#fuuuuck how do i see that just now???!
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All the things I'm never going to experience properly again... all the things I'll never do because It'll feel wrong.... all the things I'm never going to have the right way because people will never see me the way i want them to..... this shit sucks man
#is it even worth it.#like all these things i read about and hear about that i want so badly but it'll never be the same for me because something's wrong with me#i can't be a girl because of myself and i can't be enough of a boy because of everybody else. floats facedown in a river and fucking drowns#tw vent#what is the point. all i want is to be reckless and kiss people who call me boy and run around without worrying and climb things#and be comfortable being touched by more than my three designated people and go out at night alone and fuuuuck why are there so many things#to list like jfc it shouldn't be this hard to exist in my own fucking body#do you know how many times as a younger kid i would say shape-shifting would be my ideal superpower?#because i would be able to turn into animals and give myself wings and change my hair to fun colors#and its still my first choice now. because i could be a tall flat chested boy with good teeth and big hands. and people would see me right#for once in my fucking life#hhhg. whatever. i can always just die.#tw dysphoria#[insert cool original post tag]
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wild that i can be bleeding internally for six weeks and it's just ... fine?? i just keep working like everything is normal?? that's cool. just like, let me know at what point to be really concerned .. i guess?!
#when you thought the kidney infection went away but somehow you're still bleeding from your kidneys?? or your bladder or ... somewhere?!#what the fUuuUck dude#now i have to go see a urologist and who knows how fcking long i'll have to wait for that#and i am not convinced that my abdominal pain is from the lingering small bleed in my urinary tract#so what the FUCK else is wrong with me???#and why are my doctors still saying shit like 'if it persists into next week follow up with me'#ITS PERSISTED THE LAST SIX WEEKS IF YOU ARE GOING TO DO SOMETHING NOW IS THE TIME NOT NEXT WEEK#god fuck i just#am trying to cope and deal and process this and it's very very hard when i am like begging for help and everyone is just acting#like i saw a fly and screamed my head off#and then finally when someone says oh shit i see the bear too i'm like holy shit you do?!#and then they can't confirm the bear bc all their tests failed so they just go 'ehh we'll try again if the bear's still there next week'#THE BEAR COULD ATTACK AT ANY SECOND AND I AM SUPPOSED TO JUST SIT HERE AND WAIT?!#i just can't dude i just fcking can't#disabled lyfe#hikey
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— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU
-----------HEADCANONS-----------
HAWKS
“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.”
“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”
“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?”
“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”
“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”
“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”
“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”
“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”
“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”
“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."
“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”
“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”
“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”
“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”
“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”
“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-”
“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”
"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”
“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”
“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”
“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”
“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”
“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”
“Need a hand or a finger?”
“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”
“Keep your eyes on me.”
“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”
“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”
“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper.
“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans.
“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?”
“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”
“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”
“Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?”
“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”
“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.”
“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”
“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”
“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
DABI
“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”
“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”
“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”
“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”
“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”
“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”
“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”
“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”
“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”
“I said ass up.”
“You want it so bad? beg.”
“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”
“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.
“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”
“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”
“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”
“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”
“Move my hands again and see what happens-”
“Fuck—”
“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”
“Sit on it.”
“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”
“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience.
“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”
“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.
“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.”
“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”
“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.”
“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”
“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.”
“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”
“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”
“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”
“Over my knee, now.”
“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”
“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”
“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)
“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”
“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”
“I’ve waited so long for this...”
“That’s it... slow and easy—”
“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”
“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”
“Take it off before I tear it off.”
“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”
“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”
“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”
“Ugh, so hot and wet.”
“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”
“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”
“It’s so warm...”
“Who do you belong to?”
“Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”
“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”
“As you wish, princess.”
“You gonna cum?”
“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”
“Fucking take it... take every drop...”
“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”
“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”
“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”
“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”
“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”
“Oh, did you think we were finished?”
“Did I stutter or somethin’?”
“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”
“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”
“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”
“Shit, darling, don’t-”
“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”
“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"
“More... please, more...”
“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”
“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
SHIGARAKI
“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”
“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”
“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”
“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”
“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”
“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”
“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”
“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”
“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”
“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”
“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”
“Please fuck me.”
“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’”
“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”
“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”
“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”
"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?"
“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”
"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”
"S-Shit,"
"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful."
"What? Fainting on me already?"
"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."
“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”
“Have it your way then.”
"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"
“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”
“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”
"Are you close, sweetie?"
“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”
"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made."
“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”
“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”
“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.”
“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”
“Go on, get on your knees.”
“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”
“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.”
“I want you all to myself.”
“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”
I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)
#mha fanfiction#mha headcanons#my hero academia#hawks x reader#bakugo x reader#hawks x you#bakugo x you#dabi x reader#dabi x you#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#bakugo smut#hawks smut#hawks imagines#bakugo fluff#dabi smut#shigaraki smut#shigaraki tomura#dabi todoroki#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami#bakugo katsuki#kacchan#reader insert#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#mha x reader#bnha#yandere x reader
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Part 2 of Onlyfans!Toji, here’s part one
Now it’s either a one shot or a long ass drabble you decide, I had too much inspiration for that one
Warnings: degradation and praise kink, mutual masturbation, masturbation, breeding kink, rough sex, mention of oral; reader receiving and giving
Onlyfans!Toji finally dm you, with a simple message that comes straight to the point. “Hey ma, just discovered you and ngl, I need a collab with you asap.” Toji being the cocky bastard that he is, knows that you’ll reply and accept the offer. You see his message, and at first, you think it might be a catfish or someone using an ai generated pic for the pfp, cause you’ve never seen anyone so hot in your life. You check his profile and ho-ly fuck. 2 million followers on Twitter, a handsome face, a buff body, and the biggest dick you’ve seen in your life? Goddamn now your pussy’s wet, how can someone be- hold on.
While you’re scrolling you see a video of Onlyfans!Toji fucking some other content creator and unconsciously, you start playing with your breast. The way he’s pushing her head down the pillow while his hips are slamming against hers, the way she’s moaning, the way he’s biting his lip and groaning while railing her? Fuck, you need that. You want that, badly. Usually, you don’t crave a content creator that much. Sure, you need to at least like his work to do a collab, but this is the first time you genuinely want another dude on OF to rearrange your insides. So you don’t waste any more time, you reply and accept the offer.
Onlyfans!Toji almost jumps on his phone when he sees the notification, and a big smile spreads on his face. He jumps on his bed and the two of you start texting. There are questions and answers regarding the collab, like the money matters, what the two of you like and dislike, boundaries, ideas for the video, your schedule, and most importantly, updated test results.
Onlyfans!Toji doesn’t know why he’s so excited and why he’s behaving like a 15 yo texting his crush. But he can’t wait to see you. You end up texting for hours, and eventually, you exchange numbers to FaceTime each other which quickly ends up in Toji stroking and hitting his dick on the phone, while you’re rubbing your wet brown pussy for him. You both don’t know what’s going on, and why you’re acting like this, but you can’t wait to finally meet each other
Eventually, it’s getting late and you tell him you’re going to sleep. Since Onlyfans!Toji is not tired yet, his mind is too focused on you, so he decides to make this paid request a fan asked for earlier that day. A $500 video of him jerking off while saying the fan’s name. He’s not the one who sets the price, the fan has money to waste, and who Onlyfans!Toji is to refuse such a good offer after all? The fan already paid, it was time for him to do his part now
Onlyfans!Toji removes his clothes, lays on his bed, grabs his phone, and starts recording. At first, it’s a lil intro to edge the fan, tell her whatever she wanna hear before the camera is now on his cock. He makes it twitch a bit and says how hard it is because of her which is a lie, he imagines the fan is you. He starts stroking himself, and says the name of the fan all while thinking about you, thinking about that FaceTime and the way your fat pussy lip wrapped around your two fingers as you rubbed your clit, the way you moaned his name in despair while begging him to fuck you. He groans and starts going faster “Fuuuuuuck mama… I wanna fuck you so bad shiiit…” As he keeps going, he starts dirty talking, imagining saying all those things to you, imagining doing all those things to you, and it takes everything in him to not say your name. His imagination is running wild now, he grabs his cock a bit too tight and hits the camera a bit too hard, a feral groan leaving his lips “Fuck… suck that fuuuucking dick you fucking bitch… Do you like that? Uh?” God knows what the fuck Onlyfans!Toji is imagining right now but one thing is for sure, he’s gonna do that to you.
After a few minutes Onlyfans!Toji cums all over his abs, groaning like an animal as he pictures your dick sucking lips around his tip, swallowing his semen. He’s panting, he can’t believe he felt so much pleasure from just using his hand “Damn [fan name], see what you made me do? Fuck, I’m dirty now because of you, but it was worth it. Thank you for making me feel good.” This is clearly not for the fan but whatever. He stops recording, sends the video to the girl on Onlyfans then gets cleaned up. You’re gonna be the death of him.
A week later it’s finally time to record this video. For once, Onlyfans!Toji wants his colleague to come to his place. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t. Usually, he meets the other content creators at some hotel or their place but never at his own. It’s not like he lives in the slums, that Onlyfans money made him rich and he lives in a beautiful penthouse. He just knows how some of these content creators become clingy and/or possessive after getting fucked by him. He doesn’t need stalkers on top of that. But you? He has that weird desire to see you boneless on his bed, HIS. And maybe he’ll be able to keep you around for a few more rounds off camera, or on, who knows.
You finally arrive and Onlyfans!Toji finds you even more breathtaking in real life, and by the look on your face, you probably think the same thing about him. Before he loses it and jumps on you to take you right there and then, he chats a bit with you, he still wanna act like a civilized man and not like a caveman. He asks you if you need anything to eat or drink, if you’re okay if you’re ready, and if you have any safe words. Once it’s settled he brings you to his room, where a whole set next to the bed is ready for you. The tension is high in the room. You didn’t plan a scenario, you both decided to go with the flow. You don’t know why you’re so nervous when you’re used to it, after all, it’s your job, but the dark and hungry look in Onlyfans!Toji’s eyes make your heart race.
You are out of breath, you are overstimulated, and your slicked-back bun is a whole mess. You didn’t know recording a video with Onlyfans!Toji would leave you in that state. Well, you expected it, but still, you can’t believe it. This man is a monster in bed. He praised and degraded you, made you ride his face until you came at least twice. He made you suck his massive dick until you were a crying, drooling mess with a sore throat. He had you in full Nelson, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, backshots, the princess position, and now you can’t count how many times this man made you squirt. And he wasn’t done, cause he didn’t cum yet. This man has the stamina of a goddamn bull on steroids. Right now you’re in missionary again, your wrists pinned, your legs wrapped around his waist, moaning in a way you never thought you would as his cock keeps pocking your cervix.
With the way Onlyfans!Toji is panting and groaning, you can tell he’s getting close to cum “M-ma, fuck I’m close mama… goddamn fuck- your pussy feels so good… such a good girl for me…” he groans in your ear, which makes your clench tighter around him. You bite your lip, and you’re so fucked out that you tell him to cum inside you. “You sure ma? Want me to fill you up and get you pregnant? That’s what you want?” You’re on the pill so it’s safe but you’d lie if you didn’t find the idea fucking hot. You nod desperately “Yes please… cum in my pussy… knock me up baby..” you whimper, your voice almost gone from the way you moaned and screamed earlier. That’s when Onlyfans!Toji snaps. He growls, releases your wrists to wrap his buff arms around your body, and violates your insides as you scream for dear life. You scratch his back so deeply you might draw blood. “Goddamn fucking slut y/n take my cum…!” When he says your name you cry out as you have another orgasm, he follows you quickly after, growling so loudly it gives you goosebumps. You can feel the warm gooey texture filling your womb, the feeling is amazing. You both stay like this for a moment until he pulls out, his cum leaking from your abused hole. He’s tempted to fuck it back into you but you’re already boneless, so he grabs his phone and stops recording.
Onlyfans!Toji looks at you affectionately and caresses your cheek while admiring your state. “You were amazing y/n, such a good girl for me.” You can barely hear him, but his caress gives you some reassurance. Eventually, you doze off and he starts editing the video. After a while, he posts a sneak peek on his Twitter account. A 20-second video of him taking you in different positions while you’re screaming in pleasure. He writes a lil caption: “@Y/N might have been my best collab so far, ‘ma knows how to take a good dick😩😈 full video on OF real soon🍆💦” and then posts it. It doesn’t take long before he gets shitloads of reactions under the tweet, both from his fans and yours.
@mahito’sstankass: holy fuckkkk I wish I was y/n 😩😩
@y/n’sdirtydraws: fucking hot I’m already touching myself rn
@tojiA1dickrider: oh my god she takes it like a champ! Wish Toji fucked me like her🤤🤤
@dcktoobigforyou: goddamn that mf gets all the baddies im jealous right now
@gojo_right_ball: I need my bf to fuck me like toji or I might break up with him idc
@coochiehair: I need the full vid asap the chemistry is insaneeeeee🔥🔥
@y/n’sasscrack: ikr??? They were downright making love! I hope they make more videos
@tojifckmepls: omg I can tell they were both into it I need more!!! My pussy can’t take it!!!🤭🤣
Onlyfans!Toji chuckles and then looks at you, the comments were right, he felt it and he bets you felt it too. This won’t be your last video together, he’s sure of it.
You can tell I was fucking horny while writing some of these lmao hope you liked part 2🫶🏾
taglist: @midnightry @tojicvmslut @getoisinnocent @samoankpoper21 @remithenonbinaryrat
#jjk men#jjk smut#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#toji smut#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu toji#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk x black!fem reader#jjk x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk x you#toji x black y/n#toji x black reader#toji zenin#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x reader
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modern!vi who’s down horrendous for you. she gets home from the gym, sweat-damp and sore, ready for a much-needed shower after hitting a new pr and kicking her own ass during her workout. she’s undressing in the foggy bathroom when her phone pings from the counter, your name lighting up the screen. she tosses her shirt to the side and unlocks the phone to see your message.
missing you sooo bad right now, you’ve texted her. attached is a photo of you, shirtless, with your perfectly manicured nails delicately cupping your tits. might have to touch myself… help me out?
vi scoffs at your message, but she clicks on that photo again, zooms in and analyzes it until she’s sure she’s memorized every individual pixel.
fuck, you’re perfect. fuck fuck fuck.
steam from the shower has fogged up the mirror entirely, and it’s deathly humid in the bathroom. but vi’s got a soft spot for you - she’d do anything you asked her to, even if your version of asking is merely suggesting… no, bribing. that photo was definitely a bribe.
vi messes around with a few potential angles, propping her phone up on the counter, then on the floor, even on the back of the toilet. nothing looks right, and she’s so sweaty and frustrated that she almost decides not to send you anything at all. she rips open the shower curtain, huffing an annoyed sigh before her eyes land on the shower head.
huh, that’s an idea.
fifteen minutes later, as you’re lazily dragging your fingers through your cunt, horny and annoyed that vi hasn’t texted you back, you get a notification. it’s a video, you realize with a giddy whir of excitement, and you click play without a second thought. one hand cradling your phone, the other between your thighs, you watch as vi settles the camera down on a shelf by the window. her scarlet locks are damp with sweat, droplets of water from the shower rolling down her inked skin. fuck, you’ll never get used to that body - she’s all lean muscles and sharp edges, so dangerous until she’s holding you with those calloused hands and curling her frame up against yours.
and now? she’s biting her lip, trying to make a show of trailing a hand down her abdomen - she stops short, though, reaching off to the side instead. her hand returns with the running shower head, and you draw in a sharp, excited breath. as if she could hear you, vi lets out a little chuckle and says, “i know, unexpected. i haven’t done this in years.”
she fiddles with the shower head, flicking a switch at the neck until the water flow changes to a more… optimal setting. the stream’s a lot more focused now, more intense.
“worked myself up a bit before this. hope that’s okay, princess.” vi flashes a smirk at the camera, but with her cheeks painted that pretty pink shade, you know she’s a little embarrassed. uncertain.
you’re grateful that the camera angle lets you see every detail of what vi’s doing - how her body moves. she hitches a leg up against the shower wall, just high enough to spread herself open. the soft curls between her legs are untamed and wet, and your cunt twitches at the sight of vi’s pink, pink cunt, spread beautifully - you only get one glance, though, before the silver shower head blocks your view. vi hisses through her teeth and her hips twitch. you sigh, your fingers playing in the wetness between your legs as you watch vi toss her head back in pleasure. every moan that passes her lips goes straight to your clit - you’re needy, gushing wetter every time you see vi’s tits bounce or her jaw clench.
“fuuuuck,” she cries out, her face a vision of pleasure. mouth hung open, brows knitted together, eyes foggy with lust. “gonna come, shit, baby…”
water drips from vi’s hair down to her shoulders, rolling in beads down her tense chest. she’s heaving, panting, gasping your name as her orgasm slams into her, tatted biceps flexing as she forces the shower head to stay in place. her orgasm seems to last forever, streams of water gushing from her pussy down to the shower floor - and then she’s done, spent.
it’s almost like vi forgets about the camera for a moment. she hums in pleasure, still panting a bit as she comes back down from her high. she licks her lips, then her eyes meet the camera - and oh, she looks wrecked.
“hope that’s enough material for you, pretty girl,” she says to the camera, winking playfully before the video cuts out.
#i’m consumed by thoughts of modern!vi at the gym likeee she would be my gym crush#and oh to see her jerk it with a shower head…#vi arcane#vi arcane fanfic#vi x reader#vi x reader fic#vi fanfiction#vi fanfic#vi x y/n#vi x you#vi arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#modern!au#modern!vi#my writing
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INTOXICATION .ᐟ — RE Men x YOU.
SUMMARY: just horny resident evil blurbs where they're all pussydrunk. <3
PAIRINGS: LEON S. KENNEDY/Reader, LUIS SERRA/Reader, CHRIS REDFIELD/Reader, ALBERT WESKER/Reader, JACK KRAUSER/Reader, CARLOS OLIVEIRA/Reader
WARNINGS: female reader, nsfw themes, PROBABLY inaccurate anatomy, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it folks. ), begging, breeding && Daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry makeup sex, size kink/difference, cervix fucking,
author's note: this is my first post. :) sorry if it's not that flourished . . .
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ NSFW UNDER THE CUT. ┈┈┈┈
LEON S KENNEDY .ᐟ
leon has seen — and will see more — monsters and cruelty beyond human recognition. both you and him think it's a pretty valid reason to not have children yet.
he knows contraceptives and birth control isn't a hundred percent effective, so he always played it safe: cumming on your face, giving you a good throatpie, covering your back and/or tummy with his warm cum . . .
so one could imagine the look of surprise on his face when you wrapped your pretty legs around him.
⟡
"baby, fuck! what're you- what're you doing?"
leon snaps from his fucked out haze, eyes suddenly wide and open as he watched you in your familiar fervour. "leon, please, please, Daddy. breed me. want your cum," you begged for it like you needed it; the shiny gloss of your tears only made you look so much prettier, he thinks . . . how could he resist such an angel like you?
"baby, we- we . . " he physically cannot muster that he can't. because can, and he will. the rough snapping of his hips never faltered, mind and body fueled with the need to breed you, to stuff you full until you leaked. "don't pull out—♡.ᐟ "
your begging alone was irresistible, and with the additional hypnotizing vice you had around his girth — the word no didn't even exist in his head. "yeah? y , y'want it that bad?" nod, nod.
you whined when he pulls out, partly from disappointment and feeling empty without him. you thought you'd be triumphant. just as you were about to call for him, however, your knees are pressed against your chest, and the familiar grip on your hips were now on the back of your knees.
it's not the stretch that makes your eyes wide, but the feeling of his tip pressed directly against your cervix. a premature orgasm rips through you and turning your brain into mush. completely, this time; leon was there to witness this, brows furrowed together and resisting the urge to let his eyes roll back so he can see your beautiful face.
his pounding resumes, skin sinfully slapping against skin, cock grazing your most sensitive spots with each needy rut. "i'll fucking breed you, angel. how do you like that?" your legs are high, higher up, now that he's leaning forward to have a closer look on your pretty face.
"Y/N," he chants like a prayer. he needs you like he hasn't needed before, forever and always. "leoooooon, love you — i love you," you sobbed, nails marking crescents on his shoulders, biceps. you feel so fucking full, you can't even think. just him and how good it'd feel to have his semen leaking out of your folds.
"fuuuuck, baby. you're drivin' me crazy. i love you too,"
his hips are aching, but that doesn't stop him from ramming himself completely deep into you. it won't stop him, because all he can think of is to fuck you stupid, fuck you full.
there's nothing coherent that follows, just pure, absolute filth. you're drooling, and leon's tongue is cleaning up your mess, like he's not drooling with you. his orgasm's nearing, thrusts getting noticeably sloppy and unrhythmic, but still forceful; compensating for the lack of speed.
"'m gonna cum, darling. ah—! beg for it. beg for it like a good girl,"
your pleading resonates in the room. if you could emphasize it with a wrap of your legs, you would have done so already. but your legs feel numb. y'can't move, not with his body weight forcing them up.
"pleeeeease, pleasepleasepleaseplease. need it! need'a be bred, please,"
leon would have come up with a witty remark, but all that comes from him is a groan whilst he buried himself balls deep into you. he's not pent up or anything, not even close, but he knows he's cumming lots. because despite being fully sheathed inside you, it's leaking everywhere. he rides out his high with slow, shallow thrusts, cum spilling with every push of his cock.
he's regaining awareness, taking in deep breaths. his eyes glaze over your figure, pretty much in the same state of post-sex euphoria as you. "Y/N," he mutters, letting your legs down slowly. the wince on your face tells him you're awake, and he cups your face.
"Y/N, baby,"
a thumb caresses your cheek. "—talk to me," leon sighs in relief when you grinned at him. "hi, baby," you croaked groggily. leon began to massage your thighs, kissing your neck. "i'm sorry i got carried away," and the night is spent with you cradled by his strong arms and comforted with his usual sweetness.
now, he's left with an addiction for giving you endless creampies.
LUIS SERRA .ᐟ
GIF by entreri
your pleasure comes first before everything.
before he's buried deep and you're stretched out from his cock, your cunt's all soaked and prepped from the amount of foreplay he gives you. it's more than just wanting to prepare you. to luis, it's a requirement. having the taste of your pussy and cum on his lips was mandatory. he can't neglect his prinsesa like this.
why would he deprive you of his tongue? his fingers? he likes taking his sweet, sweet time in watching you crumble into nothing for him, only for him.
⟡
"luis!"
how many times have you creamed and gushed all over your lover's face? you can't recall. you don't even know how long he's been lapping at your cunt, but luis continues to coax out orgasm after orgasm from you.
he basks in your reactions each and every time, peering up at you just to watch you writhe from his tongue, how your body arches when you've reached your sinful crescendo, how your eyes roll back to the pits of your skull while you scream his name . . .
every man has his needs, and it's hard to create balance when the need to taste your pussy and your cum is equally as strong as the need to give his cock some sweet relief; after it's been painfully hard for an hour now. it twitches every now and then, aching for you. your touch. your lips, hands . . . "dios mio, chica," he pulls away to spit on your pretty, glistening cunt. "por favor, bebé. te necesito." he's desperate to relieve this ache, to feel that sweet release, but he just can't stop. too addicted. too drunk.
he compromises, your bliss coming first before his. his tongue laps up at your clit — the sensitive bud all puffy and twitchy from how much he's made you gush for the past hour. you feel so breathless. so lightheaded. still, it didn't stop you from begging your handsome lover. "luiiiis, pleeeease, want your cock."
his response? delving his tongue into your folds; tongue tracing your creamy slit and cleaning up the mess you've made. "shhhhh, prinsesa." luis says with a mouthful of cunt, nose brushing against your clit everytime he tried to clean up every drop of your slick. your wails only grow louder, weakness taking over as your legs close in on him. luis feels his breath hitch in his throat.
not just from the prolonged use of his skilled mouth. but because your thighs crushed him. effectively.
can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe . . .
his hands have a mind of its own at this point, because a mere minute had passed, and he had already undone his pants to pull his cock out. his moan reverberates against your cunt, and it only makes you cry out, pulling on greying tresses. you can't think straight anymore. all you can think of is luis . . . .
he's determined to make you cum again, lips latching on to your clit. he's determined to make you fall apart for him again. his stubble rubs against your soft skin, a harsh contrast from his gentleness, but the burn only makes it all the more enjoyable. "cum, bebé," he says, hollowing his cheeks. your legs only tighten involuntarily, too responsive to his stimulation. luis kept his eyes on you, grunting against your pussy as he fucked his fist. he can't help it anymore, mami.
"oh, bebé,"
if only you could see how he desperately fucked his fist. he was such a good lover for you. it can't compare to your cunt, never — but beggars can't be choosers. you were so lost in your own euphoria, you swore you're seeing stars.He just growls against your folds, eager to make you cream on his face again.
"pleease, mami. cum for me. squirt on my face,"
"oh, luis! fuck! 'm cumming! cummingcummingcummingggg! hnhggh—♡!"
neither of you made sense to each other, engulfed with overwhelming bliss that washes over you — and, well, luis's face. it didn't matter, however, as you two knew your bodies and loved each other beyond words. you didn't need to tell him how good he made you feel, when your shaking legs already spoke on your behalf.
as soon as luis feels your juices soak his chin, cheeks, hell, everywhere—he can't help but spill his cum into his hand, high-pitched cries buzzing against your pulsating cunt. he rides out your climax with gentle kisses on your spasming clit, each kiss helping you ride out your high. he found it cute how your body spasmed with every brush of his lips and stubble.
he rises to meet you, lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your body. "bonita," he whispered against your stomach, gently nibbling on the soft flesh. everything is blurry for you, with luis being the only clear picture in your eyes. you bite your lip. he goes higher, 'till ivory meets your hardened bud; fingertips toying with the other. "luiiiis, gimme - gimme kiss," you whined, holding his face. "'m here, prinsesa. i'm here," finally, fucking finally, you and luis are face to face.
"i love youu. love you, baby. i love you so so much,"
"i love you too, mi amor."
you can't help but grin when you feel his cock—still hard and leaking pre—rest against your cunt.
CHRIS REDFIELD .ᐟ
despite how he hulked over pretty much you and . . well, everyone, chris was a gentle giant. or tried his best to be one. it didn't help that he was naturally strong and bigger than you. his whole figure pretty much eclipsed over your frame, with his hand engulfing the entirety of your own, shoulders enough to keep you out of sight from wandering eyes . . . if he didn't keep in mind to handle you gently, he could practically crush you.
mind?
what mind?
"c , chris!"
you pathetically drooled all over his bicep as he pounded you from behind. his whole body weight was on top of you in a caging pronebone, with a headlock to completely lock you in place. "Y , Y/N, my baby girl," he whispered, nipping the shell of your ear. "your cunt feels good. i love you. i love you . . love fucking you," he mutters dumbly as he kept shoving his cock deep into you. you knew he was still—at the very least—still keeping in mind to not crush you, because the bicep arm around your neck barely took your breath away.
his thrusts did.
every push in knocked out the breath out of your lungs, cunt nicely wrapping around his girth. no matter how much prep he gives, you always ended up squirming because the stretch was like no other. it reached places no toy or finger ever could—the tip threatening to bully its way past your cervix.
his head is placed between the nook of your shoulder, breathing heavily against your neck as his stubble grazed over your skin. your skin is littered with bites, especially the shoulder that was within his teeth and tongue''s reach; the outline of his teeth covered in a thin layer of his spit.
you weakly held on to his forearms, feeling yourself creaming around it. but you just can't help it—the drag of his cock against your walls was so fucking heavenly, you could have sworn you saw white for a brief moment.
"p , pretty cunt's all messy, baby,"
chris stammers, shamelessly moaning into your ear and immediately latching on to your earlobe, can't keep his mouth unoccupied for more than a minute. especially if it's you. he can't stop kissing you. can't stop tasting you.
can't stop fucking you.
you were helplessly pinned beneath his body—and you didn't possess half the strength to push him off. it made your cunt twitch thinking about being trapped under him, forced to take the pleasure, forced to take the stretch of your cunt . . .
"f , fuck! don't—don't do that. 'm gonna cum, b , baby,"
"h , huh?"
before you could question him any further, his hips began to pick up the pace, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin intensified. "pleeaaaasepleaseplease, Y/N," he's acting like you were stopping him from whatever he wanted to do. "please. just let me cum in you. let me breed you. fuck, fuuuck. 'm gonna make you a mama,"
there's no thought behind every word he's spewing, and his body's moving purely on feral instict. "you'd. hnnngh. oh my god—make s , such a good housewife." chris is whimpering, fucking yearning to breed you as he envisions you as his wife. mrs. redfield. you can't speak a word in his filthy rambling, but it wasn't like you had the coherence to butt in. your eyes are rolled to the back of your head and your mouth would be wide open if his arm and bicep didn't mush your cheeks together.
"oh . . oh fuck. fuck. i l , loveee you. love you . . "
he's lost count from how many times he's confessed how much he wants to marry you, how much he loves you, and who actually keeps count, anyway. all it mattered was your pleasure and his as he pounded you into the mattress. "love you too, chris! hnnnng—♡.ᐟ"
there's something with the way you said it, or maybe he's just that in love with you. he can't help it, his arm tightening around your neck as he buried himself deep with a loud whimper of your name. you gasped for air, feeling even more full.
but you didn't get to cum. he doesn't feel the familiar flutter of your walls, or the feeling of you soaking his cock for the nth time. who was he, if he couldn't fuffill your needs?
even in the midst of his overstimulation, he's trying his best to keep thrusting into you. "b , baby. please, need you to cum for me," he breathed out between gasps. "gotta be a good husband. gotta make you cum," like you hadn't been squirting for him since before he had you pinned under him.
"y, you don't have t—!"
your words are knocked out from you as he began to ram into you harder. 'till your ass was red. 'till he's finally breaking the protective barrier of your cervix. 'till you're
"cumming—♡.ᐟ "
your eyes are wide open, mouth agape and dripping with spit. your cunt's helplessly gushing for him, clenching down on him ridiculously tight. "that's it. that's it, baby. such a good baby. you're so fucking m , messy, jesus chriiist,"
your mind's gone, and so is your remaining strength, body completely enervated as your head rests on his arm. nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, Chris began to place kisses on his jaw. The sensation of his rough stubble confirms you're awake, albeit feeling very lightheaded and almost dizzy.
you don't know how long you two laid there. It was probably just minutes, but felt like hours, up until chris had pulled away from you. you feel his cum ooze out of your cunt, and you whine.
"shh. shh. 'm here, baby. i'm here,"
chris helps flip you over to your back, and you groggily wrapped your arms around him. "are you alright?" chris caresses your cheek, before bestowing a kiss on your forehead. "i'm here. i'm here. do you want water?"
you shook your head, only pulling him to you. he settles you under his arm, securing you with another muscular arm wrapped atop your body. "did you mean it?" you murmured weakly against his chest. chris only rubbed your back. "i wanted to be a husband?" you can feel the rumble of chris's chuckle. you nod. "of course, baby." chris tilts your chin up, tucking your locks behind your ear.
"i love you so much. i'd love to spend the rest of eternity with you,"
you hid your face, embarrassed. "chriiiis," your boyfriend laughs at your cute reaction. "you're so cheesy," "whaaat, it's true!" you puff your cheeks out. "i'd love to spend the rest of my life with you too . . . "
good. because the ring was just resting nicely in the back of your nightstand's drawer.
ALBERT WESKER .ᐟ
wesker is strict. firm. what he says goes, beyond shadow of doubt. so when he tells you to not run your shoe up his leg, don't do it. There's a disappointed click of his tongue when your disobedience persists, your stilettos rubbing against his shin. "this is a professional dinner, Y/N." you can't see it, but you can feel his eyes piercing daggers into you. "hm?" you blink up at him so deceivingly sweet and innocent. "i know. the food tastes great, no?" you can't help but grin when you see him clench his jaw.
wesker is strict. firm.
but that's because there's nothing he enjoys more than breaking his brat into a drooling, mindless mess.
smack!
"f , four!"
you're settled on wesker's lap, legs parted as per his request ( demand, actually. ).
you held on to your lover's arm for dear life, glancing over at your reddening cunt that Wesker's been leaving harsh spanks on. "are you gonna be good, pet?" you nodded vigorously, trying to hide the fact that your eyes were tearing up from his mean treatment.
"really? I don't believe you."
SMACK!
"i , i promise I won't do it again, sir!" you cried out. shutting your eyes, you braced yourself for the next slap that was to come. But you feel him slide two fingers into you instead. "you're fucking wet." Wesker spat, curling his fingers up. it squelches lewdly, your cream smearing all over his palm. "see?" It's obvious where Wesker was looking, because his other hand ensnares your jaw once he realizes your eyes had rolled back to your skull.
"see?"
you swallowed nervously, nodding. "look at your messy fucking cunt." without any further warnings, he began to ram his fingers knuckle-deep into you. not slow or merciful, no, none of that. hard and forceful, as if to burn a lesson into that mischievous head of yours.
"are you gonna keep acting like a brat?" Wesker growled, squishing your cheeks together with his hand. "no, sir! 'm s , sorry!" Wesker laughed at your pathetic apology, purposefully grazing his palm against your puffy clit. "I could almost feel bad for you." he cooed mockingly. "but this is your fault. the consequences of your actions."
he continued to thrust his fingers—quite inhumanely, one might add—the room filled with the filthy harmony of your whimpers and the squelching of your pretty pussy. you're trying your very best to keep your eyes open, but the best you could do was look down at your soaking folds with a lidded gaze. it didn't help that you could feel your climax quickly building up. "what do you say, slut?" he forces you to stay conscious, tapping your cheek with his four fingers. his thumb instinctively traced your spit-soaked lips. you're no better, parting them as soon as you feel the phalange.
"i'm shooorry! w , won't do it again! i'll — ohmygod — be good!"
your body shakes, a garbled squeal escaping your pretty lips as his fingertips curl up to your most sensitive spots. his gaze is to you, his pretty girl, how gorgeous you looked falling apart on him. Of course, he doesn't miss how you roll your eyes back uncontrollably. Wesker lets this slide, because he adores how fucked out you look.
"look at me. Are you gonna cum, pet?" Wesker tantalizingly grazed the pad of his thumb against your clit. you look so pretty looking up at him with wide eyes as he urges you closer to your climax. "y , yes sir!" you whimpered. "yeah? gonna make a mess on my fingers, pretty?" you nodded, and oh my days, the way you held on to his forearm and nuzzled your face into him was so fucking adorable, wesker can't help but feel the warmth spread on his cheeks.
too bad he's still gotta discipline you.
just as you were about to reach that delicious release, you squealed as he harshly pulled his fingers out. It leaves your cunt empty and aching. "bad girls don't get to cum on sir's fingers."
instead, he smacks your cunt again. you clench around nothing, eyes watering as desperation ran through your veins. "pleasepleaseplease," the spanks you once dread, you were now looking for; the infliction on your clit enough to prolong your incoming orgasm.
"wanna cum. please sir, wanna cum. pleasepleaseplease," you tugged on his arm, and wesker lets out a shaky exhale, not realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. raising his hand, he strikes your cunt again, and you yelped. "you . . you like this, pet?" he won't lie, you're making his facade break."yes! please, please, i just wanna cum," you sobbed, salty tears completing your fucked out look. wesker spanks your cunt again, and again, and agai—
you screamed, with a sinful bliss trickling down your back as you arch. you're gushing everywhere, all from his mere spanking. his head dips to claim your lips, tongue first; and it doesn't surprise you when you feel him slowly stuff your mouth as his tongue elongates.
you suck on it, no matter how messy it made you: chin dribbling with sloppy drool, lipstick smearing everywhere . . . your cheeks hollow, and you groaned when his fingers began to rub figure eights on your clit again. "mffh—!" still overstimulated and aching from your ruined orgasm, your hand encircles his wrist. but you didn't possess half the strength to pry his hand away.
he slides his creamy fingers again back into you again, back to mercilessly fingerfucking you. his tongue only muffles your cries of pleasure, and wesker can't stop literally fucking shoving his tongue down your throat. 'specially when he feels your pussy tighten up as he fills your mouth. it's so filthy, wesker knows he's fucking fantasizing about this for days on end. his cock aches, leaking pre just for you.
only for you.
much to your displeasure, he's emptying your mouth; monstrous tongue retracting and at the very least, allowing you to breathe. "you're gonna cum for me again, pet." he purred, licking the sweat dripping on your cheek.
"i forgive you, pretty. only if you do one thing for me." he nipped at the apple of your cheek, a grin gracing his face. you whined when he pauses, but it was to probably give you time for your mind to function.
"who owns you?"
you feel that flutter in your tummy, and you mutter a soft: "you do . . . "
"sorry, can't hear you. speak up, pet."
and as if to further tease you, his fingers begin its harsh thrusting again. "y , you do!" you said in one breath, in between wails and gasping. "i do, what?" he smirked smugly, chuckling against your cheek. "you— nghggh! you—!" "i . . i what, pet?" "you own me! you own my body!"
and of course, your body knows; cunt quivering for the second time and squirting all over his digits again. "there we go, pretty. oh, your pussy's so messy." his thumb caressed your clit, trying to draw out your orgasm. you've been so good for him, he thinks you deserve it.
"there we go. i know, i know. s'too much, isn't it?" his comforting voice is so misleading, like there wasn't a lot of sadistic, unholy thoughts running through his head right now. "shh, shh. you did so well." he kindly helps you ride out your high with gentle strokes of his fingers.
you're exhausted, mass completely resting on his frame as you tried to catch your breath. you huffed when you slowly feel him sliding his fingers out of you, the simplest movements still too much for your poor, overstimulated cunt.
"you did so well,"
you're lucid, for the most part; feeling him turn you around so you would be facing him. He rubbed your curves, tracing the dimple on your lower back.
"sleep, my love. i'll be here."
JACK KRAUSER .ᐟ
you can fight with krauser with just about anything. krauser, with his hot-headedness, and you, with a similar temper and a venomous tongue. your arguments, especially the big ones, always ended up ugly. no matter how many times he held you, kissed your tears away, and apologized and vice versa, it never failed to send you crying or him walking out.
and you don't even know why you both keep coming back to each other. giving each other chances like tomorrow will be any different.
"i fucking hate you. i fucking hate this!"
this was new. krauser's brows narrow together in a scowl. despite the hurl of insults you've thrown at each other, you never . . . you never said that to him.
did you really mean that? did he really lose you this time?
you jabbed a finger on his muscular chest. "i'm fucking tired of you. i'm sick of you being so fucking angry all the time and so fucking possessive and so—!" you only just realized what you said when you saw the hurt look on krauser's face. why did he look so . . . sad? it made your heart sink in your stomach. "say that again," you begin to take a few steps back as krauser's hulking frame loomed over you like an impending doom.
" j , jack, i—,"
your back hits the cold wall, and a pair of muscular arms cage you in place. you couldn't mutter another word when he suddenly threw your body over his shoulder. "hey!" you groaned.
a hand slapped your clothed rear, before the both of your figures disappeared into the darkness of your bedroom.
⟡
"say it again, i fucking dare you!"
you pretty much drooled all over the bed as krauser's big, strong hand held your head down. it made breathing more difficult, movement more restricted, but he was successful in shutting you up—which was probably krauser's goal. each slam of his cock was harder than the last, and your poor body can't keep up with krauser's rough treatment.
"you're jus' a big fuckin' brat." he growled, emphasizing each word with a harsh thrust, pinning your wrists behind you. his grip was bruising. crushing, even. and very, very angry. "need'a—oh . . . —fuck some manners into you, clearly." your moans are muffled, and you hear an amused chuckle from behind you; and without warning, he yanks your hair and forced your body to a difficult arch. . you were so beautiful in krauser's eyes.
"y'got somethin' to say, bitch?" the timbre of his hoarse voice is enough to send shivers down your spine; and of course, his pace was more merciless, more . . . . inhumane. how you were still able to form sentences—if you could call it that—you didn't know. "h, haateyouuu!" you grunt out in one breath. "no you don't, baby." both your scalp and body finds relief as he released you. if he hadn't held your hips in place, you would have collapsed on the bed.
there's a lot of shifting behind you that you don't see, up until he forces you to flip and lay on your back. once again, you're met with that stupid shit-eating grin on his handsome, scarred face. before you can even utter an insult, you feel him deep in your fucking guts.
he's amused at your stupefied expression—wide, gorgeous eyes with tears beading at the ends of each strand of lash. your face alone could have sent him into an orgasm, but the fun can’t end so quickly, especially when he wasn't done proving his point. “fuck, baby. you’re so—hnngg—wet,” with that, his rough pounding resumes; the bed creaking with every reckless thrusts he gives you.
"oh, fuck!" you cried out, instinctively reaching out to wrap your arms around him—except, it ends up having both of your wrists pinned above your head. it's quick, and you don't even register it until you realize you had nothing to scratch on. "l , let me g- oh—♡! y, you fucking prick!" "stop fucking talking, you fucking brat!" spiteful is he, his pounding picking up pace and force. it made you dizzy. made your brain mush. made you moan for him louder; and as soon as he sees that pretty tongue lull out, krauser naturally has to spit into it. and you, well, naturally swallow it.
the way you whimpered for him, how your body was so vulnerable for him, and only for him, and so submissive under his mercy . . . it triggers something animalistic in krauser. something primal.
he feels the cold trail of drool drip from the side of his lip, and just as you thought he couldn't fuck into you harder, he was. his tip's literally pressing into your cervix. "you're g , gonna break me—♡!" krauser keeps rutting into you like a starved beast, the pleasure so fucking addicting.
"gonna—," his words are interrupted by low growls and heavy breathing. "gonna fucking ruin you. you're mine," your pussy shouldn't reflexively clamp down on him, but it fucking does, and he loves it. "take it back."
you blink.
. . . huh?
"i didn't —god, fucking stutter. take it back!" "i don't — ahnnn— hate you!" krauser shakes his head. "no, no. t , that's not enough," you squealed when his thumb rolls over your clit. "say you love me," the added sensation makes you scream. "say you fucking love me, please," krauser whined, and you didn't know you liked that until . . now.
"quit fucking around, Y/N!" he impatiently snarled, grabbing your thighs and pushing it to its limit; 'till your ankles were beside your ears. "w , wait—oh fuuuuck—♡!" stars fill your vision as soon as his cock slams back into you. "say you love me, c'moooon, don't be fucking stubborn,"
how could you say it, when each slam of his hips drew out nothing but fucked out whimpers from you? "i love you," yet, he fucked you like he hated you. and you despised the way it made your cunt flutter as it promises both you and him an orgasm.
"yeah? you like that? i love you," as if your folded position wasn't difficult enough, him leaning down to capture your lips just makes you even more breathless. but you kiss him back. your lips yearn for him like air, and the best you could reciprocate it was a mere glide of your wet muscle; to which krauser didn't really mind.
"i love you—! fucking love you, love f , fucking you." he says, thrusts frantic and relentless. "love , , l , love—," you pant, nails sinking into his forearms. "i love . . fuck, fuuuuuck— i love you too—," you've never heard krauser whine that loud, but he does, sloppily thrusting into you as his orgasm takes over; cumming the hardest he's ever been.
"come on, baby. cum for me," he whimpered, face contorting in overstimulated bliss as he continued his thrusts. seeing him this needy and desperate to make you feel good made your stomach flutter. "i love you," he whispered, placing kisses on your temple, on your forehead, anywhere his lips could reach.
"s , soooo fucking much,"
the way the tip grazes again and again and fucking again on your most sensitive. deepest parts makes you squeal, makes you wail. only he could reduce you to this whimpering mess. "'m close, baby. right there. don't stop—♡!"
ragged breaths and feral grunts turn into high-pitched whining, krauser's cock aching from pleasure. too much pleasure. but his hips won't stop moving, can't stop driving himself deeper into you. "love you—love youuu," you babbled mindlessly, completely forgetting whatever grievance you held for him, and vice versa. his cock aches. throbs. the sensitivity should be too much, but his hips keep slamming into you.
and judging how he doesn't look any less tired . . . you were in for a long, long night.
CARLOS OLIVEIRA .ᐟ
carlos pretty much worships the ground you walk on. he thinks you're the best thing that has happened to him, and my god, this man will spoil you rotten. the moment his eyes laid upon your gorgeous face, he knew he didn't want to live in cold, cruel, Y/N-less world. after your second date, he's made up his mind. he will marry you, in due time.
for now, he can settle with the domestic life of living together, doing your groceries together, cleaning the house to your favourite songs and slow dancing mid-vacuum.
"hey babe?"
"yeah?"
he switches the vacuum off, the shiny foil atop your night table catching carlos's eye. if he's not mistaken, this was your birth control. upon a closer look, it seemed . . . untouched. was this an old batch? did you forget? he looks over at you, putting away your clothes in the closet.
"babe, it's your birth control pills!" he exclaimed, brows narrowing with concern. "have you been taking them?" it was only when you've finished up your chore did you turn to your boyfriend, looking at your pills, and then at his face. "those are my contraceptives, yes . . and no, why?" the lack of worry in your voice calms carlos a bit, blinking at your nonchalance. "but, babe—," "wait, i haven't told you yet?" your laughter mixes with your words. "told me what?"
you took it upon yourself to close the remaining distance between the both of you, cradling his face with your warm hands. "carlos,"—you reached over for your medication and put them aside. "i've stopped taking birth control, baby. since like, two weeks ago. i thought i told you, but i must've forgotten . . . "
there's so many thoughts running in his head. thinkin' how gorgeous you'd be during your wedding day. when you're finally pregnant and bearing his child. how he'd be calling you his wife and not his girlfriend anymore. how he'd be a husband to you, and a father . .
"—earth to carlos. hellooo?"
"what?"
he blinked, realizing you were waving a hand in front of his face. "you said something about wanting to start a family some day . . it doesn't have to be now, but if it happens, then . . " you shrugged.
what do you mean it doesn't have to be now?
it has to be now.
⟡
he has to plunge his cock balls deep in you now. even if his previous creampies were already leaking out from your pretty hole. he needed to breed you over and over again now. he reveled in the sight of you; with your hair sticking to your skin from how much you were sweating, how your tits bounced with every thrust forward with his hips, how your lips were hanging agape from pure bliss . . you are so, so pretty in his eyes. prettier when you're thoroughly fucked and bred.
carlos could only groan, feeling your cunt twitch around his cock. he kept watching you writhe, kept watching you squirm beneath him because he just fucked you so good—but the squelch reverberating from beneath you catches his attention. hazel eyes begin to trail down your body, down to your pretty cunt where you were the messiest. slick smeared to wherever it could, and your poor clit was puffy from how many times he's ran a thumb over it . . . but that didn't seem to stop him from doing so for the nth time. just to see your legs quiver, to see your eyes roll back to the pits of your skull.
"carlooos—♡," you whined, hips bucking against the sensation. "'m here, mama. jus' let it out," he mumbled in his pussydrunk stupor. seeing how you couldn't even mutter his name properly did things to carlos—fueling his lust was one of them; his grip on the back of your knees become tighter—and the slamming of his hips was more brutal, trying to fuck his cum back in you like he wasn't already doing that for the past hour.
"ah! ahn—you're so rough!" you whimpered, and carlos only lets out a dry chuckle. "h-haah . . i-i have to be. or else you—," his words are abruptly interrupted by a loud groan as he forces his cock as deep as he could, just for emphasis. "you . . won't be knocked up," he whined, balls twitching as it ached to cum into your womb again. "c'mon, mama. get pregnant. fuuuuck, jesus christ—,"
he could feel himself drooling as he ruts into you desperately. "c'mere, cariño," you went from having your knees pressed to your chest to being completely folded in half. his face is buried in your neck, and his hands—no—his arms have moved to cradle your head, his chest taking over for him as your legs rest nicely on his shoulders. his tongue is all over your flesh, lazily lapping up your neck and sweat. the new position has him fucking deeper—literally. feels like his tip was gonna force itself up in your poor cervix. it was suffocating, but. but you craved it. you yearned for it.
you needed it.
his hips were clearly hurting and fatigued, because every brutal slam down into you would result to him grunting and whining. his tongue's cold against your neck, spanish words whispered against it while he busied himself pounding away at your pretty, creamy pussy. nothing was stopping him from breeding you, from stuffing you full, not even the pain that pooled both in his hips and your thighs.
"your pussy’s so goooood, fuck . . love you, i love you. dios . . dios mio, no puedo dejar de follarte. quiero d , dejarte embarazada, mi amor." you couldn't understand his mindless spanish babbling—not with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. "wh , what . . ?" "shh, baby." —it's followed by more spanish muttering that you can't follow. not that there was anythin' going on in that pretty head of yours.
[ god . . oh my god . . i can't stop fucking you. i want to get you pregnant, my love. ]
there was nothing going on in his head, either. just the thoughts of you knocked up—everyone would know you belonged to him, that he fucked you, that you made him a father—it only fueled the never ending lust that he had no strength to resist. "oh my fucking god, baby, fuuuck!" his face scrunches up as he speeds up, and you didn't even know that was fucking possible. your eyes widened, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening 'til it snapped; your orgasm spraying all over yourself and him as you screamed. "so messy, h-haah, f, fuck!" "carlos, m, my cunt—!" you could no longer find the words to say to him, stars filling your vision. you swore you were going to pass out.
your cunt was sensitive, obviously, but carlos was beyond overstimulated—it hurts—his cock hurts after cumming and cumming and cumming in you, but the way your creamy walls hugged his cock was enough compensation. he won't stop. can't bring himself to stop. because everytime his cock slid back into you, your pathetic cunt only squirts in small fountains, dragging out your orgasm and only allowing him to slide in and out of you easily. "gonna cum. 'm cumming," his whines grew sharper, getting higher and higher as his orgasm neared. his hold around your head tightened, and you could only bite and lick at the skin of his chest as his frame practically eclipsed over your frame.
"Y/N—god. 'm cumming. gonna breed you. gonna—g, gonna get you pregnant! dios mio, Tu coño se siente genial—," stuffing your fucking cunt to the fullest, he cried out your name as he came; this was the hardest he's cummed, experiencing heaven as he sloppily rode out his orgasm with shallow, sloppy thrusts. he greedily wanted more, but god, he's sure he can't cum anymore after this. he's not even sure if he can lift his hips to pull out his veiny, girthy cock out of your dripping pussy.
you're barely conscious—so close to passing out when you feel a hand on your cheek, fingers worriedly tapping you awake. "baby?" his voice echoed in your ears, and you opened your heavy lids, vision adjusting to the sight of him. "come back to me," he whispered, peppering your face with sweet kisses. "carlos." you chuckled weakly. you only just realized that you did pass out, because you don't remember carlos putting down your legs or covering you both with your comforter. "i got worried." carlos lays beside you, pulling you beside him. "slept good?" he teases, and you only grumbled. you feel his stubble graze your brow as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "did i get too carried away?" "you don't say," you both chuckled. "'m sleepy," you mutter, wrapping an arm around him. and the only response you got from him? a light snore. you can't help but laugh to yourself.
end.
A/N: such a wild prompt TT but i hope you enjoyed! thank you to my beta reader, @lafox-chan for proofreading and helping me!
and here's a blooper while we were working on it!
#𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖓. ✦︎#resident evil#resident evil smut#x reader smut#x reader#leon#leon s kennedy#leon s. kennedy smut#leon s kennedy smut#re fanfic#RE smut#albert wesker smut#wesker smut#smut#jack krauser smut#chris redfield smut#carlos oliveira smut#luis sera smut#chris redfield#jack krauser#albert wesker#luis sera#luis serra smut#luis serra smut#fanfic#leon kennedy smut
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TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!
hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.
some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have
Outer Wilds
If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT
[way more timeloop games under the cut]
Oxenfree
I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!
Hikeback
i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it
The Stanley Parable
Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT
12 minutes
ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.
this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.
Zero Escape
it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!
START AGAIN: a prologue
this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)
Ghost Trick
ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it
Elsinore
im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet
The Forgotten City
a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game
Gnosia
Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…
Loop Hero
Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!
You and Me and Her: A Love Story
you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)
Higurashi
knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan
I Was a Teenage Exocolonist
starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!
that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like
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Recently finished Swayze’s ‘ghost’ and now I can’t stop thinking about post-Hell Dean, where the reader has his iconic brown leather jacket hanging in her room thinking she’s never gonna see him again but he shows up in her room (in a non creepy way as much as possible lol) and they fuuuuck like old times and she thinks she’s dreaming until she realises it’s actually him (or not lol) but the romanticism is screaming out to me, idk if it’s something you’d be interested in writing but omfg you’d write this so painfully well
ANON!! i LOVE LOVE LOVE this SO much! i’m so honoured that you’ve entrusted me with this idea—i had the time of my life writing this & went a lil wild with it LOL. thank you for your support and kind words, it means the world to me! i hope i did your request justice 🩵
─ ۶ৎ ─
────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ───
❝ sunshine ❞
─ ۶ৎ ─
pairing ୨୧ dean winchester x fem .ᐟ reader
warnings .ᐟ s4 .ᐟ spoilers, established relationship, dramatic descriptions of grief, cussing, angst, sam being an adorable little angel, nip sucking, unprotected sex p in v, tooth-rotting fluff. lmk if I forgot any.ᐟ if there are typos, no there isn’t
synopsis ─ after dean had sealed the deal that warranted him a one-way ticket to hell, you had no hopes of ever seeing him again. you were overcome with a grief that felt inescapable, but with sam’s help, you’d managed to pull through the storm and enter clearer skies. just when you thought you’d have to navigate a new life without dean, against all odds, he makes an unexpected appearance.
word count ~ roughly 15k
──────────────────────
Four months.
The duration of your ongoing turmoil. The grim tally of his absence.
For four months, you’d been trapped in the stagnant bog of your grief. It had formed the very first night you’d lost him, seizing your mind like a rabid plague. It didn’t matter which way you attempted to swim, or how hard you paddled to try and stay afloat, there was no sure escape from its bottomless depth. It immobilised your existence, broke down your hope—scattered it like falling leaves to be lapped up by the famished surface and swallowed to the point of no return. It was lonely and suffocating, but you’d since given up on waiting for a lifeline to be cast from some land beyond your gloomy horizon, so sure that you’d isolated yourself from any soul kind enough to try.
Except for Sam.
Sam had tried to rescue you many times, but the lines he casted were always too battered—chewed up by the demons of his own grief. And you knew that if you grabbed onto it—where he stood barely clinging to the other end—it would snap and pull him right in. You couldn’t do that to him, so you’d surrendered to the bog entirely, allowing your grief to engulf you into its endless, bone-chilling nothingness. And each day, you sank further and further, like the dead weight of a stone, drifting down into the pits of your despair. Your living, breathing death.
A slow, agonising journey of digestion—your body, mind and soul disseminating into nothing.
Reaching rock bottom hadn’t taken long, not when you’d been left feeling so shallow by the robbery of your life’s meaning. And you’d laid there ever since, slowly deteriorating, slowly drowning. Over and over and over again. You could have said that you were losing every part of yourself, but you hadn’t been whole to begin with, not for a long time—not since losing him.
If he were here, he could have saved you from yourself. But he wasn’t. And you hated him for it.
You hated him. For striking a deal with the devil. For placing his life on the line without a second breath. For lying to you about it. For even thinking that nobody would notice the dead space left behind. There were certain days that tended to plunge that hateful knife—already engrossed in your heart—a little deeper. A day like this morning.
The day that marked the anniversary of Dean Winchester’s death.
On the first day without him, you’d spent your time trying to fight it—forced smiles, laughs of denial, stares that didn’t linger on any of his belongings for too long. But it was hard not to come face to face with his memory when the ghost of his existence seemed to prowl after you at every turn and every corner of the apartment. His favourite coffee mug with an infamous chip on the rim. The frozen, pasty pies he’d crammed the freezer full of. Six packs of canned beers stocked along the pantry’s top shelf. His discarded shoes. His sparse watch collection. The shampoo bottle he’d diluted to last a month longer.
And that damn leather jacket, which currently draped from the frame of your desk chair.
It hung there like a museum exhibit—the memory of Dean Winchester, frozen in time. The jacket he’d left behind on the day he’d slipped your life for good. You hadn’t once touched it. You couldn’t bring yourself to lay your fingers across the leather when there’d be no warmth radiating through its fabric to soothe you—couldn’t face the fact that it’d reflect the cold, empty truth of it all. So there it laid, collecting dust and slowly drowning beneath the suffocating, grey sea without a merciful hand to liberate it. It was a cruel parallel of your own withering state.
Every morning, your eyes would peel through a hollow sleep, and the first thing they’d settle on was that damn jacket. Every. Single. Time. As if you needed the constant recap on top of everything else. You could have mustered up the courage to move it some place else that’d finally warrant the motto out of sight, out of mind. But the naive fool that had created that saying failed miserably at accounting for the woes of the brain. Once scorched into memory, nothing would ever truly be forgotten. You’d remember regardless of where that jacket lay—a curse bound to your life, never to be broken.
Unless you broke first.
You shifted at the heart of your king-sized bed, your head sinking back into your plumy pillow as you gazed up at the ceiling. At anything but that jacket. Your limbs sprawled out between the cotton sheets, taking maximum advantage to voyage the sea of space left at your disposal. While a mattress this large and luxurious should’ve offered you a sense of comfortable freedom, you couldn’t help but mourn all the space—space that at one point, had been occupied by him.
The gentle, golden glare of dawn had begun its steady journey into the room, letting itself in almost shyly through the slits of your curtains. The meek sunbeams sliced through the dim atmosphere you’d found solice within, and you watched as dust particles began to waltz around one another through the bronzed air—as if they’d been cast into the centre of the ballroom. Around and around they swirled in perfect, mirrored harmony. You thought it looked a lot like a courting display—more mental imagery to emphasise your loneliness.
For a second, some faded image—a memory—flashed across your mind. Yourself and Dean, taking to the neglected dance floor of a bar nearing its closing time. A half-emptied beer bottle clutched in his one hand as his other linked with yours, serving as the leash that dragged your protesting form to its debut on the dance floor.
You’d never been too confident in your dancing skills, a fact you’d tried many times to disclose, but Dean had been insistent. Somewhere behind you, Sam had whooped from the comfort of the booth you’d both discarded, and when you’d glanced back at the younger Winchester, he had his beer-adorned hand raised into the air as a cheer. You’d scoffed with a heavy thanks for nothing.
When you’d turned back to Dean, he’d drawn up in his tracks without any prior warning, causing you to crash not-so-elegantly into his torso. Instinctively, your free palm had lurched forward to cradle his chest in a steadying motion, your chin tilting up to grace him with a stunned giggle.
The drink he’d throttled in his other hand sloshed with the jolt, foam tumbling over the nozzle’s edge like a provoked volcano’s tantrum. It slathered his fingers and trickled to the floor, adding fresh patterns to the aged, sticky blotches already scattered amidst the young night.
“Woah, easy there, tiger,” he’d laughed, but the hand that’d dragged you here released your fingers only to form a seductive curve at the small of your back. There, he’d pulled you in even closer, his lips closing in on you with the promise of a love-sick kiss. But instead, his jaw had dipped past your temple, lips grazing your cheekbone before hovering at your ear. “There’s nuff o’ me to go ‘round without you jumpin’ ship for the first spot,” he husked. You’d practically felt the grin spreading his lips.
You’d ducked your head away from his with a hearty huff. “Down, boy,” you’d scoffed, hands trailing up his chest to crown either shoulder with a natural ease. The touch had been smooth, magnetic. And maybe you two were like magnets, utterly obsessed with being intangible, and eager to keep on exploring every inch of one another with a shifting touch rather than be torn apart.
Dean’s eyes had lowered to the naughty line you’d drawn to his shoulders, the grin he’d taken up deepening enough to suction his cheeks into the dimples you’d come to adore. When he’d acquainted your eyes again, it was through a heavy-lidded stare that promised all sorts of activities to reciprocate your tantalising touch. “Oh, I’ll get down, alright,” he’d chuckled hoarsely, leaving the line open to interpretation as he brought his beer to his lips. He’d downed a slow, deliberate sip, his eyes not once straying from yours as he watched you mentally decipher his words.
“You know what? Enough of your games,” you’d laughed, hands slipping from his chest to forsake the dance floor before you’d have a chance to make it regret hosting you. You’d attempted to turn tail and flee, but Dean’s hand had found your wrist in a firm, yet gentle tug, and then you were held prisoner under those hypnotising eyes once more. Your lips had split to offer some final protest, but his own lips puckered into a shushing pout that had you clamping down on your tongue.
“Don’t say anythin’, just dance with me,” he’d instructed, and then the hand tethering you to him lifted, your arm following the motion like a chain effect. Against your will, you were spun around in an awkward, off-timed circle that deviated abominably from the background music. When you came to face him once more, his chest had rattled with a laugh a little too passionate for your liking. “That was adorable—like a toddler learnin’ she’s got the gears but don’t quite know which she’s shiftin’.”
Your cheeks had seared hot at that comment, free hand diving forward to shove his chest lightly. “Stop—I warned you!” You’d simpered.
“Hey!” He’d laughed, beer-occupied hand lifting in a gesture of innocence. “I’m only playin’! You’ll get the hang o’ it—I’ll teach ya. Watch.” Your hand lifted under his guidance as he executed his own spin—even more sprawled and ridiculous than yours had been. Your free hand had flown to cradle your mouth as a disbelieved chortle blared through, and as Dean came to face you once more, his brows were lifted in question. “Eh? I’m a natural, yeah?”
You’d giggled into your palm again before dropping your hand back to your side, lips pursing with amusement. “Let’s just say that I don’t think either of us should be teaching the other,” you’d huffed through a pained smile.
Dean lowered your joined hands to the space between you. “Well,” he’d begun, pulling you into his frame once more, like he just couldn’t get enough of your presence—like he wanted it to hog him. “Guess we just gotta. . . y’know, feel this one out together,” he’d murmured suggestively, eyes narrowing with cheek while he released your hand to settle into its natural hold at the small of your back.
You’d leaned your smirk-heavy lips closer to his with a content hum, your hands coming to wrap around his neck. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll follow if you lead.” He’d grinned approvingly at that, tugging you along to a slow and steady sway of the bodies, which you’d succumbed to and harmonised with in no time—much to your surprise.
“Sammy!” Dean had called to his younger brother, his eyes not once straying from yours as he presented his beer in the direction of the booth. “All yours for the takin’.” He’d paused to steal a glance at your beaming lips. “I got my own special o’ the night.”
You’d laughed at that, and Dean’s charm had grown all the more potent as he stretched out the dance between the two of you for what felt like a good couple of hours. In the background, the music in bad taste had blared on, ever so eager to cheapen the moment between the two of you, but you’d become so enthralled with one another that all else around you was drowned out, anyway.
Both his hands had selfishly hoarded your lower back, pressing you so far into him that you’d stumbled around his feet more times than you’d have liked to admit. But you’d remained steadied by the hands furled around his neck, and comforted by the gentle, reciprocated press of your foreheads, gazing into the sanctuary of one another’s eyes.
If you’d known then, in that moment, that Dean Winchester was going to die, you’d have held onto him a little longer—and probably never have let go. Even if it killed you, too.
With a heavy, rattled rise of your chest, you came back to your grim present, drawing in a long and shaky breath. You shifted between the sheets to roll onto your side, arm coming up beneath the underside of your pillow to cradle it like an emotional support teddy. You tuned your attention to your curtain-clad windows, and like a corpse, you continued to rot away within your coffin of a mattress, watching idly as the sun continued to announce its ascent.
It wasn’t long before warm golds drained into a paler shades that fully lit your room now—the official statement of a new day. But still, you didn’t stir. The curtains remained cast, the windows crammed closed as tightly as they’d been left about a week ago, and your soul feeling anything but renewed to tackle this heavy day head on.
Somewhere beyond your wall, footsteps thrummed lightly down the hallway. Now and again, you’d let yourself believe that they belonged to Dean, on his way to brew you both a morning cuppa—just to offer some pathetic, fleeting slither of comfort. But nothing—nobody could ever fill those shoes left behind. It hadn’t stopped Sam from trying, though.
Before Dean’s. . . disappearance, the brothers had stayed together in the larger room of your two-bedroom apartment—nothing like reliving the good old times, right? It didn’t much bother either one of them, given that Dean had slept in your bed on most nights, leaving the space feeling basically like Sam’s own. The dynamic between you all worked well, and it was practical for a hunter’s lifestyle. Costs were cut, perimeters familiarised and mapped out, and the shared company between you all was reliable. Trustworthy.
You’d become a blended family of some sort. You didn’t think there was any external force that could’ve torn you all apart. But you hadn’t accounted for an inside job. Hadn’t accounted for the weak link that was you.
After Dean’s death, you’d gone into a self-destructive spiral, eager to push anybody and everybody away while you feigned bravery. But Sam had clocked you like an open book, and it made him the hottest target of your impulsive ire.
You couldn’t stand looking at the younger Winchester, how he served as a constant reflection of your own grief—the grief you’d tried so hard to drown out. You knew you should have bonded with him over your shared loss, and the younger Winchester had tried everything to utilise that angle to be there for you, but it’d only made you push back harder. You half expected him to walk out after the first week, but you’d forgotten how deep-rooted stubborness ran within the Winchester bloodline.
Sam had continued to stick around. Why was beyond you. You could have argued that it was because he’d come to love you like a sister, but you couldn’t help the feeling that Dean had made him promise to look out for you, should he ever bite the dust. And it made you hate him more. Because if it were the latter, it meant that Dean had always intended to stay en route on the sacrificial pathway you’d tried countless times to swerve him from. And it meant that loving you hadn’t been reason enough for him to become sidetracked.
If only he’d held out a little longer and put off making that damned deal, you could have continued searching for a solution that didn’t end with either of the Winchesters’ deaths. But deep down, you knew that fate hadn’t written that ending down in any of her books. That continuing to skim page after page would have done nothing but waste minutes paid in blood. Deep down, you knew that Dean had no other choice, but it didn’t make you hate him any less for choosing it.
The faint clanking of utensils transcended the walls, indicating that Sam had worked himself into the kitchen. It was like a routine now. Every morning, the same time. You thought he might’ve craved some taste of control over his life by instilling this morning pattern he now followed so religiously.
You envied how well he seemed to hold himself together, despite it being his blood that had passed on. It made you feel invalidated in all your mourning. After all, if he could move on from the loss of his brother, whom he’d known all his life, why couldn’t you move on from a man you’d known for a pitiful number that paled in comparison?
As they so often did, your thoughts rampaged for a while longer, so eager to hold you captive between the sheets. But eventually, you felt the pit of neglect burrowed into your stomach gape wider, something that you couldn’t ignore any longer.
Your head turned to glimpse the plates you’d stacked atop the bedside table over the last few days. Almost all of them held meals that you’d scarcely picked at, meals Sam had cooked you, and they were starting to smell. It wasn’t doing much to help encourage the full return of your appetite. But still, you had to eat—something fresher, of course.
Eventually, you mustered up the courage to stir and shed the sheets, your week-old pyjamas falling limp around your frame as you shovelled your weight onto wilted legs. You stood for a moment, taking in this new pull of gravity, before angling yourself toward the door.
At the corner of your eye, it beckoned to you. You shouldn’t have looked, shouldn’t have given it the attention it so desperately craved, but how could you stand steadfast when you were crippled with the need to reminisce him during every waking moment? So you buckled, like you always did, and turned to glance over the waiting leather jacket.
It beamed a little brighter this time around, illuminated by the sun’s pale touch. It looked almost angelic, and you could have sworn that new life had been bestowed upon it—like a reincarnation. But no matter how long you stared, no body seemed to materialise between its hold to glorify that hope. Still no Dean Winchester to show for it.
So much for having faith.
With a barely audible scoff, you finally tore your gaze away and trudged toward your bedroom door. You reached for the handle, fingers hovering over the cool metal as you took a moment to think about what’d you say to Sam. Starting with an apology would probably be ideal, followed up by a looping string of thank yous for everything he’s done. You swallowed thickly before tightening your hold, the mechanism clicking open with a brash sound that cut through your senses. And then, like a ghost, you neglected your grave and slunk into the hallway.
When you traipsed into the open-plan apartment on light, reluctant feet, your eyes wandered over to the kitchen at the corner, where Sam had already made himself comfortable at the hot lip of the stove. His back was turned on you, but you caught the whisk of his arms as he executed an impressive flip of something within the skillet. It landed with a muffled thump, a result that had Sam hissing out a noise of satisfaction.
A shy, smoky ghost levitated above the Winchester, and it wasn’t long before the cracked kitchen window wafted a clue in your direction—the sweet tang of pancakes tickling your nose. Usually, it was a smell that had you inhaling a little deeper, like you couldn’t miss savouring even a scrap of its existence. Now, the smell roused nothing other than a faint reminder of just how much you didn’t crave breakfast. Or anything, for that matter. But still, duty called. More like your stomach would begin eating itself if you insisted on starving it for a day longer.
With a practiced breath of bravery, you picked your way past the living room sofas, your sock-clad feet scuffling across the floor with a severe lack of motivation. As you approached the kitchen island, you spotted a can of sweetened whipped cream—your favourite—and a bowl of berries straddling the plated, ever-growing stack of pancakes. It was the complete picture your stomach needed to enlist the first of its rumbling, but you hadn’t had much of a mental appetite for quite some time. The simple joy you’d once held for eating had been boiled down to the dull necessity of sustenance—you ate only because your body needed fuel. Anything more than that just wasn’t worth feeling.
And, truthfully, it was a baffling, new reality because there was a time you'd have nagged the boys to drive you halfway across the country to try some new cuisine you'd seen advertised across billboards. You’d scribble down the names of the niche diners and renowned restaurants in your trusty notebook to be reviewed on the trips back to the motels, heated debates unfolding as the brothers either vouched for or condemned your idea of a good meal. Now, the memories were so distant that you'd started to wonder whether they'd even existed. Whether that version of you still existed.
You brought up the rear of one of the kitchen chairs, moving a hand to cradle your protesting stomach while the other outstretched to retract the chair at the rim. The sudden, intrusive screech of wood against wood was enough to startle Sam into a growing awareness of his surroundings. He pivoted on his heels to face you, the pan making a reflexive dive in your direction in what was meant to be some pitiful means of a defence. The white of his eyes blared through, his tall frame ducking slightly as he assumed a defensive position.
Your composure didn’t falter as you slunk into the seat; his reaction wasn’t any surprise, not when you lead the adrenaline-laced life of a hunter forced to guard their six on a daily. And you doubted he’d expected any company after you’d basically stopped existing outside of your room these last couple of days—and at this early hour, no less.
What did surprise you, though, was that the pancake had managed to cling to the metal of the skillet in the midst of his jolt.
As Sam drank in your familiar form, his broad shoulders sagged visibly under his growing relaxation, the vice grip he’d unintentionally taken up around the pan’s handle now relenting an inch.
“Oh,” he stuttered out, a flustered half-chuckle diffusing his misplaced adrenaline. He slunk toward the island with his head slightly bowed, his gaze flickering between you and the pan. “Hey,” he murmured, his lips pursing shortly after the meek sound, as though he were afraid to let the wrong words slip. His caution wasn’t misplaced; you hadn’t exactly been kind to him these last few days.
It usually went that way around this time of the month. The days stepping up to the anniversary of Dean’s death tended to trip you right into the worst vision of yourself. You were more sullen than usual, losing patience over minuscule things, and sinking jaws of hostility into anybody who’d even attempted to offer hollow words of comfort.
Bobby had been the first to withdraw with some muttered crap of I’m too old for this shit. But Sam had always been too forgiving. He’d stuck around regardless of your temper, taking all the verbal beatings while he tended to your unspoken needs in ways that you couldn’t. You owed him so much more than you were capable of giving at this time.
You leaned onto the cool marble of the island, your hands coming forward in a timid fold as your lips flattened into a pathetic spectacle of a smile. “Hey, Sam,” you murmured, and for a second, the sound startled you. It was so dull, so lifeless—you’d even go so far as to say that it was so unlike you.
It was a stark contrast to the version of yourself the brothers had learnt to tolerate, maybe even appreciate—constant chatter and running commentary streaming live from the backseat of the impala. Dean had gone so far as to nickname you sunshine and rainbows, trailing after the twin storm clouds—the Winchesters—that seemed to thunder down on the unassuming world. But now, you felt like nothing more than the rolling, gloomy skies that paved way for everything wet, woeful and destructive. A weather so devastating that a show of a rainbow would be a mockery rather than a promise.
Sam returned your smile almost sheepishly, his head dipping to drink in the view of the counter. “You, uh. . . you sleep alright?” He asked, the pan coming forward to leer you over as he tipped the metal downwards and crowned the seasoned stack of pancakes with the fresh newcomer.
Your eyes lowered to the newest addition of the pancake pile, following the faint trails of heat that seemed to rise with a freedom and lightness you craved to feel. “Yeah,” you lied, your lower lip instantly pulled into a tense bite. “Yeah, I slept. . . fine.”
You knew that Sam wasn’t convinced, the moment of silence following after evidence of some tactic he might’ve been mentally reviewing to try and coax the truth from you. You began tracing a line along the patterns of the marble counter with your index finger, anticipating the awkward conversation to come.
“Come on, really?” He laughed softly, but the sound was gentle and sympathetic, not slathered with amusement or scorn. “‘Cause I didn’t,” he confessed.
You glanced up at him in surprise, your finger halting in its place. “Really?” You breathed out softly, instant relief crashing over you. Maybe Sam hadn’t recovered as much as you thought he had, and as unfortunate as that was, you couldn’t help but feel slightly comforted—less alone.
He tipped his head to the side in consensus, a wry scoff piercing his lips. “Honestly? Can’t remember the last time I did,” he said, eyes flickering up to glance you over briefly before he turned his back on you to discard the pan at the sink. He slid over to the stove, flicking buttons and shifting dishes before he was back at the island. “I mean, I sleep—but just. . . not very well.” He took up a spatula and began shovelling at the pancake stack. “One?” He asked intuitively.
“One’s perfect,” you said. You watched as he dragged the rim of the spatula down the building of pancakes, stopping somewhere around the middle floor before he slid the utensil inward. He shimmied out a hot and fluffy pick, placing it onto your plate rather gingerly before he nudged it in your direction. “Thanks, Sam,” you murmured, receiving it with a forced show of eagerness—you didn’t want your lack of an appetite to make things more personal than they already felt.
“Yeah, anytime,” he answered, sparing you a soft smile before he took to plating his own stack of three.
You held off on digging into your singular pancake, hands idling around the knife and fork bracketing your plate as you waited for the younger Winchester to cover up the remainder of the breakfast.
With a satisfied dusting of his palms, he finally pushed his own plate across the marble to slide in a distance beside yours before he made his way around the island. He pulled out the seat beside you and settled himself down with a heavy plop and an appreciative grunt—almost like an old man of some sorts.
He took up his cutlery and glanced over at you with a comforting smile. “Time to, uh. . . dig in, I guess,” he laughed lightly. “There’s whipped cream and berries if you’d like.” His chin jutted to the listed toppings, and then his knifed hand jolted into the air suddenly. “Oh, and there’s syrup, too. I’ll fetch it from the pantry.”
Without waiting for your response, he set down the cutlery and shifted back in his chair, but you turned your body a slither to face him before he could slip away as quickly as your nerve.
“Sam, wait,” you said, your hands straying from the table to bundle in your lap in an anxious toying of fingers.
He halted in place almost instantly, turning to face you with his brows quirked an inch—like your sudden unrest was news to him. But you knew he was only trying to be polite in playing his attentive part; he likely knew exactly what this was about. “Yeah?”
You drank in his softened eyes, and they held so much purity and innocence that it caused your heart to sag with a fresh, guilt-ridden heaviness. It tugged your head down to the view of your lap, your chest heaving with a shuddering inhale. “I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your voice rattled by so much regret that it began to quiver.
At the edge of your vision, you saw Sam settle back into his seat, arms drawing onto the counter. “Hey,” he cooed gently. “It’s oka—”
“No, it’s not okay,” you cut in hastily. “I need to say this. I’m sorry for everything—for the way I acted. . . for the things I said—you didn’t deserve any of it, Sam.” You began picking at the skin of your nails. “I just, I have all this. . . anger inside of me. I’m angry at myself, and I’m angry at Dean—I’m angry at everything cause everything’s just so fucking unfair. And I know that it’s not an excuse, but I just. . . I figured. . . I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know,” you scoffed, but you braved face and lifted your head to face him once more. “But I do know that I am truly, deeply sorry.”
Sam’s head lowered to take in the view of his plate, his eyes darting about the porcelain. “Listen,” he eventually murmured, his mouth stuttering around air as he searched for the right words. Eventually, he settled on grace. “I get it, okay?” His chin lifted to gift you with a break you didn’t think you deserved. “All that anger inside of you. . . I’ve felt it before—more than I’d like to admit, actually,” he laughed dryly before his expression warped into something more solemn. “It eats you up inside. . . makes you say and do things you wouldn’t usually say or do. There are so many times I’ve gone down that road, but Dean—he’s always been there to pull me back, even if it was by the tip of my ear.” He laughed again, this time more genuine, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile of your own.
Sam’s head lowered again, his smile simmering away. “Anyway, I guess what I’m tryna say is that, I get it. I get why you said the things you did, and I’m not mad about it. For once, I don’t feel that anger anymore.”
Slowly, your fingers began to still their fidgeting as you listened to him talk, your chest cooperating by letting up on its rapid pace.
The younger winchester upturned his eyes to yours with a new ferocity. “I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you—and not just because I owe Dean that much, but because you’ve been there for me, too. So many times. Even at my. . .” He trailed off as he averted his gaze to the side, some unspoken shame breaching his conscious. You saw his Adam’s Apple bop under a heavy swallow before he turned back to you. “Even at my worst,” he continued. “So. . . don’t worry about it, really. I get it.”
For the first time in a long time, you found your eyes watering an emotion other than grief and heartbreak—something far lighter and rejuvenating. Love. Appreciation. Relief. You envied Sam’s ability to barrel through this cruel life so determined to pin him down, and you admired how each time, he seemed to emerge with a heart even larger than before. Even after all the rounds you’d emptied into his chest, he stood tall, still offering that hand you so desperately needed to pull you from your self-dug trenches.
Maybe, it was about time you finally took it.
The first tear slipped the keep of your eye, jettisoned from the ledge of your cheekbone to where it splattered across the marble top. Your hand flew to wipe the moisture away, an ugly sniff racking your chest. There was a clank of shifting metal before Sam’s hand came forward to brush your shoulder.
“Hey,” he cooed softly, and then you were carefully tugged into the side of his towering frame. “Come here,” he urged, and he was so gentle that it had you fully succumbing to his hold without a single reflexive need to resist. His arm snaked around your shoulder blades to hook around your arm as he drew you into a tight hug, your hands bundling further into your lap. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this. Together,” he added pointedly, a clear warning that he didn’t intend to let you get your lonely way again. You were okay with that.
Your lower lip began quivering with fresh emotion—guilt bouncing on the rim the heaviest. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” you reiterated.
Your felt his chin settle into the crown of your head, the vibration bouncing off your hair. “For what? Being human?” He laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, we tend to be dicks from time to time, and I’d say hunters have more right than most to be a bigger one now and again.”
You laughed—actually laughed at that, the sound snotty and slightly gross, but real. Sam harmonised with his own throaty chuckle, the hand furled around your arm in a tight, reassuring grip relenting to rub comforting lines up and down the expanse.
“Now, enough of the pity party. Let’s finish these pancakes before they get cold, and then what do you say we pull out a couple of board games?” He gave you one last comforting squeeze before slowly releasing you from the hug.
You leaned away from him, centring your weight back over your own chair as you turned your head down to your plate with a thoughtful pout. “Okay,” you agreed, your chin ducking in tiny, accepting nods. You sniffed away the lingering tears, hand coming up to pat your eyes one last time for good measure. Then, your head swivelled to face him as you put on a weak smile. “Hey—think you’re smart enough to challenge me to a game of scrabble?”
Sam laughed as though your challenge was satire, but you frowned with slight offence, which sobered his smile into a look of confusion. “Wha—you’re serious?” He huffed, jaw gaped around disbelief.
“And why wouldn’t I be?” You exclaimed, your voice cracking around a light giggle—the first you’d uttered in a while. “I’m as smart as you are—we read the same books!”
His averted his gaze, head cocking to the side with a scoff before he glanced back at you in amusement. “Yeah, and after you gave your reports, I had to go back and reread every single one of those books to fill in information you left out,” he said pointedly.
You shook your head with light disbelief, a thin chuckle following after. “You know what? Let’s have that round, and if you win, you can bullshit my literacy skills all you like. Deal?” You outstretched your hand across the counter.
Sam’s gaze ducked to the gesture, his brows cocking on a look that you thought was a little too smug, before his hand reached to link with yours in an informal pact. “Deal,” he said through a scheming smirk.
You squeezed his hand lightly as a warning. “Wipe that douche-display off your lips, nothing’s set in stone.”
“Yeah, no, of course,” he replied nonchalantly, but when your hands unlinked, you saw the corner of his mouth hitch with some mental remark.
“All right, that’s it.” You took up your utensils while Sam glanced you over with slight surprise. You began digging into your pancake with a renewed sense, plopping the first piece into your mouth and taking on a ferocious chew. There was a brief wave of nausea at the food’s sudden intrusion before it quickly dissipated at the sweet taste, beckoning you back for another bite.
“You might wanna slow down there,” he laughed, hands tending to his own plate before they finally presented his first bite to his lips with far more poise.
“Uh uh,” you hummed through a mouthful, swallowing thickly before continuing. “I got a lot riding on this. You made it personal when you brought my ego into this. Sooner we’re done here, sooner I can beat you.”
Sam let out a disbelieved laugh, but didn’t argue any further as he began dissembling his own pancakes at a faster rate. Once you’d both lapped down the dough and licked the plates clean, you’d taken to washing up the dishes and wiping down the counters while Sam procured the board games that had long since collected dust. You’d taken the liberty of microwaving you both a bowl of popcorn and pouring glasses of soda while he set out the game within the living room. Then, you both settled down for the first round, snacks at the ready.
Sam had won, as he’d so smugly anticipated. But you weren’t so eager to be humiliated without a challenge, so for the rest of the day, you’d played out the game to a tally of the most wins. Hours seemed to pass like the impression of a second, the apartment growing dimmer and dimmer with each trailing retreat of the sun.
Eventually, you were both cast in a saturated bronze that poured in through the living room windows, illuminating the score page you’d scribbled up and further glorifying Sam’s final win. He took the game by far, and you were forced to acknowledge that maybe he was the smarter one of you both. Or at least the more apt thinker.
After that, you’d both powered through a movie of his choice, chowing down on some Chinese takeout he’d had delivered. And you emptied the carton down to the last noodle, appeasing the appetite you’d developed somewhere throughout the day. Already, you felt so much lighter—physically and mentally—and you knew that you owed it all to Sam and his perseverence. You couldn’t help but beam with some newfound appreciation for the younger Winchester.
Through the darkness, the tv screen emitted just enough light to illuminate Sam’s side profile. His eyes were glued to the screen, jaw circulating hasty chews as he practically inhaled his second bowl of popcorn. The sight made you shake your head with light amusement, and you watched him a little longer just for the sake of it.
“Hey, Sam?” You eventually called, which made him face you with a look of sudden concern.
His hand halted within his bowl. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. For today—for everything.” You offered him a warm, appreciative smile. He’d given you something you desperately needed today—a distraction. From everything and most definitely from yourself. Debts like those didn’t feel possible to repay, but you’d try, regardless. As long as it took.
Sam took a moment to drink in your words, his features motionless before his brows furrowed like he’d made nothing of your gesture. “Yeah, no problem,” he answered, a smile to match yours following shortly after. You both turned your attention back to the screen, and for the rest of the movie, you sat in comfortable, popcorn-tinged silence.
Once the movie came to an end, you’d both chatted about anything and everything until the first person let a yawn slip—that person being you. After that, you’d both tidied up the space, folded the blankets and packed the games back into their keep. Then, you’d dipped into your room to gather your old dishes, discarding the food and washing up the plates. Sam had helped pack it all away.
Once the day’s chores were wrapped up, you’d both exchanged your nightly greetings before going your separate ways. Sam retreated back to his room, though not without snagging a thick book from the shared reading shelf. You’d briefly slipped into your own room to pull out a fresh set of pyjamas and a towel before dipping your toes into a much needed shower.
Once you felt you’d scrubbed off enough of your week-long rot, you’d slunk from the shower and back to your room to call it a day. When you clicked the door closed behind you, you hovered on the spot with a hearty sigh into the dim atmosphere. You took a moment to reflect on the day, and for once, it provoked a smile—not sadness, not anger, not grief—but a genuine smile. The relief after the storm.
You flicked on the light and dressed yourself into your fresh set of clothes, teeth brushed and hair secured back before you flicked the lights off and sank into your bed with a new type of exhaustion. A fulfilling one. It wasn’t long before sleep arrived to hurl you into vivid dreams, and not unlike other times, you dreamt of Dean.
Within your bed, he had you bare and sprawled out beneath his own nude figure, his lips wandering gentle, curious trails along the side of your jaw before dipping down the ledge to trawl the arch of your neck. His elbows propped him up on either side of your head as he took his time to lovingly brand you with his wet caress, your own hands combing blissful strokes through his hair.
You sank back into your pillow, lips parting with breathy mewls as he shifted his attention down to your breasts. He moved to cup one tenderly, tongue swirling a loop around the hardened bud, his strained moan sprawling into the mix of stimulation as you tightened your hold within his hair.
“Dean,” you exhaled weakly, for no reason other than to verbalise the unorthodox way he made you feel. Your teeth found your lower lip in a restrained nibble as he acknowledged your absent-minded praise with a gentle kneading of your breast—as if he sought to gorge on it to the point of total devouring.
You felt the blood flow vigorously to your chest, spurred onward by the suctioning of his lips, and it pooled at your nipple, causing it to throb within his hold. You let slip a soft noise of discomfort, your hand collapsing from his hair to gently push him back at the collarbone.
Dean’s head lifted to yours, a slight pant wafting from his glistening lips. “All good there, sunshine?” He murmured, hand slipping from your breast to run a light, reassuring finger across your cheek. He smudged away the moisture beading along your skin before settling his thumb in the divot of your chin.
“Too much,” you breathed through a dazed grin, hand coming up to gently wrap around his wrist. “You’re like a leech,” you added with a soft giggle.
His lips thinned in a proud smirk, encouraged by your tease rather than offended. “Damn right I am—have you tasted you? Freakin’ delicious,” he praised, smacking his lips in a dramatic show and tell. It made you giggle and release his wrist to pin his lips between your thumb and index finger, and you held them captive while he mumbled noises of protest. He looked so ridiculous, it warmed your heart.
“Stop that!” You laughed, your cheeks flushing hot at the silly sight of him.
Dean wiggled his lips between your grasp until he was able to wrap his lips around a finger, nibbling your skin tenderly so that you released a light squeal and pulled away from his famished lips. “Stop what?” He mocked lightheartedly, head lowering down to you as he followed after your retreating hand with a determined grin playing his lips.
Your hands flew to your chest in a pretence of helplessness, your giggles elevating to a heartier laugh as he pretended to chase after them. His teeth acquainted the air all around them with animated chomps, but made no good on the promise. Eventually, he gave up the hunt and pressed his lips to the side of your jaw, gradually tracing his way up to the soft curve of your cheek before he drew back an inch to gaze into your eyes.
“My sunshine,” he said softly, adoringly, leaning down to nuzzle the button of your nose with his own before he placed a soft kiss there.
Your heart trilled love-struck melodies around Dean’s proud declaration, the magnitude of your smile hoisting up the apples of your cheeks until your eyes were compressed into half-moons. “Say it again,” you murmured, palms drifting up to frame his face and thumbs twiddling to soothe the humps of his cheeks.
Your touch set Dean’s composure alight, his sultry stare softening into something more pure and needy. His eyes narrowed as he gazed down at you, as though you had captured his complete and undivided attention. You found yourself getting so wrapped up in their green depths that for a second, it felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“You’re my sunshine,” he repeated in a voice so low and soft that it bordered a husky whisper, but the love imbued into those words carried through as clear as a shout. “I don’t care if that sounds like the title of a Jane Austen novel. You’ve got this. . . fire to you, the kind that nobody—nothin’ can gank. And you draw people into your orbit like they’d never stood a damn chance. Trust me, I sure as hell didn’t,” he laughed, both his hands coming up as a unit to brush back the hair framing your face. “And you’re warm. . .” He trailed off to place a kiss on your cheek, “—and radiant—” and then the other. “And my whole goddamn universe.”
You gazed at him as he pulled away from your proximity, his eyes brimming with love as he waited for your response. What you wanted to say was, “I knew you read Jane Austin in your free time!”, a harmless poke that would keep this tender moment elevated at meaningful heights. Then you’d both share a laugh, and melt into the night cocooned within each other’s warmth.
But deep down, something more solemn tugged at the strings of your heart—an unanswered question that slowly began to resurface despite your attempt to bury it time and time again. So instead, you said, “then how could you leave me?”
Dean’s face warped into a light frown, your question catching him off guard. For a few seconds, he did nothing but stare, his lips parting to search for an answer that you’d waited months to hear. But when he looked as though he might finally answer, no sound carried through to lay your suspense to rest. His mouth gaped and his lips moved, but they formed nonsensical words, and no matter how hard you tried to focus and decipher your most craved confession, it never came to you.
Then, the scene around you began to distort, the lights cutting out and the shapes of the room’s decor warping erratically. And when you blinked, Dean had disappeared entirely—his atoms scattered into the cosmos of your mind. You tried to call out to him, to summon him back to his rightful place beside you, but it seemed as though he were destined to be robbed from the palm of your hands—both in the waking world, and in the confines of your own mind.
And then you, in your entirety, were dissolved into a black abyss, the surroundings melting away like you’d imagined it all in a vivid episode of mania. For a moment, you floated around in a void, your mind slowly dissociating from the fantasies of its own creation. You heard nothing, saw nothing, but somehow, you felt a touch lingering upon your arm. It was warm, familiar, and even though no face materialised to claim it, you knew that it was Dean.
You prepared yourself to mourn the loss of it once you emerged into the waking world, but as your eyes fluttered open, your lids blinking frantically to clear your vision, the touch didn’t fade. If anything, it became more palpable, solid—real. And when you���d adjusted enough to the dawn haze shrouding your room, it wasn’t the image of the leather jacket that arrived first to taunt you.
It was Dean.
You blinked harder, more desperately, your heart rate skyrocketing as you attempted to rationalise whatever fucked up delusion your exhausted mind was currently displaying you. But his body didn’t vaporise into nothingness, and blinking didn’t seem to possess the same parlour trick of making the rabbit disappear, like it did in your dreams.
It was real.
There he sat, as stoic as a statue, at the edge of your mattress, and the hand you’d felt cupping your arm stroked up the curve of your shoulder to gently frame your neck. The contact sent a shiver up your spine, your lips falling open to expel a shaky breath.
It can’t be, you thought, your brows contracting in a puzzled frown. He’s dead—he’s in hell, he can’t be here.
Through the dawn gloom, you could make out the faintest stretch of his lips—an almost simper. “Good mornin’, Sunshine.” But you didn’t recognise the voice. It was low, gruff and abraded, like his vocal cords had been extracted and sent through the grinder before being forcibly shoved back into its compartment. And he sounded dull, the type of dull you’d come to embody in his absence. It was. . . anything but Dean Winchester.
Your lower lip began to quiver, your shoulder drawing into yourself as you shied away from his touch. “This isn’t real,” you choked out, hastily collecting yourself onto your elbows as you sought to put some distance between you two. “You’re not real!” You exclaimed in rising volume, which had the impersonator stretching out both his hands in a steadying motion.
“You’ll wake Sammy,” he whispered urgently—a harsh sound that came across as more of a scold.
You frowned as you inched yourself a fraction across the mattress, eager to reach the end opposite to where he sat. “Who are you?” You demanded in a tone more regulated, your hand subtly reaching behind you to grab ahold of the salt container you kept on the bedside table like a framed picture.
Dean’s eyes seemed to follow your not-so-subtle play with dry amusement. “It’s me,” he insisted gruffly, his hands coming to settle on his knees—and one of them bounced with unspoken thoughts. It was a habit you’d come to recognise since knowing him, and it did a fraction of a favour in vouching for his authenticity. “It’s Dean,” he continued, eyes straying from your hands to settle onto your face.
“No,” you refused, and behind you, your fingers grabbed ahold of the salt. “Dean Winchester died—four months ago,” you explained in a low, but no less stern voice. “So I’m going to ask you again—who are you?”
His nostrils seemed to flare with dwindling patience, his eyes flickering off to the side. “Man, paranoia’s one son o’a bitch,” he scoffed under his breath before turning to face you again. “Listen, I know you’re not gonna believe me. And I also know that you’re about to baptise me with a shit ton o’ salt to barbecue the livin’ crap outta whatever demon you think’s got his hand stuck up my ass.” He began reaching into his shirt pocket. “Now, as much as I’d love to swallow a mouthful of killer blood pressu—” his words were cut short as you tossed a handful of salt in his direction, the mound not shying away from taking a bold dip in his mouth.
The assault dealt no physical damage to his body, but it did earn a passionate look of annoyance from Dean, whose jaw slowly circumducted as his tongue began shovelling the salty hell from his mouth. You scrutinised him for a few seconds longer, not so eager to let down your guard because of one passed test.
“You’re not a demon?” You asked more than stated.
His jaw fell limp at your question, a slow blink accentuating his displeasure. “Clearly not,” he said lowly, the words slurred by his unwillingness to taste the salt with proper pronunciation.
He leaned forward, hand reaching for the box of tissues sitting atop the beside table, and yanked a few free. He brought it up to his lips, where he spat furiously to cleanse his mouth. After a rough clearing of his throat, he bundled up the tissues, tossed it onto the table and glanced over at you once more. “Listen, I’ve already been through all the tests back at Bobby’s. I was goin’ to pull out the phone and get him on the line to clear me before you decided I needed some seasonin’,” he said flatly.
You watched him suspiciously, your brow quirking in disbelief. “Fine,” you said tensely, but offered nothing further.
Dean frowned lightly, his eyes doing a brief and clueless sweep of the room as though he expected you to offer more clarity. He settled his attention back onto you, his chin lifting slightly as he uttered a cautious, “okay.” He began reaching into his pocket once more, the movement deliberately slowed. “Just gonna reach for the phone, alright? So hands off the fuckin’ salt,” he said, eyes flickering between you and the container. “Please,” he added gruffly, and then his had retracted with the phone.
You prowled after his every move like a predator, but despite your weariness, you still lowered the salt an inch. You watched as he flicked open the phone, thumb gliding across the keypad as he pulled up Bobby’s number. Then, he lifted the phone to his ear, eyes trained on you with equal caution as he waited for the line to connect him to the opposite end.
You heard the static click, and a voice blared through shortly after—Bobby’s voice. The sound soothed your heart by a slither.
“Hey, Bobby,” Dean greeted, passing his tongue along his lower lip. “Listen, I, uh. . . I need ya to do that thing I told you I’d need—you know, vouchin’ for me and all.” On the other end of the line, Bobby uttered a few, incomprehensible words. “Yeah,” Dean laughed weakly. “Yeah. . . she threw me with the salt. Just like you said.” His eyes flickered to you with subtle amusement before Bobby said something else. Then, he was handing you the phone.
You narrowed your eyes in skepticism before your free hand reached for the phone, so careful not to graze his skin as you retrieved it from his fingers. Dean seemed to notice the rejection, and his mouth gaped slightly with the hurt it evoked. You pushed aside the image, but didn’t stray from his face as you brought the phone up to your ear.
“Hello?” You called into the line.
“Hey, kid, it’s me,” Bobby’s static voice answered. “Listen, I know you’re goin’ through one helluva mind-fuck right ‘bout now. . . but it’s ‘im, kid. It’s Dean.” He trailed into silence after those words, providing an interval he expected you’d fill with some sort of taken aback reaction. But all you could do was choke on your stunned silence, your heart beginning to ram at your chest harder than it’d ever managed before. “Kid? Y’still there?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed all-knowingly as he watched you in patient silence. His hand shifted from his lap an inch, like he yearned to reach out to you and offer some reassurance, but you both knew it’d do little to soothe you in this current predicament—the mental debate of whether or not the man you loved was really back.
Eventually, your body hosted a response, but it wasn’t one you’d preferred to have at this instant. A tear clotted along your one eye, bundling up until it was heavy enough to slip over the edge. Dean’s expression visibly softened, his jaw clenching with the knowledge that he couldn’t exactly pull you into a tight embrace—not just yet, anyway.
Your lips loosened, a rattled breath breaking through. “I saw his body, Bobby,” you pushed out in a quiver. Another tear lined the opposite cheek. “I watched you and Sam dig that fucking hole. . . and I watched you roll his lifeless, rotting corpse over the edge before cementing him under six fucking feet of dirt.”
The phone line hissed and crackled with the silent air on Bobby’s side. You almost thought he’d given up the ruse that you were so determined to believe you’d gotten caught up in, but then his voice blared through—the most tender and sympathetic you’ve ever heard it.
“I know you’re confused,” he began. “Hell, this shit had me believin’ that my family’s history of Alzheimer’s had finally kicked the bucket out from under me. But I did all the tests, and I interrogated him over and over again. I gave him hell, kid, but in the end, it’s really him. Y’know I wouldn’t have even thought ‘bout lettin’ him get close to ya if I weren’t certain o’ it. So if ya can’t trust ‘im just yet, then trust me. I give ya my word.”
Your fingers gripped the phone a little tighter, if only to still the trembling of your hand, and you gave a large sniff as you processed his words. Your eyes still bore into Dean, as though it would keep him pinned to the spot should he think about making a run for it.
You shifted the phone against your ear an inch, taking your lower lip into a tense bite before you spoke again. “Okay,” you breathed softly. “I trust you, Bobby.”
From Bobby’s end, shuffling noises chafed your ear like sand-paper. “Alright, kid, I’ll leave the two o’ ya to it. Good luck,” he said, and then the line terminated with a beep. The call’s ending tune reached Dean’s ear, where he shifted on the mattress almost anxiously while he waited for your decision.
“So, uh,” he began, his lips stuttering on the right words as his head buckled to face the hands he’d crossed in his lap. His palms rubbed tense lines—like the scheming motion of a fly—before he glanced back up at you. “We good?” He settled on. You saw the subtle desperation in the clench of his jaw. He craved the pardon only you could give him.
Slowly, you lowered the phone from your ear, flipping it closed as your chest rattled with another, shaky breath. Your eyes began to water once more, and this time, it didn’t hold back. In a second, you were hurling yourself across the mattress, arms flailing through the air to wrap around his neck with a desperation that could have body-slammed him to the floor.
“Woah,” he steadied in a laugh that sounded all too relieved.
Your chest crashed into Dean’s, and his hands were hasty to return your hug as he wrapped himself around your waist. There, he completed the embrace, pulling you against him so tightly that it started to pinch the meat of your skin through your shirt. But you didn’t care if his grip left behind a bruise—you’d consider it a physical reminder of just how real this all was.
You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, all the pent up emotions you’d come to harbour over these last few months finally liberated from your clutch. The tears began to roll without practiced regulation, and you found yourself yielding all control. Because being around Dean always had you feeling safe enough to do so, and your body had utilised its muscle-memory to re-establish that foundation. To rebuild the home that his death had wrecked.
“I thought I’d lost you forever,” you whispered against the stubbled skin of his neck, the sound heavy and cracked.
His palm stroked slow, comforting circles across your lower back, his own face buried against the slope of your shoulder. You felt his warm breath waft over your skin as he spoke. “Me too,” he pushed out tensely. Shakily. There were very few moments that you’d ever heard that tone on him. “I didn’t think I was ever comin’ back,” he admitted. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you, or Sammy—hell, even Bobby, again. But I’m not complainin’,” he added hastily. “Shit, I’ll never complain ‘bout anythin’ e’er again. I got everythin’ I need right here.”
He shifted against you, torso pulling back as though he couldn’t wait a second longer to peer into your eyes. You leaned yourself back in rhythm, your cheeks blown red with your overwhelmed state and your eyes still glistening with fresh tears. You kept your hands looped around his neck, fingers still clutching his phone, and your heart was seized by a new fist of pain as you saw Dean’s bloodshot eyes pave way for his own, sparse—but undeniably real—tears.
His hands settled at your hips, fingers subconsciously squeezing at the meat as he did a mental walkthrough of his own emotions. “I missed you so goddamn much,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling now. “God, all I could think ‘bout down there, every second of every miserable day, was you—how much I needed you. How much I missed you.” His chest jolted with a forced, but much needed exhale to steady his next words. “And how much I love you.”
You choked on your breath at that final confession, words that—up until now—had never directly admitted. You couldn’t help but huff a slight breath of disbelief, a weak grin beaming through as your eyes softened with a warmth that made you feel whole again. Dean, himself, looked slightly stunned at his declaration, his eyes widening mildly as he drank in your reaction. But as you gazed at him, there was no undertone of regret or shame mingling with his features. There was only what looked like relief, if the slight quirking of his lips and the soft sigh that followed after was any indication.
Maybe, it was relief attributed to the fact that he’d finally started to unpack—and put words to—some of his more complex emotions. It made you feel so much closer to him.
Without sparing it another thought, you blurted your own reciprocation. “I love you too, Dean.”
He smiled tenderly at that, and neither one of you moved as you shared an intense stare that circulated all sorts of emotion—love, adoration, and desire. Then, as though some unspoken agreement had been exchanged, you dove down to meet his lips in a fierce kiss, the phone you’d been clutching dropping to some surface beyond your current care.
Dean’s hands trailed up the expanse of your back as he returned your kiss hungrily, his lips feuding with yours for an advantage of the play. He wasted no time sliding his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, his warm palms massaging a determined, upward trajectory until he gained enough leverage to tug it over your head.
The kiss broke off momentarily as your arms flew up in an eager gesture to shed your layers, your chest heaving with the exertion. He managed to successfully tug the shirt over your head, the neckline the last to go and leaving behind an impression as it briefly snagged onto your hair. When he gave it one last freeing tug, your hair tie came loose amidst the commotion, your hair cascading across your bare torso in fresh, yet slightly damp strands.
Dean came forward to press two distinct kisses against your lips—hasty, but a bold statement in itself—before he leaned back to roll his shoulders and discard his own clothing. Your hands flew to his chest in aid, fingers sliding beneath the isles of his unbuttoned shirt to push it over the slopes of his shoulders. His hands twisted behind himself to pluck each sleeve from his arms with practiced speed, discarding it some place behind him before he was tugging his snugly-fitting tee over his head.
Instantly, your attention lowered down his toned torso, the glorified sight of him causing your core to pulse with desire. You didn’t get to exploit his image for long before he hogged your view with another, fierce tumble of the lips, his hands grabbing at your waist like he’d needed to remember what you felt like. Your tongues found one another with an ease that felt like its fates were tied, swirling about in a seductive dance to the death. Your hands settled at his neck, gently rubbing and kneading the skin as you allowed yourself to melt into his devouring.
When your palms wandered further down the contoured muscle of his broad shoulders, you felt the skin of his left bicep raise in a questionable pattern. The contact over that area made Dean wince into your mouth, and then he withdrew from the kiss with a feral pant, eyes shifting from an insatiable hunger to a more vulnerable uncertainty. It was enough of a reaction to tear your gaze away from him and steal a glance at the mood-killing discovery. But you almost wished you hadn’t stumbled upon it because the sight of a raised, red handprint seared into the flesh of his forearm made your eyes widen in horror.
“Dean—” you breathed, overcome with the instinctive need to trace your hand over the anomaly, but his shoulder withdrew from your curious touch, which called your attention back to him. “What happened?” You asked softly.
He shook his head lightly, taking a moment to acknowledge the marking with a newfound solemness. His chin dipped down for a second, a broken, incomplete noise dangling from his lips. You knew then, that whatever grim reminder had been imbued into this branding was something too fresh to confront at this time, so you made the silent decision not to probe him about it any further.
You moved to cradle his face, tilting it up to you. His expression looked defeated, his eyes sagging with a heavy fatigue. You didn’t doubt that hell had had its tolls—if anything, you were surprised that he’d come out of it in one piece. Physically, at least. Whatever mental deconstruction he’d undergone during his time there was knowledge beyond your grasp, and a conversation for another time. Hell had already taken enough from the both of you; you wouldn’t let it have this moment, too.
“If you want to stop, just say the word,” you told him gently, offering a hearty smile. “We can just lay here and cud—“
“No,” he answered, the hands at your waist tightening with new resolve. “We’re gonna cuddle, alright, but after we’ve had our overdue fun,” he said, a newfound smirk creeping through his evident exhaustion. “I’ve waited too damn long for this day—hell if I pass it up in a blink.”
You loved it when he took charge this way. Your teeth peered through your lips in an exhilarated grin, and then, you let out a yelp of excitement as he pushed you back onto the mattress, his frame following closely in a controlled hover as he positioned himself on top of you. His lips came crashing down onto yours, the heated dynamic between the two of you returning full-forced, as though it’d never been interrupted in the first place.
Your hands wandered messy lines up and down his neck, occasionally dipping down to glide over the curve of his pecks. The heat in your core began to build with every second you spent tumbled within the skilled warmth of his lips, his hands adding fuel to the fire with the way they staggered along your exposed torso to grace any and every inch of your skin.
He pulled away to drag his moist lower lip up your cheek, pressing a kiss to your temple before he whispered into your ear. “I need to feel you. I need to have all o’ you,” he breathed, and then he pulled away as quickly as he’d arrived, leaning back onto his knees as his fingers found firm grip at your shorts.
He tugged the material down mercilessly, pulling your underwear along with it, and you lifted your legs with a giddy laugh to allow him all the access he needed to yank it free. He tossed it to the other end of the room, his hands flying to undo his belt and jeans while his fixated you with focused eyes—like he was silently entertaining all the things he’d like to do to you.
He shed his boots at the foot of the bed to terminate his undressing, and your eyes immediately lowered to the bowing length of his manhood. It felt cheap—ogling him this way, but something about the sight felt so validating that you couldn’t help but stare. Maybe it was knowing that the mere sight of you was enough to spur him on in this manner, and god, you needed him just as much as he evidently needed you.
Your core throbbed more impatiently now, your built-up arousal taking the first of its leave through the slit of your folds. You were tempted to call out to him, to utter the first, desperate words of beckoning, but Dean seemed to clock your needs almost instantly. He leaned back down to you with a charming smirk, one hand propping himself up at the side of your waist while his other took ahold of his manhood.
“Ready, sunshine?” He murmured—low and rough and slightly dazed with his own suffocating arousal.
Your core seemed to answer before you did, the area beaming hot at the mere sound of his voice. You pushed out a needy hum, and Dean wasted no time in sliding his tip between your folds. He breached through your slicked entrance with ease, his head tilting back an inch and his eyes fluttering closed as he pushed out a gruff moan. He sank himself further into you, his length conforming to your walls in perfect unity. Instinctively, your legs propped to give him better access, and the action drew him in even further.
“Fuck,” he murmured lowly, his head then tilting forward as he gathered himself and fully leaned himself down to you. He placed a kiss onto your lips for good measure, both arms scooping beneath yours in a sure grip. His fists balled at either side of your head, and you wrapped your own arms around his neck.
“I need you, Dean,” you cooed into his ear, and he left slip a breathy sound of acknowledgment before he drilled the first thrust into you.
You both harmonised with noises of pleasure, your nails digging into the nape of his neck as his hips began swaying at a faster pace. He leaned his forehead down against yours, lips parted as he fought to steady the feral breaths of pleasure heaving his chest.
Your eyes stuttered closed as his thrusts deepened and deepened, curving against your walls and gliding to meet your sweet spot at just the right angle. Your head burrowed back into your pillow, your lips gaping with a loud moan. It made Dean lower himself onto your lips, taking them between his in a soft, chiding nibble. You breathed into him erratically, releasing noises that gradually became more and more slurred until you became a hot, panting mess.
His own control seemed to slip from his grasp as he began to grunt and whimper against your cheek, his head eventually falling past yours to graze your ear with just the right verbal performance to add to the contractions of that growing ache within.
His thrusts became firmer—but not brutal. They were passionate and needy all at once, but still laced with a sort of caution that only deep admiration could warrant. He gave a few more firm thirsts, both of you heaving against one another with the approach of your climax. Then, with a final jerk of his hips, the knot that had tethered you to one another came undone in a cascading warmth.
You felt it seep from your entrance, and for a second, Dean didn’t stir from atop you. He remained hovered over you, the point of his nose brushing your cheek methodically as he attempted to replenish his lungs and recover from his own bliss.
“Jesus,” he remarked, an impressed chuckle tickling your ear. “All this time apart, and still it doesn’t feel like I ever slipped your spell.”
You released your own breathless chuckle. “I’m usually opposed to captivity of any sort, but in this case, thank god for that.”
Finally, Dean withdrew from inside of you, collapsing to side of the mattress nearest to the door—his space. Rightfully occupied at last. He reached over to pluck some tissues from the nightstand before turning back to you, fumbling the tissue between his fingers before he began dabbing at the moisture along your forehead.
He gazed at you through loving eyes, so soft and vast that it made your heart throb—like you were falling in love all over again. Dean seemed to notice the lovesick look on your face because he smiled with an expression to match. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, and you puckered your own to receive it eagerly. And then he shifted momentarily to clean you down below.
When he came back up to you, he flicked the used tissues off to the side, and then instantly, you were pulled against his chest in a tight embrace. The skin-on-skin contact soothed you, your body relaxing almost instantly within his firm hold—a type of pressure therapy that only worked because it was him. It felt so safe and natural, so you melted further into him, and the hand he’d cupped around the back of your hair began to massage a soothing pattern into your scalp.
Everything about this moment was enough to lull you into a much needed state of relaxation, your body finally unwinding after months of being held together at the threads. Your eyes drifted close, your breathing deepening with the newfound peace.
“You know,” Dean said suddenly, beckoning to your senses. Your eyes remained closed, but you hummed softly to acknowledge him. “Down there, time works differently.” That piqued your interest enough to part you eyes in narrow slits. “You said I’ve been gone for four months? Well, for me, it’s been forty years.”
Your eyes widened fully now, your lips split with some bewildered gasp. “Dean,” you sympathised softly, hand moving from its place at his chest to stroke along his cheek. “I’m so sorry—that sounds awful.”
He shifted to place a kiss on the first part of your palm he could reach. “It ain’t your fault,” he assured you thinly, his eyes bowing under his own exhaustion—as if the mere recollection drained him. “If anythin’, you got me through it. I don’t have to tell you just how shitty things are down in Satan’s basement,” he laughed, but you knew there was no real humour behind it, only pain. “But you. . . just thinkin’ o’ you. . . rememberin’ what I’ve gotta fight for, it kept me sane. Strong.”
You smiled weakly, his words evoking a mixture of warmth and guilt all at once. You appreciated that you’d been able offer him some sort of comfort in your mere memory, but at the same time, you wished he hadn’t needed it to begin with.
Hell was no place for a good man like him.
“Well, you’re back now,” you offered softly, your hands shifting to wrap around his torso in a hug. His own arms wrapped around your upper back, pulling you so tightly against him that you thought your beings might finally form a physical union to mirror the spiritual tying of your souls.
“And I’m here to stay,” he finished in a faint murmur, the words—the promise—hot against the crown of your head.
Those words lingered in your mind as you eventually drifted into a sleep, the steady sound of his breathing the last thing you needed to loosen your grip on reality. Darkness came to claim you, and this time, you welcomed it eagerly.
When you roused into the waking world, your room was fully lit with the tell of noon. The finding was indication enough that you’d stolen the sleep of a lifetime, and there was no lingering heaviness perched on your lids this time around. It filled you with a sense of satisfaction, and you blinked a few times to ground your bleary senses.
When you stirred against the sheets, you heaved a deep breath, your lungs expanding around a newfound sense of inner peace. Instinctively, your arm reached across the mattress to claim the touch of man you loved, but where you expected to feel the warmth of his skin, you felt nothing but the cool, empty space of the comforters.
With a jolt, you sat yourself up, head swivelling about the room with a sense of panic. Dean was nowhere to be found. Your mind instantly began reeling with endless possibilities, your breathing elevating with a growing sense of panic—had you imagined it all? Had he ever been here to begin with? Had you finally snapped and gone insane?
But when you took a moment to lower your head and drink in your frame, you found yourself to be as bare as when you’d fallen asleep. You shifted to the edge of the mattress, feeling some slither of relief that your clothes were where you’d left them—discarded about the room in ruthless bundles. And then, out of instinct, your eyes wandered over to your desk chair, where you expected to greet the leather jacket that had become a pivotal part of your morning routine.
Only, your heart lurched when the chair glared back at you with a bare rim—the jacket nowhere in sight.
Beyond the walls, mingled laughter brightened the atmosphere. The sound made you slip from the mattress almost instantly, where you darted about the room to gather your scattered pyjamas in a hurry before slipping it over your frame. You dashed toward the bedroom door, twisting the handle with anticipation before you practically hurled yourself into the hallway.
When you entered into the open-plan living room, you found that Dean and Sam were weaving rather chaotic ant trails around the kitchen’s floor, each brother tending to steaming dishes that you were too far away to appreciate in detail. But you weren’t paying much attention to it, anyway. You were far too focused on watching Dean, as though you’d had to solidify the mental image of his presence—to believe that he was really here, and here to stay. And the best part of it all is that he was wearing the leather jacket you’d thought would never come to crown another set of shoulders again. It was the last image you needed to place the final puzzle piece in your heart—no, you felt truly fulfilled.
Some part of you had thought—just for a second—that your reunion had been a figment of your imagination. But now, you could breathe a little easier knowing that Dean had truly returned, rooted in flesh as he drifted about the kitchen with an extra skip in his step.
Just then, he spun on his heels to nick something off the counter, his head lifting in your direction as he finally noticed your loitering figure. “Second g’mornin’ to you, sunshine,” he called to you, birthing a cheeky smirk. He flashed a quick glance at Sam before turning back to you. “In case you were wonderin’, Sammy here’s all caught up,” he said. “So let’s skip the big, mushy family reunion and get movin’ on those damn tacos. I’m starvin’”.
“Tacos?” You echoed with a light laugh.
Sam appeared at his big brother’s side, beaming so brightly, it was almost blinding. “We’re having tacos for lunch. Everything’s basically finished,” he piped in, casting a pleading glance in your direction. “Would you mind helping me plate it?”
Your heart settled as you drank the both of them in. This was the life you’d come to miss so dearly, and you couldn’t help but smile appreciatively. You jerked your chin in Dean’s direction. “Why don’t you make him do it?” You teased, padding your way over to the kitchen island.
“Call it a family discount,” Dean chuckled smugly, rounding the counter to draw up at your side. “Or, y’know, the breakin’ free from hell card.”
You shook your head lightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Isn’t it a little too soon?” You scoffed.
“You let me worry ‘bout my own shit,” he replied, gracing you with a charming wink.
You didn’t offer anything further as you turned your attention down to the prepped toppings spread out across the counter—mince, lettuce, guacamole, chilli sauce, salsa, cheese and the taco shells themselves. You reached for the empty plates and began topping each one with the hollow taco shells, moving to fill the first one with the toppings.
Dean snuck up behind you, his hands finding grip at your waist while his chin came to rest atop your shoulder. His lips grazed your ear. “Thank you for lookin’ after my jacket,” he murmured. “I didn’t think I’d be seein’ this old thing again.”
You smile at his words, hands shifting to stuff the taco with the next pick of toppings. “My reason for keeping it was more selfish than that,” you admitted. “I just couldn’t bear to move it. It would’ve felt too final.”
He hummed a noise of understanding, a soft kiss gracing the side of your neck. “The only thing that’s final is that I’m back,” he said. “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout that anymore, alright?”
“I know,” you murmured, and Dean squeezed you in a light hug, but continued to keep you tucked within his hold as you finished stuffing the taco. You lifted it over your shoulder, carefully guiding it toward his lips.
He released an approving noise before leaning forward to accept your offering in a gluttonous chomp, his lips practically smothering your fingers as though it were deemed part of the meal. You giggled at the feeling, taco fragments scattering across your shoulder as he chewed the food intently.
“How does it taste?” You asked him, turning your head to get a better view of his expression.
His eyes did a roll of appreciation, his cheeks swelled with the large bite. He hummed a string of approval, coupled with a content, repeating nod. Once he gave a hearty swallow, he cleared his throat in satisfaction.
“Tastes like sunshine.”
──────────────────────
a/n ─ can you tell i had the time of my life writing this?? can you tell?? anon i love your mind so so much please never stop your special creativity. i will be tending to my other requests soon, and i encourage you all to keep on sending them through. i appreciate you ALL and your lovely ideas, as well as the support and trust you have in me to flesh out your fantasies 🫶 now, it’s literally almost 4 am as i publish this so nighty night beautiful people!
thank you for reading! all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated
tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @fallbhind @bohemianblasphemy @figthoughts @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @titsout4jackles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @floralscented
want to be apart of the taglist for any future jensen ackles works?
other works ─ supernatural masterlist
© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.
#bluemerakis’ fics ۶ৎ ⋆˚. ݁₊#anons ⋆˚✿˖°#my requests ⋆˚࿔ °･#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester jensen ackles#jensen ackles#jensen fucking ackles#jackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen ackles fic#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles fluff#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x you#jensen ackles x female!reader#supernatural#spn#supernatural smut#supernatural dean#spn fanfic#soldier boy#beau arlen#russell shaw
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things jjk men say in bed ୨ৎ ! pt 2 .. ft itadori,, geto,, yuta ,, toji
yuji itadori
“good girl, your pussy is all soft and creamy for me.”
“god, your so fucking p-perfect..”
“okay baby, milk my balls dry, i’m all yours.”,
“f-fuckkk, you’re so greedy baby goddd, you look so sexy like this!”
“jesus–mmmph!
“y…yes, ma’am,”
“ohh shit-, is my cock all you ever fucking think about baby? bet you couldn't even last a day without my cock being up this needy, little pussy yeah?”
“y-yeah.. just like that..”
. "i'm — haahh — not g'nna last if you do that again."
"fuck, baby, gonna cum, i'm gonna cum."
"fuuuck, you're so warm... i'm gonna cum soon..."
yuta okkotsu
“hmmm—what a pretty sight,”
“is this good, my love?”
“you’re so perfect.”
“breathe*, love come on.”*
“please, love, i need you.”
“You feel me right here yeah, pretty girl? Tell me –hah– how you feel f’me? C’mon pretty speak.”
“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”
“fuuuckk- more,”
“hah- fine, but ‘m gonna have to…stretch you a bit, baby,”
“gotta get my baby all stretched,”
“mhm- tell me, baby. your pussy’s gonna f- fuckin’ kill me, hah-”
“you look—s-shit! look so pretty like this y/n. pussy feels so fuckin’ good. . . so fuckin’ soft. am i making you feel good? speak up,”
“please, please, please, more— don’t stop, don’t stop, i’ll do anything—”
“i said am thrust i thrust making thrust you fucking feel really hard thrust good?”
“you’re so cute,”
“stop.. ‘m admiring what’s mine..”
“already so wet fr’ me baby, gotta have a taste first,”
“keep your eyes on me love, want you to watch how wet this pussy gets fr’ me,”
"b-baby, don't—ah"
. “god- baby, ‘m gonna cum. can’t.. can’t hold it, lemme finish inside pleaseplease,”
“one more f’me please? You can do that right?”
suguru geto
“ooh, p- princess,”
“ugh- you’re killin’ me here with that pretty fuckin’ arch of yours, y’know that?”
“god- so perfect, look at you, girl. so hah- damn gorgeous when you’re on top, fuck.”
“tch- you’re gettin’ cocky, princess,”
“such a s.. slut,”
“yeah, give it t’me then, baby. don’t miss a fuckin’ drop.”
"princess, you can do better than that,"
"gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"
"c'mon baby, ride me like you mean it,"
"you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"
"you love this, love it when i fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut,"
"that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"
"that's it, fuck, s'good for me,"
“mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”
“c’mon then- heh- mark me. use me. show off that m’yours.”
“anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”
. “f- fuuuuck, girl.”
“mngh- slutty girl, look at that ass tryna fuck me back. A for effort, i guess,”
“don’t look away, look at how your face gets when you…hah- slut yourself out on my dick, doll.”
“yeah, give it t’me then, baby. don’t miss a fuckin’ drop.”
“jus’ . . gimme a minute. think your pussy really hah- broke me,”
toji fushiguro
“no needa worry- m’yours, doll-”
“shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh?
“don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya?
“don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. no need to be shy.”
“awww, c’mon **my wife- lemme hear those pretty noises.”
“good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.”
“c’mooon, pretty thing. let’s see that ass show me what it’s fuckin’ made of,”
“mhm- atta girl. entertain this dick girl, entertain- fuckin’- me.”
“ugh- fillin’ you so well gotta getcha niiiice ‘n round f’m again. can’t leave my pretty mama without a.. hah- fill,”
“fuckin’ shit, babygirl,”
“remember when you…hah- used ‘ta ride me like this on our honeymoon? heh, don’t tell me y’er still in love.”
“goddd- those fuckin’ hips. work ‘em, girl, fuuuck . . me.”
“ahhh- touch, but no looking, baby.”
“bratty girl,”
“heh- atta girl, that’s my girl. ‘m all yours ‘n y’know know it,”
“goddamn, i can’t.. feel my legs, baby girl,”
. “can’t stop . . cummin’ fuck-”
“mhm- she’s as nasty as you, babygirl. look at her swallowin’ it all up. so good.”
“no needa worry- m’yours, doll-”
#fanfic#fluff#smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk#toji fushiguro#geto suguru#geto x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#itadori x reader#yuji itadori#jjk toji#toji x you#itadori smut#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu megumi#jjk geto#headcannons
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hear me out.. gojo w a mommy kink
oh em gee nonnie………
i wasn’t sure if you wanted sub or dom gojo but i hope you like what i cooked up :p
pls enjoy<3
contains: fem reader, mommy kink, use of ‘mama’, ‘mama’s’ as well, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), coming inside, bully!gojo, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, a liiiiitle cervix fucking, squirting, stomach bulge briefly mentioned, begging, whiney!gojo
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
it honestly started as a joke, maybe less of a joke and more of him testing the waters per say, “yes mommy” he chirped, humor and teasing laced in his tone when you asked him to take out the trash one afternoon
when you didn’t protest against the name, not giving him a usual snarky remark, he turned around to look at you, not expecting to see your blushing face, fidgeting from where you stood in the kitchen, looking embarrassed at the nickname he called you,
unbeknownst to you while you stared at your feet, a smile full of mischievousness was creeping onto gojo’s face, lightbulbs going off in his head
ohhh this is fucking perfect, he thought
he never knew how to bring up that he wanted to try this with you, it’s not like you would’ve taken him seriously anyways, he can picture how the conversation would go vividly in his mind,
but gojo was more than slightly to blame for the frequency in which you dismissed him. satoru was incapable of being serious to save his life
all thanks to his little ‘joke’ you were now currently in this predicament:
gojo’s massive palm shoving the side of your face into the mattress, tears and spit smeared on the sheets below you, other hand braced on your lower back, pushing you into the meanest arch as he fucks right into your gspot,
“you like that mommy?” he cooed, “like when i fuck your pussy like this? huh?” he teased lightly, laughing at the loud whimpers getting knocked out of your lungs each time his hips pulled his thick cock out of you only to bully his angry tip back right into your walls, rubbing you just right,
he was giving you the meanest backshots, feeling even more aroused than normal from not having to hold back this side of him anymore, “asked you a question mama’s,” he repeated, emphasizing his need for your response with a mean thrust,
“y-yeah f-feel ‘s good toru,” you moan out between his deep thrusts, “squeezin me so good mommy, fuuuuck.” he laughs when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him for the fourth time that night, “you gonna cum? you- o-oh fuuck.” words getting cut off at the intense feeling of your cunt gushing your squirt out around him,
“haaaaa, didn’t even warn me that time mama.” he grit his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm with newfound vigor, hand coming down to rub quickly back and forth against you clit, making your juices spray all over the bed underneath you,
“toruuuu, ‘m sensitive g-give me a second p-please.” you manage to stutter out, crying out when he doesn’t let up his assault on your overstimulated cunt, “nooo,” he moans pouting his lip down at you before smiling, “don’t think i wanna,” he finishes, leaning over you, moving his big hand off the side of your face and onto the bed next you you for leverage, other hand coming up to go grip your jaw and smash your lips into his,
he hums against your open mouth as you protest his malicious thrusts, fucking you like he’s trying to poke a hole through your guts. the new angle pushing his impossibly big cock ever deeper, kissing your cervix in painfully pleasurable thrusts,
“feel good mommy? huhhh?” he breathlessly whispers into your mouth, doing most of the work in kissing you as you were too fucked out to put in any effort. his tongue slipping into your mouth, sucking your lip into his and biting it between his teeth as he groans, “you feel me in ur stomach mommy?” he questions with a grin when he sees your shaky hand slide under your body to press against the bulge in your tummy,
“s fucking deep ‘toru p-please,” you begged, not really understanding yourself what you were asking for, but he just nods and hums agreements into your mouth, “m gonna cum inside you now.” he babbles against you lips, losing his sensibility bit by bit the longer he’s inside of you, butterflies flying around in his stomach when he feels your soft pussy clench around him tightly every time he uses the nickname, glad you’re getting off on it as much as he is,
“tell me you need it mommy, tell me- fuck- tell me you want me to fill this p-pretty pussy, need you to say it,” he’s gaping into your drooling mouth. your eyes having trouble staying forward in your eye sockets with how much pleasure you were getting from this,
“give it to me t-toru please, give it to me.” you somehow got out, barely coherent to someone if they were a foot away, luckily for gojo he was pressed against your face, whimpering ‘uhhuh?’’s repeatedly into your mouth, “cum inside mommy,” you slurred out, feeling his sloppy thrusts speed up,
loud echos of your wet cunt filling the room as he stills inside of you, whining and groaning out profanities hearing you call yourself by the nickname he was so insistent on, hips stilling deep inside you, cock feeling like it was inside your womb as he humps his sensitive dick against your ass,
“o-ohmygodd f-fuck meeee.” his whiney voice cries, rotating his hips in circles and simultaneously massaging your gspot while he lets the last spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you,
pushing his torso off of your back and leaning back while he pulls his still hard cock out, seed spilling down the back of your thighs as he spreads you pussy with his thumb to get a better view of it drip out, “fuck mama,” he laughed, biting his lip at the mess he made out of you, “gotta hear you call urself mommy again,” he smirks, pushing his sensitive dick back inside you, making you both gasp, “made me cum so fucking hard.” tipping his head back, breathing heavily as he steadies both his hands on your hips,
“not letting you leave till you have me shooting blanks inside this pussy,” he giggles into the air, you had no idea what you were in for.
#i didn’t think i had a mommy kink but#this changed that#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru fic#gojou x reader#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojou satoru smut#satoru smut#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x you#satorugojo#gojou satoru x y/n
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Honeybaby
The confession.
Set in New Years Eve 2023, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II. An immediate continuation of Catch My Breath.
Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Word Count : ~ 5600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.
December 31st, 2022
London, United Kingdom
1500
'Ghost.'
Fuck, he thought. It's been 7 days since the Christmas party in Price's house. That was seven days without contact, without any interactions whatsoever. It had been seven days since they kissed, thanks to that damned mistletoe, and Seven days since Jade pecked him on his cheek.
He should admit, he still remembered the soft pressure on his cheek when she did that, and the fact that he’d been sneaking a hand to that part of his face to rub at it? It always brought him back to that night of December 24th.
Jade had left early. After the dinner with the team, she’d immediately helped Price around the house to tidy up, washed the dishes, and then left without telling Ghost anything.
Was he mad? Should he be mad?
Let's state the facts. They kissed under the mistletoe. It was her first kiss, and she consented to him doing it. And THEN, she asked him to do it again. It seemed like she liked it. He definitely liked it. As much as he hated the fact that it was because of a fucking mistletoe, he couldn't lie about how much he wanted to do that to her.
After that kiss, everything seemed okay. It was okay, they declared to stay friends - until she sneaked an unprecedented peck to his cheek.
He liked it. No, he loved it. Because it wasn't because of anything external. It was because of her own will, and that could not mean nothing.
What he didn't like though, was the reality that she left him hanging for 7 days. Seven days of uncertainty, Seven days of thinking of that little peck. Seven days of Johnny looking at him teasingly because he definitely knew something about that mistletoe and how he and Gaz absolutely had something to do with the location of that vegetation. Fucking hell.
And now, she'd texted him. The first text she'd sent to him after they got each others' numbers.
His heart raced again. She texted him his name and his heart was racing. God dammit, he truly felt like a bloody high schooler, for fuck's sake.
He typed, 'Jade.'
Not long, the woman texted him back,
'First off, I'm sorry for suddenly kissing you on the cheek. I broke your boundaries and it wasn't okay.'
She's apologising.
She's apologising for something he's happy about.
'And I'm sorry for not contacting you for a week. I kissed your cheek and then left without saying anything. It was unfair of me.'
Oh shit. She's continuing.
'I know how private you are with your identity, especially your face. Though I wish that you'd forgive me, it's fine if you don't.'
Fuuuuck.
'I just want to say that I'm sorry for doing that to you.'
'And I wish you could forget about it.'
This fucking woman…
—
There, she finally contacted him.
Ghost's a fast responder. She could tell that his phone's always active as he might get a call for deployment any time. He'd also immediately replied when she only texted his name.
Or had he been waiting for her to text him?
Bollocks. Anyway, she messed up. Leaving him hanging for a whole damn week. A WEEK.
She felt like an arsehole the whole time. Night and day she thought about it and what she should say to him.
It took her a long time to realise, but the days that they'd spent together in Las Almas, the days they worked together, it was one of the best missions she'd ever went on. If she could erase the bloody parts, she'd wish she could experience it again.
Jade cared for him more than she liked to admit. Jade wanted him to be happy. She wanted to see him smile more; she wanted to be close to him. She wanted to know him more. She felt safe with him, she felt like the world’s a better place beside him.
Jade sighed out loud, sitting on her worktable. The Garden was so damn busy this time of year, varying from people celebrating their years together, people declaring their love, or people remembering the love that they had. It was beautiful when she thought about it. People usually buy flowers to give it to someone. It’s a sign of love, showing that I care. Sometimes people give it to other people, sometimes for themselves as well. They give it to family members and friends; alive, or those who've left them earlier.
New Years had always been a mixture of emotions for her because of this line of work; because of how emotional it is.
But this one in particular, she couldn’t focus at all because of him. She’d been thinking about that kiss, and how she wanted to tell him that she meant it. Oh how bad she wanted to tell him that she cared for him.
But then, what did he feel towards her? Was he disgusted that she pecked him without his permission? How stupid, how inconsiderate of her to do that! Thinking about it made her want to scream into the skies at how brainless, imbecilic that act was.
And so, after days of thinking, what she wanted was for him to forget about it.
Because let’s be real. Why would he like her back? He’s a man who conceals his identity precisely so the people around him would stay away from him and not get too close. He must actively avoid people in his life to keep him away from danger and keep them away from danger. Ghost wouldn’t let himself slip like that easily, wouldn’t he?
Ghost? Liking someone?
-- INCOMING CALL --
- Beanpole 💀💢 -
Oh bollocks. He called her. He’s calling her!! Why was he calling her???
‘Answer the call.’ He texted her again, the calling line still active.
Oh no.
‘Now.’
With that, Jade tapped and slid the green icon upwards, putting the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Jade, what kind of fucking bullshit did you just text me.”
Oh shite. He’s livid.
“Ghost I– I didn’t mean that peck. It was just a–”
“Just what? An instinct? Your MI6 instinct?!”
“I was–”
“You're telling me that we just kissed, twice, you left a peck on my face, and you want me to act like it never happened?”
Jade couldn’t say anything to that.
“You’d better believe Price sleeps without his hat first to say that, because for fuck’s sake – what you just said has no logical thinking to it!” He rumbled with his deep voice,
“You want me to forget about it?! Well I can’t!”
Jade had never heard him with this tone before. Ghost’s voice had always been raspy and harsh, filled with a commanding quality necessary in battle. But this tone sounded like he was in absolute anguish.
What he said was right. What she asked would be impossible. She’d been too selfish to think about what he’d want.
Silence lingered on the line, save for Ghost's soft breath after he raised his voice.
Who’s going to say anything at this point? Both of them were confused as to what they should say or what they should do.
“...You busy tonight?” Ghost finally started, making Jade flinch. His voice was back to calm.
“...We’re quite busy at New Years, but our shop closes at 10 PM.”
“Good. RV with me at this location after you’re done.” Right after he said that, Jade received a location ping.
“Ghost… This place is…”
“We need to talk, and not via phone call like this.”
“...Okay.”
“Good. See you there.”
—
Whitehall Garden, London, UK
31.12.2022 2235
Sea of people had filled the edges of the Thames River. One and a half hours before the year changes, the people of London had gathered right across the infamous London Eye in order to witness the drones and fireworks show that the city prepared annually. Jade was a fan of fireworks shows. She adored the beautiful colours that filled the night sky, especially the New Year's, as it’s literally only done once a year.
And now, Ghost told her to meet him in front of the Ministry of Defence building. Standing in front of the General Charles Gordon Statue with tons of other people, she’d wondered of Ghost’s whereabouts. That man could only be seen if he wanted to be seen, there’s no doubt about that.
Jade had texted him that she was at the RV point, 'I'm here.' and he'd already read it. So it's probably not long until she meets him.
"Jade."
A deep, harsh voice that could only belong to Ghost called from right behind her. She turned around on reflex, and found the 6'3" man standing right behind her, just a few mere inches away from each other.
Ghost's wearing a hoodie with his hood up and a pair of jeans with dark shoes. His face was not covered by the iconic skull-painted balaclava. Instead, he wore a black face mask in place of it. His black eye paint was not present around his eyes. She also noticed that he brought a backpack on his back.
Realising that he's far too close for her to think, Jade took a small step back.
"Hey Ghost. So what's the plan?" She shrugged her shoulders, her breaths turning into clouds in the air. "Do you want us to talk here? In the sea of humans?"
"Absolutely not. Follow me and stay close." Ghost turned around and started walking towards the Ministry of Defense building's side entrance. Once they reached the door, Ghost opened the thick wooden door and allowed Jade to enter first before closing the door behind him. The inside of the building was a dark main hall, only a few lights were on.
"Beanpole, what are we doin' here? Are we even allowed to be here?"
"Just follow me." The both of them then fast walked along the walls, until they reached the lift. The man pressed the up button and opened the lift door.
Entering the lift, Jade saw that in order to press a floor, it required an authorised key card. "It needs a keycard. What, do you have it?"
Ghost pulled out a key card, swiped along the electronic key and pressed the button with the highest floor. The metal door closed shut, and the lift started to carry both people up.
"Where did you get that card?" Jade asked out of curiosity, the whirr of the lift being their only company.
"I've got contacts."
"...which was?"
"Guy who goes by the name Roach. He used to be my mate in SAS but now he works here."
"Oh."
'Roach'? Peculiar name. Well, both of them had that 'unkillable' trait to their call signs so Jade could definitely see them being mates.
Reaching the top floor, the metal door opened, revealing a dark hallway after which Ghost led her again to the emergency staircases, where an old, classic-looking staircase was leading up to another upper part of the building. They climbed the stairs again, where the room that could be interpreted as the building's attic was located.
Ghost strolled to the furthest side of the attic, where they climbed another stair into a small balcony high up, closer to where the roof was. Ghost then pressed a chain of 5 numbers on the electronic key on the wall, which made the attic door above them open as they saw the night sky.
As the ladder descended, Jade started. “When you sent me the location of the MOD main building, I thought we were gonna watch fireworks down there.”
He stayed silent, his hands still pulling down the ladder.
“Well, you’ve told me you don’t fancy crowded places. I understand. But on the roofs of MOD? This is new.” Jade continued.
Should he admit that he never really watched fireworks shows? Should he admit that he hated places with too much noise that sometimes his nerves could go into overdrive?
Ghost didn’t say anything until the ladder was down to the floor. “Hop up.” He said, before climbing up the high ladders, Jade followed him from behind.
Once he’s up on the roof, Ghost popped his head to see her below, and unexpectedly, the masked man offered his hand down.
“Take my hand.”
Jade could admit that it still felt weird to see the skin on his bare hands, considering how often he used that skeleton painted gloves. That glove was so iconic Jade had seen it as his actual hand. Now that he was offering his hand, Jade immediately took his bigger palm, where he almost took her entire weight on his arm, making it easier to climb.
The last time he carried her was when she got shot during the prison break in Las Almas. She remembered how Ghost caught her fall and how he carried her to the van with the 141. Remembering that moment made her blush.
Once both of them stepped on the roofs, Jade looked to the other side of the Thames River, where the London Eye stood tall in bright, white lights that lit up the horizons. The Whitehall Garden below was covered with a sea of humans; families, friends, loved ones, together for the last moments of the year.
And when she looked to her side, there stood Ghost, viewing the London Eye just the same. His dark eyes reflected the white lights just right. Jade would be lying if she didn’t find him looking good today. Black was made for him. Not that she’d ever seen him in any other colour before, but seeing him in civvies without the skull mask on sight – It always reminded her that beneath all the ‘Ghost’ facade, he was just another regular bloke underneath. Just a dude named Simon.
The man looked down at his wrist, where his watch showed 22:58. “Good, we’re right on time. Sit down.”
Ghost sat down first, followed by Jade who sat down to his right. They were almost at the edge of the building and she must agree that this was the best spot to see the London Eye.
For a while, they sat there, no words exchanged between them. The winter winds of London brought her – for once – undone hair into the air. Ghost sneaked a glance at her appearance; Long dark green coat, soft brown pants, knitted gloves, and an oversized plaid scarf that messily surrounded her neck and shoulders, plus her wavy hair free falling onto her shoulders and back.
The woman sitting beside him was looking gorgeous in a way that he'd never seen before. She'd always been graceful in appearance, even in combat. It didn't even help him that he was basically asking her to spend New Year's Eve with him instead of with her family. Unlike him who had no family member left to spend his days with, Jade had her parents, she had her coworkers in her florist, and she volunteered for her old orphanage and for a local caring home. Unlike him, Jade was sociable and knew a lot of people.
"Midget." He started, prompting the woman to look at him.
"Hm?"
"You don't celebrate New Year with your parents?"
That question made her smile. "Yeah, I usually go to Piccadilly Circus with them. But when I told them I planned to spend New Year's with a ‘friend from work’, my parents dressed me up in… this, and pushed me out of the house."
Ghost scoffed, "Did you tell them who you're going to meet?"
"No, I didn't. Just 'a friend from work'." The smile on her face grew wider, "You can visit the shop sometime if you want. Probably have a tea or two–"
"No." Ghost cut her words almost immediately. That made Jade flinch. "It's better for them if they never met me."
That sentence caught her attention.
"It will only endanger themselves." His words confirmed her thoughts. As she looked at him with her green eyes, Jade could sense the loneliness in him.
Jade sighed, "Okay. I understand." Watching her breath turn into clouds in the air, she continued, "In this one particular mission… My work followed me home."
Now it's her turn to catch Ghost's attention.
"This one guy wanted to take his revenge on me. I was on the other side of the world when it happened, and he told me that his men got my Pa and Ma on his hitmen's scopes."
"I was fuming mad at him, but then… the hitmen were suddenly MIA. Lost communication." Ghost had decided that this was an interesting story.
"When he shouted to call for the hitmen… my Pa's voice sounded through the radio, saying, "Try again." I swear, my soul almost left my body at that time." The ginger lightly laughed at the memory. "I almost forgot that both of my parents were literal seasoned MI6 black agents."
'Ah, she's lucky.' Ghost thought to himself. Her family consisted of retired black agents, that must be relieving. Unfortunately, not all parents are kind, loving ex-MI6 agents who could take care of themselves.
"Nevertheless, even though I know they were probably better agents than I was in their younger days, and they can definitely take care of themselves… I don't want them to go through that." She continued.
"I love them. And I want them to be safe. Far from any danger that I might bring back from my work. So yes, I understand where you're coming from. But still," Jade tilted her head, “My offer still stands. You can come by anytime, any day.”
Jade finished as her hands pulled out a metallic tumbler. She popped up the lid and started to drink from it.
"What are you drinkin'?"
"Chamomile tea. And!" Jade's hands entered her bag again, and pulled out another black-coloured tumbler before handing it to him. "Here. For you."
Eyeing the bottle in suspicion, Ghost took the tumbler on his hands. "What is this?" He popped out the lid and lowered his mask to his upper lip, taking a sniff of the drink in question. It released steam that immediately disappeared into the winter wind.
"It's something I think you'd like."
It didn't smell suspicious, so Ghost glanced at the woman, before finally lowering his mask to his chin, taking a sip from the tumbler.
"...Black tea?"
Jade smiled at that. "Yep! Your fave." Jade remembered exactly how he didn't like her chamomile tea back in Fuerzas Especiales base, so when she thought about going with tea, she decided to bring another one with black tea. "Is it good?"
"That's alright." He said before drinking again. Looking at him liking the tea, Jade celebrated inside her head.
Putting down the black tumbler on the roof, it's time for Ghost to take his backpack. "Shame. I also brought something."
"Wait, what?"
"I'm the one who invited you, so I must bring somethin' right?"
From inside his bag (which by the way, was FILLED with foam), he pulled out a green bottle with another light brown coloured one, along with two paper cups.
"YOU BROUGHT GIN AND BOURBON IN YOUR BACKPACK?" Jade was absolutely astounded at this man's bag. What's even more surprising was what he pulled out next. "O–Oh my goodness me…"
Ghost put down two double quarter pounders with cheeseburgers, along with fries in front of them. The utter shock was painted all over her face.
"I don't know what else you like."
Jade laughed out loud at this man's actions. He actually bought Micky D's before going to the RV point. And the fact that he said he didn’t know what else she’d like except Gin for alcohol and a double quarter pounder with cheese and fries, it’s probably the funniest thing she had ever seen him do.
She couldn’t hold back her loud laugh that she tipped her body back, almost falling. Saying that Ghost didn’t like the sound of that would be an utter complete lie.
“Oh my GOSH, Simon!” She clapped her hand together, still wheezing from laughter. "You are a top lad!"
Ghost grinned as he observed Jade's laugh. The only thing he did was listen to what she said was her favourite junk food meal back in Las Almas, and now he bought it for her. Nothing big at all, yet her smile was the widest he's seen her.
“Let me.” He poured each liquor to their respective paper cups a good amount. Giving the Gin one to her hand.
For moments they filled their guts with the snacks Ghost brought. He took a glance at the woman beside him every once in a while, looking at how she ate the burger and fries, and how she cutely scrunched her face when the gin caught the back of her throat. He too was eating away at his own burger. To be honest, this was his first time eating junk food in a while. It's been years since he enjoyed a delicious, trashy fast food because of his constant deployments and, basic health, of course. But being with her, he felt like just letting go. He didn't feel like eating something hard-earned. Just an easy quick fucking burger with fries.
Licking her fingers from the fries flakes, Jade started. “Look at us. Eating a double quarter pounder with fries, with booze on the side, on the roof of the Ministry of Defence, waiting for the New Year countdown in front of London Eye. What. A. Scene.”
Suddenly, Jade noticed that Ghost shivered a bit. He took another gulp of the bourbon before finishing his burger.
"Are you cold?"
"...No."
"You're shivering."
"I'm not."
"...Your cheeks are red."
"They are not."
"You always cover them with your mask but they're clearly blushing from the cold."
“You’re seeing things.”
“...Alright, then. That is it.” Out of nowhere, Jade scooted closer to him, pulled half of her scarf before tugging them around Ghost's neck, creating a connection between the both of them.
"Wh-What are you doin’?”
Still tidying the scarf, she answered, “How can I eat peacefully if you’re shivering beside me like this?” Patting the scarf softly in finality, Jade muttered, "There. If it's cold, the solution is to wear more layers. Not drink alcohol. Take this as a payback for lending me your jacket a week ago."
Ah, yes. The jacket she threw to his face after she pecked him on the cheek. He's not going to lie, he should’ve worn that jacket today. The cold was no joke at all. They both rubbed their hands together, and covered their mouths and nose with it, blowing more warm air towards their palms to keep the heat.
Just as they observed the London Eye, Ghost’s watch showed 23.56, signaling the start of the light shows that began commencing right in front of them.
Jade stared at the holograms and dancing drones in the sky, captivated by the attraction, until Ghost called her name.
“Jade.”
“Hm?” She replied, her eyes kept looking at the light show.
“Listen… If you think it's okay, I'm about to say somethin', alright?” said Ghost, as the cold wind kept blowing gently.
What was he about to say? How should she react? Those were the thoughts that crossed her mind. Her racing heart was beating so loud caused by all the questions inside her head. Looking at the direction of the conversation, he might tell her something really, really important.
“ …Alright.” fingers crossed inside her head, Jade shifted her head to look at his eyes, and it was, for the first time, filled with such vulnerability and tenderness. The absence of the black paint left his brown eyes bare – nothing to hide, no front to put up.
“After I say this, I think things will never be the same, though I hope otherwise.” Putting his fists on his knees, Ghost began.
“Ever since I delved into this occupation, I fully commit my life to the job; there's no room for compromise, and if my life ended, then at least I died fighting for my cause.”
His tone grew slightly sombre, probably from remembering the times he enlisted into the army, all the hardships, all the pain and suffering he endured inside and outside the army, it all had made him who he was right here and then.
“But recently, I felt something that I haven't felt in a long, long time, and I thought I must be out of my mind to allow myself to feel this way. “ Ghost continued, his eyes grew softer. It's almost like she saw a glint of light and hope in his eyes.
“I admit that I've been an arse to you; I hadn't been nice, and I don't think I deserve to feel this way for you."
"At first, I didn't know what I was feeling. You were too good at what you do, and you gained my trust all too quickly. But the more I know you, the more I spend my time with you, it became clearer – I admire you, I respect you, I revere you. Until it grows to something more than that.”
Ten! Nine! Eight!
“I thought if I let it be, my feelings would dissipate and go away, but it only became stronger. I can't get you out of my head."
Seven! Six! Five!
“I'm not good with words, so I will say this once.”
Four! Three!
"You brought up a part of me that I didn't know I had. And I like myself more every time I'm with you."
Two!
"Lottie,"
One!
Hundreds and hundreds of little lights shot up into the sky, flying high into the infinite black above. Along with the loud cheers of the people below, the lights exploded and dispersed into beautiful colours of red and blue, filling the night sky with a kaleidoscope-like view. The great bell of Big Ben chimed over and over, bearing witness to the change of the year, the London Eye flashed into colours of blue and red and white.
Ghost never liked New Year's.
He never liked the noises and the sounds of explosions as his nerves and senses went into overdrive at the place where they weren't supposed to. In the battlefield, this bodily reaction would come in handy – it kept him alive. But right at that moment, when Ghost declared his honest feelings to Jade, this might be the worst – and at the same time – the best place to do it.
Jade loved New Year's.
For most of her life, those days were the reason she kept going, to at least survive, and live for another year – just to witness the fireworks. She never once missed a fireworks show, even if she was somewhere else around the world for an assignment, Jade would find a big city and witness the colours of New Year's. Even if she was somewhere where people didn’t celebrate, she’d quickly turn on the TV, however bad the quality was.
Even if she had to camp in the middle of nowhere, she would bring a sparkler rod beforehand, lighting them up as a little firework right in front of her face.
She had to witness them.
Yet as of this moment, she couldn’t be bothered to even look at the fireworks, as her green eyes were fixed only on the man beside her.
If she were to be honest, Jade couldn’t quite hear what he said. The noises were very loud, almost deafening, coming from everywhere around them. The sounds of explosions, chimes of the big ben, loud cheers of the people below, and the music from the London Eye.
But it didn’t take a heavily trained MI6 agent to read lips, especially when he’s speaking right in front of her.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Her eyes widened at those words. No one had ever said that to her before in her life, not one that made her heart race, but also one that made a thousand butterflies fly inside of her.
“But I don’t know if I’m ready.”
And just like that, Ghost left her speechless. The butterflies flying inside her stomach had flown to God knows where. Lights from the fireworks had not stopped exploding, and the noise didn’t dissipate. It only grew louder and louder – a contrast to what was happening inside Jade’s mind right at that moment.
Ghost saw her entire expression. It was a mix of delight yet of confusion. A face of joy and love, yet of bewilderment. It’s like she’s still processing his words, and understandably so. He felt like an utter and complete arse at that moment. He just confessed his feelings to her, only to say that he cannot dedicate himself to it.
For a moment, he kept looking at her face. The fireworks light reflecting on her skin, the cold winter wind combing through her wavy hair.
She’s so goddamn beautiful. Fucking hell. How can he not love her? It’s impossible for him not to fall for her.
It took a really long time for her to finally change her expression. He thought he saw her breath hitched before closing her lips together tightly. It seemed that she’d finally regained her composure, so he continued.
Ghost balled his fist even tighter on his knees, “This job is essentially my whole life, and it’s full of uncertainty. You said you felt safe with me, Lottie, but it’s not true.” He swallowed, “Being with me is anything but safe.”
Jade only stared at him.
“You deserve the whole world, Jade, and I’m afraid I cannot give it to you. I care for you more than I thought I did.” He admitted. “I want to make you happy, but I can’t. I don’t know how.”
Ghost kept on observing her reactions, but she gave none. The woman’s expression looked… empty. Was it her instinct to not give out any expressions during vulnerable times? It might be so, considering her background. Still, what did he expect? For her to be mad? Cry? Disappointed?
Instead, what Ghost saw before him a few seconds later was an expression of… relief? He didn’t know what to interpret them as, but Jade smiled. It was full of sincerity and at the same time, sadness. He was a little bit taken aback at that. Part of him thought that their relationship that they’d built through hard-earned trust would go down the drain from his words alone. However, it was not what happened, as she called his name.
“Simon.”
He blinked, waiting for her next words.
“Can I hug you? Please?”
Jade's plea sounded like a person's last wish.
It saddened him so. He wanted her to be happy. God, he wanted to. But in the current state he is in right now, it's almost impossible.
So he nodded softly, and she embraced him in a soft, warm hug. Jade's chin rested on his shoulder, his chin on hers. Their bodies pressed together, arms circling their figures so tight, yet so gently. His long arms could almost envelop her entire figure in a bear hug.
Ghost closed his eyes, smelling the scent of her hair that touched his face from the blowing wind, pressing his palms on her back to feel her as close as possible.
As the fireworks kept coming up, they hugged like a lifeline. Not wanting to let go, at least he didn't.
"You've told me what you wanted to say. Now I'll say what I want to say, alright?" Still pressing her cheek to her neck, she voiced softly.
"...alright," he replied.
Jade grasped his jacket, took a deep breath, and started, "I've never met someone who's so similar to me. I've always lived alone, thrived alone, and survived alone, until I met you."
Ghost stayed still.
"I said it before, I feel safe with you. I can be myself. I don't have to hide anything. And I care for you."
"You said you want to make me happy, so I'll say this: I want to see you happy, more than anything. Nothing makes me happier than looking at your smile."
In the middle of the loud noise, she confessed.
"I love you too, Simon.”
Hearing that sentence felt like a boulder had just been lifted up from his shoulder; his chest that felt tight for God knows how long released its tension. He tightened his hold on her ever so gently. God, she's so warm.
For a while they hugged, not saying anything, until Jade rubbed his back up and down. Realizing that they need to part, Ghost let out a breath that dissipated into the air.
They stared at each other's eyes. Everything was different now. The person in front of them knew that they loved one another; recognizing that the person in front of them meant the whole world to each other. A moment of epiphany reflected in their eyes.
Ghost started. "Let's not change, yeah?"
Jade's mind interpreted that into two meaning, but she chose to believe the more hopeful and the certainly better one. From the way he looked at her, Jade was sure that she's right.
She nodded, "Yeah. Of course. But..."
That last word made Ghost flinch. Who said only he could say a 'but'?
"I'm not someone who will sit and wait, Simon."
Ghost widened his eyes.
"I love you, and I'm here for you. You're the only one for me." She continued. "But I'm not going to ask you 'what are we?' after too long."
Her eyes reflected a kind of conviction she'd always displayed in the battlefield. Jade might be a warm, kind-hearted, most uncomplaining woman he'd ever met, but she's not a fool either.
"I'm ready. I want us to be ready. So I will wait for you." Jade declared with finality. A smile formed in her lips.
Her words might be the ones entering his ears, but Ghost's mind registered one phrase.
'Don't play with my heart.'
Like he would. That's the last thing he wanted. Jade's heart was the last thing he wanted to play with and make wait. He must admit, he hadn't seen all sides of Jade yet. And Jade hadn't seen all sides of him. But he's willing to reveal them -- in time.
Ghost smiled back. "Yes Ma'am."
---
Journey back to The Garden was… normal. It wasn't awkward nor anything uncomfortable given that they just literally confessed their affection for each other, rather a pleasant walk and bus ride, thanks to Jade's conversational skills that were superior compared to his. She'd asked multiple questions about himself, and not the deep ones, but the very mundane, unimportant facts.
"What's your favorite season?"
"Summer.”
"Do you watch Football?"
"Only on some occasions.'
"I find that hard to believe. Who do you support?"
"City."
"Oh. Is blue your favorite color?"
"Black is, but I just found out some time ago that black is a shade, not a color. So blue it is."
"I'd really love to see you in blue outfits."
He made a mental note on that.
It didn't feel like 1 hour of commute for them to find themselves in front of The Garden. It's 2 AM, but some lights were still shining since it's the first day of the year, casting a light on their faces.
Jade looked at Ghost, glancing at the pavements to avoid her gaze.
"Beanpole."
He looked at her.
Her gentle voice felt like a warm glow of the sun in the middle of winter, "Happy new year."
Ghost couldn't hold the grin on his face. Yep. It is a new year indeed. New beginnings, new journeys, new endings. "Another fuckin' trip around the sun."
They giggled together, the sound so pleasing to their ears. They couldn't wait to hear more of it.
"I should call it a night. We're opening the shop early this morning."
"Oh. Yeah, you should rest." He sounded disappointed.
Jade lifted her hand, held it into a fist, and lightly pushed it on Ghost's chest. "See you, Simon."
"See you, Lottie." Ghost raised his right hand to tap Jade's shoulder once.
What she didn't expect though, his hand ran slowly along her clothed arms, from her shoulder, her arm, down to her forearms, ending on her hand. His palm ran noticeably slower once he reached the back of her hand.
He subtly traced her knuckles and to the most end of her fingers, making the most out of that touch, before his legs shifted to walk away.
"Text me, yeah?" Ghost said with finality, their distance increasing.
"You text me." Jade said with a loud volume. She could tell he's laughing as he started to disappear from view.
Jade smiled, rubbing her hands together to keep the heat on her hand. Remembering all the things that happened tonight. Gosh, that was something else.
She started to giggle, squealing in a high pitch when she remembered the words he said. Her feet tapped side by side on the snowy pavement. Ghost? Saying those words?? Oh, she might fly away. He said he's bad with words, but that was not bad at all (not that she had any comparison. Still, he could be sweet when he wanted to.
"Lottie? Back already?" A man's voice muttered to her.
Jade looked to the side, recognising her father and mother, walking hand-in-hand, looking as romantic as ever. They clearly looked so happy together, spending another new year's eve with each other's company.
"Yeah. I just got back too." Jade nodded.
"Great! I cooked some chicken casserole after you left. Let's feast on that and maybe get some wine yeah?" Her mother chimed, while her father kissed her on the forehead.
Jade reflected on the life she'd lead, and the lives that both of her parents had lived as retired black agents who'd ben through hell and back. The gratefulness that they felt each year, to spend it with the most important person in their lives.
What a dream that was.
What a dream to live.
Fin.
---
Happy New Years 2025 everyone!! 🤩 May this year be cheerful and bright, bringing up hope and joy to us all.
Thank you for reading!
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#cod#cod mw#simon ghost riley#cod mw22#charlotte jade le jardin#call of duty oc#call of duty modern warfare 2022#ghost x jade#ghostjade#ghost x oc#simon riley
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HOW THEY FUCK YOU || BLUE LOCK
w/ isagi, chigiri, bachira, rin and sae :D reo, nagi and kunigami version here <3
Isagi Yoichi fucks you with ultimate passion. He loves to see his best and beautiful girl bouncing up and down each time he forces his hard cock inside of your— no, his perfect pussy. With his forearms resting beside your head, he'll murmur sweet nothings into your open mouth as he shakes his head so that your noses touch a few times. "Let it all go..." he'll grant you a long, fiery kiss when you're about to cum just to hear and watch you gasp for air as he thumbs your pulsing clit, "you're so gorgeous when you cum on my cock, such a pretty girl". Most of the time, Isagi won't let himself cum until you're incapable of moaning anything but his name and his name only.
"C'mon baby, moan my name. Hell, fuckin' scream it if you want to. F-Fuck!" he'll pry it out of you, he always does. It's not like you can help it when he's making you feel so good, its the only name you'll ever be thinking of no matter what situation you're in.
Chigiri Hyoma fucks you with unrivalled speed. He never fails to leave you unable to form a coherent sentence, your brain turning to mush throughout your fuck sessions every single time. "Hngh, what a view," he'll moan and kiss one of your calves laid upon his shoulders whilst drilling into your sopping cunt, having your asscheeks propped up on his knees so his arms can wrap around your limp thighs. Whenever you're trying to speak, Chigiri will change pace to fuck you faster. He can't get enough of your futile attempts at speaking, revelling in the cute, long-winded whimpers that jump along with his thrusts.
"Fuuuuck... a-almost too fast for this pretty pussy to handle..." he'll stutter, leaning his warm forehead into your raised leg before the soft walls gripping at his dick begin to constrict again, opening his clenched eyes to witness you cum without warning. "One more time, atta girl. Don't pass out on me, dumbass."
Bachira Meguru fucks you with eager fascination. There's no such thing as a boring sex life with him around. Your noises and expressions are what he thrives off of, so you can forget trying to keep anything from him as he will, without a doubt, succeed in getting the reaction he wants from you. He loves getting you all embarrassed with his unpredictable antics, like the times when he'll land a swift slap upon your swollen clit right after caressing you so gently. "Mmph!" he'll bite his lip playfully at the sharp impact and grin sinfully at your bowed brows, "my, myyyy~ you liked that, didn't you?".
Bachira will treat sex like a damn guessing game, you don't understand why though, seeing as he knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe it's to show you how amazing he is in bed without sounding so egotistical. "Are you going to cum? No? A-Agh, how about now? Just kidding. Cum all over me..." he'll joke whilst relentlessly slamming his hips against your ass, observing your body jolt uncontrollably in his lap. "That's it, that's my slutty little monster."
Itoshi Rin fucks you with intense craving. He's utterly obsessed with you. You're the one segment of his life that big brother Sae cannot touch, and he likes to keep it that way. He'll never get over the sensation of security your tight, wet pussy brings forth, his loud sighs and possessive gripping at your thighs giving him away every time. Everything about your existence stokes a desire within him, making him crave that particular, heart-melting expression that Sae could never achieve. "Huh, huh..." he'll pant into your neck whilst ruthlessly humping you against the wall, "only I can make you feel like this, only me...". He'll have your entire body quivering, convulsing under his expert touch in seconds, and its when you do reach your high that he pays more attention than he would during a fucking soccer match.
Rin would rather die than not be able to see you cum for him. For him to be content, he has to etch the memory into his brain. "Good girl, good girl," he'll lovingly caress your contorting face and angle his hips perfectly, "I want you to cum s-so hard for me, so hard for me that you forget your own name." Sometimes the rewarding sight ends up being too much for his poor heart to take in, ropes of white releasing inside of you unexpectedly.
Itoshi Sae fucks you with utmost confidence. He knows damn well that nobody can have the control that he has over you. You'd do anything for him. "Now, bend over and fucking take it for me." he'll demand whilst tapping his bare cock upon your asscheek, not a single worry about your obedience faltering because... its him, of course you'll obey. When he fucks you from behind, he loves to gently grab you by the neck and pull your back into his chest. He'll praise you for your best behaviour, heavy balls thumping against your clit with his brutal thrusting. "Like a fucking champion..." with a hand brushing stray hairs away from your heated face.
Out of all the trophies he's racked up over the past, you're by far his most treasured. Sae is reminded of this once he sees your plumped lips open in a silent scream, spongy walls vice-like around his length as your release hits you like a brick. "There you go, cream on my fat cock." he'll groan into your sensitive ear, the hand around your neck coiling tighter like a deadly constricter snake.
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#blue lock smut#blue lock#isagi yoichi#isagi smut#bachira meguru#bachira smut#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#bllk smut#chigiri smut#chigiri hyoma#itoshi sae#itoshi sae smut
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i saw a jay edit with him and lollipops… pls do your magic 🤧💗
your wish is my command 😇
***
“Tastes so sweet, baby.”
Jay pushes the lollipop in his mouth and you’re forced to watch his tongue roll over the hard candy while your legs are spread wide open, one of his hands harshly gripping your thigh with palm. He looks at you when he swipes his tongue over the cherry-flavored lollipop and chuckles when he sees your eyes following his mouth.
“Keep this for me, yeah?” Jay beckons your mouth open by pushing the lollipop towards you. The candy is wet and warm from and your hips buck at the sight of his reddened tongue hovering over you. “Gonna eat this pretty fucking pussy.”
Jay descends on your folds and licks you like he licked the lollipop. He lets his spit drip over you and scoops up your arousal with tongue just to spread it around. His palms push your legs flat on the mattress while you try not to bite the candy with your teeth. But he’s making it hard, especially when his expert technique makes you want to buck your hips right into his face.
His tongue laps and laps over you until he moves the tip of his tongue to thrust right into your open, warm hole. Jay moves his head back and forth to push his tongue in and out of you, loving the way you squirm beneath him. The tip of his nose bumps your clit on occasion and it has you moaning around the candy.
Jay lifts himself up and grins to himself when you whine at the loss of his tongue. He pulls the white stick from your hand and pushes the lollipop back in his mouth.
“You taste like cherry, you know that?” God, Jay’s so fucking good at making you clench around nothing. “Wish I could take you wherever I go and eat you out wherever I want.”
Jay pulls the candy from his mouth and angles his head above your pussy, gathering a wad of spit before letting it slowly drip onto your clit. He loves hearing you whimper, especially when you see the wet string until it inevitably breaks.
Before you can think of his tongue again, Jay brings the lollipop to your pussy and pushes the candy around the spit. He gathers the wetness and rubs the it over your slit in a back and forth motion, staring at your pussy like he’s just hit the jackpot. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth parts open wide, a pained moan emitting from his throat. You swear it could’ve been a whimper.
“Fuuuuck. Yeah, you’re gonna taste so fucking sweet in just a minute.” His pretty hands keep sliding the lollipop up and down your slit.
Your hips buck against the candy when he puts it directly onto your clit. “Fuck, Jay.”
“Yeah? You like that?” You moan when he lightly taps the lollipop against your bud. “Like it when I use this on you? Wish you could see how hot you look.”
He taps it against you a few more times before pulling the candy back and sucking it once more. Jay’s lips look incredible around it and the satisfied moan that comes deep within his chest makes your clit ache. You welcome the remnants of the lollipop when Jay puts it back in your mouth and moan around it when his tongue is back on you.
It’s like he’s on double time now. Jay licks up a fat stripe when he goes back down and flattens his tongue like he’s trying to taste all of you at once. He buries his nose deep within you and doesn’t worry about breathing as long as his tongue continues to taste the mixture of your arousal and the artificial cherry he’s come to associate with you.
He laps you up like a dog drinking water after a hot summer day. He’s precise but quick, tongue expertly grazing over all of your sensitive points as your hips buck against his face. This time, Jay isn’t forcing your legs down to be obedient for him. He’s gripping your thighs and doesn’t care that you’re starting to suffocate him by squeezing his head. The pleasure feels far too good and he moves his body until his hard cock is directly on his bed.
Jay brings down in his boxers and humps the mattress below him, not caring that he might look like an inexperienced teenager. He knows he’s got the mouth of a sex god when you moan for him. He feels the vibrations in your pussy and it only urges him to continue his ministrations. Jay’s fingertips grip your meaty flesh and he pushes his hips down below him, not caring that he’s probably making the bed move.
Your own hips chase after his mouth erratically like you’re thrashing around. You have to pull the candy out of your mouth to prevent yourself from choking as the bottom half of your body moves until you’re arching off of the bed. The added pressure of his tongue reaching the deepest points inside of you pushes you over the edge and you swear you’ve never come so hard in your life.
Jay moans right into you as soon as he tastes your release. He humps the bed harder and pushes his rock hard cock against the fabric of his boxers until he’s spilling into it, the sticky, wet mess turning him on even more than he already is.
He feels his cum spurt out in thick ropes as you come down from your high and soothes your pussy over with a gentle motion of his tongue as he finishes his own orgasm. Jay’s eyes lift to your face and sees your euphoric expression between the valley of your breasts and pushes his cock against the mattress one final time before pulling himself away from your body.
When you feel him move off or the bed, you put the lollipop back in your mouth and suck on the candy. You watch as Jay kneels beside you on his knees, pushing down his boxers to pull out his still-hardened cock with his cum around it.
Eagerly, you discard of the candy by handing it to him and wrapping your lips around his dick, putting the enlarged head between your lips as your tongue runs over his slit to catch the last bit of cum. Jay watches from above and finishes the rest of the lollipop while you push your head further onto his cock to clean him up, humming at the salty taste of his orgasm.
Your tongue runs underneath his dick and he twitches inside of you. With the way you keep pulling him into your warm, wet mouth and how your cheeks are hollowed to created a makeshift vacuum, it’s no surprise that Jay cums again.
Jay throws his head back and lets out a long, deep moan. He discards of the white stick on his night table and pushes his cock into you until the tip hits the back of your throat. You keep your head there, hand coming up to massage his balls as you milk every last drop out of him. He pulls back when he finishes cumming and drags his cock against your tongue until he slips out of you. Still half-hard, Jay pulls your body to the edge of the bed as you yelp.
“Such a good mouth, making me finish like that. Wanna cum for a second time?”
Jay doesn’t wait for you to nod and pushes himself inside, forcing his semi-hard dick into your hole and groans at the pain and overstimulation. You moan and claw at his abdomen at the delightful intrusion. It feels too good for the both of you to quit right now. He doesn’t want to stop the sex marathon he’s started with you.
And he doesn’t. Neither of you know how many orgasms are shared collectively between you two by the time you’re too spent to continue fucking. All you know is that the room smells like candy and sex.
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! x
#enhypen smut#enha smut#jay smut#jay x reader#enhypen x reader#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha x reader#jay#my writing*#hard thought*#queue
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omgggggg togame with a breeding kink i 🫣 if he can take care of choji of course he could take care of a baby
hello, anon! first off, holy shit thank you for planting that idea in my brain. togame with a breeding kink is making me THINK THINGS.
" togame didn’t realize he had a breeding kink until you put the offer on the table. now it’s all he wants to do to you. "
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : BREEDING KINK TOGAME TIME HOLY FUUUUCK, slight praise + degradation combo if you squint, fem! reader, mating press, slight choking, reader is kind of a brat but togame can manage, crying over how good it feels, togame’s going feral, togame’s breeder ballz, togame’s horse cock, togame.
you know the drill. MDNI under the cut. if you’re under 18, shoo shoo now please and thank you.
“I kinda want a baby,” you say as your sunk into your plush couch, sounds ranging from 2 second long clips of popular pop songs to ridiculous soundbytes emanate from your phone while you mindlessly scroll through your instagram reels. your eyes don’t meet togame’s but you can just feel him staring at you with eyes larger than saucers.
you feel the couch dipping when he moves to see you clearer. “woah, babe. where’s this all comin’ from?” he purred with a light lilt to his voice, already set to tease you about it. he’s placing his phone down on the coffee table to face you fully on the couch.
you got his attention.
“I mean… you can handle choji right? if you can take care of him, then you can definitely take care of a baby,” you follow suit, placing your phone on top of his on the table, mirroring him as you face him too. “just thought you’d be a great dad and all.”
‘—a great dad…’ he echoes in his mind. that… sounds appealing to him somehow.
“babies don’t beat people up senselessly, do they?” he jokes. it’s his own silly way of lightening up the mood because huh? that was such a serious subject to open up about. but then he’s met with silence and you reaching out to take your phone back from the coffee table.
oh. oh you were serious about it.
he fucked up there.
you feel his larger hand cover yours before you even touch your phone. with a chuckle, his voice lowers into a soft drawn out tone. it’s like he’s cooing at you. “hmm. ‘a baby’ or ‘our baby’, bunny?” a smile ghosts his features, an eyebrow raised at you with his head angled towards you. while he’s waiting for you to cool down (it doesn’t take long), he’s raising your hand to his lips, he presses kisses on the back of it without looking away from you for a second.
he wants you to know he’s serious too. albeit a bit more… eager than he’d hoped he’d seem.
“…you know what i mean, idiot,” you add with a roll of your eyes. pulling your hand away, you effortlessly pivot yourself to straddle his lap on the couch. he lets out a small hum with his large hands squeezing your ass cheeks. you can feel his thumbs digging into your hip bones, guiding you to move on his now hardened cock through his gray sweatpants.
“i wanna hear it from your lips though,” he guides you to circle your hips, earning a soft sigh from him when you wordlessly comply. “let me ask it again,” his thumbs reach into your shirt to rub at the skin of your hips. your hips seem like they got a mind of its own. staring down at your boyfriend, you swear there’s a different type of glow to them.
he already knew what you wanted to do when you placed your phone over his and not beside it.
“you want me to take care of ‘a baby’ or ‘our baby’?” he purrs, feeling you soak through your panties. his sweatpants have two darker spots on them now, right under where you’re grinding and one just above it. already succumbing to the pleasure, you shamelessly, deliciously start grinding harder, your hands behind you and steady on his knees. letting go of your hip, he thumbs your clit while you continue riding him. you let out a yelp.
“hm? well, baby? you just gonna ride me dry and leave me hangin’?”
a beat.
“o-our baby.” you moan, throwing your head back while you continue soaking through your shorts, your panties. “our baby, togame- fuck-“
withdrawing his thumb harshly from your clit, he purrs. “good fucking girl.”
expertly maneuvering you so he could have you underneath him on the couch, his hand yanks your panties so they’re just hanging from your ankle. dipping lower, he presses kisses along your clothed chest and down, down towards your sopping wet pussy. licking and gently biting on your inner thigh, he looks up at you to speak once more. “Imma need you to scream that shit later, alright doll? I want the neighbors to know yer getting a baby put in ya.”
"so we throwin' the condoms away now?" he teases, motioning over to the side of your bed where you leave boxes upon boxes of condoms. you're both on the bed now, clothes haphazardly shed around your apartment. he's prepped you on the couch earlier, eating you out until you were an absolute quivering mess. your thighs are littered with hickies, bites and small crescents from his nails from when you tried to move away -- you were sensitive but he knew you could handle it.
he's hovering over you, staring down at you so lovingly you almost want him to cuddle you instead. his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean into it, staring back up at him. FUCK. OKAY. gotta keep your head in the game.
you're trying to get bred and your boyfriend is more than willing to do so. "just shut up and fuck a baby into me already-" you groan, hooking your legs over his waist to pull him closer to you. he's painfully hard right now and he so desperately needs that hot wet warmth envelop him but.. what's this? attitude when he's giving you what you want?
he knows your little game. he's gonna play into it like the great boyfriend that he is.
"okaaay, okay. jesus, baby. tryna let me fuck that attitude outta ya?" his hand ghosts along your neck, caressing it before giving it a light squeeze. your smaller hand caresses his forearm.
"should I just get up and leave?" you add, squeezing his forearm, making him squeeze just a bit harder. "I said what I said."
he huffs when he feels your ankles digging into his lower back. "bossy," reaching down, he pumps his cock a few times before painting the pre on your folds. he's licking his lips now, loving the slick that's coating his thick, mushroom tip. "but that's why I fell in love with you." dripping lube onto your pussy and his tip now, he moves.
no prep, no easing in, no whispered assurances. he's fully sheathed inside of you now; he's curved upwards and to the right so he's definitely, definitely pressing up against the spongey part, moving slightly just to caress it from the inside. his pubes pressing tightly against your core as he stills for a brief moment, breathing in through his teeth with a 'hsssss'. "hhhaaa-! god, you feel so good-" gripping your hips and guiding you to place your legs on the insides of his elbows, leaning closer to you, pressing deeper.. deeper. "i think i'm boutta bust-", he's managed to sneak another teasing jab at you before you slap his chest with a soft thud.
"don't you fucking da-Aah~!" you attempt to nag him before he has you folded into the mattress, held into a mating press with his larger and steady frame. his thick member fucks into you and you yelp, digging your nails into his shoulders. you're sensitive, extremely so. after cumming on his tongue thrice earlier, how couldn't you be? y
ou can feel his balls slapping against your ass. "s-good!!!!" your voice goes unheard, already cock drunk while your lover's fully concentrated on give you what the both of you so desperately want. he doesn't respond. he's moving so harshly the bed shakes and creaks. the headboard rhythmically bumping against the wall above you. his thrusts are far from how he usually fucks you though. it's like he's a different demon now.
it's like he's on a mission.
of course he is. he's out to breed you, remember?
with every thrust, every roll of his hips, you can feel he's been holding this back. how he never asked to take you without a condom on, always waiting for you to speak up first. he's savoring it. sweat drips from his curly black hair and down to your chest, naked bodies writhing on the clean sheets of your bed.
it'll no longer be clean when he's done with you.
"i fuckin' love you," he mumbles against your neck, licking a line up to your ear and he whispers hotly, "i love fuckin' you. yer cunt's droolin' fer me, bunny. want that baby so badly?" his voice grows hot against your neck but then you feel his hand snake between the both of you, pinching and rubbing your clit until you're tightening around him even more. "ye-yes," you whimper quietly, meeting his emerald eyes before he rubs faster, FASTER. "remember what I asked, sweetie? i need you to scream. need the neighbors t'hear y--" "fuck-yes!! put a baby in me togame please, oh fucking PLEASE..!!" you scream and beg, earning a satisfied togame.
"that's my girl," he coos, rubbing your clit and thrusting into you deeper and harder, his fat tip pressing kisses on your cervix.
with the mixed sensation of your pussy clenching around him and his throbbing length buried inside you, he feels like he's about to-
"c-cum.. I'm gonna fuckin' cum. where d'ya want me, baby?" he says between thrusts. he stops rubbing your clit for a moment to spit on his hand to rub you again. "fuckin' scream for me."
"inside! cum inside me please!" you do as you're told. he's rolling your clit between his thumb and forefinger to coax out another reaction from you. his eyes never leaving your sweating and writhing form. "l-look at me when I'm cumming-filling this tight pussy up-- put that baby in y-" his thrusts grow sharper, sloppier, you keep your eyes trained onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders. "sh-it!! I love you-uughh!" a groan escapes his lips as he fills you for the first time. his hand stills on your clit while he's steadily sheathed inside you, spilling and throbbing. the warmth is addicting. you follow suit, squirting and tightening around his thick length, back arching from the bed. you tremble underneath him while you both come down from your high.
with a sigh, he barely holds his weight up on his elbows, hovering over you. he leans down to press a loving, sweaty kiss on your lips though.
"happy?" he asks, still breathless.
the brightest of smiles paint your lips before you respond. "let's do that again." "idiot." ♡⋆˙
a/n: hhehegreehhehe togame. send tweet. tysvm for reading through this and extra tysvm for anon ;v;
p.s: landlord fucking hates you and togame btw lol constant noise complaint after noise complaint. iykyk.
#wind breaker#windbreaker#nii satoru#satoru nii#jo togame#togame <3#togame jo#windbreaker x reader#jo togame x reader#togame x reader#togame smut#wind breaker smut#windbreaker smut#togame jo x reader#togame x you#bibi spicy asks#bibi spicy yaps#i love togame
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Car rides - Matt Sturniolo
Summary: in which y/n and Matt have sex in a car
Warnings: sex, oral (male!receiving), fingering, touching, cursing.. all that.
A/N: this is my second kinktober fanfic. Make sure to check out my first !!
You were craving chocolate, so thats why your boyfriend and you are now in his car. At first he didn’t want to go, but then you said something which caught his attention.
“Matt, can we please get chocolate?” You ask him, whining. He looks up at you, rolling his eyes.
“It’s getting too late, Doll.” He says, rejecting you.
“Baby please, I’ll give you head after..”
Thats where you went wrong. Because now, you’re in the backseat of his car, in between his legs as loud moans escape his lips. You’re giving him head, the best head he will ever experience. His hand is moving through your hair as his other hand is covering his eyes. You can feel him getting closer to the edge, so you decide to edge him a bit by pulling back. A whine escapes his lips at the loss of contact.
“Fuck- don’t stop.. y/n?” He says opening his eyes just to find you smirking up at him. You take off your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your red lace set, which Matt absolutely adores. Matt’s breath gets caught in his throat as he sees a faint outline of your tits through your bra, needing to touch you badly. His hand moves down to touch you, but you move away just in time.
“Not yet,” you start. “I need you to hold on f’me, can you do that?” You ask before hearing a desperate whimper leave his mouth as he nods.
You swirl your tongue around the tip of his extremely hard cock, hands on his thighs. “Fuck, just like that, good fuuuucking girl.” He moans out, grip on your hair tightening. You keep teasing him until both of you get enough, movements speeding up.
He won’t hang on for long. Everything is starting to get so much, the endless teasing, you in that specific outfit.. that all is enough to get him crazy.“Im gonna cum, im gonna cu-“ he repeats before shooting his cum down your throat. You swallow it all, extremely proud of your work.
Then with a sudden movement Matt pulls you into his lap, fingers trailing around on your ass. You don’t get the chance to even know what he’s doing or his fingers are already sliding through your wet folds. Your mouth falls open as you grip onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. This doesn’t make him stop. 2 fingers enter you, deep and hard. You try to control yourself, but that hope disappears when he uses his thumb to rub your clit.
“Jesus Christ— matt!” You moan out as you bounce on his fingers. The pleasure is too good to be true, it’s almost too much.
Matt goes on for that a while, making you finish around 4 times before pulling you onto his, now hard, dick. It only takes him a second before he’s deep inside of you.
As he lets you adjust to him his hands are all over you, touching your tits, ass and of course your thighs.
He’s always been gentle with you during sex, even at the beginning of your relationship. He’s never been the type to just run off after the sex, unlike the last boyfriends you’ve had. All of them had their ways, but all those ways were not how you wanted to end up, but matt, matt was different. He was caring.
You get closer to your release within seconds and so does he. Both of you are lost in the pleasure to realize its almost 5 am, but are you supposed to care? Matt finishes first, not even a second after that you do too.
“Fu-uck.. matt!” You cry out as your orgasm hits you. You fall into his arms as the pleasure fades, only leaving you breathless. Matt’s hands trace slow circles on your lower back.
“Calm down.. deep breaths, Doll. That was fucking amazing.” He says, cupping your face with his hands before kissing you deeply. You melt into him before plopping back in the passenger seat, giving him space to drive back home.
/////
KINKTOBER FANFIC 2!
Hope yall loved this one, lmk!!🫶🏻
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#smut#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x you#matt x reader#matt smut#sturniolo smut#my fic#fiction#sexy mf
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lottie what kinks do u think Leon has lawl 😝
cw: x fem!reader hehe, 400+ wc
i totally didn’t write this during a party what…</3 sorry for any typos cora um i only did it for ID, vendetta, and DI Leon
INFINITE DARKNESS
Okay I can see him coming home with multiple bags of lingerie for his lover, letting you put on a mini fashion show for him. Do a little twirl for him, he’ll have to readjust the bulge in his pants before reaching for you and telling you how fucking pretty you are.
“There’s my perfect girl…so beautiful.” His hands caress your sides, his pupils dilating as he admires you up closely.
Um…he’d be into some light impact play.
Leon would stay fully clothed and put you across his lap, spanking you and massaging your ass to feel how hot your skin gets from his smacks. Pushing your lacy panties to the side to finger you, he’d coo over how wet you get from being spanked. He wouldn’t even have to fuck you or anything, he’d be satisfied just from feeling you jolt around on his lap and feel a high from how speechless you get from having only two of his fingers curling inside you
VENDETTA
His mental state is crumbling and he feels like all his choices are wrong, so I think he’d get turned on by being controlled in bed. Wrap your hands around his neck and cut off his breathing for a couple seconds while you make out and he’ll get rock hard in an instant, begging for you to do it again and again (but his begs sound more like demands honestly.) Um, aside from breath play I think he’d also be a fan of having his orgasms controlled too! Lazy days where you’re stroking his dick until he’s trembling and bucking his hips up into your touch, only to let go as soon as his grunts turn into pathetic moans.
“Fuuuuck, nonono…please.” He’d splutter out while trembling, looking down at the way thin strings of his precum snapped from your palms when you pulled away. “You’re so fucking mean….”
Kiss his sweaty forehead a couple times and he’d forgive you, though. And then his stomach would tense when you wrap your hand around him again to start the process over.
Also! Praise him and he’ll get all emotional. Like…what do you mean he’s doing good? He feels like he doesn’t deserve anything nice so ugh he’ll get sensitive so easily when you compliment him.
DEATH ISLAND
I think we can all collectively agree that he would have a breeding kink at this point in his life >ᴗ< He’s not getting any younger, so sex now has a purpose beyond just connecting with another soul and chasing pleasure together. So yeah he’d have you on your back day and night, stuffing you full as long as you’ll have him. And he’ll plug you up with his fingers after cumming in you so “it takes” (his words) and he’ll get all smiley when you whine and twitch from the aftermath.
Body worship would definitely be high on his list too, both receiving and giving. He’d kiss and caress you all over until no part is left untouched, and honestly dating him in the long run would leave you less susceptible to insecurities because he’s always whispering words of worship to you. He never gets used to the electrifying sensation when you return the favor and plant your lips against his happy trail and inner thighs.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x fem reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#꒰ ʚɞ┊letter to. . . cora꒱
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