#fluffy dean smut

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Hihi!! Can i req for kinktober 8. fuck or die with sam Winchester or castiel (idm) the readers dying and only there onsolved feelings for sam or cas is the only way to save (if you get me 🙇‍♀️🩷)

Thank you for the ask, Anon! ❤️❤️❤️

I was already planning to do a similar version but I like yours better. Here ya go!

Warning: heterosexual sex (p in v), unprotected sex, wrap it up, kiddos! nipple play, tw: love curse, tw: physical pain, tw: person dying, schmoopy, Angst and Fluff and Smut

Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, (Ask request)

“Sam, it hurts.”

Y/n looked pale as he held her in his arms with his cell phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.

“Hello, Dearie.”

“Rowena, Y/n got hit with a curse…” Sam proceeded to explain the events that led up to now, including Castiel being unable to heal her or affect the spell cast on her.

“Oh, Darling,” Rowena trilled. “You’re gonna need to make love to the lass.”

“What?!” Sam squeaked. He’d had a crush on Y/n since meeting her, nearly a year ago, finding her cute, and kind, and they seemed to have similar interests in books and research. From the first time he saw her smile, he was caught in her web, and she had no idea.

“You heard me, Samuel.” She paused for a few moments, realizing the situation as Sam remained silent. “You have feelings for her?”

Sam eyed Y/n, who was wrapped in a blanket in his arms, dozing.

“Yes,” he confirmed, quietly on the phone. “I can’t let her die, Rowena.”

“Oh, you poor boy. I told you what you have to do, but there is a catch, Samuel, darling.”

Sam silently waited.

“She has to have feelings for you in return. The spell is a sort of curse and love spell. If the other doesn’t reciprocate, it kills the one who is cursed. You have 24 hours at most from when the spell is cast upon them, and you both have to admit your feelings for each other.”

Sam felt the blood in his face drain away at the realization they were extremely short on time. It had been six hours already as he had scoured the library’s card catalog before calling the witch.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT? SHE KEEPS FALLING ASLEEP AND CAN BARELY EAT!” Sam quietly yelled through gritted teeth, waking Y/n who looked up at him; however, he didn’t notice.

“Samuel.” Rowena quietly informed, “The spell will allow you to make love once things…get going or said. Trust me. This is the only way to break the curse. You can do this. While I haven’t met her, I’m certain she has feelings for you too.” Rowena almost sounded as if she was lamenting.

“Thanks, Rowena,” Sam replied quietly as he contemplated how to save Y/n.

Dean saw Sam hang up and looked at him expectantly.

“I’ll explain later. I got this,” Sam informed Dean.

Sam looked down to the now awake Y/n, who watched him.

“Are you ok?” she asked softly. Her weakened state making even talking troublesome.

Sam’s face softened—amazed that she was worried about him despite her dying—and nodded. He kissed her hair. “Yes. We need to get you to your room and settled in bed.”

Without a word or warning, Sam changed his arm placement and picked Y/n up bridal style causing her to yelp. He grinned at her. “I’ve got you, Y/n. Nothing is gonna hurt you if I can help it.”

Dean and Castiel secretly smiled at each other and held hands under the library table.

While Sam walked to Y/n’s room in the bunker, he thought back about his interactions with Y/n, wondering if she feels the same way about him. They’d been spending more time together over the last few months. They'd been texting each other daily and Y/n would always text good morning and good night to him. He began to feel confident that she felt the same way, but getting her to admit those feelings might be harder.

By the time Sam put Y/n down in her bed, she had fallen asleep again. Her body was shutting down. He sat down next to her and gently caressed her face, calling her name.

Y/n blinked a few times before awakening to see Sam smiling at her, and she smiled back and placed her hand on his hand on her face. “Hi,” she greeted, her eyes soft and her cheeks barely pink.

Is she blushing? Sam wondered.

“Hi,” Sam returned.

“What did Rowena say?”

Sam dropped his hand away from her face as he spoke. “She said it was a love curse.”

Y/n looked at her lap. “Oh. What does that mean?”

Sam sighed and clarified, “Rowena said that you would need to admit your feelings to who you’re in love with and…and…make love.” He could feel his face heating up as he looked towards her nightstand, then back at her.

Y/n eyebrows rose into her hairline, her slightly pinkened cheeks darkening. She remained silent a moment, then winced and whined at the pain in her abdomen. “I don’t understand how, Sam.”

“She said the curse will allow you, once things start going. If there is someone we need to call or get, I’m sure Cas will go get them.”

She smiled widely and looked at him, placing her hand on his cheek.

“Sam,” she gently chided. “There isn’t anyone else.”

His heart raced on his chest as his cooling face began to heat up. “What do you mean?”

Y/n knew if she was going to live, it was now or never as her heart rate increased. Her chest started aching but she ignored it. “You.” she explained, her voice trembling. “Ever since I met you, it’s been you.”

Sam took this as permission. He leaned down and brushed his lips, chastely, against hers. His stomach fluttered with butterflies and bees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. Her chest warmed and tension faded away. It was so much easier to breathe. He bracketed her in with his arms, knees between her legs, tangling his fingers in her soft y/c hair. The kiss reassured her as her body felt to be tentatively improving. She tightened her arms further as her strength returned, crushing her lips against his, and moaned. He slid his tongue against hers and a dance ensued as they devoured each other.

Y/n captured Sam’s moans as she pushed her chest against him. Pulling away from him, she looked up and smiled. “I think we should, um…” She looked away, unable to complete the sentence.

“Right,” Sam agreed, realizing what she meant. He sat on his haunches, removed his plaid, and pulled off his shirt. Y/n turned to watch him at his words with an eyebrow raised and chewing on her lower lip. “Y/n.” He chuckled at her watching him.

“Right,” she agreed. She grabbed the front hem and pulled off her shirt revealing a spaghetti strap undershirt.

“You don’t wear a bra?” Sam asked.

“Do I look like I need to wear a bra?” She asked incredulously, and grabbed her breasts through the undershirt. She giggled, “It’s not like I got a lot here.”

“I don’t know. I think I need a better look to judge for sure.” he teased, acting playfully thoughtful.

She pulled off her undershirt revealing her chest. Her breasts, while on the small side, seemed to be the perfect size for Sam, just enough to fill his hand. He squeezed slightly and grinned. “I think you’re perfect.”

Y/n could feel her face heat up at the compliment.

With his other hand, Sam tilted Y/n face up to him and tenderly kissed her. Y/n pushed him away, frustrated. “Sam, we need to speed this up. I’m already starting to feel…weird.”

“Weird, how?”

“I don’t know. Not like myself. Just like before. Off.” She couldn’t figure out how to explain it but remembers a similar feeling hours earlier before the pain started. Determined to get the show on the road, Y/n repositioned herself to be kneeling and pulled Sam down to her. She skipped his lips and went for his neck, sucking marks in his skin across his jugular then his Adam’s apple. Sam gasped in surprise, then moaned, causing her to chuckle.

You’re mine, Sam.

Sam was stunned at her directness and desire for him. His hands sat at her hips. She moved slowly from one side of his neck to the other.

And I’m yours.

Sliding her hands down his arms, squeezing and feeling their strength and definition, she grabbed his wrists, slid one to her ass, and the other to her breast, squeezing his hands. He finished rebooting and pinched her nipple, gently rolling it between his thumb and forefinger while he massaged her asscheek. Y/n moaned into his neck, then nipped and licked his shoulder.

She slid her hands down his chest, stopping to trace his defined abdominal muscles. The feel of his muscles went straight to her core and she could feel that she suddenly soaked her panties. She had a muscle kink and never told anyone since it was very superficial. She went to his belt, unbuckling it blindly while she nibbled his collarbone. She popped open the button, then slowly pulled his zipper down.

Surprised, he glanced down, seeing her finger the edge of his boxer-briefs. “Y/n, you’re moving fast.”

Y/n pulled back. “Sam, take off my pants,” she commanded, then hesitantly asked, “Can I take off yours?”

She grinned and worked his underwear and pants down together. His large cock sprung out and she stopped to stare. “Holy shit.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to blush. He had never gotten that reaction before. He worked to remove her pants and she helped. Once they were both naked, they took each other in for a few moments.

“Is there anything you don’t like?” inquired Y/n.

This was not going how he imagined it but answered anyway. “Uh…not that I can think of right now. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll let you know.”

“Same,” she confirmed.

“You?” he asked.

“Um, no penetrating my ass this time around. Need to clean up.”

“Ok.”

Things stalled a bit for Sam but not for Y/n. She wrapped her hand around his girth, stroking his length. Sam practically growled at her action. She bit her lower lip and giggled. She leaned forward, licking the underside from base to tip then engulfed the tip in her mouth. He growl-groaned at the sensation. Since she was unable to communicate, she grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of her head. He instantly grabbed the back of her hair, pulling her off.

“If you keep that up, I’m not gonna last.”

She failed to hide her grin, never having had someone react so strongly to her. “Then fuck me, Sam.”

Sam leaned forward and picked her up as he sat back on his heels. Y/n’s breath trembled and a shiver went down her spine at the change. He cocked a brow at her but she just held on to his shoulders as he did the same to her thighs and ass

“Y/n, I need to tell you something.”

“Sam,” she begged and squirmed in his hands and arms. “Please.” She wrapped her legs around him and he lined his cock up to her entrance, lowering her.

They both groaned the moment he began to penetrate her hot, wet heat. The burn from Sam’s large size felt amazing, especially once he bottomed out. She took a few slow, deep breaths, having never felt so full.

“Are you ok?” Sam asked, concerned.

Her pupils were dilated with barely any y/e/c shown. “So full,” she panted and squirmed on his cock. “Please, Sam. Please fuck me.”

Sam slowly thrust into her soaked channel at first. Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes and moaned. Once he started to speed up, she panted and whined. “More,” she begged.

He gently laid her down on the bed, bringing her further up his thighs, and thrust into her with force. The strength of his thrusts sent lightning down his spine to his groin. He knew he was close. She screamed with pleasure, encouraging Sam to continue. She brought her hands to her nipples, rolling them around and pinching them. He pressed open-mouth kisses across her chest and left marks from his teeth on the inside of both her breasts with licks from his tongue.

She carded fingers through Sam’s hair, damp from sweat, and scratched his scalp, causing him to groan. Her hand goes rubbing her clit. He gasped at her walls clenching around him and this pushed her over the brink, crashing and burning as she screamed through her release. The sight of her — beautiful and sexy— was such that he, too, grunted and exploded, filling her full.

Sam bracketed her in again with his hands on either side of her shoulders. He huffed and panted, trying to catch his breath. She smiled blissfully at him. She raised a finger and lightly touched his cheek. “How are you?”

He huffed a laugh. “Great.”

Her hand dropped to her chest and she panted, “Me too.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, and rubbed his nose against hers. She lightly giggled.

“I love you, Sam.” She told him like it was an everyday thing they told each other.

He smiled widely, “I love you, Y/n.”

::::

The next afternoon, Y/n was in the library reading in Sam’s lap, snuggled against him.

“How are the lovebirds?” Dean teased.

“We’re good,” replied Y/n. She grabbed her cell, looked at it, then put it down. “Five more minutes,” she informed Sam.

He kissed the top of her head. “Ok.”

“Five more minutes until what?” asked Castiel.

“We’re making sure the curse is broken and there is a time limit on it. While we don’t know the exact time, we have an idea of when it was, give or take, so just waiting it out to make sure.”

Dean and Cas chuckled. “Mind if we wait with you?”

“Of course, the more the merrier,” replied Y/n. Dean and Castiel sat down next to each other. Castiel on Dean’s laptop and Dean on his phone as they held hands under the table

[missmarveledsblog]

hey all one question

is there a certain character you would like for me to write for or write more for? Suggestion are welcome too

[estrangedaframian]

open to: m/f/nb 25+

connection: dating, flirting, loving relationship, will-they-won't-they, etc.

summary: your muse thinks dean is only interested in their body. he tries to plead otherwise. (( I don't have the ability to use the legacy editor atm so i cannot trim the posts from my end. ))

"I'm sorry if I put it the wrong way. I'm just trying to tell you that I am very, very attracted to ALL of you—— I mean, if I could see your liver, I'd be after that, too!"

"Unfortunately, I'm reduced to having to work with this shallow surface stuff, but what I can see I'd like to get to know every inch of...Is that so terrible?"

[little-diable]

Mine to Claim - Dean Winchester (smut)

While I'm still wondering if I should write for James Beaufort, I decided to run with the enemies to lovers theme for Dean. I know y'all love jealous Dean as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader wants Sam to have a nice birthday, but all she can focus on is Dean, the man she had always sworn to hate, the man who gets all possessive as soon as somebody else finds her interesting enough to chat her up.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, thigh riding, full on jealous Dean, Dean's a bit of a dick in the beginning, possessiveness, fluffy end

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 4k words)

“A party? And who should we invite, huh?” Dean’s voice filled the library. He had his feet placed on the table, arms crossed in front of his chest while nursing his second beer of the night. 

(Y/n) had her eyes focused on the laptop, typing away as she tried to pierce ideas together to celebrate Sam’s birthday. But while she was set on putting something special together, trying to trap the man she couldn’t stand into helping her, Dean could only give room to annoying comments. 

“How about some werewolves, vampires maybe or a wendigo to make this exciting!” Sarcasm dripped from Dean’s words, leaving her groaning as she finally looked at the handsome Winchester brother. The two of them had never been fans of one another, but while (y/n) generally tried to keep her distance, Dean was set on annoying her at any given chance. She had lost count of the dates he had ruined for her, the friendships she had tried to build but had been torn down by him, no matter what she tried to do, Dean was always right there to cross her plans.

“Have you always been such an asshole or have you just not outgrown your teenager phase yet?” She shifted her weight onto her forearms while staring at Dean as if he was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. His eyes had a twinkle to them as he mimicked her movements, taking his feet off the table to lean further towards her. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, we both know you enjoy our dynamic more than you let others believe. You have never been good at hiding your crush on me.” The angry scoff clawing through (y/n) forced a chuckle out of Dean, who looked at her as if he had just goaled a win. Whenever he managed to rile her up, to get her angrier by the second, his smirk would grow as if he was proud of himself for getting under her skin like that. 

“Fuck you, Dean!” She rose to her feet, unexpectedly to Dean who now studied her with confusion laced in his gaze. “I’ll just take Sam out for dinner, anywhere without you near will be good enough.” 

(Y/n) tried to walk past him with angry tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn’t manage to get far, forced to a halt by the hand clamping down on her wrist. Dean stared up at her with an unreadable expression, shooting shudders down her spine while she tried to rip herself free. Something inside of her told her that he was close to apologising, urged on by the guilt he may feel, but the moment passed within seconds, forcing his smirk back to his lips.

“Dream of me tonight, sweetheart. But first, tell me, do you still sleep in my shirt?” The angry huff clawing through her made Dean chuckle, watching her rip herself free before storming out of the room. Her heart was aching in her chest, pounding against her ribs while her feet carried her towards her room. 

With her laptop tossed onto her bed, (y/n) allowed her tears to fall, urged on by her anger and confusion, torn between the way she had always detested Dean and the silent longing for him and his closeness. God, she hated him, hated him more than words could ever express, and yet a small, fucked up part of her wanted him and every part of him. 

It was time to finally get over Dean Winchester and the confusing emotions he pushed through her. 

……

“Thank you for this, (y/n). This is by far the best birthday I ever had.” Sam squeezed her shoulder as she looked up at him with a proud grin. She shot Sam another smile before she let her gaze wander, finding Dean’s frame. Even though she had tried to lure Sam away from his brother, knowing that the night wouldn’t end well if she and Dean would have to spend it together, Sam had begged her to take his brother with them, ending up at this very bar.

“Let me get you another beer, birthday boy. I’ll be back in a second.” (Y/n) rose to her feet with an unwavering smile, pushing past a few people to reach the bar. Music rang in her ears, not loud enough to leave her body buzzing, yet just enough to distract her from her wandering thoughts. 

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice forced her attention away from the bartender, waiting for her to make her way towards (y/n). A guy was standing close to her, he was a bit taller than her, a handsome face she smiled at. “Is that your boyfriend?”

He tilted his head towards Sam, leaving her chuckling as (y/n) shook her head no. A relieved smile managed to find its way to the guy’s lips, he was visibly relaxing while taking a step closer. Even though her body begged her to chase the distance, her mind urged her to stay right where she was, reminding her of her promise to finally find a distraction from Dean Winchester.

“Are you from around here?” She kept her voice quiet as she studied the guy, the plaid shirt he wore and those dark jeans that had a similar touch to the ones Dean currently wore. For a second, she let her eyes wander, not paying attention to the words the guy spoke, but Dean was nowhere to be found, disappearing from her sight. 

“It’s my friend’s birthday today, so I’ll have to get back to him.” (Y/n) mumbled while she shot the guy another smile. She turned towards the bartender to speak her order before the guy could gain her attention again, with his phone in his hand.

“Give me your number, maybe I can take you out for dinner or something?” The soft chuckle leaving her made him smile, watching her type her number into his phone before reaching for the two bottles of beer. She took a step away from him, with her gaze still focused on him, but the second she turned away, (y/n) stumbled into a broad chest, having to tighten her grasp on the bottles before she could drop them. 

Wide eyes found a pair of familiar green ones, getting lost in the darkening pupils for a moment or two. Dean’s jaw muscles were ticking in anger as his gaze flickered between (y/n) and the guy she had been talking to. It took her a moment to rip herself out of her frozen state before she tried to push past Dean, though without any luck. 

“What did he want from you?” Dean’s voice had something to it she couldn’t pinpoint, something that left her insides churning; something that left her straightening her spine. Her eyes wandered over his angry features, allowing her to take in his handsome features. If he weren’t such an asshole to her, she would have instantly fallen hard for him, begging the man for a chance to love him like he deserved to be loved. 

“That’s nothing of your concern, Dean. Let me go.” But Dean didn’t give in, he tightened his grip on her arm to pull her even closer. 

“Oh, but we both know that it is, sweetheart.” She couldn’t find a reply, the words were stolen right from her as his lips graced her warm cheek with his eyes set on the guy who was still watching the two. And with another squeeze of her arm, he finally let go of her, only to gently push her into Sam’s direction. 

……

She woke with a groan, forcing her eyes open to take in the darkness surrounding her. Slowly, (y/n) rolled onto her side to reach for her phone, reading the time. It was in the middle of the night, only a few hours after they had found their way back home from the bar. 

Since that moment with Dean, (y/n) had been deep in thought, not understanding the way he had behaved at the bar. She crawled out of her bed with a sigh, set on grabbing a new glass of water to clear her thoughts. Still surrounded by darkness, she made her way to the kitchen, carried by tired limbs that begged her to make it back to bed. 

“I knew you were still stealing my shirts.” Dean’s voice left her jumping, ripping a squeal out of her as she turned towards him. He was leaning against the table, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes set on her frame. Heat rose to her features as she remembered that she was once again wearing a shirt of his, and nothing more. 

“You jerk, why do you always have to scare me like that?” He walked closer to her, allowing her to find his pupils. His chest was almost pushed against hers while he wordlessly stared down at (y/n). She was close to speaking up again, set on throwing another insult his way to get herself out of this situation before she could say or do something stupid. But the second his hands found her waist to heave her onto the cold kitchen island, she forgot every word she had planned to speak. 

“Did that guy call you?” His voice was raspy, making goosebumps appear on her exposed skin. (Y/n) could barely focus on his voice, distracted by the feeling of Dean lingering between her spread thighs and the way he grasped her hips with his big hands. 

“Maybe he did, so what?” His tongue kissed his teeth while he pondered over her words, staring at (y/n) with something she’d dream of for a while. It felt like heaven and hell were clashing, forcing them to balance a strong energy neither had felt before. It drew them closer with every passing second, growing between them while both could only endure its strength. 

“You’ll lose his number.” It was a simple command, words that drew a soft laugh out of (y/n) while she shook her head no. A laugh that lost its strength as Dean’s big hand found her throat, forcing her to quiet down. Her pupils grew wider at the touch, drawing a shaky breath out of (y/n). “He’ll never have you.”

“And you will?” She could only whisper her question, words that left Dean smirking as he dipped his head down. He was close to kissing her, lips ghosting over hers while her heart picked up its beat. 

“We both know that I already have you.” With one last squeeze of her throat, Dean pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before letting go of her. (Y/n) was at loss for words, could only watch him take another step away from her with his teeth buried in his grinning lower lip, front still turned in her direction. 

(Y/n) needed a handful of seconds before she snapped into motion, jumping off the metallic kitchen island to haul herself into his space, lips finding his with her arms wrapped around his neck. Dean instantly replied to the kiss with one hand placed on her waist and the other cupping the back of her head to keep her close. Their tongues met to deepen the kiss, leaving both groaning at the new sensation. 

“I belong to nobody and if you keep on being such an asshole to me, you’ll be the last person to ever have me.” She mumbled the words against his lips before pushing him away, leaving Dean breathless while she walked back to her room with a smile glued to her slightly swollen lips. 

……

Music filled her room, cozying (y/n) along while she was reading. It had been hours since her kiss with Dean, a memory that left her buzzing with nerves whenever her mind took her back to those minutes. She was proud of herself for finding the confidence at that time, for pushing him away after a kiss she longed to experience again. 

His lips had felt all too soft, a perfect kiss she had always read of in books but had never experienced herself–until that very moment. He had tasted of beer and home, a strange sensation she hadn’t been able to shake so far. 

A soft knock forced her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering towards her door to watch Dean step into the room. They hadn’t shared a single word since that kiss, while she had hid herself in her room, Dean had given her enough space to sort through the chaos both were stuck in now. 

He closed the door behind himself before walking towards her bed. (Y/n) could only watch as he plopped down on her bed, gently taking her book to place it on her nightstand before pulling her into his chest. She could hear his heart racing as both were laying there in silence. 

“What are you doing, Dean?” (Y/n) shifted on his chest, eyes finding his while he kept his hand placed on her side. He stayed quiet, seemingly deep in thought with his eyes set on the ceiling rather than her face. 

(Y/n) barely allowed herself to properly look at Dean, to take in the beauty of the man who made her feel the most confusing emotions imaginable. She wanted to count his freckles, every single one of them reminding her of a galaxy million of lightyears away, each telling its own story. She wanted to get lost in the green eyes reminding her of a forest that had seen the most gruesome things and yet still managed to offer a home to those needing shelter. She wanted to kiss those plush lips again that made her feel more alive than she had ever felt before.

“I,” he cleared his throat as if he was trying to rip himself out of a trap, forcing his eyes back down to meet hers. “Somewhere along the way, since meeting you, I’ve realised that it’s much easier to rile you up, to annoy you and have you as an enemy rather than admit my feelings to you but also to myself. From the first day we met you at that diner, I knew I had found my match, the one who finally belongs to me. But fuck, my anxiety got the best of me, and I began spiralling. It was fucking immature of me, but I couldn’t stop, not as long as I couldn’t accept that I’ve loved you for years.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pondered over his confession, the words that cut deeper than she liked to admit. Dean’s thumb wiped away her falling tear while tightening his grip on her. Both were choked up, struggling to keep on speaking as silence engulfed them once again. The seconds kept fading by, moments she desperately needed to sort through her confusion, the words she wanted to speak but was unsure of. 

“And you’re ready to accept it now?” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, buzzing through her body like lightning set on burning holes into her skin. Dean’s hand stroked up her spine until he found the back of her neck, pressing (y/n) close to kiss her softly. It took her a few seconds to let her lips move, tongues meeting much slower than they had for their first kiss.

“If you’ll let me love you like you deserve to be loved, I am ready to accept it and fight for it.” A part of her knew that she should leave his side, kick him out of the room, and curse him for thinking she’d ever give him a chance, but the other, bigger part, begged her to give in, to finally grasp this chance she had silently hoped for whenever her anger turned into desperation and longings. 

“Kiss me, Dean.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Dean dipped his head down to kiss her with one hand finding her cheek. It wasn’t a soft kiss, fuelled by unspoken emotions and longings, and yet both took their time to properly explore their newfound territory. Carefully, Dean pushed her off his chest to hover over her with one leg finding its way between her thighs.

They didn’t break the kiss as he softly pressed his thigh against her heat, drawing a moan from (y/n) at the sudden contact. Heat buzzed through her body, down her spine and straight to her pulsing bundle. (Y/n) tried to push herself closer, moving with just enough strength to moan once again. 

“Can you make yourself cum on my thigh, sweetheart? Show me how much you need to be touched.” Her eyes found his stormy ones, getting lost in the rich colour for a second before a shaky exhale left her. (Y/n) pulled Dean down for another kiss while she moved against his thigh again, supported by him as he met her movements with more urgency.

Her body was burning, shaking from the excitement she couldn’t let go of; the anticipation pushing her towards the edge she’d fall from at least two times that day. Dean kissed his way down her throat, sucking on the spots that made her arch her back off the mattress. Goosebumps covered her body while she lost grip on reality, allowing her body to move without her mind’s guidance while searching for that high she could already feel creeping closer. 

“Such a good girl, look at how perfect you look, fuck, I can’t wait to see you all done with my cock buried inside of you.” He rasped the words against her ear, forcing (y/n)’s hands to find his forearms to hold on, clawing her fingernails into his skin. She was close already, about to let go with his name rolling off her tongue as the fabric offered just enough friction to make her gasp. 

His name rolled off her tongue as she came, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, toes curled. Dean could only stare down at her, mesmerised by the sight he’d take to the grave, forever remembering the first time he made her cum. With his lips meeting hers again, he managed to rip her out of her hazy daze, forcing her hands to move as they tugged on his shirt. 

They parted for a moment, allowing Dean to get rid of his shirt and his trousers, while she mimicked his movements, undressing herself with trembling fingers. Her mind was racing, leaving her buzzing as it slowly began to dawn on her what was about to happen, that she was about to let the man she had hated for years fuck her. 

“Tell me you want this as much as I do. I won’t touch you otherwise.” Dean’s murmured words made a smile widen on her lips. Even though she struggled to reply, eyes and mind fully focused on his naked body, the muscles she wanted to kiss, the cock that grew harder with every passing second, she parted her swollen lips. 

“I want you, Dean, mark me up.” With his grin glued to his lips, he watched her reach for a condom, rolling it down his cock to draw a soft groan from him. They held eye contact as he positioned himself on top of her, letting his fingers brush through her dripping slit for a moment before finally pushing into her. 

Groans and moans left the two at the new sensation, with her walls fluttering around him and his cock disappearing further and further inside of her. Dean pressed his forehead against hers as a deep exhale left her as if she needed to relax, to tell herself that everything was alright. He moved slowly, careful at first, giving (y/n) enough time to adjust while their bodies kept meeting with every thrust. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect.” Dean’s words drew a small chuckle out of (y/n). Her arms found their way around his neck, letting her fingernails scratch at his skin on their way up his neck. The second she found his roots to tug on them, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, set on leaving marks just like she had asked him to. 

She was about to moan his name, about to beg Dean to move faster, but the sound of her ringing phone forced her attention away from him. For a second, his pace began to falter, but then a smirk widened on his lips. 

“Who is it?” Her wide eyes found their way back to his. 

“The guy from the bar.” She was breathless, struggled to reply while a desperate whine left her. She needed Dean to move again, to push her closer to the edge with his cock buried deep inside of her. 

“Pick up.” Confusion was laced in her gaze as she watched Dean reach for the phone. He answered the call before he pushed it into her direction. They held eye contact as he began to move once again, fucking her even deeper than before.

“Hi, (y/n). I wanted to ask if you’re free tonight? I’d like to take you out for dinner.” (Y/n) struggled to stop her moans from leaving her, not wanting to give away what she and Dean were currently doing–even though Dean was clearly set on proving to the guy that she was now taken. 

“Hi, listen,” Dean’s thrust met her swollen spot the second she began speaking, drawing a moan from her she couldn’t bite down. Embarrassment was about to flush through her, widening her pupils while Dean’s smirk kept growing bigger. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Another moan left her as Dean met that spot again and again, letting the phone fall from her hands while hoping that the guy would simply hang up. No longer could she care about anything but the way Dean fucked her, letting his fingers meet her pulsing bundle to give her the needed push. 

“Cum for me, baby.” His lips met hers as she came, swallowing her moans while he fucked her through the sensation. (Y/n)’s body was buzzing, trembling beneath Dean as he searched his own high with fast thrusts that left her whimpering. He came with a groan moments later, thrown over the edge. 

“Fuck, that was something.” His husky words left her chuckling. She watched him roll off her to get rid of the condom before finding his way back to her bed. Dean’s warmth engulfed her, his arms pulled her against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. 

“We still have to talk about all of this.” (Y/n) whispered words drew a hum from Dean, who found himself being pulled back into his hazy thoughts. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, I promise, sweetheart.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, studying the unreadable expression he wore. 

“As long as you keep touching me like that I’m sure we’ll find a way.”

[outoftheseine]

- SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY FIC RECS 2 -

my big, broody husband | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

part one | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

yes, lieutenant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sinkovia (very very angsty, violence, smut)

forcedhusband!simon x reader

↳ by @suimon (sooo much fluff, comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, lots of bantering)

unexpected | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @dammn-dean (pregnant!reader, angst, comfort, fluff)

the roommate • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world (angst, fluff, smut, kidnapping, simon here made my heart so fuzzy)

please love me | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @rowarn (angst, smut, comfort, tw’s like depression, sa and suicide)

actions have consequences | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!civilian!spouse!reader

↳ by @mrweh (heavy angst, mean!simon)

office romance • supervisor!simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @hecateslore

you had his baby and he didn’t know | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sgrplumditz

ghost distribution system | part two | part three • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @katz-chow

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

his heart, his light, his world • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (so so fluffy)

no judgement • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @blingblong55 (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

consequences • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sinkovia (very angsty, tw: miscarriage)

a place to be weak • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff, little angsty)

superficial wounds, deep devotion • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @tacticaldiary (fluff)

tormented by a ghost • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @shotmrmiller (mean!simon, little explicit)

lights • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (dad!simon fluff, angst, childhood trauma)

sunshine • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @sgtcosmo (fluff)

whispers and words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @dammn-dean (angst, slightly suggestive, happy ending)

secret haven • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @lightwing-s (fluff, secret relationship)

gentle love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @floatingfireflies (fluff)

his girls • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @casiia (dad!simon, domestic!simon, fluff, slight angst)

migraines • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @mockerycrow (fluff, physical hurt/comfort)

family ties • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @lundenloves (angst, dad!simon but not a cute dad ahaha)

longing • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (fluff)

hold it together while the world is on fire • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (major character death, grief, angst, tw: drug abuse)

is it too soon? • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (fluff, simon is whipped, grief)

in another life • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @suimon (very angsty, hurt but no comfort)

over his shoulder • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (tooth rotting fluff)

sweet dreams, my love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @qtboni (so fluffy)

the sacrifice • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @bravo4iscool (medic!reader, fluff, angst but happy ending)

wrong words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x 141!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (hurt/comfort)

being chosen… by a baby • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!single mom!reader

↳ by @southernbluebellereader (fluff)

big guy • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kivino (fluff, jealous!simon)

gentle giant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @asph6lt (fluff, soft!simon)

girl dad • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (very fluffy)

home invasion • neighbour!simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @oceantornadoo (hurt/comfort, violence, fluff)

everything’s gonna be okay • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @pearlofthesirens (hurt/comfort)

meet the family • simon ‘ghost’ riley x civilian!reader

↳ by @sim0nril3y (angst, comfort, family issues)

oh muse, tell me of the things done by golden aphrodite • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sprout-fics (smut, greek mythology au)

late night embrace • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @mondaysoct (fluff, slightly explicit)

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

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[arjwrites]

Close- Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader breaks her arm on a hunt and needs some somewhat intimate assistance. Who does she ask for help but Sam Winchester, with whom she shares a silent, mutual pining???? Warnings: Injury, nudity. No smut just fluffy awkwardness!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ There was a soft knock at Sam’s door, teeming with hesitance. 

“Hey, Sam?” 

You popped your head into Sam’s room, hoping he wouldn’t be busy or asleep or otherwise predisposed to deny your somewhat… delicate request.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the arm feeling?” Sam was sat hunched at the desk, buried in a pile of books, bathed in the warm light from the desk lamp. You could feel the concern in his eyes as he peered at up at you, causing you to shift under his intense gaze.

“Pretty sore but could be much worse, thanks for asking.” You mumbled, leaning on your good shoulder just inside the doorframe. You had broken your arm on last week’s hunt after being thrown down a flight of stairs by a spirit. Ouch. You were lucky to get away with injuries as minor as you had, but this whole sling situation was frustrating to say the least.

Sam watched your eyes traverse his room, searching for anything to say. A beat of silence passed, just long enough to make things slightly uncomfortable. Finally, when you managed to open your mouth to speak, it hung open for a moment before any words found their way to the surface. 

“Uh, so, I was hoping to ask you for a favor. If you’re not busy, of course. It’s totally fine if you can’t and I can ask Dean or-” 

“Of course, how can I help?” Sam was always eager to do anything for you, you knew that. 

“Well, uh, I just needed some help… Since I can’t take off this sling and don’t want to get the bandages wet, um, I have a hard time showering, and since it’s my right arm… It’s hard to…do the things I need to do… Could you help me, uh, take a bath?” 

Sam’s eyes widened a bit, unintentionally. 

“I know it’s kind of an awkward ask. Really, I can figure it out on my own or ask-”

“No, of- of course. I’m happy to. Well, not happy- I mean, you know what I mean. I can help you.” Sam was innocent and sweet and nervous and everything you should have known he would be. You took a deep breath, not sure if it was a sigh of relief or an anxious gasp. 

“Thank you so much. I’m… going to go start the water.” You raced out of the room, shutting it behind you, face already beet red. 

After starting the water and sitting in your own embarrassment for a few moments, you heard a soft knock at the door. After you vocalized your permission, in came Sam. He had shed his heavy flannel and was now wearing a dark t shirt and a sheepish expression.

“Hey.” 

“Hey, Sam. Thanks for doing this, really.” The response that escaped your lips was barely above a whisper. 

“Of course, anything you need. You know that.” Everything Sam said was punctuated with a kind smile, but his nerves radiated off of him in waves. You two sat in that feeling for a moment, taking a beat of silence, before your voice sliced through the tension.

“Okay, um, I’m going to take off my robe, if that’s okay.” 

“Oh God. Uh, yeah. Okay.” His eyes darted to the ceiling as you slipped the robe off your shoulder, using your good arm to gather and drape it over the counter. Alright, here goes nothing. 

You truly couldn’t have asked for Sam to be any sweeter about the whole situation. From the second he gave you his arm and lowered you down into the bathtub, he was the pinnacle of respectful. To be fair, it started out pretty awkward. Sam had asked your permission before every slight movement (“Is it okay if I do your arm now?”), and his eyes were glued firmly behind you, due to both a regard for your privacy and his usual butterflies around you. You two had always had a very close friendship, but Sam had always felt something more for you. He found himself so compelled to you in so many ways, and so deeply attracted to you. However, he had never thought that this would be the way he first saw you naked. It felt wrong for him to take any liberties with it, so he did all he could to prevent his eyes from wandering. He tried his best to carry out his task without casting his gaze towards you, but when his blind attempts at washing your left arm had sent soap bubbles flying into your mouth and eyes, you had to intervene.

“Sam, it’s okay. You can look.”

“Oh! Yeah, right, of course.” 

It took a few minutes for Sam to adjust. His hand often hovered for a moment before settling onto your skin, as if he was afraid to touch you- and in many ways, he was. This was the closest you two had ever been. If he made contact too quickly, he felt like you may disappear. And, he knew how exposed you felt, in more ways than one. You were never one to let your guard down, to let people in, to bare it all to them (literally, in this case). He knew how difficult it was for you, how you hated being injured and thus dependent on someone else to help you when you were vulnerable. So he took things easy at first.

The uneasiness of the situation dissipated into the water alongside the soap that rolled off your skin. You sat there while Sam washed your back, running the warm soapy washcloth back and forth in a gentle rhythm. He massaged the fragrant shampoo into your scalp and you felt your eyes roll back into your head. This was so different for you. You had always had a nagging feeling in your chest about Sam. You loved to watch how he cared for each and every person around him, so selfless, so sweet. You just never thought you’d be on the receiving end of it in such a personal way- especially because you two were just friends. You had always thought that was all you’d be, that he’d never see you the same way you did him. So of course, you were nervous to be this vulnerable in front of him. Once you both had relaxed a bit, though you had really let yourself start to enjoy it, and unbeknownst to you, so did Sam. For you, it felt so nice to have someone taking care of you in the way Sam did. And for Sam, it felt nice to be so close to you and to help you out when you were in need. 

The bathroom was silent besides the occasional splash of the water and the low, baritone tune Sam hummed- it was something you didn’t recognize, but it made the moment feel almost intimate. This moment was incredibly vulnerable and unlike any situation the two of you had found yourselves in before. So when his voice broke through with an, “Uh, alright, all done,” you didn’t really want it to end. 

After draining the tub and carefully bringing you back to your feet, Sam helped you dry off and tie the robe back to your body. The humidity was thick in the air, and with it hung a palpable tension between the two of you. Though it was just a favor between friends, it felt as though the very foundation of your relationship had shifted. Looking up to Sam with wide and honest eyes, you spoke.

“Sam, really, thank you for helping me. I honestly was scared if I asked Dean he'd have been a weirdo about it,” you laughed a little, slightly masking your sincerity. 

“Thank you for trusting me to do that. You know I’d do anything for you.”  Without thinking, you dove headfirst into Sam’s chest for a hug- though you only had one arm to do it with. Sam recognized your gesture and wrapped two large arms around your frame, savoring another precious chance to have you close. Up until now, these moments had been few and far between. But something had shifted. You both had a feeling you’d be finding yourself close much more often. A/N: MY FIRST PUBLISHED FIC! I've been in a very creative writing-y mood as of late, and wanted to dabble into the world of SPN fic. There is definitely more to come. Feel free to leave feedback!! Hope you enjoyed <3

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— mattel

SUMMARY : “it’s been a few years since tfw got out of the life, dean and reader are married, etc. dean’s been a little self-conscious lately—he doesn’t look like how he used to; he’s put on a few pounds. just dean with love handles (PLEASEEEEE dean with love handles lives rent free in my mind) body (dean’s) appreciation, lovey dovey stuff like that. reader taking care of him :))))) dean smut fic!!!!!” - anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Alison (OFC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluffy, little angst, shameless horniess, dirty thoughts, size kink ngl

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

A/N : title from an avenged sevenfold song. this fills the square for sex shop on my @jacklesversebingo card. there will be a second part, hehe. xx

“Wow,” you looked around with your lips parted in astonishment at the hundreds of sex toys that covered the wall from top to bottom. “I’ve been missing out.” They had cute names and cute ‘mascots’ stamped on the boxes that held the toys within. You saw bunnies and panda bears and pretty colours like pink, purple, and sky blue.

Dean chuckled behind you and you turned to watch him roll his eyes as he looked to the side. You followed his gaze and you were bombarded with lewd sex books. One of them was open on a bookstand to a page with a man and woman having sex in a position that seemed too acrobatic to actually be pleasurable. You blinked, jaw dropped in shock, and turned your eyes to Dean whose cheeks turned deep red when he met your gaze.

“I’d break something if we tried this!” You exclaimed to make things worse for Dean, and took the same book that resided next to it to quickly flip through it, not nearly as excitedly as you’d hate to admit you were. “This can’t be purely for my enjoyment. Although this one looks hot! Imagine if you did tha- hey!” Dean snatched the book from your hands when two women giggled as they walked around the two of you. 

You looked up at him innocently, but mostly seductively when he pulled you into the lingerie section. He shoved the book he’d forgotten about into one of the shelves. Now you knew why he decided to take you this early in the morning. The shop was practically empty after two hours of being open. And Dean, the grumpy morning person he was, hurried you into getting dressed so you could arrive ‘early’ after checking his phone a couple of times. (You imagined he checked the hours and days the shop was less busy and it amused you further.)

“You need to take this seriously,” he murmured, his attention mostly focused on one of the sets above your head. You bit your lip to hide your smirk, but failed and grinned mischievously at him. 

“I am!” You pouted, subtly looking at the lingerie set that caught his eye. He gave you a look and you defensively crossed your arms over your chest and turned away from him. “Fine! I’ll pick something, go ask one of the women what they recommend for us, you know, something we can share-” 

“What?” Dean suddenly sounded more embarrassed and in disbelief at your request. You could feel him get closer and your skin prickled with foreshadowing excitement. 

“Oh, come on.” You turned to punch his arm gently, but he still rubbed the spot. “It’ll be cute to them, just let me look around some more… Please?” He bit his lip thoughtfully and you did the same to hold back a moan at the sight of him in a plain black t-shirt and the same sweatpants he’d abandoned the night before when he made you choke on his dick and beg for him to-

“Okay, baby.” He leaned down to peck your lips and then kissed your forehead as your stomach lurched with elation and your breath bubbled in your chest. You smiled softly at him, your dirty memory evaporating like a puddle in the middle of summer. 

You tried to act as casually as you could after stepping out of the dressing room at the back of the sex shop and looked for where Dean was. The same woman—Alison—who’d helped you get away with your secret, winked at you as she talked Dean’s ear off about the toy you figured one of the other employees suggested to Dean. 

You carried a small bullet vibrator Alison suggested—for discrete purposes—and a lingerie set. Not the one Dean was staring at earlier, you were currently wearing it beneath your lavender dress. Alison was clearly devious and not judgmental about your request when you’d approached her about it. 

Dean visibly relaxed when he saw you and you smiled at him as he thanked Alison. Your eyes dropped to the box and you quickly read Tenuto Mini and you lifted a brow inquiringly at Dean.

“Well, if you have any more questions, I’d be happy to help!” Alison chirped and smiled wide as she walked off. You pursed your lips and watched her long brown hair sway across her back. Suddenly, you began to second-guess your daring move.

“Sweetheart.” Dean’s hand finding yours pulled you out of your flight-freeze state. 

“Hey,” you breathed and attempted to smile normally at him, “find something good?” 

His eyes slowly moved across your face and you felt your cheeks become warm. Could he read your mind, suddenly? You forced yourself to think of food and your favourite places to have lunch in order to push away your sexual thoughts. Fear is never good for you. 

“I dunno,” he murmured unenthusiastically. Your smile fell and concern wrinkled your forehead as you traced the beautiful features of his face to get a read on him. 

“What do you mean?” You laughed softly.

 “I just… don’t feel…” he trailed off. 

“Yeah?” You managed to utter past the knot in your throat.

He stepped closer to you, his gentle hand tapped under your chin in what you think was an attempt to comfort you, and opened his mouth to finally get the moment over with, but he shut it faster than you’d like. 

“Dean, what’s-” 

“I don’t feel hot… anymore,” he blurted out under his breath. 

It was like a cold bath, icy water that killed the fire of both your anxiety and your arousal. You frowned hard, feeling deeply troubled and somewhat hurt by his admission. 

“Oh…” you whispered. You watched him bite his lip and longed to be the one who sank your teeth against the plushness of them. You had no idea what to say to him, to comfort him, or even to change his mind about it. You never really considered that he felt that way about himself and part of you wondered when or why he began having those feelings. 

“Let’s just go.” He attempted to take the things you were holding, but you felt more confident now about what you were planning. Have you failed as his girlfriend? You were more than happy to prove him wrong by going through with your dirty plan. 

“No,” you asserted, “I don’t know when you started feeling that way, but I don’t agree.” 

“Let’s… not do this here,” he said quietly, his hand slid up to your elbow. A small group of people entered the store, the bell above the door announced their arrival, and you huffed petulantly. He pulled you closer and you felt agitated—by his words—and wondered how you were even going to play your game out without making him uncomfortable.

“Fine, but we are buying these.” You plucked the toy from his hands and turned away to pay for them yourself before he could argue against it. 

The car-ride back home was tense and awkward.

You were horny, upset, troubled, and deep in thought. 

Your eyes occasionally drifted over to where Dean sat, his hands wrapped lazily around the steering wheel, legs slightly parted—relaxed. He was deep in thought himself, you could tell by the way he bit his lip and occasionally tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.  

You could feel your frown deepening the longer you stared at him and the deeper you fell into the black hole of your thoughts, the more troubled you felt. 

How could he not feel hot when you currently wanted to jump his bones and he wasn’t even trying to be sexy? But that was just you. And you had no idea how to comfort him. Or what to say. Just in general, you didn’t know what to do. Would he believe a word you said? Just because you felt it, doesn’t mean he did, too. And that was clear from the way he expressed he felt unattractive, despite the way you were clearly more than pleased to even lay your eyes on him.

He was so beautiful.

For the most part, in the past, you did feel slightly insecure. So you understood how he felt now. But once you started dating, your insecurity went down significantly. And now that the two of you were married, you didn’t doubt for a second that he thought you were beautiful. 

Nearly every morning, it was normal for you to express how displeased you were to see him walk out the door for work or having to walk out earlier than him to work yourself. How could it be that he somehow felt not hot when you shamelessly drooled over him in a t-shirt and sweats? You worshipped the ground he walked on and more than loved to be at his mercy. 

You hoped at least what happened last night would prove something to him. If the way he had you on your knees, barely allowing you to touch yourself as you took his cock down your throat meant anything to him. Or if the way he made you beg and cry for him to let you orgasm after teasing you with his tongue, fingers, and cock proved anything. You hoped the memory of all of that proved him wrong, basically. 

He was all you could think about, always.

Now, your mind was filled with ideas of what you’d do to watch him beg and whimper for you, too. To make him get grabby and rough with you from how much you teased him. To make him delirious by keeping him from his orgasm. To tease him with slow strokes of your hands, your mouth, or your pussy, whatever would make him pound you into the mattress until you came too many times to speak or think coherently. 

You wanted to feel him all over your body. You wanted to feel his warm cum inside you. To see the bruises of his fingertips on your hips. To feel the sensitivity and puffiness of your nipples from his mouth. To feel raw and tender and wet between your legs from whatever he decided to use to please you. To feel the soreness in your muscles of having been fucked.

You wanted to see the fierce possessiveness in his green eyes. To kiss the red blush on his freckled cheeks. To hear the arousing sounds of his pleasure rumbling deeply through his chest. To watch the mind-numbing pleasure contort his beautiful face. To see and feel the way his body became taut and tense as it moved with yours. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

“What?” It was when you turned to look at him that you felt your thighs relax slightly. They were slick with your arousal and you were only half-ashamed about it. You felt hotter than you already were and shifted your hips shamelessly, only to feel the Impala’s air-conditioning cool the wetness of your neediness against your cunt. Your eyes fell to his hand as it wrapped around your thigh, his fingers squeezed the sides and you instantly imagined him doing it to your neck. You felt a rapid jolt of pleasure on your clit and pressed your lips together as you caught yourself imagining the look on his face if he dared to sneak his fingers higher to feel the dampness of your arousal against your inner thighs. You attempted to remain composed. “I’m fine,” you smiled, then bit your lip to save yourself from smiling too much or not enough.

He looked at you for a few moments and your heart only began to beat faster with each passing second. Dean turned slightly to face you and you realised that you were home when you caught a glimpse of your neighbour’s lemon tree out of the corner of your eye.

What you’d give to ask Dean to steal some off the branches that hung over on your side of the yard. Just to watch his shirt ride up, to reveal his sun-kissed skin, with his sweats hanging low on his hips, his arms flexing to reach the juiciest and perfect lemons for you-

“You’re not mad are you?” Dean’s hand slid up your thigh to grasp your hip and you held your breath—hoping he’d pull you into his lap. 

“What? Of course not!” You breathed out when he squeezed gently, awaiting your response. He sighed softly in relief and smiled, his hand moved away and you frowned at the loss of his touch. “I’m… horny,” you admitted bravely and watched his eyes widen and his face turn red.

“Really?” He chuckled breathlessly. He suddenly looked more confident and relaxed. He leaned forward, brushed your hair off your shoulder with his hand, and let his nose tease your jaw as the scent of your flowery perfume made his brain foggy. 

You shivered and knew you were already too far gone to play any games with him. You felt his lips ghost against your neck, one of his hands held your elbow, and his other hand moved your hair out of the way on the other side of your face. You somehow felt wetter than before and unbuckled your seatbelt to climb into his lap.

Dean’s laugh died down to a moan when you kissed him and his hands found your waist on instinct. “I really need you to fuck me,” you breathed against his parted lips. 

He had the audacity to smirk at you and brought his hands back up to your face to kiss you again instead. He was gentler, slower than you could handle at the moment. His thumb brushed against your warm cheekbone and his fingers tangled in your hair and you wished he would pull on it—hard—as he made you ride his cock. 

You whined against his mouth, so he shut you up with his tongue sliding in between your lips to meet yours. Your arousal felt uncomfortable between your legs and your skin began to heat up even more the harder your heart pounded in your chest. You ached for him. Your body ached for him. You wanted to feel him where he’d been a million times before and your body tingled excitedly at the thought of his touch. 

You moved his hand from your face and guided it between your bodies so he could feel just how desperate and serious you were about your request. He continued to kiss you, allowing you to guide him. Your lips tingled with endless desire and he soothed your need by sucking on your lip and nibbling possessively on your reddened flesh. He gasped against your mouth and nearly choked on his whimper when his fingertips grazed your lace panties, now completely soaked in your wetness.

You pulled away slightly to catch your breath and he pushed your underwear to the side to feel your slippery folds and entrance. It was embarrassingly easy the way he slipped two of his thick fingers into your. He moaned appreciatively when you panted hard against his flushed cheek and he squirmed, biting hard on his lip.

You began to undulate your hips when he perfectly curled his fingers against your walls and thumbed at your swollen clit, keeping your wet folds spread apart with his index and pinky finger. “Make me finish, Dean. Fuck, I need to cum so bad,” you begged shamelessly, practically fucking yourself on his fingers, in his car, in broad daylight, of all things.

On any other occasion, you’d be utterly ashamed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to end the pleasure of finally having Dean’s touch right where you needed him. He was so good at making you feel hot and bothered, and you were so ready and wet, you could even hear the abundance of your arousal with every movement of your hips. 

You released his wrist and sneaked your hand into his sweats, tried to find the waistband of his underwear, but instead you felt his hardened length ready against your fingers. You inhaled sharply, felt the way your pussy pulsed excitedly around his fingers, and brushed your own lower to feel the already-smeared precum on the tip of his cock. 

“Oh… fuck,” Dean murmured, wavering before his fingers slipped out of you, “not here.” 

You expressed your complaint with an irritated moan, but removed your hand from inside his pants despite feeling only minimally motivated to obey him. “You’re not wearing anything underneath… And I’m somehow supposed to contain myself?” 

His laugh was breathy and quiet against your mouth. “I don’t remember this being what you wore under your dress,” he attempted to change the subject with his accusatory tone. He bit his lip, gazing at you through those beautiful lashes of his when you forced yourself away from him. He wasn’t fully capable of hiding the mischief in his green eyes and you inhaled deeply, smiling, hoping to resist the urge to ask again for him to claim you in his car.

“I think we are both equally surprised at what we’ve found beneath each other’s clothes.” 

Dean’s playful grin was followed by laughter he couldn’t contain, a glorious sound that made the millions of dormant butterflies scatter in your stomach. You exhaled shakily and admired him, before making the wise choice of taking the bag containing your new merchandise before escaping the warmth of his car.

Dean called your name happily, but you ignored him when you heard the sexy rumble of his engine die. You stole the key from the pot containing yellow daffodils as the Impala’s door creaked shut with that same sound that brought hope to you whenever he came back home to you again. 

-> mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix

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[fatecantstopme]

Unattached Drifter Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: Dean decides he’d rather spend Valentine’s Day curled up on the couch with you.

Warnings: Cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M & F receiving)

A/N: in honor of Valentine’s Day, I gift you an adorable Dean Winchester fluffy smutty delight. 💜

"What are your plans, Sammy?" you asked from your perch on the kitchen counter.

"I happen to have a date," he replied with a smirk.

"Oooo with whom?"

"Just a nice local girl I met at the library last week."

"Sam Winchester and the nice local girl...sounds like a book I'd read," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and threw a dish towel at you. "What about you?"

"I have an excellent night planned," you confirmed. "Since Dean will be out cruising for ladies to go home with, I figured I could steal the Dean Cave for the night. I'm ordering a pizza, watching scary movies, eating a shit ton of junk food, and washing it all down with a bottle of wine."

Sam laughed. "Now that sounds like a party."

"Someone say 'party'?" Dean asked as he entered the kitchen.

"We were just discussing our Valentine's Day plans," Sam responded.

"You celebrating Unattached Drifter Christmas?" you asked in a teasing tone.

Dean shrugged and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "Nahh, I think I'm gonna sit this year out. I'd rather stay home."

"Awww man," you grumbled.

Dean looked at you with an arched brow. "Is that a problem?"

"No," you answered quickly. "It just puts a bit of a wrench in my plans."

"And what are your plans?" he asked.

"I was gonna take over the Dean Cave for the night--scary movie marathon, pizza, snacks, alcohol."

"Pizza, snacks, and alcohol is my holy trinity," Dean said with a wide smirk. "Would you be opposed to me crashing your party?"

"You hate scary movies," you said.

"Yeah, but you love them," he countered. "I'm the crasher, so I'm not gonna demand a change in movie genre."

You smiled at him. "Alright, then you can come. I'll even supply beer."

Dean winked at you. "The way to my heart," he teased.

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the counter. "Oh, did Sam mention he has a date tonight?"

Sam shot you a look and you hurried out of the kitchen, laughing quietly as Dean started to tease his brother.

"A date, baby bro? Look at you!"

**********

You'd sent Dean to pick up the pizza while you set up the Dean Cave for the evening's festivities. You'd made a run to the grocery store earlier in the day to pick up yours and Dean's favorite snacks, as well as a decent supply of wine and beer.

You were more than satisfied with your selections, but for some reason you felt anxious. Well...to be honest, you knew the reason. You hadn't expected Dean to be staying home and you certainly didn't count on him joining you for the evening.

You'd known Dean for a little over five years and in that time you'd grown to care about him deeply, more than you should. He was a genuinely good person underneath his gruff exterior, a facade he had dropped with you long ago.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you knew you loved him, but you would never say anything to him. You knew him too well. Dean had lost virtually everyone he'd ever loved and he blamed himself for their deaths. He avoided romantic relationships like the plague because he didn't want to add another name to the body count. It was hard enough for him to bring you into his life as a friend, and there was no way he would risk anything more than that.

So of course, you kept your mouth shut, hiding your feelings from both Winchesters. The only person that knew how you felt was Jody and she would take that secret to the grave if you wanted her to. You would rather have Dean as a friend than lose him completely.

You tossed your favorite oversized blanket onto the couch with a sigh. You were trying not to think about curling up next to Dean for a movie marathon on freaking Valentine's Day of all days. You knew it was the romantic nature of the day itself that had your stomach in knots. You'd watched movies and binge ate with Dean countless times before without issue, but there was an added intensity to this instance simply because it happened to be February 14th.

You also couldn't help but wonder why Dean wasn't planning on going out. You couldn't remember the last time he neglected to celebrate 'Unattached Drifter Christmas' as he'd always called it. In fact, Dean hadn't been out to pick up a girl in weeks...you were struggling to recall the last time Dean didn't decline a girl's invitation to come home with her.

"I've brought sustenance!" The man in question spoke from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts.

"Jesus!" you yelped.

Dean chuckled lightly. "Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to scare you."

You shot him a look that clearly said 'I wasn't scared', which only caused him to laugh harder.

You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and headed towards the door. "I'm gonna change into comfy clothes before we get started."

"Good idea," he agreed, placing the pizza down on the table before following you out the door.

Five minutes later, you came back into the Dean Cave wearing your most comfortable leggings and an oversized worn out band tee you'd had for at least a decade. You'd opted to forgo a bra for comfort's sake and you hoped Dean wouldn't notice.

Dean was already sitting on the couch, wearing his gray sweatpants and a plain black tee. It was almost offensive how hot he looked in that outfit--no man had any right to look that good in sweatpants.

When you walked in, Dean's gaze traveled from the TV to you. You noticed his pupils dilate slightly as he looked at you, but you figured that was due to the change in light.

You plopped down on the couch beside him, leaving plenty of space between the two of you to avoid any awkwardness. "Ready to be terrified?" you teased.

Dean groaned softly. "You know I'm only watching these because you love them."

You grinned and snagged the remote from him. "They're so good!"

"Our life is a scary movie," he grumbled. "I don't know why you like these."

"I think that's actually why I like them. Our real lives are full of the kind of shit that would make people lose their minds, but for us, it's just another Tuesday. These movies are either cheesy as hell or have an exaggerated version of a monster we have hunted and killed--so it becomes entertaining instead of scary."

Dean raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Or you're crazy."

You smiled at him and shot him a wink. "That's just an added bonus."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a slice of pizza. As he shoveled food into his mouth, you opened up a streaming service and typed in the name of the first movie you wanted to watch.

"You remember The Conjuring right? And Annabelle?"

"Yeah," he answered. "That Annabelle one was creepy as hell."

You grinned. "Well this one is in the same universe and I've been dying to watch it."

You pressed play on the remote and the opening credits of The Nun began to play. You snuggled up under the blanket and sighed contentedly, a piece of pizza in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Dean glanced at you and couldn't help the soft smile that graced his lips. It was rare he got to see you truly happy and content, so this was a moment he intended to fully savor. He studied your face, desperate to commit it to memory, unwilling to forget how beautiful you looked in this moment.

He sighed softly and closed his eyes, still picturing your face clearly in his mind. It brought another smile to his lips and he breathed in deeply, smelling a mixture of your shampoo and your perfume. He wanted you to be closer to him, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

He made a split second decision and voiced his request aloud, "It's a little chilly in here. Do you mind sharing the blanket with me?" He wasn't cold at all, but he thought it might get you to move closer to him to share.

"Oh! Sure." You smiled and scooted in his direction, holding the edge of the blanket out to him.

He took it and started to cover himself. "You're gonna need to come a little closer, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. "I need a bit more coverage."

You laughed and moved even closer to him so your arms were now touching. "Better?" you teased.

"Much," he affirmed.

You tried to keep your body relaxed and focused on the movie, but Dean's proximity was overwhelming your senses. You could smell his aftershave, feel his body heat, and see the rise and fall of his chest much more clearly than before. The simple act of a man breathing should not be a turn on...yet here you were.

You shifted slightly as you felt a familiar wave of heat pool in your belly. Not now, you thought to yourself.

"You okay, doll?" Dean asked softly.

His voice sounded lower than before, huskier even, and you had to bite your lip to keep from audibly moaning. As it was, you could feel the slick gathering between your legs, which was mortifying enough.

"I'm fine," you lied, shifting again.

Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. "Come 'ere," he muttered. "Get comfortable."

You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but you allowed him to pull you closer. You laid your head against his chest and sighed quietly. You had to admit, it was a much more comfortable position to be in, even if it increased your longing.

"Better?" he whispered, echoing your earlier question.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

Dean smiled down at you even though you couldn't see it. He liked this new position--he liked holding you. He knew he was crossing boundaries he'd never intended to cross, but his feelings had become unbearable as of late.

He couldn't remember a moment when he didn't want you and it was getting harder to remember a time when he didn't love you. The last couple months had been hell on his heart and he was starting to break. He hid it from everyone, especially you, but he knew he couldn't do that for much longer.

His random hookups had stopped alleviating his desire to be with you, instead increasing that need tenfold after every encounter. So he stopped hooking up with women altogether. He'd considered moving out of the bunker for a while to get away, but he couldn't do that to Sam or to you.

He found himself in a predicament he'd been trying to avoid for years and the walls he'd built around his heart had started to crumble. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe--he'd rip out his own still-beating heart if he had to--but he couldn't find the strength to stop loving you. No matter what he did, his love only grew.

It wasn't fair to you and he knew he shouldn't love you, shouldn't tell you, shouldn't pull you into something with him that would almost certainly get you killed, but his own pain was becoming too much. The physical ache in his chest when you were apart was beginning to impact every part of his life, including hunting. He'd be lying if he said it didn't terrify him, but he couldn't fight his feelings any longer.

"(Y/N)?" Dean asked softly.

"Hmm?" you hummed, eyes still trained on the TV.

"Can you look at me, sweetheart?" he murmured.

You shifted your head to look up at him. You were struck by how brilliantly green his irises looked in the dimly lit room, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest so quickly he was certain you could hear it. When your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his, he was immediately lost in them--adrift in an ocean of (y/e/c).

He knew this was it--it was now or never...he could either take the leap or let his pain drown him in loneliness. He chose the former. He lowered his head the short distance to place a soft, warm kiss against your lips.

The moment you felt his lips on yours, it was like the world stopped spinning. Suddenly there was nothing but you and Dean--nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. Just you and Dean.

When your lips began to move against his, returning his kiss, he groaned happily. His hands grabbed at your torso, seeking comfort in your soft flesh. He tugged you towards him, and you shifted your body to straddle his lap, lips never leaving his.

In your new position, you could feel his hardening member pressing against your clothed core. You ground against him, earning a moan from deep in his throat. His hands tightened their grip on your hips and your nails dug into his shoulders as the sensation sent a bolt of electricity through you.

Dean's hands snaked under your shirt and he began tugging it upwards in an attempt to remove it. The logical part of your brain suddenly kicked back on and you grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Dean--wait," you gasped, pulling away from him slightly.

His eyes widened and his body tensed. He quickly removed his hands from your body and held them up in surrender. "I'm sorry, we can stop. I--"

You shook your head. "I just need...I need to say something." You bit your lip. "I don't wanna be a one night stand or a friends with benefits thing. I-I can't, Dean. I can't."

The pain in your voice nearly broke his heart. He wanted to reassure you, but he wasn't sure you would believe him. He had a reputation and it was Valentine's Day...what were the odds you'd believe him?

"(Y/N), listen to me," he said gently, taking your hands in his. "I would never ever make you to do something you didn't want to do...and I would never purposefully hurt you. I need you to know that. Do you know that, (Y/N/N)?"

"Yes," you whispered, nodding slowly.

"Good...because I mean it. I can't do any more one night stands or casual hookups or friends with benefits situations. I can't handle any of those things anymore than I can pretend I don't need you. And I do need you, (Y/N/N). I need you in every way a person can possibly need another...mentally, emotionally, physically--all of it. You're the best part of my fucked up life and I don't want to lose you."

It was rare to see Dean so open and vulnerable. This was one of the very few times you'd been witness to it, but this was, by far, the most emotional moment you'd ever shared with him. You wanted to respond, to say all the things you'd carried in your heart for years, but you couldn't think of a single word to say.

Your silence dragged on long enough that Dean began to worry he'd crossed a line he shouldn't have...a line he couldn't uncross. "Please, (Y/N)," he begged. "Say something."

"I'm sorry," you said quickly, realizing you'd been silent too long. Dean's face fell and you knew he believed you were about to reject him. You placed your hands against his chest in a calming manner, desperate to infuse your love in the touch.

"You're not going to lose me, Dean," you assured him. "I'm not going anywhere...my place is here, with you. This is where I belong--where I want to be. Wherever you are is home to me."

He didn't need grand gestures or romantic poetry. He didn't need some eloquent speech about how much you loved him. All he needed was to hear your sweet voice saying he was your 'home' and he was a goner.

When his lips met yours for the second time, everything felt different. It was as if all the moments of his life before this were in black and white and he was seeing in color for the first time. He felt alive in a way he'd forgotten--whole, in a way he'd never experienced.

He'd had very few positive relationships in his past and most of them ended bloody. He'd thought he'd been in love before, but those feelings paled in comparison to the way he felt about you. This was love, a love so real--so lasting--it was branded into his very soul.

His fingers gripped the edge of your shirt again and this time, you allowed him to remove it. "Fuck," he groaned, hungry eyes trained on your naked chest. "No bra?"

"I wanted to be comfortable."

His large, calloused hands gripped your heavy breasts and he gently kneaded the supple flesh. "I want my girl to be comfortable all the time," he murmured. "So I think we should burn all your bras."

Your soft chuckle morphed into a moan as his lips found one of your nipples. You rolled your hips against him, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

Dean wanted to take his time with you and he was thoroughly enjoying his current activities, but it seemed you had other plans in mind.

"Dean," you whined. "Need you."

He gave your nipple one last gentle lick before lifting his head. "I'm right here, baby."

You rolled your hips against his throbbing cock and he groaned. Clearly you wanted more and he was in no position to deny you anything.

He gripped you tightly and stood up. You yelped in surprise and wrapped your legs around his waist. He turned around so your back was to the couch and he slowly lowered you down, placing you on the couch in front of him. He kneeled down and looked up at you, eyes dark with desire.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, coming to a stop at the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off?"

You nodded rapidly.

He smirked and began to peel your leggings down at a painfully slow pace. You whined in annoyance, but Dean simply smiled. "Patience, sweetheart."

Finally, your pants, and subsequently your underwear, were tossed onto the floor, leaving you completely bare before him. There was a small part of you that felt self-conscious being naked in front of Dean. It was always uncomfortable for you the first time you found yourself in this position with a new man, but Dean was different. You weren't sure if it was the hunger in his gaze, the affection he clearly had for you, or the love you felt for him...you felt safe, you felt comfortable, and you felt loved. That was all that mattered.

Dean licked his lips in anticipation as he slowly spread your legs, revealing your soaking wet pussy to him. He groaned softly, spreading your legs wider to get an even better view.

"Now that's the prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he murmured. He slid a finger between your folds to collect some of your juices before bringing the finger to his mouth. He sucked it clean with a moan of enjoyment. "Delicious."

Before you had time to react, Dean had grabbed your hips and dragged you forward so you were closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth was on you in an instant, feasting on you like he might never eat again.

Your head fell back against the cushion and soft moans began to stream from your lips. Your legs rested on his shoulders and your hand gripped his hair tightly. Salacious sounds filled the room and you were glad Sam was gone for the night. You had a feeling it was only going to get louder.

Dean's experience in the bedroom was very evident as he ate you out. He was extremely skilled, but more importantly he paid attention to you. He was desperate to learn exactly what drove you wild and he wouldn't stop until he'd mapped out all of your pleasure points.

"Dean," you gasped softly, grip on his hair tightening.

He knew you were close, the way your legs began to tremble and your grip on his hair indicating your impending orgasm like a flashing neon sign.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place so you couldn't squirm away. With expert precision, Dean spelled his own full name against your clit with his tongue, sending you into a spiral of moaning, shaking bliss.

Dean continued to lap up your juices as you came down, and to your surprise, he didn't stop, even as you began to tug on his hair in earnest. "Please, Dean! Too much," you pleaded.

Dean sucked your little bundle of nerves into his mouth and slipped two fingers inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot and began to drag his fingers along it repeatedly. The shock waves of pleasure had you changing your pleas to moans in seconds.

Your pussy gripped his fingers like iron and he couldn't wait to feel you grip his cock in the same fashion. He hadn't even been inside you yet and he already knew he would never want another woman's body the way he wanted yours.

"Dean!" you cried out, thick thighs squeezing his head, hips gyrating against his mouth as you came once again.

He lapped up everything you had to give him hungrily--wishing he could stay between your legs forever. This time, however, he allowed you to pull him up by his hair.

You were completely breathless, chest rising and falling rapidly. Dean licked his lips and wondered how sexy you'd look riding him, breasts bouncing as he slammed up into you.

"I think," you mumbled, "you have...too much...clothing on."

He laughed at your breathless remark. He had to agree with your sentiment, so he stood up and removed his shirt quickly. When he stood, you were rewarded with a nice view of his erection pressing against the confines of his sweats.

He smiled at you and slowly lowered his pants, revealing his very large member. The tip was red and throbbing, precum leaking from the slit. You licked your lips and eyed him hungrily, wanting to wrap your lips around it with a desperation that surprised you.

"Sit," you begged.

Dean smirked and obliged, sitting down beside you. You slid off the couch and crawled the short distance to settle between his legs.

Your soft hands wrapped around his cock and he groaned softly. "You're so big," you whispered.

"Your hands are small," he teased.

"But my mouth isn't."

Dean didn't have the time to process your sassy comment before your mouth wrapped around him and you began to suck his cock in earnest.

"Holy fuck-" he groaned, head falling back against the cushion.

He tangled his hand in your hair and gently guided your head as you began to take his cock deeper into your throat. You flexed the back of your tongue as you did so and he groaned loudly.

Having gotten the reaction you'd desired, you did the same move a couple more times, allowing his cock to almost leave your mouth before sucking him deep into your throat.

His grip on your hair tightened and his hips thrust forward, causing you to gag slightly. Instead of trying to lift off him, you breathed deeply through your nose and held steady, relaxing your throat as best as you could.

"Baby, you're doing so good for me," Dean murmured. "Making me feel amazing."

You moaned around his cock and reached between his legs to cup his balls and give them a gentle squeeze. His hips bucked slightly at the action, causing you to smirk.

You continued to suck his cock until he tugged your hair a little more harshly. "You gotta stop, doll, or I'm gonna cum."

You hummed in disappointment, but allowed him to pull you off his cock with a soft popping sound. He looked down at you with lust filled eyes and beckoned you towards him.

"Come up here, baby. I wanna touch you," he begged.

You climbed onto the couch with him, straddling his legs once again. You lowered yourself slowly, rubbing his cock against your wet core. You leaned forward to kiss him and repeated the action. He moaned against your lips before pressing his tongue against them, demanding entry.

You parted your lips and kissed him deeply, allowing his tongue to assert dominance. The kiss was passionate and loving, but the fire that burned inside of both of you in that moment only cared about pleasure.

"I need to be inside you," Dean whispered against your lips.

"Please," you begged him, rutting against him once more.

He gripped his cock tightly and lined himself up with your entrance. Once the tip pressed against your tight opening, he released his grip, hands settling on your hips to help guide you down.

You moaned softly as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock--the stretch both painful and enjoyable all at once. He was larger than you were accustomed to, both in girth and in length, and it almost felt as if you were a virgin all over again.

You had to lean forward, pressing your body against his for support as you lowered yourself down completely. You'd never felt so full, your toes curled at the mere feeling.

"You okay, baby?" Dean murmured, hands gently rubbing soothing circles into your back as he allowed you time to adjust.

"Never better," you whispered in reply.

You pulled yourself up into a proper sitting position and gasped as he somehow sank even deeper into you.

Dean worried he'd hurt you until he saw the look in your eye. His concern quickly turned to a smirk of pride. He pressed his hand against your lower abdomen and growled, "You feel that, baby? I'm so deep inside you, you'll be feeling me for days."

You moaned softly, his words having the desired effect on you. You rolled your hips a little and he hissed softly.

"Fuck, doll."

He gripped your hips as you started to move, bouncing up and down on his cock slowly.

His lips attached themselves to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone--anywhere he could reach. He was reveling in the feeling of your soft body against his muscular one, your curves providing him with plenty of flesh to hold on to.

"You feel so good, baby," he moaned in your ear. "Pussy squeezing me so tight--can hardly breathe."

"Feels good, Dean," you whimper.

"Yeah, baby? You like the way my cock feels in your pretty little pussy? Stretching you just right--you were made for me."

You preened at the praise, which only made him want to praise you more.

"This perfect body of yours makes me feel so good, sweetheart. You take my cock so well. Wanna stay here forever just making you feel good--listening to those sweet sounds you make. Fuck, never wanna stop."

You loved his praise, but your thighs were starting to get tired from the exertion. Dean could feel you slowing down, so he pulled you forward, pressing your chest flush against his.

"I've got you, baby. Let me take over," he whispered.

You gripped his shoulders and nodded, more than willing to allow him to take control.

As soon as he felt your body relax against him, he planted his feet firmly on the floor and began to piston up into you. He held you tightly against him to prevent you from moving too much.

"Dean!" you cried, nails digging into his shoulders.

His cock pressed into your g-spot with each thrust and in a matter of moments, you were teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"Can feel you squeezing me, baby. You gonna cum for me? Huh?" Dean asked huskily. "You gonna coat my cock with your sweet cum, baby? Cum for me, sweet girl. Wanna feel it."

You loved the way he begged and it had you coming undone in an instant. You screamed his name as your walls fluttered around his cock. It took all of his focus not to cum along with you.

"That's my good girl," he whispered. "I'm gonna cum soon, doll. Where you want it?"

"Inside me," you begged. "Please, Dean--fill me up."

"Oh, fuck-" Dean moaned loudly as he came, coating your walls with his seed.

After a few more thrusts, Dean stilled. He continued to hold you tightly against him, needing to feel you close to him as he came down from his high.

He rubbed your back soothingly and placed a soft kiss to your damp hairline. "You were so good for me, (Y/N/N)."

You kissed his shoulder. "Felt so good, Dean."

He smiled and squeezed you tighter. He sighed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of the woman he loved pressed against his chest.

His cock had begun to soften and his cum was leaking out of you and onto his thighs, but he couldn't be bothered. Taking care of you was his one and only priority.

"Do you need some water, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

You shook your head.

"Food?"

You shook your head again.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he begged.

You finally lifted your head to look him in his eyes. "I know it's cliché to say I love you after sex, but I don't care. I love you, Dean...I love you wholly and completely."

Dean nearly breathed a sigh of relief at your admission. "I can't even begin to express how happy it makes me to hear you say those words. I've been pushing the feeling down for years, but I can't do it anymore, (Y/N). I love you with everything I have--it might not be much, but it's yours. You have me forever--mind, body, and soul."

You smiled and gently caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. You kissed him softly, which he immediately returned in kind.

When you separated, you noticed a mischievous glint in his bright green eyes. "Dean?"

"What are your thoughts about round two in my bedroom?"

You laughed lightly. "Are you gonna kick me out of your bed at 2am?"

"Not if you don't snore," he teased.

You smacked his shoulder affectionately and he laughed. "You're lucky you're so damn cute."

He grinned. "Actually, I'm adorable."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You know, I think I like the idea of round two."

Dean smiled and pulled you even closer. "Hold onto me, sweetheart."

You gripped him tightly and he stood up, holding you to his chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he headed towards his bedroom.

When he entered his room, he gently tossed you onto the bed, earning a soft giggle from your lips. He climbed on top of you, pressing sweet kisses to your skin for several moments before finally kissing your soft lips.

"I'm glad you skipped 'Unattached Drifter Christmas' this year," you murmured.

He smiled. "Me too, baby. I think it's more 'Attached Drifter Christmas' now."

You laughed. "I love you, you dork."

He kissed you again. "Not as much as I love you."

The two of you spent the next couple hours continuing to explore each other's bodies, experiencing blinding pleasure over and over again.

Nothing could ever compare to the love you felt for each other, and in spite of everything, you both fell asleep in the comfort of each other's arms, dreaming of the beautiful future ahead.

[jinnie-ret]

FIC RECS

Ok so someone in my asks box asked me for some fic recommendations and I tried to add some gradually but my asks have been so weird recently so I've had to make a new post for them!

First of all ty anonnie you words were really sweet, I hope you stay healthy too!

Also just to preface I will list sfw and nsfw recs so pls if you are a minor, do not explore the nsfw recommendations, these blogs will most likely have a mdni statement so pls respect that and don't go against that :)

Now, enjoy!

SFW

Enough for you - @mixtape-racha (poly ot8 angst comfort)

We love an angst comfort fic and this is one of my faves. Take caution reading this one and read the content warnings at the top just in case! But this one is simply amazing and I wish I wrote it the end.

The Field Trip - @dreamescapeswriting (Seungmin X reader)

Seungmin and reader are teachers in this and if you follow me you may have seen me reblog this one before bc I love it and want this, also this blog has so many imagines you will be fed for days

Warm blankets - @jiniret-writings (3 parts, hurt comfort poly ot8 x reader)

I felt so emotionally invested in this story when I read it, like I felt readers pain 😭 gorgeous

jack-in-the-box -@junicai (angst, ninth member reader)

Set in kingdom. We hate mnet. Skz are very protective and reader gets the comfort she deserves in the end, love this sm!

@hyunjinsbelovedamericano - lots of headcanons and reaction type fics on their MASTERLIST, give it a look!!

Simptober 2023 - @skz-streamer

Fluff for days!!! pookie rly worked hard on this one so go and show some love because you've got so much to read here

Skz text aus - @channiesbakery

These are so so funny I cannot cope. Also explore the other fluff posts too bc they're really cute!

More text aus - @diddybok

Same goes for this blog too, explore their other stuff!

@hannahhbahng has some rly cute fluffy reads on their masterlist

@hanjiquokkaaa check out their skz reactions! My pookie slays every time

Skz fluff fics - @wooahaes

So much fluff to pick from! I fall in love every time!

Warm milk and honey - @horanghoe (poly skz x reader)

One of my fav skz comfort fics of all time, it's so so good, recommending again bc I should

In his arms, unexpectedly yours - @cheesemonky (Hyunjin x reader series)

This is a new series which I'm excited to see my pookie write !!!

@astraysimp for dad skz!!!

Nicholas Ross - @dean-a-mean-tae (skz ninth member male oc)

Love their ninth member writings so definitely check it out if you're looking for male!oc who is the ninth!

In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you - @yangbbokari (Chan x reader)

Heartbreaking, like so angsty but it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous

Princess treatment with SKZ - @j-oneproduces

Each individual member x reader has a drabble and I love it so so much, very accurate imo

@skzoologist read their imagines on their ninth member oc Bae! They also have a fic called unfamiliarity using the same oc :)

I like the view - @mirisss (hybrid ot8 skz X reader)

I rly need to reread this one because I loved what I read so far on it!!!

NSFW

Rabbit hybrid reader - @authorofdanger (hybrid skz x hybrid reader)

I've linked a masterlist, I'd recommend the fic dominance and then the first few fics which are to do with reader as a rabbit hybrid! slight warning that woojin is mentioned

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Red Moon - @lixiepeach (omegaverse series)

this is one of the first skz omegaverse fics I read and it is done so beautifully, as it says in the description of the series, it deals with more adult content than just smut, and the way it is explored is written so well, couldn't recommend highly enough!

Inked Petals and Message Tones - @leviackermanscleaningbuddy (poly smau with real life)

this is an ao3 skz fic which changed my life. I can't explain how much I love this, it had me on an emotional rollercoaster fr fr like it's amazing!

n.h.i.e mini series - @hyungszn (smut ot8 x reader)

damn this one really has me on my toes like the chapters are chefs kiss and it's such a good read!

Bold - @hyunsvngs (American footballer minsung x reader)

Wow wow wee wow. This one made my brain go brrr and evaporate and melt and wow the storyline in it is so so good too. Juno rly has such a good relationship with anonnies and moots and it's so lovely to see. A jupiter stan right here!!

Sanguis Limerence - @jl-micasea-fics (vampire skz x reader)

This is one of the first series I was fully committed to reading on this all and constantly checking. It's insanely amazing, I can't put it into words and now I wanna read it all back again 😭

waiting for us - @kkami-writes (smau poly ot8 X reader)

I'm in love with this!!! Perhaps my fav skz smau like the character development as well is really nice to see and it's an easy read if you find it easier to read it in text messages form

Anger management - @2chopsticks2eyes (minsung x reader)

This is so hot and the way the storyline progresses as well is beautiful

@1-800-shedevil I'm in awe of her and her blog. Gorgeous writer, gorgeous writing. Her posts about body positivity rly are so helpful and her words are so comforting

Sharing = caring - @cbini (ot8 X reader)

This is unbelievably good and if you haven't seen it yet? Do you even Tumblr? Love how ems has such a good relationship with moots and in answering asks too! cbinian for life

Better than revenge - @lixie-phoria (smau Jeongin x reader)

I'm so obsessed with this series so far, putting it here bc there's smut to be added in the future. But I'm in love with it so far wow!!!

[vaguesxrrow]

HOLY SHIT YOU WRITE FOR SUPERNATURAL NOW TOO??? JUST MARRY ME ALREADY <33

*cough cough*

Anyway, could I please request a Dean Winchester x afab! Reader (established relationship) where it's just a super fluffy smut where they're just waking up and everything is going nice and slow and sweet?

I just think that'd be wonderful

Love you lots and take your time!!

OF COURSEE ML wedding when ?? 💍 and what flavour cake do you want 🤔 anywayy here u go 😋

dean winchester / reader - morning sex

a/n: ive only written smut one (1) time before in my life and it was not romantic, so i hope this doesnt sound clunky

wc: 476

tags: afab reader (sex specific terms used), smut, riding, coming on command (kinda) unprotected sex (only because i forgot - feel free to imagine dean magically has a condom on!)

an arm thrown across your torso was what eased you out of sleep. you opened your eyes just a fraction, breathing in the scent of your boyfriend in a deep inhale.

you rolled over to snuggle closer to dean, who blinked sleepily at you, a lovesick smile on his face.

"morning, beautiful." he kissed your forehead.

when he moved to give you a peck on the lips, you wrinkled your nose. "ew, morning breath."

dean raised his eyebrow. "oh, i'll show you morning breath," he said as he wrapped his arns around you and buried his head in your neck, exhaling into your collarbone.

you squirmed, ticklish. "that doesnt even make sense!" you protested. you wriggled some more, and dean's breath hitched. it was then you noticed his morning arousal pressed against your back. oh.

smirking, you turned over to face him. "hi," you whispered as you put your hand to his dick, where it was straining against the thin fabric of his sleep shorts.

he huffed. "hi."

"is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" you quipped. this time, you allowed dean to kiss you. his hands came up to your hips, teasing the hem of your pajama bottoms in a silent question. you nodded into the kiss, and pulled away to take off your shirt while he made quick work of your shorts. you reciprocated, working to free dean from his clothes. his shirt got caught around his head and you both laughed.

"finally," he said as he yanked off the piece of clothing, tossing it dramatically behind him without looking to see where it would land.

your laugh was cut off by a breathy moan as dean's calloused hand met the insides of your thighs, teasing the edges of your folds. the other supported your ass, squeezing gently. you relaxed in his hold.

"dean." you grinded against his dick. "fuck me."

with a moan, he gripped your hips with both hands. gently, he lowered you down onto his cock, his thumb rubbing your clit in circular motions.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, slowly kissing his neck as you rode him.

"fuck, baby," he whispered, hips moving in tandem with yours. his right hand was still pleasuring your clit, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax.

"you close?" you asked.

dean shuddered at your breath against his bare skin. "mm," he groaned in affirmation.

you pressed closer to him and kept moving, chasing your orgasm.

"come for me, [name]," dean whispered.

both of you came with soft moans, your hips slowly coming to a halt as you rode out the wave of pleasure.

"that's one hell of a way to start our morning," he said. "you good?"

you laughed. "yes, but don't think this means you're off the hook for your horrible morning breath."

[apocalypseornaw]

Close Call

Dean Winchester x Reader

Set in season 1 episode 12 "Faith"

When Dean's gravely injured on a hunt Sam calls you for help. With what seems like a ticking clock Dean makes some confessions but what happens when that clocks slows down?

Fluffy smut

You're not sure what you were expecting when Sam called you. Hell the younger Winchester hadn't exactly been thorough in his explanation, mixed in with the fact that you'd been freshly out of the shower when he called meant you'd barely gotten the bare minimum of it. That alone had been enough to make it feel like your heart would crumble. Dean, hurt, hospital.

"But people survive heart attacks all the time Sam" you were trying to wrap your head around what he was telling you but Dean only having a few weeks, a month at most? That wasn't feasible.

He nodded slowly "it was a massive heart attack. They said there was too much damage" you could see the tears brimming in his eyes and felt your stomach knot. "C'mere" you pulled him down into a hug and he practically buried his face in your neck "I can't lose him and you were the only person I knew who would come to us, who's always answered the phone for us both"

"It's gonna be ok. We'll figure something out. We'll hit the hunters network, make some calls. There's something out there that can help him and we will find it" you didn't know if you were trying to convince Sam or yourself. You stood there for a few seconds simply offering what comfort you could to him.

There were times you forgot you had two years on Sam in age, both of you were lifelong hunters having gotten dragged in at a young age. That's how you knew both boys. Sam was damn near a brother to you and as for Dean, he was the closest thing you had to a best friend.

After a moment Sam pulled back and you could see him take a deep breath and the resolve set in his eyes "I'm gonna head back to the hotel and get started on that list you texted me. Do you mind staying here with him?" He nodded towards the room the two of you were standing outside of. You hadn't went in yet but knew your heart would twist seeing Dean that weak. You nodded "Of course. Call me if you find anything" he kissed your forehead then turned to walk away.

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

You took a deep breath to steady your nerves before walking into the room. You could hear the stations flipping on the television before you made it past the curtain, Dean was laying in the bed. Between the grey hospital gown and how pale his skin was he looked closer to a ghoul than the bright eyed, smart mouthed hunter you knew and loved.

He smiled weakly when he spotted you "Finally they got the memo about the fact that I don't wanna die where the nurses aren't even hot" you rolled your eyes at his flirting but sat down on the foot of his bed, resting your hand on the leg closest to you "How the hell do you have a massive heart attack Winchester? If you missed me that bad you could've called. No need for dramatics"

He grinned "Wanted to make sure you dropped everything to come to me sweetheart" you shook your head, trying to hide the worry you knew would be evident on your face. He looked so damn weak, the damage done to him internally showing externally as well.

"Let me guess, John couldn't bother to answer a damn phone for Sam" you couldn't help the bite to your voice. For too long you'd been quiet about the way John treated both his sons but from about the time you turned twenty on at any given opportunity you told him. Dean shrugged "I don't know. I didn't ask him to call dad. I asked him to call you" "oh" your anger at John didn't really dissolve instantly because you knew the reason Dean had you called was because like Sam said himself you always answered.

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

"You need to get some rest" you urged Dean who shrugged "from what they said I'll be getting plenty of rest soon enough" your glare made him grin "I'm sorry sweetheart. I won't joke about it if you come up here and lay down with me. I know you drove all night to be here by now"

Wouldn't be the first time you and Dean had slept in the same area, especially since he started hunting without John. There'd been so many almost between you and him it hurt something deep inside of you to think about it. You loved this man with everything you had and to think about losing him to something as mundane as a heart attack? It didn't seem right.

You shrugged "I don't know Dean. Don't want the nurses to think I'm taking advantage of you in your vulnerable state" he nearly managed his signature smirk at your words before saying "if only I was so lucky then I could die a happy man. Now get your ass up here" he scooted over and patted the bed next to him.

You stood and walked up to the head of the bed, sliding in next to him being careful not to hit any monitor. You knew you were tense because your mind was working overdrive as was your heart but for some reason you thought Dean wouldn't notice, that proved to be wrong because he shifted to pull you further down the bed. "I'm weak,not dead. Not get comfortable and act like you want to be here. You need some rest too"

You knew what he was asking so you turned towards him, tucking your booted feet up onto the bed to lay your head over on his chest. His heartbeat sounded weakly under your ear but it was a familiar comfort. He hooked one arm around you "At least I get to hold you for a little while" you closed your eyes to ensure he wouldn't see any tears in them.

After a minute you'd hoped he'd fallen asleep but he spoke again "Remember that first hunt you ran across me and dad on after Sam left for Stanford?" You nodded "Yeah. I thought that vein on John's neck would burst when I told him it wasn't his fault he didn't know any better and maybe he didn't to read a lore book every now and then"

Dean's laughter shook you slightly "I've always loved that about you. You don't back down from him. You never have" you picked at the hospital gown Dean was wearing before saying "I hate how he treats you and Sam. You're the most important people in my life. I'll fight him tooth and nail"

His fingers found your hair, lightly playing with it "Will you watch out for Sammy? He's gonna need you?" You swallowed hard "I won't need to. Because you're not going anywhere Dean" he kissed the top of your head "Get some sleep sweetheart. I'm gonna try to"

Dean watched you sleep, even as nurses came in to check on him and he sent them out of the room with a glare. They'd told Sam he was dying, a few weeks tops. They could leave him the hell alone to hold his girl. His girl. When the hell had he started categorizing you as his girl?

Was it the fact that you knew the life? That you always backed him and Sam? That you were there when Sam left? You backed down John at every given chance, you always had his back. You were beautiful and sweet and badass. More than one night he'd shared a bed with you just sleeping and it was always the best sleep he'd ever gotten. The hunts you two worked together was a thing of beauty you knew the lore inside and out. If there was ever a chance for him to love someone and it to be a lasting love you were it.

He'd known it long before but laying in a hospital room, being told your time is limited kind of narrows things down for you. He loved you. He was in love with you. How the hell was it fair to tell you that just to leave you?

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

Your phone ringing jolted you out of sleep. You could hear a deep voice, Dean? Memories of the last few hours came flooding back and you sat up to see Dean talking on your phone. He held it out to you "It's Sammy" you took it from him and climbed out of the bed, stretching as you did so. "Hey Sam. What's up?"

-----------

Sam sounded excited from the sound of it so you decided to head to the hotel to see what he'd found out. When you told Dean you were leaving for a little while he looked disappointed until you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek "Please behave. I'll be back"

Sam had found a faith healer, from every contact it seemed legit. The problem? Dean would never agree to it? The solution? You would agree to tell Dean it was a specialist and leave it at that.

"So do you drive him in the impala or do I lure him into my car?" You asked Sam with a smirk about the time a knock at the hotel door made both of you turn around. You shared a look before Sam walked over to ease the door open. You started to reach for your gun but stopped when Dean's face came into view.

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

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked and he shrugged "I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot" then winked at you. You moved to help Dean into the room when he seemed unsteady on his feet.

The hoodie and jeans was better than the hospital gown but god he was still so pale. He smiled when you shifted one of his arms across your shoulders to support some of his weight "Just had to get close to me again, huh sweetheart?" You shook your head but helped him over to the bed to sit down then looked back at Sam "Why don't you go make sure both the cars are gassed up, grab some food for the road then we'll get going"

Dean looked from you to Sam so you explained "Sam found a specialist. Hopefully it'll be fruitful" he nodded "If you think it's worth trying" "we do" you and Sam answered in unison. Sam cut his eyes at you "I'll be back in about thirty, forty minutes then we can hit the road" you nodded and chucked him your keys "Thanks Sam"

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

After Sam left you stood there for a few minutes before letting out a breath. Dean was watching you carefully before he patted the bed next to him "Sit down sweetheart. You're wearing me out"

You sat down next to him, careful not to move him around too much. He moved back on the bed until his back was against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him.

"Do you think this specialist is gonna actually be able to help or are you saying that for Sammy's sake?" You let out a shaking breath "I'm not just saying it for Sam's sake. This specialist has got to help. I can't.. the world can't lose you"

Dean patted the bed next to him "come up here. Might as well get comfortable. We'll be here a little while until Sam gets back" you did as he asked, sitting right next to him on the bed. He lifted one arm and you curled up on his chest so he tucked his arm tightly around you. "Hey, wanna play a game?" You nodded.

"Two truths and a lie" he whispered and you laughed "ok" "I have green eyes, next to Sam you are the most important person in my life and my first solo hunt was at twenty" you felt your face warm "Dean your first solo hunt was at Seventeen" he kissed your forehead "I know"

"Ok, my turn?" You asked and he nodded before shifting to nuzzle into your neck and you had to bite back a groan. You'd always been close to Dean and so many times you two had almost had something happened but what was this? You let out a breath "My car is dark blue, my heart is crumbling in my chest at the thought of losing you and I hate roses"

He whispered against your skin "You love roses" before pressing a feather light kiss to your pulse point. You swallowed hard "Dean" "hmm?" You pushed his chest gently, just enough to put room between the two of you. He looked up at you through those thick eyelashes and your heart flipped "what are you doing?"

He pushed himself up, despite the grimace on his face. For the first time since you showed up you saw his facade slip, tears shining unshed in his eyes "I don't want to die. I don't want to leave Sam. I don't want to leave you. I've known you for years, I've been at your side for years. I've wasted time. I love you Sweetheart. There's never been anyone I feel about like how I feel about you and I know it's selfish of me to say this now but in case this specialist is a bust"

He leaned forward, catching your lips in a gentle kiss that made your heart flip. The two of you had kissed before, teenagers fueled by hormones then hunters fueled by adrenaline after a hunt, nothing had ever gone past a little heavy petting. Something or someone always caused the brakes to get hit but this kiss felt different, like he was trying to say make sure you'd remember him and it broke your heart.

He pushed your shoulders until your back was against the bed and he was on top of you, holding himself up on his forearms. He went from your lips down to your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh. Every little sound that fell from your lips seemed to spur him on until your senses caught up with you. "Dean...stop" the moment you said it he froze.

You shook your head. A day or two ago you would've given anything to be in this position with Dean but now? You couldn't..."Honey...as much as I want to believe you mean what you told me..as much as I want this...as much as I want you. You're dying, you're afraid. I'm not taking advantage" you swallowed hard before continuing "if this specialist works and we get you to the other side of this tell me how you feel" he pressed his head over on your chest before saying "I've loved you for years"

You ran your hands down his back soothingly, feeling your heart break all over again "Tell me that again when you're not dying" he raised his head to look at you, green eyes holding your gaze "Do you love me?" You blinked back tears "Ask me after we see that specialist. Ask me when you're not dying, please"

He nodded and pressed another quick kiss to your lips before moving back to simply lay next to you "I do love you" he repeated quietly so you nodded, feeling tears sting your eyes. "And I'll give you an answer when you're well"

You and Dean hadn't spoken much when Sam got back except for Dean to tease you by saying "Don't worry sweetheart, Sam's driving so you'll be able to keep up"

From what you could tell he wasn't upset that you hadn't answered his question and you knew better than to think Dean would ever be upset over you turning down any advances. You wanted him, fuck you wanted him but you couldn't have him. Not weak, not scared of dying. You wanted him at full strength with a life ahead of him.

You followed the tail lights of the impala and cranked your music up a little louder. You just needed to get Dean to this healer. It would work...it had to work.

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

You grabbed two hotel rooms in a nearby town because Sam figured it was a much better idea to have you in the car with him and Dean when you arrived to the revival where the healer was working.

You sat in the backseat of the impala as Sam pulled off onto the dirt road that lead to the field where tents were set up all around. "What kind of specialist is this?" Dean asked turning slightly in the seat to look back at you so you shrugged "One that can help you get your answer?"

A look of confusion went across Sam's face "answer to what?" "Never mind that. You two bought me to a faith healer" Dean pushed as the car came to a stop and Sam moved to help him out. Dean pushed away from him but took your hand. "Just give it a try please. For the two of us" you whispered, barely loud enough he could hear you over the crowd.

Dean looked from you to Sam. The woman he loved and his baby brother. He'd do anything for the two of you and if this is what you asked of him, well guess he'd give it a try. "Fine" your smile was reward in itself when you reached for Sam's hand and gave it a squeeze "This is gonna work" you assured the younger man before leading the way into the biggest tent.

Dean was healed, his heart was back in top shape you should be escatic and you were but so much had happened in the last few days with Reverend Roy, his wife Sue Ann practicing ancient blood magic to hold reapers hostage and make it appear as if Roy was working miracles and the guilt Dean was now carrying over Layla the woman you'd all met with the brain tumor you'd been forced to not let be healed well nothing had gone as planned.

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

Sam had asked you to stick around, Dean hadn't said much to you and you were starting to think he regretted his deathbed confession now that it wasn't that. The last case had been a simple haunting. With the three of you it had barely take a day so on a rarity for hunters the boys had taken your suggestion of a clean hotel off route sixty six for a couple days to recoup and rest until another hunt fell in your laps or until John pulled his head out of his ass to call them.

You hadn't been long wished the boys goodnight and headed to your room. No matter where the three of you ended up they always made sure to get you a room next to theirs. You were standing at the dresser next to the door, going through your duffle when you heard a knock at the door. You eyed the gun sitting next to you before Dean's voice drifted through the door "It's me sweetheart"

Here it was. The admission that everything he said was simply words of a dying man. You took a step towards the door and reached to unlock the locks then stepped back to let him walk in.

You barely glanced his way when he crossed the threshold "Hey Dean" your voice was nearly a whisper. He closed the door behind himself and you heard the locks click into place, it was a habit of all of yours at this point. You continued your digging through the duffle bag as a means to keep your hands busy and distract yourself from the oncoming heartbreak as if he hadn't hurt your heart enough over the last couple weeks.

"What are you looking for?" He asked after a moment, humor lightening his voice. You shrugged "something to sleep in. I need to shower so I was planning on a tshirt, panties and sports bra so if there was an emergency the jeans were a slip on and go thing" he hummed a response behind you before you felt him move and his arms slipped around your waist, his hands covering yours to stop the repetitive movements considering you'd picked up and put down the same shirt four times already.

"How about we talk first?" You nodded, pulling your hands away from his. He dropped his arms so you could turn to face him and an almost shy smile played at his lips "There she is" you nodded "Here I am"

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

He reached for your hand, turning so he could sit on the dresser next to your bag. Instead of releasing your hand, he used it to pull you to stand between his legs. You laid one hand on his shoulder, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you "Y/N. What I did wasn't fair to you"

Your eyes flew to his face "What?" He shrugged "I sprung that on you. You drove all night to get to me and Sam and I spill my guts and put you on the spot for an answer? How big of an asshole do I have to be? We can forget it, if you want"

"And if I want to talk about it?" Your fingers moved to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes closed for a second before he nodded "We'll talk about it" "Do you actually love me?" You asked.

When his eyes opened the intensity in his gaze nearly made your knees go out from under you but luckily he chose that moment to slip both arms around your waist "Yes. I love you. I have for a long time but you don't have to feel like you owe me anything. We can stay friends.." his eyes flicked towards the bed before a smirk snuck onto his face "If you want more I wouldn't dream of telling you no but I'm not holding it against you for not feeling the same way. I've wanted to tell you and just had really shit timing"

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

"So you don't want your answer?" You asked before leaning over and letting your lips find his neck, teasing the spots that had his grip tightening on your hips "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious but I'm not pushing"

You kissed your way across his jaw before claiming his lips, trying to push how you felt for him into the kiss. When the need for air forced the two of you away you felt a small thrill at him chasing your lips for another kiss "Sweetheart, if you're teasing the shit out of me because of that time dad interrupted us when we almost.."

You cut him off by crashing your lips against his before muttering "Still want to punch him for that" you pulled him up off the dresser and he groaned into your mouth. You broke the kiss and smiled up at him "I'm not teasing you for every time we almost had sex getting interrupted, I promised you an answer..." you took a deep breath before continuing "I love you too Dean"

"You don't have to say that to have me Y/N" he whispered, his lips barely a breath away from yours. You smiled softly "I know but Dean think about it. You're my best friend. I can't even pinpoint when I fell in love with you because the transition just happened but it did. I love you"

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

His eyes searched your face for a moment and you could feel your heart thudding in your chest before you saw the realization finally strike him that you'd meant it. You loved him, you were in love with him and you wanted him. "C'mere" when his lips found yours again your hands went to his jacket, quickly shoving it off his shoulders as he started walking you backwards towards the bed.

When your the back of your knees hit the bed he followed you down onto it, lips never leaving yours until the need for air pushed you apart. You tugged at his shirt and he got the point, quickly pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room before finding your lips again.

Your hands smoothed up his chest, fingers tracing the familiar scars. Many of which you'd stitched up yourself. He moved from your lips down to your neck, kissing and biting the flesh there. When he hit your pulse point you let out a low moan of his name and he chuckled against your skin "Fuck I love that"

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

When you felt his hands slip under your shirt you lifted your back off the bed enough he could slip it off you without ripping it. Your bra followed quickly, leaving your top half bare to him. He started to lower his mouth to your breasts but you stopped him with a hand on his chest. He looked up at you with a question in his eyes and you smiled teasingly "This is the furthest we've ever gotten. Are you sure we won't get interrupted?"

The look that went through his eyes made your stomach flip before he said "I will shoot any son of a bitch that tries it sweetheart" you laughed and moved your hand to cup his jaw "Fuck i love you Dean" he grinned "I love you"

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

He pressed a kiss to your lips before continuing his path down your neck then making his way to your chest. He ducked his head to roll your nipple between his lips and your back arched off the bed into his chest. He continued to tease the nipple as you felt one of his hands teasing at the waistband of your jeans.

He glanced up at you for permission and you gave a short nod. He broke from your chest with a wet pop "No baby. I need words. I've waited too long" you smiled "Yes Dean" he grinned before helping you to shimmy your jeans off your legs.

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

He tossed them across the room and moved down the bed to position himself between your legs. He started at your left ankle then kissed up, taking special care to leave a few hickies on your inner thighs, just shy of where you desperately needed him before going to the right leg to give it the same treatment.

You were a quivering mess under him and he'd barely touched you yet. "Dean, please" "please what?" He asked with a smirk, rocking back on his heels to look up at you. You tried to glare at him but knew it fell weak. He winked at you before licking a tentative strip across your clit.

When you moaned his name he chuckled "Oh this is gonna be fun" then dove in like a man starved of his favorite meal finally being allowed to feast.

-----------

Your legs were shaking and Dean was working to pull yet another orgasm out of you even though he'd yet to even take his damn jeans off. When he added two fingers to brush across that spot deep inside of you, that warmth burst again and you came with a scream of his name.

You weakly shoved at his head "Please Dean, too much. Please" he left a final kiss against your clit before pulling back to look up at you "Enjoying yourself?" "Get your jeans off and get inside me please" you begged and he grinned broadly "now see? That's using your words sweetheart. That's a good girl"

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

He stood off the bed long enough to push his jeans and boxers off. You'd always known Dean was on the bigger side but you'd never known how big.

He was big. You hadn't realized you'd been staring at his cock until he wrapped one hand around the base of it "Like what you see?" You nodded "C'mere"

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

He grinned and crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he could reach along the way. When he finally reached your lips he captured your mouth in a passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on him. You felt the head of his cock nudging at your opening so you spread your legs a little further, hooking them around his hips. He chuckled lightly "I got you baby" before slowly starting to push into you, a moan leaving you both at the feeling.

Once he was fully inside of you he stilled to give you time to adjust to him, kissing across your neck and chest. Once the pain of him stretching you gave way to pleasure you moved your hips to give him the go ahead. He gave a small roll of his hips and when your response was a gasp of his name that was all the assurance he needed.

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

He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into you, pulling a moan from you at the feeling. He pulled back to look at your face for a moment "If you don't like anything tell me to stop" you nodded then remembered what he said about wanting words "I will" he smiled softly "Good girl" then caught your lips in a kiss so gentle it made your heart ache. "Gonna take care of you"

-----------

Every damn thrust was pushing you closer to that edge. You'd lost count how many times Dean had made you come. You knew he had to be close. His thrusts started to falter and you knew he was close. You started to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so damn good baby. So damn good" you clenched at his words "Fuck Dean. I need to feel you come. Please baby"

"You first. One more time" he slipped one hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles onto your clit. You felt that warmth rush over your body again and your vision went soft around the edges when you came. You felt his hips falter right before he asked "Can i come in you?" "Please" you moaned and he buried himself inside of you with a final deep thrust and you felt when he came, the feeling pushing another small orgasm out of you.

Dean pulled out of you gently, apologizing when you whimpered. He laid down next to you then pulled you over on his chest "catch your breath then we'll go shower" you raised your head to look at him "Probably gonna need help walking" you'd never seen him look more proud "I can do that" you shook your head then curled up on his chest.

His fingers were working through your hair as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal "So, are we doing this?" He asked and sounded so unsure. You chose not to face him when you asked "Why? Having second thoughts already?" He was quiet for a moment before saying "giving you an out" you pushed yourself up the bed to face him "Damn you Dean Winchester. I love you. There hadn't been an out for me for years. I've been your best friend for a long time before your cock was ever inside me or before you ever knew I loved you. I wasn't walking away before I damn sure am not walking away now"

He grinned slightly "even the possibility of dealing with my dad?" You shrugged "John Winchester doesn't scare me" he pulled you down and caught your lips in a quick kiss before saying "I love you" you smiled "I love you too. Now let's get some sleep because if Sam heard us he's gonna give us hell about it for days"

[bijouxcarys]

Prove It (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Description: They work together, they travel together, they're around each other almost 24/7. So, why is it so damn hard for them to be alone when they need it? Oh, that's right... it's a secret.

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, smut, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public escapades, Roman being a lil menace, secret affairs, fluffy undertones...

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I have used everyone's real names (apart from where Sasha references Ambrose). The superstars included are Roman, Becky Lynch, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley, Sasha Banks, and Liv Morgan.

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen (if you'd like to be added to the tag list for any future Roman fics, just let me know in the replies/reblog!)

The door to the hotel room swung open, a chorus of laughter and chatter spilling out into the hallway. It had been a gruelling week on the road, and the whole lot of them were ready for some much-needed relaxation. Thankfully, a majority of the rooms down that particular hallway were occupied by WWE Superstars, so noise complaints were a slimmer chance than usual.

Using her and Gionna’s hotel room as a gathering spot wasn’t on Y/N’s to-do list, but when conversation struck up in the car about having a night of relaxation, to let go a little, Gi was more than eager to offer up the room. That was Gi for you; more like her Liv alter ego than even she cared to admit.

Not that Y/N was mad of course; these people were practically family.

“Someone get the drinks?” Gi called out, scrunching her nose up to push her clear-framed glasses further up as she plopped down on one of the beds, her blonde hair splayed out behind her.

“I got ‘em, relax,” Colby replied, holding up two six-packs with a grin. He cracked one open and handed it to her, settling onto the floor next to Jon, who was already mid-story.

“So, there I am, right? Middle of this tiny-ass town, and I can’t find the damn gym anywhere,” Jon was saying, his voice animated. “GPS is telling me I’m there, but I’m lookin’ at a freakin’ cornfield!”

“Classic Ambrose move,” Mercedes laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the wall. “A terrible sense of direction.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! Technology hates me,” Jon shot back, taking a swig from his beer.

Leaning over the group from her place on the bed, Y/N accepted a can from Colby, her eyes involuntarily capturing those she knew would be hard to refrain from the entire night. Gazes locked with the man standing just behind where Colby sat, arms folded; his tank top allowed for a perfect view of his tensing muscles under the gorgeous tan of his complexion. It was a look that spoke volumes—intense, secretive, and heavy.

Considering the close-knit nature of the wrestling world, it was an impressive feat that Joe and Y/N had managed to keep their affair under wraps.

“Who knew we’d all end up here tonight?” Mercedes said, her voice cutting through the din as she reclined on the floor, back pressed against the side of Gi’s bed.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch for lettin’ up the room, Y/N,” Becky added, raising her bottle of water in a mock toast.

“Don’t be thanking me, thank Barbie over there,” Y/N nodded towards Gi, who simply shot a thumbs up in her direction as a response. “But yeah, I mean it’s nice to have a moment to just… be.”

“Amen to that,” Joe said, his deep voice rumbling as he grabbed a drink from the pack Colby brought.

Jon snorted from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, because being crammed into a tiny hotel room is so much better than our own rooms.”

“Hey, at least it’s free entertainment,” Colby retorted, tossing a pillow at Jon, who caught it with a lazy grin.

“Free entertainment, huh? Guess that makes you the clown,” Jon shot back, eliciting laughs from everyone.

“Better than being the guy who gets thrown out of bars,” Colby quipped, throwing his arm around Becky with a cocky grin towards Jon. Colby and Becky were truly in the throes of a honeymoon period. It was a task just getting him to own up to the fact that he liked Becky in more ways than one, so when they finally decided to screw everything and officially become a couple—PDA and all—it was a relief. Finally, the two people who practically pined over each other for at least a year, had gotten their shit, and themselves, together.

The night wore on with more stories, jabbing at one and other, and moments over the last week that were becoming fond memories. At some point, pizza boxes were ordered and devoured, and the room’s occupants settled into various positions of comfort—or as close to comfort as they could get in the cramped space. Joe had claimed a spot on the floor near Y/N’s bed, leaning back against the wall with a relaxed posture that belied what was going through his head.

“Man, I could get used to this,” Mercedes said, stretching out on the floor. “Better than passing out alone in my room.”

“Yeah,” Becky agreed, earning an offended glance from Colby. “We should do this more often, is what I’m sayin’, babe, relax.”

“Just as long as he,” Jon pointed directly at Becky’s boyfriend, “promises to keep his snoring to a minimum.”

“I don’t snore!” Colby protested.

“You absolutely do!” Gi pointed out, honestly scaring the crap out of everyone since they all just assumed she’d passed out across her bed.

Y/N found herself increasingly distracted by Joe’s presence. Every laugh, every shift of his body, every low rumble of his voice seemed to pull her attention like a magnet. She could feel his eyes on her intermittently, a silent conversation playing out between them that no one else in the room could hear.

“Y/N, remember that time we got lost tryin’ to find that diner?” Becky asked, breaking Y/N’s reverie.

“Oh my God, don’t,” Y/N laughed, recalling the memory. “We ended up in the middle of nowhere, and you were convinced we were gonna end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries.”

“I was being cautious!” Becky protested, lifting her hands up. “You never know with those back roads, they’re frickin’ dodgy!”

“That’s why I always use GPS,” Joe interjected smoothly, and deeply, sending a wave of chills over Y/N’s body, though she did a damn good job at hiding it.

“Excuse me, did I not just tell you about my cornfield trauma as a result of GPS earlier?” Jon called out.

“You made it eventually, man, calm down,” Joe chuckled with a roll of his eyes.

As the night wore on, the energy in the room began to wane. Conversations quieted to soft murmurs and the occasional chuckle, as everyone started to feel the weight of the week on the road.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Colby said, stretching out his arms and yawning. “I’m too beat to head back to my room. Mind if I crash here?”

“You can take the floor, Rollins,” Jon muttered from his foetal position in the armchair, his eyes half-closed. “Ain’t no way I’m movin’.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mercedes chimed in, curling up in a corner with a pillow Gi threw at her. “Too tired to move.”

Becky looked around at the group, her eyes landing on Y/N. “Looks like we’re all stopping in here. Hope you don’t mind, love.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied with a smile. “It’s nice having everyone here, and I’m sure that one doesn’t mind.” She glanced over at Gi, who was already on the precipice of slumber.

“It is kinda nice,” Becky nodded. “Feels like a big ol’ sleepover.”

“Except with more muscles and less gossip,” Colby quipped with an amused chortle.

Joe had stuck to the spot on the floor near Y/N’s bed. He glanced up at her as she climbed into the sheets, their eyes meeting once again in the dim light.

As the others began to settle in, finding whatever space they could to lay down, the room slowly descended into a comfortable silence. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle were the only sounds that broke the silence.

Y/N laid back against her pillows, her thoughts drifting. She felt Joe’s presence nearby like a physical touch, a comforting and exhilarating reminder of their secret. She turned her head slightly, catching his eye in the dark.

“You okay?” Joe whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, her lips curving into a smile. “You?”

“Better now,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her face.

Her pulse quickened. They were surrounded by their friends, all blissfully unaware of the silent conversation happening right under their noses. The thrill of the secrecy only made the moment more intense.

“Think they have any idea?” she asked in a hushed tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Joe smirked. “Not a clue. We’re good at this.”

“Guess we are,” she replied, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

A quiet laugh escaped Joe’s lips, and he shook his head slightly. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Y/N grinned. “You love it.”

“Damn right I do,” he said softly, eyes glued to her.

They shared a long, meaningful look, the best they could in the limited light. They both knew the risks of being discovered, but in that fleeting moment, it didn’t matter. They were together, and that was enough.

“Night, Y/N,” Joe whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Night, Joe,” she replied, equally as gentle.

With a final lingering look, they both turned away, settling into their respective spots. The room was filled with the quiet sounds of their friends, but for Joe and Y/N, the silence couldn’t be louder.

She woke up around 3am, the room shrouded in darkness save for the faint glow from the streetlights outside. She shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, when she felt it—his gaze. Slowly, she turned her head and found Joe propped up on one arm with his phone in his hand. His face was illuminated only by the device.

Seriously? You couldn’t have just stayed asleep? She thought to herself, a mix of amusement and frustration bubbling up inside her. Here they were, in a room full of their sleeping friends, with Joe looking like a whole meal doing the bare minimum. The absurdity and excitement was so much for her to handle.

She gave him a pointed look when he finally took a peek over in her direction, her lips quirking up in a half-smile when he noticed she was awake.

“What are you doing awake?” she asked as quietly as she could.

Joe’s lips curved into a slow, lazy grin, with a bashful undertone. “Couldn’t sleep,” he practically mouthed, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes. “You just want to make this night more interesting.”

Joe shifted quietly on the floor, his movements careful and deliberate. He glanced around the room, ensuring everyone else was still sound asleep, then slowly moved to sit up. Y/N’s heart raced as she watched him, every nerve in her body on high alert.

Sliding onto the bed beside her, he moved with a careful grace that belied his size. The mattress dipped under his weight, and he settled beside her, his body warm and solid against hers.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a giddy giggle that threatened to escape. “We’re gonna get caught one of these days, you know.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But that’s what makes it fun, right?”

“Oh yeah, tons of fun,” she replied sarcastically. “Nothing like the thrill of getting caught by our friends to spice things up.”

Even the darkness couldn’t prevent her from seeing his pearly white grin. “Admit it, you love the risk.”

“Maybe I do,” she admitted with a gentle sigh, relaxing into his warmth as his hand slid up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

They laid there for a moment in the snore-filled room. The tension was palpable, a taut wire strung between them that could snap at any moment.

“So, what’s the plan?” she whispered up at him.

“Plan?” he echoed, feigning innocence. “I was just thinkin’ we could enjoy each other’s company.”

She rolled her eyes, positive that her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and despite the darkness, covered her face with her hand anyways. “You’re terrible.”

“And…? You love it, babygirl,” he shot back, his hand moving down to rest on her hip, fingertips teasing the space between her tank top and her shorts. “Remember that time we almost got caught in the locker room?” he asked with an audible smirk, his calloused thumb tracing circles on her exposed skin. “You nearly blew our cover with that yelp.”

“You’re the one who made me jump!” she protested, swatting him lightly on the arm.

He laughed softly, a rich hum that sent sparks straight to her core. “Sure, blame it on me.”

“You really don’t think anyone suspects anything?” Her question came as a small mumble, lost in the shadow of his form practically hovering over her at this point. And he was so close to her. She could feel light tickles from his beard on her cheek.

“Nah, baby,” he confidently reassured her. “We’re too good at this shit.”

“Famous last words,” she chuckled, though she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing delicately against the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

“Yeah?” she challenged, sliding her hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Prove it.”

With a smirk, Joe shifted, rolling over so he could press his body entirely on top of hers. The bed creaked slightly, and they both froze, glancing around to make sure no one had woken up. Satisfied that their secret was still safe, they relaxed.

“What was that about ‘I got this’?” she lightly scolded, emulating his voice the best she could in her whispered tone.

“Shh…” With that, he pressed his lips down against hers, the hand that rested on her hip coming up to hold the side of her neck. He kissed her with a hunger that spoke of all the nights they had to keep their distance, the desire that had been simmering just below the surface finally boiling over. She returned it with equal fervour, trailing her fingers up to his man bun and feeling where the couple of hours being laid down had taken a toll on its usually pristine quality.

“Take this out,” she mumbled against his lips. “I like when your hair’s down.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. It was a relief to take it out, to let it fall down and create a protective shield around their faces as he went back in for another kiss. It deepened, tips of tongues prodding against each other until they were fully entwined in an intense dance. Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath his skin, the same way Joe traced the contours of her curves with a reverence that made her feel like a Goddess.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he breathed out in a gravelly whisper.

“Me too,” she admitted.

They were lost in each other, the world outside their bubble of desire forgotten. Joe’s hands slipped under her shirt, the heat of his touch against her bare skin making her gasp softly. He paused, his eyes searching hers in the small beams of light from outside, asking for silent permission.

She nodded, her breath hitching as his hands continued their exploration upwards. He pushed the fabric up, exposing her round breasts to the cool air and his heated gaze. Following the path of his hands, Joe’s lips made a tender journey down her neck, nipping and sucking lightly, before they stopped at her chest. Pressing kisses to her skin. Tip of his tongue tracing slow patterns along it until one of her hard nubs made contact. Thick lips wrapped around, kissing and suckling like he’d never get to again. Branding possession and desire.

“Joe,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

“Shh, we gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he reminded her, words muffled against the supple skin as he moved to pay the same exquisite attention to her other breast. “Don’t wanna wake the others.”

The reminder of their precarious situation only added to the intensity, causing her to unintentionally roll her hips up towards his. His hands were everywhere, mapping her body with a familiarity that was both comforting and thrilling. Her own hands were just as eager, exploring the hard planes of his chest. His heart pounding beneath her palm, a mirror to her own racing pulse.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

She smiled, a flush of pleasure spreading through her at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself, big guy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her. “Glad you think so.”

Coming back up to her lips, she barely had time to readjust before his long, tepid fingers slipped under the fabric of her shorts and her panties. Another sharp gasp escaped her lips, internally cringing at how loud it was. God forbid, if anyone actually knew what they were doing…

“Easy, baby. Just let me take care of you.”

The pads of his fingers stroked over her slick folds, gently… teasingly. A moan rose in her throat, causing her to clamp her teeth down on Joe’s lower lip to suppress the sound.

“Damn, baby, you’re this wet already?”

“Yes,” she managed to breathe as he pressed heated kisses down the side of her neck. His middle fingers teased the smooth surface of her tiny, sensitive pearl, and she once again was forced to keep her noises to a minimum.

“Good girl,” he praised her efforts, rewarding her by pressing his fingers down firmer, further, until they slipped inside her with a smooth, practised motion.

The sensation was almost too much to bear. She clung to him, her nails digging into his bare shoulders as he began to move, digits sliding in and out in a slow and calculated motion. God only knew he wanted to finger fuck the shit out of her, but he knew that would cause unnecessary noise and a climax too short lived.

“God, how you always feel this good?” he groaned softly.

She whimpered, biting her lip to stifle it. His fingers curled upwards in their movements, pressing closer to her sweet spot. Driving her wild. Coiling her pleasure. Tighter. And tighter.

“Look at you,” he peered over her writhing form in awe. “So gorgeous… so ready for me, huh?”

Her response was a tight grip on the back of his head.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered hotly against her neck. “Tell me how you want it.”

“M-more…” She pathetically sighed. “Please, Joe…”

He chuckled softly, feeling a familiar twitch between his own legs. “Anything for you, doll,” he obliged happily, fingers picking up speed and his thumb finding her clit easily to glide against it in tandem with the rhythm he had curated on her body.

A gasp, an arch, a flutter around his fingers, and he knew. “Feel that?” he whispered in a seductive, dark purr. “Feel how close you are?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Oh, God, yes…”

“Atta girl,” he cooed down at her, propping himself up on his arm and pressing his forehead down on hers. “Cum, baby.”

Noticing her characteristic shudder, the way her eyebrows furrowed when a release was approaching, he took the initiative to manoeuvre his free hand to cover her mouth, baring down enough pressure for her to bite onto it as she rippled and arched into him. Her cunt throbbed and tightened around his fingers, and he watched with parted lips as she came so hard.

“That’s it,” he murmured in a soothing rumble. “Just like that…”

As she came down from her high, twitches and aftershock present, he carefully withdrew his fingers. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his hand smoothing over her hair. Another kiss came quickly, but not without Joe taking an expert taste of his own fingers, where Y/N’s honey coated him with a thick sheen. She tasted herself as he swirled his long tongue around hers, hand stroking back his hair to thread her fingers through the dark tendrils.

It was almost sad, kissing him in that moment. The way she gripped onto him as though she was solidifying how he felt in her mind, capturing the memory; they never knew the next time they’d get to be together.

“Joe…” Y/N whispered. “I need you… so bad.”

“I know, babygirl,” he sighed, peppering small kisses along her jaw. “But as much as I’d love for you to nut on this dick right now, it might be wiser to wait ‘til I can have you alone.”

She whimpered impatiently, making Joe stifle a laugh by burying his face in her neck. “Don’t make me laugh,” he murmured, clearly grinning.

“I’m not trying to…” she giggled softly, biting her lip. They really just did that, in the same room as their sleeping friends. Damn. “Fuck, Joe, we’re totally gonna get found out soon if we keep this up.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lifting his head to gaze down at her. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, baby.”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone would love to know that you just fingered me a metre away from their sleeping bodies.”

“They will know if you don’t keep it down,” he chuckled. “That bein’ said, we should probably try and get some sleep, huh?”

Y/N frowned, but reluctantly nodded, knowing he would have to leave her bed and return to his spot on the floor. “Where are we heading in the morning?”

“Uh,” Joe hummed, carefully pulling himself back up into a seated position. “Atlanta, I think.”

“Sit next to me on the bus?” she half-asked.

“You sure you wanna do that? Y’know… considering we’re ‘totally gonna get found out soon’?” He sent her a cocky smirk, silently moving himself back to the floor. She rolled over to the edge of the bed so she could still see him. 

“I don’t care… I’ve missed you,” she told him earnestly. It was true; they really hadn’t seen as much of each other lately, which is ironic when you consider the fact they were currently on the road. It just meant eyes were on them more than usual. 

With an understanding exhale, Joe reached over and held the side of her face, stroking over her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve missed you too, baby.”

“So sit with me tomorrow, please,” she practically begged, leaning into his touch.

“I’m not sayin’ no, am I?” he answered with a soft laugh. “Now, go to sleep, ‘kay? It’ll be more suspicious if we’re both tired.”

“Yes, Dad,” Y/N playfully retorted, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll remind you you called me that, as well.”

“I’m sure you fucking will, Big Dog.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Morning crept into the room with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the thin curtains. The peaceful quiet of the night gave way to the gentle sounds of stirring bodies and muffled groans of discomfort.

“Ugh, my back,” Jon complained, rolling over on the cramped armchair. “Why did I think sleeping on here was a good idea?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Colby mumbled, pulling Becky closer to him. “Pass me that pillow, will ya?” Becky groaned, grabbing the pillow that had fallen off Gi’s bed in the middle of the night, and flinging it back in Colby’s direction.

Gi, still half-asleep, rolled over and bumped into Mercedes, who let out a sleepy groan. “Move over, you bed hog,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow she hugged tightly.

“When did you get there?” Gi mumbled, squinting her eyes as she searched for her glasses somewhere in the bed, realising she must have passed out with them on. 

“When I decided the corner was too damn uncomfortable,” Mercedes bluntly responded.

Y/N slowly opened her eyes, the events of the night playing on a loop in her mind, extended into a pleasurable dream. She sat up, eyes adjusting to the daylight as she surveyed the room. No Joe, just a messy blanket and his balled up jacket from where he had slept. 

“Ahh!” Mercedes let out a yelp as the hotel door began to open, almost hitting her in the process. “Oh, it’s you—what the fuck, man?”

“Sorry, didn’t realise your stupid ass was standin’ in the way,'' Joe's sleepy, but cheery laugh echoed as he emerged, shutting the door behind him. He’d changed his clothes, now wearing his grey shorts and a hoodie, and his hair was back to its pristine nature, perfectly slicked back into a bun.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Colby strained his neck from the floor to look up at him.

“My room? We have rooms, guys, did you know that?” he nudged Colby with his knee as he attempted to sit up. His next stop was Y/N’s bed, where he placed her keycard down on the table beside it, giving her a small smile. 

“You took my key?”

“I’ve been awake for, like, two hours. Needed to get out for a bit, take a shower, y’know,” he shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed to collect his stuff from the floor. He made a point to brush against Y/N’s arm as he did, making her bite back a smile. “You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a nod. “You?”

“Better than expected,” he said, sending a smirk over his shoulder.

Across the room, Colby struggled to stand, stretching his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn. “Alright, who’s up for breakfast?”

“Count me in,” Jon said, finally rolling off the armchair and onto the floor with a thud. “As long as it’s not cornflakes.”

Gi sat up, her hair a wild halo around her head. “Can we get coffee first? I need coffee.”

“Coffee sounds so good right now,” Mercedes agreed, brushing her fingers through her hair and rubbing at her neck. “And a chiropractor.”

By the time breakfast was had and everyone had dispersed back to their own rooms, Gi and Y/N started the gruelling task of packing what little they took out of their bags and tidying the room of empty cans and pizza boxes.

“They could have helped us,” Gi sighed as she tried to clumsily shove a pizza box into a trash bag.

“Joe offered,” Y/N shrugged, working on picking up cans and any other scraps of trash. Gi glanced up at her, narrowing her eyes with a cheeky smile.

“Did he?”

Y/N met her gaze, raising an eyebrow at her friend quizzically. “Yeah, he did. But he still had a fuckload left to pack, so I told him we could handle it.”

“Oh,” Gi simply hummed, a grin spreading across her face, unbeknownst to Y/N.

Y/N tried her utmost hardest to avoid eye contact after that, knowing that if she looked at Gi for too long, it would be impossible not to spill everything that happened. And after complaining to Joe herself about the possibility of anyone finding out about them, it would seem somewhat counterproductive and ironic on her end.

When the pair was ready to leave, their WhatsApp group chat dinging with confirmations of the same, Gi leaned over to Y/N as she opened their door.

“Oh, by the way, Y/N, about last night,” Gi started.

“Yeah?” Y/N answered as she shut the door behind them, the two of them now standing in the hallway. She caught glimpses of fresh-faced superstars that weren’t in their room last night, who took more pride in their night routines on the road than anything else, greeting them from afar with a warm smile.

“The next time you and Joe fool about, make sure we’re all actually asleep before you do.”

[bratzforchris]

Billionaire Baby

❃

Summary: In which Luke pays off your tuition in full and only asks for one thing in return

Pairing: Sugar daddy and investment banker!Luke x sub!reader

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, nonsexual submission, overstimulation, jacuzzi fucking, doggy style, mentions of free use, unprotected p in v, fingering, underage drinking given to reader by Luke, sugar daddy mentions, student (university/18+) x older male relationship, bondage, Luke has an obedience kink, overall really fucking filthy and a bit fluffy ;)

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Luke leans more towards boyfriend instead of sugar daddy than I originally planned, but I still adore this work anyway. I put my heart and soul into this piece, so reblogs are much appreciated :)!

DNI under 18

❃

“What the fuck…” You mumbled, scrolling through your email. 

You were sitting in the library, trying to study for your upcoming biochem exam, but failing a bit. You were getting distracted by everything, hence why you were scrolling through your email on your laptop instead of studying. The email was from two hours ago and it was asking you to come to the dean’s office today at three for a meeting. 

You began to panic a bit, wondering why on earth the dean wanted to have a meeting with you. You had never, ever been in trouble academically or ever, for that matter. You were a bit behind on your loan payments, but not so much they were rescinding your admission, right? You cursed when you realized that it was currently two-thirty, and the dean’s office was on the other side of campus. 

Quickly shoving your laptop, books, and stationery into your bookbag, you hurried out of the library that you loved oh-so-dearly. Going to Columbia University had been your dream since second grade, and that day that you saw the main library on your tour in tenth grade just confirmed that this was the school for you. 

You slowed your pace a bit when you got closer to the building, taking a moment to soak in the crisp, fall air and the splotches of autumn that decorated the New York City sidewalks. You pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself and hurried up the steps of the School of Professional Studies. 

“Hi,” You whispered quietly to the lady at the front desk as you signed in. 

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, eyeing you up and down. “You’re a very lucky girl.” she winked. 

You furrowed your brow, wanting to ask what she meant, but not wanting to be rude. You eventually just shook your head and sat down in the lobby while you waited to be called back. This was a huge school, full of children of the rich and famous. She must’ve had you confused with someone else. 

“Y/N Y/L/N?” the dean asked, walking out into the lobby. “Follow me.”

You quickly picked up your backpack and followed him, deep into the building where his office was sat. You struggled a bit to keep up with his long strides, being a bit out of breath when you finally reached his office. 

“Take a seat,” he said not unkindly, opening the door for you. “This will be quick.”

You took a tentative seat on one of the down chairs on the opposite side of the desk, trying to control your breathing. You were afraid your features would show your fear, so you tried to keep your face even. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, you are extremely lucky…” he started. “Your tuition has been paid in full by an anonymous donor, to include everything you will need to complete your undergraduate degree.” he smiled. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying to stay polite, but also wanting to know what the fuck was going on. 

“Someone has paid your tuition in full. Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“I…no…” You said, hoping the blush wouldn’t creep onto your cheeks. 

You knew exactly who it was. There was only one person in your life that had that much money. Ivy League schooling wasn’t cheap, after all. You wouldn’t tell the dean who it was, though. That wouldn’t be good for a number of reasons. 

“Enjoy your time here at Columbia, Y/N. You’re free to go.” the dean smiled, nodding towards the door. 

You stood on shaky legs and walked out of the room, trying to process what you had just heard. No more student loan payments, no more living paycheck-to-paycheck, no more working at your shitty fast food job until 2 am. You pulled your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and typed out a message as you walked out of the building and stood on the steps. 

You: was it you???

Luke: Was what me, darling?

You: you know exactly what i’m talking about

You sighed, deciding to walk the half a block to your favorite cafe while you waited for Luke’s response. Your relationship with the blond was complicated. He wasn’t quite your sugar daddy, but he also wasn’t fully your boyfriend. It was never meant to spiral into a relationship, but Luke made you want more. Being a Columbia graduate himself, you had met him at a philanthropy event last spring. You had shared drinks and dancing, before he took you back to his large penthouse for a hook-up. 

Ever since then, Luke had made it clear that he enjoyed your company. He spoiled you beyond belief, both with material things and with a very active sex life. Being a Wall Street investment banker had given him the attitude that he would take what he wanted, and you were no exception. As much as you were an independent woman in your studies, having Luke in your life took some of the stress away. Going over to his place after a long day of classes, only to receive a mountain of physical affection and usually a gift or two, was just what you needed. 

Just as you finished ordering your chai latte, your phone pinged with a new message. You sat down at a cozy table in the corner and pulled out your laptop while you waited for your coffee, looking over the text. 

Luke: Come over. You’re done with classes for today, right?

Luke: I’ll order dinner. 

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen loose from your braid behind your ear. You quickly typed out a message, thumbs flying across the screen. Even as frustrated as you were at the possibility of Luke paying off all of your tuition, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him. 

You: getting coffee, then i will&lt;3

You smiled when Luke typed back three red hearts. He was never one for emojis, mostly because of how professional he was. Every now and then though, you were the lucky one to see that softer, less-professional side of him. As soon as your coffee was placed in your hand, you dashed out the cafe door, walking towards the nearest subway station to catch the train to Luke’s apartment at the southern end of Central Park. 

Your heart was absolutely racing as you got closer and closer to the blond. Luke was unlike anyone you had ever met. He had an almost electric pull on you. Luke bore a striking resemblance to a prince, or maybe a king. The way he commanded his office and then carried that dominance home to you was probably the hottest thing you had ever experienced in your twenty years of life. 

As soon as the subway pulled up to your stop, you were leaping off the train and up the stairs to the sidewalk. As soon as you got out of the tunnel, you couldn’t help but to crane your neck. No matter how many times you came to Luke’s apartment, you couldn’t help but to be in utter awe when you came upon Billionaire’s Row. The sky-high buildings made of glass and steel were highlighted so beautifully by the rest of the city lights. 

You hurried your pace a bit, eager to see Luke inside of one of those penthouse suites. Eventually, you came upon the building that you knew all too well. Walking inside the lobby, the man at the front desk smiled at you, his name tag reading Randy. 

“He’s home,” he smiled. “Right over here.”

“Thanks,” You smiled. “I don’t mind taking the regular elevator, y’know.”

“Oh, please. Take this one.” he unlocked the private elevator that would take you directly to Luke’s apartment. 

“Thank you,” You smiled as the doors began to close when you stepped in. “I’ll see you later?”

“If you leave tonight.” Randy chuckled. 

As soon as you were on your way up, your heart began to flutter faster. You hadn’t seen Luke in a few days because the stock market had been picking up and so had your classes, which made you so beyond eager to be around him once again. The elevator dinged and the doors to Luke’s apartment opened. 

You stepped out onto the plushy, white carpet, looking around for the blond. “Luke?”

“Hey baby,” he hummed, coming out of the kitchen and wrapping you in a hug. “Miss me?”

You giggled when he buried his face in your neck, his stubble scratching your neck. “I did.” You said sweetly. 

As soon as Luke pulled back, you looked up into his deep blue eyes before speaking again. “Luke, were you the ‘anonymous donor’ that paid my tuition?”

“I was. What? I can’t spoil my girl?” he led you into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down. 

“Luke,” You insisted. “I never said that, but that’s hundreds of thousands of dollars. You don’t need to do that.”

“Watch your mouth, princess.” Luke gave you a stern look as he poured you a glass of Merlot. 

You blushed, shrinking under his gaze. Even when it wasn’t sexual, Luke had a dominant aire about him. Maybe it was because he worked in such a high power industry, or maybe it was just the way he was, but the blond made you want to submit to him, clinging onto his every word. 

“I just want to make sure we’re, y’know, equal. I want to make sure you feel loved, too.”

Luke slid the wine glass across the island to you, where you had taken a seat at the bar. “I don’t need that.”

You snorted. “Contrary to popular belief, you like feeling loved too.” You craned your neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

Luke rolled his eyes, walking around the island and wrapping his arms around your midsection. “So you wanna know how you can make me feel appreciated?”

“If you wanna call it that, sure.” You shrugged. 

“You can be my little toy for the next week. You’re free use for me,” he smirked, growling softly in your ear. “You think that’s equal?”

You nodded quickly, knowing Luke was going to take free advantage of the week, but not caring. “I think so.” You giggled. 

“You know I love you, right?” Luke asked. “I don’t want you worrying about your tuition anymore. It’s done, it’s taken care of. You’re going to relax and let me make you feel good, darling.” he hummed, massaging your shoulders. 

You blushed under the subtle dominance of Luke’s words, relaxing into his touch. You nudged your head into Luke’s chest and he chuckled softly, knowing exactly what you wanted. 

“You’re so cute when you need me, baby girl.” he picked you, holding you under the ass and abandoning your wine glass on the counter so he could carry you to his large master bedroom. 

You laid your head on his shoulder, speaking out a soft ‘I love you’. It had been a long day between classes and the stress of the news you’d received and now you just needed Luke to take care of you so you could relax for a little while. 

Luke placed you down on his soft, silken sheets when you reached his bedroom, humming softly. “On your knees, honey.”

You did as he asked, kneeling softly and looking up at your dom with soft doe eyes.  You were practically reeling with relaxation and happiness over Luke’s validation. You watched him softly while he bustled around the room, taking off his watch and getting things ready for the night. 

“Good girl, baby,” Luke praised you. “You’re doing perfect, honey.”

“Thank you.” You said sweetly, knowing Luke enjoyed it when you responded verbally. 

“Go wait in the bathroom for me, honey. I’ll be there soon.” Luke told you, looking at you sternly but speaking softly. 

You scampered off to Luke’s luxurious bathroom, wondering what he had in mind. Usually, he would dom you in bed. You wasted no time on kneeling on the bath mat beside the jacuzzi tub, still fully clothed. If there was one thing you loved to do, it was be Luke’s sub. Something about letting someone else take the reins and guide you, sexually or not, helped you relieve your stress from attending such a demanding university. 

Luke didn’t make you wait long. He came into the bathroom and saw you kneeling, giving you immediate praise. “Look at you, honey. Waiting like a good girl.” he cooed, flashing that million-dollar smile that had been on the cover of Forbes magazine last month. 

You blushed, giggling softly. You could feel yourself slipping into subspace, that floaty feeling taking over your head as Luke fussed over you and took care of you. You leaned into his touch as he ran a hand through your hair, before moving to start the bath water. 

“Nothing like a nice bath to help you relax, right love?” he smirked. “Arms up.”

You did as the blond asked and Luke pulled off your sweater. He left your glasses on, but reached for the button on your jeans. Luke slowly helped you stand up and then pulled your pants and your panties off, trailing little kisses from your collarbone down to your pubic bone. You could feel the way your body had completely relaxed into your subspace, molding like jelly at whatever Luke told you to do. 

The blond fiddled with the settings on the tub, turning on the jets and adding the red lights, which were his absolute favorite. Luke put your favorite, rose-scented bath bomb into the tub before speaking. “Get in the bath, honey.”

You stepped into the large jacuzzi tub, holding Luke’s hand and sinking into the warm, fizzy water. “Thank you.”

Luke smirked, enjoying the way your face was tulip-pink at all the attention being showered on you by him. He wasn’t going to push you today; he had seen the stress lines that had burrowed their way deep onto your face. Besides, you two still needed to have the tuition conversation and he didn’t want you to be totally fucked out for that. Just enough to help you relax. 

“I think you need some entertainment while you’re in the bath, hmm? Wouldn’t want you getting distracted…” he smirked, running his ring-clad pointer finger under your chin. 

You immediately rested your chin on the ledge of the large tub, watching Luke with expectant eyes. He pulled back for a moment, just enough to make sure you were fully paying attention, but not enough to make you panic. Luke began to undo the buttons of his white shirt, smirking at you as he teased you so fucking slowly, ringed fingers pulsing as he worked. 

Letting out a few soft, sensual moans didn’t seem to phase the blond. He simply continued to slowly undress, making sure you were watching the whole time. He wasn’t not not acknowledging you, but he also wasn’t giving you the attention you were oh-so-craving. Finally, Luke came to his gray, Calvin Klein boxers. He slid them off slowly, smirking at you as he did so. 

“Mmmm, want you to dom me, Luke. Please. It’s so big.” You whined. 

“Ahh ahh, we don’t whine, honey. I think you forgot to ask nicely, hmm?” Luke stood towering over you, completely naked, but in all his godlike authority. 

Even in your fuzzy subspace, you could see why all of Luke’s female assistants fawned over him. He looked like something sent straight from Mount Olympus with his blond curls, perfect nose, and regal body type. He had a commanding aura about him, no matter what he was doing, and despite his multiple (yes, multiple) PhDs from different Ivy League universities, it was easy to understand how he did so well in the New York Stock Exchange. 

“Sorry sir,” You whispered out. “Can you please dom me?” You asked in a sultry tone. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Luke planted a kiss on your head as he stepped into the tub with you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

You giggled and blushed, still kneeling even in the bath. You kept your eyes trained on Luke, which proved a difficult task from here. Luke’s master bathroom was made up of crystal clear glass windows that allowed for a view of practically the whole city since he lived on the 69th floor.  With the sun starting to fade into a hazy dusk and the lights of the skyscrapers popping on one-by-one, it was hard not to get distracted, but you wanted Luke’s pleasure much more than you wanted to enjoy the view. 

You and Luke sat face-to-face, and he watched your eyes intently, wondering what joys he would unlock tonight. He began to rub your thigh up and down with his hand under the soapy water, keeping his eyes trained on you. 

“Relax, pretty girl,” he whispered. “Just let me take care of you.”

You began to relax under Luke’s touch and gaze, that is, until he began to sneak his fingers closer and closer to your opening. You unconsciously clenched your thighs around Luke’s hand, your nerves sensitive. You began to whimper, wiggling your hips closer to meet his fingers. 

“Oh god.” You whined. 

Luke smirked, running his fingers along your wet slit and trailing it over your clit. He smirked as he did so, scooting closer to you. “I want you to cum all over my fingers, princess. Get all that stressed properly fucked out.”

You moaned, thrusting your hips against Luke’s pulsating fingers. The blond began to make small, raindrop-like pulses on your electric spot, enjoying the view as you squirmed under him, practically riding his fingers. 

“Good girl, honey. Takin’ it like the slutty little school girl that you are.” he coached you. 

Your climax was beginning to build up, and you couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that escaped from your mouth as Luke finger-fucked you. As he tapped near your clit, he used three fingers on the other hand to slowly slide them in and out of your pussy. 

“That’s it, baby. That feel good? Yeah?” he smiled, knowing you were entirely too close to say anything other than small ‘yes’’s and ‘uh huh’’s. 

You were nearly crying as you tried to hold yourself back from clenching and cumming all over Luke’s fingers until he told you to do so. Your sex was absolutely throbbing with the way Luke was touching you, and the warm water from the tub was not making it any easier. 

“Luke,” You nearly screamed out. “Making me need to cum.”

The blond gave one last time of really working up your rhythm, before kissing your chest. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You quickly released, and your walls began to clench around Luke’s fingers, coating them in your cum. The blond coached you through your climax, offering lots of praise and compliments. 

“You are so pretty when you cum, princess,” he cooed when you had finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Takin’ my fingers like a good girl.”

You blushed under Luke’s words, leaning your head against his shoulder when he pulled you into his bare chest, hand running up and down your side. Luke had an almost intoxicating way of making your orgasms one of the most exhausting, but best, things you did. 

“I think you need one more for good measure. Make sure all that stress is properly fucked out, yeah?” he asked you. 

You quickly nodded, never saying no to Luke pleasuring you. The blond ran his fingers through your hair and down your face and upper body, making sure to keep you fully relaxed in subspace. Because you were essentially sitting on his lap, you could feel Luke’s cock hardening under you and you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. 

“Turn around on your knees, honey,” Luke coached, moving you off his lap. “Right over the jet.” 

Doing as Luke asked, you had to bite your lip at the sensation of the rushing water tingling your clit. “Oh.” You moaned. 

The blue-eyed man chuckled, caressing your upper back. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, princess?” he whispered in your ear. 

You nodded, gripping the edge of the tub to keep yourself steady. Luke grabbed his white button-down that he had oh-so-conveniently placed on the tub ledge. He quickly used it to wrap your hands around the faucet. 

“I want to make sure you enjoy this in the right way.”

You moaned at Luke’s erotic words, angling your hips back so that your ass would meet Luke’s boner. He pulled you back by the hips slowly, offering you lots of praise as your body melted like butter in his hands, allowing him to touch where and however. The blond told you to stay on your knees and lean forward into your bond, angling your back, and you whined as you felt the pressure placed on your already sensitive pussy, even without Luke’s dick. 

Luke was practically a sex expert, and he knew your anatomy almost better than you did. That being said, he knew he needed to take you from behind in order to hit your G-spot. Your second orgasm was always faster than the first, and he wanted to make sure that he would get the pleasure of you cumming not only on his fingers, but on his dick as well. 

He slowly straddled you from behind, his hips pushing into your ass, before inserting only his tip into you. The pleasure on the blond’s face was evident as he heard you release tiny moans and pants, already nearly overstimulated, just from an inch of him inside you. 

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckled. “Did studying all day wear you out? Made you nice and needy for my dick, baby?” 

You moaned, nodding your head and straddling against your restraints. “Yes…” You breathed out. “Yes sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Good girl.” Luke slid more of his dick inside of you, painstakingly teasing you. 

You pushed your ass further against him, trying to take as much of him into you as possible. Luke was a big fan of doggy style and you had gone through this many times before; Luke didn’t give in to what you wanted right away, but nevertheless, you always tried. You tried desperately to distract yourself by looking out at the scenic cityspace in front of you, but the view was no match for the magic that was Luke. 

“You are so fucking hot when you listen to me, Y/N,” Luke growled, tugging on the ends of your hair slightly. “Obeying just the way you’re supposed to like a good sugar baby.”

You moaned, craning your neck back and arching your back as the jets overstimulated your clit and electric spot and Luke’s dick teased your hole. “Uh huh…oh god, Luke.” You whined. 

Finally, after what felt like forever to you, Luke slammed all eight inches of himself inside of you, bucking his hips so that you could feel his shaft pulsating. He began to ride you at an almost frenzy rhythm, slamming his hips into yours so that the sound of skin hitting skin and jacuzzi water splashing echoed around the room. The blond knew that if people in other high-rises looked hard enough, they could see him riding you doggy-style within an inch of your life. He didn’t care, though. You wanted to act like a good sub that was practically begging with your eyes for a slutty fuck, that’s what you would get. Besides, billionaires were too scandalous themselves to speak about their colleagues’ sex lives. 

“Luke,” You nearly sobbed out, overstimulated by the jets rocking your clit and Luke railing you from behind. “Need to cum.”

Your second orgasm was always faster than your first and you could feel the tight ball building up in your lower stomach, begging to be released. The overstimulation from pressure on your clit and penetration from Luke was having tears running down your cheeks. Luke wasn’t letting up though. He wanted you to be so worn out that you could just relax and let him take care of you. 

“You can cum, honey,” he hummed, fucking into you one last time before slapping your ass. “Cum all over my dick.”

You immediately did as told, crying out and straining against your bond as you released your climax. “Uh uh…feels so good.” You panted out, walls clenching around his cock. 

Luke rubbed your back as you did so, gently guiding you through it. “That’s it. Good girl. Cumming all over my dick.”

You moaned loudly, thoroughly exhausted. “Thank you.”

“Ah ah,” he tutted. “You’re not done yet, baby girl,” Luke slowly untied the shirt that had bonded you. “Turn around.” he huffed coldly. 

You did as he asked, looking up at him through your lashes. He had a smirk on his face, body radiating dominance and power as he lifted your heads above your head and tied them once again to the faucet with the shirt, only this time, you were facing him.

“You really thought you were gonna be done without me getting my pleasure off you?” the blond asked. 

You blushed under his gaze, unconsciously bucking your hips to meet his. “Use me. I love you, so use me.” You panted. 

“Think you need a nice facial to help you relax, hmm sweetie?”

You nodded quickly, knowing what Luke was getting at. “Please.” You said, eyeing his massively-hard boner. 

Luke began to pump himself with his right hand, rings still on. It was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen, with his head thrown back, blond curls wet and plastered to his forehead, and his muscles bulging as he worked himself. You wiggled in the grasp of his white shirt, moaning loudly. You were beginning to get cold in the water without his body on you and you were making it very clear that you wanted him again. 

“Gonna cum, baby.” he huffed out. 

“Do it. Cum all over me, sir.” You whined in a sultry voice. 

Luke didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately came all over your face, coating your eyes and cheeks in white ropes of cum. 

“God, baby. So pretty.” he said, watching you blink the cum out of your eyelashes as he rode out his high. 

You blushed. “It’s because of you.”

Luke reached for a washcloth in the fine basket beside the large tub and dipped it into the water, slowly wiping your face off with the warm, wet rag. “I love seeing you when you know you belong to me, princess.” he crooned. 

You giggled softly, loving the floaty feeling that was coming from being in your subspace. “Thank you.”

The blue-eyed man continued to wash you off with the cloth, removing the stickiness from your face and body. Luke looked over and realized he had left a crystal champagne flute by the tub the night before. 

“Do you need your hair washed, princess?” he asked. 

You immediately nodded, absolutely loving it when Luke washed your hair. “Please.”

Luke smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead before using the flute as a sort of cup to wet your hair and using his own shampoo (which was vanilla scented, but no one else needed to know) to wash your hair. You melted under his touch, allowing Luke to take full control, directing you to close your eyes and lean your head back so he could wash your hair. 

“All done, honey. Sit in the bath while I dry off.”

His words hardly registered in your brain. The wonderful feeling of being totally fucked out and having someone wash your hair had made you so sleepy. Luke quickly stepped out of the jacuzzi, wrapping a plush, white towel around himself and grabbing his phone from the vanity. The view of you naked, fucked out, in his huge jacuzzi and against the background of crystal-clear glass and the lights of Billionaire’s Row in Manhattan was too pretty for him not to snap a photo of. 

The blond quickly dried himself off and dressed in a pair of cozy gray sweats with no shirt. No matter how much money he made off of Wall Street, that outfit would always be his pajamas. Luke pulled the plug in the tub, lifting you out of the tub easily and wrapping you in a pink towel with your initials monogrammed that you left at his apartment for hookups like tonight. 

“Kneel, honey, so I can dry you off,” he told you. “Good girl.”

You melted under Luke’s touch as he dried you off and lathered you with sweet-smelling lotion. He slipped your red, silken nightie with lace details over your head before picking you up. Being your sugar daddy, he figured it was only fair to spoil you after you had pleasured him so well and that was exactly what he planned on doing. Luke carried you to bed, tucking you in softly. “What are you feeling for dinner, baby?” 

You shrugged, feeling so sleepy and out of it. “You pick.”

“Nope, it’s your night, princess.” he chuckled softly. 

“You already did, well, what you did today with the money and all. Let me order it.” You said, reaching for your phone. 

“No ma’am,” Luke jerked it back. “You’re going to let me spoil you. You have two choices, baby. Seafood or steak.”

“..steak. Thank you.” You blushed. 

Even though you had known Luke since the spring, you were still getting used to the whole “sugar daddy” thing. It was still rather unfamiliar to you to let someone else care for you, especially someone as rich as Luke. The blond easily ordered the food from both his and your favorite Michelin Star restaurant, easily curling up in bed with you after. 

“Thank you for today. For everything. Are you sure it’s okay?” You asked quietly. 

“Princess, I told you. The only thing you owe me is free use of that slutty little body for the next week.” he told you, burying his face into your neck as he spooned you. 

You blushed and giggled softly, pushing yourself further into him. “That sounds good to me. But seriously, thank you. Helping me with my education means more to me than you know.”

“I know. That’s why I did it. Besides, smart girls are hot girls.” he smirked. 

You happily cuddled into Luke’s side, sighing happily. And if Luke spent the rest of the night being beyond soft and caring for you, no one else had to know. 

[little-diable]

Too Sweet - Dean Winchester (smut)

Of course I had to write something with one of Hozier's new songs. We aren't surprised, are we? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader are stuck in a back-and-forth they can't escape from, until his jealousy manages to push her away from him. But Dean won't let her go, he just won't.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, some jealousy/possessiveness, quite fluffy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.3k words)

It can't be said I'm an early bird, it’s 10 o'clock before I say a word, baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?

“Dean, c’mon! We have to go.” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through the Bunker, hands pressed to her sides as she called for the older Winchester brother. Annoyance was flushing through her system, already fed up with Dean not managing to get up on time, already fed up with how he went against everything she told him. “If you don’t get up, I’ll kill you in your–”

The door to his room was pushed open before (y/n) could finish her sentence, eyes staring at Dean. He wore his signature smirk, arms crossed in front of his chest to study her as he leaned against the door frame. 

“You will kill me where?” His voice still had the morning rasp to it that left her thighs trembling, unable to say something as Dean reached for her, pulling (y/n) flush against him. Her breath hitched in her chest, her heart pounding against her ribcage as if she had just finished fighting a supernatural being. “Speak when you’re asked to.”

“Fuck you!” She ripped herself free as Dean’s loud laughter clawed through him, high on the feeling of (y/n) pressed against him. Heat flushed through her as she turned from him, putting some distance between her and Dean before he could taunt her some more. 

For years, the two had been stuck in the same circle, a back and forth that never crossed any lines, just filled with teasing, bickering, and some unspoken heartbreak whenever one of them took somebody else to bed. A circle both desperately wanted to escape from, a circle both hated more than words could express, a circle neither of them managed to speak of to the other.

……

You keep tellin' me to live right, to go to bed before th​​e daylight, but then you wake up for the sunrise, you know you don't gotta pretend

She had her eyes focused on Dean, how he was leaning against the bar with a beer in his hand, with his eyes focused on the blonde woman standing close to him. Anger was flushing through (y/n)’s veins, wondering if he simply wanted to taint her, to annoy her some more after a day filled with bickering, or if he was genuinely interested in the woman who looked like all others he had chatted up in the past weeks. 

“You look lonely.” A voice spoke up, forcing her out of her thoughts. (Y/n)’s gaze found the dark eyes of a man standing close to her. For a second, she wanted to push him away, to tell him to leave her alone, but knowing that she was desperate for any kind of distraction guided her words right out of her mouth. 

“Seems like it.” He sat down next to her, and let his eyes wander over her features, while (y/n) managed to look back at Dean once again. She almost choked on her sip of beer as she found him staring at her from the bar, lips pulled into a thin line, jaw muscles ticking in anger. “What’s your name?”

“Mike, and yours?” A smile began to widen on (y/n)’s lips, urged on by the feeling of Dean’s intense gaze, knowing that he now felt the same annoyance she had felt only moments ago. (Y/n) murmured her name, but no further word managed to leave her. 

She felt him before she saw him, with goosebumps rising on her skin, with her breaths growing shallow, with her mind and her heart racing. Dean came to a halt next to (y/n), staring at Mike before his dark green eyes found hers. Without speaking another word, he cupped her cheek, leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. 

The kiss was over before she could begin to freak out, not sparing Mike, who left the two without another word, a thought. Neither Dean nor (y/n) spoke up, wide eyes staring at one another as both began to realise that they had just shared their first kiss. 

“What the fuck, Dean?” She gave him a push away, reached for her jacket and pushed past Dean before he could say something. For years she had waited for a kiss, needing to feel his lips pressed against hers, imagining feeling him close. But now, as it had happened because Dean had tried to prove something to himself and perhaps to her, she couldn’t find any enjoyment in it.

The cold night clashed against her warm face, she tried to blink her angry tears away as he called her name, catching up with (y/n) within seconds. Dean’s hand clamped down on her wrist, forcing (y/n) to a sudden halt.

“How dare you?” (Y/n) spat her words as she ripped her hand from Dean's grasp, wrapping her arms around her middle as if she were hugging herself. There was something swimming in his pupils, something that tightened her throat, that made her mouth feel dry. 

“Why are you so angry?” A scoff clawed through her, a sound so angry that Dean was close to taking a step away from her, close to flinching. For a few moments, all they did was stare at one another, eyes not daring to break contact, even as her tears resurfaced, blurring (y/n)’s vision. 

“For years I wait for you to kiss me. For years I had to watch you chat up some women who weren't me. And then you kiss me to prove some fucked up point? You kiss me to push away a man who showed some form of interest in me. And for what? For what Dean?” Her words worked like a slap, forcing him to quiet down. (Y/n) turned from him again, she began walking, took about five steps before she came to another halt. “I don’t want to see you again for a while, you can work the case on your own.” 

And for the first time since knowing Dean, she hoped that he’d chase her, that he’d force her to give in. But he didn’t, all he did was stare at her, and watch her leave. 

……

I think I'll take my whiskey neat, my coffee black, and my bed at three, you're too sweet for me

“(Y/n)?” Dean’s voice echoed through the evening, forcing her eyes from her book. It had been days since they had returned from their last hunt, forced to share an uncomfortable, quiet drive home. Ever since they had returned, they hadn’t spoken, (y/n) had kept her distance, and Dean had somehow disappeared, no longer crossing paths with her. “Can I come in?”

The hum leaving her urged Dean to step into her room. Their eyes were drawn to one another like magnets, leaving her trembling as she closed her book. Slowly Dean walked towards (y/n), sitting down next to her to pull her against his chest before she could pull away. 

“I have been stupid, so fucking stupid. Ever since I met you, I knew that I needed you, wanted you, but fuck, I knew that it was a dangerous game, and losing you was too high of a price. Seeing you with that guy did something to me, I don’t even know what. I shouldn’t have kissed you, at least not like that.” She shuffled around in Dean’s grasp, cheek no longer pressed to his chest, though eyes now fully directed at his face. “I wanted to give you time, but staying away from you is something I can’t do, something I don’t want to do.” 

“I wish you would have kissed me sooner, or in some other situation. You had no right to act like that when you’re the one talking to other women no matter where we go, Dean.” The hum leaving him drew a sigh from (y/n). Wordlessly she placed her head back down on his chest, letting the seconds blur by as he got lost in his thoughts. 

“Can I have another chance to make things right?” Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing her eyes back towards his again. All she did was nod her head, watching him dip down to softly kiss her. No longer did she feel the same anger, no longer was she annoyed at him for treating her like that, no, she was now solemnly focused on the feeling of his lips moving against hers. 

Dean pulled her into his lap without breaking the kiss, leaving both to hiss as she ground her middle against his. Their hands did impatient work, tugging on one another’s shirts, exposing her bra-clad chest to his wandering eyes. He ripped her bra from her frame, tongue finding her left nipple as his hand worked on the other, high on the sounds wrecking through (y/n). 

“This is even better than I imagined.” She wanted to comment on the fact that he had seemingly imagined a situation like this, she wanted to tell Dean that she had been held hostage by the same thoughts, but she couldn’t. (Y/n) felt his hardening cock press against her core, urged on by her need for friction. “I can’t wait to fuck you, to show you how you’ll always be mine.”

“Forever.” The single word rolling off (y/n)’s tongue left Dean groaning, flipping them around to pull her trousers from her trembling legs, panties following. His darkening eyes wandered up and down her frame while he undressed, exposing his hard cock to her hungry eyes, leaving (y/n) breathless. 

Dean spoke no other warning as he buried his face between her thighs, lapping at her arousal-covered folds, desperate to taste her. Curses rumbled through the both of them while (y/n) was high on the feeling of Dean’s tongue pushing her closer and closer to the edge, the feeling of his thumb circling her pulsing bundle with just enough pressure to leave her gasping. Dean found himself addicted to her taste, to her sounds, to the way she trembled for him only. 

“This is better than heaven, fuck, I’ll do that daily from now on.” He murmured his words against her warm skin, leaving the spots trembling as he let his gaze flicker up to her pleasure-drunken features. One of her hands found his, interlacing their fingers to squeeze his hand, telling him she was all too close. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good I’m making you feel.” (Y/n) came with a call of his name, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. Dean was close to reaching for his phone to film every passing second for him to watch whenever he’d be away from her. But the sight of her orgasm wrecking through her was enough to leave him frozen to the spot. 

“Dean,” (y/n) panted his name, slowly opening her eyes to stare at him. “I need you to fuck me, I can’t wait any longer.” 

Within seconds, he had them repositioned, with (y/n) back in his lap, holding onto his shoulders. He rolled a condom down his twitching cock while (y/n) caught her breath, preparing herself for another intense orgasm. Dean’s hands held her waist as she sunk down on him, foreheads pressed together to adjust, to grasp onto the sensation. 

“Oh god, Dean, you’re so big.” Her walls fluttered around him, trying to get used to his size, to the feeling of him stretching her. Dean’s raspy chuckles guided her on, urging her to move, to rock her hips against his. He supported her every movement, stabilising her as she rode him. Their sounds grew louder, more passionate as they took what they were aching for, clinging to one another like boats rocking ashore. 

He’d forever be her lighthouse, the guiding force she’d search for in times of need, while she was the boat sailing him home, allowing him to be the truest form of himself. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” Dean’s praises shot heat through her, forcing her fingernails into his shoulders to cling to him, trying not to pay the ache in her thighs too much of her attention. But Dean seemed to pick up on it, giving her a slight push away to force her down on the mattress. 

With their eyes holding contact he pushed back into her, groaning at the feeling. Dean fucked her as if the devil was chasing him, begging them to give in before he could get his grasp on the two lovers. Their moans ripped through them, telling them that they were close, oh so close. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock.” Her fingers blindly followed his command, circling her clit to push her over the edge. (Y/n) choked on Dean’s name as she came, letting her fingernails scratch at his skin to leave behind marks that wouldn’t fade for days. Dean gave it a few more thrusts before he gave in, letting go with a groan that made her clench around him once again. 

“I don’t think it’s ever been this intense for me.” (Y/n)’s confession left Dean chuckling, he parted from her to press a kiss to her lips, eyes searching hers for a second. He threw the condom away before he returned to her bed, wrapping (y/n) in his arms with his eyes glued to hers. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, it had never been like that for me as well.” 

 I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three, you're too sweet for me

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Favorite Pet

Tease Me (2)

BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda

Summary: You find yourself alone in bed, but that's okay because you can smell breakfast

Warnings: None! Here you all go have some fluffy morning after loving.

Word Count: 1,570

A/N: I promise pt 3 is going to be full of smut once more, but I wanted to explore their morning after.

You woke up to the smell of bacon stretching out on your king sized bed. Your back is popping after a week of staying on Kate and Yelena’s couch. You fell asleep on the couch, right? Did Wanda move both of you in here?

You got up feeling cold from only wearing a tank top and shorts to bed, grabbing one of your throw blankets and making your way out to the kitchen to find Wanda there, swaying her hips to music as she made breakfast. You smirked and watched her for a moment before speaking up,

“Damn I could get used to this.” you startle her a bit with your voice, but she sees you smiling. You saw the blush on her face as you walked over, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up.

“I tried waking you up earlier, but you refused so I figured I'd start making breakfast for you Mommy.” Her voice was so soft right now. You were an absolute menace to try and wake in the morning.

“You don't have to call me that outside of the club or the bedroom. Please just call me by my name.” you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss her.

“Are you sure? All my previous-” You cut her off before she can finish that sentence.

“Wanda. I'm sure.” you tell her putting emphasis on her name. “Outside those spaces you're Wanda and I'm Y/N. We are two people and not just our roles.” She simply nods and you kiss her again.

“Okay well Y/N I've made breakfast I hope you like bacon, eggs, and pancakes.” Wanda smiled and so did you.

“I love those things. I'll grab the juices and milk.” You untangled yourself from her grabbing out the pitchers for the two of you.

As the two of you sat and ate you talked about a lot of things and got to know each other better. Conversation with her seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had never felt this way before. You were typically a guarded person especially after her though opening up didn’t even feel like you were. Instead it felt more like getting reacquainted with an old friend.

“So you have this place because of working at the club right?” Wanda asked looking around my spacious penthouse.

“Yeah Tasha helped me get it originally since it was close to the club and honestly I came from nothing. My parents were poor when I was a kid, but it was by choice. Neither of my parents wanted to work and didn't care that my brother and I were starving. I took care of my brother and raised him. He lived with me for a bit and still comes by, but he went off and became a businessman. He's climbed the ladder to almost being the CEO of the company he works for.” You’re reminded of just how different you and your brother turned out.

“You must be proud of him.” you smile, pushing around the little food left on your plate.

“I am. Sometimes I wonder if he feels the same about me.” You admit solemnly.

“I'm sure he understands that without you doing this he wouldn't have been able to be where he is. You paid for his college right?”

“Yeah through the fucking teeth…” you definitely didn't want to mention fucking the dean to get him in or lowering his tuition rates.

“Then I'm sure he understands. My brother on the other hand is just as bad as me. He creates, designs, and builds BDSM gear like beds and crosses and shit. He's really good at it and runs his own business with a couple of his buddies.” Wanda told you.

“Hmmm I'd love to meet him. I have a spare room I've always wanted to turn into a playroom.” Wanda blushed a scarlet red. You wanted to keep teasing her, but your phone was going off,

“Ughhhhhhhhh!” you picked it up quickly changing your tone, “Hi Tasha. You’re interrupting my breakfast so please make it quick.”

“Wow rude and here I thought you had a good night.” she responded, but you could tell she was smiling.

“Oh I did so good in fact it has continued into breakfast so again if you could make it quick.” I snip at her really not wanting to do this until later.

“Of course it has. Finally back on the horse I see. Well that’s good, anyways since you’re both there I expect to see you tonight.” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do. Were people asking for us?” you put the call on speaker.

“Of course they were. You two gave the best performance last night. You’re lucky I’m nice and let you keep all those tips. Most places would take some from you especially with how much you made last night.” you chuckled at her words. As tough as Tasha could be on you she was also soft; she knew you too good at this point.

“Well thank you Tasha for taking such good care of us. When will we be preforming tonight?”

“Opener and then a solo from each of you later in the night once aftercare is done let me know and we’ll work you in.” You could hear the sound of her typing in the background probably trying to figure out the schedule of performers for tonight.

“Okay Tasha. We’ll be there for 5.”

“Okay once your solos are done you’re free to go tonight because Friday I want you two to do multiple shows.” You groan a bit doing multiple shows was always hard for you. It takes a lot out of you to go from Dom to not to Dom again.

“Fine...” You replied reluctantly to your best friend. You knew she heard your tone, but chose not to call you out on it.

“Okay I’ll see you two tonight and I’m glad you found someone again Y/N/N.” You rolled your eyes. Trying to take the phone off speaker before Wanda could hear it.

“Yup kay bye.” You hung up, throwing your phone over onto the couch.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Wanda asked concerned.

“Nothing amor. I just get frustrated sometimes. It’s not that I don’t like this job because I do. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known it’s just difficult for me sometimes. I have to get into the right headspace. Also I’m not going to lie doing more than one show in a night can be exhausting and I want to make sure you have a good time. I’ve just never been good with multi show nights.” Wanda reached across the table, holding your hand,

“Everything is going to work out fine because this time you’ll have me.” She was smiling, biting her lip as her nose scrunched up.

“You are absolutely beautiful amor. I am so lucky...” You let your words trail off. All Wanda is, is my stage partner, nothing more, and you feel yourself curl into yourself ever so slightly as you retract your hand.

You see her searching your face as to why you pulled away, “Sorry did I do or say something wrong?” Wanda asked and you felt a pit in your stomach.

“No, no meu amor. I just get stuck in my own head. I’m sorry. I have a lot going on with myself and sometimes I’m my own worst enemy. If I ever start pulling away just pull me back harder please?” Wanda is speechless for a moment. “I-if you want to that is you don’t-“ Wanda pushes aside her plate and then your own, climbing on the dining room table and making her way into your lap.

“I’ll pull you so deep you’ll be drowning in me and forget all your problems.” Wanda husked against your lips, making you lean up, chasing her lips for a kiss as she keeps pulling back until you’re whining,

“Wands...” You were pouting and looking up at her, “Please?” She smirked and finally let you kiss her, melting against her as you sighed into it. You needed this, you needed her. You need her? How are you so deep already? How did she do this to you?

“Y/N/N?”

“Hmmm?” You let your eyes flit open and look up at her.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, never had a partner like you. Before last night I thought everything I’d experienced with a Dom was normal...I don’t think...no I know I don’t ever want to go back to that. I know it’s a little forward of me, but would you please continue to be my dom as well as a partner I can rely on?” You reached up and cupped her cheeks.

“If we’re being forward then I’d like to answer your question with a question. I would like to be those things and more so would you be my girlfriend?” You ask, feeling so nervous until she crashes her lips into yours, her hips rolling against you, moaning out at the feeling as you grab her hips.

“Yes. Yes I’d love that.” She husks out against your lips and this is a moment you want to remember forever, every part of it. The sound of her voice, the faint smell of breakfast, her vanilla perfume, the way her lips taste and feel against you, the pressure of her hips and your nails digging into them.