#if I had longer than an hour I could go alone and just sit in the corner drawing the cats

[hvnyrt]

Request: Jason is surprisingly affectionate in private

JASON TOOD X GN! READER

SUMMARY: You're tired, Jason takes care of you

WARNINGS: None, enjoy!

WC: 1.4k 

The door to your apartment closed softly behind you as you stepped inside, your body feeling heavy with the weight of the day. Gotham’s chaos had seeped into everything—into your bones, into your mind. You were physically and emotionally drained, barely able to summon the energy to hang your coat or kick off your boots. The city had a way of exhausting you, of leaving you with nothing to give. It had been one of those weeks—long hours, too much stress, too many things left undone.

But when you entered your living room, you didn’t expect to find him here. Jason Todd. You didn’t even know he was coming over.

He was sprawled out on your couch, leaning back with one leg draped over the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at his phone. There was a mug of coffee on the table in front of him, untouched, cooling. The lights were low, casting a soft glow that made the apartment feel more like a refuge than the outside world ever could.

You paused for a moment, not wanting to disturb him—until you noticed the way his posture changed when he heard you enter. His eyes flicked up from his phone, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, quickly replaced by something softer, more concerned.

"Long day?" he asked, his voice quiet, low, the usual edge replaced by a gentler tone.

You nodded, dropping your things in the entryway with a tired sigh. “It’s been a week,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes. “I’m... exhausted.”

Jason didn’t respond right away. He just looked you over, his eyes narrowing slightly as he registered the exhaustion on your face, the way your shoulders sagged in defeat. He was used to seeing people at their worst, but he wasn’t used to seeing you like this. Not like this.

“Come here,” he said, his voice no longer playful but soft, almost commanding in the way he said it.

You glanced at him, too tired to argue, and slowly made your way over to the couch. Jason shifted, sitting up straighter, making space beside him. Without saying anything, he reached out and pulled your legs onto his lap, arranging them carefully like he was afraid you might pull away, like he was trying to be gentle with you in a way he wasn’t always.

“Sit,” he repeated, this time with a soft insistence, as if his only goal was to make sure you found some comfort.

You hesitated for only a moment before sitting down next to him, sinking into the couch. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile before grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over both of you. The weight of it was comforting, the fabric soft and warm. His arm naturally settled around your shoulders, pulling you closer, a silent invitation to rest against him.

"You’re too stubborn," he muttered, more to himself than to you, but the words were gentle, like a small reprimand for not taking better care of yourself. His fingers rubbed at the back of your neck, slow and soothing. "You push yourself too hard. You need to slow down."

You leaned your head against his chest, letting out a soft breath, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. The exhaustion was still there, but now it felt distant. For the first time all day, you didn’t feel like you had to be on alert. With him beside you, the weight of everything seemed lighter.

“I don’t know how to stop sometimes,” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I just keep going. Even when I’m running on empty.”

Jason didn’t say anything for a while. Instead, his hand moved from your neck to your back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles as if trying to ease away the tension that had built up over the course of the week. You could feel the softness in his touch, the way he wasn’t rushing to do anything—just being present.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” His words were quiet but firm. "Let me take care of you for once. Let me help."

You swallowed, your throat tight at the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. It wasn’t often that Jason opened up like this. He had walls, thick and impenetrable, built from years of hurt. But tonight, he seemed to be letting those walls fall, just a little.

His hand slid down your arm, pulling you even closer to him, until your head was tucked under his chin. The rhythm of his breath steadied yours, and you felt something in your chest—something warm and soft—begin to unfold.

“You’re always the one taking care of everyone else,” Jason said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you deserve to be taken care of too. I’m not going anywhere. Let me help.”

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the tightness that had settled in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that had accompanied the last few days. But his touch, the heat of his body against yours, seemed to make the anxiety fade away, leaving only calm in its wake.

“Thank you,” you murmured, not sure if you were thanking him for the moment of peace, or for his willingness to show up when you least expected it. But the gratitude was there, unspoken but felt all the same.

Jason didn’t respond. Instead, he reached over and grabbed your tea mug from the side table, gently pressing it into your hands. “Drink. It’ll help you relax.”

You took the mug, the warmth of the tea seeping into your cold hands. You sipped it slowly, savoring the way it warmed you from the inside. Jason sat quietly beside you, his fingers still tracing small, comforting patterns on your arm as he watched you. There was no rush, no pressure to talk, to be anything other than what you were in that moment. He was giving you space to breathe, to let go.

As the tea worked its magic, you felt the tension begin to melt away. Your eyelids grew heavy, your body sinking deeper into the couch as Jason adjusted, his body angling closer to yours.

“Lie down,” he said softly, shifting you slightly so you were resting more comfortably on the couch. “You need sleep. You need to rest.”

You didn’t argue. It was too much to argue with him when you felt this good—when his care wrapped around you like a blanket, giving you the comfort you’d been lacking.

He rearranged the pillows behind your head, making sure you were propped up just enough. His hand was never far from you, always resting somewhere on your body, as though he couldn’t quite stop touching you. He wasn’t smothering you, though. It was a subtle, gentle thing—just enough to reassure you that he was there.

You closed your eyes, your body relaxed in a way you hadn’t felt in days. The weight of the world was slowly lifting, and with Jason beside you, you felt safe.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’ll be here. Just sleep.”

You nodded, too tired to say anything more. His hand shifted again, this time moving to your cheek, brushing a stray hair away as he gently cupped your face in his palm. His thumb traced over your skin, soft and slow, and for a moment, it felt like he was taking in every detail of you—every part of you that had been worn down, that needed healing.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Jason leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender, almost reverent, and when he pulled away, you could feel the gentle brush of his breath against your skin.

“Sleep,” he whispered again, the words a soothing balm.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you let yourself drift into sleep, the warmth of Jason’s presence grounding you, keeping you safe in the quiet moments. As you drifted off, you could still feel the steady rhythm of his hand on your back, the softness in his touch, the care he was offering so freely. You didn’t need to say anything more. Tonight, Jason had given you what you needed most: peace, tenderness, and a reminder that you weren’t alone.

[tbhyknow]

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 !

summary, after overworking yourself pass your usual hours to handling your unit and preparing for a big event, you ended up sleeping while hanging out with them.

featuring, mayoi ayase, arashi nakurami && ibara saegusa w/ gender-neutral!reader (romantic, separate)

tags, established relationship, all fluff no angst, headcanons, ooc

notice, first enstars post yippie 🎉 taking a break from grinding so much for the spider halloween event.. reader is a producer if it wasn't obvious.. highkey ooc?? esp for ibara, as much as i love him, i suck at writing characters like him huhu

— m. ayase

the two of you were baking in the dorm's kitchen when you suddenly passed out. just a few hours ago, you had proposed to mayoi to spend the day off with each other and decided baking something would be nice.

after all, after a hectic week of working yourself to the bone, what's a better way to spend the day than hanging out with your beloved boyfriend?

mayoi, at first, was cautious. he had been watching you veryy closely (and he's absolutely sorry-not-sorry for doing that) for pasy few days and noticed your signs of exhaustion. but still, he couldn't resist accepting your date idea when you begged him so desperately.

mayoi stared down at the mixture he's been mixing for a couple minutes, his brow furrowed in uncertainty. is he 100% sure this is how it's supposed to look?

then, mayoi turned around to face you. "uhmm... (name), could you— eek!" just as he did, he had witness your body collapse, hitting the floor with an extremely loud and audible thud that rang through the kitchen like a big bang. mayoi's face turned pale as he immediately ran up to your spot and kneeled down, checking you thoroughly.

his hands were stained with cookie batter, but he couldn't care less at this point and rolled you on your back. he put your head on his lap, pushing your hair out of your face to only be greeted by your peaceful, sleeping expression. he carefully felt your pulse on your neck and immediately let out a sigh of relief when he felt soft thumping under the pads of his fingers.

mayoi sighed, "thank god... you're just unconscious, i don't know what i would've done if you..." he stared down at you again, caressing your cheek. at any other situation, he would've found your sleeping face cute, but the guilt of agreeing to do this with you even when you're exhausted was chewing him up.

he immediately got cleaning up the mess you two made and hurried you to the infirmary. after the nurse was done checking you and confirming it was just exhaustion and stress and not anything serious, he was left alone to sit by your side and wait for you to wake up.

throughout it all... mayoi was nervous. the intrusive thoughts are coming to his head, making up scenarios that your condition became serious and had put you in a coma... he knew it wasn't going to happen, but the thought terrified him still.

when you woke up, mayoi immediately got on his hands and knees and apologized to you with genuine tears. it's gonna take a while for him to calm down...

"i-i'm sorry! i was aware you were overworked a-and yet i still made you bake w-with me! i'm an awful and pathetic person, i don't deserve your forgiveness!"

"m-mayoi, i said it's fine... c'mon, get up.."

— a. narukami

arashi finally got a day off from idol work and modelling, so she decided it would be fun to tag you along for shopping! it's been so long since she has been able to do some retail therapy, but it's much more longer since the two of you gotten on a date and it was starting to irritate her.

even if you were tired from handling your unit and trying to keep them out of trouble or paying the consequences of their stupid decisions, you still accepted the offer because you missed her a lot as well! you can handle to stay awake for a couple more hours, right?

... right?

arashi finished zipping up the dress and after doing a couple of practice twirls, she stepped out of the dressing room in an elegant and stylish manner fitting for the outfit she's trying on.

"(name), darling, what do you think? should i get it or not?" she spun around once more, showing off a full 360 of her look. when she didn't hear your voice praising her or doing commentary, she took a good look of your slumping figure and noticed that you had fallen asleep.

"oh dear," she chuckled, finding the way your head keeps flicking whenever you hunched too far cute. she sighed and shook her head, "you really should know better than overworking yourself, whatever should i do with you?" then, she walked up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, "come on, let's go home and do a spa day instead!"

when you grumbled something akin to a protest, she merely tutted and kissed your forehead. "mhm, whatever you say, dear. let me change back first and we'll head home, okay?"

"mmmgh... okay.."

true to her words, when you two arrived back, she immediately began setting the things up and prepared all the necessities for a spa day.

facemask? check. her favorite scented candles? check. the two of you in fluffy white robes, sipping on some tea with your feet deep in a bucket of warm water and epsom salt and your favorite drama playing on the tv? check, check and check.

arashi made sure your sitting arrangement is as comfortable ss possible, and frequently checked on you to see if you're in deep sleep. once the time is up, she'll gently shook you awake to let you know and cleaned up the place before bringing you down on the couch for a cuddle.

"i love you, (name), so please don't do that again, okay? i won't scold you right now since you need to rest more, but next time know your limits please. overworking is bad for your health."

— i. saegusa

it was rare for ibara to come back home for a day off. apparently, he was urged by his unit members to take a break and spend some time with his lover aka you, especially since the event is over now, and he had finished months worth of work in one sight.

although, it didn't take the rest of eden long to convince him to go home as he was already prepared to come back to your arms. after all, distance brings fondness and oh does he yearns for you.

he arrived at your apartment in a timely mannera and while his appearance is poised as usual, there was a slight element in his body language that told you he hurried his way back. he never been this ipatient.

there was time to go out for a date, but the two of you lacked the energy to even step out and interact with the world after a hellish week. ibara came rushing to you and spooning you in his arms.

"— it was hard to pull in the reigns on that problem child, but thankfully he seemed to understand and followed my instructions this time around... oh, i'll surely miss that part of him now that this event is over." ibara sighed, playing with a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers.

then, he shook his head, choosing to forget about his stressful week and focused on you now. this is the limited times he's able to see you outside of work and he didn't want to talk your ear off about every miniscule thing that has happened the previous days. he wanted to focus on you and you only for now.

"moving on. what about you, my dear? anything interesting happened to you?" he asked, waiting for an answer. he waited, and waited, assuming your silence was just you thinking about what to say. yet you still continue to be silent, confusing him and worrying him slightly.

"(name) dear?" he looked down at your face and relaxed immediately, making a sound of acknowledgement as he found you fast asleep in his arms. he chuckled, shaking his head gently. he said nothing more and joined you in your sleep.

even if the whole conversation he had with you was mostly one-sided, he's still glad he could spend his time with you. when you woke up from your nap, he had put a blanket over you and let you rest on the couch.

he even went out of his way to prepare food for the two of you, just in case you woke up hungry. the table was set nicer and better than you could ever done, and the food looked and smelled like heaven.

"hm? you're finally awake, i see. come, i've prepared us dinner, won't you join me? then, after this, let's talk some more. you still haven't told me how your week went, after all."

notice, leave a like, comment or reblog if you liked the hcs! it helps me a lot, ty^^

[marcelloshdz]

saturday night surprise

summary: after a long week of hardly getting to see each other, you surprise marcello at snl. requested by anonymous.

coming home to an empty house, particularly after a rough day, was always the worst ending. and it was your least favorite part about being in a relationship with someone who’s work schedule was so different than yours. 

this week was an exceptionally busy week for marcello. starting the previous sunday, leading into an off week from snl, he had a few stand up shows in new york and surrounding areas. he was gone for a couple of days, then was back in the city for other promotional stuff; guest spots on a few talk shows, filming commercials, and other things. by the time that was all said and done, it was monday again, and he was getting ready to go back to 30 rock to start working on the next snl episode back. 

it was hard finding time to spend with each other, because you were busy with work too. granted your job didn’t take you all over the place, you still had long work days, that sometimes lasted you anywhere from 10 to 12 hours. most nights, you just wanted to come home to your boyfriend and lounge on the couch with junk food and tv shows. but with his increasing popularity, he was spread thin. 

“how was your day?” marcello asked to you over facetime. he was taking a break between sketch rehearsals to eat and to take some time to talk with you.

“okay. work was busy, so it went by pretty fast. i’m just exhausted.” you let out a loud sigh. “i just wish you were here so we could spend the night together. you know i always sleep better when you’re with me.”

“i know, baby. i’m sorry. i wish i was home too, but there have been a ton of rewrites and rehearsals have been taking extra long this week. at least tomorrow is show day, and ill be back with you on sunday. i still hate that you’re gonna miss the show.” he pouted. 

“me too. i just have a lot of work i have to finished before monday.” you sighed. “but sunday, we’re both free, and will have a true day of rest.”

“finally. i’ve missed you.” he sighed. 

“i’ve missed you too.” you and marcello talked for a little while longer before he had to get back to rehearsal. you shared your good nights and i love yous, and hung up. you finished your dinner before moving to your bed. 

the next night was saturday, and you and marcello had the briefest of exchanges before you went your separate ways for the day. you had some errands to tend to, and you knew he’d be gone to work by the time you were finished. upon your return home, you got started on the projects and paperwork you needed to finish for your job, returned some emails and sat through a couple meetings. as you were wrapping up, you checked the time and saw that it was getting close to 11:30. 

deciding you didn’t want to sit home alone all night, you got ready and headed out to 30 rock. you arrived at the nbc studios, and went in. luckily, you were on marcello’s guest list, and they let you in and led you upstairs. you successfully evaded other snl cast members, writers, and producers, and followed the motion into the audience before the show started.

you took your seat on the lower level, at the end of the row. the crew was bustling around as they were getting ready for the show to start. the stage was finally set for the cold open, and the show began. 

the first couple of sketches went by, and you’d been laughing the whole time. as the show went on, the sets changed, and the casts changed in and out of costumes, you’d successfully made it through half the show without being noticed. 

you watched as marcello took the stage, getting ready for the next sketch. he was standing with a couple other cast members when he turned in your direction. you watched as his eyes scanned the crowd, finally landing on you. you watched as the widest smile spread across his face, and the lightest tinge of pink flushed to his cheeks. he shot you a wink before the show came back from commercial. 

you laughed throughout the entire sketch, and marcello kept shooting glances in your direction just to make sure you were enjoying it. once it ended, marcello walked off the stage, into the crowd, and took your hand in his, pulling you up from your chair. he led you through winding hallways before returning back to quick change area.

once you were well hidden away from the cast and crew, marcello took your face in his hands and pressed a hard kiss to your lips. 

“what are you doing here?! i thought you couldn’t get away from work?” he asked, out of breath when he separated his lips from yours. 

“i finished early, and i missed you too much to spend another night without you.” you said, kissing him again. 

“i’m so happy you’re here.” he said softly, smiling at you.

“me too.”

marcello wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you back to his dressing room. the show was almost over, and he wasn’t in the last sketch, you the two of you hung out and watched the end of the episode until he had to be back onstage for goodnights. afterwards, once it was time to leave, the two of you headed home, blissfully anticipating finally getting to spend the night together. once you got back home, you both began to wind down and get ready for bed.

you were laying down in bed, watching marcello move around the room until he finally joined you under the covers. he quickly came to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and peppering your skin with kisses, starting on your arm, trailing up to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, then finally meeting your lips.

“i love you.” he said softly, resting his forehead.

“i love you.” you repeated. you shared another kiss before finally turning the lights out and going to bed. the two of you slept better than you had in weeks, knowing that you didn’t have to get up the next morning, and could finally just be with each other.

[ghostickle]

Booked a reservation at a cat cafe I’ve wanted to go to since they first announced they were building it years ago >:)

[hannyoontify]

the way you said hello - kim mingyu

member | executive chef!mingyu x reader (ft. jeonghan & seungkwan)

genre | (implied) soulmates!au, meet cute, strangers to lovers au, fluff, (angst if you rlly rlly rlly squint)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | after a disastrous blind date, the night takes an unexpected turn when the restaurant’s handsome owner, mingyu, steps in. what starts as an act of kindness quickly becomes something more as sparks fly over a chance meeting

warnings | cursing, lowk kinda suggestive if you squint, kissing, one (1) mention of a knife, mentions of mingyu having previous injuries sustained from his occupation, there is a SIGNIFICANT time skip at the end but i don't specify how much LMAO that's up to ygs discretion

notes | requested by anon! i'm so sorry if this wasn't the direction you wanted it to go in 😭 i swear i tried my best! lowk don't know if i like this or not but i really liked the bickering between oc n seunghan NOT PROOFREAD

this can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to this mingyu fic!

You anxiously bounced your leg under the table, gently gnawing on your bottom lip as you glanced around the fancy restaurant. Across from you, the chair in front of you had now been empty for an awfully long time now and something told you that your blind date had ditched, leaving you with the incredibly overwhelming and taxing bill.

Fuck.

You rested your head in your hands and let out a tired sigh. There was no way this was happening.

As you reached for your wallet, you flagged down a nearby waiter to ask for the bill. He nodded at your request and you let out what seemed to the umpteenth sigh of that night. While waiting for the bill to reach your table, you began rearranging the leftover peas on your porcelain plate.

“Didn’t know we had a Picasso in the house.” An unfamiliar voice remarked next to you. 

You yelped in surprise and whipped around to see a tall, handsome young man peering over your shoulder with an amused smile. He was in a black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his prominent forearm muscles, tucked into a pair of dark trousers. “That’s very impressive… is that a self-portrait?”

You snorted in disbelief, your shoulders shaking as you let out a quiet laugh. “No, it’s supposed to be my date. Too bad they left before I could remember what they looked like.”

The mysterious man scrunched up his handsome face, as if to say ‘Ouch’. “Do you mind if I—?” He gestured towards the empty seat in front of you and you nodded.

“Go ahead. That seat’s going to be empty for the rest of the night anyways.” You let out a bitter laugh. He gave you a sympathetic smile and situated himself in front of you with an arm outstretched reaching over the table.

“Kim Mingyu. I’m the owner and executive chef of this restaurant. I received a report that there was an attractive young person who was left on their lonesome after their date mysteriously disappeared.” The man, Mingyu, tilted his head. “Didn’t think said person was going to be this attractive though.”

You blushed at his compliment as you shook his hand. “[Name]. Not sure who snitched on me, though I’m glad to have new company.”

“Are you… on your way out now? Since your date is gone?”

“Yes, I’m just waiting for the bill.”

Mingyu waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

After spilling coffee on your blouse this morning and running 30 minutes late for work, you were more than positive that the day was going to end in disaster. The disappearance of your blind date following a very long, tiring day at work only confirmed those suspicions. However, it seemed like that the goddess of luck was no longer hellbent on making your life a living disaster with the way the stranger sitting across from you managed to douse out the fire that had been burning within you for the past few hours with a single smile.

“I’m afraid I’m not. But if you feel pressured or aren’t comfortable with it, no worries!” Mingyu said lightheartedly. 

“Oh my God,” You ran a tired hand through your face and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. “You literally just saved me from having the worst day ever. I was preparing myself to break down into tears once I received the check. Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

He smiled at your words. “Of course, just doing my daily random act of kindness for a stranger. Although…” He trailed off and you quirked an inquisitive brow at him.

“Although?” You asked.

“Although… would it appall you if I said it was my way of shooting my shot?” Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. His eyes nervously darted back and forth between your face and the half-eaten plate in front of him, left by your crappy blind date who was honestly, no longer in your realm of attention. Not when Mingyu was in front of you. 

Shooting his shot? You felt your cheeks burn at a temperature similar to the candle perched on a candelabra on your table at his words and you coughed before fumbling to find the right words.

“I mean… I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Since you’re my savior tonight and all…” Your voice faltered and Mingyu beamed.

“That’s great! Here’s my business card, if you ever want to contact me.” He pulled out a crisp card and handed it to you as he got up from the chair. “Well, I must be getting on my way now. I’d love to stay and chat but I have big boss duties to do.”

Mingyu tipped an imaginary top hat towards your direction. You smiled. “It was nice meeting you, [Name].”

“It was nice meeting you too, Mingyu. I’ll contact you,” You waved his business card and he nodded.

“I’ll be looking forward to it. Bye, [Name].”

And with that he was gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his perfume and the fluttering of your heart.

“Just call him!!” Your best friend urged you. He was sitting on the other end of the sofa, munching on a bag of chips as he watched you metaphorically rip your hair out over the business card you received from Mingyu a week ago.

“It’s not that simple, Seungkwan! What if he hates me now because it took me so long to contact him? I bet he’s forgotten about me at this point.” You pouted and continued to stare at the worn, but still elaborate cardstock in your hands.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re overthinking this entire thing. Listen to me,” He paused to fix his posture to face you. “He gave you the business card, right?”

You nodded.

“Did he ask for your number?”

You shook your head.

“Did he receive any kind of contact information from you?”

You shook your head again.

“But he gave you his business card? [Name], he literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!” 

Seungkwan let out a frustrated yell and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. “I swear, you have the IQ of Jeonghan’s pet rock sometimes.”

“Hey! Doljjong is very intelligent!” Your other best friend yelled from the kitchen. “He has really good hearing too, so don’t insult him like that or else you’ll be dealing with me.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and you laughed as Jeonghan came out into the living room to give his own two cents.

“But Seungkwan’s right. The entire fate of a whole new possible relationship with this mythical Kim Mingyu—”

“HE’S REAL. I SHOOK HIS HAND.”

“—is in your hands. Don’t blow it. Or else me and Seungkwan—”

“Seungkwan and I.” You corrected him.

“—will be—Okay, fuck you, grammar police—Will be taking this matter into our own hands so we no longer have to hear your bitching and whining.”

You let out a frustrated groan and threw down the business card that’s been putting you through pain and misery through the past week.

“God, he was literally perfect. I don’t wanna blow it and—”

“That’s what they said.”

“Jeonghan, I’m going to literally throw Doljjong into the bottom of Han River and you’re going to be joining him soon after if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Seungkwan burst into laughter and watched you and Jeonghan continue to argue back and forth.

“Forget it, it’s useless talking to a person who believes that a rock can be a pet.” You got up from your spot on the couch and reached for your phone. “I’m stepping out for some air. Lock the door if you leave before I come back.”

“See ya, don’t wanna be ya!” Jeonghan yelled from the living room as you left the house and you loudly groaned.

You loved both your best friends but they sometimes drove you absolutely insane.

The sky was dark but the countless lights from the skyscrapers and streetlights illuminated the Han River, making the surface twinkle and shine under the pale moonlight.

You were sitting on a lone bench, facing the river as you mindlessly fidgeted with Mingyu’s business card. The edges were fraying from the countless amount of times you’ve handled it between your fingertips, and you traced the black lettering of Mingyu’s name with your index finger as you silently sounded out every vowel and consonant of his name.

Seungkwan’s words rang in your head. ‘He literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!’

Like a switch was suddenly flipped inside you, you reached for your phone. The screen lit up and you pulled up a new message to type in the phone number that was written on the card in your hand. 

Without a single thought, you sent,

hey! it’s [name]!

Before you could even type the first letter of your follow-up text, the status of your message changed from ‘Delivered’ to ‘Read 21:24’ and you let out a gasp.

And then the loud, shrill ringing of your ringtone cut through the peaceful night air.

You gasped louder than before after seeing the caller ID, reaching to frantically turn off the ringer before answering the phone.

“He–hello?”

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu’s voice sounded crisp and clear on the other end of the line. You couldn’t see him, but you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “You almost had me thinking that you were ghosting me or something.”

You let out an apologetic groan. “I’m so sorry, Mingyu. I got in my head and kept putting it off. I swear it wasn’t personal…” 

Mingyu’s laugh was bright. “No worries! I assumed you had your hands full. Although, I did jump a little every time I received a text from anyone from the past week.” 

“Oh, man… I feel horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m telling you, don’t worry about it! Better late than never, right?” There was an awkward moment of silence before he spoke again. “What are you up to right now?”

You hummed and looked out at the tranquil water of the Han River reflecting the bright lights of the city. “Nothing much. I stepped out for a minute for some air. What about you?”

“Oh, really? I’m actually out for a walk too.” You swore you heard a second voice near you, echoing the words Mingyu was saying in your phone. “Turn around for me?”

You whipped around with the phone still pressed to your ear to see Mingyu standing behind the bench, a small smile playing on his lips. You ended the phone call.

“Mingyu?”

“‘Morning, sunshine,” He slid into the empty spot next to you and you scooched over to make more room for him. “What a way to run into the guy you’ve been ghosting, huh?”

You snorted at his greeting, ignoring the slight burn you felt in your cheeks from the nickname he had addressed you by. “I told you, it wasn’t intentional.”

Mingyu grinned. “I know. Just felt like teasing you.” 

“What are- what are you doing here though? Do you live in this area?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. I moved into that apartment complex not too long ago,” He pointed to a tall building on the other side of the river. “Has a killer night view. You should come over to check it out sometime.”

You choked on your spit, resulting in you barking out a short, panicked laugh. “Do you—-do you usually say these… these things to people?”

“No, not really. I’m not usually like this,” Mingyu looked over at you with a slight tilt in his head. The night breeze brushed his bangs across his forehead and you felt your breath falter at the way the closest streetlight illuminated his honey-like, gorgeous skin.There was a particular glint in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Pardon me if this is too brazen, but I’m only like this when I feel like I’ve met the one. My soulmate.”

Your breath was caught in your throat.

“Does it… usually work?” You choked out. Your face felt incredibly hot and your clammy hands were sticking to the bench.

Mingyu turned back to face the river and your stomach did an odd flip. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”

Oh God. You thought you were melting on the spot with the way he was looking at you. Mingyu was holding eye contact with such intensity, you physically couldn’t look away. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribcage and you decided you were going to sign yourself up for the upcoming Olympics, with the way your stomach was doing flips like an Olympic gymnast. Simone Biles had nothing on whatever routine was going on inside you right now.

“… I’d give it a solid 8 out of 10.” You gave him the most nonchalant shrug you could afford, knowing that there were enough butterflies in your stomach to start a butterfly conservatory. Mingyu looked at you as if he was surprised by the score.

“Really? What would I have to do to win back the last two points?”

You gave him a pointed look, and the next words to leave your mouth almost sent you into cardiac arrest. “Hmm… live up to your words? I guess?”

And the smile Mingyu gave you in that moment was the brightest one of all. His entire being seemed to glow in ecstasy, glowing brighter than the streetlights as he looked at you with a suggestive glint in his eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Mingyu?” You called from the living room. Mingyu didn’t respond and the only thing you heard from the kitchen was the clattering of plates and silverware. “Babe?”

Pushing yourself off the couch with a quiet groan, you padded over to the kitchen where your fiancé was busying himself with preparing dinner. He was hunched over the counter, his hands and trusty knife busy at work as he chopped away on his chopping block. Careful not to startle him when he had a knife in his hand, you snuck your arms around Mingyu’s torso and peered over his shoulder to watch him work his magic.

“Watcha doing?” You asked sweetly. Mingyu acknowledged your presence with a short peck on your forehead.

“Hi, baby.” His voice was rough and the sound sent shivers down your spine. “Preparing to feed you. Why?”

You hummed and nuzzled your face into Mingyu’s back. He smelled like a mix of spices, sweat, and his faint woody cologne permeated your senses. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”

Mingyu set down his knife and turned around to face you, his back resting against the marble counter with his hands resting comfortably at your waist.

“What’s with the sudden question?” He quirked a well-groomed brow at you and you smiled.

“Nothing… I just read a blog about soulmates and I was curious about whether you thought they were real,” Your fingers danced along Mingyu’s strong, muscular forearms, your fingertips lightly tracing all the old scars and burn marks that signified his experience and years spent working to master his craft. You repeated your original question again. “So… do you think we’re soulmates?”

Mingyu leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I don’t think so, love. I know so.”

“Really?” Your eyes brightened at his words and he nodded.

“Mhm. I knew from the moment I saw you playing with those leftover peas on your plate that I was going to marry you,” Mingyu leaned in again, nuzzling his nose against yours. You giggled. “Sometimes, I have dreams where I knew you in another life. But those dreams felt so… real. Like they’re fragments of memories from a past I can’t recall.”

“Are we married in those dreams too?” 

“Mhm. We were happily married, just like we’re going to be.” Mingyu captured your lips with his, sighing gently as your fingers combed through his dark hair. 

“I love you, Mingyu.” You whispered against his lips, like a secret only meant for the two of you to know. Something to be taken and hidden away, kept a secret in the deepest depths of the earth. A secret so sacred, it can only be cherished in the deepest, darkest places so that no one else can know.

“I love you too, [Name],” Mingyu’s love confession was more bold. Something he uttered with purpose and intention. He wanted the entire universe to know that he was yours. His heart belonged to you. He was going to love you loudly and boldly. “I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

a/n: this is a big personal FUCK YOU to writer's block AHGJSJD i somehow managed to push through and finish this 😭 (it was at 300 words when i started today) albeit it was on my phone, in the dark, at 1 in the morning BUT I FINISHED IT. n now my insomnia's back LMAOO

[pucksandpower]

Insomniac

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: you’re tired of falling asleep in an empty bed due to your workaholic husband’s sleepless nights

Based on this request

You rub your eyes and blink a few times, adjusting to the soft glow of the lamp on the end table as you lift your head from the couch cushion.

2:17 AM.

Again.

This makes the fifth night in a row that you’ve fallen asleep alone on the living room sofa, having given up on the hope of Toto joining you in your shared bed upstairs. The cashmere blanket wrapped around your legs does little to ward off the chill of the night, and you suppress a shiver as you sit up.

With a sigh, you slide out from under the afghan, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet as you quietly make your way out of the living room and down the hall. The sliver of light peeking out from underneath the closed door of the study confirms your suspicions — Toto is still awake, still working at this ungodly hour.

Ever since the news broke that Lewis would be leaving Mercedes for Ferrari at the end of the season, Toto has been unable to relax. He barely sleeps, poring over stats and projections deep into the night as he tries in vain to figure out how to move forward.

You know he feels responsible — for building the team into what it is, for leading it to seven constructors’ titles, for creating an environment where Lewis could thrive. Letting him go feels like a monumental failure in Toto’s eyes, even though rationally there was nothing else to be done. Lewis’ mind was made up.

But knowing how reasonable a decision it was does nothing to quiet the ceaseless chatter of Toto’s anxious thoughts. He second guesses himself constantly, running through hypotheticals and what-ifs over and over.

What if he had offered more money? More freedom? What if he had anticipated Lewis’ wandering eyes and somehow convinced him to stay? But you know better than anyone that his hands were tied — Mercedes’ board of directors simply would not cooperate with his suggestions.

You understand Toto’s anguish, but his sleepless agonizing is starting to take a toll. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced than ever, and the weight of his responsibilities hangs heavily from his slumped shoulders. His embraces are no longer as warm, his kisses no longer as tender. He retreats into his own head, consumed by doubts and regrets, and you feel him slipping away day by day.

Enough is enough, you decide. If Toto won’t take care of himself, then you will have to take matters into your own hands.

You tiptoe to the kitchen and quietly replace Toto’s usual late-night dark roast with decaf. It won’t stop him from working, but at least it won’t add fuel to the fire of his racing thoughts.

After preparing for bed yourself, you head down the hall, suppressing a shiver as your bare feet meet the cool wood floors. Pausing outside the study door, you turn the thermostat down just a couple degrees. It’s a subtle change, but you know Toto will notice, and it just might make him long for the warmth of your shared bed.

Taking a breath, you gently rap your knuckles against the door and let yourself in. Toto is exactly where you expected, hunched over his desk with his brows furrowed, staring fixedly at his laptop screen.

“Hey,” you say softly so as not to startle him. “It’s getting pretty late, I’m going to head to bed.”

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs absently, barely glancing up.

You stifle a yawn, stretching your arms over your head. “Are you coming?” You ask hopefully.

“In a bit,” Toto mumbles. “I just need to finish this analysis.”

You sigh, walking over to him and sliding your arms around his shoulders. “Toto, please,” you plead, nuzzling into his neck. “Come to bed. You need to rest.”

He reaches up to give your hand a quick, distracted pat. “Soon, liebling. I promise.”

Accepting that you won’t sway him now, you kiss his stubbly cheek and head for the door. “Don’t stay up too much longer,” you implore, then make your way back down the hall.

Once in your bedroom, you go through your regular bedtime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face. But instead of climbing into your big empty bed, you find yourself wandering further down the hall to the nursery.

Pushing open the door, you pause to gaze at your sleeping infant daughter in her crib, her little chest rising and falling with soft even breaths. The corner of the room holds a cozy cushioned rocking chair, and you sink down into it with a yawn, the lateness of the hour finally catching up to you. Your eyes drift closed as you let the gentle motion lull you towards sleep.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you feel strong arms sliding under your knees and behind your back, lifting you from the chair. You let out a soft murmur, still more asleep than awake, as Toto carries you from the nursery. Resting your head against his chest, you breathe in his familiar scent as he brings you down the hall to your bedroom.

Gently, he lays you down on your bed, brushing a wisp of hair back from your face as he pulls the covers up around you. Through bleary eyes, you see him cross to the dresser and begin shedding his clothes, swapping his button-down and slacks for a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Finally, he climbs in beside you with a weary sigh, and you immediately nestle against him, seeking his warmth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his arms encircle you.

You lift your head to meet his tired blue eyes. “It’s okay,” you murmur. “I know this has been hard for you.”

He shakes his head slightly. “That’s no excuse. You shouldn’t have to deal with my restlessness.”

You reach up to cup his cheek. “We’re in this together, remember?” You remind him gently. “For better or worse.”

The corners of his mouth twitch in a hint of a smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if it’s come up,” you tease.

He gives you a playful little squeeze. “Well I do. So much.” His voice grows more serious then. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m thankful for you every day.”

You grin and snuggle impossibly closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Wolff.”

His low chuckle rumbles pleasantly against your cheek. “I mean it though. You’re my rock. My safe place. With everything going on ...” He trails off with a heavy exhale.

Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers through his and give a supportive squeeze. “I know. But it’s going to be okay. Mercedes will find their way again, with you leading the charge. You’re the heart and soul of this team, Toto. You brought them this far, and you’ll bring them even further.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” he admits softly. “I just hope I can live up to it.”

“You will,” you say without hesitation. “You’re the most driven, passionate person I know. Your commitment is unmatched. If anyone can navigate these changes, it’s you.”

Toto is quiet for a moment, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says finally. “Just … thank you. For believing in me. For supporting me. For loving me, even when I’m being a stubborn arschloch.”

You grin. “Well, you’re my stubborn arschloch. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He laughs then, the sound warm and rich, and you feel some of the tension leave his body.

“No more working until sunrise though, okay?” You implore, threading your fingers through his hair. “You need to take care of yourself too.”

He nods, eyes shining with affection. “Okay. I promise.”

Satisfied, you nestle against his chest once more, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His lips find the top of your head in a tender kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So very much.”

You smile softly, already drifting towards sleep in the safety of his arms.

“I love you too,” you whisper. And with a contented sigh, you surrender to the pull of peaceful slumber, the two of you wrapped up in each other as you should be.

No more empty beds or sleepless nights. Just the comforting nearness of the man you love.

Your partner.

Your home.

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[steddiewithachance]

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.

[lolahauri]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's Your Sex I Can Smell

Ship: Ticci Toby/Reader

Type: GN/M, Explicit Smut, Part 1/3. (MDNI)

Contains: Invasion of Privacy, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Panty Raid, Underwear Kink, No Sex (yet).

Words: 1.6k

Part 2 (F/M Ver.): Here. Part 2 (M/M Ver.): Coming Soon

A/N: Finally finished Toby's dirty secret fic! Sorry it took like two months damn!! I swear part two will come out way sooner than that. 0-0

You walked out of your room in a hurry, quickly fixing your hair and sweatshirt. You only had a couple hours left in the day to sneak into town and grab some essentials for the house. You felt bad leaving Toby home alone, but you needed to be quick and undistracted, you hoped he’d be fine staying to help clean up a bit before Masky and Hoodie returned the next morning.

Walking down the hall and towards the door, you spotted him sitting at the table, finishing his lunch. You walked behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning down to his ear, “Hey Tobes, I gotta run some errands before the shops in town close. I’ll be back in a couple hours, m'kay?”

Toby simply hummed and nodded in response, you couldn’t tell from behind, but a nervous blush was spreading across his face. You smiled and turned to kiss his cheek before pulling away from his body entirely, making sure to say goodbye one more time as you headed out the door. He hated to admit it, but the simple action of a hug and kiss on the cheek from you had his blood running straight to his cock. 

It made him feel like such a loser, but he couldn’t help it. You’re just so fucking cute and sweet and affectionate with him, how could he not be a total simp for you? The hardness in his cock steadily grew, creating an uncomfortable tightness in the crotch of his pants. He tried to ignore it, he really did. But today he just couldn’t stop thinking about your beautiful body and hypnotizing voice. 

His mind was absolutely racing with dirty fantasies. Ranging from being on his knees and going down on you, to fucking you from behind like an animal in heat and being drowned in your moans. His cock was throbbing painfully now, it was getting unbearably hard to fight now. But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to jerk off right? He was home alone now. You wouldn’t be back for at least 3 or 4 hours, and the other two were gone till tomorrow morning. There was total privacy. 

Toby leaned back in his chair, pushing his hips up to shift to a more comfortable position. He ran his hand over the bulge in his jeans, sighing from the small bit of relief. Throwing his head back, he continued to tease himself through his clothes, pretending it was your hand rubbing and grabbing on his hard cock. He slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his boxers down at an agonizingly slow rate. He wanted this to last as long as possible, not knowing the next time he’d have this sort of isolation again. 

As his cock was finally being released, Toby noticed something from the corner of his eye, it was your favorite hoodie hanging on the chair next to him. You must’ve forgotten to put it in the wash today. 

And just as he realized that, an idea sprung into his mind. Without thinking on it too much longer, he reached over, grabbing it and bringing it to his face. He took a deep inhale as he buried his nose in the cloth. Fuck, it still smelled just like you . 

It was an intoxicating mix of your natural scent, signature fragrance, and just a hint of sweat. Unconsciously, he ran his free hand back down to his crotch, grabbing it at the base and slowly beginning to stroke upwards, face still nuzzled into your hoodie. He groaned at the sensation, suddenly becoming aware of his body, and just how fucking horny he was. 

Toby started off with a slow, teasing pace. Steadily move his hand up and back down again, occasionally swiping his thumb across the tip, smearing his precum and using it as lube. His breathing was starting to get heavy, completely lost in pleasure as his continued to fantasize about you. He imagined you were still wearing this sweater, sitting in his lap and bouncing on his cock like a whore. He imagined how pretty you’d look in that state, sweat droplets building up on your face, mouth parted and flowing with whimpers and moans, hair messy and sticking to your forehead. 

Just thinking about how fucking good it would feel to completely stuff you with his cum nearly made him lose it right then and here. He’d give anything to watch it drip down your thighs and lick them clean right afterwards. 

He was beating his cock at a hard, fast rate now, high pitched moans escaping his throat and being absorbed by your clothing. He was getting dizzy from your scent now, a cloud of lust fogging his mind completely. Something this weird should not be feeling so good right now. 

But soon, he began to slow himself down to a complete halt. Toby lazily stuffed his cock back into his pants as he pulled them up a bit. Another idea was coming to him, a very, very stupid one. But he wasn’t thinking clearly, that much was obvious as he stood up and stumbled down the hall to your room.

What he was thinking to himself was simple, if you hadn’t put your favorite, most used sweatshirt in the wash already, then surely the rest of your used clothes must be untouched too? Which would mean your used underwear would be available, free to use as a replacement for your hoodie. Yes, it would be gross, and it would be a complete invasion of privacy... but if you never found out, it couldn’t hurt, right? 

Normally he wouldn’t even consider doing something like this to you, you’re his best friend. And yes, he was madly in love with you, but he also didn’t want to risk what you two already had, and it goes without saying, this could easily ruin what you two have.

He wasn’t in the right headspace to think that rationally though, he just couldn’t deny anymore that he’d always secretly dreamed of doing this. And if he couldn’t have you… maybe this would suffice… 

Toby carefully turned the knob of your door, testing to see if it was locked or not. Of course it wasn’t, you had no reason to do so, nobody ever went into your room anyway. Well, not that you were aware of at least.

He swiftly pushed through the entrance of your room and began to scan your room for a laundry basket. Sweet , it was right by your bed. Without even bothering to close the door behind him, he walked straight to the basket, shuffling through your clothes and looking for the first pair underwear he could find. 

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breathe as he lifted your underwear out of the pile. They were cute, and soft. The hardness in his pants twitched and throbbed at the sight, feeling a rush of anxiety and arousal course through his entire body. His hands were lightly trembling as he brought the used garment to his face, still clutching onto your hoodie as if you were still in it. 

Toby took a deep inhale, closing his eyes halfway and groaning. The scent was fresh and intoxicatingly musky, you must’ve just changed out of them before you left . Not wanting to waste any more time, he stood up from his kneeling position on the floor and crawled into your bed. He laid his head back onto your pillows and quickly took his cock out again. He immediately got to work, jerking himself off at a harsh, vigorous pace, twitching with every jolt of electricity being sent through his veins. 

His mouth and nose were fully covered by your underwear as he breathed in it’s scent. Savoring it like a fine wine, feeling almost drunk off of you when you weren’t even in the home. God, he wishes so badly he could have you sitting on his face right now. He wants you to use him, shame him, make him feel like the disgusting pervert he is. 

He sticks his tongue out to taste you on the clothing, letting out a pathetic whine right away. His back arches off of the bed as he repeatedly licks the fabric. He can feel himself getting close. No matter how hard he tries to edge himself, he can feel the pressure build up inside. 

Before he gets too close though, he hurriedly moves the panties to wrap them around his throbbing cock. He bites his lip so hard his teeth are threatening to break skin, watching himself use your underwear like a fleshlight. The soft, warm fabric was hugging his cock so nicely he just couldn’t hold back anymore. 

The pressure that had been building in his lower abdomen finally reached it’s breaking point. His muscles tensed momentarily before his orgasm began to erupt. He whimpered and moaned out loud as his body twitched and spasmed under his hand. A wave of ecstasy crashed over him so hard he nearly screamed. 

He stroked his cock one, two, three, four more times before he stopped. His breathing was labored and heavy as he tried to calm down. He soon felt the post-climax exhaustion hit him. His eyes half-lidded as he slowly went to remove the cum stained underwear from his lap, but he couldn’t get too far with the clean up before he was interrupted. 

“Having fun Toby? God, you're so fucking pathetic.” A loud voice said from the doorway, making him instantly wake up. Adrenaline coursed through every nerve and vein in his body, heart immediately racing. 

This can’t be fucking happening right now…

[angelfic]

Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️

here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌

theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.

The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.

The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.

“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.

“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.

Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.

There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.

”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”

“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”

You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.

“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”

“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”

Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”

Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”

“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”

Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.

“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”

“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”

You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”

“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”

You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”

“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”

“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”

“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”

You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”

“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”

“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.

“Always.”

[buckyalpine]

you know what I live for? Misunderstandings. Angst. Fluff.

You bit your lip hearing Bucky's conversation with his two closest friends, the three men sitting together in the living room. It clearly wasn't a conversation for anyone else's ears but you couldn't move from the spot you were glued to.

“I-I think I should tell y/n” Bucky sighed, pacing up and down the living room while Sam and Steve were silently judging the super soldier.

"Seriously? This little affair still going on?" Sam shook his head while Bucky gave him a small nod.

“I really like her” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Well you got tell her, no point keeping it to yourself at this point, she deserves to know. It's been going on for long enough Buck” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.

“She makes me feel safe. It’s different. I love y/n, but-" Bucky flopped onto the couch, staring up a the ridiculously high ceiling.

“But?”

“This-this is different. I-I think I love her-”

“Do you hear yourself right now” Sam said incredulously, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for him, "You brought this on yourself so deal with it"

“I know” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just-you should see the way she looks at me, her eyes, I didn't mean for it to get this far-

"Save it. Tell y/n" Steve stated, not willing for any of this to go on any longer. This wasn't the first time his bestfriend brought up this topic and he was certain it wouldn't be the last unless Bucky came clean.

You hadn't even realized you'd started crying until you struggled to choke back a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth and running off to your room instead. Bucky frowned at the soft sniffle he thought he heard, craning his neck to see an empty hallway.

"Did you hear that?" He turned to Steve who shared the same look of concern. "Fuck, do you think that was y/n?" His heart raced further, desperately wanting to run over to you, looking at the clock and realizing it was also time for him to see her. As much as he loved you, he had to go to her first.

He didn't have a choice.

-

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your misery, your boyfriends pleading voice muffled on the other side.

"Baby?" Bucky knocked again, desperately hoping you'd let him in and give him a chance to explain himself. He never intended for any of this to happen. He finally decided to let himself in, opening the door, his heart dropping seeing your sad, pouty face, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He knew you'd overheard him so there was no point in hiding anything anymore.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out" Bucky spoke softly, shuffling at the door, guilt plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. Before you could say anything, he shifted closer to you, nervously biting his lip.

"Her name is Alpine" Tucked into the crook of his arm was a tiny white kitten no more than a few weeks old, happily cuddled into the warmth of his chest. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, blinking slowly while he cooed, seeing she was up from her nap.

"This is who you were talking to Sam and Steve about?" You asked nervously while Bucky sheepishly nodded, giving you an apologetic smile for his dramatics.

"I've been taking care of her. I know we're not allowed to have pets but I couldn't just leave her there in the cold" Bucky whispered, petting her small head with his finger while she batted at his tags. You giggled at how soft your boyfriend was for the tiny kitten, the furbaby having him wrapped around her little paws.

"I found her while I was out on a run, she was by one of the bushes. I don't think her mom came back for her, she was alone. She was so tiny, she would've died" Bucky felt his throat tighten, remembering the day he'd heard her cries from the garden, her tiny form fitting into the palm of his hand. She'd been days old, waiting for someone to find her.

"I've been feeding her every couple hours, got a box set up by the bush with some blankets but she can't stay there forever. Steve caught me checking on her a few days ago" Bucky looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping you'd understand what he was asking.

"Is this where you've been running off to?" You shook your head while he smiled down at the kitten, proud of how much she'd grown.

"Can we keep her? I don't to put her in a shelter, she'll be scared and she just got comfortable letting me hold her, I don't want her to feel abandoned-"

"We'll keep her. Let's talk to Tony tomorrow" You hushed your boyfriends nervous rambling with a soft kiss to his sweet lips, rubbing your thumb along his jaw.

"Really?" His eyes lit up, bright and blue, matching the baby that stole his heart.

"Really, you big softie" You teased, loving your teddybear of a boyfriend.

"I'm sorry I worried you" Bucky whispered, pulling you to sit in his lap, his two favorite girls cuddling into him.

-

"He finally came clean" Sam snorted, seeing you and Bucky sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of cat toys, with a blur of white fur jumping between the two of you. "How'd you convince Stark"

"Didn't take much to be honest" you giggled; Tony tried to put up a stoic front, melted instantly as soon as Alpine crawled up his leg, purring into the crook of his neck. "He bought her a heated cat bed and automatic food dispenser"

Alpine stretched across the warm giant couch, curling up under a patch of sun while Bucky looked at her with hearteyes.

"I have competition with a cat" You playfully frowned while Bucky shook his head, scooping you into his arms immediately.

"Never babydoll, you're my everything"

I thought I overheard you saying she's different" You nudged him while he tried to defend himself again, only to fail miserably.

"He's lying y/n, he talked about her eyes and the way she looks at him" Sam chimed in, while Bucky hid himself into the crook of your neck. "And how he thinks he loves her"

"Shut up Sam"

"Such a softie"

[archiveofvirtue]

Could you do Rafe x Sweet Pouge reader. They have just seen each other around, never talked. He finds her attractive tho. She has been asked on a date by a Kook. She sits at the restaurant all dolled up, excited and waiting. Rafe happens to be there too sitting at a table. And SHOOK by the way she looks. She get's a phone call from the dude, who laughs and says it was a prank. She gets up teary eyed.......maybe he follows?.......

WHEN TWO WORLDS COLLIDE! ⸻ rafe cameron

notes / ahh i had sm fun writing this!! 🎀 soft rafe just tickles my brain. tysm for requesting this!! I added a few more things to make it a little longer, so I hope u like it.

content / rafe cameron x fem!reader, sweet pogue!reader, rafe being a big softie, fluffy asf, a lot of comfort, rafe lowkey having a crush, strangers to lovers kinda trope (?)

You stood at the entrance of the Country Club, your heart racing with excitement and nerves. You smoothed down your flowy sundress one last time, glancing at your reflection in the glass doors. Today felt different.

It wasn't every day that a Pogue girl like you was asked out by a Kook, and you had spent hours getting ready, picking out the perfect outfit, doing your makeup just right. Your heart fluttered at the thought that maybe, just maybe, you could fit in this time. You could be someone different—someone who belonged.

The warm summer air carried the salty breeze from the ocean, reminding you of the Cut and the simple life you knew so well. But today, that seemed worlds away. You stepped inside, feeling a mix of anticipation and insecurity as you glanced around the Country Club, its polished floors and chandeliers making you feel slightly out of place. But you pushed the feeling down. This was your chance.

You sat by the window, checking your phone for the time, pulse quickening as you waited. The guy who asked you out was someone you barely knew, but he was part of the crowd you'd always watched from the outside. You didn't want to admit how much this meant to you—how much you hoped this could be a chance to break free of the labels that defined life on the island.

Minutes passed, and your smile started to falter. You checked your phone again, trying not to feel anxious, but the creeping doubt was hard to ignore. He's just running late, you told yourself, forcing a smile, trying to stay hopeful. But then your phone buzzed, and with a flutter of hope, you answered quickly.

But the moment you heard the voice on the other end, your heart sank.

"You're a fucking Pogue," the guy laughed. "Like I'd ever want to go out with someone like you. It was just a joke."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. The laughter on the other end of the line felt like a cruel echo in your mind. You sat there, frozen, as his words cut through your excitement, leaving nothing but humiliation in their wake. Your throat tightened, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that were already burning in your eyes. You hung up without saying anything, your hands trembling as you placed the phone on the table.

You'd dolled yourself up for this—you had hoped, you had believed. But now, sitting in the middle of the elegant Country Club, surrounded by polished perfection, you felt utterly small. Like you didn't belong, like you were foolish to have ever thought you did.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, hoping no one had seen. You tried to pull yourself together, but it was no use. The tears came faster now, hot and bitter, and you couldn't stop them. You ducked your head, hiding your face in your hands, feeling the weight of the rejection settle deep into your chest.

All you had wanted was a chance to feel special, to be seen as more than just a Pogue. But now, the sting of being laughed at, of being a joke, felt unbearable.

What you didn't realize was that you weren't alone.

Rafe had been watching you from the moment you'd walked into the Country Club, leaning against the bar. He had seen you, in your dress, eyes bright with anticipation, and he'd noticed how beautiful you looked.

He had always thought that. But, like most Kooks, he'd kept his distance—You were a Pogue, after all. You were from two different worlds, and he wasn't supposed to get involved.

Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Rafe had watched you wait, seen the way your excitement slowly gave way to nervousness, and then to devastation. He saw the moment your heart broke, face crumpling as you ended the call. And now, watching you try to hide your tears, something inside him snapped.

He couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

The words he overheard 'You're a fucking Pogue' repeated themselves in his head, making Rafe's blood boil. His grip on his drink tightened until the glass nearly cracked. His anger simmered, but it was more than just frustration at the guy. It was guilt.

Guilt that he, too, had kept you at arm's length because of your Pogue status. He couldn't stop himself from thinking you were out of his league, but now, seeing you cry, he couldn't care less about the divide between Kooks and Pogues.

Rafe straightened up, his heart pounding as he made his way down to where you sat. You didn't notice him approaching, too lost in your quiet sobs, wiping your eyes and trying to pull yourself together.

When he reached you, he cleared his throat gently, your head snapping up, and eyes wide and red from crying. For a moment, you were visibly shocked to see him standing there.

"Hey," Rafe said, his voice low, almost soft.

You quickly wiped at your face, trying to compose yourself, clearly embarrassed. "Rafe?" You mumbled, voice shaky. "What are you—?"

"I saw what happened," he cut in gently, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his expression you didn't expect—concern. "That guy's an idiot."

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling as you tried to push back the flood of emotions. "It was stupid," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have expected anything different."

"You didn't deserve that," Rafe said, sitting down across from you. His eyes never leaving yours while his words were firm, but his tone was gentle. "He's just some asshole who thinks he's better than everyone. Don't let him make you feel like this."

You stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Why was Rafe Cameron, of all people, sitting here, comforting you? He was part of the same world as the guy who had just humiliated you. But the look in his eyes was sincere, and for the first time that night, you didn't feel invisible.

"I just..." you started, your voice breaking. "I thought maybe for once I could be... someone different. I thought maybe I could belong."

Rafe's jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn't speak. He understood more than you realized. The pressure to belong, the weight of expectations—it was something he knew all too well.

"You don't need to be different," he finally said. "You don't need to change who you are to fit in with people like him. You're better than that."

You blinked at him, your heart fluttering at his words. You hadn't expected any of this. The warmth in his gaze, the way he was looking at you as if you mattered—like you were more than just a Pogue. It made you feel seen in a way you hadn't been before.

"Why do you care?" You asked quietly, your voice still shaky.

Rafe hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you two. Why did he care? Because, for the first time in a long time, he saw someone who didn't fit into the perfect mold of the Country Club crowd. You were real, and raw, and beautiful in a way that went beyond the labels that divided the two of you.

Yet he had kept his distance because of the lines drawn between your worlds. Now, though, seeing you like this, those lines didn't seem to matter anymore, yet he couldn't bring himself to tell you, feelings just weren't his thing.

"You know," Rafe said with a small smile, his eyes flicking over your dress, "you went through all that trouble to get dressed up. It'd be a shame to let that pretty outfit go to waste."

You blinked, looking up at him with those wide, glistening eyes, as if you couldn't quite understand what he was saying. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said, standing up and offering you his hand. "How about a round of golf? I mean, you're already here. Might as well have a little fun, right?"

You hesitated, feeling a little shy. "I've never played golf before," you admitted, glancing down at your hands.

Rafe's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, it's your lucky day then, cause I'm the best teacher you could ask for."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, your heart doing little flips. You weren't sure why he was being so kind, but something about it made you want to see where things could go.

So to his surprise—and a little relief—you nodded. He reached out again, and when you took it, he led you outside toward the golf course. There was something about seeing you like this, so out of your element but willing to trust him, that made Rafe feel...different. It was hard to describe, but he liked it.

As you two reached the grassy expanse of the course, you looked around nervously, feeling a little out of your comfort zone. Rafe handed you a club, watching as you awkwardly tried to mimic the stance you'd seen in movies or on TV. You were adorable, fumbling slightly, and even though you seemed embarrassed, you didn't give up.

"You're close," Rafe said, stepping forward, his grin softening as he moved to help you. "Here, let me show you."

Before you knew it he moved behind you, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as he placed his hands over yours, guiding your grip on the club. Your breath caught as his chest brushed against your back as he adjusted your stance, and he could feel the way your body twitched slightly, the tension building between you.

Rafe wasn't immune to it either—your presence so close to him, your soft scent filling the air—it stirred something inside him, a pull he couldn't ignore.

"Like this," Rafe murmured close to your ear, his voice low and smooth. "Just follow my movements."

You swallowed, trying to focus on what he was teaching you, but the closeness, the quiet intensity of the moment, made it hard to focus on just golf.

Rafe could tell you were trying your best to concentrate, but he could also feel your nerves, the way your hands trembled just a bit under his. It made him chuckle, not in a teasing way, but in a way that made him feel something...warm. Protective.

You nodded, hands shaking slightly as he guided you through the motions. After a few practice swings, he pulled away, giving you room to try on your own.

"Go ahead," he said, stepping back with a smile. "You've got this."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You adjusted your grip on the club, your mind still replaying the feeling of Rafe's hands all over you. You swung the club, and to both of your surprise, the ball flew perfectly across the course.

"I did it!" You exclaimed, voice filled with excitement. Without thinking, you jumped up and down, joy overflowing as you turned to face Rafe. "Did you see that?"

Rafe grinned, his expression soft as he nodded. "Yeah, I saw that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked proud, but there was something else in his gaze—something warm and genuine that made your whole body react.

Without even realizing it, you launched yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly in your burst of happiness. Your energy, your warmth, it all hit him at once, and for a moment, Rafe stood there, a bit stunned. Then, he laughed softly, wrapping his arms around you in return, feeling a rush of something he hadn't expected—something real.

You were so full of life in that moment, so pure in your happiness, that it caught him off guard. But once you realized what you were doing, you quickly pulled away, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry," you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "I didn't mean to freak out over something so small."

Rafe shook his head, still smiling at you. He could see how shy you felt, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to hold back. "Don't apologize," he said, his voice gentle. "I think it's adorable."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you dared to look up at him again. The way he was watching you, his smile so easy and sincere, made you feel something you hadn't expected—a sense of belonging, right here, in this moment with him.

Even Rafe himself felt something shift between you two, something that had been brewing for a while but had finally come to the surface today. As he stood there, watching you, the line between Kook and Pogue seemed to blur, and for once, he didn't care about any of it.

All that mattered was you.

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @starkeydolly @rafescokewhore @rafecameroninterlude @beausling @dolcekissy @t6urusmoon

[too-deviant]

The incessant ringing of loneliness (or three weeks part two).

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke is back, officially. But you can’t find it in yourself to be happy about it.

Content: angst, loser!luke makes an appearance, a lil fluff, this one is probably happier than part one

Word Count: 4k

Notes: i can’t thank you guys enough for the love on three weeks :( it really means the world, and i hope you enjoy this one too! i don’t think there’s gonna be a part 3 just because i want the rest of luke and r’s story to be up to your own interpretation - especially since his path to healing is such an important factor and it could go in any way. hope that’s ok with you guys :)

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

You weren’t very popular at camp.

Despite the fact that you’d been there for longer than most of its occupants, and that you’d bandaged up some of their gnarlier injuries, you just didn’t have what it took to have people know your name upon first glance.

Clarisse had her unbridled aggression — she scared people into knowing who she was. Charles Beckendorf was the guy you went to when you broke a sword and didn’t want Chiron finding out about it, plus he was six foot six and kinda hard to miss. The Stoll Twins were behind pretty much every crazy scheme that ended up in Hermes losing desert privileges. Luke was…well, he was Luke. Need I say more?

Point is, while everyone knew everyone, not everyone really knew you. They knew your face, your parentage, and your overall skill set. But they didn’t know your name, or what made you tick.

Which was fine, really. You liked the alone time you got in the infirmary when your sister would run out to gossip with her friends in Aphrodite whenever she saw them walk by. You didn’t mind that, when your cabin got their hour of free time each day, your siblings would rush off to their friends and you would simply settle down with a good book.

It’s not as if you were entirely lonely — you had your fellow Apollo kids. You, Alina and Lee bonded especially, being the older kids of the group. So you had them — the only difference was that they had other people, too.

Which, again, was fine.

Except when you started to take care of Luke, you finally felt like you had a person. You looked forward to seeing him after meals each day, and you found excuses to linger in his room whenever possible. Call it odd, but you grew to enjoy the fact that nobody else knew he was back. Because that way, you had him, he had you, and that was that.

But then Luke got better.

You didn’t even have time to worry about it — one minute you were scarfing down your breakfast, eager to bring that second plate up to the Big House, and ignoring the strange looks your siblings sent you. Then in a split moment, everyone was cheering, people were standing and suddenly you didn’t feel so crowded anymore.

You heard murmurs of excitement, but people were practically standing on the table around you — unhygienic, much? People are eating here — and you couldn’t see what they were looking at. You tugged on your brother’s leg and he glanced down at your raised brow, then he said, “Luke’s back!”

It was like you were sucked back in time. No — it was like you were sitting in a waiting room, shivering from the cold breeze that whisked in through the automatic doors. And then the doors closed, and you could release the tension in your body because the warmth was already reaching your fingers — only for someone to walk past and make the doors open again, sending the sharp sting of the cold right back to where it was before.

Yes. That’s what it was — the warmth Luke’s eyes on you had provided was suddenly ripped completely from you the second your brother's words reached your ears. Replaced with the blistering cold of nobody ever knowing your name.

So it was back to normal for you. The normal you had grown accustomed to — the normal you liked. The normal you thought you liked, anyway. 

You didn’t even catch a glimpse of Luke’s face as you stood and left the Pavilion, focusing on the floor beneath your feet rather than the crowd forming around him. Oh, but you couldn’t forget that he was back, it was all anybody could talk about. Once they’d done the math and realised he was the patient you’d been taking care of for three weeks, you locked yourself in your cabin to avoid all the questions, and didn’t see him until the very next day. 

The chatter of Luke’s return had died down when you woke up the next morning — a little later than you usually did, Lee having to shake you so you wouldn’t miss breakfast. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pulled a clean camp shirt over your head, stumbling a little due to the fact that you hadn’t fully woken up yet. 

When you were ready, Lee was waiting by the door. A few of your siblings were still getting themselves into a line after his loud Fall in! had woken them up, so you had time to stretch your arms and let out a sigh once you had taken your place beside him. You and Alina always walked with him to mealtimes, even though neither of you were counsellors, and you greeted her with a smile. 

The air was stuffy again — so much so that even Lee let out a wince when the shining glow of the front door hit his eyes. Then he stepped out of the cabin — his usual routine of checking the garden and cabin for pranks before letting them out coming into play. But he stopped. 

“What?”

He swung his head back at you, brows raised and smile growing, “Luke’s back.”

Out of instinct, you rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure we all know that, already.”

“Yeah, but —“ He turned fully then, hands on the doorframe and grin shining, “He’s back, which means the Hermes kids are finally under control again, which means we don’t have to worry about being pranked first thing in the morning!”

“Holy crap.” Alina was grinning now, both of your siblings looking at you and each-other with this excited expression that made you sort of angry – why are they perceiving Luke? They’re not allowed. 

You huffed a sigh as Lee started to lead the line outside, “He got back yesterday, there’s no way he’s already –”

But he was. As you stepped into the sun, the skin on your thighs already forming an uncomfortable layer of sweat, you looked to where the Hermes cabin was filing out of their door, led by the one and only Luke Castellan. You paused. 

He’d been back a day. Sure, his scar had healed nicely, but it was only three days ago that he was struggling to hold his own in a sword fight – if he was back to his counsellor duties, was he going back to teaching sword fighting? You were unsure he should even be in charge of all those Hermes and unclaimed kids so soon, but going back to teaching only days after coming back to camp? There was no way he was ready for that.

Should you say something? Or would he dismiss you, now that he was done with you?

You watched as he walked with Chris, chatting idly as if nothing was wrong. But you saw Chris glance occasionally at the jagged line through his brother’s eye, and you saw Luke attempt to ignore it. 

Should you say something?

You tripped. You were so busy staring creepily at Luke that you tripped over your own feet and tumbled into Lee’s back. He stumbled slightly but righted himself with a huff and a chuckle, turning and asking if you were alright. 

But you had looked straight back in Luke’s direction – he was still talking to Chris. He wasn’t looking at you. 

He wasn’t your person anymore.

Luke was unsure. 

Which didn’t happen often — as one of the oldest campers, and the one everyone else looked to in times of peril, it was sort of essential for him to be sure. He needed to know what to do, to have a solution for every situation, and to be completely calm about it. Otherwise, camp would go to shit. 

That much was obvious — he didn’t know why you hadn’t told him this in the three weeks you spent together, but camp had turned itself upside down in his absence. Apparently nobody was prepared for him to be gone for so long, and they kind of all lost their shit. 

He was happy to be back, don’t get him wrong. He lit up when he saw his brother’s faces again, when he felt their arms wrap around him. He laughed when Travis joked about thinking he was dead, and when Connor quipped that the camp was seconds away from starting a revolution. He nodded at Chiron, smiled amusedly when Mr D rolled his eyes, he scooped Annabeth into his arms, whispered to her that yes, he was alive, and he let himself be whisked to his table, the crowd following like moths to a flame. 

It was slightly overwhelming, but he was well-equipped to deal with it. He liked the feeling — if he ignored the throbbing on the side of his face, it could be like he’d never even left. The quest never happened, the dragon never happened, and people are just happy to see him because he’s their counsellor. Of course they would be. Everything was fine. 

Everything was fine — so he ignored the urge to scan his eyes across the crowd in search of a familiar head of hair. He stopped himself from glancing at the Apollo table, from looking in Lee’s direction, just in case he wasn’t standing alone. 

Because he didn’t need you anymore. Not that he didn’t appreciate all you did for him, but the healing was done. He was better, he was back at camp — he was Luke Castellan again. If he looked for you, if he met those eyes and returned that smile, it would be admitting defeat. Admitting that he wasn’t better, that he still needed his doctor. 

But he didn’t. Because he was back, baby! And he didn’t need to think about that stupid quest, his stupid dad, or his stupid scar ever again. 

He had a short chat with Chiron, who looked a little uneasy when he expressed his readiness to get back to camp duties. He told him that it was fine if he needed time to settle in, but Luke was firm. He didn’t need to settle, he didn’t need to wait. So Chiron sighed, and told him to escort his cabin to the climbing walls for their morning session. 

And that’s how the rest of the day went — climbing wall, arts and crafts cabin, strawberry fields, archery practice. Luke did it all, just like he used to before he left. If people would just stop looking at his damn scar, maybe he could pretend he never left at all. If they stopped murmuring about him being the secret camper, hidden from them this whole time, he could avoid thinking about you and the sweet touch of your fingers on his face. 

The fact that he hadn’t seen you at all since his return helped him on that front — you weren’t around at breakfast, lunch or dinner. You weren’t in the infirmary whenever he peeked through the windows. You weren’t with the rest of your cabin when they were paired with Hermes for hand-to-hand defence practice. 

Not that he was looking for you, or anything.  

“Hey, man.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder as they walked up to breakfast. It had officially been twenty-four hours since Luke’s return, and the chatter had died down significantly. That was good for him, helped him ignore the fact that he was ever not there. 

All he had to do was keep his eyes off you — who had magically reappeared in camp — as you also walked up to breakfast, the Apollo kids trailing behind you, Lee and Alina. 

“Listen, you did great yesterday.” His brother was saying, and he zoned in on it. “It was like you never left.”

Cool, that was the plan. 

“But it’s sword fighting today.” 

Luke raised a brow, “So?”

“So…” Chris sang, awkwardly waving a hand, “You don’t have to jump right back into training us, is what I’m saying.”

He scoffed, running a hand through us curls, “Nah, bro, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Because —“

“Y’know, Chris,” Luke sent his brother a cheeky look as they took their seats around the Hermes table, “if you’re scared to get back to my gruelling training sessions, just say that.”

Chris’ face fell, appalled, and he put a hand on his chest, “Scared? Dude, you’re the one who should be scared. I’ve gotten good since you’ve been gone.”

And there it was — a reminder that it wasn’t the same. That he couldn’t pretend he had never left, because nobody else was. Whatever, it’d be fine. A couple of weeks and this would all blow over and he would never have to think about it again. 

The Amphitheatre, unlike the rest of the camp amenities, was familiar to him. He didn’t need to stand and take it all in like he did with everywhere else, because he’d been here not even a week ago with —

No. Stop. You aren’t in his life anymore. He never went on his quest. Everything is how it should be. 

The kids gathered around him were letting off a range of emotions as Luke stood before them, sword in hand. The younger ones were giddy, eager to get back to training with their favourite teacher. Some of the older ones, however, were only slightly confused that he’d bounced back so quickly. If he had to spend three weeks in the Big House before even going outside, was he ready to jump right back into sword training? Maybe he’d go easier on them today, take it slow. 

“Alright — if there’s anything I've learnt over the years, it’s that sword fighting is all about reflexes. So, today, we will be working on y’all’s dodging skills. Oliver, get up here!”

Luke was back on Mount Tamalpais. The fiery breath Ladon was shooting at him seared his skin and burnt holes into his shirt. He was ducking out of the way, but there was no room to breathe when another one of his hundred heads came at him with a fierce snarl. His sword felt useless in his hands, every swing being deflected and every jab proving useless compared to the dragon's swift movements. 

He blinked, and he was back at camp. Sparring with an unclaimed kid who’s name was lost on him. Sweat dripped down his brows but he wiped it away with shaky fingers. He gave an off-handed comment on the kids form before calling a water break. 

“Yo— woah, man!” 

Chris looked wide-eyed at Luke. He had tapped him gently on the shoulder and he had responded with an aggressive swing towards him. He stepped out of the arc just in time, but Luke still dropped the sword like it had burnt him. He stepped back, hands shaking, and stared at the ground. 

It was odd — being at Archery in the mornings. You’d spent three weeks skipping the hour in favour of taking food to Luke and ensuring his dressings were changed. Which for most cabins, was what? Three classes a week? 

Not for the Apollo kids — who have always and will always have their first hour spent on the Archery fields. Mainly because it’s when the sun is rising, shining on them in the early mornings and giving them their power to hit the bullseye. You included, even if healing was more your purview. 

So you’d missed probably around twenty classes, give or take a few. Your form was, well, subpar at best. Lee had to spend the entire hour making sure you didn’t accidentally hit one of your siblings — and that was after he had to re-teach you the basics. 

You probably would’ve been better had you not been so distracted — your mind whirring with thoughts of Luke. You wished your brain would just leave it alone, but apparently you weren’t done mulling over the situation. You wanted to slap yourself across the face and say hey, idiot. The three weeks is up, he’s healed. It’s over. But your siblings would probably look at you weird, so you decided against it. 

Instead, you threw yourself into your duties. Archery was a bump in the road, but now you were smooth sailing. You didn’t focus on anything else but what you had to do that day — not taking a moment to breathe because if you did that, you’d start thinking about Castellan again. You didn’t want that, you really didn’t want that. 

It was going really well, too. But then Chiron just had to interrupt your canoeing session, asking you to clear out any medical supplies you left over in the spare room of the Big House since nobody was staying there anymore.

Oh, great. You were thinking about him again. 

And then all the thoughts you’d been suppressing since ten in the morning were overflowing your head, and you thought you might have had to ask Mr D if you were going mad because when you cracked open the door and peeked your head in, Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed like usual and you had to blink to make the hallucination go away. 

Except it didn’t go away. Instead it looked at you and smiled, “Hi.”

Your lips parted, and you stepped in. Your eyebrows curved in on themselves, “Uh, hey. What are you…”

You were still about seventy percent sure that he wasn’t real, but nobody was there to listen to you talk to air, so you replied anyway. Luke clicked his tongue, let out a chuckle, then sighed, “I don’t think I can do it.”

Okay, fifty percent sure. 

“Do what?”

“Go back out there.” He gestured a hand to the window that pointed outside, although it was still covered with the curtain. “I thought…I dunno, I guess I got too excited yesterday. Thought I was ready to jump back into it.”

You stepped fully through the threshold, and he followed you with his eyes as you walked over to the desk. Nothing but a few spare bandages that you scooped into your arms before looking back at him. You tilted your head, “Healing isn’t linear. It’s perfectly normal to feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like it’s crumbling around you the next.”

He stood, walked over to you. Thirty percent. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them.” 

“You won't.” You shook your head, “You made a big step, coming back to camp. That's it for now, you don’t need to take any more big steps for a while.”

He nodded, “No more big steps.”

“Not until you’re ready.”

Luke’s hands reached out, taking the bandages from where you cradled them to your chest. He put them back onto the desk behind you. Ten percent. 

His eyes bore into yours, “I don’t think I’m done healing.”

You shook your head surely, “I don’t think you are, either. And that’s okay.” 

He nodded, lips clicking when he parted them, “Which means you’re not allowed to leave me yet. You have to stay with me until I’m fully better.”

You shook your head then, stammering, “It’s — that’s not how it works. What you went through, it — you might not ever be fully better.” 

But Luke just nodded like he knew that already, taking a step closer, “I think I’m okay with that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. What the hell do you say to that? “Okay.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together, “So you’re not gonna leave me.”

Five percent.

A shake of your head, “Not until you ask me to.”

“Good.”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you froze. Okay, he was real. He was really there. You were sure. You hugged him back — he buried his face into your neck and whispered something about you never leaving him again and you whispered something in return about how you wouldn’t dream of it.

So, apparently, you severely underestimated what it was like to be friends with Luke.

You’d thought about it — of course you had. You would imagine what perfect golden boy Luke Castellan was like when he didn’t have to be a perfect golden boy. When he could just be a boy, hanging out with his friends like a normal person would. What jokes did he tell? Did he still keep up that Luke Castellan Grin or did he relax into an easy smirk? Did he make his friends follow the rules even when they were alone? Did he follow the rules when he was alone?

You wondered, although you never thought you’d actually find out. But he’d made it clear you were never leaving his side so long as he still needed you — and he was sticking to that. Firmly.

The summer sun was hot on your back — only this time your dad seemed to be going easy on you, as you weren’t completely uncomfortable under the warm cotton of your camp shirt. You still wafted it every now and then, proving some cool air to your chest, but overall you were feeling good.

You walked into the Amphitheatre with the rest of your siblings — who were less than amused that, despite Luke’s return to camp, Tyler P from the Hephaestus cabin was still running sword fighting practice. They heaved themselves onto the tiered seats with dramatic groans, but he simply grinned at them.

You paused from where you were about to sit down next to Alina when a waving hand caught your peripheral. It was Luke, tucked into the very top corner of the steps, smiling at you from the shadows.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked when you reached him, raising your brow in amusement. He patted the spot next to him and you sat down, just as Tyler began to talk. Luke leaned in.

“I’m watching.” He muttered into your ear, then he smirked at you, “You can’t stop me from doing that.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You murmured, leaning back on your elbows and watching as your siblings paired up reluctantly. “Thanks for pulling me away, though. Gives me an excuse not to take part.”

Luke huffed a laugh, “He can’t be that bad, right?”

“Just you wait.” You smirked.

Turns out, Tyler was that bad. Every ‘new skill’ he tried to teach them either (a) they already knew, something Luke liked to whisper at you with a shake of his head, or (b) he couldn’t even do it himself, let alone teach others how to. Another thing Luke commented on from where he sat beside you, hands aching to get in there and show him what was what.

“Just one tip, and then I’ll go.” He begged under his breath as Tyler dropped his sword for the umpteenth time. “Please.”

“No.” You didn’t even look at him, “Because one tip turns into a demonstration. And a —“

“— a demonstration turns into a class, yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but you just grinned at him. He smiled, “You’re mean.”

“I know.” You said in a faux-sympathetic tone. You pouted at him, “I’m just so cruel, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a disbelieving grin, “Damn, doc. What happened to you?”

You scoffed amusedly, “You did.”

His mouth dropped open and you smiled, looking away. He poked your side and you shuffled away with a giggle, attempting to ignore his riled up smile. He didn’t relent, for every inch you moved away from him, he scooted right back towards you. You looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “I miss when you were too miserable to talk to me.”

“No you don’t.” He shook his head. He was right, you didn’t.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, and you felt it on your face. That was when you realised how close your faces were — mere centimetres apart. You swallowed thickly, but you didn’t move away. Luke’s smile stretched, and his hand began to inch up your arm.

You squinted, “What are you doing?”

It was his turn to feign confusion, pulling his lips into the same pout you did only moments earlier, “What are you talking about?”

His hand was at your elbow now, sliding higher. You shook your head, a minute movement, “Doctor Patient Fraternising isn’t allowed.”

He gasped, pulling his hand back in favour of placing it dramatically against his chest, “It’s not?”

“Nope.” You grinned amusedly, “Sorry.”

“Damn.” He leaned back, glancing at you for a second before looking back towards Tyler’s shitshow of a sword lesson, “Guess I’ll have to get another doctor.”

You snorted, “You’re a loser.”

You stood up and went to rejoin your siblings, and Luke shouted after you, “I’m your loser!”

“What was that?” Lee asked when you stopped beside him.

“What? Oh,” You glanced back at where Luke was sat, and he averted his gaze from where he had been looking at you. You looked up at your brother, “He’s just happy to be back, is all.”

He chuckled, “Sure.”

Whatever. He was your person again and Lee could suck your dick if he had anything to say about it.

🏷️ @aceofswordsandarrows @cowsandcomics @number-onekidqueen @kestisvrse @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @how2besalty @iinlovewithfictionalppl @lilacspider @l0ve-dov3 @coffi-cake @ironmanbaldes @onecojg @hiraethavis @freaking0utficrecs @delphifarms @wildlyfreemoon @candylandy8173 @sinnercry @featherofthecrow @babellucci @telliette @totallynotnic

[lovecuprite]

Kinktober Day 8 - Threesome with Satoru Gojo & Ryomen Sukuna

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv/a (unprotected), creampie, threesome, double penetration, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral (reader receiving/giving)

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 5.2k

a/n: next few days are gonna have to be short because i'm tired :')

You lay in bed, fixed on the ceiling, as your mind whirred through a million things. These past weeks had been intolerable: deadlines at work piling up, personal obligations weighing down on your shoulders, and stress overwhelming everything else.

And even with such deep exhaustion, you just couldn't have a simple nap. Your body was tense; muscles were tight from the constant pressure that was hoarding onto your being, yearning for some relief and peace.

You could hear footsteps down the hall, but you ignored it. Satoru and Sukuna were probably just enjoying their day off; you knew they'd likely end up arguing over something stupid anyway. You let out a light sigh and closed your eyes, desperate to will yourself to sleep.

Your bedroom door burst open and your two roommates charged into your room, the air in the room instantly thickening with electric tension. You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes. "God- can't you guys give me just one minute of alone time?

"We've given you enough peace," Satoru said, his voice laced with playful mockery. His tall frame leant casually against the doorframe, gleaming blue eyes taking in the image of your exhausted self. "You've been cooped in here for hours. Thought we'd check on you.

"You look like shit," Sukuna said bluntly from behind him, his deep voice carrying that ever-present arrogance. He stepped into the room, completely unapologetic as his crimson gaze swept over you. His eyes lingered a moment longer than usual, something dark and possessive flashing in them. "You're overworked."

You peeked out from beneath your arm and sighed. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Satoru's lips now had a teasing grin on them as he walked over to the bed, sat down at the edge near your feet. "No, you're not fine. You're stressing yourself out, and it's kind of difficult to watch.

Before you could even respond, Sukuna closed the space between you both, towering over the opposite edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip just a little under his weight while he sat down. His gaze posed no different from a predator's glare, staring down on its prey. "When's the last time you even relaxed?"

"I don't have the time-" you sighed frustratingly, rubbing your temples.

Satoru clicked his tongue in disapproval, looking at you with concern in his eyes. "That's where you're wrong.”.

You shot him an irritated glance, but the intensity of their combined focus made your heart race. Sukuna’s hand suddenly reached out, moving your arm away from your face and tracing circles along your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so harsh. “You need to stop pretending you’ve got everything under control.”

“I do,” you argued weakly, even though you knew they could see right through you. “I’m just—”

Sukuna cut you off with a low chuckle, his fingers curling around your wrist, firm but not forceful as he had you sit up beside him, “You’re exhausted. You need to let go.”

Satoru’s hand joined Sukuna’s, but instead sliding up your leg in a slow, deliberate motion. His touch was light, teasing, but it sent a spark of electricity through your skin. “Let us help you unwind.”

You felt your breath catch as they both closed in, their hands moving with an unspoken understanding. Sukuna’s fingers grazed your bare skin, his touch rougher but skilled as they pressed into your tight muscles, working at the tension in your arm and shoulder. The contrast between the two of them—Satoru’s playful teasing and Sukuna’s more intense approach—made your body react in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“I don’t know if this is…” Your voice faltered, but even as you protested, your body was already responding. The tension in your shoulders started to melt away under Sukuna’s firm massage, while Satoru’s fingers traced lazy patterns up your leg, drawing out soft gasps from your lips.

Satoru’s smirk widened as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You don’t need to think right now, sweetheart. Just relax. Let us take care of you.”

Your heart raced in your chest, you sat there, torn between wanting to push them away and this undeniable need for someone to touch you-to forget it all for just a little while. Sukuna's hands were unyielding, touching firmly, knowing just where you wanted it, without asking. He leaned in closer to you, his lips barely caressing the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "You're too tense," he said huskily against your skin, the tone low and dangerous. “Relax.”

Satoru’s hand moved higher up your thigh, his touch maddeningly slow as he whispered against your other ear, “You’re safe with us. Just let us help you forget everything.”

Your mind was racing, but your body was quickly surrendering to the sensations. The stress that had weighed so heavily on you was slipping away, replaced by the heat of their combined attention. Sukuna’s hand slid up your back, fingers pressing into the sore muscles, and you couldn’t hold back the small moan that escaped your lips. The sound only seemed to encourage them.

Satoru chuckled softly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s better. Stop pretending everything’s perfect, we’ve got you.”

Sukuna’s hand gently tugged your head back as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck. “Let us help our precious roommate.”

The two of them overwhelmed you, their touch pulling you deeper into a haze of pleasure and comfort. They worked in perfect sync, Satoru’s fingers sliding up to caress your inner thigh, while Sukuna’s lips finally pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck. His kisses were rough, possessive, while Satoru’s touch remained light and teasing, making your entire body tingle with anticipation.

You melted beneath their hands, all the stress and worries that had plagued you beginning to melt, replaced by their touch, their presence. They were grounding you, pulling you back from the edge of exhaustion and frustration, making sure that for tonight, you would forget everything but them.

Sukuna's hands moved with certainty, sliding under your arms as he shifted, pulling you up and against him. With minimal effort, he repositioned himself so that his broad back rested against the headboard, and you found yourself nestled between his strong legs. Your head lay against his firm chest, his heartbeat regular against your ear. The warmth of his body surrounded you, grounding you in a way.

He massaged your scalp with gentle motions that had your eyelids fluttering shut. A soft sigh escaped your lips as the tension in your shoulders dissipated completely as Sukuna's steady presence wrapped around you. "There you go," he murmured low, his voice reverberating through his chest. "Just like that. Let it all go.

Satoru was still seated at the edge of the bed, a devilish grin spreading across his face as you melted into Sukuna's arms. His fingers trailed up your legs, teasing the sensitive skin just below the knee before finally coming to rest on your thighs. He scooted closer, closing the space between the three of you, and leaned forward until his face was mere inches from yours.

“You’re looking better already,” he teased, one hand slipping up to trace along the waistband of your shorts, his fingers warm against your skin. His other hand found the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing gently across your lips. “Isn’t this much better than stressing about things that you can’t change?”

You blinked slowly, overwhelmed by the sensations—the firm hold of Sukuna’s arms around you, the way Satoru’s hands explored your body with an infuriating mix of tenderness and teasing. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body betraying how much you needed this, how desperately you wanted to forget everything except them.

Sukuna’s lips brushed against the crown of your head, his breath warm as he leaned down slightly to murmur in your ear, “You’re always so tense. Let us look after you for once.”

His hands moved from your scalp, trailing down the sides of your body, firm yet deliberate as they worked at the tight muscles. Every touch from him was purposeful, pushing you deeper into a relaxed haze. Each knot in your muscles unravelled beneath his skilled hands, and with every stroke, you felt yourself sinking further into his warmth, your body pliant against him.

Meanwhile, Satoru’s fingers brushed along your thighs, making their way with painfully slow movements; his eyes never once leaving yours as he watched intently for your response. He leaned his head to the side, the ever-present smirk on his lips as he leaned in closer-his warm breath fanning over your cheek until a soft whisper escaped him, "Tell me, sweetheart, what do you need right now?

Your lips parted, but words seemed impossible to form. All you could manage was to breathe out shakily as you felt the overwhelming presence of both of them. Sukuna's chest rumbled in a low growl of approval as he continued his methodical ministrations, his hands slipping lower, caressing your sides and stomach, while Satoru's lips brushed up dangerously close to your ear.

“Sshh, don’t worry,” Satoru murmured, his tone soft but edged with promise. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shorts, grazing the sensitive skin beneath. “We know.”

Sukuna shifted slightly behind you, pulling you closer against his chest, his legs bracketing yours, effectively trapping you between the two of them. His large hands slid beneath your shirt, splaying across your stomach as he bent down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Just feel,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding further up your torso, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edges of your bra. The sensation sent your heart racing, your pulse pounding in your ears as the walls of resistance inside of you crumbled. Sukuna's lips continued their lazy, possessive way down your neck while Satoru's hand slipped further beneath your shorts, his fingers ghosting over your panties to tease but not quite give you what you needed.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smirk against your skin as he felt you shudder beneath his touch. His hands slid higher, palming your breasts through the delicate fabric of your bra, before lowering it slightly, thumbs circling around your nipples and coaxing them to hardness. "You're so responsive," he purred, voice low and rumbling through your body. "So eager for our touch.

Satoru's teasing fingers continued their exploration, slipping lower to outline your slit through the dampening fabric. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he teased, his lips brushing tantalisingly close to the corner of your mouth. "Too much to handle?

You bit your lip, a whimper escaping as Sukuna pinched your nipples roughly, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. His teeth grazed your earlobe. "Don't hold back," he said as his other hand slid downwards,, fingers also dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. "We want to hear you.”

His touch sent shivers rippling through your body, and the heat of his breath made your pulse quicken. You felt his control, the dark possessiveness in every move he made, while Satoru’s lips lingered dangerously close, teasing you with what you craved but never quite giving enough. The tension was electric, a heady mixture of pleasure and restraint. And your body responded-arching into their touch, begging for more. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and you were completely at their mercy.

Satoru's hand joined Sukuna's as they pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, baring you to their hungry gazes. “Fuck, look at you,” Satoru breathed, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your glistening folds. “So wet already.”

Sukuna’s fingers trailed through your slick heat, teasing your entrance before sliding higher to circle your clit. “Is this what you need?” he purred, his touch maddeningly light. “To be touched by us?”

You couldn’t suppress the moan that spilled from your lips as your hips bucked into their touch. Satoru’s fingers joined Sukuna’s, spreading your folds wide and exposing you fully to their ministrations. “That’s it,” Satoru encouraged, his thumb swirling around your clit while Sukuna’s fingers sank deep inside you. “Let us take care of you.”

The dual sensations were overwhelming—Sukuna’s thick fingers stretching you, curling inside you, while Satoru’s skilled thumb worked your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. 

Sukuna’s fingers plunged deep into your tight heat, curling and scissoring, stretching you open. The wet squelch of his digits pumping in and out of your dripping cunt filled the air, obscene and erotic. He spat into his palm, slicking his fingers further, the sound making you shudder and clench around him.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tightly,” Sukuna groaned, his crimson eyes blazing with lust as he drank in the sight of you writhing on his fingers. “Such a greedy little pussy, desperate to be filled.”

Satoru captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as Sukuna’s fingers pistoned in and out of your dripping heat. His tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours and dominating you completely. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugging it gently between his teeth before soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

Satoru settled between your thighs, his eyes dark with longing as he took in the vision of your glistening pussy. He dips his head down, revelling in your intoxicating scent. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his hot breath tickling sensitive flesh. "I can't wait to taste you."

Without any more hesitation, Satoru dove in, his tongue breaking between your slick folds and lapping at your essence. He growled low at the taste of you, his tongue diving deeper, searching for more of what he could get, greedily wanting everything. His hands locked onto your thighs, holding them open as he continued. 

Every flick, every swirl, courses fire through you, threatening to consume your very being. It was as though the world had shrunk to just him and the sensations he was creating, the movements sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you.

Sukuna watches intently, his cock straining against his pants, aching to be buried inside you. "Fuck, look at him," he growls, palming himself through the fabric. "He can't get enough of your sweet cunt."

As Satoru's tongue continued its relentless assault, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, you felt your mind begin to cloud with pleasure. The sensations were overwhelming; each stroke sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building you higher and higher. When he lapped at your clit, the flat of his tongue providing broad, delicious pressure, you found yourself gasping, seeing stars with every pass. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, urging him on, urging him to take you higher, to push you over that delicious edge.

With every bump of his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves, you felt your resolve slipping. All thoughts of the outside world fading away; nothing but the heat, the pressure, the sweet tension that was building with each flick of his tongue. You’re lost in the moment, teetering on the brink of something profound, desperate for more, craving the release that feels tantalisingly close yet maddeningly out of reach.

Sukuna's hand joins Satoru's, gripping your thigh firmly to hold you steady as your legs tremble from the mounting pleasure. "That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice rough with desire, urging you to surrender. "Let him make you feel good. Let him bring you to the edge again."

Satoru intensified his efforts, his tongue plunging deep, fucking your entrance as his nose grinds against your clit. The sensation sends shockwaves through your body, and he can feel you tightening around him, your thighs trembling as he pushes you closer to another peak. He relishes the way your legs clamp around his head, holding him in place as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

With a renewed determination, Satoru flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, his movements relentless and precise. Each stroke sending jolts of ecstasy coursing through you, pulling you closer to that sweet release.

Sukuna watched with ravenous intent, his hand moving to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingers. "That's it, baby," he encourages, his voice low and husky, filled with lust. "Let him make you come." The vibrations of his words resonate through you, amplifying the pleasure building within.

Sukuna's eyes darkened with lust as he watched you come undone, writhing in ecstasy beneath Satoru's ministrations. He feels his own desire pulse, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, aching to be buried deep inside your heat.

With a final, hard suck on your clit, Satoru sent you spiralling over the edge once more. Your vision whites out, your back arching off the bed as the wave of ecstasy washes over you. Him, eagerly lapping up at your release, savouring every drop as his tongue took as much as he could get.

Sukuna moves you from his chest so he can kneel beside you. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he swallows cries of rapture. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours, tasting your arousal on his tongue.

As you're slowly coming down from your high, Satoru softens his touch to a gentle lapping with his tongue, savouring you with a satisfied hum. Pulling back, his face glistened with your arousal, as a triumphant grin spread across his lips at the sight of you.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you come," Sukuna growls against your lips, his hand sliding down your body, dipping between your thighs to feel your slick heat. "I could watch you fall apart like this for hours."

Satoru's fingers, slick with your juices, trail down to your asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle teasingly. He presses the tip of his thumb against the entrance, feeling it flutter and clench at the unfamiliar sensation. "Shh, relax," Satoru coos, his other hand stroking your inner thigh soothingly. "Let me in, baby. Let me make you feel good." 

After waiting for a moment, he slowly, carefully, he slowly pushes his thumb in, feeling a slight tense in you.

Sukuna watched, his eyes dark with lust as Satoru began to prep you. He could feel his own arousal grow, his cock straining against his pants desperately now. "Look at you-you're gonna take us so well, aren't ya?" he purrs, his hand reaching down to free his cock.

Satoru's thumb slid in and out of your ass, stretching you gently. The new sensation had you gasping, your body arching into his touch. "Fuck-" he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. "Might be a bit of a stretch baby.”

Sukuna's eyes are consumed with hunger as he drinks in the sight of you, stretched and ready for them. His cock pulses in his hand, pre-cum seeping from the head as he strokes himself leisurely, working out tension. "Such a good girl, taking Satoru's thumb so well," he praises low and gravelly, rough with need. "I bet you can't wait to feel my cock splitting you open, can you?"

As Satoru added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you further, your breath catches in your throat. "That's it, baby, relax for me," he coos sweetly, his free hand soothing along your inner thigh. "I know it's new, but you're doing so well." The dual sensations of Satoru's fingers probing you and Sukuna's heated gaze consuming you had you trembling, core clenching around nothing.The desperate need to be filled, to be completely claimed by them, pulsing through you.

To distract you, Sukuna sat up and guided your head downwards towards him, "Open up, baby," he commanded, his voice husky with lust. "Take me in your pretty mouth." Your lips parted obediently, as he slid his thick length past them, groaning at the sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him. The overwhelming taste of him sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but moan softly by the way you were pleasing him.

"Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hips rocking forward slightly, pushing more of his cock into your mouth. "Such a good girl, taking me so well." You moan around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure and feeding your own insatiable desire.

Meanwhile, Satoru continued to work your ass with his fingers, adding a third digit to stretch you further. "Mmm, look at you, so desperate for our cocks," he purrs, watching intently as you take Sukuna deeper. The heat pooling in your belly intensifies, and the sound of his voice filled you with a mixture of excitement and need.

Sukuna's grip tightens in your hair as he guides your head, establishing a steady rhythm as he fucks your mouth. "That's it, baby, take it all," he groans, his eyes rolling in pleasure as your tongue swirls around his thick length. "You look so fucking hot with your lips wrapped around my cock." 

The sensation of being so full, both in mouth and ass, sends you spiralling into a fog of ecstasy, your mind racing with the overarching pleasure and that intoxicating sense of complete and utter helplessness.

Satoru's fingers worked relentlessly, twisting and scissoring, preparing you expertly for the stretch that would be Sukuna’s cock. "Fuck, I think she's definitely ready," he growled, his fingers finally sliding free from your tight hole.

Sukuna pulled his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, smearing his pre-cum across your cheek, marking you as his. He guided you back onto his lap, his thick cock pressing against your ass. Wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you close, his free hand grips his length, positioning himself at your prepared entrance.

"Ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice dripping with desire. "Ready to feel me split you open?" The thought sent a thrill down your spine, as you nodded eagerly, heart racing in anticipation.

As Satoru settled between your thighs, his impressive length bobs against your stomach, heightening the tension. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss just as Sukuna begins to push forward. The head of his cock breaches your tight ring of muscle, and a mix of pleasure and pain rushes through you as you can’t help but to gasp again.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Sukuna groans, his hips pressing forward steadily, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You can hardly breathe, your body feeling deliciously stretched as he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, leaving you reeling, caught between the pleasure of being claimed and the slight ache of fullness.

Satoru breaks the kiss, his dark eyes filled with lust as he takes in the sight of you impaled on Sukuna's thick cock. He strokes your cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. "You okay, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and concerned. "Tell us if it's too much." You appreciate his concern, but you can only manage a breathless nod, yearning for more.

Sukuna held you close, his chest pressed against your back, arms wrapped securely around your waist. He nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath dancing across your skin. "Just breathe, baby," he coaxes, keeping his hips still for now, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. "Fuck, you fit so nicely around me. So perfect." His body heat pressed against yours is intoxicating-a stark reminder of what the two of you share.

After a moment, Sukuna started to move, his hips rocking in shallow thrusts as he worked you open and got you used to the feel of him inside you. "That's it, good girl" he murmured, hands gripping your hips possessively. "Take my cock. Take it all." The pleasure built with each thrust, a delicious stretching sensation that has your heart racing.

Sukuna’s steady rhythm continued, his thick cock stretching you delightfully as he filled you again and again. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you back onto him, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Meanwhile, Satoru positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds. "Ready for me, baby?" he asks, his voice husky with desire. "To take both of us?" Your heart raced at the thought, and you nodded vigorously, yearning for the fullness.

With your confirmation, Satoru pushed forward, his length sliding into your heat along with Sukuna’s measured thrusts. "Oh fuck," he gasps, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he joins the rhythm. "You feel incredible." The dual penetration is overwhelming, stretching you to your limits, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that sends your mind spinning.

As they began to move together, their hips rocking in sync, you could feel the intensity building. "Fuck, baby, you're taking us so well," Sukuna growls, his fingers digging deeper into your hips. "Such a good girl, letting us fill you up like this." Your body responds eagerly to their words, the pleasure coursing through you in waves.

Satoru leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all his longing into the moment. "We want you to take care of yourself, baby," he murmurs against your mouth, concern lacing his tone. "Don't let work consume you. You're too important to us." You feel the weight of his words, knowing how much they care for you, and it infuses you with warmth.

Sukuna nods, hands roaming over your body, caressing your curves as he continues to thrust into you. "That's right, baby, you need to put yourself first." Their dual focus on your pleasure and well-being wrap around you like a blanket, encouraging yourself to let go completely.

Sukuna's and Satoru's hips began to pound deeper into you; the rhythm urgent, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The dual penetration was an overwhelming sensation-the stretch bordering on painful yet edged with undeniable pleasure that had you gasping for more. You felt your orgasm rise, a tight coil of desire building within you as they pushed you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, I can feel you tightening up," Sukuna groaned, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him. "You gonna come for us, baby? Gonna let us feel you come undone?" The need in his voice fired up something in the pit of your stomach.

“Gonna come," you gasp out strained with pleasure. "Don't stop, please- don't stop-" Your heart was racing, desperation fueling the need as Sukuna and Satoru redoubled their efforts, hips pounding into you with ruthless abandon. You felt Sukuna’s fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive nub, while Satoru captured your lips in another searing kiss.

The combined stimulation was too much, and you came undone, crying aloud as their names both spilled from your lips. Your body convulsed as waves of bliss washed over you. Your pussy clamped down around their cocks, and a whine escaped your lips as you gushed around Satoru’s cock, the sensation overwhelming.

Sukuna and Satoru continued their merciless rhythm, their thrusts becoming erratic as they neared their own release. “Fuck, she’s milking our cocks,” Sukuna groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Gonna fill her up so good.”

Satoru leans in towards Sukuna, stealing a passionate kiss from him, their desire palpable in the air. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs against Sukuna’s mouth, his eyes dark with lust. “Takes us so well. Like she was made for this.”

The intensity of their connection sent shivers down your spine as they kiss again, their tongues tangling in a dance of raw hunger while they fuck you in tandem. “Gonna mark her inside and out,” Sukuna growls, breaking the kiss, determination etched on his features. “Make sure she knows she’s ours.”

They moved at a brutal pace, their hips slamming into you with brute force, skin slapping against skin, as they claimed you. Satoru held tightly onto your hips, bruising you, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh at every thrust. Sukuna bit down on your shoulder, teeth sinking deep into soft, supple skin, marking you for himself.

Overwhelmed with sensation, you felt your mind spiral into overstimulation. Incoherent babbles spill from your lips: a jumbled mess of moans, pleas, and garbled encouragement. You thrash your head from side to side, lost in the pleasure radiating from your core, your body no longer your own.

The two didn't relent, their thrusts becoming more erratic as they approached their peaks, focused solely on their pleasure, determined to fill you with their release. You’re aware of the urgency in their movements, and a thrill runs through you, knowing you’re the source of their desire.

With a final, powerful thrust, Sukuna and Satoru bury themselves deep inside you, their cocks pulsing as they release their hot load. Sukuna’s lips curl into a snarl, his teeth still embedded in your shoulder as he empties himself within you. “Fuck, yes!” he roars, hips jerking as he fills you with his thick cum.

Satoru threw his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he followed suit, his cock twitching as he pumped you full of his own release. “God, you’re perfect,” he gasps, grinding against you, ensuring every last drop stayed inside. The sensation of their warmth filling you was intoxicating, your body trembling as you felt it seeping around where their cocks were still connected to you.

They remain buried deep inside you, bodies pressed against yours as they catch their breath, savouring the aftermath of their combined pleasure. Sukuna’s teeth finally release your shoulder, leaving a mark—a symbol of his claim on you. You bask in the warmth of their presence, a blissful afterglow enveloping you as you lie there, feeling cherished and completely consumed by their desire.

“Fuck, that was incredible,” Satoru pants, resting his forehead against yours as your breathing slowly returns to normal.

The two men withdraw from you, their cocks glistening with your combined arousal. They help you stand, their arms steadying you as your legs wobble beneath you. 

“Let’s clean up,” Satoru suggests, his eyes sparkling with lingering desire. “Then we can cuddle, yeah?”

Sukuna scoops you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest as he carries you toward the shower. “You did so well, baby,” he praises, his tone low and soothing. “You took us perfectly.”

Satoru walks beside you both, his gaze filled with warmth. “We want you to relax and let us take care of you. You deserve it,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. “And we mean it when we say we won’t let you overwork yourself anymore.”

You nod, your body still humming from the intense encounter. Sukuna’s and Satoru’s possessive claims, their marks on you, only deepen the bond you share, leaving you feeling cherished and desired.

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© lovecuprite ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[snoopcco]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

제이크 , false image.

>_< mai’s endless fluff saga

⊹ ࣪ ˖ popular!jake x quiet awkward! reader. ! 💻

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🗒️ when reader meets popular jock jake who seems mean and unreachable, turns out to be a fluffy, obsessed, baby girl boyfriend. !

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ✩ jake occasionally calls reader ‘glasses’ (because reader is a slight nerd. 🤓☝️)

JAKE WAS DEFINITELY THE POPULAR GUY. known by everyone in their school, “sim jaehyun” this! “jake” that! the whole school knew jake, he was a jock, an amazing athlete, a smart student.

but that all changed once jake met her.

a recap of their love story? happy to tell you.

she was in the library, studying for the maths test, jake was roaming around. finding some peace and quiet in the library, that was his escape. his escape to just feel a bit free and more calm. at that moment, she dropped her wallet trying to reach for her pen, not even noticing that it fell over the table that only she had occupied.

with jakes fast reactions, he quickly noticed the wallet silently thudding on the carpeted, calling towards him.

he thought the girl had heard it, but to his luck, it seemed as if she was wearing headphones that were on 100% volume. jake couldn’t just leave the library all guilty for not telling some stranger that their wallet tipped over and was left on the ground, right?

so, he made his way slowly to the busy girl. picking up the wallet that was a few inches away from her chair, not trying to disturb her. the wallet landed on her desk, as she suddenly looked up.

jake took a slight glance at the studying girl, she had a high pony tail and clear specs that made her features pop out. she had doe eyes that her glasses couldn’t even hide from others even if you were far away.

he gulped, realizing that it was the ‘nerd’ in the school. but to him, he know found out when you looked at her longer, she was beautiful. she wasn’t ugly, but she seemed gorgeous to his eyes at first sight.

“your.. uhm.. wallet fell. I wanted to help you cause you seemed like you didn’t hear it.” his hand landed on the back of his neck, specifically, his nape. but to the girls eyes, he was the popular jock that couldn’t be seen with a person like her.

however, his tone. his soft voice, it made the mean and arrogant remarks of the jock disappear. “thank you, jake.” she bowed practically 90° from her seat, still stunned that jake initiated a conversation with her.

“may I sit here?” jake asked to bring up a question, wanting to have a small (a long conversation that could last for hours at a time) chat with the awkward student.

“oh um sure!”

(border >_<)

jake and the girl bickered and talked for a longer time period that they both wouldn’t had expected. they found out how similar they were despite their differences, leaving the girl who had been looked as the nerd, the girl who was an outcast.

and from that moment on, jake knew that the girl he had met was the one who had to be his.

“baby no! I have to go!” the girl whined, the clingy and pouty jake who didn’t want to let go of her waist that fit perfectly with his veiny hands. he tugged onto the front of her shirt, trying to lower the crop top.

“you can’t leave your boyfriend hanging all alone, glasses, and why should I let you leave in that short ass crop top? when I’m NOT even there.” jake frowned, but she was fed up. or she would be late.

“seriously jake! I need to leave right now.”

“no, glasses, your mine”

it drove crazy at how much jake knew her weaknesses, his cute tone, his eyes, his ability to make her feel butterflies in her stomach. It made her weak.

“glasses, stay, stay with your boyfriend. It would be better than any other shit you have to do, because your boyfriend can spoil you rotten.” jake kissed her on the cheek, still desperate for her to stay.

“no.”

jake soon grabbed her legs and put her over his shoulder, walking away from the door and back inside. “boy! jake! put me down right now!”

“don’t want to.” jake chuckled, all giddy. he loved making his girlfriend all mad and heated up, it made it more fun to tease her endlessly. is this what you get for having a boyfriend who is a serious athlete?

she thought, having a boyfriend like jake, he wouldn’t have any time for her. he would be a booked and busy guy who wouldn’t have time for her. LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. jake went out of his way to cancel his matches if it was date night, or you wanted to hang out with him.

he made sure to always had time with you, he would rather save you then the world.

“I’m gonna kiss your face a billion times and maybe we could go already and do some of the annoying shit you need to do, hm?”

“JAKE!”

“no. it’s baby time, your mine now glasses!” jake smiled evilly, not planning to let her leave. not even in a billion years.

“this is what you get for having a jock boyfriend with a false image.”

@ jwnstars … !! so cutesie core.

OK HSHSSGGS LETS CALM DOWN AFTER THAT MUCH FLUFF ???!!!?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 finally got out of my writing slump and gave into writing again. like a breath of fresh air.

anyway… I don’t know how people overlook jake as the mean frat boy ??? I see him more as the clingy bestfriend of the frat boy who always follows him around ‘cuz they besties !!!!🥹🥹💞💞🎀🎀

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”

“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.