#Midnight's writings

[mournfulroses]

Kim Addonizio, from What Is This Thing Called Love: Poems; "''Round Midnight,"

[linipikk]

Aziraphale shielding Crowley from water

and Crowley shielding Aziraphale from fire

[hexhomos]

dress me in midnight (hold me tight)

[midnightserene]

[moo-blogging]

Nothing in my head but there are signs that Levi is in love with you.

Levi was not an easy person to read. The cadets always found him quiet and stoic and strict. There was always a distance between the cadets and the Captain anyway.

But the Captain was a human as well. He had a beating human heart beneath the uniform jacket, and it started beating differently the moment he realised his heart chose you.

Levi was sure his nervousness was obvious on his face when you were giving a presentation on the lastest findings on titans, but all the other cadets could see was a grimace and thought he was hating the meeting.

And it often crossed his mind if you liked tea too. He had never seen you drinking tea (or at least he couldn't recall seeing you drink tea). At the end of one of the smaller meetings where you were attending too, Levi made tea for everyone just so he could study your reaction to his tea. When you grinned and took another sip, his eyes lit up with satisfaction.

And when you were tasked with running errands in nearby towns, Levi would volunteer to join you too as an escort or to "collect information in the towns" quoted Levi. But truth was, he wanted to spend time with you. With you being in Nanaba's team, Levi had close to no reason to talk to you. He had to create the opportunities.

With Levi by your side, you managed to complete your errands smoothly. The folks were extra happy to see the famous Captain in their stores and giving discounts and allowed you to negotiate prices easily. Levi would help carrying the things you bought. Initially, you declined his help, but he insisted and took the bags from you.

As a token of appreciation, you treated Levi to a cup of tea. He ordered a cup of plain black tea while you ordered one with milk. As you took a small sip on your tea, Levi spoke about how he had never had tea with milk before. You lifted your eyebrow with surprised, and offered Levi to try your tea. He hesitated for a moment before he gently accepted the cup and took a sip. The tea was warm and welcoming, sweet with the aroma of milk and honey with the refreshing tinge of black tea at the end.

You were studying his face as he placed the cup onto the saucer. "Well?" You asked. He nodded, "not bad". But all he could think of was you shared a cup, and now tea with milk would always remind him of you. This moment where you sat together crammed on a small table, drinking overpriced tea from delicate ceramic tea cups with saucers, and you beaming like the sun, would forever be that moment where he knew he would love you for the rest of his life.

[chericos]

BLOOD SUCKING FREAKS!

your faves as vampires— multifandom headcanons

fandom list— vnc (the case study of Vanitas), bsd, jjk, mha, one piece, aot, kny, csm, genshin impact (brings back memories…), haikyuu, soul eater, hxh + more!

cws: nsfw?, blood, biting, possessive/yandere themes, dark themes, bites can be used as a sort of aphrodisiac, overstim themes, mentions of bruising, chasing, “hunting”, mentions of being tied/chained up, some are darker than others due to the characters being more inherently “evil”, unedited, you can tell who my favs are, sorry if some are short... tell me if I missed anything!

MDNI

He’s so sweet and kind with you, always ensuring you’re fully prepared to take him. His big rough hands toying and prodding in such a gentle manner that you can’t help but cry out for more. Tears prick the corner of your eyes at his slow pace, you’re not sure how much longer you could keep going like this. His hands trail up and down leaving goosebumps across your skin. His eyes sharpen as he peers down at the junction of your neck. He tilts his head down, inhaling deeply as he drags his tongue up your collarbone. He hovers over your pulse point, sharp fangs grazing the sensitive spot and you shiver at the feeling.

“May I?”

His voice is thick and laced with lust. you feebly nod your head, letting out a small whimper. He hesitates slightly before biting down. It is weak, and only just pierces the skin enough for it to bleed. But what did you expect your hunk of a vampire is just soft.

Maybe a little too soft.

— Izuku, Tamaki, All might, Nighteye, Nanami, Higuruma, Ino, Rengoku, Gyomei, Kunikida, Fukuzawa, Jouno, Atsushi, Roland, Zack Fair, Armin, Shiro, Kunigami, Reo, Kurapika, Cyno, Aether, Gepard, Hinata, Sugawara, Yamaguchi + your fav

Your skin is already littered with bruises and teeth marks. Small beads of blood trickle down your chest and he carefully laps at them. He's been at it for hours, marking you up, making sure whoever dares to look at you knows you belong to him. But who could blame him

Your flesh is so soft and tender between his teeth he can’t help but want to take a bite. It's like you've put him in a trance. His gorgeous girlfriend, who's so eager and pliable to his touch. You were practically made for him. And the sweet sounds you make when he pushes deeper inside of you, it's not his fault your moans are so hypnotizing.

He doesn't normally get so worked up, but you've been riling him up all day. Teasing him with your touches, whispering dirty words into his ear, it's only natural he would break at some point.

He didn’t mean to get rough, but you just tasted so good he couldn’t resist. You won’t blame him… right?

— Xiao, Ayato, Zhongli, Diluc, Alhaitham, Aizawa, Shoto, Shinso, Bakugo, Gojo, Noritoshi, Vanitas, Uzui, Giyuu, Zoro, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Aki, Rin, Isagi, Shidou, Sae, Tobio, Suna, Oikawa, Reno, Leon, Eren, Jean, Levi, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan + your fav

He's so messy.

Spending hours in between your thighs, kissing the supple skin, and also leaving his claim in their place. he's basically eating you alive, bite marks indented in the flesh, and he hasn't even touched you yet. You're whining for him to stop teasing, pleading for him to give you what you want. And who is he to deny?

Arms hooked under your thighs, keeping you in place from thrashing around. He buries his face into you, his nose nudging up against your clit, and the sensation has you jolting. He gives a tentative lick, eyes shooting up to look at your reaction. Your hands nestle into his hair, tugging at the roots as a moan slips out from your lips. And after that, he's ruthless, eating you out like you're a 5-star meal (you are). He's kissing and licking and sucking, and god, whatever the hell he's doing it's making your mind blank.

You don't have it in you to care about how loud you're being, and he doesn't seem to care either. In fact, they seem to encourage him to rip those pretty pretty sounds from you.

“So sweet f’me baby,”

Slick is practically covering the lower half of his face, but he doesn't seem to care. His eyes are blown wide, giving you a dazed out stare as he continues to lap at your core.

This was going to be a long night.

— Noè, Choso, Connie, Luffy, Tighnari, Kazuha, Itto, Kaeya, Leorio, Ranpo, Techou, Tachihara, Cloud, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Kaiser, Aiku, Kuroo, Tanaka, Miya twins, Hizashi, Mirio, Jin, Hawks, Tamaki, Sero, Denki, Kirishima, Sampo, Jiaoqui + your fav

You're such a brat.

You're lucky he still puts up with you after everything you've pulled. He glares down at you, the eye contact making you uneasy. Your mewling and whimpering did nothing to sway him. Your hands are still tied behind your back as his thighs continue to spread your legs open. His hands as roaming your body, squealing and pinching in places that make you jump, before he leaves them to play with your nipples.

His touch is light and teasing, driving you insane. Your nipples harden under his touch, embarrassing sounds escaping your throat as he continues to toy with them. You shove your face into the pillows next to you to muffle them. One of his hands leaves your chest to grip your chin, tilting your head back to stare directly at him. He wants to see every expression you make.

The tension between your legs becomes too much to ignore and you begin to discreetly hump his thigh, desperate for any kind of friction to relieve you. At least you thought you were discreet. You don't far before his hands are off you and he's shoving you away. With teary eyes you stare at him confused, why did he stop you?

You're needy and sensitive and you want him to touch you again. You beg for him to continue, but all he does is let out a low chuckle. He doesn't plan on letting you off the hook so easily. He wants to make sure this stays ingrained in your head so that you'll never make the same mistake again.

Because you're his, and he'll spend every second reminding you of that fact.

— August Ruthven, Sanemi, Iguro, Akaza, Geto, Dazai, Mori, Fukuchi, Shigiraki, Overhaul, Blade, Reiner, (s4) Eren, Feitan, Chrollo + your fav

He doesn't know why you keep trying, why you continue to run away. He doesn't understand whatever false sense of freedom you feel when he lets you out. Did you really think you could outrun him? Oh, how idiotic. If he had it in him he would pity you, so dumb and naive. It seems like you still haven't learned your lesson.

Your wrists and ankles are bound together, chained up to the wall. Tears prick your eyes but you know he won't care. He's leaning over you, peering down at your small form as you keep yanking at the restraints in hopes of being set free. You and he both know it's futile, so why keep fighting?

He grips your arms, sharp claws pinching the skin. Without warning he hastily leans down to sink his teeth into your neck. You scream out and thrash at the pain but he holds you still, makes you take it.

It doesn't take long for the venom to enter your systems, an intoxicating feeling clouding your mind and a strange but familiar heat coursing through your body. Your body tensed, heart-beat picking up as you tried to deny what was happening.

He licked the wound closed before stepping back. his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you squirm as the aphrodisiac set in. You scream at him, curses getting mixed in with small yelps as your body becomes sensitive to your clothes. But he isn't too worried about that. He'll break you one way or another.

And then you'll see that there is no way of escaping him.

— Sukuna, Kenjaku, Muzan, Douma, Fyodor, Dabi + your fav

HAPPY HALLOWEEN FREAKS!

Anyway just another disclaimer: I don't romanticize the actions performed in the last one, idk it just doesn't do anything for me, I also (personally) think it's unhealthy but wtv floats your boat ig!! (I say this like it isn't the longest section) IDK, it was just kinda fun to write, I've been meaning to get into darker themes(I have a Douma fic I've been meaning to write) so I wanted to go all out and see how it felt.

I love writing heacanons, ahhhhhhhh, I probably won't edit these so hopefully they aren't too bad!

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works

[agencyboys]

it feels like i just got hit by a truck with this... i'm just thinking about how Edwin is running from the red lights of Hell and Charles is running from the blue light of tranquility... and yet they're always running alongside each other

i hope you see where i'm going with this because i don't have the words for how romantic this is

[eeriefeelingsat3amuwu]

hdhahdhajfbajdnaudb Okay having Thoughts™️ about some of these ‘Odysseus raises Astyanax’ fics. Because. Because if we’re talking about the full odyssey experience. If Astyanax were to survive. He would have spent 11 years of his life growing up with Odysseus as his father. Now, to the main area of thought - Telemachus. Imagine. Imagine being a child, hearing of your father only in stories. From your mother, the servants, your grandparents. Seeing your grandmother succumb to her grief, seeing your mother grow sadder by the day, more sullen, seeing your grandfather withdraw into himself, all because of your father.

The man you are told you look like, the man who left for war, six, eight, eleven, fifteen, TWENTY years ago, left your home in disrepair, left your mother and you to deal with suitors disrespecting your house and name, the man who you are so angry at, yet Also worship as a god, because you don’t have a CHOICE. You can’t love him, you don’t KNOW him, but you love him in the way you love your gods - distant, unknowable, unreachable, and yet you have his face, your mother sometimes gates at you with these sad, sad eyes and you know she’s not really seeing you when she tells you she loves you.

You know he is a man, logically, how could he not be when your mother still remembers every calous on his hands and your grandfather tells you of how he almost set his room on fire one day, but he is only a legend to you. You hear other Kings, Kings from the same war your father left for (they came back, they are already back and he is still gone) discussing him, you hear how he helped end the war with your and your mother’s name on his lips and YET! He’s not here, he’s not here but he can’t be dead, because everyone agrees that he is too stubborn to die.

And then. He is back. And he has a boy with him. A boy who is younger than you, still just a child. And he regards the boy as his own, introduces him to you as ‘your brother’. He hasn’t dishonoured your mother, he took the child from the burning city of Troy because he is merciful and kind and you see it in the way the boy hugs him and calls him papa. And you should be happy, your father is back, you have a sibling now, your mother finally smiles properly again, your grandfather no longer cries when he sees you.

But. This boy. The boy your father brought from Troy. He got all that you have ever wanted: he got your father, from the moment he was Born he got your father, he was there for his first steps, his first words, he taught him how to sail, fight, read, count, he has been there with him through it all and you have never wanted anything more. ‘This child is not his son’ says that hateful, angry voice in your head.

You spend time with your father. He weeps, hugs you. Tells you he’s proud of the man you are now. Teaches you how to rule, it is your birthright, he says. He goes hunting with you and tells you he loves you and that the thought of you and your mother got him through many a peril. You spend time with your brother, you make him laugh, he loves you, clings to you just as much as he clings to your father, you teach him more about Ithaca, the way it is now, because he’s only heard stories. And still, in the back of your mind, you know you hate the child. You despise him with every fiber of your heart even if your mind knows he is not to blame - and that he has dealt with the same thing, just opposite to you.

Whereas you had a home, your mother and the rest of your family, but yearned for more than just the memory of your father, wanted for freedom, the boy had him, in the flesh, soothing his nightmares and teaching him to live, had the open sea and the deck of a ship, the capability to go anywhere, he lacked the stability that you had and despised. He didn’t know his grandfathers, would never get to know his grandmother, only had a memory of a mother and a brother, saw them as saints, as a reason to keep pushing forth.

You are opossites. You don’t know how it happened, as the child is not hers, but your brother looks like your mother where you are clearly your father’s son, yet your personalities seem to have been switched. You’re calmer, much more subdued, you don’t smile easily and are weaker of will. Your brother is loud and boisterous, quick to crack a grin and so, so Brave.

You still get the compulsion to bow to your father whenever he enters a room, to touch him to make sure he is real, at times. He sometimes wakes screaming, seeing horrors that you could not imagine in his sleep and doesn’t feel comfortable in a proper bed for years. He sets the curtains on fire and your father laughs in relief and he holds him to his chest. Your own chest cleaves in two.

Just. Is this anything?

[lenle-g]

so the rune the Jayce of this timeline/world gets is the Acceleration rune which is perhaps why he goes to the future instead of going with Heimerdinger and Ekko which gave him the idea to build the Hexgates to transport things quickly over a long distance

and that Ekko uses to build the portal home and his time machine watch

So, if they're using this acceleration rune, even if outwardly nullified by the inversion of Ekko's device being thrown at them, maybe the boys at the end aren't sacrificing themselves...

Maybe they're getting transported

[whisperofwonder]

You make your way down the hallway, fingertips skimming the wall as you navigate by the soft streetlight filtering in through the window. You hadn't wanted to turn on any lights, hoping to wake yourself up as little as possible on your midnight trip to the bathroom. You also hadn't wanted to disturb Atsumu, but as you slip back into the bedroom, you realize it wouldn't have mattered.

He's sitting up in bed, turning to look at you as you enter with a frown creasing his brow. "Where'd ya go?" He asks in a low, gruff voice still tinged with sleep. "I woke up 'n you were gone."

You laugh softly, lifting the covers to slide back into the still-warm spot you'd left only minutes ago. "I just had to go to the bathroom," You whisper.

"Mm. 'Kay," He blinks sleepily, settling back down against his pillows as his hand finds its way to your hip, drawing you in closer to him as he hums softly in contentment. This is an Atsumu you rarely get to see - bleary and sleep-warm, vulnerable in a way he'd never admit to in the light of day.

"Sorry," You murmur, fingertips brushing through bleach-blond hair before trailing down to give his bicep a squeeze.

"'S okay." His lips ghost across your forehead, then he tucks your head beneath his chin. "Love you. G'night."

"Good night," You return softly, "I love you too, Tsumu." You curl in just a little closer, content to let his deep, even breaths and the quiet beating of his heart against your ear lull you back to sleep.

[tune-on-in-folks]

imma need that alastor thigh riding PLEASE!! i literally love ur writing ❤️❤️

Day 15! This is so unpolished. But it's an attempt at me not editing my Alastor fics over and over. So enjoy this quick, probably sloppy entry! Also, thank you for your ask. I hope this is okay! <3

Tags/Warnings: thigh riding, orgasm, fem!reader, honestly pretty tame. Word Count: 1,623

Alastor was sitting in his armchair by the fire, a book in his hand. You pause in the threshold of the bathroom, watching him for a few moments. He had a soft smile on his face, his ear twitching the only sign he was aware you were done with your shower.

“Are you going to stand there all night, my dear?” He asks, his voice startling you out of your reverie.

You blush, meeting his gaze as he lowered his book. “No. I was just enjoying the view.”

He hums, switching his book to one hand as he pats his thigh with the other. “Come here.”

You take a deep breath and head over to the Overlord. You stop in front of him, watching him continue to read. It was still strange to you to see Alastor in his pajamas. Staying in his room was a recent change as well, something you were still trying to get used to.

“Well?” He prompts, “Sit down.”

Collecting your nerves, you perch yourself on his knee. Your apprehension earns you a chuckle from the man before he pulls you flush against his chest. A gasp falls from your lips as he spreads his legs, ensuring that you are straddling his thigh.

“A-Alastor!” You exclaim, face flushing with heat.

It was a really bad time for you to have forgotten your underwear in your room, you realize. Because now you were sitting on his lap in just a robe, your clit dragging deliciously against the fabric of his pants. You shift slightly, biting back a whimper at the stimulation against the sensitive nub. Alastor continues to read, unaware of your dilemma. You figure you’ll be okay as long as you don't move. So you lean back against Alastor’s chest, your eyes landing on the book in his hand. You read a couple of paragraphs before you get bored of whatever story he was reading. His hand rests idly around your waist, leaving every time he has to turn the page. You sit there for a few page turns, trying to ignore your growing boredom. You shift again, having forgotten about the stimulation until you move. You’re unable to stop the small whine that leaves your mouth this time.

“Something the matter, my dear?” Alastor asks, his eyes never leaving his book.

You bite your lip, reassuring him, “Nothing, Al. I’m fine, my love.”

You fall back into silence, listening to the gentle jazz music that fills his room. Your eyes wander about his room, taking in all the decorations on the walls. The contrast between the pocket dimension and the cabin-esque room was stark, but somehow worked. His room was a reflection of him and for that reason, you enjoyed it immensely. Alastor may have been actively courting you, but you still felt like there was a great deal you didn’t know about him.

You crane your neck behind you to watch the deer in the bayou when Alastor begins to idly bounce the leg you are sitting on. Your attention is drawn immediately as each bounce moves you, his pants dragging against your clit deliciously. You bite back yet another whimper as your arousal begins to build in your gut. Experimentally, you roll your hips forward, grinding down against his leg. Alastor’s attention never leaves his book, giving you enough courage to do it again. You quickly fall into a rhythm of grinding against his thigh with each bounce of his leg. His movement hid your own. Your breathing hitches, the pleasure slowly building as you get off against his thigh. You bite back another moan, leaning back further against your lover. You were trying to keep your movements small, barely detectable. Of course, you didn’t account for your arousal, which was quickly dampening Alastor’s pant leg. His brows furrow at the sensation, his leg coming to a sudden standstill. You gasp, your hips rolling forward, searching for the friction he just unknowingly deprived you of.

He raises an eyebrow, his attention being drawn away from his book. He observes your chest rising and falling, your breaths coming fast. His eyes flicker over the flush on your cheeks. How you had ground down against him, and the growing wetness on his pants- perfectly beneath you- clicks. He quickly puts it all together.

Nuzzling against your neck, Alastor whispers, “Now, my little doe, would you like to explain yourself?”

His hand gently trails up your exposed leg, closing around the hem of your robe.

You swallow, your voice wavering slightly as you ask, “E-explain what?”

Alastor begins to bounce his leg again, drawing a gasp from you. “Why, I’d like an explanation for why you’re so breathless, my dear.”

He pulls on the hem of your robe, pulling it from the tight wrap around your body. Your hands shoot to fix it before it could fall open completely.

“I-I’m breathless?” You pant, trying to play it off.

You were distracted with how your clit dragged against his pants with every bounce of his leg.

He laughs softly, hand sliding up your body again. “Do you take me for an idiot, dear?”

“No.” You whisper, shame filling you as you realize Alastor knew exactly what you had been doing. “Listen Al, I’m-”

You’re cut off as he pulls the sash free from your robe, letting it fall open completely. His leg stills in it’s bouncing again as he pulls the robe from your shoulders. You shiver as the cold air of his room blows over your body, your nipples hardening in an instant. In a moment you’re completely naked on his lap.

“Oh, I see. No panties, no wonder you’ve managed to soak through my pants.” He muses.

You weren’t certain your face could get any hotter with how embarrassed you were. “Alastor…”

You were certainly aroused, that was for certain, and he knew it. He presses a kiss against your neck, before pulling away to resume reading his book.

“Well?” He prompts, hand brushing against your naked skin, “Keep going.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “Alastor?” You exclaim, not sure if you heard him right.

“That is my name dear, don’t wear it out.” He teases, acknowledging your repeated usage of his name.  “Now, as I said before, keep going. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

You had heard him right after all.

You take a moment to collect yourself, to accept that he was allowing you to continue getting off against his leg. You begin to slowly grind against his thigh. You drag your clit against his pant leg, breath hitching with every pass. There was certainly a thrill that came from the fact that Alastor was completely clothed, reading his book, while you sat naked on his thigh, grinding down wantonly against him. He turned to the next page, his hand returning to rest on your thigh. After a few moments of grinding against him, watching him read, it began to annoy you that he was so focused on his book. You begin to move faster, trying to draw his attention to you. You let yourself gasp and moan, no longer holding back, as you attempt to draw his attention.

“Oh, Al!” You whimper, grinding down against his thigh faster as the coil of pleasure builds in your gut. “I’m so close.”

He turns to the next page of his book much to your increasing annoyance. You were so close to your release and yet it seemed so far without his attention, without him responding to you. You turn your body slightly, pressing kisses against his cheek. You pepper them down his jaw and to his neck, your breathing harsh. Despite all your attempts to pull his attention to you, he continues to read his damned book.

“Alastor,” You moan, nipping at his shoulder. “Please…. Please, please, please.”

He turns the page again, his attention never once wavering despite him responding, “Yes, my dear?”

“Fuck!” You curse, frustration building as your orgasm eludes you. “I need you to look at me. Please, just look at me.”

He doesn’t. “I’m reading, little doe.”

“And I can’t cum without you looking at me!” You whine, so close to the edge, and yet so far.

“That is a problem, isn’t it?” he laughs, turning to the next page.

You were pretty sure he hadn’t actually read both of those pages before turning to the next.

“Gah! Are you even reading? That’s the second page turn in a matter of moments.” You complain, frustrated, as you continue to grind against him.

Alastor suddenly snaps the book shut, “Well I was trying to read, my dear. But you are being rather insistent, you know?”

He sets his book onto the small side table next to you both, his eyes trailing down your body.

“Well, you have my attention, my little doe.” He leans into your ear, his breath hot as he whispers, “Going to cum for me now?”

Your hips stutter, a thrill running through you at his low tone of voice. He presses kisses to your neck, eyes watching you grind faster against his leg.

“Cum for me, dear.” He rasps.

You squeeze your eyes shut, rolling your hips forward as you jerk and spasm, your release finally washing over you. His pant leg dampens further as you cum against him. Your orgasm leaves you panting, your chest heaving with each breath. Slowly you settle down, resting your head against Alastor’s chest as you catch your breath. You meet his amused gaze as he looks down at you.

“What?” You breathe out.

“Oh,” He responds brightly, “I’m just amused that you think you’re done.” His voice drops dangerously low,  “You had your turn, my dear, but now it’s mine.”

[petrichor-poet]

I wasn't made for flings or situationships. I was made for falling head over heels in love with someone who loves me.

[aringofsalt]

some highlights from buck's instagram ft. tommy, maddie, and the 118

911 social media series 🚨

[zepskies]

Touch Me

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-size!Reader

Summary: Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.

AN: I had the Midnight Espresso series in mind for this, since it plays on a recurring theme in that series (how the reader expresses herself), but it can be general Dean x Plus-size!Reader as well!

(In the Espresso-verse, it would take place just a few months after the first story.)

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for smuttishness. Established relationship, hint of body insecurity, but mostly fluff and feels.

It takes him a while to get used to it, the way you touch him.

Even before you two started dating, you were like this.

You’re an expressive person by nature, always talking with your hands, full body animated when you tell stories. Sometimes you’d grab his wrist playfully, or brush your hand along his back when you pass by. Or you’d grab his shoulder to steady yourself and lean into him when you had too much to drink. 

Dean liked it���all of it. In fact, he found it endearing as hell. That hasn’t changed, even after a few months of trying to figure out what this is. What you two are together, and what you could be.

It’s just that…his family wasn’t so touchy feely growing up. Hell, he can probably count on one hand how many times he hugged his dad. For Sam, maybe two hands.

Your hands are warm, even when they startle Dean a bit while he’s working on detailing his Baby. He sits on a stool low enough for him to get the grit and gravel out of the front right tire.

He jumps when he feels something slide across his shoulders and down his chest, but he chuckles, feeling you press into him comfortably from behind. Your breasts feel like a (sexy) pillow.

“You oughta wear a bell or something,” he remarks, even though he squeezes your arm in greeting, leaving a grease stain in his wake. Your smile presses against his cheek.

“Then how would I get the privilege of scaring the mighty Dean Winchester?” you tease.

He snorts in response. “You just surprised me. A little.”

“Mhmm,” you reply, beginning to lay a path of kisses along his jaw. “Need any help here?”

He takes a deep breath at your ministrations, smiling. “Got a feeling you just came to distract me.”

“Hmm, yeah,” you admit. Your lips wander down his neck, grazing the shell of his ear along the way. Pleasure laces down his spine.

“You know, I think we have yet to christen Baby’s backseat…” You tilt your head, chewing your lip. “Although, I wouldn’t dare imagine how many christenings have come before me.”

Dean chuckles again, but he turns to look at you over his shoulder with more than just desire in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’ll be the one that matters,” he says.

You pause, looking down at him like you’re trying to figure out if he means it or not. And he does.  

After a moment, you smile. Dean swivels on his stool and tugs you down to tumble onto his lap, into his waiting arms. You yelp in surprise, but you laugh into his neck when he pulls you flush against him by your jean-clad ass and thigh. He’ll happily get a handful of either one.

You make yourself comfortable on his lap and take his face into your hands. They're gentle, despite what they can do with a Beretta 92.

“I like this,” you admit softly. “You and me.”

Dean quirks a smile. “I’d say it’s an improvement.”

This time when he steals a proper kiss, you’re left without a smartass retort.

Even Sam notices.

The first time he does, you’ve just cooked dinner for them on a slow day. When Dean takes in the spread of pork roast with his eyes, he grins up at you with a heartfelt:

“Thanks, sweetheart," he says. "Looks awesome. Smells even better.”

You brighten with a smile. You answer him by reaching out to cup his cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to the other. You stroke your thumb across his prickly stubble, and let your hand slip down his neck and shoulder on your way back to the kitchen for the bread.

Sam watches the way his brother is a bit surprised by the contact, blinking as his gaze follows you to the kitchen. Dean smiles to himself.

Sam's lips twitch upwards as well.

Is he actually blushing? he wonders.

Dean catches him staring. He raises his brows, clearing his throat.

“What?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head and sips at his beer.

“Nothing.”

After that, Sam starts to pick up on the other little moments, like the way you sit close to Dean while researching during a hunt, your arm or your thigh brushing his. And the way you run your fingers through his hair while watching a movie together, or raise his arm so you can curl yourself up against him on his corner of the couch, threading your fingers together afterwards.

Sam shoots his brother a secret smile of amusement for that one. Dean chooses to ignore him and puts on Porky’s II on the big screen projector with the remote.

You fall asleep about halfway through the movie. Granted, you guys just got back from a long hunt, and you’re all pretty wiped. You’re just the one who succumbed first. From his side of the couch, Sam reaches for a throw blanket you bought for them and helps Dean lay it over you.

Dean happens to meet his brother’s gaze, and Sam smiles.

“Things seem to be going well for you guys,” he says quietly, so he doesn’t wake you.

Out of habit, Dean downplays with a shrug and a noncommittal sound. He brushes your hair back from your forehead, and he makes sure you’re covered up to your shoulders with the blanket. Finally, he rests his arm around your waist and shifts his attention back to the movie.

That’s when Sam knows the truth. His brother’s actions have always spoken louder than his words.

You haven’t officially moved into the bunker just yet.

Dean hasn’t brought it up, since everything between you two is so new. You’re here more often than not though, sharing his bed, making rich espresso out of your little coffee press for him and Sam in the morning, helping them even more with hunts that crop up.

Dean’s still getting used to sharing said bed. Mainly because you’re a cuddler, even after a couple of hot and sweaty rounds between the sheets.

“Ah, heeey,” he says awkwardly, when you snuggle yourself up to his side. You’ve just finished cleaning up in the bathroom and going through your twenty-something mysterious bottles of night creams.

You smell good, he can’t deny. It’s that enticing combination of lavender soap and coconutty shampoo. It infiltrates his nose as you sigh and settle your head against his chest. He curls an arm around you on reflex.

But your hair is tickling his neck and shoulder, sweat is trying to cool on his skin, and there’s plenty of room on your side of the bed. 

“G’night,” you murmur drowsily and lay a kiss to his bare chest, over his anti-possession tattoo.

“Night,” he replies, with a wan smile as he stares up at the ceiling. He goes over the options in his head. One, he can wait until you’re asleep and try to gently roll you onto your side. Two, he can just lay here and deal, even though his neck is itchy, and some uncomfortable sweat is pooling down his lower back.

Or Option Three, he can just ask you if you mind rolling back onto your side. 

After a few beats to think, he quickly concludes that Option Three is not an option.

Instead, he goes for trying to be slick. He waits until he hears your breathing even out into slumber. When he thinks you’re conked out for sure, he slowly, slowly uses his arm curled around your shoulders to roll you over, back onto the left side of the bed.

There are a couple times where he pauses, worried you’re about to wake up. You just hum and sigh in your sleep. Dean's lips purse, and he continues his mission.

When he’s successfully shifted you onto your other side, he expels a small breath of relief. Now, here’s the hard part: taking back his arm.

He goes as slow as he can while sliding his arm out from where it’s trapped underneath your soft body. Part of him feels a little guilty for what he’s doing, but he’s in too deep now.

Almost there…

Your breathing hitches, and stills. So does he.

“Dean,” you say quietly.

Shit.

He looks down, biting the corner of his lip. He’s been had.

“Yeah,” he reluctantly replies.

You turn around and raise yourself up to free his arm. You sigh through your nose, finding his sheepish expression in the dim room.

“Sorry. Was I cutting off your circulation or something?” you attempt to joke.

It seems innocent on the surface, but you’ve made those kinds of self-deprecating remarks before—about your body, your voluptuous ass, hips, thighs, and perfect tits that Dean’s spent the past few months mapping every square inch of.

He frowns. 

“No,” he says. “I, uh…was getting hot. Just wanted a little space, that’s all.”

Your face falls further, no matter how much you try to hide it. A small, proverbial oyster knife twists in his gut.

“Look, if…if you want your bed to yourself, I get it. Less room to go around,” you chuckle, again with that self-deprecating humor. It doesn’t reach your eyes. “I can find my old guest room—”

Dean’s brows furrow along with his frown. He reaches out and grabs your arm before you can even start to get up.

“Hey, stop. Sweetheart, that’s not what I said.” He tugs you back over by your hand. He raises his brows to level with you, conspiringly. “Truth is, I’ve got sweat heading toward the crack of my ass.”

Your face freezes, and then it breaks, spluttering with laughter. Dean smiles, even though he’s also a bit embarrassed.

“You literally got me hot and bothered,” he says, with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “I just need a little cool down. Else I might just wake you up for Round 3.”

You stare back at him in amusement now, tinged with affection. However, the longer your thumb brushes over his knuckles, the more that insecurity starts to creep back into your gaze. 

“You’ll let me know if I’m overstaying my welcome, right?” you ask. “I want to keep exploring…well, us, but I don’t want to smother you either.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You got all that from me telling you I want to fuck you later?”

You dissolve into laughter again, shoving at his chest. He’s known you long enough to figure out what you need though. He grabs your offending hand and pulls you in. Then he rolls you onto your back and traps you underneath his broad frame.

“You’re not going any-damn-where. Not if I can help it,” he says, his voice deepening to a timbre that makes a shiver run down your spine.

You look up at him, your eyes shining through your lashes with desire, and deeper things too. Things that just about make him putty in your hands, whenever you touch him.

So he touches you. He cups your cheek, traces your jawline with his thumb. The pad of it smooths across your full lower lip as you smile softly, and he realizes then just how far this could go for him. He knows it’s the real deal.

That knowing warms him further and makes his stomach churn at the same time. He’s reminded of the warning he gave you before you two started dating.

“I attract a lot of crap in my life,” he admitted. “Shit you want no part of.”

You grabbed onto the lapels of his plaid shirt and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Well, that’s a stupid reason,” you said. 

“It’s really not,” Dean shook his head. “Truth be told…I’m no good for you either.”

You hadn’t given a shit about all that. He’s been trying to figure out why you took a chance on him ever since…but he knows his reasons.

Even though he still believes everything he said back then, it doesn’t change much of anything.

He’s in too deep.

He dips down and claims your lips. You kiss him back with the same fervor, sliding your hands around his back, feeling every smooth dip of muscle between his shoulders.

“Round 3?” you playfully ask, between kisses.

Dean grips one of your thick thighs and spreads your legs for him, so he can grind his hips into yours, pressing his risen length against your heated core through your panties. He earns your moan in response, and he swallows it up with a more devouring kiss. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting for breath, already squeezing on him with your thighs around his hips.

He breaks, just for a second. He gives you a cheeky grin.

“Try to keep up.”

AN: Yep, Dean tried to pull a Ross Gellar. 🤣 (AKA: the "Hug and Roll.")

I don't know why this little idea wouldn't leave me alone! I guess I just like the thought of Dean having to get used to being doted on, even through something as small as being touched affectionately. Not just during sexy times. 💖

(Also, if you've read Midnight Espresso, you'll probably notice a little excerpt from there included here.)

Anyway, I hope you liked this! Let me know what you thought. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next in the Espresso-verse is Devour Me:

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for.

▶️ Next Story: Devour Me (Part 1)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[moo-blogging]

Nothing in my head but leaving a hickey on Captain Levi's neck and receiving a warning letter from the Commander Erwin for "damaging government property".

You were newly married, and Levi and you had a wonderful honeymoon at a far away cabin nearby natural hot spirng spas. On the last day of your honeymoon, you left an obvious hickey on Levi's neck.

"Taken." You pulled away and admired your work of art.

Levi kissed your forehead, "happily" he purred.

The next day, you got back to the military camp together, walking hand in hand until you were spilt into your respective groups. Levi was to catch up with Erwin and Hange first thing, while you had to train the new cadets.

During your maneuver gear training, Miche called for you. You landed right beside him and he passed you an envelope. "From Commander Erwin," he nodded and left.

Puzzled, you tore the envelope apart and opened the letter. A huge "Warning: Damaged Government Property" greeted you. Confused, you continued reading:

"Warning: Damanged Government Property.

We are to inform you that Captain Levi Ackerman is a valuable property to the government as well as the entire humanity. Upon finding a hickey on his neck this morning, we strongly believe that it was your doing given that you had spent a lengthy period of time out of the military base alone with the Captain.

This hickey has caused Captain Levi to daydream and smile to himself during serious meetings with his superiors. A lot of attention has been drawn to Captain Levi as well, affecting the efficiency of the meetings and future events.

Please refrain from damaging such a valuable property. We understand that sometimes things get out of hand. Kindly report yourself to the medical unit to check if you have been damaged by Captain Levi as you are also a valuable asset to the government and humanity.

Blessings on your marriage,

Erwin.

P/s: really Y/n, no more hickeys on visible places. Levi is feeling extra proud when people stare at his neck. He even forgave the cadet who messed up his tea."

You grinned to yourself stupidly as you thought of the night before.

"Ermmm, Team Led Y/n? A little help please..." poor Armin was hanging upside down as he called for you.

[chericos]

f!reader ; nsfw

just thinking about Satoru! and his sweet little baker gf.

Satoru!, who gets back from a hard, long day at work to see you all dolled up in his favorite pink apron set that hugs your body in a way that drives him crazy.

Satoru!, who walks up to wrap his hands around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how sexy you look all dressed up for him.

Satoru!, who distracts you by pressing featherlight kisses to the back of your neck. His rough, large hands snaking their way down to grab at your ass.

thinking about how Satoru! would try to help clean your frosting-covered fingers by shoving them in his mouth, innocently staring into your eyes while tentatively licking the sugary sweet buttercream off.

Satoru!, who can't seem to get enough of you and ends up pushing you against the kitchen counter, bunching up the ends of your apron to your thighs.

Satoru!, who’s so painfully strained in the confides of his slacks, bulge pressing up against the buckle of his belt as he try’s his best to adjust without rousing suspicion.

Satoru!, who can’t help but rut against you as you sweetly promise to take care of the little(HUGE) problem he’s having.

Satoru!, who moans so loudly at the slight friction to the point he has to shove his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the pornographic whines he lets out.

Satoru!, who claws and mewls at you to come with him to the bedroom. promising you a good time.

and who are you to decline?

Satoru! and his baker gf, who both forget about the cupcakes in the oven.

“Do you smell something burning?" “oh my god, MY CUPCAKES!”

a/n ; there is nothing you can say that will make me NOT think gojo is needy, desperate, and whiney

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagarise my works