#a bitch is thirsty okay

[actuallycassidyiambusy]

Yes, hi, hello umm...

Ren Gill's canines and neck veins

.....that's all

[katyspersonal]

When a character has covered eyes in any way but lower side of the face is visible (and especially if they are smiling), it sparks SO much yearning in me. Nothing against eyes (what a BB fan thing to say xD), but this is just... so appealing? Basically if Bloody Crow and Annalise only had upper side of their faces covered, I'd simp. If Micolash had his eyes covered? There would be no survivors

[ruiner-of-days]

Why is my mom such a bitch

[micamone]

also every now and then these days I'll straight up think I'm dying or something and it turns out I'm just hungry

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[syd-djarin]

nut vid with the sound on

frankie "catfish" morales x f!reader

You accidently send Frankie a text that he wasn't supposed to see.

~1.5k words

tags: EXPLICIT, accidently sending a screenshot meant for someone else, reader is feral (she just like me), sexting, mention of light choking, virtual mutual masturbation (m & f!), flirting, Frankie is a consent king!, dirtyyyy talk, voice notes, nudes, nut vid with the sound on, they're so horny for each other

this is my first Frankie fic and I've been thoroughly enjoying myself in the Catfish Pond ;) I hope y'all like the text format, I had fun writing it like this. special shoutout to my babe @almostempty !!! she matches my freak, feeds my delusions & sparks my horny thots. thank you for cheering me on and helping with the dialogue I love you LOTS <3333

consulted this page for spanish used :)

translations:

princesa - princess

tócame - touch me

que cosa/cosita mas linda - what a pretty/pretty little thing

mierda - shit

ay dios - oh god

hazme el amor - make love to me

banners by: @cafekitsune <3

smut below the cut, y'all know the drill!

Frankie: You coming tomorrow? 

You: Yes, of course :) 

Frankie: Good. 

Bestie: bitch if you don’t make a move on fish

Bestie: It’s been months!!! Find out why they call him Catfish ;) 

You: STOPPPP 

You: you’re right tho I am dying to know

You: Wanna suck his dick til the skin falls OFF 

You caption the screenshot of Frankie’s latest Instagram post and text it to your bestie who will appreciate your level of freakiness. 

You continue your scrolling. 

*ding* 

Frankie: I don't think this message was meant for me, princesa.  

Opening his text, you realize to your horror that you sent your thirsty thoughts TO Frankie. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuck!

You: shit, I’m SO so so incredibly sorry! Totally inappropriate and not cool. I definitely meant to send that to someone else. Totally exiling myself from the group. 

Frankie: You meant to tell someone else that you wanna suck my dick til the skin falls off? 

You: It wasn’t for you. Please forget you saw it. Please Frankie :( 

Frankie: hell of a thing to send to someone. how am I supposed to forget the idea now?

You: Pretend. It was a mistake. 

Frankie: a mistake? as in, you didn’t mean it? 

You: Can we drop it? 

Frankie: seemed pretty specific for a mistake. you got freaky with it

You: It doesn’t matter. It was stupid. Please let it go 

Frankie: I don’t think I can, princesa

Frankie: not after imagining it 

Frankie: You sent a whole screenshot, with a colorful caption attached. That's intentional.

If you weren’t so humiliated, you’d be giggling and kicking your feet in the air that he is calling you princess, but you can only assume he is being patronizing. 

You: This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Frankie: Not too embarrassed to keep texting though…

You: Frankie don’t 

Frankie: You really think about me like that? 

You: I think you already know the answer to that

Frankie: I do, but I wanted to hear it from you. This time directly to me

Frankie: I think about you 

Frankie: All the time

You: Frankie, please. 

You: I already feel terrible 

Frankie: Never thought you’d see me like that. Now you’re telling me you’ve been thinking about my cock? and you want me to drop it? 

You: Please don’t fuck with me. I’m already mortified beyond belief like I can’t show my face around here anymore!! I’m sorry I sent it okay? 

You: I’ll skip the kickback if it's going to be too weird now. 

Frankie: Wouldn’t be the same without you there. I’d never tell you not to come. 

Frankie: If you really want me to drop it, I will. just say the word 

Frankie: but you should know

Frankie: I think you’re gorgeous, hilarious, too fucking smart to be hanging out with us  

Frankie: I lose my mind goddamn mind when I’m near you 

Frankie: and knowing you’ve been thinking about me too has me hard as a fucking rock 

You: Do you really mean that? 

Frankie: Yes I do, baby. You have no idea what you do to me 

You: Yeah? I might need some enlightenment. 

There’s a pause. You brace for impact; that he is really pulling your leg and he and the guys are doubled over laughing at your expense. 

Frankie: Might be better if you hear it straight from the Fish’s mouth

Frankie: Get it? Like horse’s mouth but it’s a fish instead 

You: I hate to admit I did one of those huff exhales that you do when something is amusing but not quite funny enough to warrant a full laugh

Frankie: At least you smiled. That’s good enough for me

Frankie: Sending a voice note, is that okay? 

You: Of course

Then the notification for a voice memo appears. Your fingers hover over the screen before you press play and Frankie’s low, gravelly voice spills into your ears. 

“Bebita, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this. I’ve been yours since I first laid eyes on you…You’ve got me sitting here in my truck, trying to keep my shit together, but all I can think about is you on your knees for me. Told the guys I had to take a call… they’d give me shit right now if they knew… they’ve been ribbing me for months to ask you out but I was too chicken shit… way too pretty for me… definitely funnier and smarter than me, but you should know I’m not intimidated by that it's fucking hot… Fuck you’d look so good for me. I’d slide my cock into your mouth so slow, watch your lips stretch around me. You have the prettiest eyes and lips, you’d be heaven down on your knees for me…Shit, I’d lose my mind watching you take it. You’d look so pretty with your mouth full of me, baby. So fucking pretty.” 

Frankie: Are you touching yourself? Tell me, pretty girl 

You: And if I was?

Frankie: Good girl 

Frankie: What are you thinking? How do you feel?

You: So so good, Frankie

You: Thinking about your big strong hands all over me has me drooling baby

Another voice memo appears. When you press play, there’s a groan—a low, throaty sound that makes your entire body shiver. 

“You been thinking about my hands, princesa? Want me to hold those pretty tits with my hands, hmmm? Play with your nipples, massage them…maybe you’d like one of my hands gently pressing into the sides of your throat… if you’re into it of course!” 

Frankie’s urgency to make sure you’re into that sort of thing makes you smile. The caring, thoughtful Frankie that you know. 

“I am so hard for you– ay dios!…Thinking about you sitting on my face, trapped underneath your gorgeous thighs… make you come all over my face. Need you to make a mess on me… rub your pretty little clit on my nose, that’s why I have this big nose… so you can use it fuuuuuuuck…”

His voice grows rougher, more ragged. You can hear the slick, clapping sounds and his breathing. Heavy and uneven. 

“Mierda, I’m so fucking close, wish you were here baby–unghhhhh… wanna feel you around me, your pussy squeezin’ my cock… make you come ‘til you’re begging me to stop… do whatever you ask me to…”

You: Show me. I want to see Frankie, please 

Frankie: Wanna hear you say it in your pretty voice 

Frankie: Let me hear you beg all sweet like for me and I’ll show you what you do to me 

You: “Frankie ohhhhh baby I need you so bad… tócame, Frankie, por favor…Always think about climbing in your lap, running my hands through those— ahhhhhh!— curls, wanna feel how deep you get when I ride you… wanna feel you in my goddamn throat — fuck, can you hear how wet I am? I’m making such a mess oh my godddddd… never been this fucking wet baby…”

Frankie: babygirl you’re gonna be the death of me

Frankie: love your voice and the pretty sounds your pussy is making for me 

You: can I send a video? 

Frankie: no pressure. only if you’re comfortable with it 😘

You: that’s not what I asked, Francisco

Frankie: I know you mean business when you use my government name 

Frankie: yeah baby i wanna see whatever you wanna show me 

You: Attachment: 1 Video 

“Hazme el amor, Frankie…” 

Your legs are spread open, your core on display for the camera. He smiles thinking you probably had to find something to prop your phone on. You’ve got two fingers teasing in and out of your glistening pussy.

Frankie: que cosa cosita más linda 

Frankie: You have the prettiest, messiest little pussy baby. Thank you for showing me. I can’t wait to taste her

Frankie: As promised, you want something in return for being such a good girl for me? 

You: yes please 😇

Frankie: sound up 😘

Attachment: 1 Video 

“Fuuuuuuck babygirl… see what you do to me… need to be close to you, need to feel you… make you feel good like you deserve… this is all for you, I am all for you baby…”

Frankie has his cock pulled out of his unzipped jeans, still in his truck, pumping himself. You admire the size and girth of him, so thick and gorgeous. You know the sting and stretch of him entering you for the first time will be delicious. It’s so hot knowing he had to slip away from the guy's night to relieve himself—couldn’t even wait til he got home. 

“Been dreaming of you for months, always imagine you when I’m touching myself, you’re in all my thoughts baby… mierda I’m gonna come, fuck baby—unghhhhhh— gonna come so hard for you — ohhhhhhhh fuck…” 

Thick ropes of cum drip down his hand, where he’s slowly riding out his high, breath heaving in exhaustion. 

You: I think I just blacked out 

You: I came so hard watching you fuck

Frankie: Such a good girl, baby. You did so good making yourself come 

Frankie: Drink some water 😘

You: Thank you Frankie :) 🩷

You: chugging some water as we speak🫡 

Frankie: that’s my girl 

Frankie: get some sleep, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow 😘😘

BONUS: frankie's insta

tagging babes who might enjoy: @katiexpunk @evolnoomym @studioghibelli @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @sanarsi @tightjeansjavi @milly-louise <3333

@pedrostories

[luvologyy]

Daisuke relationship headcanonsᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

NSFW/SFW SO MDNII TY!

Daisuke x f!reader ᵔᴗᵔ.ᐟ

It can take place on earth or on the tulpar.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated 💗

· · ──꒰ঌ·🌺·໒꒱ ── · ·

SFW HEADCANONS

★ He never stops trying to impress you. he even fails and embarrasses himself. yet it’s okay. You think it’s cute

★ he always craves you, not even just sexually but physically, too. Just your smell, your vibe, your company. Just you.

★ hates seeing you sad, angry, etc. He thinks he mightve done something to make you feel that way. So he does everything in his power to get you out of it.

"Hey baby, I got you a drink from the kitchen!"

"Thank you, I'm not thirsty, though.." He heard the tone on your voice and knew something was wrong, it was blunt but still soft and welcoming.

"Are you okay??" Daisuke asked

You just shrug your shoulders not saying anything.

Daisuke sitting beside you and wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzling against your hair. "It's okay, Mama, I gotchu."

★ such a cuddle bug, like my baby loves being touched and touching you.

★ this boy is soo clingy. He's always following you, holding on to your hand or sleeve.

★ loves hugs, every time you're at the counter or a table, he always walks behind you and hugs you from behind. HE WONT LET GO AFTER THAT.

★ he accidently called you mama/mommy when you guys were cuddling. HE WAS EMBARRASSED.

"Make sure you get your daily tasks done later, though, okay?"

"Okay, Mama.." He grumbled tiredly, his face nuzzling into your neck.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you." You chuckled, pulling his face away

"NO NOO IM SORRY I CALLED YOU THAT I-" he was a rambling mess, embarrassed you caught him calling you mama.

"No, no! It's okay, sweet boy. I don't mind it, you can call me it whenever."

★ You guys are the sun x moon dynamic fr

★ you'd always let him babble away about his day or whatever he'd talk about, and he noticed how you'd genuinely listen and was interested on what he'd talk about. It made him giddy and happy.

★ always convinces you to do dumb shit with him, and if you’re already naturally a reckless person you’d just add to his fire. But if you're more mature than him, you'd try to talk him out of his reckless behaviors.

★ says “again” or “one more, mama” after kissing you (you always giggle and grant his wish ofc)

★ He'll get competitive with you just for fun. He'll make up races and let you win because he loves seeing you smile

★ whenever yall cuddle HE SNORESS. But doesn't snore super loudly like Swansea

★ He likes it when you brush his hair and style it. BUT HE ALSO HATES IT. He'd complain how you're too rough and how tangled his hair is.

★ Always gives you cheek kisses everytime you guys hug or cuddle.

★ He's REALLY STINGY WITH HIS FOOD, but he'll always share with you.

★ this boy thinks you're an absolute goddess. Every time you wear new outfits and show him, his eyes turn into literal hearts.

★ he gets so giddy when you pepper small kisses all over his face, especially if you wear lipstick and kiss him.

NSFW HEADCANONS!

★ He's such a chatter box when he's in bed, especially when he's about to release or when being edged.

★ He's into praise and a little degration. But nothing too crazy like "bitch". Just being called a slutty boy gets his gears grinding..

★ dudes got a mommy kink. No questions asked.

★ pleaseee sit on his face. He loves it. He'll let you sit on his face for hours.

★ HES A MUNCH. He'll tie his hair up every time he eats it. He genuinely thinks you taste so good. He'll even accidently overstimulate you without realizing it.

★ He's such a whiney boy when he's being edged or overstimulated. Whimpering and crying begging to cum.

"F-ffuckk, mommy, I don't think I can take it .."

"Can i please cum, pleasee mommy I've been a good boy!"

"Your hands feel so soo good mommy.."

★ Daisuke loves cowgirl and missionary, but mostly cowgirl. being able to look you in the eye as you take control. His hands gently holding your hips as you bounce on his cock. Mesmerized by your tits in his face and the sounds leaving your lips.

★ absolutely adores your body. He loves how soft and squishy it is, especially your thighs and tits.

★ He loves doing the finger + tongue combo..

"You taste so good mommy.. so good."

"I can feel you getting closer mommy."

"Please cum for me mommy, please cum for your good slutty boy!"

★ he literslly begs you to cum, his pleasure is your pleasure. So eager to please you.

★ Daisuke is so Eagar and messy. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. Lapping at your folds and slurping on your slick. Daisuke will stay there until you force him to breathe, showing off his face with your slick dripping down his chin.

★ He doesn't get to fuck you a lot in missionary or just straight up at all, mostly eatting you out or you jerking him off. So when you allowed him to fuck you in missionary he was so giddy and excited.

★ daisuke was a total virgin. Yeah, he might've gotten a hand job in high school, but he had no actual experience. Until he met youuu.

"Fffuckkk, mommy, you're so tight! Mmmhh..."

"Your pussy feels soo gooddd.."

"T-thank you for letting.. me cum mami.."

★ doesn’t really like quickies. He'd rather take his time with you. Having it being nice, romantic, and slow. His way to goo

★ This baby loves to take care of you and being able to spoil you, but he’s gonna be a bit clumsy. Stuttering and second-guessing himself. Also, please remember Daisuke NEEDS aftercare himself. Sex is new to him, especially if he's a virgin. he’s gonna need some reassurance afterward.

★ He's so eager to do anything you say, if you want him to lay down, he'll do it. If you want him to be on his knees for you. HE'LL DO ITT

★ God when you sit on his face and you start to slowly grind on him, his hands having a firm grip on your thighs. you can practically hear him moaning in your pussy, “mmm so good" or "more mommy I want more.." UGH

Sorry guys, this is so rushed, and it SUCKKS.

[darknessisafriend]

Commodus Masterlist

I see you all are thirsty for our Emperor Commodus lately so I made a masterlist just for you ! (if you are interested by other characters here's the link of my full masterlist! )

SFW:

Let’s just stay here a little while,  You are feeling down lately, thankfully, your husband Commodus is there for you.

Pampering Commodus, after a hard day the Emperor needs to relax and be pampered. Fluff

Queen or thief of my heart?,  The reader is poor and is mistaken for stealing from a street vendor, and she is brought before Emperor Commodus to be killed but upon seeing her, he recognizes her as a childhood friend of his…will he save her life as a token of the past?

Periods, you have your periods for the first time with your husband Commodus, you are ashamed but he comforts you in that tough time of the month.

Your attitude may hurt me, but mine can kill you, quote challenge, Commodus is having another paranoia episode. 

You should kneel to your Empress,  Commodus’ Empress is mixed race and she overhears people at the palace making remarks about her and her family even though without her, they wouldn’t have trade or peaceful relations with a prominent tribe in Africa. Commodus hears it and defends her.

The virtues of an Emperor,  this follows the moment when Commodus learns he won’t be Emperor, but it takes a slightly different turn, he is not alone this time.

Elysium, Commodus comforts you after one of your friends died

The light in my darkness, Commodus has always been afraid of the dark. 

Sleepless Slumber, Commodus suffers insomnia

I will feed on your hate, Commodus hears people criticizing and it hurts more than expected

My never ending loyalty, male reader, preatorian’s guard love story with his emperor on the Eve of the fight against Maximus. 

Everything will be okay, you lost someone dear to you, Commodus is by your side to help you through grief

MIX OF SFW AND NSFW

The world will be ours, part 1, part 2, part 3,  part 4, part 5, You are the heir of a kindgom  conquered by Rome. To strenghen its bound to the Empire, the Emperor has made an offer your family can’t refuse… you will marry his son Commodus, but you are scared of him and he doesn’t want to marry you, but Rome is hostile to Commodus reign, what will be your role in this, will you learn to love each other?

The world will be ours Sequel,  this fic follows the life of Commodus with you, you had two beautiful, children, he is finally happy and loved but then something terrible happens… Part 1, Part 2 

No one will oppose us, Commodus ends up crying during sex that leads to an early end, you comfort him and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over.

NSFW:

Anything for Caesar NSFW, rough sex smut one shot

Commodus the whore of the Empress NSFW, Imagine a parallel universe where Commodus falls from grace, you become Empress and he becomes your bitch (part 2 on my friend’s blog   Part 3 , Part 4

The One rule, you have disobeyed Commodus and he punishes you in the best and yet worst way. NSFW

If only Rome knew how much you sacrificed for them,  after the final fight against Maximus in the Colosseum, you find Commodus’ body among the corpses of those dead in the arena, he had been carelessly tossed there as if he was no one. He is alive, barely, you decide to save him. But what will happen if he survives? Will he claim back the throne? Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3, Chapter 4,  Epilogue

You are my Empire, one shot about Commodus being a sub in your relationship, smut and fluff.

The disappointing son, Commodus falls for a slave, prisonner of war. He doesn't care about social status, all he wants his drink and perhpas more, just llike you do.

The morning after, Commodus receives a visit from you, a very dear friend. You decide to celebrate your reunion after years, alcohol is flowing, leading to unexpected events.

HEADCANONS:

Vanity 

Quizzes

The melancholia of Commodus and your comfort

Celebrating Saturnalia/Christmas with Commodus

Commodus x Plus size reader

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Jealousy, Implied catcalling, Harassment, Cannibalism?? Implied Biting, Possessiveness

Description: Alastor realizing the price he pays for having a total fox as an S/O

LOOK

Alastor is happy to show you off, you're his delicious, tasty, mouth-watering babe of a partner

He likes seeing the envy on other's faces when you two are together, likes having you on his arm

Love love loves having your attention solely on him, ignoring the rest of them

He loves rubbing the fact that you're his and his alone in everyone's face, he practically dangles you in their drooling faces just to snatch you up for himself in front of them

What Alastor doesn't love is when people try to take you for themselves, or take your attention from him

Or when they make you uncomfortable/annoyed/sad/the list could keep going

You often were catcalled or sometimes even followed when you walked alone, thirsty demons drooling/hooting over you as you walked by

It's all Alastor can do not to simply just hunt down every single offender, knowing you can take care of yourself

But still

You only need to ask

He never really imagined anybody would make a move on you until it actually happens

He only stepped away for one moment and when he came back some idiot was already flirting with you

Like backed you up against a wall while trying to win you over kind of flirting

Saying filthy things that made Alastor's skin crawl when he pictured it

You looked bored and annoyed 😒 arms crossed defensively over your body(any extra limbs are also tucked in close)

You were hardly listening, perking up once you saw Alastor coming back, moving to meet him halfway

Alastor knows you're tough, knows you can take care of yourself, but when he sees them actually go to make a grab at you

Motherfucker-

Not him physically ripping the offender away from you

Not him using his power to hold them down while he punishes them for even thinking of touching you

Just when he's about finished he'll ask you what their real punishment should be, leaving their fate in your hands

He just wants to please his lil boo-thang

If you choose mercy then Alastor will simply toss them aside and loop his arm with yours, continuing your day as if nothing had happened

If you don't choose mercy then Alastor will gleefully devour them right in front of you if, not even hiding the fact that he's showing off his more monstrous form

Then it's right back to whatever you two were doing before

"No, don't kiss me until you wash your mouth out!"

Maybe is a little more...clingy...after realizing that others are drawn towards you just as he is

He love hates how attractive you are, almost whining about it at times when you two are alone

As if you even asked to look so fine

Can't you just...always stay in the hotel or something???? No????

Maybe wear a collar that says "Alastor" on it???

Um no bitch

Bby why

Let him give you bite marks and hickeys for everyone to see??? Just a few~ He'll be so gentle~ Won't taste your super tasty blood at all~

Okay maybe you two found a compromise

"Alastor w-wait~ Not there~"

Not him biting you in public to mark his territory

Your mans is FERAL

[thydungeongal]

What are some good RPGs that would say are good examples of being queer?

Sorry it took me a while to reply to this!

Anyway, my favorite capital Q Queer RPGs are Monsterhearts and Dungeon Bitches. Monsterhearts is the subtler of the two, being basically a game about playing a CW style teen drama with monsters that is basically a genre mashup of Vampire Diaries, Ginger Snaps, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Jennifer's Body. The queerness is very much textual but it's more so thematic and symbolic. The game's themes are queerness and adolescence and growing up, the vehicle it uses to explore those themes is monsters, because queer teens often get made to feel monstrous for having feelings and desires that fall outside of the norm.

Dungeon Bitches by @cavegirlpoems on the other hand is much more explicit about its queerness, in the sense that the queerness is also explicitly and unambiguously written into the fiction of the game. It is a game that is very much grounded in the dungeon-crawling genre of fantasy but that asks the question of "what kind of people would actually get into the dungeon-crawling life" and answers that with "people who are otherwise marginalized in so-called civilized society, especially queer women." It's very much a game that uses the dungeon crawling lifestyle to present a dialectic between the "safety" offered by the closet and normative society, and the precariousness and danger and the undeniable thrill of living as your true self. It's a game that is resonant to me not only as a fan of dungeon crawl type games but also as a trans woman making her first small steps towards transition. It's a fucked up game for fucked up dolls.

There are plenty of other queer games too, including Thirsty Sword Lesbians, Queerz, Girl by Moonlight, Dream Askew, and many many more. I think Thirsty Sword Lesbians is the most well-known and I do own it and at the end of the day it kind of leaves me cold. It feels like it's trying to play things a bit too safe and at the same time I feel its politics of identity are just messy.

Anyway, this is something I've been thinking of for a while, but since I've been thinking a lot about queer games not only in terms of "does it have the Gay" but also in terms of "does it thematically intersect with questions of queerness," I have to mention Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by @anim-ttrpgs.

So okay having been involved in the community surrounding Eureka for a while there is something about that game that appeals to LGBTQ folks, especially trans women. Now, Eureka has of course been written primarily from the point of view of disability: the main writer is disabled and the game makes it explicit that many of the supernatural elements, including the monster investigator types, are symbolic of the experiences of the disabled. But because the experiences of marginalized groups tend to intersect a lot, many queer folks also end up seeing themselves there. Vampires in Eureka are written very much from a Christian folkloric point of view so that many Christians may see them as inherently anathema even while they may still maintain their faith; something that many queer Christians may resonate with. Similarly, one of the monster types, the Thing from Beyond, is all about being an alien shape shifter trying to navigate a society that is ultimately scary and alien to them. There's also Living Dolls up in that thang!!!

There is more to Eureka that makes it appeal to many queer readers, but the main thing is this: it is written from a point of view that is ultimately empathetic of the "freaks" and outcasts. And while it does approach these topics from the point of view of disability, it is also very open to queer readings.

And this is sort of a source of gentle ribbing within the Eureka community: that the lead writer ends up writing stuff that resonates deeply with his friends and fans of the game, a significant number of whom happen to be trans women, and that this has to be pointed out to him constantly. It's really sweet and funny. (Fun anecdote: when I first came out as a trans woman he approached me in my DMs asking "So you're a chick now?" followed by a 👍 emoji.)

And I think that's a fun contrast. Many games that ultimately do not touch upon queerness in any meaningful way in their themes or gameplay will still get lauded as queer because they will use identity as a coat of paint or a part of their marketing. And at the same time someone writing candidly about their experiences of living with disability via metaphor may end up accidentally writing something that actually resonates with the lived experiences of queer people.

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

AJDSJKAKANANSJENENWJNNEHHRHASJDJFHDBBDHDHRHSBS REDSOUTFIT REDS OUTFIT REDS OUTFIT 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚💚❤️❤️AHEGHSJAKAKSBDHHDVDHSBSBSBSBHESHHSISS HIS OUTFIT AHEHSHSHRHDHRVGG HHHIIIII IIIHH IIEEEEHIIHIEEEEEEEE ❤️♥️♥️😍💚😭💚😍💚😍😍💚😍♥️😍💚😍💚😭♥️💚‼️‼️UEUEUEUEUEUEURUE MMFUCKINCRYIJGCBROOHWWHH🧘🧘🧘🧘🧘 ME SIT DOWN ME SIT 🧘🧘🧘🧘🧘

🍏 Art Trade with @jils-things 🍎

IT'S THE TWO YIPPEE!!! Thanks for trading with me bestie, they were both so fun to draw HEUAHEUWH

[sofreddie]

Line in the Sand

Summary: When Sam and Reader meet, he lays down a line, letting her know nothing would ever happen between them despite the deep connection that was felt. It doesn't take long for him to regret that decision.

Characters: Sam Winchester x F!Reader, Dean Winchester, Castiel

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst, Fluff, Hunting, Injury to Reader, Smut (Unprotected Sex)

WC: 6,809

A/N: Hey, all! I know it's been a million years since I've been posting. Life, ya know? Anywho, here's a fic I've been gradually working on for longer than I remember. It was supposed to be a little fic and grew into this (sorry, I'm so wordy). I'm really happy with how it came out in the end. Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated. : )

Sam gently laid Y/N in bed, tucking the sheets around her. She was spelled, her body immobile and looking as if she were merely asleep. Sam knew better, knew that she had been close to death's door.

Dean leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching Sam lean down to kiss her forehead. Then, he shifted his gaze away, feeling that the moment was too private to be witnessed.

Sam took one last look at Y/N before leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him. It seemed silly, but it helped him deal with it if he had imagined she was only sleeping.

“She’ll be okay,” Dean reassured his brother as they walked down the hall to the kitchen, “We killed the bitch and gave her the antidote. Should just take a few hours for the spell to wear off.”

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Sam growled, and Dean nodded in agreement, “She could have died!”

“She didn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other in silence, Dean calm, and Sam still too riled from the hunt and nearly losing her. Sam loved Y/N deeply and with all he had, and he knew she felt the same. Even if they never said it, they knew. But they both had reasons for not pursuing anything beyond their cherished friendship. Sam couldn’t help but feel the distance between them, and even her injury was, his fault.

Yes, there would always be the threat of their enemies pulling them apart. Yes, there would always be the threat of death hanging over them. And yes, falling in love again after losing so much and so many people was a debilitating concept. But after nearly losing her, Sam wasn’t sure any of those reasons mattered anymore.

They’re lucky they had the cure after saving another victim in the case. Otherwise…Sam ran a hand over his mouth, shaking his head as he thought again about nearly losing her.

“You should be there when she wakes up,” Dean offered, grabbing a couple of beers to return to his room for the night.

He knew Sam would eventually find his way to Y/N’s side. He hoped that if he had just put it out there, Sam would have skipped the pretense and brooding before inevitably finding himself at her side anyway.

Sam nodded, clutching the unopened beer bottle as he went down the Bunker hallway and to her room again. He was restless, eager for her to open her eyes and smile at him again. Until that happened, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He quietly entered her room, hoping she’d be awake, but his heart sank seeing her exactly as he left her. He closed the door quietly behind him. Walking over to the desk, he pulled out the wooden chair and turned it around to face Y/N. He set the beer aside, not thirsty anyway, and cradled his head in his hands.

–

“I can’t believe it’s you!”

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes as he and Dean left the abandoned house. The new hunter they’d met, Y/N, was as green as they come, trying to take on a haunting by herself. She’s lucky they showed up when they did, or else her first hunt might have been her last.

“I’ve heard so much about you from other hunters,” Y/N rattled on, tripping over aged debris as they exited the now ghost-free domicile. “I’m such a fan-” she continued, but Sam wasn’t listening.

He spun on her in a flash, his face showing his apparent ire and dislike of her, “You nearly got yourself killed in there. What the hell were you thinking?”

Y/N jumped in shock, her eyes flashing between the brothers as she tried to come up with a response, “Well, my family hunted for years, and I helped with research, but after they were gone, it was kind of my responsibility to take over, right?” she asked with a lopsided grin and shrug.

“It’s not unheard of,” Dean chimed in with a tight smile. Sam flashed him a bitchface, to which Dean raised his hands in defense and shut the hell up.

“You’re like, my heroes,” she added with a chipper demeanor.

Sam scowled harder as he saw the stars in her eyes and how she seemed to want to reach out and touch him. He could feel it, too, if he were being honest. A pull to her, a need to want to know her and keep her safe. She was beautiful and shapely, and unlike any other woman he knew. If they had met a few years before he’d become so angry and cynical, there might have been a chance. But the way his life was now and the way her happy eagerness grated on his nerves, it was best he shut that down from the start, for both their sakes.

He scoffed, taking a cocky and stern stance as he shook his head and lowered his voice, “It’s NEVER gonna happen, you hear me?”

Sam knew and could feel this odd connection between them. It seemed to pulse with a faint life all its own, and it was unnerving. He could see in her eyes the admiration and attraction she bore for him. Though it made him want, he rejected her.

Y/N hesitated only a moment, but it was long enough for her to crack, for the pain of his statement to be seen. She quickly recovered, the smile and upbeat attitude back in place in the blink of an eye, almost making Sam think he’d imagined it.

“Okay, Sam,” she grinned, waving farewell as she backed away to her car.

Sam’s heart sank as he watched her go; he was sad to see her leave and mad at himself for doing that in the first place. He chose to ignore Dean’s stern glare and unapproving stance. Dean let it go with a sigh, knowing it would come up again at some point.

–

Sam groaned, running a hand down his face at the memory of when they met. He couldn't stand himself and what he did to her, trying to push her away, even if it was for their own good. Now, however, his eyes landing on her still and quiet body in her bed, he regretted everything. She was his, and he was hers; their souls connected on a deeper level from the moment their eyes met.

He came so close to losing her and would never have been able to tell her the truth.

He sighed again, trying to stay calm while waiting for her to wake. He knew she would wake, but he was still nervous that maybe this was it, and she was lost to him. He only had himself to blame for his misery. 

Unbidden, his mind drifted back to the beginning, and he remembered how she became so engrained in their lives despite his attempts at distance.

-

"Fancy meeting you here," Y/N greeted as she walked out of the Sheriff's office, greeting the Winchesters as they arrived in the parking lot. She straightened her blazer, self-conscious and uncomfortable, but more than looking the part of the FBI for the case.

Sam scoffed, "Are you following us?"

Y/N glared back at him. "Looks like I was here first. Are you following me?"

"Cut the shit," Sam growled. "Every other case we go to, we run into you."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You're not the only hunters in the world, and you're certainly not the only ones with obligations and family ties to fulfill," she growled back. 

Dean couldn't stand the tension that seemed to grow between Y/N and his brother every time they saw each other. He liked Y/N. She was new but eager and had some skills and knowledge. With some training and guidance, she had great potential. 

"Why don't we work this one together?" Dean insisted, ignoring his brother's scowl as Y/N lit up. 

"Really?" she practically squealed in delight before giving Dean her motel and room number. 

He intended to follow her there, and they could discuss and work the case together. He was concerned about her hunting alone and hoped he could sort through whatever was going on with his brother regarding Y/N. 

-

The first hunt they worked together and the first grave injury she'd received. They had done research, but Sam had missed some key details. He was too focused on Y/N - her voice, body, giddiness, and eagerness to prove herself. And he was angry that she could have that effect on him and couldn't shake it no matter how hard he tried.

So when they went to the cabin in the woods to take out two werewolves - which Y/N was extremely nervous about - Sam missed the details that would have told him there were twice as many.

Y/N groaned and shifted before settling back into silent stillness. The hem of her shirt rid up, showing a sliver of skin along her stomach. Sam could just make out the shimmering silvery scars she was left with after nearly dying on the first case they all worked together.

Sam again blamed himself. She was associated with them, somehow connected to him, and the universe cursed him to lose anyone he grew close to. It only further settled his resolve to avoid her entirely. He planned to help her heal and then part ways, never to meet again at any cost. He was convinced it was the only way to keep her safe.

However, Dean, being Dean, thwarted Sam's plans entirely when he invited Y/N to stay at the Bunker with them while she healed. Sam had argued with Dean, insisting that once she was healed, she should leave.

But Dean had convinced him otherwise. Dean wanted to train, guide, and keep an eye on her. Dean explained that she would hunt regardless, so it would be better if they taught her and helped her out instead of leaving her to hunt alone. That thought made Sam sick to his stomach.

She'd been with them ever since.

Y/N stirred in her sleep again, the spell gradually wearing off a little at a time as she metabolized the cure. Sam breathed shakily, wondering if she'd even want to see him when she came to. He tried to keep her off this hunt. She had never hunted witches before, and Sam tried explaining just how awful they could be, but she wouldn't be deterred. They had argued, but in the end, it didn't matter because she went on the hunt, and despite his best efforts, Sam couldn't protect her in time from the witch.

He should get Dean to be here when she woke. They had a much easier relationship. Dean and Y/N quickly became good friends, having so much in common and getting along better than Sam had ever seen Dean with anyone. Since she came into their lives, Dean has always been smiling and laughing, and she has improved their lives positively. Dean took her under his wing like a sister, but Sam didn't always see it that way.

-

Sam grit his teeth, emptying the contents of his crystal glass and refilling it with the amber liquid and a heavy hand. He took a healthy sip and leaned back in his chair at the map table. Dean and Y/N sat across from him, drinking, chatting, and laughing like they had been most of the night. Sam wasn't even sure they remembered he was there. 

Y/N tapped out first, dismissing herself to bed. Sam barely grunted a response as she left, Dean bidding her goodnight, his eyes glued to her as she went. Once she disappeared, Dean dropped his head with a smile and chuckled. Sam couldn't stop glaring at his brother, and he couldn't stop the scoff he huffed.

"What's your deal?" Dean scoffed back, sipping at his glass. "You've been broody all night."

"Are you and Y/N a thing?" Sam asked, his glare steady as Dean's eyes widened. "You're always together and so friendly," Sam seethed accusingly.

He wasn't expecting Dean's uproarious laughter, which confused and angered him further.

"Holy shit," Dean laughed as he caught his breath, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "She's my friend, like a sister to me. We aren't a thing," Dean insisted with an amused grin. "Is that why you've been bitchy all night?" he continued to chuckle.

Sam glared, not amused. Dean finally let out a long breath, the laughter fading as he realized how bad Sam had gotten over Y/N.

"Sam, I know how it is between you two," Dean tried explaining. "I wouldn't knowingly take her away from you."

"She's not mine," Sam said, though the lie was blatant even to him.

"I think you're starting to regret that line in the sand," Dean shook his head, rising from the table before heading to his room. 

Sam knew his brother was right. He regretted the walls and distance he'd placed between Y/N and himself and was beginning to feel differently about the whole thing.

-

Sam rubbed his hands over his face, trying to remove the sleep from his eyes and mind. He stood from the chair only to turn it back around. He slumped and leaned back, his legs spread wide, reaching for the beer he hadn’t been interested in earlier. Taking a long swig, he relaxed in the chair, eyes focused on Y/N.

After that night, he tried to talk to Y/N, make a move, and remove the line between them. Based on how she acted when they met and how she was in general, he thought she would have jumped at the opportunity. Instead, she surprised him by rejecting his advances. Confused and hurt, Sam tried explaining that whatever reasons he had before weren't reasons anymore.

"I still have my reasons, Sam," she answered as she turned away from him.

Her rejection deeply hurt Sam, but he didn't blame her. He hadn't exactly been warm and welcoming to the idea of her or them. He figured she needed some time to come to terms with the fact that he did actually want something between them. He was also desperate to know her reasons, and then maybe he could do something about it.

Dean wouldn't tell him anything other than to try and take things slow and start small. Sam was more than frustrated with Dean's apparent lack of knowledge - he knew his brother was hiding something with how close they were - but he respected that Dean wouldn't betray her trust. So, Sam tried to start small and slow, but Y/N didn't seem interested in anything to do with him other than hunting.

Things between all three of them grew unbearably awkward.

Dean constantly felt torn between his brother and Y/N. He could never spend time with them together because the tension was so thick it choked the air. He didn't understand their connection, but he knew there was something, and he was frustrated with their denying and avoiding it. He wanted them together and happy, and the way they constantly stole glances and lingering looks when the other wasn't paying attention told him how much they wanted it, too. But he didn't know what to do that wouldn't upset or betray either of their trust in him.

But Sam did notice all the glances and looks. He knew Dean was aware but didn't care. Sam could see that Y/N looked at him often when she thought he wouldn't notice. Sometimes, she looked at him with stars in her eyes, sometimes with a heat so palpable that he felt its caress burn across his skin. Sam could tell that she was thinking about it. About what he said, about him, about them. Yet, she continued to deny them the chance.

Y/N's rejection began to affect him soul-deep in a way that concerned him enough to conduct research. After many hours and tons of books, he discovered the answer - they were soulmates. Of course, he ran to tell Dean to have someone to talk to about it. Dean insisted Sam should tell Y/N and finally face what it was between them. But Sam wasn't ready to tell her, and Dean was gravely disappointed.

Then came the hunt.

Sam groaned, slumping further into the chair and letting his head rest on the back, the now empty beer bottle resting atop his thigh. Why did he have to be such an asshole? He wasn't always so angry, suspicious, and cynical. There was a time - most of his life, actually - when he dreamed of something like this. A deep connection, a love that could survive his life. After nearly losing her, he had to tell her and attempt to convince her that they could try.

-

"Hey guys, I think I found a hunt."

Y/N announced as she practically bounced into the war room towards the brothers. She handed over her tablet with a big grin, watching as Sam and Dean crowded into each other to read the tablet screen.

"I think you're right," Dean agreed, handing the tablet back to her. 

"Looks like a witch, most likely," Sam huffed.

"A witch?" Y/N asked, her eyes widening. "Never hunted those before," she mumbled as she fidgeted with the device.

"First time for everything," Dean grinned.

"She should stay here," Sam argued, wanting to protect her. "You know how bad witches are."

"She's gotta learn sooner or later," Dean shrugged.

Y/N glared at Sam and huffed as she stomped away, presumably to pack for the hunt. Sam tugged at his hair in frustration. 

"You're not helping anything by trying to bench her, Sam," Dean argued in her defense.

"She could get hurt. She could die, Dean!" Sam roared. "I'm just trying to protect her."

"Then look out for her on the hunt, have her back, and don't make her doubt herself."

She was great on the hunt. Dean beamed with pride as she recited her knowledge of witches and the defense tactics to use against them. She quickly made suggestions, found connections, and helped make everything go smoothly. But Sam could not help but brood once more, worried about her and the bond and her not reciprocating. 

It didn't help that she and Dean were so damn close, Dean praising and encouraging her, making her laugh and smile and beam with joy. It made Sam sick, the jealousy of not having that with her burning through him. He seethed over not being allowed even to be friendly with her as Dean was, let alone what they were supposed to have together.

It distracted him and angered him, and he knew he was being a dick, but he couldn't stop, couldn't help any of it. 

On the hunt, she was nervous but sharp and ready. Cornering the witch in her home went according to plan until she managed to get the three of them separated around her. She attacked Dean first, sending him crashing to the ground. Seeing his brother fall, Sam lunged forward, ready to shoot the witch, but she flung a hand that sent him flying into the wall, his gun clattering from his hold. 

"Sam!" Y/N screamed, worried as she watched Sam and Dean crumpled to the ground. She raised her gun, ready to shoot, but hesitated a moment too long.

The witch launched a blue powder at her - the same that they had found on the victims - before a shot rang out. Dean was lying on his side on the floor, gun perched in his hands, smoke rising from the barrel. The witch fell to the floor in a heap, the bullet hole in her forehead sizzling. 

Sam and Dean rose to their feet just as Y/N fell unconscious to the floor. They both rushed to her, Dean taking her in his arms and checking her pulse and breath while Sam buzzed with worried energy.

"We have the antidote, right?" Dean spoke as he lifted Y/N into his arms and carried her to the car. Sam followed like a worried puppy. He could only nod as Dean lay Y/N in the backseat, rushing to the Bunker to administer the antidote.

-

Sam groaned as his head lolled to the side, revealing an uncomfortable kink in his neck. He hadn't meant to doze off. He discarded the empty beer bottle, which he was surprised was still in his hand. Sitting forward, he groaned again as he rolled his neck to stretch out the muscles and rub the sleep from his face. He froze, however, when his eyes landed on Y/N, sitting up against the headboard, her eyes open and on him.

"Y/N." Sam breathed, surprised to see her awake, but the joyful ache in his heart spurred him to action.

Launching from the chair, Sam hurried to sit on the side of the bed, taking Y/N in his arms in a warm hug. "You're awake," he repeated, his breath fanning her hair. "You're okay."

"I'm okay," she agreed, patting his back. Sam reluctantly left the hug but held her hand in his, needing the comfort and connection.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered, broken.

Before Y/N could respond, her bedroom door opened, revealing a beaming Dean Winchester.

"Well, hey there, Lady," he grinned, coming around the other side of the bed to hug her. "I'm glad to see you're up and well; you had us scared for a minute."

"I messed up, didn't I?" Y/N asked, dropping her gaze to her lap and missing the confused looks of the brothers.

"No, Y/N, you were great," Dean insisted. "Witch dead, no one else got hurt, and you're recovering. Considering how nasty those bitches are, I'd say things went pretty smoothly."

"Hey, Y/N."

She grinned as she looked at Castiel, a real-life Angel she considered a friend, even though they hadn't interacted or seen each other much.

"Can I check you over? Make sure everything's okay?"

Y/N nodded, allowing Cas to place a hand on her forehead. She felt the warmth of his grace as it searched her system, seeking out any damages that needed to be healed. When he pulled away, she felt refreshed, and aches she didn't know she had were suddenly gone.

"The spell's broken," Cas announced. "You'll still need rest, though." He added, smiling when he noticed Sam holding Y/N's hand. "I could sense the connection between you," he continued, grinning as though it were the happiest news he could deliver. "Very rare, very strong," he kept speaking, oblivious to their discomfort. Y/N gently pulled her hand from Sam's hold, leaving him feeling cold without her touch.

"Rare?" Dean asked, ignoring the looks of the others.

"Yes," Cas clarified. "It is a natural soulmate connection. It happens randomly in nature, not assigned like in Heaven. I believe humans referred to it as 'One True Love.'"

Sam had discovered their connection through research, but Cas' words pinpointed the exact kind of connection they shared. His heart raced, and his mind repeated the words 'truelove, truelove' like a mantra. He felt the truth of it deep in his bones.

Y/N was more than surprised hearing Cas's words, though she supposed it explained why she always felt like she did for Sam, despite him rejecting her and being an ass. But as she glanced between Sam and Dean, sharing twin sheepish expressions, her heart sank.

"You knew?" she asked, glancing between them and their silent nods of confirmation. "You knew, and you didn't tell me?!"

She was angry and hurt. Angry that everyone except her seemed to know what was going on. Hurt that they hadn't told her, hadn't trusted her enough to bring her in, even on something that involved her. But she was also trying to corale the crazy galloping of her heart. It always did that when it came to Sam, but with what she'd just learned, it was so much worse. Still, she couldn't let herself accept it or give in.

"I was going to," Sam began but stopped when Y/N shook her head.

"It doesn't matter," she spoke defeatedly. "It doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything!"

"You made it perfectly clear from the start, Sam, that this would never happen. Just because we know what this is doesn't change our reasons for not doing it to begin with."

"Y/N-"

"I think I just want to be alone for now," she spoke, not meeting anyone's eyes as they shuffled out of the room, feeling like scolded children. Sam lingered in the doorway, hand on the knob, hoping that she'd ask him to stay. But when she didn't even look at him, he reluctantly left and closed the door behind him.

-

Sam huffed in his seat at the table, running his fingers through his hair and harshly tucking it behind his ears. He, Dean, and Y/N were in one of the many storerooms, cataloging the many items in the supernatural vault they called home. They had been trying, whenever they had downtime, to archive and digitize the Bunker's contents.

This time, however, they'd been at it for a week already, establishing a daily, monotonous routine as they worked diligently. Surprisingly, it was at Dean's insistence. Unsurprisingly, it was because things between the three of them had gotten entirely worse, tensions extremely high. It started when Y/N began going on less and less hunts along with the brothers. That turned into Sam getting far too distracted on hunts, and when he got injured because his mind was elsewhere, Dean said enough was enough, and they were taking a break.

Y/N, however, had been going on small, local hunts when the brothers were away. Dean found out about it when they returned early from a hunt due to Sam's injury, and she was arriving back from her own hunt. Thoroughly fed up and worried about them both, Dean practically put everyone on house arrest under his watchful eye.

This is how they ended up working on their project, following a routine set by Dean and cleverly forcing them all to interact. Sam and Y/N still managed to barely speak to each other or be as distant as possible within whatever room they were in. This only angered Dean more, frustrating him beyond belief. But he was determined to make them talk and work through it. After all, they were supposed to be each other's True Loves. Though you couldn't tell it by looking at them.

Sam appeared patient and calm, completely contrasting with the raging storm within him. Everything in him ached and begged for her, for even a sliver of positive attention that he would undoubtedly preen under. Despite everything, all he received from her was a cold shoulder. While working, everything seemed normal and fine so long as they stayed on task. As soon as Sam tried to joke or be personal, her icy walls went up, blocking him out again.

It didn't help that Dean was always there, or she was away, or they were doing something together. But she was never alone with him, and he started to think it was intentional. He just didn't know if that was her doing or Dean's. The tension between them was growing to suffocation, and Sam wasn't sure how long he could maintain his carefully crafted control.

Over time, he had become more tuned into her, able to feel and sense her, and understood her more than ever. He deduced that it must be the same for her, two halves eager to become one, which confused him even more about why or how she resisted.

"Alright," Dean announced as he stretched. "I'm gonna make lunch. You two keep working, and I'll bring everything back."

"Want some help?" Y/N quickly volunteered, and Sam dropped his head at how much she seemed to want to avoid him.

"No, I got it," Dean said with a smile before leaving the storeroom, which suddenly felt smaller.

"Y/N," Sam said the moment they were alone. She barely spared him a glance and a hum in acknowledgment as she stood beside the table, looking over the items they had piled to catalog. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you or insult you or whatever you think I might do," he said, unable to keep the hurt from his tone. "So you can relax."

She huffed and shook her head, glancing at him quickly before looking back at the items. "You already did," she mumbled, but he heard it clear as a bell.

"Y/N-" Sam whispered, his heart breaking a little more as she shook her head again, trying to fight off tears.

He could feel her pain and her fear. That's when he realized how terrified she was of letting down her walls and letting someone in. He understood entirely, but he also knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her if the lingering and longing looks were anything to go by, not to mention the thick and taut tension that grew between them.

Sam sighed, then stood, leaning his hands on the table, his head hanging down. He chewed his lip as he thought over what he wanted to say.

"When we met, I wasn't in a great place," he began, not chancing a look at her, instead just focusing on his words and thoughts.

"Everyone we care about dies. It's happened so much, to so many, and it makes it hard to get close to anyone," he admitted with a huff. He glanced up at her, seeing her had her full attention, but his pain reflected in her eyes.

"On that hunt, we had been tracking you. We didn't know who you were but knew you were an inexperienced hunter."

Y/N was more than shocked, and Sam managed to smile sheepishly.

"We decided to follow you in case things went wrong. I was almost certain something would go wrong, they usually do with new hunters."

Y/N looked ashamed, and Sam pushed on.

"When we entered that house and saw you shooting off salt rounds at the ghosts," Sam chuckled and shook his head, his dimples showing and a tinge of red on his cheeks. Y/N fought to contain the dreamy sigh that wanted to slip out. "It was like one of those movie moments where everything slows down, and the light is shining just so," he chuckled, laughing a little harder as her expression morphed into disbelief and skepticism.

"I swear," he continued, enjoying her attention and reaction, feeling the ice chip away. "When you went all fangirl," he teased, "I wanted to be like Dean. Just lean against the car, smirk, and ask what you liked about me."

Y/N flushed hard, the heat in her cheeks enough to cause a blaze. She would have absolutely died if he had done that. Then the heat died down as she sobered, remembering that was absolutely not his reaction. Sensing he was losing her, Sam pushed on.

"I thought I was doing you a favor, doing me a favor, when I drew that line," he admitted, speaking quicker in his haste to explain himself. "But I was wrong, Y/N. And I didn't mean to hurt you."

Her heart soared at his words, his tender and desperate look, and the fear and hope wafting from him. But she still had her doubts - about herself, about them - that he put there. She wanted to trust him but wasn't sure she could.

"Okay, who is hungry?" Dean announced with a grin, setting a tray on the table and handing out sandwiches and beers.

Y/N turned her attention to Dean and the food, thanking him and tucking in. Sam shook his head, not wanting to stop their conversation but a little angry with Dean for his timing. Dean looked at his brother, who was still standing, with a questioning look. Sam deflated and slumped into his chair, ignoring his sandwich in favor of the beer and taking a healthy swig.

Y/N could feel the disappointment and growing depression coming off of Sam, and Dean's questioning gaze between them wasn't helping her feel any better. She set her sandwich down and pushed away her plate with a grumble.

"Lost my appetite," she explained.

"Alright, what happened?" Dean asked, looking between the two, who were looking anywhere but at him. Or each other.

Sam looked to Y/N, waiting for her to say something. The tension and pressure mounted so high that Y/N felt she couldn't breathe. Her flight instincts kicked in, and she dashed from the room, heading down the halls, hoping to barricade herself in her room until the tensions died down.

Dean could see the heartbreak flashing on Sam's face as the object of his affection ran from the room. He wasn't sure what happened while he was gone, but he hoped the renewed tension meant they were trying to work through everything.

"Sam," Dean said to his brother, having to repeat it a few times before he received the big man's attention. "Go after her!"

Sam's brow furrowed, but when Dean repeated himself a little louder, he jumped to action. Dean was right; he shouldn't leave it. Y/N might hate him or push him away, but he felt like maybe he was getting through to her. And he couldn't just leave things the way they were. A sense of urgency filled him, quickening his steps, as he began to feel like he might lose everything if he didn't reach her in time.

Rushing through the halls, he spotted her approaching her bedroom door. "Y/N!" 

He forced himself to walk, though at a brisk speed. He could see her flinch and knew she had heard him, but she didn't stop or turn to him. 

"Y/N!" He repeated, realizing she was still trying to escape him and the talk they desperately needed to have.

His fingers wrapped around her upper arm, and he tugged lightly, making her stop. She tried to shrug him off, which only upset him further. Reaching for her again, he spun her, pinning her in place with her back against the wall right next to her door.

"Sam!" she shouted, trying to push at his chest, but he wasn't moving. Instead, he crowded her further against the wall.

"We have to talk about this, Y/N. We need to deal with this."

She shook her head, on the verge of tears, afraid to look up at him. Her heart had been galloping over his words, and she was grappling with the contradiction between them and what her mind was telling her. His proximity wasn't helping; his scent was warm, and his frame was large. When she had pushed against him, she was surprised she hadn't whined at the strength in his muscles and the solidity of his body. 

It all served to make it impossible to think beyond her desires.

She still hadn't managed to remove her hands from his chest, her fingers twitching lightly against the soft flannel he wore. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her hands, his hands gently holding her upper arms, his warm breath fanning over her face, knowing he was looking down at her and waiting. Waiting for her to speak, to move, to do anything.

"Sam." She breathed, finally getting the courage to look up at him. 

She regretted it almost immediately. His beautiful hazel eyes—so close and in exquisite detail—mesmerized her. Her heart beat so hard and fast that she was sure he could hear it. 

"Please forgive me," Sam spoke, barely a whisper but enough for her to hear.

Everything about Sam was screaming at her to give in, seek out the connection, and revel in all that she had felt and dreamed about with him. She had fought so hard, trying not to give in because he made it clear where he stood. Having him so close, in her space and under her fingers, made something inside her crack and shatter, her walls crumbling down, leaving her open and vulnerable to him.

She nodded, fighting back the tears building in her eyes, "I forgive you."

As he met her eyes, the long-ignored spark brewing between them ignited. Throwing caution and restraint to the wind, Sam cupped her face in his large, strong hands and kissed her with all the passion he’d been denying. He couldn’t fight it anymore and knew she’d likely push him away and maybe slap him, but still, he couldn’t deny himself any longer.

To his surprise, she didn’t pull away and instead leaned into him, moaning as she tilted her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He could feel that she had reached a limit, her desire having lasted just as long. He didn’t think, only felt, as he allowed the moment to carry him away.

Sam wrapped his arms around her, and she bent her body into him, giving in willingly. It was he who moaned this time, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into her room, blindly shutting the door behind them and dropping her down to the mattress. He continued kissing her as he hastily undressed her. His hands skimmed along her silky thighs, desperate and eager for her. Inching his hand higher, he groaned as he found her mound, exposed and wet and waiting for him.

Y/N gasped as Sam trailed his kisses down her neck to her chest, and she scrambled to unfasten his pants. She needed him buried deep inside of her. She had thought about it, dreamed about it, for far too long. Her heart was racing, but she simply couldn’t wait a second longer to feel him.

As soon as his cock was free - hard and throbbing in her small and warm hand - Sam moved her hand away and lined up with her entrance, sinking completely inside in one thrust. Y/N’s hands clung to his back, her thighs tight around his hips as he buried his face between her breasts.

He knew it had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and he was bigger than average. He should have given her more time to adjust, but he just couldn’t keep his hips still; his need was too much to bear. He pulled back and thrust in hard, penetrating deep. Y/N threw her head back, and her mouth hung open at its suddenness. Still, he couldn’t stop or slow.

Capturing her mouth again, he kept up a punishing pace, fucking her hard and thorough. Not just because he’d wanted it for so long. Not just because she had been so stubborn in denying him when he’d been clear of his desire. Not just because he needed to hear her scream from pleasure because of him.

But also to fuck the stubbornness out of her. To claim her as his, inside and out. To make her finally submit and give in to what could exist between them.

Their eyes locked as they approached that climax together, moving hard against each other, desperate for that final release. Y/N broke first, her pussy clenching hard around his shaft as she screamed out her pleasure. Sam followed quickly behind, choking on his breath as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His hips finally stilled as he pressed as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing relentlessly as he released several streams of cum within her warm depths.

Sam pulled away with a gasp and rose to his feet. Y/N was briefly worried that he was going to run off in shame. Instead, he devoured her with his eyes, licking and biting at his lower lip as he removed all of his clothes.

Once bare, he climbed back over her and kissed her with teeth and tongue, stripping her down to leave her nude and writhing. Y/N’s thighs wrapped around his hips, her arms securing around his neck to keep him close.

“Sam .”

“I’m nowhere near done with you,” he confessed, settling his hips between her thighs. She was surprised to find him hard again, or still, as his length nestled against her wet folds.

“You’re mine,” he insisted, sliding within her core slow and steady. “And I’m yours.” He slowly moved his hips, completely contrasting the urgency of before. “No more denying or hiding,” he continued as he slowly thrust in and out, kissing along her neck and collarbone, pressing his promises into her skin.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

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@440mxs-wife

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@leigh70

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SAM WINCHESTER:

@b3autyfuldisast3r

[tinylilacbun]

Saving Him

Summary: You save Rafe from being attacked by Groff, getting hurt in the process.

Pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader

Warnings: age regression (briefly at the end), hand injury, blood, knife, cursing

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bike comes to a stop near a well and Rafe waits for you to get off first before he slides off as well, taking off his goggles and you do the same.

You cough, your throat burning from the sandy wind and lack of hydration, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

Rafe stands in front of you, placing his hand on your arms he lowers his head to meet your eyes. "You good?"

"Mhm...just thirsty." You rasp and he turns to Groff.

"Get some water." He demands and you all walk over to the well, only to realize there's no water in it and Rafe sighs. "Don't worry I'll get you something soon, yeah?"

You simply nod, going to sit on the edge of the well while Rafe talks to Groff.

"Tell us about this crown. What is it worth? Street value, rough estimate." He crouches down in front of you with a hand on your knee he points a finger at the man you don't trust at all, having had a bad feeling about him the whole time. "This shit better be worth our time. Do you understand?"

"Oh, it's worth a fortune." Groff states. "It's one of the most sought-after relics in the world. Owned by Caesar, hunted by Napoleon, said to grant wishes and make the bearer indomitable."

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Rafe curses, standing back up straight again to face Groff. "That wasn't even close to answering my question. What is it worth?"

"Hundreds of millions."

Rafe purses his lips, almost scoffing. "You're full of shit."

"Am I?"

"Hundreds of millions." He repeats. "Wait I- what, you got a buyer or something?"

"Yeah, I got a buyer." Groff answers confidentially.

"Where?"

"Ever been to Lisbon?" He smirks and you scoff at the way he talks as if this whole situation isn't bothering him. That he screwed Rafe freaking Cameron over 400k.

Rafe smiles, approaching him. "Look at you, Groff. A'ight. Always got a plan. Well, you screwed me and my girl. And then you lost my money to those mercenaries, a'ight? So now you're gonna be my bitch."

You smirk at that, that's your man right there.

"And if you're lucky, I give you a little taste on the back end, okay?" He continues, leaning a little closer to whisper so you can't hear. "If I let you live."

On Rafe's demand Groff rolls out the map beside you, showing you both how to read it with the strange necklace thingy that shows things you can't see on the map.

Rafe hands it to you so you can take a look as well and you gasp that it actually works, now this is something you'll rub in his face whenever he says magic is not real, your little self beaming at the sight and begging to make a remark. "That's crazy..."

You give it back to Rafe, not listening how Groff talks about how the crown gives power, only lifting your head when you see him pulling something out of his pocket in your peripheral vision.

Suddenly Groff lungs at Rafe and you instantly react before Rafe even gets the chance and push him to the side just as Groff wields the knife.

You yelp when the knife cuts the inside of your hand, taking a few steps back to clutch your wrist, hissing in pain.

Rafe hurriedly gets back on his feet and takes control of the situation, seeing how Groff now balances himself to not fall into the well behind him, giving him a little nudge to make him fall backwards.

Groff's yell has you sighing in relief momentarily, knowing he isn't a bother anymore, seeing how Rafe leans over the edge.

"HA HA! CHECKMATE BITCH!" Rafe screams.

You whimper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and trying to blend out the stinging pain in your hand, starting to sniffle. "Daddy..."

Rafe turns at the sound of you crying for him, rushing over to you. "You idiot. C'mere let me see..."

You yelp when he takes your hand. He examines the injury and your bottom lip quivers at the amount of blood, the scent of copper penetrating your nostrils. "Hurts..."

"I know, I know. Come, we gotta wrap it up." He shushes you, leading you back over to the bike.

He rummages through the sidecar for anything that resembles alcohol, luckily finding a small bottle together with a rag and unscrewing the cap of the bottle he grabs your hand again. "A'ight, this is gonna sting...here bite into my arm yeah?"

He pushes back the sleeve of the jacket and the shirt he's wearing, lifting his arm to your mouth so you can bite into it which he knows you most definitely will.

"Okay, one, two-" he pours the alcohol over your hand without waiting to three, knowing it would hurt a little less when it's unexpected.

You bite into his forearm with all your might, a loud whine escaping your throat, your eyes shut tightly again.

Rafe doesn't even wince, continuing to disinfect the wound thoroughly all the while soothing you with assuring words.

"There we go. All over, you're so brave, I'm proud of you..." He murmurs, pulling his arm away from your mouth he wraps the rag around your hand, tying it securely to prevent any more blood loss.

You're still sniffling, burying your face in his chest. "M'sorry...had to save you, daddy."

Rafe sighs, wrapping his arms around you he kisses the top of your head. He's actually so fucking proud of you for your courage but he's also mad that you got hurt only because he let his guard down for a second.

"Don't be sorry. Everything's okay." He says, pulling back to look down at you. "Let's go get this crown."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[ervotica]

this isn’t so much specifically about rafe but i’m low-key obsessed with polycule rafe x reader x barry. especially in their dominance with her, because it feels so inherently different. on the surface, barry’s is so much softer but there’s a sinister bite to it, as opposed to rafe who affronts it, but when push comes to shove and reader needs help, she’ll go to him. like the best way to describe it is, reader feels safe with barry but protected with rafe.

yes yes this is all so true! rafe & barry even each other out and i love that for miss reader </3

barry appears outwardly softer with you, all soft touches and smearing kisses along your cute features when you crinkle your nose at him. sitting you in his lap when you’re tired and holding glasses of water to your lips when you’re thirsty so that you don’t have to exert yourself in your sleepy state— generally, barry is playful with you and very soft.

that courtesy only extends so far; you rile him up, you push his buttons in any way, there will absolutely be hell to pay. you can locate the bite to his words from a mile away, the hidden violent streak that wards you off from pushing him too much despite his leniency when it comes to his baby girl.

rafe is argumentative; he pushes back when you mouth off, dishing out as many punishments as he sees fit until he’s sure you’ve learned your lesson. he’s harder to crack than barry, more guarded with his affections, and you have to push past the way his nonchalance twinges at your heart and remind yourself that’s just how he is.

then you get into trouble— real trouble. some prissy kook girl running her mouth at a kegger and suddenly you’re hitting the bitch, breaking her nose and sealing one of her eyes shut at the very least.

you call rafe in a blind panic— you only did it ‘cos she was talking smack about him and barry, you justify, the petulant whine in your cadence vanishing and being replaced with an anxious wobble that drives rafe into action as white-hot panic seizes his own heart.

“‘s okay, baby. i know you jus’ did what you had to do. i get it, okay? ‘ve been there too many times… yeah, yeah, i’ll come get ya, little firecracker.”

you plant your ass on the sidewalk, comforted in the fact that rafe will be here any second when the girl’s boyfriend decides to run up on you. you stumble back, arms out protectively, babbling about how your boyfriend’s gonna be here any minute so he’d better quit it. he grabs your arm hard enough to bruise the soft flesh, getting in your face as he sneers about how his girlfriend was right to say those things and your boyfriend isn’t going to do shit.

you spit back that she shouldn’t have run her mouth if she didn’t want someone to shut her up, and the guy’s features contort in unmistakable rage as he rears back to… hit you?

a fist collides with his jaw before he makes it even another step, and there’s an audible crunch as the guy hits the concrete face-first. rafe stands over him, chest heaving, knuckles bruised and bloodied. the guy still makes to get up, stopped short by a boot to the rib, kicking until he stays fucking down, gasping and limbs askew on the ground.

rafe has you against his chest in an instant, hooking a shoulder beneath your armpit to press his cheek to yours and curse you for being an antagonistic little shit. but he’s softened, his hard edges melting away as he fusses over you, brushing hair back from your eyes and checking you over for cuts and bruises. you get to the car and your bottom lip wobbles, knees tucking in tightly against your chest.

“you gonna tell bar?” you sniffle, cheek smushed against your knee.

“have to, baby,” he murmurs. “he’s not gonna be mad, i promise.”

“are you mad?”

he bristles. “c’mere,” he beckons, arms open in a rare display of affection as you climb over the center console of the car and into his lap. he drags slow lines across your cheekbone with swollen knuckles. “i’m not mad, baby. i’m not pleased, but this isn’t something anyone’s gonna punish you for.”

you will the tears back, fighting the onslaught as your adrenaline drops and you sag. he hooks arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“none of that,” he says gruffly, sitting up to gauge your expression at eye level. “you’re a good girl, okay? jus’ looking out for us, yeah?”

you nod tersely, pushing into his grasp, greedily seeping up every inch of affection you can pull from him. “‘m sorry.”

“let’s go home, yeah?”

barry forgoes any lecturing when you return with one curt stare from rafe and the sight of your pouting bottom lip alone. he bundles you up and murmurs lowly against your skin as you hum and close your eyes, preening sadly. wetness clings to your eyes, pooling against the smudged black caked at your waterline.

rafe makes an entire display out of the way he relents for you, his eyes softening in worry despite the way he bristles and attempts to harden his features; one sad look from you and he’s gathering you back up for a squeezing cuddle and pressing a begrudging kiss to the crown of your skull.

“jus’ go t’sleep, kid. love you, okay?”

you know he does, but hearing him say it sends adoration roiling through your chest in a wave.

“love you more,” you whisper as he kisses right between your pinched brows, pushing you back towards barry.

“you softening old country club up, angel?” the dark haired man snorts, shucking up the duvet until it’s laid over your shoulders as you tuck your face into the juncture of his neck. you roll your eyes at the nickname.

“maybe a little,” you muse, a laugh bubbling at the base of your throat despite the sorrow that sits heavy in your bones.

“there’s my girl.”

[sl0t4matt]

m. guiu bf! head canons (requested)

❀ he‘s crazy about you.

❀ his friends like to tease him about how obsessed he is with you but he doesn’t care. how could he not? in his eyes you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. outside and inside.

❀ he doesn’t want to spend his time with anyone that isn’t you.

❀ “marc! we’re gonna go out to eat with the team. you know, to celebrate tonight’s win.”

❀ “i’m okay, my girl is waiting for me.” he would say.

❀ you on the other hand like to also go out with your friends, since you never want to be that person, that does nothing with her friends anymore just because she’s dating someone.

❀ marc understands and waits in your bed for you, or calls hector out, since he’s always pissed marc completely neglects him when you’re around him.

❀ he just can’t help it. he’s head over heels for you. you got him charmed.

❀ you always send thirsty edits of him to him on tiktok.

❀ “fuck i look good.” he would say.

❀ but oh, can he be a part of the sassy man apocalypse. hitting you with comebacks you wouldn’t have even thought about. not even just that he would hit you with smart ass remarks. he was good with them. leaving you speechless sometimes.

❀ one thing about marc is he will spoil you. no matter how many times you tell him not to. that you do not need that prada bag on your pinterest board. it seems to be going in one ear and out of the other because he has almost bought you your whole pinterest wishlist.

❀ one of his most expensive gifts would be the catier bracelet that has his name engraved on it. you wear it every day to show everyone off but also feel close to him no matter where he is.

❀ you were so mad at him for buying it at first because of the price and how you don’t need all of that. that he’s enough. but he says he “wanted to” and shushes you.

❀ you’re his passenger princess.

❀ you have all of your lip products in his car. it almost looks like it’s your car.

❀ he always lets you put on your playlist since you think his music taste is shit.

❀ you influenced him though, because now he knows almost every song of your favourite artists and also listens to them while practice.

❀ he gets you your favourite flowers on every date you guys have. you could say it’s his love language to surprise you with flowers. even if the both of you just lay in your bed and watch a movie.

❀ when he’s coming to your house, he not only brings you flowers but also your mom and sweets for your siblings.

❀ another one of his love languages is physical touch. from only holding your waist in room full of people to kissing up your thighs as he goes down on you.

❀ he loves giving you head and tasting you. you think it gives him some sort of ego boost to please you.

❀ he also thinks it’s so hot when you wear his barca jersey while riding him. when you tried it for the first time it was just for fun wanting to try something new. you moaned “visca barca” in his ear, meaning for it to be funny. but he took it seriously and came three seconds after you said it. (😭)

❀ “please ma keep it on!” he would groan.

❀ can be such a whiny bitch sometimes when it comes to waiting to fuck you.

❀ it doesn’t help he would get hard at the most random moments.

❀ you lean into marc, your hand steading yourself on his leg to kiss him. your soft lips meet his for a few seconds then pull on his bottom lip teasingly.

❀ “let’s go in!” you pat his leg, leaning back in the seat as you wait for marc to open the door for you like he always does.

❀ “i-. uhm. can’t.” he coughs. you laugh loudly. “marc!! again?” you shake your head. “you’re pathetic!” you tease him laughing.

❀ you look down at the tent growing in his pants. “you’re not helping!” he groans his head falling back.

❀ “you want me to help you?” you poke his chest, winking. he sighs looking out. people won’t see us due to his black windows anyways.

❀ “fuck yeah. please do.”

❀ like said he loves you wearing his jersey that also speaks for the matches. it gives him strength to win, so you make sure that the barca jersey you’re wearing has the number 38 printed on it.

❀ you’re an emotional mess on his games. one time you’re celebrating that your boyfriends team scored, the other you’re cursing the refs and opponents.

❀ no one wants to face you when marc is scoring a goal. you’re going full crazy. yelling and chanting his name like an embarrassing mom. clapping and jumping like you’re completely mental.

❀ he points up to the bleachers to you, taking every opportunity on dedicating the goal to you. he would blow a kiss and you’d do the same after calming yourself down.

❀ you have a ritual for after the game. when the both of you come back from the game, you would give him a little reward for scoring ;)

❀ though it’s not really a valid one because when he loses, you try releasing his anger with doing the same thing.

❀ he would drag your hair while you give him head due to his anger.

❀ after completely ruining you he would apologise like the soft boyfriend he is.

❀ “sorry if i was too rough, baby.” he would say looking down on you.

❀ “it’s okay.” you would smile, eyes still glossy.

❀ after, you would lay your head on his chest and force him to stroke your arm until you fall asleep.