebs voice was deeper and more intense this time and paired with a slight shove, knocking me off balance, I couldn’t ignore him any longer. “What the fuck Caleb?” I spun around, coming face to face with my boyfriend. “You’re drunk and it’s embarrassing.” Calebs scolds, “You’ve never had a problem before.” I rebuttal, frowning while both hands rested on my hips. “Well, I have an image to keep up and people are looking, so chill.” Calebs eyes narrowed and I was taken aback, he never acted like this, I was caught off guard but I wasn’t about to back down. “I don’t give a damn if people are looking!” I flung my arms up in the air for dramatic effect and raised my voice several decibels higher. If people weren’t looking, they definitely are now.

Despite everyones eyes being on us having a domestic dispute in the middle of a busy club, Caleb had no problem reaching out for my face, holding me under my chin and squeezing my jaw, “Chill the fuck out or go home!” His tone was venomous and I sobered up quick before muttering a sharp ‘fine’ and hurrying away with tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I barged my way to the bathrooms and locked myself in a stall before giving in and letting myself cry. The salty tears made my eyes sting and cheeks wet. I needed to go home.

“Pull yourself together.” I urged myself as I wiped my tear stained face, my makeup was ruined and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I could only agree with my boyfriend. I was drunk and embarrassing. I was an embarrassment to him. I held my hands underneath the cold running water in a hope to ground myself and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, “He’s right.” I whispered.

“He’s a jerk.” A voice other than my own made me realise I was no longer alone in the bathroom and I flicked my eyes open. It took them a minute to adjust to the low lighting but the tall blonde at the door was crystal clear. Whoever she was, she was right. Caleb was a jerk but I wasn’t about to admit that to a total stranger.

I dried my hands, avoiding eye contact, just wanting to leave. “You good?” The blonde spoke again and this time she took a few steps further into the bathroom, closing the space between us. “I’m fine.” My response was short and quick and may have sounded rude, “I’m good. Thank you.” I corrected myself, shooting the girl a tight lipped smile and stepping around her. Our arms brushed each others and I was close enough for her scent to reach me. It was floral and sweet with hints of amber and vanilla. It made me stop in my tracks.

“You not allowed to have fun or sum?” She continued as I reached for the door handle. Everything told me to open the door and walk out. Go home, sober up and apologise profusely to Caleb in the morning but my body betrayed me. I let go of the door handle and turned back around to two artic blue eyes locked on me. Her pupils were dilated ever so slightly and she raised a brow as she awaited my answer.

“I guess not.” Was all I could muster and I leant against the basin. The cold marble cooling my heated skin. “Pretty girl like you should be having all the fun. Want me to go let him know?” Even though there was nothing funny about this situation and I could still taste my salty tears on my lips, I giggled, “It’s good. Don’t want you getting in trouble.” The blonde was now stood in front of me, our height difference glaringly obvious as I looked up at her. “What do you want?” There was a change in her tone, it was lower, more breathy and I suppressed a shiver. “To go home. Forgot about this mess of a night.” I tried my hardest to look away as I spoke, break the eye contact, relieve the tension that was quickly building but I couldn’t. Her hands weren’t on me but this girl had me in a chokehold.

“Forgetting is easy.” She said pushing loose curls off my face causing me to take a sharp intake of breath. Her hands were big but slender and cool against the warmth of my heated skin. “Yeah?” My voice came out croaky but I quickly cleared my throat, it was clear to me what was happening here and maybe I wasn’t thinking straight or maybe I was and just didn’t care but I was as game as she was. “Yeah. But if you need some help, just let me know.”

Two people in one stall was cramped to say the least but with my back pressed up against the wall and the blonde pressed up against me, any thoughts of this being wrong had exited my mind. She was everywhere. Her lips on my lips, then on my jaw, sloppy as they made their way down my neck before nipping at the skin on my chest. “No marks.” I breathed out and I got a chuckled response, “He don’t give a fuck baby.” And her hands that had found home on my hips tightened their grip.

Her knee was nestled perfectly between my legs, pressed firmly against my pulsating cunt and the firmer she pressed, the more I rolled my hips on her.

There were very few words spoken between us before her foot knocked mine apart and she pulled my panties to the side and pushed her fingers inside of me. Her pace was immediately fast and hard and her long fingers had no problem reaching that precise spot that made me gasp out loud. As quick as the sound tumbled from my parted lips, her hand came up to cover my mouth. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know that was a command for me to keep quiet.

She pounded in and out of me with no mercy, her hand having migrated from my mouth to my throat, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. I was quickly losing control and was unable to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I bit down on lip in an attempt to keep my breathy moans captive in my throat but it was pointless and as I whimpered in pleasure the blonde simply smirked at me, a small dimple revealing itself. “What would your boyfriend think if he knew some random had his girl moaning like this?” She asked cockily. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think of a reply. Hell, I couldn’t think of Caleb at all. Not while the wet sound of my arousal filled the small bathroom stall.

“Does he make you moan like this?” No. “Does he make you feel this good?” No. “Do I fuck you better than him?” Yes. But I wasn’t about to admit any of that to the girl I didn’t even know the name of. In an attempt to shut her up, I pressed my lips to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues fought with each others. Sloppy and heated. I groaned into her mouth as her thumb rubbed soft, tight circles over my clit. “Fuck.” My voice was shaky as I pulled away and my legs almost buckled beneath me as my stomach flipped and contracted as I was worked to the edge. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The blue eyed girl mumbled as she held me firmly in place, against the wall.

With her hand no longer covering my mouth my sordid sounds were no longer being interrupted and my back arched off the wall as my body was overcome with pleasure. “Don’t stop.” I begged as I felt myself clench around the fingers buried inside of me. My skin prickled and my body twitched as I came undone. My head dropped to the taller girls chest and the guttural groan that I let out was damn right sinful.

Breathless and trembling, I whined as her fingers slipped out of me leaving me empty and dripping. I watched with hooded eyes as she took her slick fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what I wanted to say but the moment was harshly interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open.

“Paige! We’re leaving!” I expected both of us to remain silent. Inconspicuous. But the girl in front of me called out back, “Give me two minutes.” At least she had a name now.

Paige fixed my skirt back into position after it had hiked up to my waist and she ran her thumb under my lip, no doubt wiping away smudged lipstick. “For the record, you can grind on me anytime.” And just as quick as she had made me cum, she left me stood alone, heart still racing from my climax.

“Unbelievable.” Whoever had called out for Paige was still in the bathroom so I remained hidden in the stall, “Give me a break, Azzi.” Paige replied and I was quickly met with silence as the two girls exited.

thank u for reading bbys, smooches!

[juniperskye]

I’m Sorry…What?

Based on the following ask: Established relationship but it’s secret from the team. The team think they don’t like each other but in truth they are deeply in love with each other but the team don’t let them always be alone together out of worry so there have been a few close calls where they almost get caught until reader and Aaron room together and finally talk about maybe telling the team only the way they tell them is threw wedding invites and that’s shocks the team and they all have questions to which reader and Aaron only smile thinking how funny it is that a team of profilers never found them out. Love this idea! In this, Derek kind of looks out for the reader – very “big brother” behavior from him in this.

Aaron Hotchner x Fiance BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 1617

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, meddling profilers, canon typical violence, mention of stabbing and hospitals, mention of wedding related activities, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You stood from your desk, just about to head up to Hotch’s office with a file when Emily stopped you. Her hand resting on your forearm gently, her eyes meeting your own.

“I have to go drop this file off, let me take yours.”

“Oh, Emily it’s okay. I can take them.” You moved to grab her file.

“Girl, it’s okay…I know how hard he is on you.” Emily stood, patted your shoulder and took the files to Hotch’s office.

--

Things had been like this pretty much since the moment you’d joined the BAU. For whatever reason, everyone on the team had just assumed that you and Hotch hated each other…that you two couldn’t even be in the same room as one another without fighting. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

See, what the team didn’t know was that Aaron and you were engaged. The two of you were dating even before you had joined the BAU. You had been working with a different team within the FBI, having a background in behavior analysis…moving to the BAU when a spot opened up, that just made sense.

Aaron and you had agreed to keep things strictly professional at work to avoid any discomfort within the workplace. Apparently that choice was now biting you in the ass.

Working with profilers, you’d think the secret of your relationship would have come out a long time ago, that being said, doesn’t mean there haven’t been some close calls.

--

This had started early on in you career with the BAU. Aaron had avoided pairing the two of you together, simply to avoid any suspicion of your relationship. The team, however, took this as him not warming up to your presence on the team.

Then it was him “benching” you. Aaron for a period of time had kept you in the local precincts on cases, you knew this was because he was worried about you getting hurt, but the team saw this as him questioning your abilities. They all reassured you that you were an asset to the team, more than capable in the field. Morgan had gone as far as confronting Aaron about the way he was mistreating you.

What really sealed this theory in your teammate’s heads was the way Aaron and you sparred. During debriefings the two of you would go back and forth through numerous theories, jabbing at one another for how “ridiculous” the other one was being. While to the team this looked argumentative…it really was how the two of you were, always pushing one another, wanting them to be the best they can be. Unafraid to challenge one another.

Everything was different after that. The team worked overtime to keep things light when the two of you were around one another. They would step into conversations, inserting themselves when it wasn’t necessary. They would jump in and offer to pair with one of you, so you’d never be stuck one-on-one.

At first you found it kind of funny, laughing internally at their crazy antics, but now that you were engaged, it was getting increasingly annoying. You’d just wanted some alone time with your fiancé and they were making it impossible.

--

You had gone to get a fresh cup of coffee to help you get through the remainder of your paperwork. Upon entering the kitchenette, you came face to face with your fiancé.

“Hey sweetheart.” He quietly greeted.

“Hi hon.” You smiled.

Aaron passed you a cup of coffee before moving to fill a second one for himself. He’d been this way since the beginning, always putting you first no matter what. You offered him thanks and stood with him for a moment, enjoying the proximity.

“I got a call earlier from the florist, she sent over the invoice. I also sent the deposit to the caterer this morning.” You informed.

“For the flowers, peonies right? Did you decide on pink or whi-”

“Everything okay in here?” Morgan bounded into the kitchenette. “You guys look tense…please tell me you weren’t fighting again.”

“Nope, everything is good! I was just heading back to my desk.” You said before making your exit.

--

The next slip up was while away on a case. You had been with Derek interviewing someone that happened to be the unsub, only you hadn’t been aware of that going in.

He had pulled a knife and moved quickly, leaving you with a nasty stab to the gut. You were lucky that it hadn’t hit anything major. You’d waved Derek off, telling him to go after the unsub.

After apprehending the guy, Derek made his way back to you to check in and make sure you were okay. He had called the team and for a medic, not leaving your side.

When Aaron showed up he was livid. The team took that as anger for your “mistake”, not realizing that his anger was directed toward himself – he was beating himself up for having sent you in there, putting you in this situation.

He rode with you in the ambulance to the hospital…giving the rest of the team time to talk about how he was probably reprimanding you. But once again, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. He had held you hand and reassured you the whole way to the hospital.

The team met him there and waited by his side as you were tended to. And when the doctor came out and called your name, asking for family, Aaron didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet, barely catching himself and mentally correcting fiancé to boss.

--

After that, the team did everything they could to keep the two of you separated or at least had someone with you to act as a buffer. It was becoming exhausting – you’d been trying to give Aaron an update about some stuff for the wedding and you just couldn’t get the chance.

The two of you would end up rapidly firing through topics once you arrived home for the evening, trying to catch one another up on wedding tasks, work tasks, and just everyday things.

 “Aaron…have you thought about how much easier things would be if we just told the team about us?”

“Yes I have. Why do you ask?” He admitted.

“Just, well…they’ve been annoying lately.” You huffed. “I don’t mean to sound rude, you know I love them. But they just won’t quit, I can’t get even a second alone with you at work and it is getting ridiculous.”

“You’re right. When you were in the hospital last month, I almost let it slip in front of them. If it’s what you want, let’s tell them.” Aaron agreed.

And thus began your planning of how you’d tell the most oblivious group of profilers that the two of you didn’t hate each other but were actually engaged to be married.

--

It took about a week and a half before you could officially tell the team your little secret. You had been waiting for your invitations to come in so you could hand deliver a few to your team…it would be the perfect announcement.

“Round table in five.” Aaron called out into the bullpen.

“Shit…he seems pissed.” Emily hissed.

You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing full well he was anything but pissed. Emily and you went and collected everyone, bringing them to the round table. There were hushed whispers about what this could be about, and when Penelope mentioned there wasn’t a new case, you could feel the anxiety filling the room.

--

Aaron made his way in, his hands holding a neat stack of pale pink envelopes. You couldn’t help but notice the way he commanded a room, his mere presence demanding the attention of those around him. This is what had initially drawn you to him all those years ago.

“I have something for each of you. I’d like you to wait to open them until everyone has one.” Aaron announced.

He passed them out one by one, the room remaining silent the entire time. It didn’t take long for everyone to notice that you were the only one who didn’t receive an envelope.

“Hotch man, if this is some kind of sick power move then I swear I will-” Derek began.

“Please, open them.” You spoke before standing up and making your way to Aaron’s side.

Confusion painted its way across everyone’s faces. Hands working quickly to open the envelopes they’d been handed. You were shaking with anticipation, and you couldn’t help the little smirk that made its way to your lips when the confusion was quickly replaced with shock.

“I’m sorry…what?” Penelope asked.

“What the hell is this?” Derek questioned.

Everyone began talking at once, talking about whether or not this was a joke. Asking if one another knew, and how long this had been going on.

“Guys!” You called. “Aaron and I have been together for a few years, well before I started with the BAU. We got engaged about seven months ago…and well, we’d love it if you all would be there for us.” You smiled.

“I KNEW IT!” Rossi laughed. “I told you all from the beginning that they didn’t hate one another, they love each other, and you all swore that they hated each other.”

--

Four months later, the BAU team stood by your sides as you said your vows and committed yourselves to one another.

And while the team dynamic shifted slightly with them knowing the two of you are together, and with there being two Agent Hotchners now, the one thing that didn’t change was that this team was family and you all were there for one another no matter what.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[mayahawkesfirstwife]

Quiet

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

Pairings: Se-mi x Fem! Reader

Summary: Eating Se-mi out under the blankets during lights out.

Warnings: Smut, public sex, lowk Sub Se-mi, fingering, oral sex, teasing, etc.

Author Note: Literally seen a post just like this and wanted to make one but longer idk😭 Sorry if theres any mistakes!!

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

It was lights out and you were in bed with Se-mi, your girlfriend, in her bed in the corner at the bottom of one of the bunk beds.

She saved your life multiple times through out the games but the most recent time was the most serious.

You felt as if maybe you could repay her for her hard work of saving herself and her girlfriend.

You were laying beside her, glancing over at her, she’s so hot. You felt yourself getting turned on.

“Honey?” You whisper, leaning into her ear.

She was laying on her back with her arm behind her head, eyes shut, she opened them when you called for her and looked over at you.

“What’s wrong?” She whispers.

“I want to repay you…” You hum, quietly into her ear.

“For what?” She whispers, eyebrows furrowed.

“Saving me so much, you’re so sweet…” You smile, kissing her cheek.

You peck her lips, “I’m so turned on, baby.” You whisper, your hand trails down her stomach and to the waistband of her green pants.

She glances around, making sure no one was watching.

There were noises like some whispering, rustling, and snoring so it wasn’t silent which was good.

“Se-mi?”

She looks back at you as you sigh, “I’m so hungry.”

She’s surprised the topic has changed so quickly, yet you’re still playing with her waistband.

She didn’t seem to understand though, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“Can I eat your pussy?” You whisper into her ear, she gasps lightly.

You pout, “Please? Please? I’ll do it so good, I promise.”

She shifts in her spot, “Yes, yes…” She nods repeatedly.

She tugs her green pants and her underwear down to her ankles and you look around before crawling under the blanket between her open legs.

Fuck, she was so wet.

You kiss her right inner thigh and then her left inner thigh, before licking the right one and then sucking on the left.

You move closer and closer, she lifts the blanket sightly, “Don’t tease me.”

She pulls it back down to cover you and you giggle, kissing her clit.

You grip her inner thighs and lick a stripe up her folds to her clit before pulling back. She tastes so fucking sweet.

You do this about five times before her legs tighten around your neck and you kiss her clit, she was dripping wet and ready.

She sighs as your middle and index finger slid slowly into her sopping pussy.

She hisses lowly, you let her adjust before pumping your fingers in and out of her wet pussy.

Wet squelching noises are heard lowly as you push your hair behind your ears before licking up her clit again.

You curl your fingers as you finally start to suck on her clit sloppily.

“Fuck.” She whimpers lowly, you suck harder and she makes more whines, you pinch her thigh and she stops.

Se-mi is staring up at the bunk above her, eyes squeezed shut as you’re sucking her clit so well and finger fucking her wet pussy.

She’s trying so hard not to moan and pull the blankets down and grip your hair and fuck your face.

She moans, whines and whimpers lowly a few times, one whimper was too loud which caused you to pinch her thigh.

She gritted her teeth at the feeling but started to bite down on her lip to keep quiet and gripping the side of the bed.

Under the cover, you are pulling back from her clit to breathe, you lick your lips so her taste could linger.

You curl your fingers over and over and start to flick your tongue on her clit as fast as you could.

You start sucking on her clit and flicking your tongue on it, switching from one to the other every five seconds which drove Se-mi crazy.

She squeezed her thighs around your head, you knew by how she was squeezing around your curled fingers that she was close.

You suck as hard as you can on her clit and curl your fingers just right as she came.

She pants, you pull back after she finished and lick up her juices, trying to clean her up.

She squirmed under you, feeling overstimulated she literally grabs your head and pushes on it with a small whimper.

You lift the blanket and sat beside her, licking your lips and then making sure she watches you as you suck your fingers of all her juices.

“You taste so fucking sweet, Sem…”

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

[olderwomenenthusiast]

tell me in the morning (spencer reid)

PAIRING: spencer reid & fem reader DESCRIPTION: you make sure spencer tells you his confession when he's sober CAUTION: drunk spencer WORD COUNT: 2.1k AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read, they never are x

Morgan stared at Spencer, who was swaying slightly on the barstool, eyes half-lidded and a slight slur to his words. "Man, you're not usually like this," Morgan said, an amused yet concerned expression on his face. "Rossi, we need to get him out of here."

Rossi just shook his head, eyeing Spencer with a mix of disbelief and sympathy. "He's not usually this bad, but he’s been on a roll tonight. I think we pushed him a bit too far."

Morgan was already reaching for his phone, dialing your number. The sound of it ringing echoed in his ear. "Hey, it's Morgan. We’ve got a problem. Reid’s way too drunk, and I don’t think he can make it home on his own. Can you come pick him up?"

He paused, hearing the concern in your voice. "Yeah, I know, we tried. But you’re his best bet. Please come get him."

He glanced at Spencer, who was now giggling at some joke only he understood, then back at Rossi. "I’ll keep an eye on him, but he’s not going anywhere until you get here."

When you walked in, you saw Spencer’s usual sharpness completely gone, replaced by a goofy grin and a drowsy gaze. He perked up when he saw you, his eyes widening a little. "Hey, hey, it’s you! My favorite person," he slurred, attempting to stand but stumbling into the table beside him.

"Spence," you said softly, moving quickly to steady him, a little worried at how uncharacteristically vulnerable he was. "Let’s get you out of here, okay?"

He nodded, his head falling onto your shoulder as you helped him to his feet. "I’m fine, really," he muttered, but it was clear he wasn’t. He leaned into you more than usual, his weight pressing heavily on your side.

Morgan shot you a quick, apologetic look, and Rossi gave a knowing nod, both stepping back to let you take the lead.

"You’ve got him, right?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," you replied, though there was no hiding the concern in your voice. "Don’t worry. I’ve got him."

Spencer gave a soft laugh, his arm sliding around your waist as you guided him out of the bar. "You always know how to make me feel better," he murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You smiled, though it was laced with worry. "Let’s just get you home, Spence."

As you led Spencer out of the bar, his head bobbing slightly as he struggled to stay upright, you could feel the weight of the situation settling in. He was usually so put-together, so controlled—this side of him, so vulnerable and unguarded, was unsettling.

"You really went all in tonight, huh?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light, even as your concern deepened.

Spencer chuckled softly, but there was an odd, almost self-deprecating edge to it. "I just… wanted to forget, you know? For a little while. It’s... hard sometimes."

You stopped, glancing at him. He looked at you, eyes unusually glassy, but there was still that familiar vulnerability in his gaze. "Spence, you don't have to do this alone, you know. We’re here for you."

He leaned against you a little more, letting out a sigh. "I know. It’s just... sometimes it feels like I’m too much, even for you guys. Like I’m a burden." His words were slower now, a quiet honesty slipping out as the alcohol loosened his usual guardedness.

Your heart clenched. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or if Spencer truly felt this way, but you weren’t about to let him believe he was a burden to anyone—especially not to you. "You’re not a burden, Spencer. Never have been. We care about you. I care about you."

His head tilted up, just enough to catch your eyes, and for a moment, the playfulness faded as the weight of his words seemed to sink in. "You do?" he asked softly, almost like a whisper, his voice vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

You nodded, your hand gently brushing his cheek. "Of course. You're one of my closest friends, Spence. I’ve always got your back."

Spencer didn’t say anything for a few moments. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, before a small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he whispered, voice full of sincerity.

You smiled back, guiding him toward the car. "Let's just get you home, okay? We'll talk more in the morning."

As you helped Spencer into the car, the ride back was filled with a kind of quiet tension. His hand rested on the seat between you, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for you, but he never quite did. His usual intelligence and wit seemed clouded, and his mind wandered more than it usually would. Every now and then, he'd mumble something under his breath, something you couldn't quite catch, but it didn’t seem important at the time.

However, as you pulled into the parking spot outside his apartment, he looked over at you with an intensity that was too sharp for the state he was in.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" His voice was softer than usual, almost fragile.

"Of course," you said, keeping the car in park and looking over at him. You noticed how his eyes were fixed on you, a kind of vulnerability in them that you hadn’t seen before.

He shifted, leaning closer, his breath warm on your face. "I’ve been meaning to say this for a long time," he continued, words slow, as if working through something heavy in his mind. "I... I think I’ve always loved you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and the air between you both seemed to hang still for a moment. You blinked, trying to process what he was saying, but Spencer was already moving closer, his hand finding your arm as he leaned in, eyes closing in anticipation of a kiss.

For a brief moment, you froze, feeling a mixture of shock, confusion, and concern. This wasn’t right—not now, not like this.

"Spence," you said, your voice gentle, but firm. You placed your hand on his chest to keep him from leaning in further, your heart pounding in your chest as you made sure he was steady. "I care about you, I do. But this... this isn’t something we should do right now, not when you’re drunk."

He stilled, his face faltering for the briefest of seconds, and when he pulled back, his eyes seemed distant, like he was already retreating into himself. "Oh," he muttered, almost to himself, looking away from you. "Right. I didn’t think... I guess I just thought... you’d feel the same." His voice was tinged with hurt, and that small, vulnerable side of him seemed to sink even further.

You took a deep breath, your hand still gently on his arm, and you spoke softly, careful not to dismiss his feelings. "Spencer," you started again, searching his eyes, making sure he understood. "If you still feel the same way in the morning when you’ve had time to clear your head, then we can talk about it. We can see where things go. But right now, I don’t want you to make any decisions when you’re not yourself."

His expression faltered, but he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Yeah, okay," he muttered, his gaze dropping. "I just... I just thought... never mind."

You could see the pain behind his words, and it made your heart ache. You reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder, giving him a comforting look. "It’s okay, Spence. Just... let’s get you inside and get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow, alright?"

He didn’t respond at first, but when you helped him out of the car, his steps were slower, as if the weight of his confession and your response had settled on his shoulders. Inside his apartment, you made sure he was settled onto the couch, and though you could see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes, you also knew that this wasn’t the end of whatever was beginning between you two. It was just a pause, a moment where time had to catch up with feelings and circumstances.

"Sleep, Spence," you whispered, tucking a blanket around him. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

He looked up at you one more time, his gaze soft but weary. "Okay," he said quietly, before closing his eyes. "Thanks for... not making this worse."

You watched him drift into a restless sleep, a swirl of emotions in your chest as you settled into the chair beside him. You didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for now, you stayed by his side, knowing that whatever happened, you would work through it together - when he was ready.

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as you busied yourself with the morning routine, the soft clink of mugs and the steady drip of the coffee maker offering a comforting normalcy after last night’s emotional rollercoaster. You were trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept wandering back to Spencer, and the confession he had drunkenly blurted out in the car. You hoped that, with time, things would settle; though the quiet anticipation in your chest told you otherwise.

Then, you heard the familiar soft padding of footsteps behind you. You turned to find Spencer standing in the doorway, looking a little disheveled, his hair sticking out in every direction, but there was a slight glint in his eyes that made him look almost endearing in his disoriented state.

"Good morning," you said, offering him a soft smile as you poured the coffee. "You need pain meds? A glass of water?"

He shook his head, blinking as he seemed to gather himself. "No, surprisingly, no headache. Just... a little embarrassed." He scratched the back of his neck, his nervousness clear in the way he avoided your gaze. "I can’t believe I said that last night."

You raised an eyebrow, turning to face him more fully, leaning against the counter. "What exactly did you say last night, Spence? You’ll have to remind me." You couldn’t help but tease him lightly, letting the playful tone soften the tension that still hung in the air.

Spencer flushed, taking a few slow steps closer to you, his eyes never quite meeting yours, though you could see the vulnerability behind them. "I told you I loved you. And I meant it," he murmured, his voice quieter now, more serious than it had been before. "I just... I needed to tell you. I was too scared before."

Before you could stop yourself, your heart softened. You didn’t need time to think about it; you knew exactly how you felt. You stepped closer to him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love you too, Spencer." Your eyes met his, and the depth of your words seemed to linger between you both.

He seemed to freeze, a surprised little breath escaping him as he finally allowed himself to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he took one more step toward you, his hand reaching out to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek softly, almost as if he were still trying to convince himself this wasn’t just a dream.

"I’m serious," he said, his voice almost pleading now, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your jaw. "I meant it. I love you."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at the honesty in his words, but couldn't resist the urge to tease him just a little. "I know you meant it, Spence." You let your fingers brush over his hand where it cupped your face. "But it takes a genius like you to get drunk just to finally tell me."

Spencer’s face flushed deeper, and you could see the little smirk that tugged at his lips, despite the embarrassment. "I guess... I guess I needed a little push."

"You definitely did," you teased, leaning forward just slightly, enough that your lips brushed the edge of his cheek. "But I’m glad you got there."

Spencer chuckled softly, a genuine warmth behind the sound. "I promise next time, no alcohol. I’ll be a little more... coherent when I tell you."

You smiled, your hands gently resting on his chest as you looked up at him, heart full of warmth. "I think I’d like that."

He leaned in just a bit closer, his forehead resting against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "Good, because I plan on telling you a lot more often."

The air between you seemed to settle, a quiet understanding filling the space. Spencer’s nervousness melted away, and in its place was something stronger, something real. You didn’t know what the future held, but as you stood there with him, the weight of last night’s confession didn’t feel so heavy anymore. It felt right.

[vershautece]

Imagine the whole phd thing was your inside joke nobody else knew about and one day you’re at a gathering and somebody asks “so luigi, thinking of going for that phd soon?” He smirks and looks towards you like “what you think of me and a phd baby?” OHHHH LETS GO HOME RIGHT NOW AND I’LL TELL YOU

*when i first started responding to this ask i didn’t even mean to write a whole oneshot haha but omfg guys this is like size kink heaven

—

omg this is what im saying he would literally be this cocky and teasing😣 and yes i love the idea of it being an inside joke like u guys were prob just cuddling scrolling on your phones and he starts laughing bc he’s just seen a tweet about someone doing a phd and it inspired the joke😭 ur both giggling like children and then u turn to him and decide to tease, batting your lashes. ‘so is it really as huge as you say, sir?’ & you know damn well it’s a whole 7 inches bc ur insides have it memorised. ur rubbing his bulge through his pants and when he tells u to straddle him you’re giggling and whining while u dry hump

he’s going along with your playing dumb gimmick: ‘you need help remembering how big my cock is baby? don’t want just the tip, no? you want the whole thing? how many inches am i, princess?’

‘mm, 5?’ you’re messing with him still, grinding your hips onto his clothed crotch. his hands are moving between your sides, your lower back and gripping and kneading your ass in your loungewear.

at your words he immediately scoffs, and cocks his tongue to the inside of his cheek: ‘yeah sure baby, so you wanna see if you’re right?’ his smirk is making you so wet, and it’s surely gonna leak through the thin fabric you’re wearing. your hands are pushing on his chest now while you rock your hips against his.

‘mhmm, show me baby, i don’t think you can call it a phd if it’s only 5 inches. hm?’ u tease him, and move back off his crotch a little to palm him through his sweatpants. he’s so hard now, and u almost moan out loud at the feeling of him even through fabric.

‘take it out then, sweetheart’ he’s looking at you with pure lust in his eyes as you sit back to pull his sweatpants and his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the other side of the bed.

his cock is fully erect, almost slapping against his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. ‘what do you think, baby?’

you’re nearly drooling at the sight, and you giggle, biting your lip. ‘still think it’s just 5 inches, lu’ you bat your eyelashes, pouting slightly, and he nods slowly in response. ‘see if you can take those 5 inches in your mouth then, come on. if it’s only 5 you can do it, sweetheart’

you don’t break eye contact with him as you put him in your mouth, and you only get halfway down before you start to gag. the sight of u struggling to deepthroat him while maintaining eye contact has him going insane. he lets out one loud groan as soon as he’s in your mouth, and instinctively moves his hand to your hair, holding it out of your face. ‘why can’t you take it all, bellissima? hm? come off my cock for a second and answer me, yeah?’

you reluctantly take him out of your mouth, and tease him by spitting out his precum back onto the tip of his cock. ‘mm, think i need to feel it inside me lu, y’know if it hits my cervix then maybe i can say you do qualify for a phd’

u and luigi literally never have sex without him hitting your cervix - he knows you’re messing with him and his size kink is going crazy. he gives u that smirk (u guys know which oneee) ‘that’s fine baby ill give it to you, but you didn’t answer my question. why can’t you deepthroat my cock, beautiful?’

‘mm, stop asking questions and tell me to put it inside baby’ you moan, rocking yourself on his bare thigh and stroking his cock - you’re still fully clothed, and this friction isn’t enough

‘so fuckin’ needy, hm? yeah, you want my dick inside you? take everything off baby, there wasn’t any point in wearing panties cause you’re leaking through your clothes, mm’ he sits up a bit and reaches forward to rub your pussy slowly through your pants. he can locate the clit even through your clothes, and he slaps it lightly as a way of telling you to strip off. you take off your tank top, shuffle out of your pants, and then pull down your soaking panties, and luigi is jerking off slowly in front of you, trying to control his moans. you position yourself on him, replacing his hand with yours on his cock so that you can guide him into you. slowly, you start to push in the tip, and you nearly scream at the pleasure from his tip alone. ‘mmmm, lu’ you place your hands on his chest, and he’s smirking up at u. ‘mhm? this is just the tip baby girl, you gonna push me in deeper? shouldn’t be that difficult since im not that big, huh? cmon’ and he starts drawing slow circles on your clit just to tease you even more. you roll your eyes and push him in deeper, letting out another pornographic moan. ‘luigiiii, mm you’re so bi-’

his smirk grows wider: ‘i’m what? repeat that baby’ he lifts his hips to slowly push the rest into you, groaning at the feeling, and when he bottoms out you lean forward onto his chest and put your arms around his neck. ‘you’re so big, mmmm Mr phd’ you giggle into his chest

‘yeah? it’s more than 5 inches, huh, princess?’ he wraps his arms tight around your waist and gently pulls your face from his chest. he kisses you passionately, and you’re both giving each other teasing smiles when u break the kiss. ‘mhm, feel you in my cervix’ you moan softly; he’s not even started moving yet.

‘yeah, i know baby’ he coos at you, caressing your abdomen where his imprint is. ‘start rocking your hips, and i’ll get to making you feel so good, hm?’ he kisses you again softly as you start grinding on his cock. ‘mmmm, i’m so lucky’ you moan

his arms are moving up and down your torso now, and occasionally to your ass to knead it and grip it. ‘yeah you are, and so am i with this beautiful girl on top of me. you look like an angel, my baby’

you’re blushing down at him, soft moans spilling from your throat as you increase the pace. he’s kissing your neck now and leaving hickeys, while u tangle your fingers in his curls. ‘yeah, grind on my cock just like that, oh fuck’ he’s moaning into your neck, and you keep this pace going for a good few minutes, until he tells you to stop.

u both look at each other with lust filled eyes, a needy whine leaving your throat as you stop moving. he chuckles softly at your desperation. ‘c’mere, baby girl’ he wraps his arms tight around your waist again, and shifts his position on the bed to sit up properly against the headboard, still inside you. ‘c’mere’ he continues to coo at you, then brings u down onto his chest, planting his feet on the bed for the perfect angle to start thrusting up into you. he kisses your forehead, and holds you so tight. you’re prepared for him to start thrusting rough, but instead he starts an extremely frustrating pace of one rough thrust, then stilling inside u, another rough thrust, stilling inside again, and repeat. you want him to be fucking you dumb, not teasing you at this slow pace but it’s so so intimate, and his words in between the thrusts have you feeling like you’re in heaven. ‘i’m starting off slow like this baby, need to make sure you’re really savouring the feeling of how i hit your cervix, mhm? promise i’ll go faster soon’ he speaks to you so sweet and soft, kissing your forehead over and over.

*thrust* ‘mm, that’s it bellissima, you’re taking it so well’ *thrust* ‘mhm, my baby taking my cock so deep for me’ *thrust* ‘yeah, you feeling good?’ *thrust* ‘oh that’s my girl huh? mm, amore mio’

to all of this you’re just responding with moans and incoherent babbles, fingers tangled in his curls - the sensation and the contrast of him thrusting and then stilling inside is heavenly, and you don’t mind the teasing anymore.

‘all you can do is moan for me, hm? all dumb on this phd?’ he’s still at the same pace, and when you still don’t respond he smacks ur ass in between thrusts. u manage to let out a reply through whines: ‘mmm i love you luigi, my baby’

‘i know, sweetheart, i know. i love you too, always wanna show you how much’ he stops thrusting altogether and kisses your shoulder. ‘luigi, please’ you moan, desperate for him to fuck you properly. ‘pazienza, amore mio’

you’re arching your back like a slut waiting for him, and when he starts a steady pace you can’t control any of the whines and moans that leave your throat. ‘oh, luuu, i needed this so bad, your cock’s so fucking big, shit, i can’t’ your eyes roll into the back of your head, and his grip on your waist is so secure it’s making u even dizzier thinking about how protective he is of you. ‘that’s it, sweetheart - is it too much?’ his pace is getting unbelievably faster, and he keeps saying things to you as if you have the energy or brain capacity rn to reply.

‘no it’s perfect baby, want you inside me like this forever’ you manage to reply, and then you’re pressing sloppy kisses all over his neck - your moans vibrating against his skin triggers louder moans from him. ‘oh you’re so good to me, i’m the luckiest girl in the world’

‘baby girl - bambina - i wanna take care of you forever, make you my wife’

‘luigi, i’m gonna cum’ you whine, his words getting u even closer.

‘mhm, you close? yeah? cum for me, beautiful’ he pushes you back off his chest so he can see you, and the eye contact is insane. ‘i wanna see you come undone for me, amore mio, i’m so close too’

‘cum inside me, lu’ you whine desperately, hands gripping his curls so tight. his thrusts haven’t slowed once, and u think it can’t get any better till he suddenly hooks his hands under your ass and makes you jump on his cock, while he shifts his position so that you’re both sat up properly chest to chest, and he bends his knees even more to adjust the angle of his thrusts that somehow makes you feel even better than you already felt.

‘i’m gonna cum, fuck baby, oh, i love you so much’ his moans are erratic, and he’s sucking and kissing your boobs, hands still gripping and smacking your ass.

‘mhmmmm, me too, oh i love you’ you’re rocking your hips frantically to meet his thrusts now, and he pulls away from your boobs just for one second to say something: ‘dolcezza, play with your clit, my pretty girl’

and now your fingers are working erratically on your bundle of nerves, the last thing to push you over the edge as you get your release, screaming luigi’s name. you fall forward onto his chest immediately, while he continues his thrusts to get his own release.

‘that’s a good girl, cumming all over my cock, that’s it - gonna fill you up with mine now, mhm’ he’s muttering these words in your ear, followed by loud grunts as he spills inside you, right before collapsing on the sheets with you on his chest.

you’re both breathing heavily for a few moments and he’s stroking your hair with one hand, pulling you as close as possible by your waist with his other hand. he’s the first to speak: ‘so you’re gonna tell me i qualify for a phd now?’ he’s smirking into your hair, pecking the top of your head. ‘baby’ you giggle into his chest. u caress his cheek and whisper in his ear, ‘of course. and this 7 inch phd belongs to me’ you’re smiling up at him, and he raises his brows in response. ‘oh so you do admit it now, huh? i know your pussy has every inch of me memorised, you can’t mess with me sweetheart’

he shifts you slightly to slowly pull his cock out of you, and you both giggle at all the cum that drips out onto his stomach :’) then, you look up at him innocently, moving your hand to his softening cock. ‘can you fuck me in the shower, please baby?’