#busted -> who knows -> ready to fight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months ago

Text

in his corner

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, boxer!rafe, established relationship, p in v sex, semi public sex, violence but not in great detail, unprotected sex, mentions of rafes anger issues

rafes head is down as you step into the locker room. it's dark and gloomy, no need for bright lights that just illuminate the blood and grime more.

the fleeting sunlight peeking in through the windows only casts light upon the dust floating in the room as you close the door behind you, causing rafe to finally look up.

his eyes shift from pure focus to something softer. “hey.” his voice is still low, slightly hoarse from not speaking most of the day.

“hey.” you move the rest of the way into the room, your footsteps sounding thunderous in the silence that always cloaks the gym before a fight, especially one like this.

“ill be safe.” you see a hint of humor in his eyes now as you roll yours. you always tell rafe to stay safe before a fight, it's become such an expectation that he beats you to it.

“do you have your gloves?” you ask, looking towards his gym bag, wanting to rifle through it to make sure rafe has everything he needs, even though you packed it for him.

“of course.” rafe smiles, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs and pulling you closer into him, his forehead pressing against your stomach.

“you're nervous for this one.” rafe states. he doesn't need to ask, he can tell just by your energy, the way your breathing is more frantic, your eyes opened ever so slightly wider than normal.

“im not the one in the ring.” you hum, hand coming to the back of his neck, stroking over his hairline, taming it despite knowing it's only a few minutes before it's going to get messed up again, either by rafe rubbing at it or the opponent.

“i know.” rafe looks up at you, a soft smile on his face. “but ya love me.”

“mmm, unfortunately.” you joke, a smile flashing across your lips before you drop your head to press your mouths against rafe, the kiss hungry and desperate, knowing it may be your last for a while if rafe gets his lip busted open.

“okay-” rafe sighs, pulling away, restraint in his voice as his insides call to continue kissing you. “it's almost time. love you.”

“love you too.” you back away but keep your eyes locked with rafe until your back is pressed up against the door. “win for me.”

you step out, eyes flickering around his team, waiting in the hallway for you, knowing better than to interrupt your moment with rafe.

“he's ready.” you nod to rafes coach before ducking out of the way as they file into the locker room.

you can hear the noise of the crowd grow as you walk into the arena, rows of seats all facing towards the central octagon. none of the security stops you to ask for a ticket as you walk to the front, rafe has become a headliner at the boxing gym, and you a vip along with it.

you take your seat, a coveted one, right in rafes corner. you know he has supporters, and while you appreciate most of them, the female ones who fawn over him anger you every time they shout his name or try to give him their number, but his quick shut down of advances always washes away the brief resentment.

“hey y/n.” rafes coaches brother, lewis, sits next to you, your de facto personal bodyguard. you insisted you didn't need someone looking over you, but rafe was always worried about a fight starting in the crowd. it certainly wouldn't be the first one that has broken out at a boxing gym.

“hi lewis.” you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and lean back in your seat as the prematch comes out, beginner fighters to keep all the early attendees from getting impatient while the crowd grows and seats fill.

overall, it's a professional arena. not on a pro level by any standards, but the best you can get in the area without making boxing full time. it certainly puts the smaller gyms rafe started out in to shame.

you were the one who originally suggested it. any sort of contact sport to work through some of his anger. you saw it bubbling under the surface, and you knew rafe would never do anything in your presence, even if he wanted to scream and punch a wall, he'd bottle it all in just to not scare you.

you clap as the first round comes to an end, ever the good supporter and attendee. it's part of the reason the gym likes rafe so much, he's no fuss, no personal drama, just pure fighting.

there's more rounds as you wait to see rafe, the rest of the seats being filled along with standing room in the back for anyone getting in late.

a new referee steps into the ring, a professional with years of experience who doesn't bother with the lower level fights, saving himself for the main event.

you sit up a little straighter in your seat as your eyes move to the door, a smile stretching over your cheeks as rafe steps out to applause and the thumbing base of a rap song. you applaud as well, keeping your eyes on rafe despite knowing he won't look at you, not until he gets in the ring, some sort of superstition that he's developed as he keeps his head down.

the other fighter comes out to the booming announcement of their name, a silly nickname you immediately disregard. clearly someone trying to rise the ranks and become a well known name, but you can tell just by his stature that rafe will take him down.

you breathe a little sigh of relief as rafe climbs into the ring and looks over to you, a slight smirk you're sure only you can see. he knows just as well as you do that this will be an easy day.

the official facilitates the handshake between the opponents before they're back to their corners to tape wrists and put on gloves, getting everything prepared. you keep your eyes on rafe, of course, taking in his every movement.

you feel a stirring in your stomach as he stands, tank top stretched tight across his body while his shorts are looser, allowing him to move easily around the ring.

you hear a woop coming from the back but know better than to divert your attention, rafe surging forward right when the official starts the round. he wastes no time throwing quick punches before defending, stepping to the side to miss the opponents swipes.

rafe lands a few more blows, but you don't cheer yet. you've made the mistake before of thinking he's in the clear too early.

the movement of rafes body is almost a dance, one driven by passion. his biceps bulge with every punch, swear gathering on his chest, making your mouth water as you watch.

the officials whistle to end the round makes you jump, too wrapped up in rafes looks to pay attention to the fight like you know you should.

you really do try to shift your attention back, but as the next round starts, you're quickly drawn back to watching rafes body and smooth movements.

every punch he throws makes your legs tighten further, hoping the pressing of your thighs offers you some sort of relief, but any comfort is fleeting.

your body responds for you when the fight comes to end, rising to your feet and clapping as you snap back to attention. rafe of course wins, the opponent not even getting a punch to his face other than a brief touch on his jaw that didn't even knock his mouthguard.

“i knew you'd win.” you smile and step forward as rafe comes to the ropes, leaning over to press his lips against yours.

“let me talk to the team and shower then we'll get out of here, yeah?” rafe kisses you again before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “i can tell you're turned on.”

“how'd you know?” you question as rafe shifts the car into drive, his free hand immediately coming to your thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“that you were- are turned on?” rafe smirks, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. “you get a look in your eyes, baby. and i can tell you want me.”

“and i have that look right now?” you hum out, turning the volume up on the radio slightly as the kid cudi song comes on.

“mhm. and it'll only intensify when i do this-” rafes hand slides upwards between your thighs. you quickly part them for him, letting out a soft moan as his fingers rub right where he knows you like it best.

“shit.” you lean back into the seat, trying to keep yourself from jumping over the center console and pouncing on rafe instantly. you pray you don't hit traffic as he presses harder on the gas pedal, ready to get home as well.

“you looked so pretty tonight cheering me on baby.” rafe pushes his fingers harder against your pants, creating tight circles. “even if you were spaced out the entire time.”

“mhm.” you hum, not even truly listening to what rafe is saying, just enjoying the tambor of his voice and the feeling growing in your stomach.

you know when rafe laughs that it's at you and your current state, but you've done far too much and been with him far too long to be embarrassed or ashamed by your lust as you let out another moan.

your eyes are glossy as you turn to look at rafe, hand gripping the wheel tightly with a clear tent in his sweatpants. you blink a few times to clear your vision as you take in his hard set jaw, tension building as he is forced to wait to get inside you.

you reach over to place your hand on rafes crotch, hoping the pressure of your hand sustains him a little longer.

“it's taking everything in me not to pull over and fuck you here in the car.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

you look out the windshield as rafe moves his hand to grip the steering wheel with both hands, needing it now that you're touching him to keep the vehicle steady. “we're almost home.” you hum out, petting your fingertips over his length, contemplating pushing his pants down and bending over the center console, but your clenching pussy needs him.

rafe pulls into the driveway at speeds he shouldn't be going inside a residential neighborhood, the car calming to a halting stop, and not even a second passes before you're out of your seats and out of the car.

rafe beats you to the front door, throwing it open for you to rush inside, locking it tight after you've entered.

you know you won't make it to the bed. you never do on nights like this. both on a high from rafe winning his fight, an easy opponent with not even a scratch to his knuckles.

rafe presses you against the wall of the hallway, his body molding against yours as his lips smash forward into a passionate kiss. you reach between your bodies immediately, knowing you're already soaking wet and ready from rafe playing with you in the car.

you push down on the hem of rafes sweatpants until rafe moves his hips and allows you to shove them down along with his underwear.

rafe lets out a sigh as your hand wraps around his length, holding his cock in your grasp as you quickly begin to stroke.

“fuck, baby.” rafe places his fist around your hand. “as much as i love you touching me like this i need to be inside you now.”

there's a desperation in his voice that makes something in your chest tighten.

you nod and release him, undoing your button and zipper to shove your pants to the ground and kick them away. rafe grabs the hem of your tshirt before you can take it off yourself, pulling it up over your head before it also joins the clothes scattered around the foyer.

rafe connects your lips back together, his hands sneaking behind your back to undo your bra before pulling the cups off, large palms quickly replacing them as he holds your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze that has your mouth falling open in a satisfied sigh.

“bedroom, counter or right here?” rafe asks, pulling on your lip before you can answer and giving it a tug.

“right here.” you reach down and take rafes cock in your hand, giving it a stroke. “right here, right now.”

“mmm, don't have to tell me again.” rafes arms circle around you and pull you up, pinning you against the wall. your body moves so naturally like it's done a hundred times before, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

rafe lines up his cock with your entrance and sinks forward. your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him in tight, mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing closed as he slowly enters you.

“oh god.” rafe groans, mouth opening as well, but to press his teeth against your skin, biting down gently so as to not actually hurt you, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“fuck me rafe.” your fingertips are digging into his shoulders, trying not to pierce him with your nails as you grip onto his muscles, muscles he just used to pummel his opponent.

“fuck me hard.” you don't often ask for it hard or really give him any direction. rafe knows how to please you, but it's different today. you need his full force, everything he has left in him.

and he doesn't make you wait.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly before slamming in, forcing your ass back into the wall with a thud, your whole body shuddering as he thrusts.

you tighten your arms even more, needing your bodies to become one as he pumps his hips forward, the sound of skin meeting together spreading through the empty house.

tomorrow, you'll clean up the clothes off the floor. tomorrow, you'll make a large breakfast to replenish rafe from his fight and open every window in the house to let in light and air, but tonight, you're going to remain in the dark hallway with your legs wrapped around rafes waist.

“harder.” you beg again, even though you're not sure you can take it.

rafe complies, swinging faster as one of his hands manages to find a way between your bodies, tips of his fingers pressing against your clit. he knows he should fuck you longer, but he can build you up again for the second time in the bedroom, you've teased each other too much and he needs to feel you fall apart in his arms.

“you're so tight and warm.” rafe mumbles, burying his face in your neck as he huffs, absorbing your heart after being apart physically for too long, the cold air of the gym and locker room now being replaced with you.

“i love you.” rafe mumbles, lips against your neck as he presses a few kisses to your throat. “thank you.”

he doesn't need to say what for. you understand. for being with him, for encouraging him to try boxing, for standing by his side and knowing what's best for him even when he didn't know himself.

“i love you.” you moan out, pussy clenching around rafes cock as your high suddenly hits, back arching off the wall in pleasure only to be slammed back against it as rafe pushes as deep as he can go inside of you, the squeezing of your cunt triggering his own high as his cum spurts inside of you.

“f-fuck.” you whine, nails fully leaving marks now as you breathe deeply, chest rising and falling, pressing against rafes with every breath.

“let's go take a bath.” rafe says, his voice suddenly softer, almost like the sex was the last bit of excursion he needed to calm himself after the fight.

“okay.” you can't help but giggle.

despite your agreement, rafe doesn't pull out, his softening cock still inside of you and bodies connected.

“okay.” you repeat, pressing your lips against rafes cheek before resting your head against his, realizing what he needs in that moment. “i love you.”

you stay there, still, for minutes that stretch into what feels like hours, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“okay.” rafe finally responds, eyes blinking with a new clarity, any sort of anger or frustration he had before the fight now freed from inside him. “bath time, yeah?”

2K notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 7 months ago

Text

࿐ ࿔ hot, hot summer !

in which you got the offer of a lifetime—takes place in 2006-2009 era! @mrrpmiao miao, you’re so responsible for the brain worm you’ve instilled in my mind🙂‍↕️

a part of gojo's love entries

summer is as hot as you are pretty.

it’s an undisputed fact to satoru. after all, he chose you. so of course you were the best. he supposed even strangers here would eventually come to realize it too… as it wasn’t the first time their kind had done so.

kamakura beach was packed in summer, and he stepped away a bit to get you shaved ice only to come back to this appalling sight.

“miss! ooh! you’re so gorgeous!”

this suspicious-looking middle-aged man—with goatee, long tied hair, wearing palm shirt and beach shorts—approached you so merrily as you were chilling under the parasol.

“ah thank you…?” you pasted a taut smile, totally clueless and spooked, hoping he would go on his way.

“i mean it! your body is so—wow!” the man gasped dramatically, appraising you from head to toe. “your bust—it’s perfect! you’d make a good cover girl, you know!”

you were wearing the bikini of the same brand inoue waka endorsed at satoru’s insistence, and true, it was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

his sore eyes, specifically. not others.

satoru scowled, and he marched towards where you were. he would do his job as always—chasing away no-good men from you.

“hey you,” he barked. “what business do you have with my girl here?”

the bearded man regarded him with surprise, before he assessed him from top to bottom. “oh! you’re mr. boyfriend? whoa, you don’t look bad yourself!”

“if you’re trying to bother my—”

“no, no! you’ve got the wrong idea!” the man defended, raising both hands in surrender. “you see, i’m about to offer the pretty lady a gig as a gravure model!”

wha? you gaped. satoru blinked.

“m-me?” you stammered, flabbergasted, pointing at yourself. “uh, are you sure?”

“yes! 100% sure!” the agent man replied with stars in his eyes. “miss, with your assets, you’ll outshine even inoue waka or kaoru sakurako themselves!”

“really?!” you almost laughed. it was a strange compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.

but next to you, satoru’s face darkened, his eyes obscured. his fists clenched around the paper bowl of shaved ice so hard it shook. the next thing you know—

“here, hold this.” he suddenly shoved the shaved ice to you, before he plucked his sandal off and—

“YOU!” satoru raised the flip-flop above his head, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to swing it at the man. “GET LOST YOU SLIMY BOZO!”

“—?! WAIT, YOUNG MAN!”

and then came the most disastrous scene before you: your boyfriend chased the agent with his sandal, throwing it at him that it bonked his head, then grabbed someone’s big-ass water gun without permission and continued the pursuit, determined to catch him.

. . .

“how could you?! why do you seem even remotely interested!?” satoru fierily questioned you after he was done cooking the gravure video agent, panting and sopping wet. in the end, the two of them got into a water gun fight that ended with him winning.

you turned to him, feigning an unimpressed expression. “he said i can outshine inoue waka. who wouldn’t want that chance?”

“you can’t!” he retorted almost immediately, aghast. “i mean, yeah you can! but no! no way! you can’t flaunt your body for everyone to see!”

“why?”

“you are mine!” he pouted hard, irked. “i don’t want to share you! you are for the consumption of my eyes only!”

his blatant response made you giddy, truthfully. and as if to stress his point, he suddenly pulled you to his chest from behind, wrapping both arms around you, making you squeal.

“satoru, you’re wet!”

“so? when i marry you someday, we’re going to share a lot of things together. wet is one of them.”

“does this mean you’d pick me over inoue waka?” you threw him a suggestive smile, looking up at him expectantly.

his face then turned pink, as he smooched you in the head. “you know the answer to that, dummy.”

who would have thought that he would really keep his promise and that you'd come to the same beach years later...?

3K notes · View notes

sooniebby · 5 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

W.C › 5.6k

Warnings › Chapter 1. Male omegas have a bit of a strange anatomy. Tried to explain it well. In any case, male omegas have pussies.

Plot › You go through a Pseudo heat and learn more about what your parents truly did to your body

Kinks › use of pussy, dirty talk, cumming untouched

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮:

𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨 & 𝘼𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙨

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞

“Do they hate me?”

“Mhm? Who is they?”

“You know.”

“I don’t, (Name).”

“Yes you do. But mom actually likes you.”

“This again?”

“Yukina is gone. Now I’m her target. Why can’t you see that?”

“It’s nonsense, that’s why. No mother could ever hate her child. No parent would ever hate their children. Familial love is one that can’t be replaced.”

“…Naoki would understand. But you… you…”

“Naoki? Seriously? Have you taken your suppressants?”

“Naoki says I shouldn’t take it! No one else takes it. You don’t even take it. My scent is sweet, it’s not sour like yours. It’s fine—”

“(Name), think for a moment. You being an omega is already enough on the family. Would it hurt you to just try and make our parents proud? Can’t you just do this one thing for them? For us?”

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞

“Will he be okay? Has he even gone through a heat before? Is he a late bloomer?”

Miya sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she glanced over at Watanabe. You were barricaded in your bedroom—the smell of heat spilling in from underneath the door. Watanabe was by the kitchen, his hands grasped tightly at the wooden chair Miya usually used when she wanted to cook without standing.

She could already see the chipped wood forming beneath his palms. The sound of the wood breaking slowly.

She’d complain about that another time. It was a shock Watanabe was even lucid enough to not bust the door down and mate you. This sight of Watanabe was interesting. His cool bad boy facade was long gone, replaced by an anxious alpha.

You’d think Watanabe had mated you ages ago.

“Mhm. I don’t know. He’s never had a heat before because of…” Her voice trailed off, her lips pursing together. Did he know? Would it be safe to tell him? Would you even want her to tell him?

“Because of?” Watanabe muttered, finally looking over at Miya. She could see his eyes were blown, unfocused. They looked to be struggling to not narrow in at your bedroom door.

Miya didn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet. The whole journey here she wanted to get you away from him. But she could tell just from his soured scent that he wasn’t focused on fucking you. He was genuinely scared right now.

“He presented late, that’s all.” It wasn’t a total lie.

A strangled moan left your bedroom and Miya could see in seconds Watanabe’s gaze zero in on your door. His grip tightened on the chair and she heard the wood crack. Slowly his palms bleed red as he grit his teeth, closing his eyes as he began to whisper something to himself.

Miya inched over to the door, ready to defend your safety if need be. She didn’t care that she only reached his chest, stomach really. She’d fight to the death for you if she had to.

A knock on the door caught her attention. “Huh? Who…?”

“My mom.” Watanabe suddenly whispered, moving his hand away from the chair. The chair was totally destroyed, coated in his blood. His hands had pricks and splinters as he plucked out the large ones and dropped them by the trash as he stiffly walks to the front door.

“When did you even call your mom?” Miya asked, wondering what his mother could possibly do in a situation like this.

“Texted.” He bluntly said, pulling the front door open.

A chubby woman with greying brown hair pulled into a neat bun was shown, dressed in a nurse garment. Ah, that’s why. Her lips were pursed as she narrowed at Watanabe’s bleeding hands. She pulled out a first aid kit from her bag and stepped inside, handing it over to Watanabe.

Ms. Watanabe glanced around the room before sniffing the air, a frown pulling on her lips as she noticed Miya by the door. “Ah, are you Tanaka’s alpha?” She asked, walking over to Miya.

Miya hummed, needing to get used to the title. “Ah.. Yes. Furukawa Miya.”

“Watanabe Hitomi. I’m a doctor that specializes in omegas healthcare. Ah, ignore the nurse garments, today was my day off, I just put whatever on.” She laughed to herself, smiling brightly.

“Mhm. Then… can you check on (Name)? He’s never had a heat before.”

“Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure I had permission.”

“Permission?”

“Yes. Alphas are so territorial! Even with betas like me,” she giggled. “Riki, you haven’t mated Tanaka yet, yes?”

Watanabe only grunted, busy bandaging his hands.

“I’ll be back, Furukawa-San.”

Miya bowed her head. “Thank you, Watanabe-San.”

“Ah, call me Hitomi. I have a feeling we’ll be like family soon.” Hitomi grinned, opening the bedroom door and stepping inside.

Hitomi couldn’t help her gasp as she slammed the door behind herself quickly, hoping none of your scent had slipped out. She pulled out a small packet of pills and a water bottle as she stepped over to your bed.

And there you were, nude burying your face into a sweater that was seeped in Miya’s citrus scent. You whined at the sight of Hitomi, too horny to care about your nudity. Hitomi’s beta scent was refreshing. Minty like any other beta. But it was nice. Miya’s scent was doing nothing for you.

But there was something in Hitomi’s scent that caught your attention, no matter how fuzzy it was.

Ume?

Riki? Does she know him? Mhm, Ume…

“Tanaka-San, I’m sorry this is how we meet. I’m Watanabe Hitomi, Riki’s mother. He wanted me to check on you because it’s your first ever heat, yes?”

You only whined at the mention of Riki’s name. Why wasn’t he here with you right now? Did he not want you? Were you not enough?

A cool hand against your neck caused you to flinch, your eyes opening again to look at Hitomi. She smiled softly, sitting down on the bed as she rest the water bottle on the night stand.

“It’s okay, Omega. Breathe. Your Alpha loves you.” She whispered, her voice motherly. “But he can’t be here. It’s your first ever heat, it’s a dangerous time for you, Pup. He could accidentally hurt you.”

You whined, feeling your fist tighten their grip on Miya’s sweater. Hurt you? Riki would never. He could never hurt you. Just what was this lady talking about?

Hitomi chuckled. “Well you can growl so I don’t need to check that.”

Growl? You didn’t even notice you were making any noise beside whimpering.

“I have something to help with the pain, Pup. It’s a heat suppressant. Have you taken any other suppressants? One that wasn’t only for heats?”

Shame creeped up on you as you looked away, biting your lip. Hitomi watched as you slowly nod. She didn’t say anything for a moment—as if waiting for you to elaborate. You slowly reached over and pulled open your night stand’s drawer.

“Is it in here?” She asked, looking over as she reached inside and pulled out the empty packets. You watched as her calm eyes began to widen in horror as she read the name. “…L…Limited X…?! Tanaka-San, are you serious?!”

She calmed down when you responded with a whimper, curling up into yourself further in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Pup. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Hitomi leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but purr.

Doctors aren’t supposed to be this loving but you would ignore it in the fact she was your alpha’s mother. Wasn’t she practically your mother now?

“Miya said you were a late bloomer… Was that a lie? Did you present?” She took your whine as a yes. “When did you start taking Limited X?”

A grunt left your throat as you parted your lips, “…nine…”

“Nine…? When.. When did you present?!”

“Nine…”

Hitomi pulled away. You saw from the corner of your eye her panicked expression as she whispered something herself. Was it that bad? Your situation couldn’t have been that rare. She let out a sigh before turning back over to you, a small smile on her lips.

“Your parents are awful, Pup. But it’s okay now. I got you.” She whispered, her voice shaky as she reached over and gently brushed your cheek. Her hand trailed down to your neck as she touched your scent gland. A broken gasp left her lips at the tough skin her fingers grazed.

“Mhm..?” You whined

“Your scent gland isn’t even…” Her look of surprise was soon replaced with fury. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head, patting your back as she stood up. “I’m sorry, Pup. I can’t let you take the suppressants. You need to let the heat run its course. Is there anything you want before I go? I’ll come back to visit you in a day or two.”

“Riki… I want Riki…”

“I’m sorry, but he can’t spend it with you. It’s for your safety, baby.”

“Please… Please… Want him…”

Hitomi pursed her lips as she glanced over at the door. “Okay. For a minute.” She left the room, leaving you alone. Your hand found the fluidity to toss Miya’s sweater across the room, wanting the citrus scent far away from your nose.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt a cool hand gently touch your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep. A low purr left your throat when your eyes met Riki’s. There he was.

Well, he was a bit far from you.

You hum and raise an eyebrow, reaching over to grab his hand and pull him closer. But he quickly resisted, pulling his hand away. The sound that leaves you is almost like that of a kicked puppy as you look at him in shock.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you were too far gone in your heat to speak now.

“Sorry… Sorry, I can’t get too close. It’s hard enough being here.” Riki muttered, his eyes looking at everything but you. You noticed his tense posture, back straight entirely with his fists clenched at his sides. The bandages wrapped around his fists catch your attention as you whimper, wondering how he got hurt in such a short amount of time.

Did Miya fight him??? Oh god, you hoped that they would get close not fight.

A strangled grunt leaving Riki’s chest made you look up at him, seeing his jaw set tight. Was your scent affecting him this badly?

“Ah, (Name), I can’t stay in here much longer.” Riki groaned, reaching down and pulling off his shirt. Your eyes widen as your legs clamp together, an eager smirk pulling on your lips. Neither can you, you felt as if you would burst if he just continued to stand there.

But whatever you thought was going to happened was ignored when he tossed the shirt at your face. Any disappointment was drowned out when you sniffed the shirt, sighing in relief at having the Japanese apricots fill your nostrils.

“Why didn’t she tell me you were naked….”

Your eyes peek open to see Riki moving away, the sound of his pants falling onto the ground causing you to purr in appreciation at the sight of his ass. He also tossed his pants at you. It hit your square in the face but you didn’t care, eager to just bury your nose in his scent.

“Riki…” You mewled, slick coating the bedsheets beneath you.

“Shh. If you say my name again I’ll cum.” He said bluntly, his hand gripping at his boxers before pulling them off. You couldn’t help the slight squeal that left you as he tossed the boxers to you. You forgot all about his pants and shirt as you bit at his boxers, purring at the fabric in your hands.

Ah, it was right against his cock.

You thought he was now coming to join you in bed but you whined as you watched him slip on some clothes. What?! What the fuck?! He changed into a plain old t-shirt and sweatpants. Where did he even get that?!

You felt like throwing a tantrum.

Here you were, pliant, soaking wet, practically begging for him. And he was only nice enough to give you his boxers?!

Riki finally turned around, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me those eyes. I’m following my mom’s instructions. I’ll visit you again tomorrow.” He walked over to you with his fingers pinching his nose. A slight giggle left your lips at the sight as he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your lips before quickly pulling away and sprinting to the door.

“Bye!” He yelled, closing the door behind him.

He was lucky he’s cute…

You glanced down at the boxers still in your hand and sighed. This will have to do for tonight.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Aren’t they cute?”

You kneel down, peering into the small pond. The koi fish swirl around each other as you poke your finger in the water. They disburse away from your small ripple, finding safety near the other side. A slight giggle leaves your lips.

“They’re funny.”

“Funny? Mhm, I don’t know. I think you’re more funny looking.”

A gasp leaves you as you turn over to face Naoki, pouting at the laugher that begins to escape him. He falls back onto his butt while you cross your arms together and fane a look of disappointment at his teasing.

“Meanie. The girls at my school say I’m cute. And that I smell sweet!”

“Do they? What did you bribe them with?”

“B..Bri…be..? What does that mean?”

Naoki only chuckled, reaching over to pull you close with him on the grass. “Ask your teacher. But you do smell sweet, (Name). My little pudding.”

“Well…! You smell like vanilla!”

“Vanilla? That’s too sweet for an alpha like me.”

“Don’t care. You’re sweet. Sweet alphas are better than smelly alphas like Daichi.”

“Really? Then I hope you get with an alpha with the sweetest scent there is.”

“Ew! I don’t like alphas. Only you and Miya. Yuck!”

Naoki laughed. You couldn’t remember his face. It hurt so much to only remember his heart shaped smile. Why couldn’t you remember his eyes? His nose? The only person to love you and you can’t even remember him properly?

“(Name), c’mon, drink this!”

A groan left your throat as your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. You looked to your left and saw Miya holding a glass of water. She smiled and reached down, wiping at your face before helping you sit up.

“Did you sleep well? You had a big smile on your face before I woke you up.” She asked, sitting down on the bed. You hummed absentmindedly, eager to quench your thirst.

“How long has it been?”

“A week.”

“Week?! Heats only last three days…”

“Yeah will you haven’t exactly gone through a heat before. Anyway, Hitomi-San came to visit you everyday to make sure you didn’t die.”

“Die?!”

Miya hummed. “You were sometimes so cold during the night or really hot. She would sometimes stay the night to make sure you didn’t stop breathing too.”

“Crap… I don’t remember anything that happened…”

“Well you didn’t do anything embarrassing if you’re worried about that.” Miya said, taking the empty glass from you. Her lip slightly twitched as she smirked. “Ah, wait, no that’s not true… you did embarrass yourself when Watanabe came.”

You froze, looking over at Miya with a look of fear. Miya smirked and began to laugh, enjoying your panicked expression.

“What?! What did I do?”

“It was so funny… Hitomi-San was cleaning the slick off your body when Watanabe came into the room to give you fresh clothes with his scent. You practically shoved Hitomi-San off the bed to launch yourself at Watanabe. I should’ve recorded it!!”

“Is Hitomi-San okay?!”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Watanabe wasn’t, you made him fall and knock his head against your desk! Then you started crying as if you killed him because he was knocked out for a second. Anyway he had to get stitches on the back of his head.”

You stared at Miya with your mouth agape, physically imagining the event in your head. You were so glad you couldn’t remember anything. It was already bringing you shame and embarrassment at the fact you literally attacked Riki just cause of your stupid heat.

Not to mention shoving away the woman who was helping you live… Gosh, you wanted to curl up and die.

Miya had finally stopped laughing and pulled out her phone, showing you a picture she must’ve took of that night. Sure enough, there you are, naked as the day you were born. Luckily enough Miya had cropped it to where it was only the upper half of your body.

You were straddling Riki, holding his face in your hands as you looked to be in a mid cry. There was a small amount of blood on the floor from what you could tell so he really did get hurt. Miya swiped, showing a short video that was Riki waking up, looking absolutely disoriented before narrowing in on you. Immediately a blush appeared on his face and he practically bucked you off of him.

Your cries were heard in the background as you were flung off camera. Video Miya yelled something about being careful while Hitomi had moved over to you. Riki moved to stood up but soon collapsed back onto the ground, earning a shrill scream from what you could only assume was yourself. The video soon ended with Miya accidentally turning the camera on your bare butt as you once again shoved Hitomi away to get to Riki.

That was…

“Oh my god.” You whispered, wanting to end it all right then and there while Miya laughed her ass off.

“I’ve never seen you act so animal like!” Miya laughed, wiping away the stray tears from her face. “It was nice. Felt like the first time you were truly yourself. Even if it was while you were butt naked, dripping slick all over the carpet.”

“Miya!!”

“What? It’s a normal bodily function. Don’t get embarrassed.” She patted you on the back and stood up, stretching. “Anyway, Hitomi-San and Watanabe will be here in a few hours. Take a shower… a long one.”

With that, she left your room, leaving it open as Ume sprinted inside. Ume purred as she jumped onto your bed and immediately got comfortable, curling into herself. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing Ume must’ve been upset to not have access to your room for such a long time.

She hated closed doors. Ume practically owned the place.

You rubbed at your neck, groaning as you stretched your sore body. Your body sputtered for a moment as your fingers gently rubbed against the lower center of your neck. It… was a bit softer?

It was still sold and rough but there was a slight softness that wasn’t there before.

It wasn’t too late for you…?

You could be mated?

You’d have to ask Hitomi. But you couldn’t help the slight giddy smile on your lips. You could be Riki’s if it really was softening… A slight glob of slick soaked the bedsheets beneath you. You groaned, rolling your eyes. This was going to have to take some getting used to.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Miya fiddled with her phone, her eyes flickering around as she closed the apartment door behind her. Her phone began to ring—startling her out of her thoughts as she quickly answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey. How are things there?” She whispered, walking to lean over the railing. Her dyed purple hair was pulled back into a small ponytail as the wind blew her bangs upward.

The voice on the other line as hushed and quiet.

“Terrible. He’s back.”

“Which one?”

“Obviously the eldest. He had a wedding ring on his finger. I think he’s married now.”

“Married…? He didn’t tell (Name)? Does he even have a mating mark?”

“That type of alpha would never let anyone mark him. Anyway, he talked to me as if we’re friends. The nerve.”

“Shit. Did he say anything weird?”

“Besides the fact he was not so subtly making fun of me for still living at mom’s place, no. He did insult me being a mangaka, I don’t remember telling him that. Did (Name) tell him?”

“Really, Yuzuru? (Name) doesn’t even talk to his mom unless she calls. He’s not talking to Daichi.”

“Watch your mouth. I’m still the oldest, little shit. I don’t have to do this spying shit for you.”

“Then say goodbye to your precious beta reader!”

“Wait! Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I still haven’t seen Naoki. I… huh?”

“Mhm? What’s wrong?”

“Uh… Daichi just came back with a woman… an omega I think.”

“Omega? No way in hell… those alpha elitist would never mate with an omega…” Miya waited for her brother to continue speaking but she soon heard the sound of a woman talking before the phone abruptly cut off.

She cursed, ready to call Yuzuru back when she saw Hitomi and Watanabe walk up the stairs to the complex. She’d have to call him back later. With a huff, she put her phone away and grinned, waving at Hitomi.

Hitomi smiled, her eyes closing into crescent moons. “Morning, Miya-Chan! I brought breakfast for you and Tanaka. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did! (Name)-Kun is doing great thanks to your help. He just woke up a few minutes ago.” Miya reached over and took the plastic bag away from Hitomi, opening the apartment door to let them inside. She rolled her eyes at Watanabe’s lack of greeting.

She could tell he was fidgety. His eyes quickly narrowing in on your bedroom door, practically waiting for you to come out so he could see if you were truly okay.

Hitomi pulled out a MedKit from her bag, going straight to your room. She didn’t knock, just pushed the door open before shutting it behind her.

Just your luck, you were putting on your underwear when she came in. You shrieked, reaching to cover your nude body from her eyes.

“Calm down, Pup. I’ve seen everything by now.” She said honestly, resting the MedKit on your nightstand as she pulled out what looked to be a thermometer and some pills. “Come here once you’re dressed.”

You slipped on a baggy t-shirt and shorts, wondering if you should bring up the whole… shoving incident. “Uhm… If… uh.. there.. was anything weird I did… while… y’know… in heat… I uhm…”

Hitomi glanced over at you. “You mean giving my son a concussion and having him bleed out on the floor?”

Your breathing halted, your eyes widening at her words. Well when she puts it that way…

Her gaze was harsh on you before a gummy smile pulled on her lips. “It’s okay, Pup. You aren’t the craziest patient I’ve had to dealt with. You were tame. Now c’mere.”

You walked over to where she was by your desk and watched as she held up the thermometer, motioning for you to pry your lips apart.

“Besides,” she said, slipping the thermometer into your mouth. “You look cute while crying. You cared so much for my Riki. I think if Miya hadn’t held you back, you would’ve followed us to the hospital.”

“Followed…?” You muttered, taking the thermometer out of your mouth to once it beeped. Hitomi took it from you and hummed. A good temperature you’d assume.

“Yes. You wouldn’t even let me touch Riki at first. Took Riki waking back up and telling you to calm down for you to finally release him.”

“I didn’t know omegas could be… territorial.”

“Everyone is territorial. Especially for someone they love. Omegas can be scary when they want to. You almost bit me.” Hitomi said nonchalantly.

“Bit?!”

“It’s fine. Like I said, you were like a kitten compared to other patients I’ve had.” She opened the bottle of pills and poured out two capsules, handing them over to you. “You seem fine. But you didn’t go through a full heat. It was just a pre-heat. Your full heat will be in two months.”

“Only a pre-heat…? But it was intense.”

“Mhm. It was. Your body was only getting you ready. You are severely underdeveloped,” she said, her tone turning serious. “I advise you to not have any penetrative sex until your hole… has grown.”

“Grown?”

“Yes. I checked it. It’s too small for an omega. Your cock should also become small as well.”

“What? Wait? I thought male omegas could have dicks?”

“Who told you that? Male omegas are born with dicks but they lose them during their first heat. Then a vagina begins to form and your dick will become a clit. Your hole is there, just too small to be called a vagina at the moment.”

“You weren’t talking about my butt hole..?”

“No.” Hitomi frowned. “Did no one teach you about male omegas? I know they’re rare but they should still teach you all about these things. You need to know your body…” Her lips pursed as if she was in thought before looking over at the door.

You glanced over, wondering if she saw something.

“Ah. Have Riki show you where your hole is. I’m sure you don’t want me touching it.” She said, putting away her materials. “You can also have him help you stretch it. It’ll help with the process.”

“S..Stretch it..?”

“Yes. Finger you. You can always finger yourself but at least let him show you where it is.” With that, she grabbed her MedKit and left the room, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.

Vagina…? Clit...? Fingering?!

You felt lightheaded. All this time, your body was underdeveloped. Your genitalia was a lie this entire time! Your cock was going to turn into a fucking clit!!!

“(Name)? Your scent soured.”

Your body jumped as the door was harshly pushed up, a tense Riki standing in the doorway. His eyes roamed your body—looking for any damage before pausing at your face. He tilted his head, walking over to you as he began to sniff you.

“What? Did my mom tell you bad news?” He asked, his hand reaching up, as if to touch your face but he stopped himself and placed it on your desk. You couldn’t help the slight whimper at that.

“No… No bad news. Just that—well—I’ll be growing a vagina!”

“Huh? You already have one. I saw it when we were in the classroom.”

“Hah?! You saw it?!”

“Mhm. It’s so tiny, I was wondering why it looked like that but I’ve never been with a male omega before.” Riki said nonchalantly, his posture relaxing now that he realized there was nothing wrong. “You’ve never felt it?”

You blushed. “Well, I don’t really masturbate touching myself down there.. just my cock.”

Riki tilted his head as a smirk pulled on his lips. “Mhm? You’ll have to learn the other way soon, your little cock is turning into a clit.” He laughed.

The urge to punch him the face was strong. He felt just like the Riki you met at the sushi restaurant. It was going to take some getting used to with Riki’s personality. It was like he could switch between a sadist and timid puppy.

“Uhm. Your mom.. said that you could help.”

“Help? You want me to touch your pussy?”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked at everything but him. “Don’t call it that!”

“Why can’t I? Is it not a pussy?” Riki grinned as he moved closer, his nose teasing your neck as he leaned down. Your breathing hitched as you subconsciously tilted your head, giving him easy access to your scent gland. “I was sad that I’ll have to wait so long to properly fuck you…”

His hand grasped your crotch, earning a stuttered gasp from you as your body tensed. Your hand gripped the desk behind you for stability as he harshly fondled you. “But fingering you until you get a proper pussy sounds hot. I’ll be making a pussy just for me to touch. For me to fuck. For me to knot whenever I please.”

“Riki…” you gasped. The thought was already intoxicating. Any fear you had about this new body part growing was long gone at the thought of Riki truly molding you into something just for him. You were only disappointed that you’d have to wait so long to get what your body so desperately craves.

Only two month… You can last two months…

“Do you like that? The thought of your body changing itself just from my touch?” He whispered, his hand gripping your cock through your shorts. Your body arched against the desk as you feel your legs part to give Riki easier access.

“Nngh… That’ll… That’ll make me good for Alpha.” You manage to whine, looking up at him with watery eyes. Riki’s eyes widen before he chuckled, pressing a kiss on your neck.

“You’re already a good omega for me, (Name). But I won’t lie and say you getting a pretty pussy won’t make me happy. I can already imagine sinking my fingers inside, stretching you wide before I stuff you with my knot. Would you like that, Omega? My knot stretching you, ruining you for me and only me?”

A strangled cry left your throat as the thought clouded your mind and your hands gripped the desk, your toes curling. Your body felt as if it was spasming until you felt a growing wetness in your shorts.

Riki released your crotch as he glanced down, a laugh leaving his lips. “You came untouched. Did I excite you that much?”

“Shut up.” You weakly whine, wanting to curl up into a ball and die.

“Ahem.”

You and Riki’s body froze as there was a slight knock on the door. There stood Miya, her face unimpressed.

“We are still here, by the way. Maybe close the door if you’re going to start having sex.” She said, “Also there’s breakfast, (Name)… come get it after you take a shower… again.”

This was it. You were going to die of embarrassment.

Riki looked as if he’d seen a ghost. You could tell he must’ve realized his mother heard his dirty talking. Hopefully they didn’t hear everything…

“Uh… We can talk about the whole fingering thing later.” You whispered.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

In front of him, he stood tall, overpowering. His scent was musky—drowning out any other scent in the room. Brown eyes flickered around the living room before settling on a framed picture on the wall near the TV.

You, so young and cute, a wide smile while Miya hugged you tightly against her chest. It was an older picture, around the age of thirteen. Yuzuru was standing behind the both of you, aged eighteen, a small slight smile on his lips. His large circular glasses taking up half of his face.

Daichi looked over Yuzuru now, sitting on the couch across of him. Glasses long gone and smile replaced a tight frown. It was a shame, Daichi thought to himself. Yuzuru was supposedly an omega but looked nothing like it.

He took another look at Yuzuru, wondering how he gained so much weight. Yuzuru wasn’t the stick thin omega he was back in high school. He was fuller, his mother must be over feeding him.

Yuzuru kissed his teeth together, catching Daichi’s attention. “If you’re done scrutinizing me, why are you here?”

Mrs. Furukawa gently patted Yuzuru’s lap, giving him a tight smile. “What Yuzu was saying.. Is what made you want to visit us? It’s been forever.”

Daichi grinned, opening his coat and pulling out an envelope. “It’s nothing special.” He said. “Yuzuru is almost in his late twenties and my colleagues mentioned something about a blind date for omegas to find an alpha. I’m sure… it would be helpful for your case.”

A pin could be dropped as Yuzuru’s eyes widen, his lips parting as his fingers dug into the armchair of the couch. He looked ready to blow, jump across this stupid coffee table and show Daichi what he was made of. But his mother grabbed his arm as she grabbed the envelope from Daichi.

“Is that?” She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.

“Ah. Yes… You have (Name)’s address, yes? I want to talk to him.”

“Why would I willingly give you his address?” Yuzuru muttered.

“Well… It’s been ages since I’ve seen my little brother.. I wanted to check up on him.”

“You can call him.” Yuzuru whispered.

Daichi hummed. “I guess I could. I suppose I wanted to get a better look at you, Yuzuru. Since you seem to be so interested in me these days.”

Yuzuru froze, looking away. He noticed? What the fuck?

With the tension tight and heavy, Daichi left without another word.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were gently drying your hair when you grabbed your phone off the night stand. There was texts and emails that you didn’t care too much about responding to except one from a number you didn’t recognize.

It was just a picture that they sent.

You clicked on the picture and felt the color drain from your face.

It wasn’t just one picture. It was two.

One picture of an ultrasound.

And another of a wedding.

Daichi and a woman you’ve seen before.

But she was an omega… Why would someone like Daichi marry her?

But that wasn’t the most important thing you cared about. No, you cared more about who she was. Who she was before supposedly becoming Daichi’s wife, his mate.

Naoki’s ex girlfriend.

Sorry for the wait! I just recently moved to my college dorms, forgot to write lol. Hopefully it won’t take too long for chapter 3, there will be actual smut in that one, trust.. ask to be added to the tag list for riki’s story. Some people don’t show up when I try to tag them tho, sorry about that :/ also there’s a limit smh

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @lanoslamp @sweetheart4you @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @remdayz @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @chososlittlestuttyboy @terapung @gay4letti @lixamplanet @oreoqueen @1account2blogs @hnazwan @blaxvoid @theorye @yanrandom @berrycolaa @darlinqvi @diamondnightsky23 @yourn0tmydad @https-tan-com @kiekole @cinder-angel @yuzuukix @sugar-p0p @anime-meme-sanctuary @caffineandoranges @barbatos-mybeloved @gaynesspersonified @sheepame @snowtiger00 @kgeyamaa @teoluvsyou @chweuphoria @sooobiinn @hope0o0 @yoon-zino @mef0rg0r @gojosdumpydump @me-when-life

Translations:

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞ — brother, why didn’t you protect me?

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞ — why? It’s painful, Naoki

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

1K notes · View notes

hypewinter · 10 months ago

Note

Danny can no longer Go Ghost. Oh his powers work perfectly fine, but whenever he tries to transform, it seems as if the universe itself is screaming and begging him to not transform

So he goes to Clockwork who explains that Phantom has simply grown too powerful and that Danny simply needs to empower someone to act in his stead like an avatar

Unfortunately, Danny can't really choose anyone he knows. Tucker is not responsible with powers and the less is said about an empowered Sam, the better

It'd be absolutely hilarious if the avatar gets selected via a tournament arc. I imagine it wasn't Danny's idea but he was taking too long since he didn't want to burden anyone with this responsibility leading to the Observants deciding they'll take care of it. Cue all of Earth's heroes being summoned to an arena and told to fight until a victor is crowned. Really? This again? They all collectively groan. Meanwhile Danny is blissfully unaware of what's going on as he's back at the Clocktower trying to figure out the best candidate (the Observants thought they'd gain favor if they just surprised him with a new avatar).

I'm not honestly too sure how the tournament itself would turn out. Maybe the heroes would go along with it until they could figure out just what the reason for the tournament is this time. Maybe they would immediately jump to revolt. Punch first, ask questions later and all that. I could go either way to be honest.

All I really want is for the heroes to bust down the door and confront Danny about this whole tournament, ready to take down another crazy in power, only for this painful sleep deprived child to blink up at them, "What tournament?"

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x marvel #because why not?#winter answers #thanks for the ask!#oh!#i just thought of a kinda angst route too #danny shows up at the hall of justice begging for the heroes's help #he refuses to give this power to just anyone and he's especially not going to give it to his inner circle for a variety of reasons #but he needs to give it to someone and he needs to give it now #because while he can still use his powers without his ghost form #they're not as effective #and the giw plus his more aggressive rouges have noticed

1K notes · View notes

swordsandholly · 9 months ago

Text

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

1K notes · View notes

flwrkid14 · 2 months ago

Text

Letters in Green Ink: Phantom's Footsteps on Gotham's Rooftops

Tim Drake was no stranger to paranoia. It was practically a job requirement in Gotham. But this? This was getting weird.

It started small: the feeling of being watched on rooftops, a shadow a little too close. Harmless, at first. But then the sticky notes began.

Random, anonymous sticky notes. Clues he’d missed. Addresses for gang hideouts. Details on corrupt businessmen.

He found one on his motorcycle seat. Another on the Batcomputer. A bright green note scrawled with:

“Check the docks. Midnight.”

Tim had learned to trust his gut, and his gut was screaming: This is not normal.

---------------

Meanwhile, in another corner of Gotham:

Danny Fenton was hovering invisibly above a warehouse, nervously biting his lip. He was shaking. Not because he was scared of Gotham’s criminals. Nope. The real danger? Red Robin’s eyes.

Danny: internal screaming 'Why did I think this was a good idea?'

Also Danny: hovering invisibly above Tim, whispering to himself: “Okay, Danny. You’re helping. You’re useful. He doesn’t need to know you’re a stalker. A cool stalker. Like a… guardian angel! Yes. Totally fine. Not creepy at all.”

---------------

Tim, mid-stakeout, could feel the eyes. Again. He spun around, batarang ready. Nothing. Just empty shadows. The wind.

He scowled. “Alright, whoever you are. You’re getting annoying.”

---------------

Danny floated a few rooftops away, clutching his chest. “Oh my god, he spoke. And he’s mad. Why is that hot?”

He watched as Red Robin took down three thugs single-handedly. His fighting was brutal, efficient. Danny, invisible and swooning, whispered: “He’s so cool.”

---------------

The next night: a bust gone sideways. Tim found himself cornered by more goons than expected, already calculating the least-bad injury. Then, out of nowhere, a ghostly chill swept through the alley.

Blowtorch thug? Frozen solid.

Gunman? Knocked out cold.

And there, floating in the moonlight, glowing white hair and intense green eyes: Phantom.

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “You. You’re the one who’s been—”

Phantom blinked, stammered, “Uh, gotta go!” and vanished like a startled deer.

---------------

Back in his lair (aka an abandoned Gotham clocktower because aesthetic™️), Danny spiraled. “He saw me. He saw me! Oh god, why did I freeze that guy? Cool guys don’t freeze goons.”

Jazz’s voice in his head: “Danny, you have to stop.”

Danny: “I CAN’T, JAZZ. HE’S TOO PRETTY.”

---------------

Tim was in full detective mode. Batman-level scowling. “Phantom. Ghost powers. Clearly interested in my cases. Why?”

He scanned the city. Ran searches. No results.

But the sticky notes kept coming.

“Check the East End warehouse. 10pm.”

“Watch out for the armored guy. He has backup.”

Tim didn’t know what was more frustrating: the lack of information, or the fact that Phantom was always right.

---------------

Finally, one night, Tim cornered him. Literally. Phantom turned a corner and smacked into Red Robin. Hard.

Tim crossed his arms. “Alright. Talk.”

Danny, blushing so hard his glow flickered. “Uh… hi.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Why are you following me?”

Danny, brain short-circuiting: “I LIKE YOUR… uh, CAPE.”

Tim blinked. “My cape.”

Danny nodded furiously. “It’s… cool. Flowy.”

Tim stared. Silence stretched. Then: “You’re helping me.”

Danny swallowed. “Um. Yeah?”

Tim’s voice softened. “Why?”

Danny, panicking, blurted: “Because I like you!”

---------------

Silence.

Tim’s brain: Error 404.

Danny: contemplating phasing into the floor.

Finally, Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You… are the most chaotic stalker I’ve ever had.”

Danny, grinning nervously: “So, um. Friends?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “We’ll start with coworkers.”

---------------

Danny, flying away, fist-pumping in the air: “He didn’t say no!”

Tim, watching him go, muttering: “I need coffee. And maybe an exorcist.”

#tim drake #danny phantom #brain dead #dead tired #danny fenton #dc x dp #Danny has a crush on red robin and the only way he can express it is by taking care of him #this means he stalks red robin on all his patroles and makes sure he's always safe #tim is extremely paranoid at first but then he meets phantom and fuck is he pretty #how could such a pretty boy like him? phantom looks like he was sculpted by the gods and he cares so much for tim and looks out for him and #fuck he's already crushing on the guy isn't he? oh well #can you really blame him?

902 notes · View notes

lovemebutleavemewild · 4 months ago

Text

The term "barrack's bunny" is probably offensive but as a quick way of describing your taste in men, it kind of works.

You like soldiers. A specific type of soldier, though. Not the young recruits who are rowdy and uncouth and don't know how to act. Not the stern pot-bellied paper pushers or the career types who spend more time polishing medals and rubbing shoulders than they do on the field, either.

No, the soldiers you like have experience. In all the aspects that matter. They're few and far between but when you find a good one ...

The 141 are perfect examples. They're the reason you've stuck close to this particular base for the last few months. You've never actually seen them, of course, and you've only heard whispers about them, but if the rumours are true, they're back on base, which means you're in the nearest bar, scoping out the scene, waiting.

It's starting to look like a bust. You've had three drinks, turned down four men, and are just getting bored when a new prospect slides into the tight space at the bar next to you.

He catches your eye, looking away, then quickly back. You see him look you quickly up and down and smile.

"Hi," he says. You smile back.

"Kyle Garrick," he says, holding out a hand, and you smile wider. Oh yes, you think, the rumours were right.

Kyle is just offering to buy you a drink when you're jostled from behind. He reaches out to steady you and you find yourself pressed to his chest.

"Soap, you idiot," he chastises and you twist your head to see who he's talking to. Another impossibly huge man is grinning down at you, seemingly unapologetic.

"Hello," he says. "M'name's Johnny. Where did Gaz find you?"

Things move quickly after that. You like a flirt, a tease as much as the next girl, but you know what you came here for and you've already waited long enough.

The three of you end up in a dark corner of the bar, squeezed into one side of a booth, and when Kyle kisses you, you lean into him. He's all hard lips, pulling back to feel you chase him, just to dive back in, again and again, leaving you hungry, always, for more.

In contrast, Soap's kisses are wet, messy. He doesn't pull away from you, even when it means he ends up panting heavily right into your face. When the two lean into you together, it's dizzying. You pull back, needing a second to just breathe and they barely seem to notice, crashing into each other instead. They're rougher when it's just the two of them, nipping, fighting for dominance. And meanwhile, as though without thinking, their hands squeeze your soft thighs and stomach.

You gasp when Soap's hand slips up under your skirt, looking around automatically. No one is looking in your direction; the corner you're in is so dimly lit you don't think you could see the next table over, even if weren't empty.

When you look back, Johnny is staring at you, eyes hooded. He keeps eye contact as he slips his hand further up, brushing over your panties, smirking when you squirm. And then they're slipping under your panties, pressing in and you have to close your eyes.

You feel hot breath on your ear and hear Kyle's voice.

"Give us one here, doll, show us how good you can be, and we'll take you home to give you the rest."

His hand joins Johnny's, rubbing circles on your clit and your head falls back. They start kissing you again but you don't even have the mental energy to kiss them back. Your brain seems to have dribbled out of your ears onto the cracked vinyl. They kiss you anyway, until your face is slick with their spit.

And you give them your first orgasm of the night right there, shuddering against them. If you could care about such things, you'd be glad the music was loud so no one could hear your moans. When you can force your eyes open, you blink at Gaz. He smiles sweetly before taking Johnny's hand. You just have time to focus on the sheen of yourself on his digits before he's sucking them into his mouth.

"Ready to get out of here, love?" he asks and you nod, dazed, letting him pull you up. You're nearly limp against him and he supports you with an arm around your waist. Distantly, you hear Johnny chuckle. You instinctively push back when he presses against your back, tilting your head back to receive his mouth at your ear. He nips it teasingly and his whisper sends a full-body shudder through you.

"Oh, Price and Ghost are gonna love you."

889 notes · View notes

prismuffin · 4 months ago

Note

Heya i wanted to do an ask about how batman, superman, green lantern, flash would react to a magic user reader who prefers using a gun. Like his spell book is just floating beside him in battle open but he just uses his gun instead.

Also i hope u have great day :3

Let’s do a classic DC ask as a small comeback! Anyways I think that-

Batman would have expected you to show him up a bit, like Constantine has before. But when in battle the last thing he expected you to do was pull out a fucking gun??? You had your spell book floating beside you as you came to his aid, it let out an ethereal glow that exuded power, surely you were going to release some pretty potent magic right? Welp forget all that, you just straight up shot the guy you were fighting. He found it quite humorous and after the fight he immediately asked what the gun was all about. You said you had to catch the guy off guard, saying that you found it more straightforward than using magic all the time, especially since that can be taxing at times, and he wasn’t worth the small fatigue that would’ve plagued you afterward. Every time he sees you just pull out a gun rather than using magic he can’t help but find it a bit amusing.

Superman would be rather shocked to see you suddenly pull out a gun. I mean, he gets it if you were too tired or if it was a last resort but your spell book was floating right beside you, still open and ready to be channeled. He wondered why you would handicap yourself, surely your spells are much stronger than any old lead bullet. After the fight he’d question you on it, and when you said it was just more practical and less mentally taxing he’d still suggest that you should use your strong spells since that’s what makes you such a good fighter. You decided to prove him wrong by only using your gun for the rest of that mission, also just to tease him a bit.

Hal would be genuinely confused. He’d also be somewhat concerned, had you overworked yourself and now this was your last resort? He’d let out a chuckle as he asked what the hell you were doing mid-fight. You just said that these goons were starting to piss you off and he was suddenly a little more scared of you. You were already pretty powerful with your spells but to know that when you get angry or annoyed this is what you resort to, had him a little fearful. At least he knows not to get on your bad side.

Barry would straight up bust out laughing as soon as he saw you say fuck it and just start shooting. He’d stop mid-fight just to laugh, speaking between his laughter and only speeding to get away from some of the guys that were trying to fight or shoot him as he questioned out loud why you just did that. You couldn’t help but smirk before saying that these guys were so bad it wasn’t even worth the effort of using any of your spells. He agreed with you, saying that he was barely even speeding to get away from these dudes. You both just kept bashing on their fighting styles and aim as you took them out without even trying for the most part. You two left that mission laughing at the lack of effort it took, he’ll never get over you just defaulting back to using a gun in a fight it’s the funniest thing to him.

———

I miss writing :)

Directory

617 notes · View notes

lila-lou · 1 month ago

Text

✨Double Trouble✨

Summary: Christmas in the bunker was supposed to be quiet. With the twins finally in bed, Dean and you were ready to enjoy a little “grown-up time”. But as always with these two, nothing went as planned.

-Christmas Special-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 9734

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

The bunker was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came on Christmas Eve when all the excitement of the day had simmered into the promise of tomorrow. You should’ve known better than to trust your five-year-old twins, Ellie and Jake, to stay in bed. But Dean had insisted, grinning ear-to-ear, that they’d be too tired from all the snowball fights and cookie decorating to cause any mischief.

Apparently, that grin lied.

You were leaning against the counter in the kitchen, enjoying the brief silence. The soft glow of the string lights you’d hung around the bunker shimmered faintly, casting a warm, cozy light over the room. It was moments like these—rare, fleeting moments—that made everything else worth it. The chaos, the hunting, the danger. This was home.

Dean walked in quietly, brushing flour off his dark flannel, his hair slightly disheveled. He still had that boyish grin, the one that had charmed you all those years ago and hadn’t lost its effect. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there for a moment, watching you. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze making your cheeks flush.

“Hey,”, he said softly, his voice warm, as he crossed the kitchen toward you.

“Hey yourself”, you replied, smiling at him as he closed the distance between you.

“You look too calm”, he teased, resting a hand on the counter beside you and leaning in slightly. “Makes me think you’re plotting something”.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “For once, no. Just enjoying the quiet while it lasts”.

Dean smirked, his other hand slipping around your waist. “Quiet doesn’t last long around here. Might as well make the most of it”.

Before you could reply, he leaned in and kissed you, soft at first, then deeper, his lips warm and familiar. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and the tension of the day melted away in an instant. For a moment, it was just the two of you—no monsters, no apocalypse-level threats, no five-year-old twins who could rival Sam and Dean in sheer determination. Just you and him.

You smiled against his lips when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “What’s that for?”, you whispered, still feeling the warmth of him surrounding you.

Dean shrugged, though his smirk deepened. “Do I need a reason to kiss my wife?”.

“Guess not”, you murmured, sliding your hands up to rest on his shoulders. “Not that I’m complaining”.

“Better not”, he teased, his tone light. “Otherwise, I’ll have to—”.

Before he could finish, the sound of not-so-stealthy giggling reached you both from the hallway. Dean pulled back slightly, frowning in mock annoyance. “You hear that?”, he whispered, though the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

“I hear it”, you replied, sighing as you glanced toward the doorway. “And I think I know exactly who it is”.

Dean smirked, his hands still resting on your waist. “Think we should let ‘em sweat it out, or should we just go ahead and bust them?”.

“Let’s see how far they’re willing to take this”, you said, grinning as you leaned against him.

Before either of you could move, Ellie’s little blonde head peeked around the corner, quickly followed by Jake’s. They froze when they realized they’d been caught, their identical green eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and amusement.

“Uh-oh”, Jake whispered, elbowing his sister. “Run?”.

Ellie shook her head, whispering back loudly, “No, we gotta play it cool!”.

Dean chuckled, letting his hands drop as he turned toward the doorway. “Alright, you two little troublemakers”, he said, his voice carrying just enough mock sternness to make them squirm. “What are you doing out of bed?”.

Ellie straightened her spine, clearly deciding to be the spokesperson for their operation. “We were just… making sure Santa didn’t need any help”, she said, her small chin lifting with determination.

Jake nodded vigorously. “Yeah, ‘cause, you know, Christmas is important”.

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at you as he leaned back against the counter. The corners of his mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. “Uh-huh. And what’s so important about sneaking through the bunker in the middle of the night?”.

Ellie’s confidence faltered just slightly, and Jake’s gaze darted to the floor. They exchanged a quick, silent sibling look before Ellie blurted out, “We were looking for presents!”.

Dean groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face, though the twinkle in his eye gave him away. “Of course you were. You two are worse than I was at your age”.

“Got that right”. you muttered under your breath, earning a smirk from him.

“Did you find anything?”, Dean asked, crouching slightly to look them in the eye.

“Nooo”, Jake admitted, dragging out the word. “But we did see you kissing Mom, so… ew”.

Ellie wrinkled her nose in agreement. “So gross”.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at the twins. They were a whirlwind of mischief wrapped in innocence, and as much as they drove you and Dean crazy, you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Ellie and Jake padded into the kitchen, their tiny feet barely making a sound against the bunker’s cool floor. Their sheepish grins betrayed their earlier bravado, and you were just about to send them back to bed when another figure appeared in the doorway.

Sam.

He looked like he had just fallen out of bed, his hair a mess, and his flannel pajamas slightly askew. His face carried the same half-annoyed, half-amused expression he always wore when dealing with his niece and nephew’s antics.

“Let me guess”, Sam said, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. “The dynamic duo strikes again?”.

Dean smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “What gave it away, Sammy? The giggling or the fact that it’s two in the morning?”.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “I was hoping they’d finally give you guys a break. Especially after the sugar high they’ve been on all day”.

Jake piped up, “We weren’t doing anything bad, Uncle Sam!”.

Ellie nodded in agreement, tugging on Sam’s sleeve as if to convince him. “Yeah! We were just making sure Santa’s okay!”.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking down at them skeptically. “Uh-huh. And you thought Santa was hiding in the bunker kitchen?”.

Dean snorted, clearly enjoying the show. “Give ‘em some credit, Sammy. At least they’re committed”.

Meanwhile, Sam’s son, Caleb, was notably absent, which didn’t escape Dean’s notice. “And where’s the little angel?”, Dean asked, glancing behind Sam. “Still tucked in, dreaming about saving kittens or whatever perfect kids dream about?”.

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a smirk. “He’s asleep, like a normal kids. Not wandering around trying to play detective”.

“Pfft”, Dean said, waving a dismissive hand. “He’s just too scared to get caught. These two? Fearless”.

Ellie beamed at the backhanded compliment, while Jake puffed out his chest, clearly proud of their escapade. You shook your head, stepping in before they got any more ideas.

“Alright, enough”, you said firmly, placing your hands on your hips. “Ellie, Jake, back to bed. Now”.

“But Moooom!”, they whined in unison, dragging out the word as though it might change your mind.

Dean, however, backed you up, straightening to his full height and putting on his best stern-dad face. “Don’t ‘but Mom’ her. Get your butts in bed before Santa really skips over the bunker”.

The twins’ eyes widened, and Ellie clutched Jake’s arm. “He won’t skip us, will he?”, she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

“That depends on how fast you get to bed”, Dean replied, pointing toward the hallway.

That was all it took. They scurried out of the kitchen, their little footsteps echoing down the hall as they whispered frantically about whether Santa had heard them.

Once they were gone, the silence returned, broken only by the low hum of the bunker’s lights. Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You guys have your hands full”.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, you could’ve had twins too, but nooo, you got lucky with Mr. Perfect”.

Sam smirked. “Caleb’s not perfect, he’s just… well-behaved”.

Dean shot him a mock glare. “Same thing. Next time, send him over here. Maybe some of that ‘well-behaved’ will rub off”.

“Doubt it”, Sam said dryly.

Just as Sam turned to head back to his room, the sound of tiny, pattering footsteps echoed back down the hall. You sighed, already knowing who it was before Ellie and Jake reappeared in the doorway, their little faces full of a mix of defiance and something you recognized as an attempt at innocence.

Sam stopped in his tracks and turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you two just get sent to bed?”.

Ellie, clutching her favorite stuffed animal—a well-loved bunny missing one ear—padded straight toward you. “Mommy, we can’t sleep”, she said softly, her green eyes wide and pleading as she held out her little hands toward you.

Jake nodded behind her, trying to look equally earnest, though his mischievous smirk ruined the act. “Yeah, we need another story. Just one more”.

Sam let out a low snort, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “I’ll say it again—you guys have your hands full”.

Dean groaned, running a hand over his face, though you could see the small, fond smile tugging at his lips. “You two are the worst negotiators ever”, he said, though there was no real heat in his tone. “Didn’t we read you a story already?”.

Ellie nodded solemnly. “But it wasn’t enough”, she said, her little voice trembling like she was delivering the most heartbreaking news. “I can’t sleep”.

Ellie had been having trouble sleeping the past few nights, and it didn’t take much to see the shadows of her recent restlessness in the way she clung to you now. Jake, you suspected, was just along for the ride, but Ellie’s unease was genuine.

You knelt down and gently scooped Ellie up, settling her on your hip with ease. She wrapped her little arms around your neck and rested her head against your shoulder, her well-loved bunny clutched tightly in one hand. She was already five, and you knew these moments wouldn’t last forever. Soon enough, she’d be too big to carry like this, but for now, you held her close, savoring her warmth and the soft scent of her shampoo.

“It’s okay, baby”, you murmured, running a hand soothingly over her back. “Mommy’s got you”.

Ellie sighed, her tiny body relaxing against yours. “I don’t wanna have bad dreams”, she whispered, her voice trembling.

Dean’s teasing expression softened instantly, and he stepped closer, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Ellie’s face. “No bad dreams tonight, kiddo”, he said gently. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s getting past me and your mom, okay?”.

Ellie nodded but didn’t lift her head, snuggling further into your shoulder. You kissed the top of her head and glanced at Jake, who stood nearby with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pajama pants, looking both sheepish and protective.

“And you, mister”, you said, giving Jake a soft smile, “are you here to keep your sister company?”.

Jake shrugged, his little smirk reappearing. “She doesn’t like being alone”, he admitted. “And I didn’t want her to cry”.

Dean chuckled, ruffling Jake’s hair. “Good man”, he said. “But you’re still going back to bed after this story”.

Jake rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, his smirk growing as he stepped closer to rest his hand on your arm, as if to reassure Ellie without saying anything.

Sam, who had been leaning silently against the doorway, let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “You’re raising a couple of night owls, you know that?”.

Dean shot him a mock glare. “Yeah, thanks for the observation, Mr. Perfect-Kid. You can go back to your room now”.

“Gladly”, Sam replied with a smirk, pushing off the doorway. “Good luck with bedtime round two. Merry Christmas”.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Sam”, Jake called after him, earning another chuckle from Sam as he disappeared down the hallway.

With Sam gone, Dean turned his attention back to you and the kids. He reached out and gently took Ellie from your arms, shifting her easily onto his hip as if she weighed nothing. She yawned and leaned her head against his shoulder, her bunny dangling from her fingers.

“Alright”, Dean said, his voice soft but firm. “One more story. But that’s it. No excuses this time. Deal?”.

Ellie nodded, her fingers clutching the collar of Dean’s flannel. “Deal”, she mumbled.

Jake gave a little salute, his smirk still intact. “Deal”.

Dean shot you a knowing look, his lips twitching in a half-smile. “You coming, or do I have to tell this story solo?”.

“I’m coming”, you said, laughing softly as you followed them back to the kids’ room. Jake scampered ahead, already climbing into his bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. Dean sat down on the edge of Ellie’s bed, still holding her as she blinked sleepily up at him.

“What story tonight?”, Dean asked, his voice quieter now.

Ellie mumbled something about heroes again, her words barely audible, and Jake chimed in with, “And monsters! But the good guys win, like always”.

Dean smirked, glancing at you as you settled into the chair beside Ellie’s bed. “Heroes and monsters, huh? You kids are gonna grow up thinking hunting is some kind of fairy tale”.

“Not fairy tales”, Jake corrected, his grin wide. “Adventures”.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, adventures it is”. He adjusted Ellie in his lap, holding her close as he launched into one of his and Sam’s hunts—toned down, of course, with a few embellishments to make it sound like a grand, thrilling tale.

Ellie’s eyes grew heavier with every word, and Jake, though fighting it, began to yawn halfway through the story. By the time Dean finished, Ellie was fast asleep, her bunny tucked under her chin, and Jake was dozing, his head resting on his pillow.

Dean carefully laid Ellie down and pulled the blanket up around her, tucking her in snugly before standing. You leaned over to press a kiss to Jake’s forehead, smoothing his hair back gently.

The next morning, you stirred slightly, still wrapped in the warmth of the bed and the familiar weight of Dean’s arm draped across your waist. You were half-asleep, lost in the haze of early morning, when you felt the soft brush of lips against your cheek.

Dean was awake.

His kisses started gentle, barely brushing against your skin, before growing more deliberate. His lips moved from your cheek to your jawline, lingering there for a moment, warm and lazy. His scruff tickled slightly as his mouth trailed down to the curve of your neck. A soft, open-mouthed kiss followed, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Morning”, he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with sleep.

You made a small sound in response, still too drowsy to form words. Dean chuckled softly, the deep rumble vibrating through his chest as his hand began to move, sliding slowly down from your waist to the hem of the shirt you were wearing—his old, worn AC/DC shirt that barely grazed mid-thigh.

His fingers brushed against the fabric lightly, teasingly, before slipping just underneath, grazing your bare skin. His touch was warm, deliberate, and achingly slow as his hand traveled along your hip.

“Dean…”, you mumbled, your voice still groggy but laced with amusement and warmth.

“Hm?”, he replied, his lips pressing another lazy kiss just below your ear. “Kids are still asleep. We’ve got time”.

You smiled faintly, your eyes still closed as you leaned into his touch. “Barely. They’ll be up in an hour”.

“An hour’s plenty”, he murmured, his hand sliding further under the shirt as his lips found your neck again, kissing a little more firmly this time. His thumb traced gentle circles against your hip, the touch soothing and tantalizing all at once.

You turned your head slightly, your nose brushing against his. “You’re really risking it, Winchester”.

Dean grinned, his mouth brushing yours in a kiss that was as playful as it was intimate. “Worth the risk”, he said, his voice low and teasing. “Besides, it’s Christmas. Can’t I wake my wife up with a little holiday cheer?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, finally opening your eyes to see his face inches from yours. His green eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint, his smile equal parts boyish charm and devilish intent.

“You’re impossible”, you said, your voice carrying no real conviction as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“And yet”, he replied, his grin widening as his hand skimmed up your thigh, “you love me anyway”.

“Lucky for you”, you teased, pulling him down into a kiss.

Dean’s smirk deepened as he shifted himself between your legs, the soft fabric of his sweatpants already discarded on the floor. His movements were unhurried, his hands warm and steady as they slid along your thighs, gently spreading them apart. The teasing, deliberate way he pulled your panties aside made your breath hitch, his knuckles grazing your skin as he moved.

He leaned down, his forehead brushing yours, his lips hovering just a breath away as he locked eyes with you. His green eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and tenderness, the corners crinkling slightly as he grinned.

“Attempt number three for baby number three?”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His swollen tip brushed against your folds, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. He paused, grinning even wider as he added, “Or should I just wrap myself up? Merry Christmas and all”.

You snorted softly, shaking your head against the pillow. "You're ridiculous", you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep, but the corner of your lips twitched in amusement.

Dean's grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider. He nudged against you with his tip, teasingly brushing against your folds, just enough to make your breath hitch. His hands rested firmly on your thighs, his thumbs brushing against your skin in slow, lazy circles.

"You better answer", he murmured, his voice low and thick with that familiar playful edge, "or I’ll decide for myself". He dipped his head, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. "And as you know", he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I hate being wrapped up".

A soft laugh bubbled from your lips, your hands sliding to his shoulders as you looked up at him, your gaze warm despite the teasing frustration in your tone. "Oh, poor you", you said, your fingers curling slightly against his skin. "Such a hardship".

Dean chuckled, his lips grazing your collarbone as he pressed closer, his weight settling against you in that perfect, familiar way. "Yeah, it is", he muttered, his tone mock-serious. He nudged against you again, this time with a bit more pressure, his breath hitching slightly as he felt you respond.

"Dean", you whispered, your voice soft but filled with equal parts exasperation and affection.

He rested his forehead against yours, his voice softer now as he murmured, "So, what’s it gonna be? Option one or option two?".

You sighed dramatically, though the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. "Fine", you said, your hands sliding to rest on his lower back. "Let’s try for number three".

Dean’s grin widened, and he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one filled with both triumph and affection. "That’s my girl".

Dean’s grin softened as he aligned himself, his eyes locked on yours, searching your face as if committing every detail to memory. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed forward, his swollen tip parting you with a gentle ease. His movements were unhurried, savoring the moment as he sunk deeper, a quiet grunt escaping his lips.

His forehead rested against yours, his breaths mingling with yours, warm and steady. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his hand sliding up your thigh to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing tender circles against your skin. Then, his lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss that was both soft and consuming, filled with a love that ran deeper than words.

Your hands moved to his back, your fingers curling against his warm skin as he began to move, his hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His quiet groans mixed with your soft gasps, the two of you melting into each other in the quiet stillness of the morning. His lips stayed on yours, sometimes breaking away to trail kisses along your jaw or murmur your name in that low, gravelly voice that always made your heart flutter.

Dean’s hand slid from your hip to lace his fingers with yours, pinning your hand gently beside your head as his pace remained slow and steady. He kissed you again, his lips lingering this time, his breath catching slightly as he pressed deeper, his movements careful yet filled with passion.

Dean’s movements were deliberate, his hips rocking against you with a rhythm that was uniquely his—something so unhurried yet devastatingly precise. It wasn’t rushed or frantic; it was intimate, passionate, and filled with a kind of love and care that only Dean could give. Each thrust was measured, purposeful, his body moving with yours as though the two of you had been perfectly designed to fit together.

You felt his breath against your skin, warm and steady, as his lips traced a path along your jawline and down your neck. His low groans vibrated against your skin, sending waves of warmth coursing through you. He tilted his hips slightly, the angle changing just enough to send sparks of pleasure radiating from your core. Dean’s name fell from your lips in a breathless gasp, and his mouth curved into a grin against your neck.

“Right there, huh?”, he murmured, his voice husky and low, as his movements became more deliberate. He hit that perfect spot again, and your back arched off the bed, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. It was maddening how he could find it every time, how he knew your body so intimately after all these years.

Dean pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes blazing with intensity as he watched your reactions. “You’re so beautiful like this”, he whispered, his lips brushing yours. “Every time. Always”.

The way he said it, the raw honesty in his voice, made your chest tighten with emotion even as the pleasure built inside you, overwhelming and all-consuming. Your legs tightened around him instinctively, pulling him deeper, and he let out a quiet groan, his forehead pressing to yours as his hips rocked against you with just a little more force.

Dean’s grin widened, a flicker of pride flashing in his eyes as he felt your body respond to him, just like it always did. He knew exactly what he was doing, and his ego absolutely thrived on it. He never rushed, never stumbled—his confidence in how to handle you was unshakable, and it was maddeningly effective. He knew how to make you come, how to unravel you completely, and for him, it was almost too easy.

His hips pressed deeper, rolling against yours with deliberate precision, each thrust brushing that perfect spot inside you that had your breath catching and your nails digging into his shoulders. Dean’s quiet groans mixed with the soft sounds escaping your lips, and he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his mouth.

“Look at you”, he murmured, his voice thick with a mix of teasing and reverence. “Already so close, aren’t you? Always so easy for me”. His words weren’t taunting—they were filled with a heady mix of love and cocky pride, the kind only Dean could pull off.

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, to come up with some smart remark, but all that came out was a broken gasp as his hips shifted slightly, hitting you even deeper. He chuckled softly, his lips trailing along your neck, leaving warm kisses in his wake.

“That’s right”, he whispered, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he kissed you deeply, swallowing the sounds you made. “Let go for me, sweetheart. I’ve got you”.

It wasn’t just his words or his touch—it was the way he looked at you, his green eyes locked on yours as though you were the only thing that existed in the world. It was the way he moved, deliberate and passionate, completely focused on you. It was everything about him, all at once, that pushed you over the edge.

Your body tightened around him, a cry escaping your lips as the orgasm crashed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Dean’s hips stuttered slightly as as he worked you through it. His breathing grew heavier, his quiet groans vibrating against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He pressed deeper, his rhythm faltering as he gave in, a low, guttural sound escaping him as he spilled inside you.

The tension in his body melted away as he stilled, his forehead resting against your shoulder. His chest heaved against yours, his warm breath tickling your skin as he whispered your name, almost reverently. He stayed like that for a moment, his weight comforting and grounding, his hand lazily brushing along your side.

Slowly, he lifted his head, his green eyes soft as they found yours. His lips curved into a tired but satisfied grin, the kind that was uniquely Dean—equal parts smug and adoring.

“Now that”, he said, his voice still rough with lingering passion, “was a hell of a way to start Christmas”.

You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that bubbled up, your hands sliding to rest against his shoulders. “And here I thought the kids opening presents was supposed to be the highlight of the day”.

Dean smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, this one slow and sweet, a stark contrast to the fire from moments before. “They can wait”, he murmured against your mouth, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “This is my highlight”.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “You’re impossible, Winchester”.

“And yet”, he teased, grinning as he kissed you again, “you still married me”.

The two of you were still tangled in the quiet aftermath, basking in the warmth of each other, when the sound of Sam’s frustrated voice carried down the hallway.

“Ellie! Jake!”, Sam’s tone was exasperated, yet with that trademark calmness he always managed to maintain, even in chaos. “How many times do I have to tell you—stop hiding my toothbrush!”.

Dean groaned, dropping his head back against the pillow with a dramatic sigh. “And there goes the peace”, he muttered, though his smirk said he wasn’t entirely annoyed.

You stifled a laugh, pressing your hand over your mouth as Sam’s voice grew closer, clearly still trying to track down the culprits. “What do you think the odds are that they’ll deny it this time?”, you asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

Dean chuckled, sitting up slightly to rest on his elbows. “Oh, they’ll deny it. And then Jake’ll throw Ellie under the bus”.

Before you could reply, another voice joined the commotion in the hallway—Caleb’s, Sam’s ten-year-old son. “Dad!”, Caleb called, his tone half-annoyed, half-panicked. “I can’t find my toothbrush either! Did they take mine too?”.

Dean let out a full laugh now, shaking his head as he glanced over at you. “Well, guess we know what they’ve been up to”.

You snorted, sliding out from under the blanket and reaching for the nearest shirt—still Dean’s, of course. “Should we intervene, or let Sam handle it?”.

Dean leaned back lazily, folding his arms behind his head, his smirk wide. “Let him handle it. He’s got this”.

The sound of Ellie and Jake’s giggling reached your ears next, along with Sam’s resigned sigh. “Guys, this is the third time this week. I need my toothbrush. And Caleb needs his, too. Just tell me where you hid them”.

Ellie’s voice piped up, cheerful and completely unrepentant. “We didn’t hide it, Uncle Sam! Maybe the monsters took it”.

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his sweatpants as he grinned at you. “Guess I should go rescue Sammy before he loses it completely”.

You laughed, grabbing his arm before he could get up. “You’ll just make it worse, and you know it”.

“Exactly”, Dean said, his grin widening. “What’s Christmas without a little chaos?”.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling as the sound of the kids’ laughter and Sam’s exasperated attempts to rein them in filled the bunker. It was chaotic, sure, but it was also home.

Dean swung the bedroom door open, stepping out into the hallway wearing nothing but his sweatpants. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and his smirk was firmly in place as he leaned against the doorframe. His bare chest caught the dim light of the bunker, and his presence immediately drew the attention of everyone in the hallway.

Sam stood there, arms crossed, his expression a mix of exasperation and long-suffering patience. Ellie and Jake were huddled together just a few feet away, their faces plastered with matching innocent grins that Dean could see through in an instant. Caleb, already taller and more composed than most ten-year-olds, stood off to the side with his hands on his hips, looking equally annoyed and amused.

Dean raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as his eyes landed on his twins. “Alright”, he drawled, his voice still rough from sleep. “Who’s messing with Uncle Sammy’s toothbrush this time?”.

Ellie giggled, clutching her bunny closer to her chest as she tried to look innocent. “Not me!”, she chirped, her tone far too cheerful to be convincing.

Jake, true to Dean’s earlier prediction, pointed at Ellie without hesitation. “She did it!”, he declared, his voice a little too eager. “I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen”.

“Jake!”, Ellie squeaked, her eyes wide with mock betrayal. “That’s not true!”.

Dean sighted, running a hand through his messy hair as he stepped closer.

Jake pouted, crossing his arms. “I didn’t do it! It was her idea this time!”.

Caleb groaned, clearly fed up with the entire situation. “I just want my toothbrush back”, he muttered, looking at his cousins with a raised eyebrow. “You can’t keep stealing them!”.

Sam shot Dean a pointed look, his expression screaming control your kids. Dean just grinned back, completely unfazed. “Alright, alright”, he said, holding up his hands. “Let’s cut a deal. You two”, he pointed at Ellie and Jake, “tell Uncle Sam and Caleb where the toothbrushes are, and maybe Santa doesn’t hear about this little stunt”.

Ellie’s eyes widened, and she clutched her bunny even tighter. “You wouldn’t tell Santa!”, she gasped, her voice full of dramatic disbelief.

Jake’s resolve faltered, and he glanced at Ellie before mumbling, “Fine. They’re in the cereal box”.

Sam blinked, his arms dropping to his sides. “The cereal box?”.

Dean laughed, shaking his head as he clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Gotta hand it to ‘em, Sammy. That’s creative”.

Sam just sighed, muttering something under his breath as he turned toward the kitchen. Caleb followed after him, shaking his head as he glanced back at his cousins. “You guys are so weird”, he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Dean crouched down to the twins’ level, his smirk softening into something more affectionate. “Alright, you two”, he said, his voice quieter. “What’s the deal with the toothbrush thing, huh? You trying to drive Uncle Sam crazy?”.

Ellie looked down at her bunny, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. “We were just playing”, she mumbled. “It was funny”.

Dean sighed, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “Yeah, it’s funny until Uncle Sam loses it and makes you scrub the bathroom for a week. You wanna deal with that?”.

Jake shook his head quickly, his eyes wide. “No”.

“Good”, Dean said, standing up and crossing his arms. “Now, go help him find them. And no more hiding stuff, got it?”.

“Yes, Daddy”, they chorused, their voices small but sincere.

Dean watched as they scampered off toward the kitchen, and he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Turning back toward the bedroom, he caught your amused expression.

Dean’s grin widened when he saw you leaning against the doorframe, your messy hair and his AC/DC shirt hanging loosely on your frame. He gave you a once-over, then nodded toward the bathroom with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

“Wanna take a shower?”, he asked, his voice low and teasing, though the mischievous twinkle in his eye made it clear he wasn’t just talking about getting clean.

You were about to reply when Sam’s voice cut in sharply. “Nope. No way. You two aren’t disappearing on me right now”.

Dean turned slowly, raising an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was standing there with Caleb and the twins, all three kids looking suspiciously close to starting another round of chaos.

“Come on, Sammy”, Dean said, his voice dripping with mock indignation. “You can handle breakfast for twenty minutes”.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, sure. Because last time I ‘handled breakfast’, I had to explain to Caleb why Jake thought peanut butter went on the stove, and Ellie was using syrup as hair gel”.

Dean snorted, turning fully to face his brother. “You’re telling me you can face down demons and angels, but you can’t manage two five-year-olds and a ten-year-old for twenty minutes?”.

Sam opened his mouth, clearly ready to argue, but Dean held up a hand, his expression turning serious—or as serious as he could manage with his sweatpants slung low on his hips and his hair still sticking up.

“Sam”, Dean said, his tone low and firm, “it’s Christmas. Give us a break. Twenty minutes. That’s all I’m asking”.

Sam sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring at Dean. “Fine. But if I find syrup anywhere it doesn’t belong—”.

“You won’t”, Dean said quickly, his grin returning. “They’re angels”.

Sam muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like yeah, right before shooing the kids back toward the kitchen. “Alright, come on, you three. Let’s see if we can make pancakes without burning the bunker down”.

Ellie and Jake cheered, bounding after him with Caleb trailing behind, looking both amused and resigned.

As soon as they disappeared, Dean turned back to you, his grin now entirely unrestrained. “See? Twenty minutes. Plenty of time”.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “And what exactly are we doing in these twenty minutes?”.

Dean stepped closer, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. “You agreed to the shower”, he said, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone that made your knees weak. “I’m just making sure you don’t back out”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and lingering. “Alright”, you said against his lips. “Twenty minutes”.

Dean smirked, pulling you toward the bathroom. “You know I can work with that”.

Behind you, the faint sound of Sam’s exasperated voice carried from the kitchen, followed by Ellie’s laughter and Jake’s declaration that syrup was “just fancy hair gel”.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he closed the bathroom door behind you. “Angels”, he repeated, his voice full of affectionate sarcasm. “Absolute angels”.

After the fourth attempt at trying for baby number three, you and Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, the lingering steam from the hot water clinging faintly to your skin. The scent of Dean’s cologne mixed with the cozy aroma of pancakes and syrup wafting from the kitchen. As you walked in, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the kids gathered around the table, the twins buzzing with excitement while Caleb calmly helped make sure everything was in place.

Ellie and Jake had already set the table with plates, forks, and napkins—though not all of them were straight, and Ellie had stacked three napkins on her plate for some reason. Caleb was pouring juice into cups with the steady precision of someone who had been here before, a slight grin on his face as Jake talked a mile a minute about all the presents under the tree.

“We set it up, Mommy!”, Ellie exclaimed proudly, holding her bunny in one hand as she gestured at the slightly messy table with the other. “Is it good?”.

“It’s perfect”, you said warmly, walking over to ruffle her hair before noticing her sleeves. “But let’s get these up, okay? Don’t want syrup all over your jammies”.

Ellie giggled as you gently rolled up the sleeves of her favorite snowflake-patterned pajamas. Just as you finished, Dean’s phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

Dean grabbed it, smirking as he saw Jodie’s name flashing. “Looks like the cavalry’s here”, he muttered before answering. “Hey, Jodie. Merry Christmas”.

Before he could get another word in, Caleb bolted toward the door, shouting, “Auntie Jodie! Auntie Jodie’s here!”.

Dean shook his head, grinning as he hung up the phone. “Guess I didn’t need to answer after all”.

You chuckled as Caleb yanked open the heavy bunker door, his voice echoing through the hallway.

Sure enough, standing just outside in the frosty morning air was Jodie, her two girls—Claire and Alex—beside her, all bundled up against the cold. Donna stood to the side, her signature bright smile lighting up the moment, while Castiel and Jack stood behind them, looking equally festive despite Cas’s usual stoicism. In Jodie and Donna’s hands were several large bags, overflowing with brightly wrapped Christmas presents.

“About time you let us in!”, Jodie teased, stepping forward as Caleb flung his arms around her waist.

Donna laughed, hefting the bags higher. “We were starting to think you guys were still asleep!”.

Jack grinned, his enthusiasm bubbling over as he hugged Caleb. “Merry Christmas!”, he exclaimed, his eyes darting to the twins, who were already bouncing in place at the sight of all the presents. “We brought a lot of stuff!”.

“I can see that”, you said with a laugh, helping Donna with one of her bags. “Did you guys empty the store or what?”.

“Oh, you know”, Jodie said, her tone casual but her smile warm. “Just a little something for everyone”.

Claire rolled her eyes but smiled as she set her bag down by the tree. “You mean a lot of something for everyone”.

As everyone settled into the kitchen, the sounds of laughter, conversation, and clinking plates filled the bunker, the space alive with the kind of warmth that only came from being surrounded by family—both the one you were born into and the one you chose.

An hour later, the bunker’s usually stoic and cold atmosphere had transformed into a scene of warmth and chaos around the glowing Christmas tree. Wrapping paper and ribbons were scattered across the floor, the remnants of enthusiastic unwrapping now forgotten as everyone enjoyed their new gifts. The soft twinkle of lights illuminated the room, casting a warm glow on the smiling faces around you.

Jake sat in your lap on the floor, completely engrossed in his new dinosaur toy, his small hands moving it around as he made roaring noises. You leaned back against Dean, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist, his warmth anchoring you in the midst of the joyful commotion.

Ellie was sprawled on the floor nearby, her bunny nestled by her side as she played with a doll Jodie had brought her, already inventing an elaborate story involving an adventure in a magical forest. Caleb sat beside her, tinkering with a new model kit, his focus intense as he explained the mechanics to Jack, who listened with wide-eyed curiosity.

Dean’s hand rested lightly on your knee, his thumb brushing against your leg absentmindedly as he surveyed the scene. “Look at ‘em”, he murmured, his voice soft and full of pride. “Like a bunch of happy little squirrels”.

You laughed quietly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “It’s chaos, but the good kind”.

He kissed your temple, his scruff brushing against your skin. “Yeah. This is the kinda chaos I could get used to”.

Across the room, Jodie and Donna were sitting on the couch, laughing together as they admired their gifts. Donna held up a fuzzy scarf that Claire had picked out for her, wrapping it dramatically around her neck as she struck a pose. “How do I look?”, she asked, grinning.

“Like a movie star”, Jodie teased, shaking her head. “A really dramatic one”.

Claire rolled her eyes from her spot on the floor, but a small smile tugged at her lips as Alex nudged her playfully. Castiel, ever the observer, sat quietly in a chair, his gaze fixed on the tree as if he were contemplating the deeper meaning of its existence.

Jack was perched on the edge of the couch, his face lit with excitement as he examined a book Jodie had given him on Earth’s natural wonders. “Did you know there’s a lake that glows in the dark?”, he asked Caleb, his voice filled with awe.

Caleb nodded, still focused on his kit. “Yeah, bioluminescence. It’s pretty cool”.

Dean chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “Leave it to Jack and Caleb to turn Christmas into a science lesson”.

Jake, oblivious to the conversation, looked up at you suddenly, his dinosaur still clutched in his hands. “Mommy, look! He can roar like this!”, He made a loud, exaggerated roar, his face scrunched up in concentration.

You grinned, smoothing his messy hair as you played along. “Wow, that’s a scary roar!".

"I think he might be the loudest dinosaur in the whole bunker”, Jack said.

Dean smirked, leaning forward slightly to ruffle Jake’s hair. “I dunno, kid. I think your Uncle Sammy might give him a run for his money”.

Sam, who was sitting cross-legged nearby and flipping through a new book, glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “I heard that”.

Dean winked, clearly unapologetic. “Yeah, you did”.

The laughter and chatter carried on, the room filled with the unmistakable sound of family—messy, chaotic, but completely full of love. You glanced around at everyone, your heart swelling as you took in the scene. This was what Christmas was supposed to feel like.

Dean’s arms tightened around you slightly, and when you looked up at him, his green eyes were soft and content as they met yours. “This is a pretty damn good Christmas, huh?”, he said, his voice low so only you could hear.

You smiled, resting your hand over his. “Yeah, it really is”.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you a little closer. “And it’s not over yet”, he said with a grin. “Still gotta watch the twins try to eat their body weight in cookies”.

You laughed, closing your eyes briefly as you leaned into him.

Ellie and Jake suddenly stood up, exchanging exaggerated whispers that had everyone turning to watch them curiously. Jake glanced back toward the couch, giving Ellie a quick nod before the two of them ducked behind it, giggling quietly as they rummaged for something.

“What are they up to now?”, Dean muttered, raising an eyebrow but smiling fondly. His arm tightened around your waist, keeping you close as he watched his kids with amusement.

Moments later, the twins emerged triumphantly, holding a small, brightly colored bag. It was obvious they’d been saving this for the right moment, and their matching grins could barely contain their excitement. Without a word, they turned and marched straight toward Castiel, who was still seated near the Christmas tree, quietly observing the scene.

Cas tilted his head slightly as the twins approached, his usual stoic expression giving way to curiosity. The twins stopped in front of him, their smiles widening as they held the bag out together.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Cas!”, Ellie declared, her voice bright and filled with excitement.

“Yeah! Merry Christmas!”, Jake chimed in, bouncing slightly on his toes.

Castiel blinked, his piercing blue eyes moving from the twins to the bag, then back to the twins. “This is for me?”, he asked, his tone laced with genuine surprise, as if the thought of receiving a gift hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Of course!”, Ellie said, nudging the bag closer to him. “You’re our favorite uncle!”.

Jake nodded eagerly, adding, “Yeah, you’re funny. Like, the way you talk and stuff. It’s, like… cool”.

Dean let out a quiet chuckle behind you, muttering, “Well, that’s one way to put it”.

Cas’s head tilted even further, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed their words. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile appeared on his face—the kind of rare, warm smile that made everyone in the room stop for a second.

“Thank you”, Cas said, his voice soft and sincere. He took the bag carefully, as though it were something fragile and precious. “I… appreciate this gesture. Merry Christmas to you both”.

Ellie and Jake beamed, clearly proud of themselves. They stepped back, watching eagerly as Cas opened the bag. Inside, he found a small, hand-painted ornament—a slightly crooked angel with golden wings and a blue trench coat, its expression remarkably serious.

Cas held up the ornament, studying it with that same intense focus he brought to everything. “It’s you, Uncle Cas!”, Ellie explained, bouncing on her toes. “We made it! Well, Mommy helped a little”.

Jake nodded. “Yeah, it’s your coat and your serious face! You can hang it on the tree!”.

Cas stared at the ornament for a long moment, his lips twitching as though he were trying to understand why the kids had chosen him for such a tribute. “It’s… accurate”, he said finally, his voice thoughtful.

The room burst into laughter, even Sam cracking a rare grin as Donna doubled over with a wheezing chuckle. “Oh, Cas”, she said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Never change”.

Cas looked up at Ellie and Jake, who were grinning from ear to ear. His expression softened, and he nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I will treasure this”.

Ellie and Jake’s smiles widened, and they darted forward to hug him, surprising the stoic angel. He hesitated for only a moment before carefully placing the ornament back in the bag and returning their hugs, his movements slightly stiff but no less genuine.

Dean leaned over to you, his grin wide and teasing. “They’re right, you know. Cas is basically a cat in human form. Aloof most of the time, but when he decides he likes you, you’re stuck with him”.

You laughed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “They adore him. It’s kind of perfect”.

“Merry Christmas, Cas”, Dean said, his voice soft but full of warmth.

Castiel’s blue eyes shifted to Dean, his face as calm and serious as ever, though his words carried the weight of a casually dropped bombshell. “Merry Christmas, Dean”, he said, before adding, in the same matter-of-fact tone, “Oh, and congratulations on child number three”.

The room went silent.

Ellie and Jake paused mid-conversation, their heads whipping around to look at you and Dean with matching expressions of surprise and curiosity. Jodie’s mug of coffee froze halfway to her lips, her brows shooting up. Donna’s jaw dropped, and even Claire stopped fiddling with the wrapper of a chocolate Santa.

Dean, for his part, blinked at Cas, his arms tightening around you instinctively as his brain worked to catch up. “I’m sorry, what?”, he finally managed, his voice cracking slightly.

Cas tilted his head, his expression neutral, as though he were oblivious to the bombshell he’d just dropped. “The child you conceived this morning”, he said patiently, as if clarifying something simple. “It will grow strong and healthy. Congratulations”.

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You turned to Dean, who was now gaping at Cas like the angel had sprouted a second head. “Cas”, Dean finally said, his voice strained. “Are you… are you serious right now?”.

Cas nodded solemnly. “Of course. I wouldn’t joke about something so significant”.

Donna choked on her coffee, sputtering as she tried to recover. “Uh, am I hearing this right?”, she asked, looking between you and Dean. “Is this, like, angel-level baby news?”.

Jodie covered her mouth with her hand, clearly trying not to laugh as her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, this is gonna be good”.

Dean’s eyes darted to the twins, who were staring at you both with wide eyes. “Wait a minute—Ellie, Jake, uh… you guys don’t even know what Cas is talking about, right?”, he asked, suddenly looking panicked.

Ellie tilted her head, her little brows furrowing. “Does it mean we’re getting a baby for Christmas?”.

Jake gasped, his excitement palpable. “Like a baby brother?".

Dean groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face as he muttered, “Oh, for the love of—Cas, you couldn’t have said this later?”.

“I thought you’d like to know”, Cas said simply, looking genuinely confused by the commotion. “It’s joyous news, isn’t it?”.

You finally managed to speak, your cheeks flushed and your voice a little shaky. “Cas”, you said, holding up a hand, “you… you’re saying it worked?”.

“Yes”, Cas replied with a small nod. “The energy surrounding you both was unmistakable”.

Jodie finally let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Well, congrats, you two”, she said, her tone warm but teasing. “I guess we know what you were doing this morning”.

Dean groaned again, burying his face against your shoulder.

Sam threw his head back dramatically, letting out a long, exaggerated groan before turning toward Caleb, who was still sitting on the floor with a model kit in his hands. “Caleb”, Sam said, his voice filled with mock desperation, “we need backup”.

Dean’s hand rested protectively on your belly, his fingers splayed across the fabric of your shirt as though it were the most natural place for them to be. He didn’t even seem to realize it, his focus entirely on teasing Sam as the room buzzed with laughter. But you felt the warmth of his touch, grounding and comforting, and it sent a wave of emotion through you.

As you watched him, you couldn’t help but remember how he had been six years ago when you were pregnant with Ellie and Jake. Back then, Dean’s protectiveness had been a force of nature. He had insisted on doing almost everything for you—cooking, carrying anything remotely heavy, even trying (and failing) to assemble the crib himself without asking Sam for help. He’d hovered over you like a mother hen, always checking if you needed anything, always making sure you were comfortable and safe.

You smiled to yourself at the memory of him sneaking out in the middle of the night to get you a very specific brand of ice cream because you’d mentioned craving it once. Or how he’d built up an entire arsenal of baby books, even if he claimed he didn’t need them because “it’s instinct, babe”.

And now, seeing him so casually yet instinctively protective, even before you were showing or feeling the full weight of the pregnancy, reminded you just how much Dean cared—how deeply he loved his family.

“Sammy”, Dean drawled, grinning as he gestured toward the twins, who were still buzzing with excitement. “You’re just jealous because my kids already have a battle plan for world domination, and you can barely get Caleb to do the dishes”.

Caleb smirked from his spot on the floor, holding up his hands. “Hey, I do the dishes. Sometimes”.

“See?”, Dean shot back, his grin widening. “Meanwhile, I’ve got a baby on the way and two kids already training to take over the family business”.

Sam groaned, rubbing his temples. “Oh, yeah, the family business. Great. You’re turning them into mini versions of you”.

“Damn straight”, Dean said, his tone proud. “Best Christmas gift ever”.

You laughed softly, resting your hand on top of Dean’s where it still lay against your stomach. The motion caught his attention, and his teasing expression softened instantly when he looked at you. His green eyes met yours, a quiet, unspoken emotion passing between you.

“You okay?”, he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“I’m perfect”, you replied, your smile widening as you squeezed his hand. “You?”.

His lips quirked into a softer smile as he laced his fingers with yours. “Never better”.

"Merry Christmas, Dean”, you whispered, tilting your head just enough to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. His hand on your belly tightened slightly, and you felt him smile against your mouth before he murmured back, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart”.

Before the moment could deepen, a loud chorus of exaggerated gagging noises erupted from nearby. “Ewww!”, Jake groaned dramatically, scrunching his nose. “Gross!”.

“Disgusting!”, Ellie added, clutching her bunny to her chest as she made an exaggerated barfing sound.

Even Caleb, normally the calm and composed one, couldn’t resist joining in with a muttered, “Seriously, get a room”.

Dean pulled back from the kiss with a laugh, shaking his head as he looked at the kids, all of whom were now thoroughly invested in making the most dramatic gagging noises they could muster. His hand stayed on your belly, his thumb brushing against you in that comforting, protective way that made your heart flutter every time.

“Alright, alright”, Dean said, his smirk widening as he shot the kids a mock-stern look. “You can stop with the barf noises. We get it—you’re all scarred for life”.

Jake crossed his arms, still pouting. “I’m telling Santa about this”.

Ellie, clutching her bunny tightly, nodded with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, Santa should know what you’ve been doing”.

Dean let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, really? You’re gonna tattle on your own parents to Santa? Good luck with that, kiddo”.

“You’re both impossible”, you added with a laugh, shaking your head as the twins dissolved into giggles, their earlier protests forgotten. Caleb just rolled his eyes and muttered something about needing earplugs next Christmas.

Jodie, sitting on the couch, leaned over to Donna with a grin. “You know, I think this might be the most entertaining Christmas we’ve had yet”.

Donna nodded, chuckling as she sipped her coffee. “Definitely. And the most chaotic”.

Castiel, who had been quietly observing the entire exchange, tilted his head slightly. “I fail to understand why the children find displays of affection so objectionable. It is a natural expression of love”.

Dean barked out another laugh, pointing at Cas. “See? Even the angel gets it”.

You shook your head with a smile, leaning back against Dean as the room filled with laughter and playful teasing. The twins went back to their toys, Caleb resumed tinkering with his model kit, and the rest of the family settled into the warm, easy rhythm of Christmas morning.

Dean leaned closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear. “Crazy, isn’t it? This life, these kids, a new baby on the way…”.

You glanced up at him, catching the quiet wonder in his green eyes. “It’s crazy,” you admitted softly, lacing your fingers with his where his hand still rested on your belly. “But it’s ours. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything”.

Dean smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Me neither, sweetheart. Me neither”.

As the kids’ laughter echoed through the room and the twinkling lights of the tree cast a warm glow over the bunker, you felt a profound sense of peace. This was your family—messy, chaotic, loud, and so full of love it was almost overwhelming.

And as you sat there, wrapped in Dean’s arms and surrounded by the people you cared about most, you couldn’t help but think that this was the kind of Christmas you’d always dreamed of—perfect in its imperfection, filled with laughter, love, and the promise of everything good yet to come.

———————————

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

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373

#jensen ackles #deanwinchester #dean and sam #sam and dean #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural

306 notes · View notes

luvelve · 1 year ago

Text

˚ · . lucky strike - c. seungcheol

summary: your first time giving head to anybody and lucky for you, that anybody happens to be your boyfriend seungcheol. you’re kinda nervous because unlike you, this isn’t his first time.

pairing: bf!seungcheol x afab!reader

genre: smut (18+ minors dni!)

wc: 2.9k+ (got carried away again :<)

warnings/tags: making out, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, lots of praise, softdom-ish!cheol, shy & inexperienced reader, bigdick!seungcheol, mentions of food & alcohol, seungcheol & reader are a bit tipsy, use of petnames (baby, angel, pretty), throatfucking, gagging, crying, finger sucking, cum eating

a/n: this is tiktok’s fault for always showing me “he’s the type to talk u through it” type of men. and to me, that sounded like none other than choi seungcheol !! so here we are. forgive me for any warnings i may have missed :< as always, likes/reblogs/feedback are highly highly appreciated ok bye <3

it’s been bugging you for weeks now. it first crossed your mind when you and seungcheol were driving home from a night out with close friends and it just dawned on you how you and seungcheol haven’t done anything yet. well, aside from making out.

seungcheol had told you from the beginning of your relationship that he wanted to take it slow with you. he didn’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. he also told you that things would fall into place eventually and that there was no need to rush. you loved that about him.

but, being the massive over-thinker that you are, you also can’t help but compare yourself to your other girlfriends who have been in longer relationships and what they have possibly already done with their boyfriends.

you feel like you’re ready to do more with seungcheol and that you’re not just pressured by the people around you. you so badly want to bring this up to him but every time you try, you end up steering away from the topic.

the wall clock reads twenty minutes past nine; it’s a friday night and you and seungcheol are in his apartment already in your pyjamas when you should be dressed for a fancy dinner, stuffing yourself with pasta and wine somewhere in hongdae.

it’s been snowing nonstop these past few days and even on the one day that you and your boyfriend reserve every week to go on a dinner date, whether it be at the fanciest restaurant seungcheol can get a reservation at or the mcdonald’s just a few blocks down from his apartment, mother nature just won’t let up.

the two of you were left with no choice but to cook the ramyeon in seungcheol’s pantry. you also thought it’d be a good idea to bust out the remaining bottles of peach and grape flavored soju that had been left over from your camping trip over a month ago.

that was all over an hour ago, soup bowls and chopsticks long forgotten on the table, soju bottles empty, with some random sitcom playing on netflix in the background. you now find yourself on the couch straddling seungcheol’s lap, with your lips heavy on his. both of his hands resting on your waist, just above the band of your his boxer shorts.

breathy moans erupt from the base of his throat and it makes you dizzy. his plump cherry lips find your ear, your jaw, and your favorite spot: your neck.

"baby..." he whispers in between kisses, his hot breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine. all you can do is look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and continue kissing him, but this time sloppier and more desperate. seungcheol notices this and matches his pace with your own, your tongues fighting for dominance.

you don't know if its just you or the alcohol that's in your system, but you know that you want to do more than just kiss seungcheol tonight. plus the fact that you can practically feel his bulge growing under you isn’t helping either.

"nng.." you groan, breaking away from his lips momentarily and resting your forehead on his. your jaw falls slightly open, trying to find the right words to say and immediately, there's worry and confusion painted on seungcheol's face.

"baby, what's wrong?" he says in a hushed manner, his right comes up to your cheek.

“angel, did i do something? hey, you can tell me. hmm?” he adds, not breaking eye contact with you. he carefully fixes his position on the couch, not wanting to bother you.

“i… i-uhh…” you cut yourself off, you’re not nervous but you do want to be careful of how you say it. seungcheol looks at you with his big wet baby cow eyes, silently telling you that you can tell him anything.

“okay… so i couldn’t be more grateful for you wanting to take things slow with the both of us. i mean, really. a-and while i love love being with you like this.. like this close to you…” you trail off, hoping he understands or at least has a bit of an idea of where this is going. you kinda hate how he’s not breaking eye contact, you can practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin.

“mhmm…” he hums in agreement, biting down on his lower lip as he tries to suppress a smile. he does know where this conversation is going but he wants to hear it from you. his hand falls to the small of your back and he caresses gently, you can feel the callouses of his hands through the thin fabric of your sleeping shirt.

“i feel like i’m ready to… you know… do more with you.” you add, feeling your cheeks and ears heat up. you slouch so you can hide in the crook of seungcheol’s neck but he stops you from doing so. “hey hey, i wanna see your face.”

“so is that what my pretty girl really wants, hmm?" he exhales, the sweet look on his face now wiped away. he sits a bit upright, looking at you with dark eyes. you've never seen him this enamored by you, almost like he's hypnotized, and you haven't even done anything yet.

you only give him a slight nod, your breathing getting heavier, feeling like your heart's about to jump out your chest. again, you don't know what's gotten into you but downing soju in such little time definitely fuels what you're about to do next.

you move your hands from seungcheol's chest and onto his shoulders for stability as you rock your hips back and forth. you start slow and then pick up the pace when you see him lean back onto the couch and close his eyes for a few seconds with his jaw slightly open. you can feel his length get harder each passing second and it sends a pool down your panties.

you lean in to kiss him on the spot near his ears and on his neck and this sends shockwaves through his entire body. he feels like his dick is about to explode and all he wants to do right now is pick you up and lay you onto your stomach so he can have his way with you. but, for now he wants to savor this moment with you.

“mmh, just like that, angel.” he says softly, draping one arm over the couch and the other still holding on to your hips to help keep you stable. his words make you feel good, reassuring you that you’re doing something right despite never having done this before.

your right hand then leaves his shoulder and reaches down to massage the growing bulge under his sweatpants. you look down at him with hooded eyes, hand palming over his cock that’s dying to be sprung free.

“baby, can i put it in my mouth?” you ask. seungcheol’s turned on but also completely thrown off because if anything, he wanted to taste you first. aside from wanting to throw you around and bully his length into you, he’s always dreamt of being in between your thighs and tasting your sweet juices all while you tug at his hair as his name rolls of your tongue.

"i-uhh, baby are you sure you wanna do this? he replies, pushing his own fantasies aside first because he only wants to do more with you only if you're sure you want to. "yeah, i know i wanna do this. i've thought about it for quite some time now." you clarify. and that’s enough for seungcheol.

“okay, angel. i just wanted to hear it from you again." he claims, eyes fixated on yours. he quickly catches your lips for a deep kiss, you can feel the want that radiates off of him. he then interrupts, "although i was hoping that i'd be the first to... go down on you."

while his offer does sound nice and tempting, the thought of you being naked for the first time in front of seungcheol does intimidate you a little bit. not to mention that he's your first boyfriend. you think that it'll help ease your nerves and make you more comfortable if he goes first. a win-win situation, you tell yourself.

"well, i really like how that sounds... but i'm just super a little shy to.. y'know. be naked and all." you admit, struggling to maintain eye contact with him. seungcheol doesn't know whether to be mad, disappointed, or annoyed at himself because you feel this way. he thinks that he may have failed at being your boyfriend because you don't feel entirely comfortable around him. you immediately notice the shift in his face and quickly say something, "and it has nothing to do with you, i promise! it's just... i-i've never done this before." you run your thumb over the pout that's slowly forming on his lips.

you further explain the win-win situation that you came up with and seungcheol quickly processes your words and doesn't feel too bad about it anymore.

"so... will you let me?" you add, referring to your question earlier. he doesn't even have to think about it, and immediately agrees. "baby, i'd be stupid to not say yes."

"i'm gonna need a little bit of help though..." you whisper, looking at him with dark eyes and once again reaching down to continue palming his clothed cock as if nothing happened. "don't worry angel, i got you. we can go slow, yeah?" his voice breathy, and at this point he's already putty in your hands.

you're quick to get off seungcheol's lap and get on your knees in front of him. you're feeling nervous but also excited at the same time and so you reach for the band of his sweatpants to pull them down. he sees this and helps you, his hands hovering over yours as you do so.

despite this being your first time, there's still desperation in your actions. the way your dainty little fingers grab hold of his sweatpants and the way you look at seungcheol. as you pull his sweatpants down, you fail to muffle a gasp. fuck, he's bigger and thicker than you imagined. you already know that it's going to be a struggle holding him and putting him in your mouth. you feel your panties getting soaked at the sight of his throbbing cock in front of you.

seungcheol sits and watches you eagerly, his thick thighs spread out for you and his length already coated with precum. you sit on your heels, still admiring how heavy his cock is. "something wrong, baby?" he furrows his eyebrows, his eyes locked on yours. you don't know how else to put it so you tell him straight, "nothing, you're just... big."

he grins and even laughs a little, "i know you can take it." and so you do, you take the base of his cock into your hand and attach your lips onto his tip. you lower your head to get more of him into your mouth but you struggle to do so. you’re not entirely sure that what you’re doing is correct but you continue your actions. you come back up to swirl your tongue around his tip and seungcheol closes his eyes, "mmh, fuck. just like that, angel. slowly." he's so turned on by the sight in front of him that he can't even bring himself to close his eyes for too long.

he leans forward to gather your hair to one side and to press a quick kiss to your lips, practically tasting himself. you don't stop pumping his cock and so he moans into the kiss, feeling the vibrations erupt from his throat. he leans back onto the couch, and your mouth is wrapped around him again. your hand is settled at the base of his cock, stimulating him as much as you can while you cover his tip in spit. "use both hands, baby." he suggests, and so you do.

seungcheol watches as your hands and mouth move up and down in harmony and it's taking everything in him not to cum right now with your mouth so pretty around his throbbing cock. you take more of him into your mouth and your eyes are welling up trying to do so. his tip hits the base of your throat and he feels it when you gag. he expects you to stop but instead you keep him there for a few seconds until you have to gasp for air and you feel his body shudder at your actions. "angel, you're sure this is your first time?" he asks, gathering just enough breath.

"mhmm.." you swallow, looking up at him with sweet and not so innocent eyes, shooting him a shy smile. you're hit with a wave of confidence by seungcheol's words. he quickly lifts his left hand to push his thumb into your mouth, wanting to feel your tongue. he feels selfish, as if you sucking him off isn't already enough, but he just has to. you follow him by sucking on his finger without hesitation, doing the same things that you were doing to his cock a few moments ago. "fuuck, you're so pretty like this." he thanks his lucky stars because he has absolutely no idea what he's done to deserve you and what you’re doing to him right now.

your mouth returns to his cock, where your hands are still stroking him up and down. you make it your mission to make him cum tonight, wanting to see him all breathy and speechless. your hands and mouth increase their speed, and so does seungcheol's breaths. you can tell he’s close because his chest is rising and falling faster and you’re pretty sure the neighbors can hear the lewd noises spilling from his mouth. you wrap your mouth around him again and again, your head bobbing up and down while you look at him through your long lashes, slowing down your pace for a few seconds to tease him just a bit. where the hell did she learn to do that? he thinks to himself.

all seungcheol wants to do now is pick you up and throw you onto the couch so he can return the favor, but he wants to give this to you. he wants you to finish what you started, because he knows it’ll make you feel good. “taking me so well, baby. doing so good f’me.” the praises rolling off his tongue as he runs one hand through his hair.

seungcheol can feel himself getting closer and closer to his high and so your hands work double time twisting his cock. you spit on his tip and sink your head down, his cock bottoming in your throat again. as you come back up for air, he quickly bucks his hips up to chase the feeling as he’s on the brink of his orgasm. you can’t help but let out a small choke with tears falling from your eyes. “-m sorry, angel. couldn’t help it.” he quicky apologizes. “s’okay…” you reply with a sweet smile.

“hmm fuck, i’m gonna cum. you ready for me, angel?” he trails off, taking control as he strokes himself and his length just inches from your face. you watch him as his big hand goes up and down his cock at an erratic pace. you lift your hands up to rest them on his knees but seungcheol has other plans in mind. “uh-uh, hands on your sides.” he says firmly, and you comply. he wishes he could take a picture of you right now, obeying him and being his good girl.

“open your mouth.” seungcheol adds, his demeanor now completely different but you love that he has two different sides to him when it’s just the two of you behind closed doors. your jaw quickly falls into an ‘o’ and soon after, seungcheol reaches his high. he feels his orgasm throughout his entire body, fireworks shooting down all the way to his ankles. his vision goes white and his body writhes in pleasure. white ribbons of his cum shoot out from his tip and onto your face and in your mouth. you feel the warm liquid on your tongue and you don’t know whether to spit or swallow.

you close your mouth just enough that your lips don’t touch, the salty liquid resting on your tongue. you wait for seungcheol to come down from his high, his breathing getting slower as his hand moves from his cock and onto his thigh. your chest swells with pride because you couldn’t believe what you just did to him. your eyes are focused on him as he leans forward, “you can spit or swallow baby, it’s up to you.” he says, and you feel his breath fan over your face as he brings his hand up and uses the pad of his thumb to wipe off the cum that’s on your cheek and just below your lip.

you finally close your mouth and swallow his salty release, completely tasting him. he watches as your adam’s apple bobs up and down as you do so. “good girl.” he comments, ultimately sending butterflies to your stomach. seungcheol then wastes no time to connect his lips with yours, tasting a little bit of himself. this time around, you’re the one moaning into the kiss and biting his lower lip. he deepens the kiss, holding your cheek to get better access. it’s not rushed though, it’s one that says ‘thank you’ for giving me the best head of my life.

he pulls away and you feel his arms at your sides, pulling you up. he slots you between his thighs, your knees sinking down onto the couch and he looks up at you. “your turn?”

#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen #svt smut #seventeen smut #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #svt fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #svt x y/n #seungcheol au #choi seungcheol #luvelve’s

3K notes · View notes

kaiijo · 6 months ago

Text

DATES WITH HIM — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, kaji ren, togame jo content: gn! reader notes: i did not come up with the date idea in suo's! also i recommend reading the mentioned works in suo’s part and listening to the song in kaji’s! obvious togame bias i’m sorry (but i’m also not)

suo hayato ✶ bookstore date

you saw the idea of a bookstore scavenger hunt date and it was too cute to resist. with your list in hand, you and suo make your way to your favorite neighborhood bookstore. the old lady who runs it greets the two of you before attending to other customers. suo leans over your shoulder to look at the first item. “find a joke to make your partner laugh.”

you make your way to the joke book shelf, where suo picks up a paperback titled 100 dad jokes to make anyone bust a side! he flips through it and lands on a page. “which days are the strongest?”

“i don’t know, which ones?”

he stares at you dead in the eye as he answers, “saturday and sunday. the rest are weekdays.”

you can’t help but snort and roll your eyes, and suo says, “we’re counting that!” and you check it off the list because you don’t know if you can take another cheesy dad joke.

you read out the next bullet point: “find a puzzle to conquer together.”

you find and complete a crossword puzzle in a magazine (you kept the magazine with you to buy later). your scavenger hunt list leads you through the travel section to talk about your dream vacation spots; the children’s section where you find your favorite childhood books; and the cookbook aisle where you find a recipe you both want to cook together. finally, the last task challenges you to find a poem that describes your partner.

you and suo split up in the poetry section for that. you thumb through pages and pages but nothing is able to capture just how you feel for suo. you find one finally just as he walks over to you, a poetry anthology in hand. you read to him kevin varrone’s “poem i wrote sitting across the table from you” and he recites joy harjo’s poem “for keeps.”

your heart feels like its about to burst as he finishes and you take his hand in yours, bring it to your lips for a kiss. his gaze is soft as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

kiryu mitsuki ✶ arcade date

you pout as you watch the final pac-man score flash on the screen in big, pixelated numbers: 150 to 170. kiryu ruffles your hair affectionately. “we’re all tied up again,” he says. “two to two. what do you want for the tie-breaker?”

you peer around the arcade, glancing at the flashing screens of various games. there’s street fighter, space invaders, and other classics but it’s the air hockey table that catches your eye. you nod at it. “settle the score over good old-fashioned air hockey?”

“sounds good,” he says and you two make your way over to it.

just as you arrive, another couple shows up. “oh, shit,” the other guy says when he and his girlfriend approach at the same time.

“sorry,” you say. “you guys can have it if you want.”

“no, no, you two came first,” the girlfriend says.

“it’s seriously fine!”

“no, really, it’s cool!”

you’re all at a standstill, neither party willing to takeover the table. instead, kiryu pipes up, “there are four pushers, why don’t we play on teams? a friendly competition.”

“i’m down!” the girl smiles and turns to her boyfriend. “what do you think?”

“i say we crush ‘em!”

“ooh, those are fighting words!” you call, looping you arm through kiryu’s. “ready to kick some ass, mitsuki?”

“always.”

the competition is fierce — the other couple is a lot better than you thought and you’re playing best of seven rounds. it’s the tie breaker and you narrowly manage to block a shot from the other guy. the puck bounces off the sides, hurtling across the board towards kiryu, who easily deflects it back. the volley goes back and forth and there are far too many times it almost sinks into their goal.

the other couple just blocks a shot again and the puck is heading for you. you hit it at the right angle and it just ekes past the defense, sliding into the goal to end the game 4 to 3. you congratulate each other on a good game and kiryu sighs, “i guess that settled the score between us too, huh?”

“what do you mean?”

“you made the winning goal.” he holds out the tickets he’s won. “let’s go get you a prize.”

umemiya hajime ✶ farmer’s market date

“whoa! these squash look so good! how did you grow them? did you plant them in may or june?” umemiya’s eyes are wide and bright as he listens intently to the farmer’s answer. you don’t think you’ve seen him this excited before, which is saying a lot given his enthusiasm for almost anything.

she smiles warmly at the two of you, asking, “how many would you like?”

“three,” you reply, reaching for your wallet, but umemiya is holding out the money for her before you can even open your bag.

the farmer shakes her head, gently pushing his hand back. “it’s on the house,” she says, plucking a packet of seeds from a small wooden crate at the edge of the stall. “and i’ll throw these in too, all free of charge!”

“oh, please, we insist,” you begin to protest but she just shakes her head again.

“it’s been a long time since someone has been this curious about my produce,” she chuckles, “and i’m not about to make a lovely young couple pay for this! all i ask is that you two raise the squash lovingly.”

“we will, i promise,” umemiya says, taking the bag of squash from her. as you two continue through the farmer’s market, umemiya interlocks your fingers, using his other hand to motion to the other stalls you pass.

he says, “we have tomatoes and cucumbers already but we need mushrooms! oh, those look good!” he already leading you to another vendor, surveying the cartons of wood-ear mushrooms. you raise a brow in amusement as he buys five cartons, humming a cheery song.

“what’s all this for, again?”

he beams at you. “the summer barbeque!”

“ahh, right!” you smile. “the infamous summer barbeque.” you glance around the market, pointing out a stall selling sausages and other meats. “i think we’ll want to get some protein, then, since your boys eat enough for a hundred men.”

“babe, you’re a genius!”

hiragi toma ✶ cooking date

make dinner at home for date night, they said. it’ll be fun, they said. you think anyone who said this is a fun, stress-free date is a total liar.

“alright,” you sigh as you clean the frying pan of egg residue for the third time. “well, fourth time’s a charm!”

hiragi pops a stomach tablet out of its packaging and chomps down on it. “you said that the last two times.”

“this one’s going to be the one!” you chirp, reaching for the egg carton. “it has to be, since these are our last four eggs.”

hiragi lets out a long, heavy breath before slipping his apron back on. “okay, one more time.”

hiragi throws a large tablespoon of butter down the pan, tilting the pan from side to side as the melting butter coats the surface. you crack the four eggs into the measuring cup and beat them with a whisk, tipping a little drop of it onto the butter. it sizzles promisingly and you and hiragi share a glance and nod, then you pour the eggs in.

you stir the eggs quickly with a pair of chopsticks, stopping as you see the omelet beginning to smooth. hiragi tilts the pan to let the uncooked egg mixture start to cook, doing his best to keep the curds even and level.

the new portion of eggs scramble and you spoon your chicken rice mix into the center of the omlet, roughly shaping it into an football-shape as hiragi kills the heat. “good?” you ask him, motioning with your chopsticks at the pile of rice.

“good.” he lifts the pan. “hot pan, coming through!” he places it on the damp rag on your counter. you slide the omlet to the edge of the pan, carefully wrapping the rice with egg on both sides. hiragi’s already moved to get a plate and you hold your breath as he slides it carefully onto the plate.

success.

you let out collective sighs of relief.

kaji ren ✶ concert date

you had spent hours in an online queue to get kaji tickets to see his favorite band for his birthday. luckily, the venue isn’t too long a train ride from makochi but when you severely undersold how many people can cram themselves into the venue.

kaji’s grip is firm as you weave your way through the crowd, pushing closer to the stage. some guy jostles you, grumbling under his breath, only to apologize when he faced kaji’s cold glare. your boyfriend manages to get the two of you to a decent spot near the front, just off right of the center.

“what song are you most excited for?” you ask him, speaking as close to his ear as possible. the din around you is getting louder and the crowd more electrified, so you know it’s starting soon.

“wasted nights,” he replies easily.

you hum, “that sounds familiar. it’s on the playlist you made for me, right?”

his mouth lifts into a small smile. “yeah, i think it’s number eleven or twelve.” just as he is about to add something, the lights around you begin to flash and pulse as the ambient music dies down. the band comes out to thunderous cheers as they take up their instruments.

even though you don’t know the band well, you can’t help but jump and dance with the crowd, and you sing along to parts you can remember. kaji’s not one for rowdiness himself but he thrives off the energy from it — you can see it in the way he bobs his head in rhythm, the way he seems completely in his element. as the fourth songs in the set transitions into the fifth one, a slower ballad this time, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pecks your cheek. “thank you again,” he says. “i’m glad i’m here with you.”

you burrow further into his side, swaying to the music. “happy birthday, ren.”

togame jo ✶ pottery class date

you tilt your head as the pottery wheel slows to a stop, examining the mug you were instructed to make. the rim is uneven and it’s leaning towards the left. togame’s isn’t any better given that his mug looks shorter and stouter than the rest of the class and the handle is fully too long. when the pottery teacher walks over, she offers a sweet smile. “beautiful work,” she says. “they both have a unique charm to them.”

“thanks, we totally meant to make them this way,” you say and she carefully brings them to the shelf where the other attendees’ mugs sit waiting for the kiln.

oddly enough, seeing your mugs together makes them look somewhat normal, almost like an eclectic set, and when you glance at togame, he meets your eyes and you two try to suppress your laughter, togame’s broad shoulders shaking with effort. as you stand side by side, washing your hands in the classroom’s sink, togame smirks. he reaches over and claps a hand on your shoulder, leaving a large, damp terracotta-colored handprint on your shirt.

you narrow your eyes and do the same, this time on the side of his own t-shirt. his hand touches your back and yours grazes his chest. you could probably do this forever but someone clears their throat behind you and you apologize as you actually finish cleaning up, stepping aside for another couple to wash themselves off.

togame drapes an arm around your shoulder as you leave the building, saying, “i think i won, babe.”

you know he’s talking about the stains all over both of your clothes but all you do is smirk at him. “i think i won, actually, since this is your shirt.”

he shrugs. “i wish i could be mad, but you look too good in my clothes to complain.”

bonus!

you return two weeks later when your “unique” mugs are primed for glazing. you two agreed to keep the final designs on your pottery a surprise so you sit as far away from each other with your backs turned. in the end, you two had similar ideas — he chose your favorite color as a background and painted on a pattern of your favorite flowers while you glazed your mug in orange and black with an attempt at a the lion face on the shishitoren jackets, albeit yours is way less threatening and much cuter.

your mugs sit in each of your cabinets at your homes in all their uniquely beautiful glory, your new favorites — well-used and well-loved. one day, they’ll be together again, side-by-side in a cabinet that you two shared together.

#wind breaker x reader #wbk x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #kiryu mitsuki x reader #kiryu x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya x reader #hiragi toma x reader #hiragi x reader #kaji ren x reader #kaji x reader #togame jo x reader #togame x reader #wind breaker imagines #wind breaker scenarios

655 notes · View notes