#I’m sorry i just can’t stop thinking about them

[missfrustration]

to teach a captain - part 2 (luffy x reader 18+ fanfic)

summary: If the “D” in his middle name didn't stand for dick, you don’t know what would.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

rating: 18+ explicit, minors do not interact!

tags: pwp, nsfw, smut, sexual content, masturbation, first times, self discovery, cluelessness, luffy is a curious guy, sub!luffy, dirty talk, "good boy," some praising, reader is a member of the crew, post-time skip, second-hand embarrassment, you will cringe, no use of y/n

A/n: the real spice starts now. I got carried away and wrote like 6k words for this one. Luffy, ur my goat forever. on ao3 here!

words: 6.1k

“Talk to me? About what? I find it hard to believe you would end your time out there just to talk to me.”

Without a beat, Luffy tilts his head. “You didn’t answer my question earlier, and I wanted to know why,” he says, crossing his arms.

“What?” But you didn't need to ask what he meant—you knew exactly what he was talking about—but that didn’t stop your entire body from freezing. 

“You had your clothes off, making noise, and had that thing. At first, I thought you were in pain, but then when I came in, you seemed… good. I have no idea what happened.”

You swallow thickly, only looking at the deep brown of Luffy’s eyes. You feel a heavy blush form on your face as you struggle to find any words. 

“I’m sorry, Luffy, but I don’t think we should talk about it,” You say. “I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“What? That’s not fair.” Luffy whines.

“What’s not fair?”

“You were having a good time, and I want to know why. The way you talked… you looked like you were having fun.“

Your body tenses into a rigor mortis level of shock.

“You want to know what you saw?”

He nods adamantly.

“Luffy, how long were you watching?”

He shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “A while.”

You blink. Luffy definitely saw everything then. The feeling of him seeing your bare form pleasuring yourself with no guilt is enough to make your face light on fire. You cuss at yourself for not closing the door like you should’ve.

“How old are you again, Luffy?”

“Uh… 19?”

“That‘s what I thought,” You mumble, sighing so hard you groan. “If you don’t know, I can’t imagine you know other things— anything about…” a pause, “ do you know where babies come from?”

Luffy scratches his chin.

“Isn’t it a giant bird? I think Grandpa told me that once.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’d thought you would say. Okay, we both need to sit down for this one.” 

You rustle some stacks of clothing off your bed onto Nami’s bed to the right of you before you sit on the edge of the sheets. Luffy plopped onto the edge beside you, kicking his feet against the bed frame.

“If this were anyone else on the Sunny, I wouldn’t need to think twice about entertaining this,” but of course, it’s Luffy. You sigh. “So, we can talk about it, but no relaying ANYTHING about this to the crew, got it? This conversation cannot get to them.”

Another shrug. “Sure, that’s fine.”

You sigh and rub your face, watching Luffy through your fingers for a moment before sliding them down and crossing your arms.

“You can ask away then.”

Luffy perks up and grins. His mind was off to the races.

“What was that noise you were making?”

How you painfully grimace at the first question tells you how much you’ll enjoy this conversation.

“Well, that’s what happens when you, uh, when people do what I was doing?” Your voice turns into a question by accident. If this was anyone else but Luffy, you would’ve tapped out here, but you know Luffy would never let you hear the end of it.

Luffy hums, reflecting on your answer.

“What were you doing?”

Yep, we are going there.

“Uh, I was making myself… feel good. It’s called masturbating, or…pleasuring oneself.” You cringe at the informative tone in your voice as you mull it over.  “Like you said.”

“What were you using?”

“Using? What do you mean—” Before Luffy answers your question, you realize he meant your dildo. “Oh, it was… a tool.”

“A tool? Like, to help fight?”

“No, it’s to help me feel good. It’s called a toy.” 

Luffy looks around the room.

”Do other people need that?”

“For what?”

He briefly thinks about the question, scratching his head like the words are right there.

“If they want to feel like that too.”

“Hardly,” you snort. “Guys never have it that rough; usually, hands work fine. Women may. It just depends on whether they need some extra help.”

As far as you know, you recall Nami telling the girls she gets her pleasure from men on different islands and usually her hands if we’re stuck on the sea for a while. Robin doesn’t mention her individual sex life, but you’d assume Franky takes care of her whenever she needs a pick-me-up.

”Then why do you need a toy?” Luffy asks.

”Man, Luffy…” You mumble, arms supporting you as you fall back on your bed. “This is a lot for me.”

When you look at him, his pout says it all. You pinch the bridge of your nose with the strength that could knock you out of this nightmare, yet disappointed that you’re still here.

“Okay, okay, fine. Sometimes, during these moments, it’s harder for me to reach the same… conclusion than it is for others, so I need the assistance of a toy to help me. I don’t know much about the others–that’s not really something people talk about to each other.”

Luffy perked up at your last sentence.

“Huh? The others do it, too?”

“Well, maybe. That’s not for me to know.” You say. You try to shrug it off–thinking about it too much will make you want to knock on every door you need to open on the Sunny.

“Why can’t the crew just help you next time?” Luffy asks.

Suddenly, the bed no longer offers support as you sit straight up. You didn’t need to say anything; Luffy saw your concern screaming before you could open your mouth.

“We’re nakama! I would do anything for you guys. The others feel the same.” He says with a smile. Luffy’s words make it seem like the easiest answer, practically beaming at a newfound resolve. It just makes you sink into the mattress more.

“That’s not exactly… something that requires you guys. People don’t usually help each other with this…” You stop before you explain only people who are very close can, but you know Luffy wouldn’t know how close that is unless you explain it.

“Does that mean you won’t tell me how to do it?”

“Tell you?” You ask. Luffy nods, and you only widen your eyes more. “Wait, you want me to tell you how to masturba-“ you clear your throat before finishing, “tell you how ?”

“You said it felt good, right? I wanna know how, then!”

Your captain is a nice guy, giving you a clean, optimistic smile after his words. To him, this is practically like learning a new combat skill–the way he fights for his nakama means he always wants to learn how to get stronger. You guess this is just another skill for him. To you, this obviously crosses intimate boundaries. 

You sigh, “You wanna know that bad, huh?”

Luffy nods.

You gaze at Luffy, wondering how you should go about this. You know he’s a loose canon when it comes to anything in the realm of keeping things private. He couldn’t keep Mr. 0 a secret even when their lives depended on it! On top of that, Luffy is the type of guy to pester you about something he’s curious about until he finds out or flatlines. If you tell him no, he could possibly keep asking until everyone on the ship hears about it. Your mouth opens to deny him, but it’s lost on your tongue.

If explaining to him how to please himself is all it is, maybe you can rush him through the steps and have him out the door shortly after. After all, he is seriously uneducated, which may help him in the long run. For what exactly, only God knows. You’re just a girl.

“If it means you keep this all a secret.” You relent, “Promise? Like, really promise. I know you’re horrible at keeping them, but I need you to just this once.” 

It makes Luffy perk up, crisscrossing his legs and resting his hands on his ankles. “Promise!” He says with a toothy grin. He’s ready to listen.

“Okay, you know your…penis-“ another cringe, “between your legs?”” You ask, gesturing to his crotch. You have to find a baseline about what he even knows in the first place. 

“What, the family jewels?”

Wow, off to a great start.

“… yeah. that’s what a man has with their penis—it’s your version of genitalia—whereas women…. it’s a long story… but I'm sure you saw the difference.”

He nods again, making you groan. You realize he really did see all of your pussy this morning, not to mention in excruciating pleasure. Judging by his face, he doesn’t seem confused as to what you mean when referring to his junk. That at least helps the awkwardness of this.

“Alright, y’know how sometimes you wake up and you’re hard?”

“What do you mean hard?” Luffy blinks.

“Hard means when your dick, or penis, y’know, is hard. When you wake up like that, it’s called ‘morning wood.’” You cringe at yourself again, but less severe.

“Oooohhh, yeah, you mean when it’s hard to pee!” Luffy says.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I’m talking ab–”

“You mean like this!” Luffy smiles, reaching for his pants. He unbuttons his shorts and pulls the hem of his boxers down.  

“W-what the hell are you doing?” You squeak, scrambling around.

By the time you think to turn away, you see Luffy’s hand pop out from his shorts, followed by…

“See?” 

His dick is in his hands semi-hard. It’s flush against his fingers, almost the exact same color as his skin, except for a tinge of pink that lightens the more you travel towards the tip. Your eyes bulge out.

“Woah, you’re already hard… that’s surprising.”

“Yeah, it's like this a lot.”

For some reason, his words send a strange spark in you. Of course he has working bodily functions–that makes a lot of sense–but you suppose it surprised you. At first, it seemed like Luffy was completely oblivious, his body included.

“You're very red,” He says, his other hand starts waving in your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine,” You say with a nervous laughter. “But you don’t just whip it out like that, man.”

“Oh, sorry, I figured I could since you’re teaching me.”

You look down at his dick still in his hand, except this time, it’s grown to what you guess is his full length. Compared to others you’ve seen in the past, his length is a little smaller. You can’t tell completely without staring it, and you don’t feel like gawking would be that nice.

“It’s fine. We can work on courtesy later, but it’s super important you know about consent. Just know you’re allowed to stop whenever you’re uncomfortable with this, or by me, alright? When you talk about—or do —topics like this, it’s important to know this if you’re overwhelmed or if you don’t like what’s happening, understand? That’s called consent. Are you okay to keep going?”

 “Yeah,” He smiles, “so, what do I do now?”

You shift a little, trying to scan the room for literally any answer that would get you out of this situation without your face feeling on fire—at the very least without talking about his penis again—but you cannot find a single reality. There is nothing but the goddamn wall of the girl’s dorm looking back at you.

You hope your face isn’t red anymore, or else you’ll think you’ll die from high blood pressure. 

“Okay, go ahead and put your hand on it like this.” You do a hand demonstration, lightly grasping the tips of your fingers together to form a lazy ‘O’ and gesturing for him to do the same. Luffy grips the middle of his shaft on the second attempt after floating his hand around the head. 

“Then you’ll want to pump into it a few times.” You pump your hand ring into the air, one that he followed suit around his dick.

His movement is stagnant and uncoordinated, imitating your motions with a waver. His hand shakes in all different directions, making his dick shift like a goddamn joystick. But it’s enough to start stimulating himself.

Slowly, his shaft begins to grow a little more.

And more. And more. And…

…Holy shit.

“Like this?” Luffy asks.

“Y-yeah, Luffy, it’s working,” you say, slack-jawed.

If the “D” in his middle name didn't stand for “dick,” you don’t know what would.

His hand gripped around the base of his shaft is now a fraction of the entire length, whereas previously, it covered everything but the head. Maybe his dick was still flaccid when he took it out. If that’s the case, bro was packing a fucking monster this whole time??

And you realize how much you’ve been staring.

“What now?” Luffy’s voice puts you back to reality.

“Well, there's one more thing that helps.” You get up slowly, your legs trembling a bit. You shake it off and walk off to the side to reach into the confines of your drawer again. What you pull out after rustling through the clothes is the small bottle of lube, almost empty from this morning’s events. You shake the bottle back and forth before popping the top open and reaching for Luffy’s hand. Although he looks at it quizzically, he obliges to give you an outstretched palm when you reach for it. You squirt a quarter-sized amount, which slowly spreads around the surface. 

You motion for him to close and open his hand, making him spread the lube to the rest of his palm and fingers. He grimaces at the sight, watching the sticky substance break apart into small strings before separating, but he still looks back at you for more directions.

“Good, okay, go ahead and do what you did earlier.”

He nods, eyes now filled with determination for a newfound purpose. With one hand toying with the fabric on his clothed thigh, the other hand encircles his girth again, now barely touching fingertips as he starts to move up and down the shaft. It doesn’t take long for the lube to spread across his length, leaving small beads that move everytime he glides over them. 

“This is feels different. This feels,” He trails off, but you can tell by the fluidity in his arm that the stimulation feels better…

You’re really gawking now. You rip your eyes away and stand up from the bed.

“Well, you keep doing that until, you know… alright, I have to leave, I hope you—”

Luffy whines your name. You feel a hand grab your wrist gently, immediately removing his grasp when you turn around.

“Wait.” Luffy's eyes set on where he touched you, then back to your eyes.

“What is it?” You ask. You look down to see his dick still in his hand, stroking up and down. You swear there’s a pink tinge dusted on the apples of his cheeks.

“I need to know if I’m doing it right!” 

“Yeah, Luffy, but God, you want me to watch you while you do it?” You ask.

“Is that such a big deal?” Luffy gives you puppy dog-like eyes, almost offended that you don’t want to look at him. “I thought you said you were gonna help me.” Luffy says sheepishly, lowering his eyebrows.

Obviously, it is a big deal, but he’s so innocent for his own damn good that you can’t even argue with him at this point. He really doesn’t want you to leave, but you’ve wanted to keep his privacy as a top priority. Regardless, you know your say on things won’t get you anywhere, now. You swallow a lump down your throat.

“I guess it’s not.” You sit back next to him. 

His feet sit firm on the plush pink carpet, he continues.

“So?” You hear his breath hitch, seeing his lips purse a little. His voice is quiet now. “Am I… doing it right?”

“Yes, you are.” You say. “If you need to, you can also control the pressure by squeezing or loosening your grip, slowing down or speeding up your hand, too.” You do some more motions with your hand, pumping it in the air with different speeds. He nods before focusing on his hand. 

He changes his pace, you see his hand lose tension around his member and go slow for a few pumps as he tests the feeling. You watch your captain languidly pump his length back and forth, before he hums his disapproval. You see his hand start to speed up now. Small veins from his hand to his arms start to peak out from the firmness of his grip.

Luffy’s breath hitches again, this time at the change of pace, brows now furrowed a little.

“Okay, how long do I go for?”

“As long as you want to, but usually, there is a good stopping point. You’re trying to cum–uh, climax, which is where it feels the best, but you’ll know when that is when your penis… well you’ll see,” you shift. You hope it’s not too long. Luffy is a guy–a beginner–, so you’ll assume he won’t last long for his first time.

You realize the words sound crude coming out of your mouth, but if you could figure it out by yourself years ago, Luffy can too with a rudimentary explanation. The whole time, Luffy focuses on your words in agog, fully digesting each part. He goes right back to pumping himself with a firm nod.

“That means I’m doing it right?” He asks.

“Yes, Luffy, youre doing it right.”

“Okay.”

You’re limited in what you should say at this point. His vest is unbuttoned, revealing a chest that heaves after each firm thrust of his arm. He’s starting to throw his head back slovenly, the lids of his eyes lowering until they shut tight together. You don’t think you can look at his face anymore. At least without having a deep pool collect in your stomach. This is purely for Luffy and his educational purposes, after all. It’s stupid of you to feel anything more than that.

Your eyes nail to the wall, the very same place you chucked the bottle of lube at when Luffy first found you, trying to stifle the urge to stare. It’s futile, however, all you can hear is the small shallow huffs from the side of you. Luffy notices your sudden disassociation, however. 

“You can keep looking.” He says quietly.

“R-right.”

You look down at his hand, which moved from the shorts on his thigh to the mess of the sheets between you two. There are the veins on his skin you only see when he’s fighting, popping out from his forearms to the back of his hand. 

One particular pump makes him whimper loudly, whipping his head back more and parting his lips. Then another, one that makes the whiny groan in his throat linger in the air, until his legs dart wider apart, clacking his knee against yours. The quick force of it makes you jump in your skin, letting out a squeak that snaps his head forward. His brown eyes search for you, darting between you irises with low lids.

Something strange has been setting you off.  

With you specifically. You squirm in your place on the bed, only a few inches from your captain jacking himself off, feeling his pleasure so well, so vocally , and now looking at you with the eyes he has after being starved and seeing a feast. Dark, enticing, needy hues, but this time, so aroused . The musk from his body is so— 

“Hey,” Luffy calls out your name again. His voice has a waver in it now, a sound not lost on you, and one that is dripping more with the feeling of desire, of lust , that you certainly detect. The entire time you’ve known Luffy, you’ve never heard his voice have such a neediness in it. You never would’ve guessed it was possible. Your thighs shift together subconsciously, creating some space between your once-grazing legs.

 “Am I doing it good?” He whines again. Its so breathless, so lovely. That voice so coaxed with fervor. Each word lingers a little bit more in the air the more he speaks, making your face hot and body hotter.

“Yes. Yes Luffy, you are.” You whisper. “Do you feel good?” A small sound comes out of Luffy’s mouth after your words come out. It’s almost like a hiccup, one that erupt throughout his body as his hips jut forward.

“I, think so,” He says, he looks all over your body, “Yeah, I do feel good.”

Your breath hitches. There’s a pause that feels like hours have replaced seconds.

“I feel good when you say that,” Luffy whines. “I think.”

Your chest swells as you look into his eyes. You see they’re staring right back at your face, looking at each individual feature like it’s the first time he’s seen you. Like, really seeing you. 

“What do you mean, Luffy?” 

“When you tell me I'm doing a good job. Hahh ,” Luffy moans. You see his eyes dart to your lips which you didn’t realize until now that your biting between your teeth. “Am I still doing it?”

“Yes, Luffy, so, so good.”

Is it wrong for you to enjoy seeing this? His hand palms the sheets more, head whipped back again from firm, languid pumps to his dick, and he’s whining from it now. He sounds so desperate for release, so welcoming for every tinge of pleasure he receives from himself that builds up more towards an awaited ecstasy.

His head lazily tilts towards you, his eyes open and on you, drinking up the very essence of you.

It almost feels like you’re naked. 

“Please...” He mewls out, which commands your attention from whatever haze it’s in. 

“‘Please’ what, Luffy?” Your voice is a thin veil of what it was prior, with an airy breath that crashes with the impermeable heat radiating from his body. 

“I don’t- mmph!-“ Another delectable whine escapes his lips. He continues, “I don’t know, just–ahh, please – “ 

The hand previously entangled in the sheets finds purchase on your shoulder, his needy fist grasping the strap of your tank top. The abrupt move causes your stance to falter due to his inadvertently tugging you down closer. Your eyes are level now, with your noses just a hair from touching. Your hands land on his thighs, and Luffy’s pace falters while his breath hitches at your touch. 

Luffy stares at you, and your senses are overwhelmed; His brown eyes seem to swallow your closest features, the hot breaths and hiccups that escape his mouth ghost upon your lips, and the downright filthy sounds his lubed hand makes against his cock have you reeling. He never takes his eyes off of you, even as his expression shifts to desperation and his whines evolve into needy whimpers.

“Tell me… mngh that I’m doing good, I’m still doing good, yeah?” You notice his fingers flex in the grasp he has on you. For a brief moment, you wonder how it would feel to have even one of those thick fingers inside of you. 

“You’re doing…so good. You’re so good at touching yourself, Luffy… good boy .” The rational part of your mind is shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, but the way Luffy’s leg twitches and breath wavers at the sound of praise from your lips silences any rationality you may be harboring. 

Almost under his breath, he murmurs out a reply whilst his gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips; “Yeah, I’m..” he begins, “...your good–“

Before you can even muster a reply, He whimpers in a voice you never heard, your name wavering on his tongue, instantly stealing your attention and giving you a bellowing heartbeat. 

“I feel something.” He says, letting his words faded out with a breathless huff. “Something new , hahh, I don’t…”

“Yeah, I–I know that.” 

“What do I… do I do?” His lids are low when he looks at you, pleading for an answer in the colors of your eyes. Your chest feels tight from his small voice, encompassed by a lit flame inside that compels you to speak.

“If you want, please keep going.” You breathe, a horribly devious idea coming to your head. It’s a want to push him further to the edge. “You’re doing so good, Luffy.”

“ Mmmh. ”

You don’t know what’s worse: In the beginning, when Luffy revealed to you and only you his desire when watching you touch yourself, or hear his lustful whines and moans that only elevate because of you. Your voice being the thing your strong captain, with a bounty of countless berries, needs right now. His pleas and wants make you want to see the end of this. 

Luffy pants more now, loosened hair clinging to his forehead, tongue peaking out to moisten his lips as his eyes start to squeeze shut. His pace is faster now as he groans in delight, quickly learning a pace and intensity that he needs . It’s an instinct of his he never knew, a yearning programmed in his brain that compels him to stroke his length faster, it’s a yearning you share as you watch thick beads of precum drip out. 

It was extremely enticing. His plush lips once encased in smiles now slackjaws in stuttering breaths. His chest is heaving in a way you’ve never seen in his fights—whereas his chest hollows out in deep, robust pillars of breath during a battle, it’s now unsure, uncertain, but so daring to steal another fading breath. 

Watching your captain build this unsteady breathing tempo, the way his arm juts around as his eyes languidly blink, and most of all, the way his hand grips and pumps onto himself. You can see from his jutting hips and louder huffs that he’s close, and you can practically see his way to climax. But you know something is very off.

As his arm starts to shake a little more each time, just as Luffy mewls his loudest, starting to hitch his breath, starting to garble unintelligible things, closer and closer to a sweet release. Suddenly, he releases the grip from your shoulder, fingers unclench as it wavers, flinching up and down in the air. In an instant, he grabs onto your plush thigh with such strength you do more than flinch. You moan loud. Luffy doesn’t notice your voice, though; he’s too preoccupied with the fireworks that are going off in his head.

That’s when you register what’s wrong.

You hear knocks on the deck above you. It’s footsteps of people.

It’s the crew.

Your uneven breathing once aroused and whining from Luffy is now panicked in fear. You look to him; he’s so close now you can see his lids flutter.

There’s no way they won't hear him. You huff against him, seeing him teeter, hand gripping on you, moving closer and closer to your crotch. You decide to do something you didn’t think twice  about until you moved in towards Luffy.

“ I, I’m …— mmf! ” Luffy pants, but is swiftly cut off by you. Your lips bury themselves against his, so rugged and rough that Luffy’s eyes widen against it. Your hand latches on to the side of his head, intertwining the fingers with his black hair as you push into him. You feel his whole body jolt, going so stiff except for his rapidly moving arm until it suddenly stops. 

Luffy moans against your lips, pushing against you so hard you feel the vibration of his vocal chords. His lids lower, eyes unfocused as he starts to helplessly whimper into your mouth. 

You feel small, warm ropes of liquid sputter onto your arm, your shirt, reaching all the way to his neck as he whines again and again. All tries to moan his orgasm are stiffle by your mouth against his, the sounds muffling enough that you know they won’t hear. 

You move you lips away, seeing a small string of saliva before it quickly breaks, and you realize how fast you need to act before the crew comes.

When his moans are replaced with breathy huffs, and his hands lay comatose at his sides. You spring into action. Your shirt is already covered in ropes of cum, so it’s the first thing you decide to change. You rip off your shirt, revealing your chest to Luffy right next to you. You cover your hand with the fabric and wipe down the cum on your arm in one fluid motion. You rub the stain off of your neck. Luffy’s body follows suit. A frantic apology leaves your lips as you clean his chest, arm, and hand with your shirt. You toss it, immediately grabbing for a clean shirt from the neglected pile of laundry. Once its shimmied on, you whip to Luffy, another apology as you lift the hem of his boxers, trapping his half-hard member inside before hiking his boxers and shorts back up, buttoning and zipping up the fly with speed that Luffy doesn’t say anything.

In Luffy’s daze, you rush him out of the girls’ room to the hallway. You straighten his back out, make sure all of his clothes are straight on him, and try to act as normal as possible. Normal like you didn’t just teach your captain how to jack off. Or kiss him.

Almost on cue, some of the crew appear into the hall. Smiling when they see you and Luffy. All except Ussop, who immediately clamors to Luffy as soon as he registers him.

“You!” Ussop points to him, stomping over to Luffy with a vengeance. “Where the hell were you? I was looking for you everywhere, man!”

Luffy just looks at him, partially confused, partially still in a post-nut delirium. 

Ussop is hammering into him something, you honestly aren’t paying attention, as you see the other crewmates walk down. The girls come next, both carrying comically large numbers of shopping bags. Sanji is following them, practically hovering behind them as he asks them about their time. You see a patch of moss-colored hair and some bones too, they wave their salutations before heading to different areas of the ship. 

You smile and wave back at everyone, putting on a curt smile. 

“So? That doesn’t give you an excuse to ot say anything before you leave. Jeez, what am I gonna do with you.”

Luffy manages to shrug, the larger half of his indifference showing towards Ussop, but you are at least relieved to see he’s starting to use some braincells. Ussop starts to sniff in the air when he catches a whiff of something. He steps towards Luffy.

“Ew, Luffy, you reek like…” Ussop stops, pauses for a second to look at you. You’re only a few feet away from them, but with his puzzled glance it feels like your seeing things through a wide lens. His attention immediately jumps back to Luffy when he breathes in, wrinkling his nose a little as Luffy tries to step back. Ussop doesn’t let him, gripping the front of his shirt. “Dude, you need to take a bath anyway. It’s been way too long.”

“What? No way? I hate that tub, I get all weak and stuff!” Luffy groans. For his last attempt, he pries each finger off of his vest, but Ussop turns to him and jerks both of his hands around the nape of his collar. 

“You’re going now!” Ussop shouts, walking away and hauling Luffy with him.

“Nooo. Help me! AHHHH!” Luffy screams, kicking his legs against the floorboards as his hands scramble at his collar. With no luck, Ussop drags him down the hall with immense irritation. It’s honestly surprising how well Ussop can manhandle the captain. They disappears around the corner of the hallway, but not without Ussop giving you a glance and following. The eye he gives you sends a chill down your spine. Does he know what happened? 

Oh God. 

You attention is immediately stolen as a mop of blonde hair whisks you around to face his figure. The cook takes your hands in his so gently.

“Ah, mademoiselle, I hope you’re doing alright.” Sanji kisses your hand. “Was it alright being on the ship by yourself?”

“Yeah! Um, it was, uh… things were okay, I guess.” You spit out. In your mind, you curse yourself for sounding so obviously not okay, but it doesn’t seem like Sanji notices.

“Ahh, if only I hadn’t promised Luffy to take him to that restaurant, I would’ve spent it with you.” He cooes. “That idiot captain barely stayed with us before he disappeared to wherever God knows. I wasted my time instead of pampering a delicate lady.”

So he really did sneak away. was it really all because of you?

“Oh, I see, maybe next time.” You plaster on a not-so-convincing smile, but it was just enough for Sanji, as he let go off you and instantly ran towards Nami, who was walking towards you too.

It seems that Sanji had flailed his arms wide open to try and embrace Nami before he was promptly shut down by Nami’s right hook. He falls head first on the floor.

“Hey girl!” Nami says, entirely ignoring Sanji’s limp body as she steps over him, as ruthless as ever. “I got you some things.” She smiles, rustling through her loads of bags in hand.

A humongous gift bag with pretty tissue paper poking out of the edges is put in your hands, you look at her quizzically.

“Thanks, Nami! But what’s with the fancy bag?” You ask. When you take it, your arm almost gives out from the sheer weight of the contents. What the hell is in here? You think.

“Just a little something I think you should have,” she wries. Nami has one of those grins on; the one where you know she’s up to mischief. “Tell me how you like them,” She says before scampering off, almost stepping on Sanji’s twitching body in the process.

Robin comes up behind you and giggles. “She said you need a wardrobe change soon when we start shopping. I couldn’t stop her.” She smiles, now hold up a small bag of her own from a slew of other ones she had. “Here, take this.”

“Aw thanks!”

“No problem, it’s just what you asked for, by the way.” She winks, before also walking around you. 

You hear the hinges creak behind you, meaning she’s opening the door to the girls’ dorm. Robin’s footsteps stop, making your heart drop to the goddamn floor.

“You seemed to be busy in here.”

You turn around, remembering the state you left the room in. The girls’ clothes that were once neatly stacked on your bed are either knocked over, greatly disheveled or both. Robin looks back at you with minor confusion.

“Oh!” Your voice cracks as you shimmy past her figure in the doorway, rushing back to the bedside. “About that. The ship was… rocky earlier.”

“At dock?” She asks with her usual soft smile, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, um. I’ll fix it up, sorry for the mess.” You look down at the edge of the sheets, now noticing the small beads of bodily fluids from earlier. You quickly fold over the wrinkles formed on the sheet to cover it up. Robin’s on the other side of the room at this point, setting down the bags and sorting through them.

“I don’t mind it at all. Just make sure Nami doesn’t see her clothes on the floor. I don’t think I can help you there.” Robin giggles.

You look between you and Nami’s bed, seeing a pile of her baby tees toppled off the bed and lay unfolded on the floor. You yank it back onto the bed immediately.

“Right.” You say. Jesus, how much sweat is on your face at this point. From how wildly embarrassed you’ve reacted, she must think something is up.

Thankfully, Robin seems to have not noticed, or at least dropped the subject. She’s now in the corner of the room. Taking the things out her and Nami’s bags and hanging them up on the closet while she hums a soft tune.

“Cute shirt, too.” Robin softly says. 

In horror, you look down, realizing the shirt you threw on was Robin’s old Galley-La shirt.

“Thanks.” You stammer.

Robin is almost a decade older than you. She’s in a relationship, and you hoping to God she doesn’t realize what you’ve been up to. Ussop’s questioning glance towards you tells you they both noticed something. Your heartbeat was frantic now.

You excuse yourself as you slip yourself out of the girls’ room, frantically scurrying to the deck. You need some fresh air. Now.

At the deck's side railing, your feet brush on top of the soft bed of grass of the Sunny. You watch the waves brush up against the hull, gently lapping up against the wood before dispersing into the air. Tashini's shoreline is only a few yards away, greeting each ebb and flow of seawater.

You take a deep breath of the night air, releasing it with a languid sigh. Your hands have stopped shaking at least, but a feeling of morose still creeps into the back of your mind. Your heart beats at a regular tempo but with an echo that confuses you. You take a deep breath again.

You should probably change out of Robin's shirt now.

[skulla-rxcks]

Was that message for me?

Paring: friend!bang chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: PIV, mutual msturbation, friends trope, chan thinks the message wasn’t for him, slight daddy kink, oral, fingèring

Asking best friend!Chan for help orgasming.. but he thinks the message wasn’t for him

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Heyy can you come over? I need help :(”

“Why? You okay? What do you need help with?”

“I can’t seem to cum. Every time I try to orgasm I just seem to can’t, it’s like I’m stopped.”

“Were you meant to say that to me?” Chan asks typing his fingers across his phone, clearly confused. This message wasn’t meant for him.. right?

“Wdym?”

“You asked for help with.. you know.. uh things. That wasn’t meant for me right?”

He looks at his phone, his brows furrowing in confusing as he reads over the explicit question asked.

“Chris just come over please. It’s easier to talk in person”

I sigh my mood changing to regret as I can already see the confusion in his face even though I can’t physically see him through my phone. I end up receiving a thumbs up in response ‘thank god I didn’t just mess up our friendship completely’ I sigh in relief; and about twenty or so minutes later I hear the door bell ring; getting up from my bed and exiting my room I go and answer it, opening the door to Chan, clearly questioning what the fuck just happened not too long ago.

“So im guessing it was for me if you asked me to come over..? You did use my name after all.” He steps inside, making his way to my living room and taking a seat on the couch, I sit down next to him, both of us completely flustered.

“I’m really sorry for bringing this up I know it’s probably a bit uncomfortable talking about something like this but-” Chan cuts me off, looking at me with concern.

“No no don’t worry it’s fine! I uh, get like that sometimes I understand.. do you not own toys or anything that could.. give you a hand?” I shake my head, looking embarrassed for bringing this ‘issue’ up to someone who I’d probably consider my guy best friend.

“No.. I mean, I use the handle of my hair brush sometimes but I’ve never had this issue before.” I blush, why am I asking him about something like this? I feel like I’m going to cry out from embarrassment.

He sighs, noticing how uncomfortable I am and how much I trust him to even bring up an issue like this.

“Have you tried anything else? Pillow humping?.. uhh… maybe use more fingers if you.. never mind I’m so sorry I sound really perverted giving suggestions haha.” He laughs, trying to lighten the mood and get some of the tension out of the air that’s filling the room.

“No! Don’t worry Chan it’s fine.. I’m finding it helpful to talk about this stuff..” I mumble under my breath.

“Okay well.. are you stressed? Maybe that’s the reason I’ve heard that stress can stop people from orgasming sometimes?” He suggests, trying to get to the bottom of whatever’s happening. “I’m not sure. Can you give me a hand and see if that’s the problem maybe? I uh, maybe if someone helps me I’ll be able to..”

Chan nods slowly looking into my eyes for permission before reassuring himself with his words. “So you want me to.. help you cum? Like you want me to touch you or..” He scrunches his face, a hint of lust glazing over his features, his soft lips puckering with his expressions, a mix of frowns and smiles cover them.

I Look away, fiddling with my own hands. “If that’s okay.. hopefully it doesn’t ruin our relationship or anything.” I blush, fluttering my eyelashes at him, silently pleading for more. “Of course if that’s what you need to make you feel better then I’m happy to oblige, especially if I’m the one who can make you cum.” He chuckles, the top of his ears turning red.

I smile, beginning to take off my sweat pants along with my panties, watching as he strips himself of his bottom half as well.

“So what now..?” I ask. “Maybe we should start with mutual masturbation.. don’t wanna rush things, you know?” He smiles politely. What a gentle man he is, not rushing into anything fast, even though I’d be happy for whatever he wants to do first with me. “Okay” I nod, picking up our pants and bringing him to my bedroom and sitting down with him. “You know how to do this right?”

“We just.. masturbate side by side?” I look at him. Receiving a nod. I look at him as he starts to wrap his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly before picking up speed, the site of his dick making my insides ache and my cunt twitch with need. Watching him, I slowly thrust two fingers inside of my hole, curling them up to hit my g spot, my eyes however, are hooked onto his dick, watching him like he’s some sort of drug to me, drawing me in more and more with every stroke.

“You’re staring quite a bit, you okay?” He giggles, rubbing his spare hand on my thigh reassuringly. “Yeah yeah it’s just.. wow, I never expected to do something like this with you.. I mean, you’re probably one of my best friends after all” I shuffle closer to him, my pussy twitching around my fingers as I think about how his dick would feel inside of me; raw or protected I don’t care, I wonder how good he’d feel inside of me with his thick length, if he’d let me cum immediately or if he’d dominate me and use me to his liking; controlling whether or not I’m allowed to cum as I squirm under him.

I finally decide to let my horny thoughts get a hold of me. “I want you.. but I still can’t seem to..”

“You have me, princess. What’s on your mind?” He says, looking into my eyes with concern, noticing how needy I’m getting. He probably noticed how I was twitching around my fingers and lost in my thoughts. “I’m wondering how.. how your..” I try to get my words out but they’re tied back against my throat. “How my what?” He teases, clearly enjoying this side of me. “Tell me or I won’t give it to you, yeah?”

I nod, “I’m wondering how your dick would feel inside of me.. e-every inch and the thickness of it stretching me open.. how you’d treat me differently while I’m under you or on top.” I look away after finally spilling my words out, feeling my cheeks get hot. There’s so much more I want to say but it would take hours.

“Do you wanna stop wondering and try it out? Id be lying if I said I wasn’t wondering similar things about your pretty little pussy.. wonder how tight you are and how your face contorts as you make a pretty mess all over my dick.” He teases, reaching over into my lap to stroke his fingers over my clitoris, making me squirm with need.

“Please Chan.. Please Chris..” I beg him, using both of his names. “Good girl. Protection or no protection?” He asks, wanting to know my preference or if I want him to fill me up with his hot seed or not.

“As much as I want to risk it.. I don’t wanna accidentally you know, get impregnated and regret it once I’m not extremely fucking horny.”

“Mm that’s okay.. hopefully one day you’ll let me pump that cunt of yours up full of my cum, hm?” Chan smirks, enjoying making me into a soaking wet needy mess with his words.

He lifts his shirt over his head exposing his bare muscular body as he climbs on top of me. “Be a good girl and take your bra off for me, let me see those tits..” “yes da-“ I pause, realising what almost came out of my mouth. “Daddy huh? Fuck that made me so turned on.” He groans, reaching into his bag and finding a condom before rolling it onto his dick. While he does that I obey his order and unclip my bra, my breasts now being on display.

He licks his lips at the site of me now laying under him completely naked and vulnerable, dripping and ready for his cock. Chan positions himself at my entrance and pushes in, making me let out a moan of pleasure.

“Chris oh my god..!” I cry out, savouring the feeling of how his cock fills up my dripping needy cunt perfectly, slowly calming the urges inside of me but slowly making me want more. “Shh you’re okay.. just focus on how good I feel inside this pretty pussy, okay?”

“M-mhm..” a whimper leaves my mouth before feeling Chan press his lips against mine, his tongue parting my lips and our tongues now dancing and tangling together as his hands slowly creep their way down to my breasts massaging and playing with them making me squirm under him with even more need pulsing through my body as a result of his actions. “So fucking tight just for me..” he murmurs Into the kiss, beginning to plunge his dick in and out of my hole harder and faster. “Y-yes only for you daddy… I’m all yours ” I moan, parting away from the kiss to look into his eyes, my brain studying every scrunch and frown of pleasure lurking upon his face.

Fuck, I imagine how he must feel pounding and ruining me raw, without protection; every vein and every pulse as more blood runs to his dick making him grow and twitch inside of me. God, how I want him to fill me up and impregnate me with his children so Fucking badly. It’s definitely not right for our first time being intimate though.

“Whatcha thinking about now baby girl?” He teases again, pumping his length deeper into my pussy, I can’t even get a solid response out of my mouth it feels so fucking good. “So loud.. you gonna cum? You gonna make a mess all around my dick?”

“A-ah.. yes.. yes.. soon!” I cry, feeling myself tighten around him as I creep up the road to reach my peak. “So loud..” he chuckles, connecting his lips to my breast sucking gently on my nipple as I let loose a soft scream that turns into a loud moan as I feel him pound his length deeper Into me.

My back arching slightly from the pressure, tears starting to well up in my eyes as a loud string of moans leave my lips.

“Come for me baby~ Come for daddy~”

And so I did, screaming and crying louder than I ever had before, clenching him tighter, cumming around his cock. HARD.

Not long after I feel Chan reach his too, filling up the condom, making me feel a little bubble inside of me before pulling out, tying it up and properly disposing of it. “You sound so pretty when you cum baby? May I eat you out? Show you I can make you cum in more ways than one?” He chuckles, clearly amused with himself at the mess he’s created

“Please..” I pout, the thought of his plush soft lips against my clit and his tongue thrusting in and out of my needy little hole making me go feral.

“Only for you.” he smirks. I shivering as he slowly makes his way down to my cunt, licking and trailing his tongue down from my breasts until he reaches his desired destination. He grips his hands around my thighs, gently prying them open before attaching his lips to my now swollen clitoris flicking it with his tongue as his beady brown eyes look up at me and watch while I throw my head back in pleasure. “C-Chris..! Ah..”

“You taste just as good as you look..” Chan groans into my pussy, making me whimper even more this time due to the vibrations of his voice flowing through me and my pussy. “Fuck! You’re ruining me..!~” I sob out in pleasure, my hand reaching down to push his face deeper into my folds, needing more of his mouth, which only causes him to start moving his tongue and lips faster.

“Chris!! Don’t do that ill-“ I try to warn him but it’s too late, I’ve already made a mess of myself all over his face.

“Well at least you’re not complaining are you?” God, even his way of words makes me so horny.

I shake my head. “Good girl. My good girl.” He grins, moving his head up from my crotch to my face, forcing his lips on mine making me taste myself. “Mmph!?-“ I gasp against his lips as he pushes two fingers inside of me, bending them and moving them back and forth against that sweet spot inside of me.

“You like that baby girl? Tell me what you like about my hands.. since you stare at them so often you must have some naughty thoughts about them, yeah?” Chan pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting our lips as he waits for my response.

“Y-yes.. I.. i Imagine your fingers in me as I touch myself, but f-fuck they’re so much better and faster than mine.” I connect my lips back to his, our tongues beginning to swirl and twirl again. “Get on your knees for me.” He demands me, I let out a whine of disappointment as he pulls his fingers out of my pussy. “Mhm..” I smile, getting down on my knees and looking up at him. “I ate your pretty little pussy so now it’s time for you to wrap that mouth around me.,”

“Yes”

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Such a good girl you are, already knowing your place” he praises. I wrap my mouth around his already dripping cock and start taking him Into my mouth, sucking him. The flavour of his precum hitting my taste buds making me feel special, making me feel that I’m maybe definitely more than a friend to him.

“You wanna take me deeper? Think you can do it?” I nod, my mouth filled with his dick, I take him deeper and deeper, slowly beginning to deep throat him. Accidentally gaging around his length in the process.

“Your throats so tight baby. Im Gonna cum soon fucking swallow every drop of me.” I look up at him, he’s biting his lip as he spills his seed down my throat, I swallow it all, hungry for every bit of his cock, I whine slightly as he pulls out of my mouth, a tiny bit of his semen still dripping down my chin, I lick it up greedily.

“Good girl. Did you get what you wanted? Happy you could finally cum?”

I nod, now laying down with him and snuggling my head against his chest like a lost kitten.

“If you ever need help again don’t hesitate to call me baby girl.”

“Same for you Chris.”

[bobbin-buckley]

Hi! Could you write some jealous gp!caitlyn headcanons? <3

G!P Caitlyn Kirammin Headcanons

G!P Caitlyn Kirammin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: G!p Caitlyn, basically just headcanons and smut but fluff too, jealous Caitlyn, all mentioned! breeding kink, public sex, praising, orgasm denial

Caitlyn

You

꧁~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~꧂

-To start off with, I’d say she’s packing a lot. She’s big. I would say at least seven inches

-For awhile Caitlyn never told you that she was ‘different’, than other girls for awhile even when dating. She didn’t want to scare you off or anything, honestly she was a bit insecure about her size. To you was it too big or too small?

-Now after having sex with her for the first time, you felt like you were on top of the clouds. With how big she was she could reach pretty deep in you

-When Caitlyn heard about your past dating experiences, she was pretty jealous that other people have dated you before her. So every time you guys have sex she’s all about making you hers, pounding deeper without thought

-Her hands grip your hips possessively when she makes deep thrusts, she wants to claim you.

-There have been times where she’s admit about wanting to breed you, which really turned you on

“Cmon baby, take it.”

“You can take this big cock right? Fuck you’re so pretty under me..”

“Maybe I outta’ stuff you with my cum, breed this pretty pussy.”

-When you both went to a party together for the first time, you were wearing a pretty revealing outfit that made her rethink the decision of bringing you to that party. She knew damn well other people’s eyes would be on you

-She was right. Lots of men and women were eying you, all dreaming to fuck you but Caitlyn would never even let them talk to you. She was surprisingly possessive, but you found it hot

-After a couple of hours at the party she couldn’t handle it anymore, it surprised you she waited that long.

-Throughout the party you had teased her, talked to other men and women. That bulge growing in her pants whenever you did something that turned her on. She hates it when you put on a show for others

-One time you nearly did a strip tease to someone else because you were drunk af, she dragged you away to a bathroom and fucked you out of jealousy. You’ll never forget that night

-Now after a night of you teasing her, making her jealous and desperate she’ll either fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, crying for her to stop. (Obviously she’ll stop once you give her the red light that it’s too much). Or she’ll deny every orgasm and have you make her cum instead

“Such a slut teasing me in front of everyone, you think you can just show off to everyone?”

“Mmhh…make me cum baby, and maybe…maybe I’ll let you cum too.”

-During a family meeting, you were talking with her mother for most of the time. It was very typical of Cassandra to be questioning you and talking with you the entire family party.

-She was jealous of how your attention wasn’t on her, thankfully she was wearing a dress so her hardening cock wasn’t visible. That’s how jealous and desperate she was

-Now you weren’t always the one being punished, she would get punished by you from being so impatient

-The first time that happened, you’ve never seen Caitlyn so…submissive. She may come off as a silly but concentrating woman when it comes to being an Enforcer but damn she’s honestly so hot as a bottom when she is

-Teasing her swollen tip as you tell her how bad she’s been, how she should be more patient next time.

-Your lips tease her tip too, licking it and chuckling when she whimpers for more

-Sometimes if you’re nice enough you’ll ride her but it becomes slowly and painful as you deny her orgasms when she’s close.

“See who’s the desperate slut now? How does it feel being denied?”

“Nuh uh, didn’t say you could cum just yet.”

“D-darling please…I-I’m sorry,”

“F-fuck…wanna cum so bad..”

“Not yet, cupcake.”

꧁~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~꧂

[chukys-mouthguard]

oscar winning tears

featuring -> quinn hughes x female reader

genre -> angst, fluff

summary-> inspired by ‘oscar winning tears’ by raye

note -> thinking of this becoming a mini series possibly? If anyone would be interested?

“You’re fucking joking, are you kidding me?”

Quinn’s shouting echoed off the walls of your shared bedroom as he halted his packing. The news caught him off guard as you sat on the bed, arms wrapped around your legs as you held them tight to your chest. Feeling awful for what you’d told him, but you had no choice.

“I wish I was Quinn, but I just got the call an hour ago. I have no choice!”

Quinn let out a snarky laugh as he resumed packing his suitcase, shaking his head as he moved about the room.

“You do have a choice, you’ve had a choice since the day you met me y/n. This is going to be one of the biggest nights of my career, and you’re canceling on me for a meeting?”

“Yes Quinn, a meeting that happens to be one of the biggest in my career! Look, I’m sorry that I refuse to be some stay at home WAG that cooks and cleans the house all day while you’re the one off making money and having a career. But I just don’t understand why you can’t support me in my career like I support you?”

Quinn scoffed as he zipped the suitcase shut, “yeah, some supportive girlfriend you are! I gotta go.”

Pulling his bag from the bed he grabbed his wallet and phone from his dresser as he headed downstairs, his ride waiting to take him to the airport. You knew that it was best to let him go, when fights like this happened it was better to end it once one of you walked away. But you were less stubborn as Quinn, you hated the idea of walking away from one another after saying something hateful. Especially when one of you is about to get on a plane for several hours.

“Quinn, wait!”

Hurrying down the stairs you tried your best to stop him, but he was already loading his things into the car. As he closed the trunk he looked to you, as if waiting for whatever it was you had to say.

“I love you, I’m so proud of you.”

He made his way to the side of the car, climbing in, he didn’t say anything back. Your heart sinking in your chest, though you told yourself it’s just Quinn being Quinn. The sound of the window rolling down stopped you from heading back into the house, a stern look on Quinn’s face as he spoke, “Call you when I land,” and with that he was gone.

-

Quinn was nervous, you could tell by his body language as his fingers picked at the arm of the couch he was seated on. Impatiently awaiting the announcement this entire night centered around for him. How you wished you could have been there. To hold his hand and keep him calm, to reassure him that whether he won or lost you still loved him and were so incredibly proud of him. But alas work had other plans, and you were left to watch from home on the couch with the rest of the world.

“And the winner of the James Norris Memorial Trophy is…”

You could feel your heart in your throat as you crossed your fingers, praying that his name would be called. The calm look on his face was simply a facade as you knew Quinn was probably laced with anxiety inside. His brothers beside him surely were doing the same as you, rooting for him as they always did.

“From the Vancouver Canucks, Quinn Hughes!”

“Yes!”

Your cheers echoed throughout the house as you jumped off the couch, clapping and cheering as you watched Quinn take the stage. You knew it was nothing to get emotional over, but you couldn’t help but shed a tear. Only a few people knew how hard he worked behind closed doors. What he went through day in and day out to be one of the top defenseman in the NHL. And now he could truly say, he was the top defenseman.

Thinking back to the argument the two of you had a few days ago, you started to question if Quinn was right. Despite always telling yourself that you wouldn’t give up your career for the typical WAG stay at home lifestyle, you were thinking of all the moments you could potentially be missing.

Though the NHL awards weren’t the biggest night in Quinn’s career, next it could be the Stanley Cup Final you’d be missing. And simply the idea of missing such a night for Quinn, you couldn’t imagine it. Though Quinn tries to respect your desire for your own career, you know he keeps a lot of his thoughts to himself. But after the last argument, you knew that it was getting harder and harder for him to keep those quiet.

-

“Baby?”

You heard Quinn’s voice echo throughout the house, followed by the sound of him setting down his bags. Quickly you hurried to put the finishing touches on your surprise dinner, the last step being to pour some of his favorite wine.

Just as you’d replaced the cork and set the bottle down Quinn turned the corner, a soft smile on his face as he looked over the candlelit dinner you’d prepared. He let out a sigh as he walked over to you, arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close.

Taking in the scent of your perfume he loved so much, his hand tracing up and down your back as he took his time appreciating your body in his embrace. Making sure you knew how much he missed you as he pulled back to steal a kiss from you.

“Hi.”

“Hi babe.”

You smiled up at him, slightly giggling as you could see how well you pulled off your surprise by the look on his face. He helped you into your seat at the dining table before taking his own.

“So, what is all this about?”

His eyes scanned the table as you took your glass in hand, holding it out for him to cheers you.

“Like you have to ask Mr. Norris Trophy Winner!”

He rolled his eyes embarrassed as he raised his glass, then pulled it to his lips to take a sip.

“Yeah yeah, I know you didn’t do all of this just for me winning that trophy babe.”

His tone caught you a bit off guard, though appreciative it also seemed laced with sarcasm and assumption.

“Really Quinn? Why can’t I do something nice for you? I mean, you want me to be this stay at home type. Cooking dinner, having the house clean for you when you come home. This is what you want right? And now I’m being criticized for it.”

Quinn immediately regretted his comments, not meaning them to come across the way they did. He just wasn’t used to surprise dinners from you, with work usually holding you up at the office and dinner not a common occurrence, Quinn couldn’t help but feel there was more to the act than just a simple dinner. But he certainly didn’t mean to accuse you of buttering him up.

“I’m sorry, honest. I didn’t mean, I just. You’re right, you aren’t this type of girl to surprise me with dinner on the table. And I didn’t think me winning that trophy was enough reason to become that type of girl. So, for that I am sorry.”

He took your hand in his as you tried to let your frustrations subside, not noticing the tears in your eyes until Quinn reached out to wipe one away.

“I’m sorry Quinn.”

“You’re sorry? For what babe?”

Trying to laugh off your emotions, you simply wiped your tears as you served some salad onto Quinn’s plate.

“I just, I thought about that argument we had. And I think that maybe you’re right. Maybe I should consider giving up my job. I’d be able to do things like this more, come to more games, be at award ceremonies and sit next to you and support you. I can’t do that now, and you deserve so much more than that. So I’m sorry, but I’ll figure something out and try to be better.”

Quinn grabbed your wrist and stopped your anxious serving of food, taking the tongs and bowl of salad from you. Setting them down on the table with a sigh as he could tell how much the argument affected you.

“Baby, please. I love you just the way you are. You don’t need to be better, you’re perfect. I’m a dick for ever telling you that your career isn’t important, or for making you think you needed to give that up for me. Would it be nice to have you around more? Of course! But I don’t want you to sacrifice all of that for me, this should be a compromise. And I can let my emotions or frustrations relax a bit when it comes to your schedule. It’s not like the extra stress on you is at all necessary, work puts you through the ringer as it is.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you tried your best to take what Quinn said as facts, but you knew deep down he hated your work schedule. He hated how often you missed games, or how many nights you spent late at the office missing the opportunity for dinner with him at home. Despite him telling you that your career wasn’t an issue, you couldn’t help but feel like he’d be better off with a typical WAG that stuck to social media or was something more flexible like an influencer.

“Quinn, I hear you, I do. But, maybe you’re just trying to justify things. I know you’d prefer it to be different, and, I’m willing to sacrifice because I love you and I-“

“Don’t you have a big work event coming up?”

“What?”

The question caught you off guard, work wasn’t something Quinn ever asked much about, so you weren’t sure how to respond.

“There’s like a big party or something coming up?”

“Oh, yeah, our company gala. It’s basically to recognize the success of the company over the last year and stuff. Why?”

“You’re being recognized right?”

Quinn laughed at your confused stare, wondering why you thought him being interested in your work was so wrong.

“Can I go?”

“Y-you wanna go?”

“Of course! I don’t think I’ve ever been able to go before, and I wanna support you just as you do for me! I promise I’ll prove to you that you don’t have to be some stay at home trophy WAG for me, okay?”

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 15 | Unspoken Words

“A pathetic what? Loser? Nerd? All bullshit labels you and your friends love throwing around?”

summary: it’s pouring rain outside and you’re in a heated argument with the so-called ‘loser skater boy’ of the school, Chris about your popular friend group constantly picking on him but you don’t know what you could possibly do about it, in the heat of the moment you accidentally confess your love for him that you’ve been bottling inside of you for ages now, how will Chris react to the sudden confession?

warnings: ANGST, heavy language, pouring rain, arguing, angry love confession, kissing, mentions of bullying & possibly more!

authors note: bro this is coming out so late I’m so sorry I seriously am having trouble keeping up with posting fics everyday I might just change the schedule for every two days so I have time to write the fic so from now on I’ll post NNN fics every two days and I’ll try to make them better too, luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

The rain was relentless, pouring down in heavy falls as I stood at the edge of the high school parking lot, glaring at him. Chris, the loser skater dude sat leaned against the slick metal of his beat-up board as water streamed down from his dark hair. It was a pathetic sight, really, the way he was looking at me through the downpour like he truly believed I’d stand there and listen to him whine while my friends were making his life miserable just a few feet away. “Chris, it’s not my fault they’re dicks! Just stand up for yourself!” I yelled, the wind whipping my words back into my face. I could see him flinch at the sharpness in my tone, but honestly? He was pissing me the fuck off right now.

“Easy for you to say,” he spat back, his voice rising above the rain. “You think I want to get into it with them? They’ve made my life hell since middle school. And here you are, acting like you’re above it all.” “Whatever, Chris! You could actually do something about it, but instead, you stand there like a pathetic—” before I could finish my sentence, he cut right into the middle of it. “A pathetic what? Loser? Nerd? All bullshit labels you and your friends love throwing around?” My heart raced as the fight quickly escalated, frustration spilling out of me like the rain pouring down but hee wasn’t wrong, I could feel my friends laughing as they made comments, snickering at his expense as they walked past us.

I was too stubborn to admit that it bothered me, to admit that I felt trapped between two worlds — my friends who I felt loyal to, and Chris, whose passion for skating and the freedom he radiated off him drew me in. “Why don’t you just tell them to stop?” I snapped, fists clenched at my sides. “Oh, right!” he emphasized each word through gritted teeth, “Because you know they’d listen to me. ‘Oh, look at the loser! What a joke!’” He was pacing now, waves of frustration beaming from him as he glared at me. I could tell he was hurt and that made it worse for me. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation, it seemed every time we met, our discussions turned into a bickering fight.

“Why can’t you just grow a backbone for once?” I found myself shouting, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Chris was the one person I didn’t want to keep fighting with. There was something inside me that pricked me at the thought of him being hurt—something that made me want to shield him from the world, even if I was part of the problem. “I get it, you’re popular, you have to keep up your perfect appearance.” His voice was cold and I hated that I could see right through it. “But that doesn’t mean you need to stand by while they bully someone who hasn’t done anything to you.”

The weight of his words hung between us, and for a moment, we both bathed in the silence, thunder rumbling in the background and threatening to strike. My breaths came ragged, and I could feel the frustration boiling over, a fierce mix of feelings I’d contained far too long. “Do you even care about them?” I shot back, suddenly feeling more bold, “I mean, seriously, do you care that I’m their friend? Or is it just about you being the victim here?” “Maybe if you gave them less attention, they’d stop. Ever think about that?” he shot back with a knife that cut deeper than any of my friends’ insults.

I took a step closer as rain soaked through my clothes, breath hitching as the heat between us crackled. “You think I’m just some heartless bitch, don’t you? You think I enjoy having these petty losers as friends? You know nothing about me,” I spat. He stepped forward, our faces inches apart as the storm raged around us. “So what’s stopping you from saying something? You’re the one with the power in this situation, right?” And just like that, the last strings broke inside me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shake him and make him understand. “You don’t get it at all, Chris! Maybe I don’t always know what the fuck to do! Maybe—” My voice trembled and before I could think about the honesty I’m about to spill, I continued, “Maybe I just didn’t know how to tell you I liked you!”

His eyes widened, surprise sparkling in them and my heart tripped over itself at my confession. My cheeks burned and beneath the rain, I could feel the silence swallow us whole. The storm around us was like background noise as everything I pooled inside of me far too long, unraveling and honest. My breath caught as he closed the distance, moving so smoothly it caught me off guard. “What are you do—” Before I could finish, he tilted my chin up and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was sudden as if he was attempting to drown out all the noise in my head, all the rambling I would never stop. It felt electric, warmth pulsing through my veins that made the rain fade into nothing.

When he finally pulled away, my pulse immediately started to race. I blinked up at him, confusion swirling inside of me. “Wait… Did you just really kiss me to shut me up?” He smirked, a shimmer of playfulness in his blue eyes. “Maybe,” he replied and I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension slowly dissolving into something lighter, something filled with hope. “So, popular girl, what now?” I hesitated but with a new fire building inside of me I grinned and said, “We show those little bastard who not to mess with.” And as the rain poured and drenching us both, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we’d figure it out together.

@hearts4werka |

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknott - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - @zombiesturniolo - |

[ghouldump]

(sending this again because i think tumblr deleted it!)

loustat x reader, and reader at the time is the only mortal in their relationship until reader privately asks louis to turn her (can be gn, i mainly read fem!reader stuff) into a vampire so she can commit herself to them eternally, louis says no in order of protecting her, they argue a bit before she agrees and a few days later lestat finds out and he does it for her and louis is not happy. even though he wanted her to stay innocent he still wanted to be her maker

and if u want u can take it from there :)

All I Ask Of You | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ when lestat takes matters into his own hands, leaving louis to sit in his regret of not complying with your wishes.

i will be booked and busy tomorrow, so the bulk of post will be up on saturday, i hope you can accept this for now, my lovelies 🤲🩷

“Please, Louis���

“I told you, my answer is no,” he raised his voice, turning away from you. How could you ask him for such a thing? He and Lestat promised to fulfill your every desire, but not this, not when you had so much to live for.

“Fine,” you had been trying for days now to get him to comply, but he wouldn't budge.

“Don’t be like that, it is for the-

“For the best, I know, I heard you the first time, listen, I can’t stay tonight, could you tell Les for me?” you asked, already headed towards the door before he could speak. You refused to cry in front of him, swinging open the door of the townhouse, just as Lestat was entering the gate.

“Ma ch-

“I’m in a rush, Louis will explain,” you pulled away from his reach, leaving him to stare bewildered at your figure becoming more distant. He wanted to question what happened while he was away, but as he began to open his mouth, something about the gloom in Louis’s eyes kept him from speaking.

“She has errands,” he mumbled, as Lestat nodded.

Silently, he followed behind Louis locking up the house as they prepared for sunrise. He wasn’t sure what he’d missed, but he was determined to find out, soon enough.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re alright darling?” Your mother asked as she leaned against the counter watching as you helped put away the leftovers from dinner.

“Yes, why?”

“You never come home, and now you’re here. Not only that, we’re going on day 3, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I can’t miss home?” you frowned.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just that it seemed like you were never leaving New Orleans, it’s been months and you’re only an hour away,” she explained. There wasn't a proper way to tell her, or your father, that you had fallen in love with two vampires, one being a few decades older, while the other — a few centuries.

“I’m sorry, I’ll visit more often,” you told her, watching as she smiled, going to pull you into a hug.

“Good, your father and I get so lonely”

“You should move to New Orleans, get out of Covington, and live a little,” you laughed.

“Absolutely not, this is home, I’ll take it from here, you go ahead and get ready for bed,” she waved you off.

“Goodnight,” you said, as she kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight sweet pea,” she called as you walked down the hall, going to your old bedroom.

Entering the room, you inhaled the vanilla aroma, as your mind drifted to your lovers. Only three days and you already felt sick to your stomach. You wondered if they missed you as much as you missed them. You told your roommate to simply tell them you were out of town if they showed up at your apartment, but you weren't sure how much longer you could continue with this.

Going to the connected bathroom, you filled the bathtub with warm water. Staring into the water, your mind drowned with regret. You had been so inconsiderate to Louis, expecting him to take on such a big responsibility. 

“Louis,” you moaned breathlessly, as he kissed along your collarbone.

“I want you to turn me,” you said, the oxygen seemingly getting caught in your throat, as he stopped, before pulling away from you.

“Where is this coming from?” he asked, his voice comforting, as he sat up, trying to concentrate on your thoughts.

“I love you both and I want to give myself to you and Lestat, forever, from this point on,” you vowed to him.

“Y/n, you don't know what you're saying, you are amazing, everything is perfect the way it is-

“Until I begin to age, and become decrepit, please Louis, become my maker, as Lestat is yours”

“You don't realize how precious life is until it is no longer in your reach. I can't do this to you, I can't take away your life when you have so much purpose,” he told you, wiping your tears as you began to cry.

Turning off the faucet, you huffed, roughly wiping the tears from your eyes. The fact that you were crying over him telling you no made you feel adolescent compared to the two. Tossing your clothing into the hamper, your muscles tensed before relaxing, as you submerged into the warm water. 

Laying back, you closed your eyes, relishing in the therapeutic sensation. Humming in relief, you focused on clearing your mind. You would only stay here a few more days before you headed home. You had built a life in New Orleans and you wouldn't leave it behind, and you certainly had no intentions of closing this chapter of your life with Louis or Lestat, over this situation.

Feeling a cool breeze across the water, you crossed your legs, shifting to feel the warmth, with your eyes still shut. Only a few minutes passed before the chilling fingertips brushed against your skin, causing you to open your eyes, sitting up. Looking around, you didn't see a person as you sighed, laying back again, closing your eyes.

“How we’ve missed you,” Lestat spoke, making you jump, but quickly relaxed as he reassuringly massaged your shoulders.

Standing behind you, he crouched down, kissing along your neck, licking away the water droplets, while you held back your moan.

“Louis isn't here,” he answered your thoughts before you could ask.

“He says you're upset with him, but won't say why,” he said, his large hands rubbing down your abdomen into the warm water.

“No, he should be upset with me,” you sat up, abruptly, facing him.

“Do tell why?” he smirked. 

“I asked him to turn me…into a vampire,” you said, your face burning in shame.

“And he said no-

“He is only trying to protect me, I didn't understand but I do now,” you said, unable to meet his eyes.

“But that isn't what you want, chèrie, is it?” he asked, as the waterworks began to pour. Shaking your head, as you finally met his eyes.

“I want an eternity with the two of you, the thought of me getting old and you both becoming a distant memory, if I even remember, it scares me, could I even live a normal life ever again, after sharing my heart with the two of you,” you said, as he stood up straight, reaching for the soft towel. Using his free hand, he helped you stand, wrapping the towel around your frame, before leading you out of the bathroom.

“You wanted Louis to change you, to allow him to experience what I have given him, but this is just as sentimental. Giving the gift to two extraordinary souls who I love greatly, would you like that, chèrie?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Yes, please,” you admitted embarrassingly.

“Do you vow to only love Louis and I, for an eternity? Forever is a very long time, go ahead, answer in the presence of God,” he motioned to the crucifix hanging on your wall.

“I do,” you nodded earnestly.

“Then you will be my fledgling, with my blood running through your veins,” he said, swiftly pulling you into his arms, before his fangs were out, plunging into your soft skin. You could feel your body weakening as he drained your blood, before he finally pulled away. Biting into his wrist, he soon placed it against your mouth.

“Drink,” he instructed, his eyes full of endearment as you moaned at the taste of his blood. You had licked your own wound as a child and the taste of iron was nothing worth comparing to his blood, you almost couldn’t stop, until he pulled his arm away.

“Thank you Les,” you said tiredly, as he grinned, kissing your neck, before sitting your limp body on the bed. Walking away, he became to boredly pack your things. He knew his intuition was correct, you had been wanting this for a while now and he had a feeling it started nearly three months back, when you asked if you could join them, as they hunted.

Watching you closely, as you sat up, hurling onto the floor, you clutched your stomach in agony. Groaning, you began to vomit on the floor, chills all over your body. Lestat neatly placed everything in your suitcase, going to zip it. Noticing your quietness, his smirk widened, as you now stood unfazed, the towel covering the vomit, as you stood nude with poise. Your new eyes and nails catching his attention, you certainly were a beautiful vampire.

“You look like perfection,” he approached you.

“I feel like…perfection”

“Let us find your first hunt, as you know with Louis’s situation, staying here won’t be possible, with your new life,” he said, as you nodded, going to grab clothing from the luggage, while looking for a pen and paper — leaving your mom a random excuse for why you had to leave.

“Do you think Louis will be mad at us?”

“Very”

“You have to suck not bite,” Lestat said, holding down your victim, as you straddled the guys lap, your fangs deep in his neck. You had made it back to New Orleans and the first thing Lestat took you to do was find your first meal. You were a natural, as you intentionally looked through the selection of people. When finally, you chose some creep, he was a bad man and you felt you were doing a bit of justice, ridding the world of such garbage.

Suddenly the front door opened, there was a few footsteps before he spoke, “What the fuck is going on?” Louis asked confusedly. Pulling away from the man, he tried screaming, begging for help, when Lestat snapped his neck.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” He asked you, as you bashfully nodded.

“Y/n,” Louis called out. Slowly facing him, you smiled, blood dripping down your mouth.

“Hi Louis”

“You turned her, now why the hell would you do that?” He yelled at Lestat.

“She wanted this, would you have preferred she stumbled across another vampire-

“I would have preferred you left her as she was,” Louis argued.

“I wanted this Louis, he was only helping-

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n, you weren’t ready, and you took advantage of her ignorance,” he screamed as Lestat sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Louis, I wanted this for more than anything, to be alongside you both, an eternity together-

“Don’t you think I know what you want, I’ve heard your thoughts, it doesn’t change the fact that it was not smart. You just threw away everything, your family, your friends, life, you’re dead now, and there is no going back,” he said, as you hesitantly climbed from the limp body. His tone brought an uneasiness to your heart, your eyes stinging.

“All I wanted, all I thought I wanted, was to be with you and Lestat. I can’t see myself with anyone else, but I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with Lestat,” you said, the dark blood leaking from your eyes. Lestat reached for you, but you moved, walking out to the backyard.

“Are you seriously that angry, Louis, how long did you expect her to wait?” Lestat asked.

“Why did you do it? She didn’t have to be turned into this,” Louis shook his head, glancing in the direction of the backyard. Regretting how harsh he sounded, as he spoke to you.

“Louis, you can still protect her as a vampire, I know you only wanted to look out for her, but she wanted the gift, she chose to love us over her parents and friends, she was worthy,” Lestat said.

“I was too harsh to her,” Louis mumbled.

“Then you should be apologizing to her, and thanking me for making yet another beautiful fledgling,” Lestat smirked.

“She is beautiful, you did good,” Louis nodded.

“Again?”

“Again,” he laughed, sighing as Lestat approached him, pulling him into a hug, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Go now”

Louis hesitantly walked outside, stopping in his tracks, seeing you sit in the grass. Looking up at the bright moon. Clenching his jaw, he forced his legs to move, before he sat next to you, watching your side profile.

“The moon looks nice tonight,” he spoke up.

“It does, doesn’t it. She glows so beautifully, the sun has no choice but to hide from her presence,” you said, your face unmoving from the sky.

“I apologize for how I spoke to you, I want you forever, both of us do. I’m more angry with Lestat than you”

“Don’t be upset with Les, please, he knew I wanted this, and I think it was only a matter of time, before I was begging him next,” you explained.

“I think I’m more angry about the fact that he changed you, and not me,” he said, grinning as you finally looked at him.

“I thought I was protecting you, keeping you from our world, when you fit so perfectly in it — I wish I would have gone through with it,” he admitted.

“It is okay, really, as long as I’m with you both, I am happy,” you said, reaching for his hands.

“Is there anything I can do, to make up for this…”

“Love me, your love is all I ask of you,” you said, accepting his kiss.

“I feel quite excluded, where are my kisses?” Lestat spoke, as he stepped outside.

“If you come any closer, you may end up with more than a kiss, both of you, I feel like the happiest girl alive,” you said, as he moved to the grass, kissing along your neck.

“Then we are starting our eternity together on the right track”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I can’t wait to try one,” you beam at the tarts on the cooling rack. 

“Why don’t you?” Queenie asks as she wipes her hands on her apron. 

“Well, it’s only polite we let others try them, right? Thor? Loki?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if we should bother them right now,” she puts her hand behind her. “I’m sure they’ll find us when they’re ready.” 

“Uh, yeah, makes sense,” you raise your shoulders to your ears. “Sorry.” 

“Please, don’t be. I just don’t want to be in the way.” 

“Me either,” you smile. “I feel like that a lot. My sister always makes me the odd one out. Her and her friends.” 

“Oh, really. I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault. I don’t want to tell on myself but I’m really happy we met. I hope... we can be friends.” You chew your lip as you look around. 

“We already are, aren’t we?” She asks. 

Your cheeks hurt as you smile gets even bigger, “really?” 

“Sure. You think I bake for anyone but friends?” She snorts. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not much of a homemaker.” 

“No, you have to be! You always look so nice,” you insist. 

“Ha, yeah, well... that’s what they like,” she swallows. 

“They?” You wonder. 

“Ladies,” Thor’s booming voice thunders in and you whip around to face him. “I smell something sweet.” 

Queen mumbles but doesn’t respond clearly. You perk up, “tarts! They’re all done, if you want to try some.” 

“Tarts,” he echoes in excitement and claps his hand, “I was of the mind for a different sort of sugar,” he steps around you and nears Queenie. He puts his large hands on her shoulders and draws her into a kiss. You avert your gaze embarrassed. “But a dessert would be nice too.” 

You shift and wave at the tray of pastries. “If Loki wants some, there’s a lot to go around.” 

“My brother? No, he disappeared a while ago. So is his nature,” he plucks a tart from the array. “But perhaps we will set one aside for him.” 

“Okay,” you agree as Queenie turns and wipes the counter. She’s already done that but she seems to prefer the distraction. 

Thor bites into tart, nearly taking half of it. He purrs and nods. “Very delicious.” 

“She did most of the work,” Queenie says over her shoulder. 

“We both did a lot,” you counter. “Really, it’s good?” 

“Haven’t you tried one?” He asks through his mouthful. 

“Not yet.” You turn and carefully cradle one. You lift it over your cupped hand to catch the crumbs and bite into it. “Mmm.” 

“Queenie, please, you must,” Thor turns with what’s left of his and offers it to her. She turns to him and hesitates. She lets him feed her the tart and chews tightly. 

She hums and hides her mouth behind her hand, “very good.” 

“Well, it seems you’ve been quite productive,” Thor praises. “You should show sweetness around. Give her a lay of the land. Have a bit of fun. Can’t save it all for the night time, eh?” 

He winks and she bats her lashes bashfully, “sure, um, come on,” she brushes by him and grabs your wrist. “I’ll show you the garden. It’s my favourite place.” 

“Aside from the bed,” Thor chortles. 

She squeezes you tight as she drags you away. It’s cute how much he loves her but you imagine you’d be just as embarrassed. You go with her easily, chewing on what’s left of your tart. 

“You’ll have to take some with you,” she says. “I can’t possibly eat so many.” 

“Oh, thank you.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she takes you through the back door and finally stops. You can sense her dismay. 

“Are you okay?” You free yourself from her grasp and touch her shoulder. She winces. 

“Fine,” she insists and crosses her arms. She marches ahead of you. “Just need some fresh air. It was getting warm in the kitchen.” She stops and glances back at you. “I don’t know how you’re not dying in that.” 

You look down at your turtleneck and shrug, “guess I’m used to it.” You follow her and glance around. The yard is huge. There’s a pool and grotto, a canopy over a dining set, a gazebo at the far corner surrounded by lush rose bushes, flowers at the middle arranged around the immense fountain. It’s like a fairytale. 

“This is so...” 

“I know, it’s beautiful,” she agrees as if it’s a bad thing. “Do you want to see the birds?” 

“Birds?” 

She nods and beckons you after her. She takes you toward the gazebo and around to the rear corner of the yard. The stone wall is woven over with vines and you can hear the steady cheep within. Bright yellow heads poke in and out as wings rustle through the leaves. 

“Wow!” You say. 

“He gets them imported,” she explains. “Pretty but... stuck here...” 

“They can fly away.” 

“They are tracked,” she sighs. “Not that they get very far with clipped wings.” 

You frown, “oh.” 

“Well...” she sniffs, “things are a bit nicer with someone to share them with,” she stands beside you. “Aren’t they?” 

You agree with a nod and gape at the wall of birds nesting between the vines. After a while, you trail after her into the gazebo and play on the wooden chessboard inside. The air smells like pollen. You while away the time, enjoying the lull as the breeze gently flows through the arches. 

“Checkmate. I think.” You say. 

She clicks her tongue, “yes.” 

“Wow, I never played before,” you snicker. 

“Don’t be a sore winner,” she sticks her tongue out. 

“I’m not,” you retort. 

“Well, maybe I’m a sore loser,” she pouts. 

You laugh and when she does, you laugh even louder. It’s infectious as the two of you giggle in the curtained dim of the gazebo. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of the throat also clears the air. You choke on your laughter and look in tandem to the shadow in the doorway. “I was told I am to return you to your home.” 

Loki stands with a placid expression. Despite his unaffected demeanour, you notice that a strand of his hair has fallen forward away from the rest of his neatly combed locks and there’s a dark stain on his collar. 

“Oh, already?” You wonder. 

He checks the watch on his wrist, “my brother said so. It is after dinner time. I believe he has plans with his... companion.” 

Queenie rises, “maybe next time you can stay.” 

“Hm, yes, maybe next time,” Loki repeats deliberately. “Come on then. I’ve not got all night.” 

You stand and give an apologetic smile, “bye, Queenie,” you murmur as she passes Loki. You follow her and stop just before him. “Did you have a tart?” 

“A tart?” His brows arch. 

“In the kitchen. We baked tarts.” 

“Mm, perhaps another time,” he drawls. “Let us not linger.” 

“Yes, sir,” you agree and wait for him to move. He doesn’t. You stare at each other. Finally, he shifts and extends his arm to gesture you out ahead of him. “Thanks,” you bounce past him and down the steps. “Oh look, you can see the moon already.” You point ahead as you cross the lawn ahead of him. 

“Mm,” he follows you at a pace. “Suppose that is rather amusing.” 

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Weekend

In my last WIP post, I mentioned I was 18k words into my Secret Relationship fic for the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge, and it had turned into something much longer than I intended. Sooo, yeah, um… it’s now reached ~40k words!

I’d planned to start posting it next weekend, but my firm got audited so I lost a couple of weeks due to working overtime, and I still have three chapters left to write. So I think it’s gonna be a Christmas release now. Sorry for the wait.

But over the last few weeks, I’ve been tagged in WIP posts by @burntheedges, @papurgaatika, @almostfoxglove, @djarinmuse, and @the-mandawhor1an (thank you, my lovelies! 💚), and with my excuses comes another snippet to tide you over until I can release it…

Please check out my last two WIP posts for additional snippets from earlier in the fic, here and here.

I’m switching it up and giving you one from Din’s POV today; the context is that she’s trying to convince him to come to a show the following night (despite Uncle Karga’s vehement disapproval of them being anywhere near each other)…

Her focus drops to her efforts on his dick as she skilfully adjusts her angle without missing a stroke, but he nudges her chin with his thumb. “Look at me, senaar’ika,” he commands through heavy breaths. When he has her attention again, he breathes, “Tion’jor neliser ni nevore gar?” Her eyes shimmer like starlight whenever he speaks Mando’a to her – like she loves to hear it, even though she doesn’t understand it. It’s why he persists in speaking to her in an almost dead language. Now, though, she answers him as if she knows exactly what he just asked. “Please come, Mando.” She could be talking about right now or tomorrow night, but they’re both foregone conclusions. “Yes, fuck,” he gasps, his mouth spilling his agreement about ten seconds before his cock is due to spill his seed. The heat gathering low in his belly flares lower to engulf his balls, and the inferno of his orgasm brightens as it builds. She stokes him for all he’s worth, soft hand on silken skin, eyes still sparkling like the fuse that sizzles inside him… …and it magnifies and spreads, so fiercely thrilling that the alley falls away, and it’s just him and his senaar’ika and the silent symphony of pleasure she’s conducting… …but in an instant, a door swishes, a footstep sounds, and Din is tearing her hand from his pants, drawing his blaster and moving his body to shield hers. The adrenaline from his impending climax converts into combat readiness, but the low growl that erupts through his vocoder is equal parts anger and anguish. “You two out here?” Yerma’s rich and golden tones dissolve his tension, leaving him with the sullen agony of an orgasm snatched away. The ache in his balls, the sting in his pride, and the regret in his heart all battle for top ranking in his pantheon of displeasure. “What’s up?” his alleyway companion asks with enviable poise, stepping past him and around the stack of crates to stop Yerma from coming any closer. He takes the cue to hastily rearrange his underwear and zip up his pants, his erection deflating rapidly alongside his hope. This was a bad idea. As if to illustrate his thought, the Twi’lek states six concerning words. “Your uncle’s in the cafe, sweetie.”

Poor Din! 😬

Tion’jor neliser ni nevore gar? – Why can’t I say no to you?

If you don’t already know what his name for her (senaar’ika) means, I won’t spoil it because it’s vaguely plot-relevant.

If you’re interested in being tagged when I release this, please raise your hand or let me know in whatever way you prefer to communicate. You can also join my tag list if you like.

In the interests of making new friends and being sociable, I thought I should make an effort to tag more widely in WIP posts. I know that since I only write for Din and not all of you are particularly Din girlies (gn), some of you may not be interested in my fics, but I read other Pedro boy fics sometimes (Joel, mostly), and if I’ve tagged you below, it means I think you’re a fantastic writer 💚

No pressure to do a WIP post, or if you’d like to but don’t have anything to share or you’ve already posted this week, feel free to hold onto this tag for whenever’s convenient (that’s what I do 😆) or share something non-WIP related.

@ace-turned-confused @ak-vintage @alltheirdamn @alltheotps @almostempty

@alwaysmicado @ameerawrites @arcanefox207 @aurorawritestoescape @avastrasposts

@baronessvonglitter @beardedjoel @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bluestar22x

@cas-readsandwrites @chiriwritesstuff @chronically-ghosted @clawdee @covetyou

@din-cognito @draculasfavoritewife @firstofficerwiggles @guiltyasdave @hapan-in-exile

@itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvest @jeewrites @jennaispunk @joelstummy

@justagalwhowrites @luxurychristmaspudding @mermaidgirl30 @milla-frenchy @moeswriting

@mothandpidgeon @mrsmando @murder-wife @novemberrain-writes @orcasoul

@ozarkthedog @pedgito @pedrospatch @perotovar @quinnnfabrgay-writes

@sawymredfox @schnarfer @soft-persephone @sweetpascal @thischarmingmandalorian

I’m also tagging my regular tag list since this is a snippet of an upcoming fic and a posting schedule update. Thank you all for your support 💚

@chiyo13 @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @lilac-boo @lucienofthelakes

@pigeonmama @punkygreeny @syd-djarin @wrathkitty

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 10✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language, ANGST

Word Count: 8833

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

Dean’s breath caught, and for a moment, he looked like he had been struck by your question. His grip on your hands tightened, his eyes darkening with a mixture of emotions that he had been trying so hard to keep buried. He hesitated, his throat working as he tried to find the right words, the right way to respond without causing you more pain.

But the truth was, there was no easy answer. No way to say what he needed to say without it hurting both of you.

“I…”, Dean started, his voice thick with emotion. He looked away for a moment, his jaw clenched as he tried to control the storm of feelings raging inside him. When he looked back at you, his eyes were full of a pain that made your heart ache.

“Yeah, I do”, he admitted finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I like you… more than I should. More than I have any right to”.

The admission seemed to cost him, and he looked down, his gaze dropping to your joined hands as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “But it doesn’t change anything, (Y/N). It can’t. I can’t… we can’t let this happen. It’s wrong”.

His words were filled with so much regret, so much self-reproach, that it made your heart break for him. But even though his answer was what you had feared, it was also what you had needed to hear. The fact that he felt the same way you did, that he was struggling just as much, brought a bittersweet sense of relief.

“Dean…”, you whispered, trying to find the right words, but they eluded you. Instead, you squeezed his hands, trying to convey everything you were feeling—your love, your hurt, your understanding—through that simple gesture.

Dean finally looked up, meeting your gaze, and the depth of emotion in his eyes made your breath catch. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking, the weight of his guilt and his feelings tearing him apart.

“I’m so sorry”, he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you”.

You shook your head, tears spilling over as you leaned in closer, your voice trembling as you replied, “You haven’t hurt me, Dean. Not like you think. I just… I just wish things were different”.

Dean’s expression softened, but the sadness in his eyes didn’t fade. “So do I”, he murmured, his voice barely audible. “But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make this right”.

Your voice trembled as you fought to keep your emotions in check, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I can learn, Dean. I can be what you need, the woman you need. I—". You were rambling, the desperation in your voice growing as you tried to find a way to convince him, to make him see that this could work, that you could be what he needed. But before you could finish, Dean gently placed a finger over your lips, silencing you with a soft, pained expression.

"Stop, (Y/N)", he whispered, his voice filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. He removed his finger, replacing it with his hand, cradling your cheek tenderly as he looked into your eyes. "This isn’t about you not being enough. You are enough, more than enough. But this… it’s not something you can just learn or change for. It’s not something we can fix by pretending it’s different than it is".

His thumb gently brushed away a few tears, his touch achingly tender. "You deserve someone who can love you without all the complications, without all the baggage. Someone who can be there for you in every way without feeling like they’re crossing a line they shouldn’t. And as much as I… as much as I care about you, I can’t be that person".

His words were like a knife to your heart, but there was no anger in them, only regret and a deep, abiding sadness. He was trying to protect you, even if it meant breaking both of your hearts in the process.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you shook your head, not wanting to accept what he was saying. "But I don’t want someone else", you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. "I want you, Dean. I’ve always wanted you".

Dean closed his eyes, his breath hitching as he absorbed the weight of your words. He wanted to pull you into his arms and never let go, to tell you that he wanted you just as badly. But he knew he couldn’t, knew that if he did, it would only make things harder for both of you in the long run.

When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with a mixture of love and resignation. "I know", he murmured, his voice hoarse. "And that’s what makes this so damn hard. But I can’t be what you need, and I can’t let you be with someone who isn’t right for you. You deserve better, (Y/N). You deserve more than what I can give you".

His words hung in the air, heavy and final. Dean’s hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he slowly let it drop, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling cold and empty.

"I’m sorry", he whispered, the pain in his voice cutting through you like a knife. "I’m so sorry".

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the war he was fighting within himself. Every fiber of his being wanted to pull you close, to hold onto you and never let go. But he was forcing himself to walk away, to do what he believed was the right thing, even though it was tearing him apart inside.

As the reality of Dean’s words settled in, the weight of everything that had transpired between you became unbearable. The dam of emotions you had been holding back broke, and before you knew it, you were sobbing in front of him, your shoulders shaking with the force of your tears. It felt like your heart was shattering into a million pieces, the rawness of your pain spilling out uncontrollably.

Dean watched you, his own heart breaking at the sight. Every tear that fell from your eyes felt like a knife twisting in his chest. He wanted so desperately to reach out, to pull you into his arms and tell you that everything would be okay, that he would make it better somehow. But he knew that would be a lie, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you more by giving you false hope.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his entire body tense with the effort of holding himself back. It took everything in him to stay where he was, to keep himself from crossing that line again. He wanted you— he wanted you so badly it physically hurt. But he knew that wanting wasn’t enough. He had to be the grown-up here, the one to make the hard decision, even if it was killing him inside.

Dean took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay strong, to resist the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you like this”.

Your sobs only grew louder, the pain in your chest intensifying with every breath.

Dean stood there for a moment, his heart twisting painfully as he watched you break down in front of him. The urge to stay, to comfort you, was overwhelming, but he knew that staying any longer would only make things worse. He took a slow, steadying breath, trying to push back the emotions threatening to spill over. With a heavy heart, he finally rose to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate, as if every step away from you was an immense effort.

He looked down at you, his chest tightening at the sight of your tear-streaked face and trembling form. The sound of your sobs, the way you were crumpled on the bed, broke something inside him. He wanted so desperately to erase the pain he had caused, but he knew that the only way to do that was to step back, to give you the space you needed to heal.

You looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “How are we supposed to go back to how things were before?”.

Dean’s heart clenched at your words. He didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know how to go back, didn’t even know if it was possible. The connection between you had been irrevocably changed, and there was no denying it. But he also knew that you couldn’t move forward in the way you both might have wanted. It was a cruel paradox, one that left him feeling helpless and lost.

“I don’t know”, Dean admitted, his voice thick with sorrow. “I wish I did, but I don’t. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so damn sorry”.

He wanted to say more, to offer some kind of reassurance, but the words failed him. All he could do was stand there, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to keep himself from falling apart. Seeing you like this was tearing him up inside, but he knew that he couldn’t be the one to fix it, not this time.

Finally, he forced himself to move, to turn away from the heart-wrenching sight of you sitting there, broken and crying. Each step he took felt like a betrayal, like he was abandoning you in your time of need, but he knew that staying would only make things harder for both of you.

As he reached the door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He looked back at you one last time, his eyes filled with a deep, aching regret. “I’ll always be here if you need me”, he said softly, his voice almost breaking. “But I think we both need some space right now”.

Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and stepped out, closing it quietly behind him. The sound of the door clicking shut was like a final nail in the coffin of whatever could have been, leaving you alone with your grief.

In the silence that followed, the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on you, and you felt more lost than ever.

Dean, on the other side of the door, leaned back against the wall, his hands covering his face as he tried to compose himself. The pain of leaving you like that, of knowing that he had shattered something so precious, was almost unbearable. But he knew that he had to be the strong one, had to be the one to step back and let you heal, no matter how much it hurt him.

Dean had left the same day, his departure abrupt and without much explanation. He told the others, even Sam, that he needed to help Cas and Jack with a situation back at the bunker, and while it wasn’t entirely a lie, it was also clear that he needed to put some distance between himself and what had happened in Montana. The weight of what he had done, the guilt and confusion, was too much for him to bear while staying close to you.

You, on the other hand, stayed behind in Montana for a few more days, trying to process everything that had happened. The pain of Dean leaving, of how things had ended between you, was still raw, but you were determined not to let it consume you. You had made a decision: when you saw Dean again, you would act as though nothing had happened. It was the only way you could think to protect yourself, to keep from feeling that kind of vulnerability again.

When you and Sam finally drove back to the bunker, the miles seemed to stretch on endlessly. The thought of seeing Dean again after over a week filled you with a mix of dread and nervous anticipation. You hadn’t spoken to him since he left, and the silence between you had only made the ache in your chest grow stronger. But you were resolved to stick to your plan—pretend that nothing had changed, that the night in Montana hadn’t happened. It was the only way you knew to keep yourself from falling apart.

As you pulled into the bunker’s garage, the familiar sight of the Impala parked inside sent a jolt through you. Dean was here. Your heart raced, your palms sweaty as you tried to calm yourself. Sam seemed oblivious to your inner turmoil, chatting casually about the drive and what you might find waiting for you inside. You forced yourself to respond, to act like everything was normal, even though your nerves were shot.

Stepping inside the bunker, you were greeted by the familiar sounds and smells of home. The faint scent of coffee from the kitchen, the low hum of the bunker’s systems—everything was as it should be, except for the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. You hadn’t seen Dean yet, and the anticipation was killing you.

“Hey, we’re back!”, Sam called out as he dropped his bag by the door, his voice echoing slightly in the large space.

A few moments later, you heard footsteps approaching, and then Dean appeared from around the corner. He looked much the same as when you last saw him, but there was a tightness in his expression, a guardedness that hadn’t been there before. His eyes flicked to you briefly, but then quickly shifted to Sam.

“Hey”, Dean greeted, his voice steady, but lacking the usual warmth. “How was the drive?”.

Sam shrugged, oblivious to the tension between you and Dean. “Long, but it’s good to be back. How are things here?”.

Dean gave a small nod. “Fine. Cas and Jack are in the library, still working on that creature situation”. His eyes darted to you for a split second before looking away again. “I’ll catch up with you later. Got some things to take care of”.

Without waiting for a response, Dean turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with Sam. The brief encounter had left you rattled, but you were determined to stick to your plan. You took a deep breath, pushing down the flood of emotions that threatened to surface.

Sam looked at you curiously, sensing something off. “You okay?”.

You forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, just tired. I think I’ll go unpack and get settled”.

Sam nodded, still watching you with a hint of concern, but he didn’t press the issue. You were grateful for that. As you headed to your room, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, of wanting things to be different, but you steeled yourself. You had made a decision, and you were going to stick to it, no matter how much it hurt.

The days that followed were tense, filled with unspoken words and careful avoidance. You and Dean managed to stay out of each other’s way for the most part, both of you clearly trying to navigate the new, fragile dynamic that had formed. The others didn’t seem to notice, or if they did, they didn’t mention it, and you were grateful for the small mercy.

But each day that passed without resolving the tension between you only made the weight heavier, the pain more acute. You wanted so badly to talk to him, to clear the air, but the fear of being hurt again kept you silent. So you kept up the act, pretending that nothing had changed, even though every moment spent near him was a reminder of just how much it had.

It had been two long, agonizing months since that night in Montana, and in all that time, you and Dean hadn’t exchanged a single word. The tension between you had only grown more palpable, like a heavy weight pressing down on the bunker. Even Sam, who usually respected your space, had started to notice that something was off. His concerned glances and probing questions only made it harder to maintain the facade that everything was fine.

But you had managed, somehow, to keep your feelings at bay. You buried yourself in research, and anything that could keep your mind occupied and away from thoughts of Dean. The walls you had built around yourself were solid, but they didn’t stop the occasional pang of longing or the hollow ache that settled in your chest whenever you caught a glimpse of Dean from across the room.

You walked down the hallway with a sense of determination, each step feeling heavier as you approached the library. The summer dress you chose was light, airy, and made you feel like a version of yourself you hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a deliberate choice, a small act of defiance against the overwhelming tension that had suffocated you for weeks. In your hand, you carried a large bag, filled with everything you might need for an afternoon at the lake—towels, sunscreen, and a book you probably wouldn’t read. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind, and find some peace.

As you entered the library, you spotted Sam and Dean at the table, deep in research. Sam looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. Dean, however, didn’t glance your way, his focus seemingly glued to the stack of papers in front of him. The sight of him sitting there, so close yet so unreachable, made your chest tighten, but you pushed the feeling down, determined not to let it show.

Without a word, you walked over to the table and sat down beside Sam, placing your bag on the floor beside you. The silence in the room was thick, almost suffocating.

Sam finally broke the silence, his voice gentle but probing. “Where are you headed?”, he asked, his tone casual but with an underlying concern that you could hear clearly.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m going to the lake”, you said, forcing a small smile. “I figured I’d go swimming, clear my head a bit”.

Sam’s brow furrowed slightly, his concern deepening. “By yourself?”.

You hesitated for just a second before answering, hoping it sounded casual enough. “No, I’m just waiting on Jack. He said he’d meet me here”.

Dean’s eyes flickered up for just a second when you mentioned Jack, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable as he quickly returned his focus to the papers in front of him. The brief moment of eye contact sent a jolt through you, but you pushed it aside, determined to stick to your plan.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You could feel Sam’s gaze still on you, his concern palpable, but before you could say anything else, there was a sudden rush of air behind you, followed by a soft thud.

You jumped, startled, and turned around quickly to find Jack standing there, his expression a mix of excitement and mild confusion. He had clearly teleported in, something he was still getting used to, and it showed in the slightly disoriented look on his face.

“Hey!”, Jack said brightly, his voice cutting through the tension like a ray of sunshine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you”.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and gave him a small smile. “No worries, Jack. Just wasn’t expecting that”.

Jack grinned, seemingly oblivious to the tension between you, Sam, and Dean. “I’m ready whenever you are”, he said, glancing at the bag by your side. “This should be fun”.

Sam gave Jack a warm smile, though his concern for you hadn’t entirely faded. “Take care of her, Jack”, he said, his tone half-joking but with an edge of seriousness.

Jack nodded earnestly. “I will”.

You stood up, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. You hoped that some time at the lake would help clear your head, even if just for a little while.

You barely had time to finish your sentence—“Are we taking a car, or—”—before Jack grabbed your wrist with a smile. In the blink of an eye, the library of the bunker vanished, replaced by the serene, quiet bay of the lake. The sudden shift left you momentarily disoriented, the cool breeze and the scent of water filling your senses.

“Wow, that was fast”, you muttered, trying to steady yourself as you took in your new surroundings. The lake was calm, the water reflecting the sky’s soft hues, and the quiet was a welcome change from the tension that had gripped you for so long. It was exactly what you needed—a place to breathe, to think, without the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Jack looked pleased with himself, clearly happy to have gotten you here so quickly. “I thought you might want to skip the drive”, he said, grinning. “Plus, I think this spot is perfect. It’s quiet, away from everything”.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s perfect. Thanks, Jack”.

Meanwhile, back in the bunker, Dean and Sam exchanged a glance as the last remnants of the teleportation shimmered away. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Dean’s expression—a mixture of concern and exasperation.

“Well”, Dean mumbled “now we’ve got two puppies running free out there”.

Sam’s chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Yeah, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Jack’s good company, and she could use a break”.

Dean grunted in response, but there was a tension in his posture that he couldn’t quite shake. He tried to focus on the papers in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to you. The thought of you out there, trying to find some peace, only reminded him of how much he had failed to provide that for you. He didn’t want to admit it, but the idea of you being away from the bunker, possibly meeting new people, made his chest tighten with something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

Sam noticed the way Dean’s shoulders tensed, the way he seemed more distracted than usual. “You know”, Sam said, his tone carefully neutral, “it’s okay to be worried. But Jack’s not going to let anything happen to her”.

Dean looked up at Sam, his green eyes hard but reflective. “I know”, he muttered, his voice gruff.

Sam could sense the shift in Dean’s demeanor, the way his brother’s usual calm and focused exterior had been replaced with something more restless, something troubled. It wasn’t like Dean to be so distracted, especially not when it came to hunting or research. But ever since the trip to Montana, Sam had noticed a growing tension between you and Dean, a tension that had only seemed to deepen as the weeks went by.

Sam didn’t want to push too hard—he knew Dean well enough to understand that prying would only make him shut down further—but he also couldn’t just ignore the elephant in the room. He waited for the right moment, letting the silence stretch between them as Dean pretended to focus on the papers in front of him. But Sam knew better; Dean hadn’t turned a page in nearly ten minutes.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Sam looked over at his brother, his voice gentle but probing. “Dean… what happened between you two?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened at the question, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to stare down at the papers. For a moment, Sam thought he might not answer, that he’d brush it off like he usually did when things got too personal. But then Dean let out a long, slow breath, and Sam could see the tension in his shoulders ease, just a little.

Dean didn’t look up, his voice low and rough when he finally spoke. “I messed up, Sammy”. he admitted, the weight of those words heavy with regret.

Sam’s brow furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Did something happen between you two?”.

Dean finally looked up, meeting Sam’s gaze for the first time. The guilt and frustration in his eyes were clear, and it made Sam’s heart ache for him. Dean had always been hard on himself, always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but this was different. This was personal, something that had cut him deeper than any hunt ever could.

“Yeah, something happened”, Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve been trying to fix it ever since, but… I don’t know if I can”.

Sam could sense the weight of what Dean was about to say, the way his brother’s voice trembled slightly with the admission. It was rare to see Dean this vulnerable, this unsure of himself, and it made Sam feel a deep sense of concern. He knew that whatever had happened between you two had shaken Dean to his core, and the fact that Dean was willing to talk about it, even a little, meant that it was eating him up inside.

Sam hesitated, not wanting to push too hard but also needing to understand the full extent of what had happened. He needed to know how bad things were, if there was any way to help Dean navigate through this mess. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but insistent as he pressed further.

“Dean”, Sam began cautiously, his heart pounding a little faster. “Did you… you know, did you guys…?”. He didn’t finish the sentence, letting the question hang in the air. Sam didn’t need to say the words; the meaning was clear enough.

Dean sighed heavily, the sound filled with exhaustion and frustration. He rubbed his temple, as if trying to ward off a headache or push away the memories that were clearly haunting him. The weight of the situation was evident in every line of his face, and the admission he was about to make seemed to take an enormous amount of effort.

“No, I didn’t sleep with her”, he mumbled, his voice strained and filled with regret. There was a noticeable relief in his tone, but it was overshadowed by the lingering weight of everything else that had transpired.

Sam’s brows furrowed in concern, sensing that there was more to the story. “But?”, he prompted gently, leaning in slightly as he tried to understand what was eating away at his brother.

Dean hesitated, his eyes darting away from Sam’s gaze. He seemed to be struggling with how to put his thoughts into words, how to explain the situation without diving too deep into the pain and confusion he was feeling.

“But… I let things get out of control”, Dean finally admitted, his voice thick with guilt.

Dean’s breath hitched as he tried to find the right words, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of what he was about to confess. “We kissed, Sam”, he admitted, his tone heavy with regret. “Not just once, but twice. And… the second time… it was different”.

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt, sensing that Dean needed to get this off his chest. He could see the turmoil in his brother’s eyes, the way Dean was struggling to articulate what had happened, and it made his own heart ache for him.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, the frustration and guilt evident in every line of his face. “The second time, it wasn’t just a kiss. I mean, it started that way, but then… then it went further. She was… I didn’t even touched her much.. but… she… came. Right there in my arms, just from… just from the way we were together”.

Dean’s voice cracked as he spoke, the memory of that night clearly haunting him. The intensity of the moment, the way your body had responded to his, had shaken him to his core. It was something he hadn’t expected, something that had left him reeling in its aftermath.

Sam’s expression softened, a mix of surprise and concern washing over him as he processed what Dean was saying. He knew how much Dean cared about you, how deeply those feelings ran, but hearing the raw honesty in his brother’s voice made it clear just how complicated things had become.

“Dean…”, Sam began, his voice gentle, not quite sure how to respond. He could see the guilt eating away at Dean, the way he was blaming himself for something that was clearly more complicated than he was letting on. “It sounds like… it wasn’t just you. She felt something too, right? This wasn’t just you losing control”.

Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with a deep sense of self-reproach. “I should’ve stopped it, Sam. I should’ve pulled away, kept things from getting that far. But I didn’t, and now everything’s fucked up. She’s… she’s like family to us. She’s like my little sister, and she trusts me. And I… I betrayed that trust”.

Sam sighed deeply, feeling the weight of Dean’s words settle between them like a heavy cloud. He could see just how much this was tearing his brother apart, the guilt and self-reproach so evident in Dean’s expression. Sam knew that Dean had always put the needs of others before his own, often to his detriment. But this time, it was different. This time, the lines between right and wrong, between protector and partner, had blurred in a way that neither of them had anticipated.

“Dean, listen”, Sam started, his tone firm yet compassionate. “You didn’t betray her trust. If anything, you both were caught in a moment where emotions were running high. She’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult, and she has her own feelings about this, too. You can’t shoulder all the blame”.

Dean shook his head, the guilt still gnawing at him. “I get what you’re saying, Sam, but it’s not that simple. She’s family. I’ve watched her grow up, and I’ve always tried to protect her. I crossed a line, and now I don’t know how to make things right”.

Sam leaned back in his chair, considering his next words carefully. He knew that Dean was struggling with more than just guilt—there was a deep-rooted fear of losing the bond that you all shared, a fear that the damage might be irreparable.

“You didn’t do this alone, Dean”, Sam said gently. “She was there with you, and she made her choices, too. The fact that… she responded the way she did means something. It means that this is more complicated than just a mistake. It means that there are feelings involved, real ones, and you can’t just pretend they don’t exist”.

Dean rubbed his temples, the frustration evident on his face. “But what am I supposed to do, Sam? If I go down this road, I risk ruining everything. And if I don’t… I don’t know if I can live with that either”.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Dean. But I think you need to talk to her, really talk to her. You need to figure out where you both stand and what you want. This isn’t something you can just ignore and hope it goes away”.

Dean shook his head, his frustration and self-loathing bubbling to the surface as he tried to make sense of the turmoil inside him. “Sam, I already talked to her”, he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. “I told her I’m too old for her, that she deserves someone better. But… damn it, Sammy, she’s 18! I feel like a fucking pedo! I don’t even know why the hell I feel something like this for her”.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his guilt and confusion. Dean ran a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as if he could squeeze the thoughts out of his mind. He was a man used to fighting monsters, to facing down the worst the world had to offer, but this—this war within himself—was something he didn’t know how to fight.

Sam could see the torment in Dean’s eyes, the way his brother was battling against feelings that he didn’t fully understand. It pained Sam to see Dean like this, torn apart by emotions that were so much more complex than any hunt they’d ever been on. He knew Dean’s instinct was to protect, to shield others from harm, and now Dean was stuck in a situation where he saw himself as the danger.

“Dean”, Sam said softly, trying to ground his brother, “You’re not a monster. You’re not a predator. You’re a human being, and you’re allowed to have feelings, even if they’re complicated. The fact that you’re struggling with this so much shows that you’re not the person you’re afraid of becoming”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with anger—mostly at himself. “It’s not right, Sam. It doesn’t matter how much I try to justify it, it’s just not right. I’m supposed to be there for her like a brother, and I crossed that line”.

Sam sighed, leaning back slightly in his chair as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this. He knew how deeply Dean cared, how he always took on more than his share of guilt and responsibility. But Sam also knew that sometimes, Dean’s sense of duty could blind him to the reality of a situation.

“I get it, Dean”, Sam said, his voice steady but understanding. “It’s messy, and I know it feels wrong to you. But honestly? I don’t see such a huge problem here”.

Dean looked up at him, a mix of surprise and frustration in his eyes. “How can you say that, Sam? I’m supposed to protect her, not… not get involved with her”.

“I know”, Sam replied quickly, not wanting to dismiss Dean’s concerns. “But think about it—she’s not a kid anymore. She’s 18, and she’s been through a lot. She’s capable of making her own decisions, and she obviously cares about you too”.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam pressed on.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s simple or easy. It’s not. But the fact that you’re so torn up about this shows that you care about her in the right way. You’re not trying to take advantage of her, and she’s not some helpless kid who doesn’t know what she wants”.

Dean ran a hand over his face, his frustration evident as he tried to articulate the fears that had been gnawing at him. “What if she’s just confused, Sam?”, he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of worry and resignation. “What if she doesn’t really know what she wants? Maybe she’s just… mixing up her feelings. I mean, how do we know if she likes me for being, well, a man, or if it’s just because I’ve been there for her when no one else was?”.

Sam could see the deep concern in Dean’s eyes, the way he was grappling with the idea that you might not truly know your own feelings. It was clear that Dean was scared—scared of hurting you, scared of taking advantage of what might be misplaced affection, scared of making a mistake that could affect you both for the rest of your lives.

“I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. She’s been through a lot, yeah, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know her own mind. You’re not just some guy who showed up in her life—you’ve been there for her, through everything. And I think she’s old enough, mature enough, to know the difference between gratitude and real feelings”.

Dean looked at Sam, uncertainty still clouding his expression. “But how can I be sure, Sam? What if she’s just… what if she’s confused and later realizes she doesn’t feel that way? Then what? I’ve crossed a line that I can’t uncross”.

Sam sighed, understanding the depth of Dean’s dilemma. He knew that Dean wasn’t just afraid of making a mistake—he was terrified of losing the bond you both shared, of damaging something that had been so important to both of you for so long.

“Dean, you’re right to be cautious”, Sam acknowledged. “But you also have to trust her. Trust that she knows what she wants, and trust yourself enough to believe that you’re not manipulating her feelings. You’ve always treated her with respect, and that hasn’t changed. Just… talk to her. See where her head’s at. Don’t assume the worst”.

Dean nodded slowly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up, Sam. I don’t want to hurt her more than I already did”.

“And that’s why you won’t”, Sam said firmly. “Because you care enough to be worried about it. You’re not rushing into anything, and you’re trying to do the right thing. Just take it one step at a time, and be honest with her—and yourself—about how you’re feeling”.

Sam held his brother’s gaze, his expression softening with a mix of empathy and understanding. “Dean”, he continued quietly, “don’t you think I knew how you felt about her? I’m your brother. I see things. And honestly, I just hoped you would at least wait until she turned 18. But deep down, I knew that day would come. I saw the way you looked at her, the way you watched out for her. She’s always been more mature than other girls her age”.

Dean blinked, his mind reeling. He had always prided himself on being the one who kept things together, who looked out for everyone else without revealing too much of what was going on inside his own head. But Sam had seen right through him, had known what he was feeling even before Dean had fully admitted it to himself.

He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit that betrayed just how out of his depth he felt. “You knew?”, he asked, his voice thick with disbelief. “Why didn’t you say anything?”.

Sam offered a small, rueful smile. “What could I have said? ‘Hey Dean, I know you’re falling for her, but maybe pump the brakes until she’s older’? It’s not like I could’ve stopped you from feeling what you felt. And honestly, I didn’t want to make things harder for you. I figured… I don’t know, maybe it would just work itself out”.

Dean swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight. The fact that Sam had seen it all along made him feel both exposed and oddly relieved.

Dean felt his stomach twist at Sam’s words. The idea that his brother had seen through him, had watched as his feelings for you evolved over the last few months, made him feel exposed in a way that was deeply uncomfortable. He had always tried to keep those emotions under wraps, burying them deep where they couldn’t cause any harm. But hearing Sam describe it so plainly made it all too real.

Sam sighed, his expression serious yet compassionate as he continued. “Dean, I saw the way your feelings changed over the years. It wasn’t just something that happened overnight. She grew older, and your gazes… they grew different. I noticed the shift, especially on her 17th birthday”.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. That day had been burned into his memory—how you had walked into the room, looking more like a woman than the little girl he’d known for so long. It was a moment he’d tried to dismiss, to convince himself that it didn’t mean anything, but deep down, he knew it was a turning point. And apparently, Sam had seen it too.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first”, Sam admitted, his voice softening. “I thought maybe it was just a phase or something that would pass. But it didn’t. You started looking at her differently, and it wasn’t just the way you looked at her, Dean. It was the way you acted around her, the way you tried to distance yourself even though it was clear you didn’t want to”.

Dean flinched slightly at Sam’s words, his guilt deepening as he listened to his brother’s observations. The truth, spoken aloud, was like a punch to the gut. He had always tried to maintain some distance, to keep things from crossing a line, but it seemed that in doing so, he had only made his feelings more obvious—to both Sam and himself.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at Dean, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of them. “And it wasn’t just you, Dean”, Sam continued, his voice tinged with frustration and concern. “At first, I thought she just had a little crush on you, like most teenage girls do. I figured it was harmless, something she’d grow out of, you know?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened as Sam’s words hit home. The thought that you might have been struggling with your own feelings for just as long as he had only made the situation more complicated. It wasn’t just about him anymore; it was about you too, and how you had been dealing with emotions that were just as confusing and overwhelming as his own.

Sam shook his head slightly, as if trying to make sense of it all. “But then, she didn’t grow out of it. She grew into it. And I could see that it wasn’t just a crush anymore. It was… more. And honestly, it scared me, because I knew how much she looked up to you, how much she depended on you. I was worried that… that it would get too complicated, that someone would end up hurt”.

Dean’s knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, his mind spinning with the implications of Sam’s words. He had always been the protector, the one who kept a clear boundary between what was right and wrong. But now, that boundary was so blurred that he could barely see it, and the idea that you had been going through something similar made his chest tighten with guilt.

Sam noticed Dean’s struggle and sighed deeply. He knew how much his brother was beating himself up over this, but he also knew that Dean was stuck in a mindset that wasn’t helping anyone—least of all you.

“Dean”, Sam started, his voice softening as he tried to reason with his brother, “this isn’t the 80s anymore. People are a lot more open about relationships with age gaps. It’s not like you have some sick fetish or something. Yeah, the situation isn’t ideal, but when is anything in our lives ideal? We’ve never exactly had a ‘normal’ existence”.

Dean let out a bitter laugh, his eyes filled with frustration. “Yeah, well, it sure as hell doesn’t feel right. I’m supposed to be the one looking out for her, not… not making things more complicated”.

Sam nodded, understanding where Dean was coming from, but he didn’t relent. “I get that, I really do. But what’s the alternative here, Dean? Ignore how you feel? Pretend that none of this is real and hope it goes away? Because from what I can see, that’s not working. If anything, it’s making things worse”.

Dean rubbed his face, his eyes staring into the distance as if the answers to his internal conflict might be found somewhere in the shadows of the room.

When he finally looked back at Sam, there was a raw vulnerability in his eyes that Sam hadn’t seen in a long time. Dean struggled to find the right words, to express the deep-seated fears that had been gnawing at him ever since that night in Montana.

“She’s still a virgin, Sam”, Dean said, his voice low, almost as if he was ashamed to admit it. “If… if something happened between us, I’d be her first. In everything. And I don’t want that for her. I don’t want to be the guy who takes all those firsts from her. She deserves to have those experiences with someone her age, someone who isn’t… messed up like I am”.

Sam listened carefully, his expression softening as he took in what Dean was saying. He knew his brother well enough to understand the layers of guilt and responsibility that Dean was grappling with. But he also knew how fiercely protective Dean could be, how possessive he was when it came to the people he cared about.

“You think she’d be better off with some guy her age?”, Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t challenging Dean, but he wanted to make sure his brother really thought about what he was saying. “Some guy who doesn’t know her the way you do, who hasn’t been through what we’ve been through? Dean, you know as well as I do that most people out there can’t even begin to understand the life we live. Do you really think she’s going to find someone who gets her like you do?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them as if he could squeeze the confusion out of his mind. “I just… I don’t want to mess her up, Sam. She’s been through enough already, and if I’m the one who… who takes those firsts, I don’t know if I can live with that. What if she regrets it? What if she decides later that she made a mistake?”.

Sam sighed heavily as he got up from his chair, the weight of the conversation pressing down on both of them. He made his way over to Dean’s stash of whiskey, knowing that his brother could use something to take the edge off the turmoil he was clearly feeling. Sam grabbed the bottle, poured two generous glasses, and then returned to his seat, handing one to Dean without a word.

Dean accepted the glass with a nod of thanks, but his eyes were still distant, lost in the maze of his thoughts. He took a sip, the familiar burn of the whiskey grounding him just a little, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the guilt gnawing at his insides.

Sam took a long sip from his own glass before setting it down on the table with a soft clink. He looked at Dean, his expression serious but filled with understanding. “I’m not gonna keep saying this, Dean, but you need to hear it: she’s an adult. She’s not some kid who doesn’t know what she wants”.

Dean’s grip tightened on his glass, the tension in his shoulders still evident. “I know she’s an adult, Sam. But I’ve known her since she was a kid. That’s the problem. How can I just forget that?”.

Sam leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re not supposed to forget it. But you also can’t let it be the only thing that defines her. She’s grown up, Dean. And yeah, she’s been through a lot, but so have you. That doesn’t mean she’s broken or that she doesn’t know what she wants. If she’s choosing you, it’s because she sees something in you that she values, something that she wants”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he took another sip of whiskey, letting the words sink in. He knew Sam was right—on some level, he understood that you were capable of making your own choices. But the fear of hurting you, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, was almost paralyzing.

“Dean, I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. She’s not looking for normal—she’s looking for something real, something that she can hold on to in this crazy life we live. And maybe she’s found that in you. You can’t keep punishing yourself for having feelings, man. You’re allowed to be happy too, you know”.

Dean was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. The idea of happiness felt foreign to him, like something that had always been just out of reach. He had spent so much of his life putting others first, protecting them, sacrificing for them, that he didn’t know how to even consider the possibility of having something good for himself.

“I care about her too much to hurt her”.

“And that’s exactly why you won’t”, Sam said, his tone full of conviction. “Because you care about her, because you’re thinking about what’s best for her. That’s what makes you different, Dean. You’re not going to hurt her because you’re already trying so hard not to. But you have to stop holding yourself back out of fear. Talk to her, be honest with her, and let her be honest with you. You both deserve that”.

Dean looked up at Sam, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he processed his brother’s words. Sam’s suggestion caught him off guard, but he couldn’t deny the truth in it. They had been dancing around this issue for too long, and Sam was right—something had to give.

“You know what?”, Sam said, setting his empty glass down with a decisive thud. “I’m going out tonight”. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “I’m giving you and her the bunker to yourselves. When I get back, you two better have talked, Dean”.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam cut him off with a raised hand. “Don’t try to weasel out of this. You’re the older one, right? Act like it. Be the grown-up here and talk to her. She deserves to know what you’re thinking, and you deserve to know what she’s feeling too”.

“You make it sound so easy”, Dean muttered, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of fear.

Sam gave him a sympathetic look but didn’t back down. “I know it’s not easy, Dean. But it’s necessary. You can’t keep avoiding this. If you don’t talk to her, it’s just going to keep eating at both of you. And honestly, I think you’ll both be better off once everything is out in the open”.

Dean nodded slowly, knowing deep down that Sam was right. He had been avoiding this for too long, letting his fear and guilt control his actions. But it was time to face the truth, no matter how difficult it might be.

“Alright”, Dean finally said, his voice resigned but determined. “I’ll talk to her”.

Sam smiled, relieved to see his brother finally accepting what needed to be done. “Good".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall @lilbloggs @emily-winchester

[urmymiller]

Baby’s Been Waitin’

warning/tags: MDNI. 2003!joel x reader. no use of y/n. reader has no physical description but is said to have a job. age gap (i imagine reader to be 10/11 years younger than joel). established relationship. soft dom!joel (?). implied smut (?). reader being a bit of a brat (that's code for horny but let's be real, who wouldn't be for joel?). wc: 1k

a/n: i wrote this only cause i miss pre outbreak!joel and have been having dreams about him. lmk if there are any errors. enjoy! 🩵

On your end, it’s a boring Saturday night because you didn’t work today. Although on your boyfriend's end, it's the opposite because he sadly did. He had called you earlier in the day, saying something along the lines of, “Sorry baby, work’s gonna go on a little longer,” and mentioned something about them not having the materials they needed.

You felt that you barely saw Joel that morning. He woke before the sun rose and took a shower. He was quiet, since he knew you didn't work today so he wanted you to sleep in as long as you could. After he got dressed and grabbed his stuff, he went to your side of the bed and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey I'm leaving Baby, I'll see you later okay? I love you."

You lifted your hand up to his that was cradling your face, and hummed. "Okay, have a good day, I love you." You said sleepily.

"I will. Bye babygirl." He smiled as he stood up to close the door to the bedroom and leave for work.

****

Later that day, as you’re lying on the couch watching a movie, patiently waiting for Joel to come home, is when you hear the front door open and see that it’s him. He walks over and collapses onto the couch, next to you, and begins to take his shoes off. “There you are. Hey,” you say with a smile. You can tell he looks tired, but you give him a kiss on the cheek anyway.

He rests his head on your shoulder, looking up at you and smiles softly while he puts his hand on your thigh and rubs it, as if to say, “Sorry for being late and not giving you a kiss, I’m just exhausted.” You understand. You sit upright and ask him how his day went. He chuckles, putting both hands in his face and rubbing it, “You don’t wanna know how my day went, I promise you,” he says. But again, you ask him, in a seductive voice (hoping he won't notice), to tell you, saying, “C’mon, baby… I wanna know how your day went so I can make you feel better.” He looks you up and down, as if he’s suspicious of you, but ignores it and says, “Okay, only because you asked.” You smile. 

As he begins to speak, he doesn’t even realize you’ve started massaging his shoulders, and he leans back into you. Still going on about his day, he says, “Yeah, right there. Oh my god, baby…”

Even though he can’t see you, you smile and ask, “That feels good, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Holy shit. Where did you learn to do that?”

 You shrug and say sarcastically, “Can’t tell you. It’s top secret. You’ll never find out.” 

He rolls his eyes and laughs, “Yeah, whatever. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’ because let me tell you… it feels amazing. Don't ever stop. ”

You laugh. And after a pause, you think to yourself and smile.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks.

“No reason…” you say with a playful smirk.

“Baby, what are you up to?” He turns his head slightly. 

“Nothing!” You laugh as he’s getting suspicious of you.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s somethin’, so tell me.”

“It’s nothing, I promise.” You say as you try your best to hide your smirk. He holds your gaze and squints, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying to him or not. 

After a pause, you can’t help but spit it out, “It’s just… you wanna be bossy and tell me what to do so…” You roll your eyes sarcastically. 

He pauses, then quickly turns around and grabs your wrist as you’re about to put your hands over his shoulders onto his chest. “Did you just... call me ‘bossy’?”

“Yeah, what about it? It’s the truth.” You smirk.

“I should be the one calling you bossy, not the other way around. Besides, I know what you’re doing,” he says, trying not to smile.

You shrug and say sarcastically, “You do? Because from where I’m sitting, I’m just massaging my boyfriend because he works so hard, and since I was here all day, I’d like to make him feel better when he comes home. But he didn’t say the magic word, so I stopped.” You pout.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs once more, “You’re doing it on purpose at this point.”

Still acting like you know nothing, you say, “Doing what? And on purpose? Baby, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to massage you, but like I said… you’re being bossy. What’s a girl to do?”

He slightly smirks and tilts his head to one side. “Call me bossy one more time and watch what happens.”

You smirk as well and pause. “Bo—”

He flips you over face-down so fast that you gasp and laugh. He gets on top of your back to straddle you and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Listen closely, okay?” You smile as you nod.

“We’re gonna go upstairs to our bedroom and I’m gonna give you what you want because I know that you want it, even though you could've just asked. But also because I’m so sorry for leaving you all alone and bored. Then, you’re gonna give me what I want, okay, brat?” He emphasizes the word "brat," knowing you planned this from the very beginning. Although he knows what you’ve been doing, he can’t deny that he loves giving you some of the best nights of your life—the kind that leave you sore the next day. 

“Okay,” you say, smirking as you turn your head to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, what?” he says.

“Okay, Baby.”

“That’s my girl. C’mon.” He lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder.

"Oh my-- Joel!" You gasp, and the both of you laugh as he carries you up the stairs.

"This is what you wanted, right?" He says with a huge grin on his face.

“You’re gonna say the magic word for me to give you what you want, right?”

He rolls his eyes and lies you down on the bed. “We’ll see how you feel about me saying that ‘magic word’ after this.”

[flowersintheimpala69]

Happy Wincest Wednesday! Question of the day: does Bobby know?

I know it’s Thursday now but emotionally it’s still wincest Wednesday for me 🙏 (sorry for the late response)

on one hand how couldn’t Bobby know?? Sam and Dean are like sons to him + he’s known them since they were kids, how could he miss something so big like them banging?

on the other hand Bobby has NO clue. He sees hints of it, sure, he’s not blind, but he just can’t think about them like that. it’s such an outrageous idea, he can never even suspect it.

When Sam & Dean were kids Bobby was a bit weirded out by their close behavior. Sometimes he’d catch himself thinking it’s weird how they still share a bed/bath/toothbrush, or how 6 y/o Sam cries whenever Dean leaves the room for too long. That’s not normal brother behavior, Bobby’s not stupid, he knows that. But at the same time he just can’t see what’s there cuz 1) he’s not looking for it and 2) he keeps making excuses or justifications for the weird behavior. Like yea they still takes baths together even tho deans a preteen but hey. They’ve had a rough go at things. Lord knows John isn’t raising them right. It’s not their fault they’re a bit.. codependent or weird. So Bobby just assumes they’ll grow out of it.

He assumes wrong. 16 y/o Sam and 20 y/o Dean come visit (aka dropped off by john so he can go chase a yellow eyes clue for fuck knows how long) and they’re still doing the weird intimate stuff. They share a bed, Dean washes Sam’s hair in the shower, Dean takes a piss while Sam brushes his teeth, they spend nearly all their time together.. and Bobby decides he’s gotta say smth, cuz sure Sam and dean are weirder than most kids their age (theyre hunters for fucks sake ofc they’re weird) but even this is Too Weird.

So Bobby takes Dean aside one night and is like. Heyyyy. Maybe you should stop cutting Sam’s toast crust off for him and cuddling with him and how about I buy u a toothbrush so yall don’t have to share one anymore. And maybe you could go into town and meet some kids your age. How about that.

After their ‘talk’ Bobby sees a visible change in Sam and Dean’s behavior. They don’t cuddle or sleep in the same bed. They use their own toothbrushes and stop sharing clothes. Dean stops motherhenning Sam, and Sam stop clinging to Dean like an imprinted duckling. And Bobby’s like wow I’m amazing at this parenting thing!! Yay!

(In reality Dean and Sam just start hiding it more. But Bobby dosent need to know that)

Sometimes Bobby still notices weirdish stuff about Sam and dean. Like the way Dean touches Sam’s lower back, or when they seemingly disappear for a few hours and when they turn up again Sam has bruises (??) peeking out from under his shirt collar, and deans face is flushed. But it’s so seldom that Bobby just dosent think abt it for too long. It’s whatever.

When Sam and Dean are adults they hide it almost perfectly. Sometimes bobby will find it odd how close they stand together, or how only one of the motel beds looks slept it, or how sometimes they’ll stumble out of the impala, all awkward smiles, Sam limping, and the car windows fogged up. but Bobby mostly assumes they’ve grown out of the weird codependency/intimacy thing.

Bobby does eventually find out in s7. As a ghost he’s tethered to the flask that’s in dean’s possession. Which is how he ends up having to watch Sam and dean have dirty disgusting immoral rough sex every night per their routine. At first he’s shocked, then he’s just REALLY uncomfortable, but he can’t escape it as long as his flask is with Dean.

And Dean carries that fucking flask everywhere. Bobby’s seen Dean blow his brother all across America. In diner bathrooms, once in an empty theater, alleyways, in motel rooms from Austin TX to Boston MA, in the impala. So many times in the impala. Bobby cringes thinking of all the time he’s sat in that car, unknowingly amongst Sam and deans sex germs.

Finally, Bobby is able to make contact with Sam and Dean. There’s this awkward moment of silence where Dean and Sam are realizing. oh. Bobby’s been here the whole time. oh. Bobby’s been here while we’ve banged. Oh. Bobby’s seen us have sex. And knows abt the incest thing. Shoot.

Bobby can see them giving eachother looks and debating whether they should bring it up, but Bobby changes the topic cuz tbh they got bigger problems (leviathan, dick roman) and he dosent wanna have the Incest Talk with his pseudo sons rn.

The next time Bobby sees one of them, it’s when Dean goes to heaven after dying in the finale. They have their talk, and ofc there’s the Large Incestous Elephant in the room so after a moment of silence Dean is like. Heyyyy. So. About me and Sam’s.. relationship..And Bobby interrupts him and is like the less I know the better, and that’s the closest they ever get to talking abt it.

When Bobby occasionally visits Dean and Sam in heaven (in their heaven house or whatever) there’s a tacit rule that Dean and Sam act Normal around Bobby. They do a pretty good job, although sometimes Bobby will catch the tail end of a kiss when he walks back into a room.

I don’t think Bobby would hate them for it. He’s sorta disgusted and veryyyy weirded out abt it cuz. Incest. But also those are his boys. He couldn’t hate them even if he tried.

Thanks for the ask <3 happy belated wincest Wednesday !!

[genderqueerdykes]

hi! as a trans man who is also a butch dyke i just wanted to say: thank you so much for running this blog and showing me i’m not the only person in the world who identifies in this “contradictory” way. it’s funny how other queer people want to exclude us for being too queer. growing up i’ve been called a machorra* by my mom countless times, but just because i’m a guy now i can’t reclaim the slur? like, yes i am a dude now, i’m not even nonbinary, but the fact i used to be a girl really impacted my struggles with sexuality! it’s natural for my past to shape my current identity.

*macho (male) + cachorra (bitch). very derogatory term towards masc lesbians used in brazil. it could be equivalent to dyke.

you summed up how i feel perfectly!

im very sorry to hear your mom called you that. it's so fucked up when someone's own parent calls them slurs. there's no reason she should've called you that. and now people are piling more abuse on top of that by furiously tell you you can't use it now that you're a guy. which is just stupid, nothing about your life has changed except now people are aware that you're a guy. it doesn't change the fact that you've been called that slur before, and that it still affects you

things like that especially when they happen in our formative years are going to shape how we see ourselves and our relationships with others in the world. if we get relegated to being dykes and lesbians, sometimes that's where we go. sometimes that's just who we are or who we become. it's unreal to think that people assert that just because you came out means that you have to stop identifying with the slur you got called and still get called. trans men and mascs get called dykes. transfems and trans women get called fags.

it's as easy as that and yet. anyway thank you for sending this message, i appreciate it! im sorry your mom is like that, but i'm glad you're finding power in reclaiming your identity! feel free to stop by again at any point!

[luvergirl-866]

fair game

word count - 2.8k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - language, smut (kinda filthy but i know yall freaky)(also, i’m a firm believer in vocal!azzi)

a/n - two posts in one day, who am i?? anyway this is completely unedited, i haven’t even read it over once lol, so i will come back and edit later. also written in like an hour. anyway i hope yall like!! goodnight 🙏🏻🙏🏻 (also, sorry i didn’t make them rly fight. the best i can do is tickle fighting lol)

Basketball has always been Paige’s thing.

She knew it the minute she first picked up a ball when she was five. Her dad asked her to try other things, and she did: softball, soccer, tennis. And she was good at all of them—but at the end of the day, she always found herself back in her driveway with a ball in her hands, shooting into the lowered hoop her dad had bought for her.

There are plenty of people who play basketball, who love the game as much as she does. But there are few people who can win against her and even fewer who know the game like her.

Apparently, Azzi Fudd is trying really hard to take that spot.

“Bro, first to 11 wins! That was the rules the whole time!”

“First to 11, win by 2,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes. She’s repeated this a few times now, but Paige still isn’t having it.

“Nah, we never said that,” she says, dribbling between her legs.

“Okay, now you’re just lying.”

To be fair, she is lying. She knows damn well that those were the rules they made up before they started this 1v1. But she refuses to let this win go, considering she’s lost the last two 1v1s and the game of HORSE she and her best friend have played this past week. Honestly, Azzi should just give her the win.

Instead, Azzi sighs, refusing to let this go. “C’mon, Paige. You need one more point to win, just play it.”

“I already won!” Paige insists. But there’s that little voice nagging at her, telling her this isn’t as satisfying as a real win.

The voice sounds suspiciously like a certain curly-haired, caramel-skinned basketball player.

“You know it’s not a good win,” Azzi says, almost echoing the voice in Paige’s head.

Paige falters.

“What,” Azzi continues, “too scared you can’t get another point against me?”

“No,” Paige says, then clears her throat and spins the ball on her finger, “I mean, nah.”

“What is it, then?” Azzi takes a few steps forward, looking a little too distracting in her sports bra and basketball shorts. “You need me to stroke your ego a little bit? Let you win the game even though we both know it’s not fair?”

Paige has half a mind to make a joke about Azzi stroking her, but Azzi’s too close now for her to think straight. (Ironically.)

“I’on know what you’re talking about,” Paige shrugs. The ball on her finger tips, and Azzi catches it at lighting speed, spinning around when Paige tries to grab for it.

“Yo, gimme my ball!” Paige says, reaching around Azzi.

Azzi giggles, dribbling up the court and dodging Paige’s dirty grab for the ball.

“Hey, tech!” Azzi yells, and Paige laughs, right up on her back.

They stop beyond the three-point line, and instead of defending, Paige stands behind her, arms wrapping tight around her bare waist.

Azzi looks over her shoulder and grins, which is sort of the opposite of how Paige wanted her to react. And then, slowly, she lifts her hand to touch Paige’s jaw, tipping their faces together. They’re so close that Paige can feel Azzi’s breath on her lips.

Azzi’s grin changes, becoming a little devious, and then she blinks and looks up at Paige through her lashes, brown eyes all big and innocent all of a sudden, which makes Paige kind of blank out. So when Azzi licks her lips and says, “I make this three, I win,” Paige nods, her imagination elsewhere.

And just like that, Azzi steps out of her grasp, dribbles a few times, and shoots. The shot is beautiful, tear-drop, just kissing the back of the rim before it goes in.

Azzi whoops, turning around to flex at Paige. “Hell yeah!”

“Wha—“ Paige stutters, then shakes her head vehemently. “No, that don’t count. That’s not—you played dirty, I wasn’t even defending, I—!”

“I drained a deep three, in your face,” Azzi says smugly. She brushes past Paige as she heads toward the door leading to the locker rooms. “Once again, I win. 13-11.”

Paige watches her hips sway as she walks before running to catch up with her. “That didn’t count. It wasn’t part of the game.”

“Was, too.” Azzi waits by the door, and Paige doesn’t even think about it before pushing it open for her. Azzi smiles at her like the spoiled princess she is, but Paige can’t really blame anybody but herself for that.

“Bruh, you cheated!” Paige follows Azzi to her locker. “That’s the only way you can win against me, apparently. You just cheat every time.”

Azzi seems too unbothered by this, which just makes Paige more bothered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Paige shoves her shoulder. “This why you don’t like us to compete with an audience!”

“Ow!” Azzi says, rubbing her shoulder and pouting dramatically.

“You know if anyone watched us play, they’d call you out,” Paige continues. “So you make sure it’s only us.”

Azzi shoves her back. “I have other reasons for making sure it’s only us,” she says teasingly, before turning back toward her locker, pulling a t-shirt out and making to put it on.

Before she can, though, Paige grabs her and spins her around, shoving her against her locker and staring at her intensely for a few moments before…

Tickling her.

“Ow, Paige!” Azzi yelps, dropping the shirt in her hands to defend herself against Paige’s attack to her rib cage. The onslaught of giggles come within seconds, uncontainable, the best friends having known each other long enough to have learned all their most ticklish spots.

“You cheated!” Paige says, biting back a smile at Azzi’s infectious laughter, even as she tries to fight her off.

“Did…” she gasps for air, “not!”

“You did too!” Paige replies, fingers moving to jab at the pressure points on her waist, making her screech. “I won that game and you know it!”

“Paige!” Azzi giggles, and Paige moves even closer to pull them flush together, moving her hands lower to tickle the backs of Azzi’s thighs, her most secret ticklish spot. And as Paige bends down slightly to reach, Azzi’s hands automatically go to her shoulders, and then Paige isn’t even tickling her anymore because Azzi’s hot breath is fanning right over her ear.

The strangest thing is, Azzi doesn’t push her away when she freezes. Instead—and Paige might be imagining it—she pulls her just that much closer.

They’re like that for maybe a second, Paige’s arms wrapped around the backs of Azzi’s thighs, Azzi’s arms snaking around Paige’s neck, before Azzi whispers her name right in her ear and that does it.

Without thinking about things like the consequences of her actions, Paige straightens up, takes Azzi’s waist, and closes the gap between them.

Their first kiss is how she always imagined it would be—and yes, she’s not ashamed to say she has definitely imagined it. It is electric and butterflies in her tummy and the first drop on a really big rollercoaster.

And those butterflies might be something a little less innocent because when Azzi makes this little noise against her mouth, Paige burns. She burns and she thinks Azzi might be burning, too, so she licks up against Azzi’s lips to test that theory and it’s confirmed when Azzi opens right up for her.

“Fuck, Paige,” Azzi mumbles against her lips before going back in for more, their tongues clashing in the filthiest way. It sends wet heat straight to Paige’s core.

Boldened by the wet sounds of their kisses, Paige moves away, basking in the whine Azzi lets out when she starts trailing open-mouthed kisses down her jaw.

“Paige, Paige, fuck,” she whimpers. Paige sucks at her earlobe and she keens, and Paige is glad they’re alone in this locker room because these noises are only for her to hear.

“This was what you wanted, huh?” Paige asks gruffly, biting at the shell of Azzi’s ear. “This what you were acting so fuckin’ bratty for?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi whines shamelessly, holding Paige’s head to her neck. But Paige won’t have it. She pulls her head away from her best friend at the same time as she trails her hands down to her ass and squeezes, Azzi looking her right in the eyes as she whines again.

“How you want me, mama?” Paige asks, leaning in close enough that their lips brush.

“Tongue,” Azzi breathes automatically, and it sends a surge of something sweet and hot through Paige at the knowledge that Azzi has thought of this, too.

But Azzi was far too cocky out there. And for that, Paige needs to remind her who’s in control.

“Too fuckin’ bad,” Paige whispers, and she only has time to see Azzi’s eyes fly open in confusion before she’s spinning her around and pressing her up against the lockers, her ass all up against Paige’s crotch.

“Paige,” Azzi moans when Paige attaches to neck again, and if she keeps saying her name like that Paige might just come on the spot. “Paige, stop teasing, I need you.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, sucking a mark into the skin of Azzi’s shoulder, knowing she won’t be able to wear her slutty little tanks for at least a week after this. “Ask nicely, pretty girl.”

“I don’t…” Azzi sighs when Paige licks over one of the many marks she’s created. “Don’t wanna.”

“No?” Paige asks, not at all shocked at Azzi’s stubbornness. “Mm.” She detaches her lips, appreciating her handiwork, dark marks forming over Azzi’s shoulder trailing to the back of her neck. “That’s too bad, then.” She runs her hands over Azzi’s bare stomach, playing with the band of her basketball shorts. “I really wanted to fuck you.”

And just as her hand dips under her waistband, Paige moves away from her best friend, smiling smugly when Azzi glares at her over her shoulder. “Paige.”

Paige just raises her eyebrows.

“Fuck, even now you need to be annoying,” Azzi sighs, and Paige gets the strong urge to slap her ass, but she gets the feeling Azzi would take more pleasure from that than anything.

“If you won’t use your manners,” Paige says slowly, “I’m gonna go home. I needa shower, for real.”

“Shit,” Azzi says under her breath, leaning her forehead against the lockers. And Paige enjoys the view, the bare expanse of her back, the curve of her ass, before Azzi is looking back at her once again and those innocent doe eyes are out for her. “Please, Paige. Please, God, please fuck me.” For good measure, Azzi throws in an adorable little pout. “Need you so bad.”

Paige is back up against her in a second.

Before Azzi can properly react, she’s shoving her hand down the front of Azzi’s shorts and underneath her panties to drag her fingers through her folds, gasping at the slick that’s accumulated there.

“Fuck,” she breathes despite herself, kissing against Azzi’s jaw. “So fuckin’ wet for me, mama.”

Azzi whines out a little hum, and Paige is finding that she really loves how bratty Azzi sounds even as Paige is running her fingers through her pussy.

Paige finds her clit and pulls away to watch Azzi’s face when she starts rubbing tight little circle there. Azzi doesn’t disappoint, pressing her hands up against the lockers to brace herself, jaw dropping open. Paige presses against her hard, and Azzi’s head falls back onto Paige’s shoulder.

Azzi starts grinding against Paige’s hand when Paige abruptly pulls away, fingers leaving Azzi’s slick and underwear as she brings them up to her own mouth.

Azzi looks both turned on by the sight of Paige tasting her and frustrated at the lack of stimulation. “Paige, baby, please, I need more.”

The use of the nickname has Paige like putty in Azzi’s hands, even though she’s supposed to be the one in control here. “I know,” she says once she’s done cleaning Azzi’s arousal off her own fingers. “Be patient.”

Azzi grumbles something about that, and this time Paige does smack her ass, smirking when Azzi bites her lip to contain a noise that’s borderline pornographic. “You little freak,” she teases, yanking Azzi’s shorts and underwear down. “You like to be spanked.”

“Shut up, P,” Azzi breathes, looking back over her shoulder. Paige is too busy staring at her ass to care, though, and then she’s running her hands over it, squeezing it, and Azzi chuckles breathily. “I knew you liked my ass.”

“Fuck,” is all Paige can manage.

And then, without warning, she’s plunging two fingers directly into Azzi’s dripping cunt.

Azzi moans, loud, and Paige brings her free hand up to her neck, pulling her close as she lets her adjust to the stretch. “Good?”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Azzi whimpers, turning her head for a kiss that Paige really can’t resist.

They make out for a second before Paige starts moving, slowly, in and out, scrunching her eyebrows at the feel of Azzi’s hot walls clenching around her fingers.

Paige pulls away from her lips to watch her hand move between them, mesmerized at the way Azzi sucks her in. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, being so fucking good for me,” she murmurs, speeding up her pace. “You like this, huh? Like me fuckin’ you from behind like the little brat you are?”

Azzi’s moving against her now, gyrating her hips to keep in time with Paige’s hand, the sight of her ass moving back and forth soaking Paige’s own underwear.

“Answer me, mama,” she replies, punctuating it with an extra hard thrust.

“Yes,” Azzi moans, all high-pitched and pretty-sounding. “Fuck, fuck, wanna be so fucking good for you, P, fuck.”

Paige may be in the middle of fucking her long-time best friend, but that statement still gives her some satisfaction. “Yeah? Wanna admit I won that game?”

Azzi throws it back against her hand and shakes her head. “Can’t believe you’re—uh!—talking about that…oh my god…right now.”

Paige starts ramming into her, arm moving fast enough that she thanks God she hits the gym so often. “I want you to admit it, Az.” She slides her hand down from her throat to hold her by the stomach.

“Oh, fuckkkk,” Azzi groans when Paige massages that spongy spot deep inside her. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby, right fucking there.”

“Admit that I won,” Paige says, “and I’ll let you come.”

“You wouldn’t—fucking edge me,” Azzi says, trying to glare at her but it falls a little flat considering she’s being fucked into oblivion.

“You wanna find out?” Paige dares.

She’s fucking her hard now, taking her from the back like she’s always wanted, and Azzi is making all sorts of noises that Paige has only ever heard in her filthiest dreams.

Paige slams into her particularly hard and Azzi gushes over her fingers, her slick trailing down Paige’s wrist, which is just so fucking hot. And that seems to convince Azzi that she doesn’t want to test Paige on this because she says, “Okay, fine, you—mm, fuck—you won. You won, now please just let me cum, please, baby.”

Paige smiles at hearing her beg. She scissors her fingers inside as she leans close to her ear to whisper, “Good girl, Az. Sound so pretty begging for me.”

Azzi is so close now, stomach tensing under Paige’s hand as she lets out little ah ah ah’s in time with each thrust.

“You can come, mama,” Paige says, pressing her lips to Azzi’s. “Come all over my fucking fingers, hm? Wanna feel you so bad.”

There are tears streaming down Azzi’s cheeks at this point, and she nods vehemently against Paige. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, so fucking close,” she whines. “Fuck, love your fingers so much. Love you so much.”

Of course, they have said I love you to each other before. They are best friends. But they have never quite said it while one was knuckles-deep inside the other.

Still, Paige is lost in this insane haze of fucking, and so she presses her lips to Azzi’s cheek and says, “I love you, pretty girl,” and then Azzi is crying out, knees nearly buckling as she comes hard.

Paige fucks her through it, holding her tight so she doesn’t fall, pumping her fingers slowly even after Azzi slumps against her, breathing heavy.

“Fuck, P,” she says after a minute. Paige laughs, halting her movements but staying firmly inside her best friend. “Yeah,” she agrees. “Fuck.”

Azzi looks at her through hooded eyes. “You’re really good at that.”

Paige hums, pressing a gentle kiss to Azzi’s shoulder. “So I’ve been told.”

“Shut up,” Azzi teases, voice all scratchy. “God,” she says as Paige finally pulls out, “we actually did that.”

“Yeah,” Paige laughs, a little nervously. “We did.”

Finally, Azzi turns around in Paige’s arms, hiking her bottoms back up as she does, and she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck, resting against her chest. After a minute she says, “Paige?”

“Hm?”

Azzi looks up at her, giving her those damn eyes once again. “Take me home.”

Neither of them sleeps that night.

Okkk I have a one shot prompt for pazzi! So we all know they are super competitive so I was thinking they were playing some type of game and they both think they are right and end up arguing and then like physically fighting with eachother until one of them ends up on top of the other. This basically leads to their first kiss and ya….

i love this, super cute idea! are you thinking fluff, smut, both…?

[manikeri]

Eren bf hcs!!

SFW!💋

-don’t attack me for this but I feel like he wouldn’t call you ma/mamas etc. (don’t get me wrong I loveeee when you guys do that but I just feel like he wouldn’t say it!

-eren 100% sleep talks

-he doesn’t like to drink, at all. He went out with the guys and came back sooooo wasted he felt like he was dying. Don’t let me get started on his hangover

-I feel like eren would only play the game if you’re not there. You’re his entertainment

-always bumping or stepping into something, he’ll be talking to you while not paying attention to anything infront of him and them BAM! or he’ll step in mud with his new shoes on

-he’s learned to put his pride to the side since he’s gotten with you. You told him to put on a jacket since it’s cold? He lets you pick what jacket he should wear. Doesn’t matter if it messes the fit up or not

-since his dad is a doctor, he always knows when something is up. Don’t try to hide it either he’ll find out immediately.

-Not into pda. he’ll hold your hand, kiss you, and give you compliments but all that making out infront of everyone and just being intimate with you is so cringe to him. -he ties your shoes for you all the time, he even laces up your heels!

-since being with you he’s learned to control his anger. From breathing exercises to thinking before he speaks. (His mom still thanks you to this day for that.)

-he’ll take note of things you like and add it to his notes for later

-you got him his own bonnet to protect his hair and he hates it! (you don’t care at all and still make him wear it every night) and he always grumbles about how the band is uncomfy on his forehead

-he’s soo needy when he’s sick like the man will literally not let you go (then he makes you sick)

-he apologizes so much! More than you!

“I’m so sorry baby”

“eren stop apologizing..”

“sorry sorry..”

-he’s just adorable when he’s tired. That’s it.

NSFW!💋

-I feel like eren like to take things at a medium pace. Not too slow, not too fast. It’s just right

-eren is not the type to just pull out his phone and record them send it to people he doesn’t like (once again not judging anyone)

-he only records when you’re okay with it, if you are he goes to town and puts on a show for the camera (even though you both will be the only one to see)

-he lovessss when your eyes roll back/cross when he’s fucking you. Boosts his ego so much.

-he’s very very vocal. He says “I wanna let you know that you’re making me feel good baby”

-if he asks you to sit on his face he means sit. Not hover. Sit. -if you don’t he slowly wraps his arms around your thighs so you fully sit down

-he’s a nympho

-his favorite position is missionary

-his second one is cowgirl

-he really just loves any position where he can see that pretty face. But he’ll do any position you want him to do

-oh, you want him to use a condom? Pass that packet for him baby. Want him to hit raw? Ok, pull your panties down. Don’t want him to finish inside? Alright, keep that arch for him he’s gonna pull out soon. He’ll do anything to make you comfortable.

-eren can get a little bit out of hand when it come to having sex. Again, he’s a nympho. So just use your safeword.

-if you use the safeword he stops everything and pulls out to check if you’re okay.

-aftercare! He orders food and gives you water to hydrate. Can’t walk? That’s fine, he’ll carry you to the bathroom to go pee.

-He gives you a bath and changes your clothes. He’ll even massage you if he went too rough! (Along with endless apologies) he kisses the marks he made on your skin all better.

-endless praises of how well you took him & how good you did for him! You giggled as he runs his nose from side to side on yours.

[luv-y0urself]

do you like me?

high schooler!myung jaehyun x fem!reader genre: fluff, slice of life | wc: 475 words | warnings: lots of bickering. playful teasing. jokingly confessing. myungjae calls reader "bro" once. 𖤐．guess who's back...! i missed you guys <//3 sorry this isn't my best writing, i haven't written in a HOT minute T^T i promise the next will be better :')

suddenly thinking about myungjae and his girl “best friend” in high school

girl would always, always jokingly tell him that she liked him (although it was never really a joke, because she did indeed like him) and made it kind of obvious that she did

“oh c’mon, why’re you doing that? why can’t i go out with jaehee?”

“... what if i like you, myung? what if that’s why i’m doing this?’

“why’s it different this time around? you never had a problem when i went out with girls before. besides, you always say that!”

“well, that was before. now’s different.”

“... what does that even mean?”

she ignores the tugging in her chest when she watches his face contort into an genuine expression of confusion before she starts laughing loudly, shaking her head. “should’ve seen your expression. you can do whatever you want with jaehee, myung, i don’t care~” she then walks away, calling to her friend down the hall.

“i- bro!”

but one day, the two of them were bickering around as usual before they started walking back home in silence, basking in the last rays of the sun in front of them, the sky reflecting hues of orange and pink. the slight breeze in the air brushes myungjae’s bangs softly as it touches the girl’s, taking the faint scent of her shampoo with it as it flowed away. 

today was no different from other days; she had made fun of myungjae as she spotted him trying to “rizz” up a girl in the hallway, snickering at his annoyed expression before walking away.

“love you, myung!”

all of a sudden, myungjae stops walking, causing her, who was just mindlessly humming a song alongside him, to stop walking, confused. he turns to the girl, reaching out to grab both of her hands and leaning in, so close that she can feel his breath on her lips and the warmth from his body seeping into her own.

“do you like me? tell me you like me.”

she, obviously taken aback, isn’t able to answer right away, feeling the words caught in her throat.

he smiles wide, the beautiful smile of his that blinds her every time he does. the one that she daydreamed about during class, the one that she dreamed about the other day when she realized her true feelings about him.

with him so close she can’t breath she can’t think she can’t speak she can’t move—

“do you not like me? mm?”

how could she lie to those eyes?

“... i- yeah.. yeah i do”

“do you want to go out with me?”

she stops for a moment before she slowly nods her head, which makes him immediately pull her in close;

he burrows into her shoulder, taking a deep breath there with his head pressed up against her neck and collarbone.

“no take backs…”

© luv-y0urself / 2024 | taglist : @onedoornet @blankjournal

[cailinsblog]

something angsty and emotional with qh!

Yesss another request keep them coming guys 💕💕

The Breaking Point | Quinn hughes

Quinn hughes x reader

Masterlist

The soft hum of rain pattering against the windows filled the quiet apartment. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of a tension that had been building for weeks. You sat on the edge of the couch, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you stared at the floor. Across the room, Quinn paced, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said finally, his voice low and strained. “I’m trying.”

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Trying? Quinn, you’ve been so distant. You’re barely here, even when you’re home.”

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I’ve been busy. You know how demanding the season is.”

“That’s not an excuse,” you said, your voice breaking. “I know hockey is important to you, Quinn. I’ve always known that. But you don’t even talk to me anymore. It’s like you’re shutting me out.”

Quinn sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m not trying to shut you out. I just… I don’t know how to handle all of this. The pressure, the expectations—it’s a lot.”

“And what about me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you carry all of that alone? To feel like I’m not enough to help you?”

He walked over and sat down on the couch beside you, though there was still a noticeable distance between you. “It’s not about you not being enough. It’s me. I don’t want to burden you with everything I’m dealing with.”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “That’s what a relationship is, Quinn. We’re supposed to lean on each other. But you’ve been pushing me away, and it hurts. It feels like I’m losing you.”

Quinn closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said quietly. “I’m just scared, Y/N. Scared of failing. Scared of letting everyone down.”

Your heart ached at his confession. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee. “Quinn, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always. But you have to let me in. I can’t help if you keep shutting me out.”

He opened his eyes and looked at you, his gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and guilt. “I know. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you.”

You nodded, wiping away another tear. “We can’t keep going like this, Quinn. We need to communicate, to be honest with each other. I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t keep feeling like this.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re the best thing in my life, Y/N. I’ll do better, I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you knew that if you both were willing to put in the effort, you could get through this together.

Quinn reached out, pulling you into his arms. You leaned into him, feeling the tension begin to melt away as he held you close. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw. “And I’m so sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough.”

“I love you too,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “We’ll get through this, Quinn. Together.”

And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside, you both made a silent promise to work through the challenges ahead, knowing that love and understanding would be your guiding light.