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koolades-world · 1 year

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Hiiii are your requests open?? If so could I request the Demon bros (or just Levi Beel and Belphie) comforting s/o after a long and hard day at work? Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna!

Love ur work btw!! ☆♡☆♡☆

hiii!! I’m pretty sure you’re my first ever requester! yay! I’ve been looking forward to this. Requests are open and will be unless I explicitly say they aren’t :D

Thank you sm!!! Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you imagined. Don’t be afraid to give feedback. Let me know you vision so if you request again in the future, I’ll be better suited to write to your taste next time! Let me know what you think :)

I literally love requests since they give me ideas that I wouldn’t normally come up with, and I’m always itching to write about something. Requests make me feel special LOL kicking my feet, twirling my hair, giggling rn

also sorry that this is so late! it's exam season lol

Demon brothers comforting their s/o after a particularly hard day at work

Lucifer

convinced he would also be half asleep while comforting his s/o this man catches no breaks, except when around his beloved <3

His love language is quality time, so he wants to show you he cares by finally putting down the pen and just relaxing together

Would brew them a cup of his signature coffee, docked up as you like it, of course. Lucky you, he doesn’t do that for just anyone!

Mans down bad lol

Lucifer heard the door opening from his office. He recognized the sound of Mc’s footsteps in the hall as they hung up their coat and tucked away their work shoes. They were oddly silent, though. They usually called out to him, or burst into his home office to tell them about their day. He saw them shuffle past the open door and to their bedroom.

He decided it let it go for now. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but if they needed him, they would come to him. He didn’t need to investigate. However, as he tried to focus on the work, he found himself reading the same paragraph over and over again as he though about Mc. After not even five minutes of debating, he got up with vigor and made his way to their room.

They were sprawled out over on the bed, face down. He quickly moved to flip them over. He let out a small sigh of relief now he saw their eyes were open. “What are you doing?” Lucifer sat next to Mc.

“I’m tired, Luci.” They grabbed the pillow he always used and put it over their face, their voice muffled.

“Are you feeling unwell?” He removed the pillow so he could see their face again.

“I guess you could say that. Everyone at work was so annoying today and I’m ready to do nothing now.” He stopped Mc from rolling over again and pulled them into his side.

“Let me make you something to drink. Go sit in the living room. Do you have any preferences?” He looked them right in the eyes.

“No, but one of the coffees you make the best sounds nice, maybe please?" He sighed lovingly a little at their antics. They clearly wanted this coffee.

“Consider it done. Now go sit.” He stood them up and gently pushed them out of the room. They disappeared out of view while he quickly brewed the coffee. He returned as fast as he could and sat next to them. Pressing the hot coffee into their hands, he placed his other hand on their head to pat them.

“Do you want to talk about your day?” He picked up his own mug and payed close attention to his partner. They agreed and began ranting about what coworker #1 did and how annoying coworker #2 was at lunch. While he listened carefully, he also took the moment to admire them, for no particular reason.

“… and that’s pretty much it I think. It felt good to get that out of my system.” Their coffee had cooled off by now. They took a small sip to test the temperature, and then took a few bigger ones once they knew it was safe.

“Good. Now if you don’t have anything urgent to do, I would prefer if we could sit together and enjoy each other’s company.” Lucifer scooted closer to press their legs together, so even though their hands were busy, they could still enjoy contact.

“That sounds nice. You’re the best, Luci.”

They basked in each other company for the next few hours, or however long that was. They weren’t really sure, but they were sure they were going to take as much time together as they could.

Mammon

It’s normal for him to be right on top of his s/o as soon as they walk through the door, but once he notices how worn they seem, he enters protective mode

“Who hurt my human?!” “Nobody Mammon, work was just tough” “oh”

No but in all realness, he would let down his tsundere facade to make sure you’re ok

Kisses!

Will convince you to let him make dinner to let you relax. He’s not the best, but he’s going to try, just for you <3

Afterwards, will cuddle together to make sure you day ends nicely

Mammon sat in front of the TV on their couch, his leg kicked up on the coffee table, aimlessly flickering through the channels. His duties were never too heavy, so he always found himself consuming human content. Humans were fascinating.

He heard keys jiggle in the front door. His human was finally home! He scrambled to his feet and patiently waited just out of the range of the door so he wouldn’t get hit by it when it opened. As usual, he threw himself at Mc as soon as they walked in. However, he noticed they were less responsive than usual. He took a step back and smoothed some of their hair back from their forehead. They weren’t smiling.

“Human? What’s the matter with ya?” He shook them by their shoulders.

“Work was the worst today. The day couldn’t have gone by any slower. I really missed you.” They slumped into his embrace. As he held them, he thought for a moment. He knew his usual demeanor wasn’t the most relaxing to deal with at times, and now was one of those times. For the sake of his Mc, he decided to drop his facade.

“Listen, how does this sound? Let me do the cookin’ tonight. Ya need to relax. I can feel the tension in yer shoulders. Ya go shower n’ relax or whatever, while I do the hard work. We can watch yer favorite movie too. If yer still feeling off tomorrow, ya can call in sick and have us time.” The warm smile that finally crept into Mc face, the one he had been looking for. He kissed their forehead, rubbing his thumbs in circles on their back.

“Thank you, Mammon. Everything you need is in the fridge. The recipe is in the cookbook.” They kissed the tip of his nose, kicking off their shoes and coat. They abandoned their work bag at the dining table before disappearing into their bedroom. He found himself stupidly standing there smiling for a moment. He could hear the blood rushing to his face. He snapped to it quickly. Mc needed him, and he was going to deliver. The cookbook was just a notebook the two of them had filled with their favorite recipes. A bookmark stuck out of one part, letting him know what to cook. He recognized it as his favorite human world food. Diavolo, he loved them. He cooked as fast as he could, so that when Mc got out of the shower, they would have a hot meal waiting for them.

Unfortunately, they were done before him, but at least he got the nice surprise of them laying their head on his shoulder and wrapping their arms around him as he cooked. Food was done shortly after, which Mc scarfed down.

“You’re the best Mammon. I love you.” They put their head ok his shoulder again as they sat side by side on the couch watching their favorite movie. He smiled into their hair and gave them a kiss on the top of the head.

“Love ya too.” He stayed silent for a moment, trying to decide what to say next. However, they had somehow fallen asleep. Had he really taken that long to think about what to say? No matter the case, he knew as long as they were happy, he was happy.

Levi

A worrier, will stress over every small thing he did because he’s concerned you’re upset over something he did

After a little thinking, he gathers the courage to go apologize only to realize it wasn’t his fault, he’s so precious 🥺

he’s so sweet, will offer whatever it takes to get his player two feeling better again

If you want to play games together, y’all are playing games. If you want to go out, y’all are going out

Y’all gotta place more respect on his name, I love him 😫 (please my little brother literally nicknamed him hotdog water 😭😭)

At first, Levi didn’t even realize Mc was home. As usual, he was holed up in his gaming room. Mc usually came into his room to give him a kiss and let him know they were home. He looked forward to it everyday. But today was different. The time they usually got home came and past, no word for them.

Levi paused what he was doing to think. It was almost an hour past the time Mc usually arrived home. No texts or calls from them he may have missed. He began to freak out. What if they got into an accident on the way home? What if they needed help but had no way of letting him know? He went to worst case scenario almost immediately. He stood up so fast he got lightheaded, but he didn’t care. He began tearing through the whole house in search of them.

His search ended quickly. He found Mc sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of cornflakes. They didn’t even notice him. As he let out one worry, another one flooded in. Was Mc mad at him? Why else would they not come to see him after they got home from work? He quickly tried to begin thinking of what he might have done to make them upset. Before he could think any longer, Mc noticed him standing in the doorway.

“Levi?” They tiredly put another spoonful of cereal in their mouth, and almost spit it out after Levi threw himself to his knees at their chair.

“Mc! I’m so sorry for everything! You’re the coolest person I know and I don’t deserve you! I’ll do anything to make it up to you!” He looked up at the sadly.

“What are you sorry for? I’m not mad at you. Should I be?” They put the spoon down and got up from the chair to crouch next to Levi.

“Wait, you’re not mad at me?” He paused and look at them.

“I’m not.” While they weren’t mad, Levi could tell something was wrong. They made no further move to continue the conversation, so he carried it himself. He wasn’t used to that.

“You didn’t stop in my room once you got home, so I just automatically assumed you were mad at me. I’m sorry for being so stupid.” He hung his head.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to apologize. Today work was just rough, so I went to get something to eat and unwind with. You told me that your raid was today, so I figured you would find me. Sorry if I worried you.” They side hugged him. He felt bad after he heard them speak. They were just tired and worn down by work. He immediately resolved to make it up to them.

“Well, uhm, if you’ll let someone gross like me help you, is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Anything at all?” Levi asked.

“If you’re offering, just spending time together sounds nice. Tell me about your day.” So he took a seat next to them and began doing what he did best: talking about video games. They watched him intently, occasionally remembering to eat the now soggy cereal that was in front of them. In the middle of his rambling, they gave him a kiss on the cheek. He paused and went bright red.

“To make up for the kiss I missed earlier, and as a thank you always being there. I love you, my admiral.” They smiled at him, the first time he has seen them smile that day.

“I… I love you too.” He was still embarrassed sometimes to say that, but it was all worth it to see the smile on their face.

Satan

Definitely thinks his way of destressing is the best: going to an animal shelter, playing with the cats, and then donating <3

However if you two lived separate from the rest, he’s 100% getting two cats minimum so the cats are right there! would still donate though since it makes him happy

Also firmly believes another really good way to unwind is to just say everything out loud. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s fine, he can leave the room or make it so he can’t hear what you’re saying

If not, he will talk your ear off (endearingly) about his latest read over tea

“Dear, are you home already? I thought you were going out with coworkers right after work?” Satan didn’t look up from his book but he had heard the door open as well the familiar jingling of their keys. Their two cats immediately got up from where they were resting on the back of the sofa and on his lap respectively to greet his partner. He finally looked up to see Mc standing with both the fuzz balls in arms, looking more tired then he’d ever seen them.

“What’s the matter?” He instantly knew something was wrong. He couldn’t place it, but something was off.

“It’s a long story.” They jumped over the back of the sofa and sunk down in the seat next to him. The three of them snuggled into his side, making him melt.

“Do you want to tell me the shortened version?” He placed a hand on their head. They leaned into his shoulder.

“That sounds great actually. Some of it is just office drama but it’s so tiring.” They began ranting to him about their awful day and how the minutes seemed to slow all day. “The only thing that kept me sane was thinking about you and our sons.”

Mc’s remark made him begin to heat up. It’s a good thing they weren’t looking at him. His heart swelled at even the thought of Mc referring to the group as a family. To be fair, they really did treat their cats as their sons and definitely received better treatment than some children. Part of him hoped one day he could prove himself a better father than Lucifer was to him. He couldn’t hope for a better partner. He gave them a kiss on the head.

“I think you need to hear that you’re the sweetest, most loving person I’ve ever met. No matter what happens, work or otherwise, you’ll always have my shoulder to lean on.” A small meow from between them told them that the cats wanted to be included too.

“Thank you, all three of you. Now, did you guys do anything fun while I was out? Please tell me you had a better day?” They looked at the group before them.

“I’m gonna tell them what you did. Yeah, someone had to do it. Stop that!” Satan laughed as the cats batted at his face. He knew no matter what, his partner loved hearing about everything the two cats got up to. Their hijinks could always be the highlight of anyone’s day. While he was in the middle of telling his story, Mc planted a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re a blessing from the heavens.” They wrapped their arms around his neck and leaned in closer. The meaning hit him directly in the feels. The fact that the most important important person in his life considered him, the odd one out of his brothers, a blessing from the heavens was more than enough to make his heart swell.

“I couldn’t ask anymore from a partner.” He gave them a kiss back, and continued the story wrapped up in their arms.

Asmo

You know exactly what he thinks would be best for you

Spa day!! He can give you the routine to die for and the entire time, he will he chattering like a nail tech who’s had you as a long time client

Anything you want is yours right now

He knows this won’t solve your problems, but he knows it will give you the right state of mind so you can solve them when the time comes

In the meantime, he’ll be your biggest cheerleader and kiss you better <3

“Babe! You’re home! I can’t wait to show you what finally arrived today through the human Akuzon! These nail stickers are to die for! Do you know if the human standards would allow them to survive that lava hot springs I love?” Asmo skidded around the corner to the front door as soon as he heard it open. He was holding up a little sheet covered in plastic wrap with cute little icons lined up in neat rows. However, Mc hadn’t even looked up from their shoes as they shuffled into front of him. They placed their head on his chest and leaned into him. "Babe?" Mc only made a strange groaning noise and hugged him when he tried to move away. They gripped him tightly. They still had their bag on their shoulder and keys in hand.

"What's wrong? Did someone at work do this to you?" He patted their back the best he could since they had his arms pinned down by their hug. They sat in silence for a moment, and Asmo was about to speak up again when they finally said something.

"I've just had such a long day. Just being around you is comforting, is all." They sighed happily as he began to stroke their head.

"I know exactly the cure to your woes! How does a super relaxing spa night sound? I just learned how to give hydrating facial and brought these new products for it! If you're up for it, do you think I could do your nails too? These little bow stickers are so cute." He thought that by pampering his beloved and being supportive he could give them the help they needed to get back up. They had done the same for him before.

"That sounds great. You always know how to make me feel better." Mc got on their tip toes to kiss his cheek. He internally squealed. He hugged them back excitedly.

“You’re going to love this! Go get changed into something comfortable while I get my things together. These stuffy work clothes don’t look very breathable.” He was reluctant to release them. He adored them. Eventually they tapped his arm, signaling they were ready to be released. He let go, but before they could walk off, he took their face in both his hands and kissed the tip of their nose.

“Love you Mc. Really, I do. I tell you everyday but I just want to make sure you understand that.” He pushed some hair away from their eyes with his thumbs.

"I love you too, Asmo. I really don’t know what I would do without you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” They overlayed their hands with his and gave him a kiss back. Before he could retaliate, they backed away. After a playful wink, they disappeared around the corner he has initially ran around to get to them. He stood there for a minute, starstruck. It was moments like these that made him question why he ever thought he was the most beautiful thing alive when Mc existed.

Beel

You know the drill babes, say it on 3

Food!! Food is always the answer which is my favorite mentality

Food is what comforts him, especially foods that remind him of you, like what you consider comfort food

He will resist the urge to eat all the ingredients and make this food just for you, to see the look of hot on your face when the presents it to you

You know how hard that is for him which makes it all the more special

Beel was patiently waiting for Mc to get home from work. He did this sometimes, so it wasn’t unusual. However, what was unusual was how long he found himself waiting. He had a very good internal sense of time. He always knew when to stop whatever he was doing to wait for them. His internal timer went off about ten minutes before they got home. If they had told him they would be late that day, the timer wouldn’t go off until later. Today, though, he hasn’t heard anything from them.

He found himself worrying. They were very good with always being on time. He checked his phone. He hadn’t missed anything from them. His brothers were chatting up a storm, but that was it. He decided to text Mc, since what argument Mammon and Levi had gotten into today wasn’t as important as checking up on them.

He quickly send a short message, asking how they were and what they wanted for dinner. Thankfully, he got a response pretty quickly. They told him they were just caught in a lot of traffic, and their coworker has needed a ride home since their car broke down that morning. They didn’t explicitly state it, but he could tell they were tired. He knew how work was difficult sometimes. After hearing them say they were really in the mood for jambalaya, he set his mind to making some.

He knew how warm and comforting it was to return home to a warm meal and the one you love. Mc had treated him to that on many occasions and now it was his time to return the favor. He had seen them make it many times, and while he had never had a hand in making it himself, he thought he could do it. Luckily, they had everything they needed. He gathered everything he needed, and carefully recalled any memories he could of Mc making this food. All of these memories were fond, and he hoped to convy this through his cooking.

When the front door finally opened, Beel was almost done cooking. The smell of the spices was thick in the air. He left the meal simmering on the stove and went to greet Mc.

"Beel, what's that smell?" They set down their work bag and sniffed their air.

"Dinner. I made jambalaya." He smiled, excited to see the grin blooming on their face.

"Awwwww, Beel! You shouldn't have!" They threw their arms around him and squeezed him as tight as they could. All the work and effort he had but into not eating the ingredients was worth it. Mc quicky went to change out of their work outfit so they could sit down together and enjoy dinner together. The smile on Mc's face was worth the world.

Belphie

Even though he thinks sleeping fixes everything, he will do more than the bare minimum for you!

Takes it upon himself to gather his most comfortable pillows and blankets to make a nest for you, kind of like a squirrel lol

Brings offerings of baked goods and your favorite takeout

Will do whatever you want basically <3

Belphie was asleep, as usual, when Mc got home. Normally, he was able to sleep right through this and was awoken by a kiss on the forehead by them. Today was slightly different. The sounds were the same. The soft opening and closing of both the front door and their bedroom door, the jingiling of keys, and the rustling of their coat. However, he had actually awoken before his usual forehead kiss. Something wasn't right. Belphie sat up and watched as Mc walked around them room, setting everything in it's place. They looked over at him, surprised.

"Belphie, you're awake earlier than usual. It is my turn to cook tonight, right?" Mc stopped to check the date.

"Yes." He was still half asleep as they made their way over to him. As they kissed him on the forehead, he grabbed their hands to stop them from leaving. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm alright. Just tired." Mc sighed and avoided eye contact. He knew that wasn't the truth. Trying to lie and tell a sloth demon you were tired when you actually weren't was futile.

"Tell me what's bothering you." He caught their gaze.

"Work was hard today. I had to do a lot of writing too. I'm sick of it right now." They told him after he gazed at them with his best doe eyes. He flipped their hands over in his own to look at them. They looked more red that usual.

"What do you want for dinner? I'll order takeout. And don't tell me whatever or anything is fine. We are getting what you want." He pulled them to sit beside him.

"Well, pizza sounds good." They laughed a little about how oddly stern he sounded.

"Good. Now go shower while I get everything ready." Belphie shooed his beloved away lovingly. They were amused by this again, but did as he asked. He quickly ordered some pizza over the phone, and then quickly began preparing a comfortable place for them to rest. He arranged everything in a nest like structure, leaving room for the both of them in the center. He turned on the TV as well, finding Mc's favorite show. At night, he knew they would rewatch this show while he was fast asleep, but this time, he would watch it with them. He knew how happy it made them to share what they loved with him.

Before they got out of the shower, the pizza had arrived. After making sure the box wasn't too greasy, he placed it on one of their side tables. He didn't insert himself into the bundle yet, though. He was waiting for Mc. Instead, he sat on the end of the bed, on his D.D.D. When they emerged from the bathroom, they were toweling their hair. He led them to sit beside him and began toweling their hair for them. He was still oddly serious the entire time, causing Mc to giggle, but was still touched by it. He tucked them into the blanket amalgamation and put on their favorite show, presenting them with the food. They could feel themselves falling deeper in love with him.

"Love you." Mc kissed his forehead.

"Love you too." He mirrored this action, to show his affection for them. What would he do without this human?

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spro-o · 6 months

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okay, so,,, i got back to reading 4kota, and i have so many thoughts of literally every nature

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR 4KOTA, NATURALLY!

okay so, allow me to rant a lil

bro why the actual fuck is Arthur just magical hitler now?? 😭 like hello???? it genuinely makes me really sad because he was such a sweet and likable character for most of 7ds and now he wants to create an ethnostate for humans only???? it just breaks my heart, man

SAME WITH JERICHO LIKE HELLO? QUEEN, YOURE BETTER THAN THIS. genuinely tho- nakaba try not to make all your characters pedos challenge (impossible). there are literally so many other ways in which Jericho could have ended up in a similar situation, but nakaba really just chose pedophilia? it couldve been something along the same lines just without the romantic attraction!! a family bond can be just as strong- and it couldve been something like her losing Lancelot or in some other way letting him down, and then thinking that he despises her and holds onto that grudge (which, judging his character it wouldve probably been a small spat that he got over) - but maybe Jericho didnt understand that, or wasnt ready to face him, expecting him to be livid - so she asked for an alternative reality where that didnt happen and they got along great as sister/brother or master/trainee. i wouldnt put Jericho past being so stubborn that she wouldnt believe when Lance would say that he forgave her, and then boom!! same set-up, just without the nasty pedophilia!!

ON THE NOTE OF WHICH- (theres so much of that garbage in nakaba's writing, fucks sake) - i genuinely hate the whole thing happening with Guinevere. the whole non-consensual kiss from a 12 year old to a 16 year old (ewwwww) is one thing, but then when Lance is reflecting on that interaction and he SMILES????

you have no idea how much this panel killed me to see. Lancelot youre better than this,,,, 4 years is not a big age difference when youre in your 30's, but when youre 16???? please,,,, cmon now,,,

speaking of whommmmm~~ ,,, I ADORE LANCELOT!! SO MUCH!! this is to be expected considering i love Ban, bUT- hes genuinely just such a cool and wonderful character that has some sense in him. i especially loved those panels where he was like jumping around to get himself hyped up cuz like!! Ban does that!!!! i love,,,,

elizabeth (looking gorge btw, i love that for her) is unfortunately reduced to an object of fondling yet again 😔 literally like the second panel that shes in and shes getting grabbed and groped by Meliodas?? it just feels mad disrespectful to her really deep character that she has such a minor role when you ignore her being sexualised by Mel (in reality nakaba, but i digest)

i love that panel where Anne tells Isolde about what chastity actually is hbghjnhbjh

I FEEL SO BAD FOR NASIENS WHEN PERCY IS ALL UP IN ANNES BOOBS. genuinely- the dropped bag, and all of he blushing that happened before it during their interactions,,,, that shit broke my heart, man

nakaba try not to draw teenagers naked challenge (impossible) (chapter 86 cover)

this is literally like the cutest fucking thing ever????? i want more calm, slice of life stuff for our skrunglies. they deserve a break

someone, please, stop all this shit going on with Guinevere (writing this while reading chp 87) – I really despise the fact that nakaba has to make like literally all of the relationships either look like they have a massive age gap (Ban and Elaine), or actually have a fucking criminal age gap (Mel and Ellie). it really is not that difficult to just write a relationship where there is a <2 year age gap, did you know that, nakaba?? crazy, I know (deadass, while I don’t ship them, it would at least be bearable if she was also like 15-16, just not 12 TT)

chion is such a fucking pain in the ass oh mah gahhhhhh

I love Gawain’s lesbian antics <3

At this point, though I love seeing the characters interact in more casua circumstances, id rather have more fight scenes than god awful, shoe-horned romances between any two characters of the opposite gender (exceptions being Nasiens and Gawain, my sillies <3)

okay,,, thats it for now, but do expect more at some point or another huiyuvghbijhb

#4kota spoilers #4kota #mokushiroku no yonkishi #nnt #rant #4kota manga #lancelot 4kota #tristan 4kota #percival #lancelot #guinevere #gawain #spoilers

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pandorascripts · 2 years

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The 241 is so awesome man, beautifully written! Hey, I was just wondering if you could do a part 2 with a happy ending? Cause I have enough angst for today. But if you don't want to or you couldn't write it cause you are busy then could just ignore this request. This is my first time requesting btw :)

241 (PT. II)

note: hey! I wasn’t expecting this story to do so well, so I kinda got off tumblr for a bit. I saw this last night and immediately got to work :) sorry I didn’t answer sooner!!

song: 241, rivermaya. pairing(s): wednesday x fem!reader, bianca barclay x fem!platonic!reader.

warnings: angst, negligence for health (?), fluff, and a happy open ending :)

pt. 1, here, but this can be a stand alone

pt. 3, here.

proof read once, and written at 1am, and today with like seven hours of sleep. enjoy :)

——————

It had been weeks since you and Wednesday broke up. She gave you your space, watching you from afar. You weren’t oblivious. That’s why you raced out of the classroom immediately, why you changed where you sat at lunch everyday, why you showed up late to every class— it was all to avoid her.

You could tell she wanted to say more, her mouth opening and closing before you dashed out. She’d search for you at lunch, even skipping it so she could check your dorm. It was exhausting, and you were completely drained. Your grades had started to crumble, the bags under your eyes could no longer be hidden by cosmetics, and you could’ve sworn you’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight. You didn’t sleep at night, you couldn’t, not without her cold embrace. But she cheated. She made you this shell of a person.

Bianca tried to help, but you shoved her aside too. You’d shoved everyone aside. You were isolated and that’s how it should be because if Wednesday broke your heart, it was only a matter of time before someone did it again.

As you dragged yourself to botany, you saw a spot of black in the sea of purple. Quickly, you picked up your pace, dashing to the nearest bathroom. You swung the stall open, locking it and squatting on the toilet so your feet wouldn’t show. You lowered your breathing, listening for any footsteps.

You huffed out in relief when no one had followed you. It was unfortunately short lived, seeing as a disgusted face kicked itself under the stall, laying flat on her back. You shrieked out in horror, wedging yourself farther into the wall.

“Dammit, Wednesday!”

She stood up, gently brushing off her thighs. “We need to speak.”

“There’s nothing to speak about,” you grumbled, looking down at your shoes. They were a lot more entertaining than this conversation, and the person in front of you.

“There is—“ She faltered for a moment, her mental dictionary escaping her. “I made a mistake. One that hurt you deeply—“

You snorted, cutting her off. “No shit, Sherlock. Did you hurt Enid trying to get to the evidence to that?”

She frowned, not at all pleased with your attitude. Wednesday stiffened her posture, her face back to a dead expression.

“Look Wednesday, you’re making me late to botany—“

“Not that you wouldn’t have been anyways.”

You gave her a quizzical look, and hopped off the toilet. Due to the small stall, you were in her face. She gazed up at you, her cold eyes meeting yours for the first time. You took a moment to assess her, letting your eyes wander. Her usual makeup was way lighter, her eye bags showing too, there was a slight gloss in her eye, and a vulnerability to them. You gulped, who the hell is pretending to be Wednesday? She’d rather be caught watching chick-flicks than be vulnerable.

“What do you mean by that?”

“As a means to see me as less than possible, you’ve been late to botany eighteen times. On the off chance you weren’t, you were indulging yourself in the rare conversation with someone. Although, conversations are something you seem to be avoiding, given how I had to chase you down in a stall for one.”

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “What about it?”

“You rival Sinclair with your desire for human interaction, this behavior is completely unlike you. I fear I may be the cause.” She broke eye contact with you, copying you moments ago as she stared at her platforms.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Causing you pain isn’t any complement.” Wednesday looked back up at you, her face still neutral, but in her eyes held a war.

They flickered from being vulnerable, open for you, so that you could see her. But they flashed back to cold and ruthless so hard you could’ve received whiplash. Wednesday was at an impasse, and you feared the vicious one you knew so well, would win. You were wronged when her hand slowly came up, placing itself on your bicep. She watched her hand for a moment, almost afraid of it, before looking back at you. Your breath hitched at the newfound intensity they held.

“I hate hurting you. What I did was pueril, completely beneath me, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Tyler is not to blame, only I. I was the one who kissed him—“ You tried to cut her off, but she plowed right through you. Desperately, her other hand shot up to hold you neck. “and I know that I shouldn’t have gambled our relationship on my investigation. They both meant too much to me, and unfortunately I chose the worst option.”

She breathed in shakily, whipping her head side to side as she tried to regain control of her emotions. When your eyes met Wednesday’s again, they were cold, but an equal amount of emotions was kept shown.

“Wedn—“

She placed her forehead on yours, standing up on her tippy-toes.

“Please, tell me you still feel this,” she breathed out.

Her arm holding your bicep slowly started making its way to your neck, leaving a spark in its wake. The tears in your eyes desperately clawed through, trying to tell Wednesday you did. Her touch was hot and cold, burning you alive, but leaving goosebumps trailing after. The pressure on your forehead made you heart swell and beat at godspeed.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Wednesday got to kick your heart around like a soccer ball, and you still loved her. It wasn’t fair that Wednesday got to treat you terribly, shoving you aside and calling you names whilst you just took it. You knew it wasn’t fair, and that’s way you yanked her hands away. You pinched your eyebrows together, a faux anger overtaking your face.

“No,” you seethed out.

Wednesday’s mouth fall agape, her eyebrows raised slightly. “Wha—“

“No. You and I are over. Stay the hell away from me.”

You shoved her aside, not strong enough to see if you’d broken her. You hastily dashed up the stairs, to hell with botany, and locked yourself in an unused classroom. Grabbing out your phone, you scrolled through you contacts until you found her.

Room 205, please. It’s an emergency.

Within minutes Bianca was in the room, nodded along to everything you said.

“And then I shoved her aside, and told her we’re over. God, im such an idiot—“

“No, not at all. Wednesday was a shit girlfriend, alright?”

You lifted your head off her shoulder, shaking it slightly. “She didn’t know.”

Bianca scoffed, clicking her tongue. “She knew damn well what she was doing. Wednesday did not give zero fucks, and at first I admired her for that, but it’s a shitty trait.”

“This isn’t making me feel better. You were suppose to wallow with me, not trash talk the ex im still in love with,” you grumbled, laying your head back on Bianca’s shoulder.

“You’re right. How ‘bout we watch a movie tonight? My dorm? You can even watch that stupid movie that always pisses me off.”

“Zoolander?” You cheerily replied, wiping the tears off your face.

“Yeah, that dude.”

You mumbled out a line from the movie, chuckling at the stupidity of it.

“I’ll even get ice cream. It’ll be our wallowing time.”

“Deal.” You smiled, closing your eyes.

You may not have Wednesday, but as long as Bianca stood by your side, you were confident you’d overcome her.

Wednesday stared at her dorm wall, not moving an inch.

“Wednesday?” Enid timidly called, closing her magazine.

The werewolf earned no reply, only a loud breath in.

Enid grumbled, marching over the black tape to her friend.

“Groveling isn’t a good look on you.”

Wednesday keep staring at the wall, her writing time well over exceeded. Enid checked the typewriter, not a single word was written. She frowned, for Wednesday had sat down three hours ago.

Enid waved her hand in front of her roommates face. “Yoo-hoo, Earth to Major Tom?”

Within a second, Wednesday was up and out of her chair, hovering in Enid’s face.

“What,” she seethed.

Enid was about to retaliate with some sarcastic remark, but she stopped herself. She took note of Wednesday, who was practically shaking. Enid huffed out a sigh.

“You need to put a sweater on, it’s the middle of December and that damn window doesn’t have any wind-blockers— or whatever.”

“No.”

“Yes, you cant freeze to death.”

Wednesday didn’t grace her with a reply, only looking sadly at her shirt. Enid’s eyes followed Wednesday’s, and she realized that not only was Wednesday’s shirt too big for her, but it was also colorful. It wasn’t too lively, just an asphalt gray and some red plastered over it.

“Is that…?”

Wednesday’s eyes snapped up to Enid, rough and firm. “No.”

“Liar. Thats her— that’s her favorite shirt…” she trailed off her sentence, frowning deeply.

“Second favorite.” Wednesday buried her face in her shoulder, turning around.

“You need to talk with her.”

“I tried that!” She barked, finger cocked like a gun. “How did that conclude?”

Enid gulped. “You shouldn’t give up.”

“You are so exasperating! I gave her my all, I bared my soul to her, and she shoved me aside! I—“

“How do you think she felt?” Enid yelled, shoving her own finger in Wednesday’s face. “How do you think she felt when you berated her with those— those cruel words? When you left her alone at those dates she spent hoursplanning, just so you could learn more about the Hyde?” Enid took another step forward, making Wednesday trip over herself. “Or how ‘bout when you made out with Tyler? I’ve tried being your friend, dude! I tried supporting you, but you are screwing up everything! She deserves better.”

Wednesday gulped, her jaw clenching. Enid watched as her body shook once again, but this time not with rage, or coldness, but with grief.

“I didn’t believe you had the guts to say it, Sinclair,” she whispered.

“Say what?”

“What everyone’s been thinking— what everyone knows,” she corrects. “That I’m no good for her.”

Enid sat Wednesday on her bed, sitting an inch away from her. “That’s not true, I said she deserves better, and who says you can’t be? You just need will, and the spirit.”

“Who’s?”

“Huh?”

“Whose spirit, Sinclair.”

Enids eyes shot open, last thing she wants is Wednesday playing with an Ouija Board. She shuddered, remembering the last time that happened.

“Not literally! Like the metaphorical spirit of, y’know, courage, or, whatever.”

Wednesday nodded. “Will— Would you—“

“Yes, I’d love to help you.”

She nodded again, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. “You have to believe me when I say it came from good intentions. I never wanted her to hurt. I just needed to know that my suspicions were correct. I needed to put him away, so I could protect her.”

The blonde nodded. “I know. It doesn’t make it right, though.”

Hesitantly, Enid wrapped her arms around Wednesday. She left her embrace weak so that if she didn’t like it, the psychic would be free to leave. She didn’t though, instead she rested her head on Enids shoulder, breathing shakily.

“We’re in for a long trip.”

You stomped your foot down on the black petals, stuffing the chocolate in your mouth.

“It’s the third time this week, Bianca. She won’t stop.”

“At least you’re getting free chocolate.” Bianca shrugged, stuffing her mouth with the dark candy again.

With a mouth full, you grumbled. “Maybe it’d be nice if it was from someone else. And these notes?”

Bianca picked one up. “I’ll keep sending these until we talk. You cant stop me.”

She snorted.

“It’s not funny, dude!”

“It is though! Like, how worse can she get?”

You shook your head. “This probably isn’t even the least of it.”

Then, just as if the gods wanted to curse you, a pair of keys slid under your door. You walked over, picking them up with the black ribbon. A small tag was placed on there, only reading ‘enjoy’.

You frowned, turning them over. With a loud gasp, you dropped the keys.

“Did she give you a real rabbits foot?”

You whipped around, jaw dropped to hell. “She bought me a fucking car.”

Bianca’s face copied yours and she paced over to you. She picked up the keys, chuckling.

“What the fuck.”

You snatched the keys out of her hand and opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Returning her gift. I’m not letting her but me a car.”

“Hey, be reasonable! Yours has been stuttering every two seconds and it’s gonna break down any day now.”

“I don’t care, Bianca. Stay here.”

You slammed the door shut, not bothering to change out of your slippers. You marched down the stoned corridor, mumbling to yourself.

“Buying me a damn car,” you grumbled angrily.

A tap on your shoulder knocked you out of your rambling.

“Dude! Have you seen the new Porsche parked outside? It’s sick!” Ajax jumped up, grinning.

She bought you a fucking Porsche. You wanted to scream. Ignoring Ajax, you broke into a sprint.

When you saw her dorm come into view, you picked up your pace once again.

“WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the wood.

The door swung open, and your fist was caught mid swing by freezing hands.

“You bought me a fucking Porsche?”

“I’ll return it if it’s not to your taste. Perhaps a Lamborghini?”

You scoffed. “No! You’re going to return it either way, and not buy me a car.”

“Yours has been repaired? I thought it was still stalling.”

You looked away, embarrassment coated your face. “Well, no, not exactly, but— but I don’t need half the school fawning over the car you bought me. Not only that, I never asked your to! Those things are like a million dollars!’

“The 911 Turbo Cabriolet is only $195,700. Although I could buy you the 911 GT3 RS, which holds a value of $223,800.”

Wednesday’s hand dropped your fist, still holding it. You gulped.

“Look, I appreciate the gesture, and I think it’s really swe—“ you cut yourself off, “you have to return it.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you spending that kind of money on me.”

“Unfortunately, it seems that I am unable to express my love for you through words, so I’ve resorted to pricing measures. You’re keeping the car.”

You gulped, looking into the hallway.

“Why don’t you just give up?” Your voice cracked.

Wednesday frowned. The hand not occupying yours held you face softly. “Because there’s nothing in the world that I wouldn’t do for you, and having you back is on that list.”

You shook your head, slamming the keys into her hand.

“Keep the car.”

Against her protests, you walked away from her dorm and back to yours. You paced down the hallway, the nail polish being chipped away by your thumb.

Your breath stuttered as you breathed in deeply, trying to get her out of your mind. Why would she do that? That was stupid! And when did Wednesday get that type of money? You frowned, remembering the multiple times she described her home as a large, gothic manor.

You entered your dorm, seeing no Bianca. Sighing, you jumped onto your bed face first.

God, she was so infuriating, and tiring, and annoying, and stupid, and— and oddly enough, romantic. You curled your hand into a fist, hitting your bed as you huffed. You just wanted to move on, get over her and find someone else. Heartbreaks suck, you concluded.

You pushed yourself off your bed, stumbling over to you closet. Whatever random sweater you grabbed, you flung it over yourself. The motion caused a whiff of a scent to flood you, and you could’ve fainted. It was a light lavender and a small hint of coconut. You buried you face into the sweater, the soft, wooly material easing you. A nostalgic sense crept in and you could’ve swornyou’ve smelt this before. Your eyes fluttered open, hands pressing out the sweater. A gasp launched out of your mouth, the black sweater recognizable in an instant. It was the sweater you’d gotten Wednesday for her birthday, she looked it over nodding in approval. You felt so ecstatic because you had gotten her sense of fashion correctly, three sizes too big, black only, and dead things. The sweater held a skeleton looking wayward, flowers for eyes and white petals plastered over it.

You stared at it for a hard moment, eyes becoming hazy. Hot streaks came down your cheeks and you confusedly wiped them away. After realizing they were tears, you let them fall free, huddling on the floor. Her sweater stored your tears as you wept, the occasional hiccup jolting you. You flexed your jaw, the tears making your face uncomfortably sticky, and yawned loudly. A note shot through the door, and you frowned.

You picked it up, sniffling, and ripped it open.

‘Four hours before the witching time. Jericho’s cemetery’

You folded the note into your sweatpants pocket, sighing. God, why did you even indulge this anymore? She hurt you, and went you crawled back to her like a kicked puppy. Regardless, you shrugged off your gray sweatpants, opting for something more classy. You buttoned up your ripped jeans, anxiously biting your lip.

You didn’t bother changing out of her sweater, what’s it matter anyways? It was comfy and worked for you. You checked your phone, seeing you had about an hour until then.

The dorm door bursted open and Bianca came in holding two trays of food.

“Figured you haven’t had dinner yet. Come get your tray.”

“Thank you. Which one?”

“You’re right.”

“You’re fantastic.”

“I know.” She smiled, sitting down on your bed with you.

“She asked me out.”

Bianca tried to contain her spit take, some of it shooting out anyways. “You’re shitting me.”

You shook your head. “I mean I think so. It said something about meeting her at a cemetery.”

“Knowing Wednesday, it’s definitely a date.”

“Right then,” you tutted.

Bianca hesitated for a moment, her mouth dropping before closing. “Are you— are you gonna change out of her sweater, or…?”

“No.” You shifted in your feet, walking away to the bathroom. “It’s comfortable.”

Bianca snorted, following you. As you wetted your toothbrush, she started rambling.

“Wednesday literally cheated, are you sure you want to go back to that?”

With a mouth full of toothpaste an foam, you tilted her head up. “I uh ow! I ill oh her!”

With a disgruntled face, Bianca shook her head. “I have no idea what you just said.”

You spat into the sink, looking back to her. “You’re worse than the damn dentist.”

“Don’t avoid my question.”

You shoved the toothbrush back into your mouth, grinning. “Orry! Uh’ing mah feef!”

“You’re gross.” With that, Bianca walked out the the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

You continued getting ready, your nail polish practically gone at this point from the anxious chipping. You played with your hair a bit, trying a messy bun, then shaking it out, a pony tail, shaking that out too, before you grumbled angrily. You decided to just leave it as it was, not wanting to be frustrated any more than you were.

As you walked out the door, Bianca whistled. “You look fantastic.”

“I look like I just rolled out of bed. Shut up.”

She shrugged, smiling at you. “Only saying the truth.”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, sliding on a couple more rings.

You played with the new jewelry, twisting it back and forth.

“It’s almost eight.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head in shock. “I cant walk there in that ti—“

Your sentence was disrupted halfway through as Bianca dangled a pair of keys. “You were saying?”

The car roared to life, soon fizzing out to pure silence. Your jaw dropped, people used to have to yell at the top of their lungs over your engine. Now, someone could whisper in the back and you’d hear it clear as day. You moved the stick into reverse, gently pushing on the gas. It jerked backwards, and you stomped on the brakes.

Trying again, you slowly applied pressure, feeling the car gain speed fast. As you twisted the wheel, you looked at your dash, a review camera showing your surroundings. Once you’d gotten out of the parking slot, you pulled the sticky note off the center console, reading it.

‘Knew you’d need it. Careful with the gas, she shoots faster than a bullet. -Yours.’

You stuck the note back where it was, and shifted the stick into drive. At that time, a women’s voice blared through the car.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

You screamed, slamming on the brake.

“Who the fuck is that?” You panted out, eyes wide in alarm.

“I’m S.A.M.A.R.I.A, a program built by Ms. Addams for your aid.”

You took in a deep breath, still not used to the voice in your car. “She built a program?”

“Yes, for you. She figured you may need assistance when learning to drive this vehicle. That’s what I’ve been made for.”

You settled down, placing your hands back on the steering wheel.

“Would it ease your anxiety if I gave myself a face?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

You looked over to your dash, an upright ‘:)’ was plastered over it. Laughing, you gripped your steering wheel.

“I don’t suppose you can drive this car yourself, Sam?”

“Of course.”

You hands whipped away from the steering wheel as it twisted. “Holy shit! This is like, STARK technology!” You cried.

The car smoothly whipped out of Nevermore student parking lot, out the gates, and onto the winding road.

“Would you like to plug in your desired destination?”

“Uh, yeah, can you get me to Jericho’s cemetery?”

“Right away.”

The car took a sharp left, cutting on to a bikers path.

“OH FUCK! SAMARIA!”

You doubled checked your seat belt, letting your hands grip the arm rests afterwards. Clenching your jaw, you shut your eyes tight mumbling whatever you were thinking.

“Your heart rate has increased exponentially in the last fifty-seven seconds. How may I aid you?”

“You can stop driving in dirt paths, for one! And for two, maybe tell Wednesday I might be late.”

“Ms. Addams has already been alerted of your tardiness.”

“Great,” you spat, still clenching your jaw.

You watched in horror as the car didn’t slow down, about to crash into the cemetery’s gates.

“SAMARIA!” You yelled. Suddenly, the car jerked to a stop. Your eyes peeled open and you were barely an inch away from the lock.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed out, wiping sweat from your forehead.

The gates opened automatically, and the car slowly lurched forward. It cruised until it reached the parking lot, stopping in the middle.

“I hope your cruise was enjoyable.”

“Peachy.”

You exited the car, locking it in your way out, and headed into the cemetery.

Unfortunately, Jericho’s got a lot of dead people, so you were left pacing around hollering for her.

“Wednesday!”

You turned around, checking the horizon. It struck you then, that you forgot to bring a coat, and the wind nipped at you fiercely in retaliation.

With chattering teeth, you called out her name again. “Wednesday!”

“Behind you.”

You whipped backwards, stumbling a bit. Wednesday walked up to you, talking off her own coat. She stepped close to you, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“You’re going to get hypothermia.”

“So are you,” you protested.

“Perhaps, but I’ll enjoy it.”

You shook your head. “What’d you want to meet me here for?”

“You’ll see.” She took off the opposite direction, only turning back to gauge you.

As you walked side by side with her, your hand occasionally brushed against hers. The awkwardness of the situation brought you back to your first date with her. You took her out to Jericho’s library as a study date, it also was the first time you’d kissed. The memory made a red tint cover your cheeks, and you were glad you could blame it on the cold.

When your hands brushed again, Wednesday locked her pinky with yours. You gulped, looking down to her. She continued marching forward, not bothering to address it.

When your eyes left the side of her head, you were met with a white gazebo, bright with different sized candles. In the middle, black pedals surrounded a blanket placed in the center. You gasped slightly, faltering your step for a moment.

Wednesday tugged you forward, and under the threshold.

She looked up to you, allowing you a second to process everything.

“I’m aware people typically have to agree to dates, but I feared you’d shut me down if I’d stated my intentions.”

You swallowed harshly, the log in your throat not budging. “It’s beautiful.”

You looked around once again, not realizing Wednesday hadn’t taken her eyes off you. “It is,” she whispered.

You sat cross legged on the floor, still in awe.

“I hope the car was behaving.”

Oh, yeah, that. “You built an entire A.I system?”

Wednesday nodded, shrugging like it’s normal. “I built SAMARIA when I was ten, since then I’ve done upgrades on her. Only a couple months ago I completely reprogrammed her to fit a car. It was to be your Christmas gift, along with a new vehicle.”

You looked away from her, wringing out your hands. “Here I was thinking I’d get you a new bow for your cello.”

She hummed slightly, starting to open the basket. “It’s a great gift idea.”

“Nothing compared to a new A.I and a car,” you snorted.

“Anything from you, is better than anything else.”

Dejecting the butterflies in your stomach, you pulled up a snarky comment. “When you’d get so romantic?”

Wednesday sighed, pulling out sparkling cider. “In my quest to not become my mother, it seems I’ve become my father. Sickening displays of affection are all I want to show you now.”

You stuttered, not able to find the right words. “Oh.”

She nodded, cracking open the bottle. Carefully, Wednesday poured them into two glasses.

“Unless you’ve changed in thirty-six days, I believe this is still your favorite.”

“N—No, it still is. Thank you.” You took the glass from her, timidly smiling.

“How’d you set this all up?”

“Knocked out the guard whilst he was in his post, and pulled off petals from dyed flower.”

“You knocked out the guard?”

“Yes, no need to fret, the cameras have been disabled by Thing.”

“That’s not the point! The point is you assaulted an officer of the law!”

“You’re unable to rent our cemeteries anymore, quite the pity. It was the only way.”

Laughing, you set down your glass. “You are crazy, Wednesday Addams.”

“I’d go insane for you.”

You bashfully shook your head, snorting. Her hand locked with yours, and she squeezed slightly.

“I want you to know, even if you do not forgive me—“

You sighed, the weight of the situation crashing down on you.

“We—“

“Even if you do not forgive me, I will keep trying. I will not stop until I’ve earned your trust and love again.”

You tried to talk, but it was almost like you completely forgot how to. You gulped, looking into her eyes. Hoping the look on your face showed her just how much this meant to you, you squeezed her hand back. Wednesday looked at you like you were her whole world, and maybe in a sense, you might’ve been. If you were her world, she was your North Star because no matter what, you knew’d you’d always be stuck following her. The scary thing was, you didn’t think you’d want it any other way.

226 notes · View notes

dr-goatman · 11 months

Text

gods, will graham and hannibal are so codependent

hannibal saw that will wasnt on time for his appointment, so he looked visibly sad and hurt, a rarity. he locked his hands together to keep from calling him, and likely to try and soothe worry. he looked a tad confused why he was feeling these things AND THEN HE DROVE A FUCKING HOUR JUST TO SEE WILL, AT THE FUCKING FBI WHATEVER ITS CALLED hannibal needs will. he may not like that he needs will at first, but that doesnt change the fact that he does.

will graham went to fucking europe to find hannibal and discover his past. on the way he broke into hannibals childhood home, got held at gunpoint by chiyoh, hannibals kinda-sister [i love her btw], kissed her, got thrown off a train by her, then walked lord knows how long, INJURED, to civilization, and then continued on to search for hannibal, finding him, then eventually getting almost killed by him [again]. BUT it was particularly brutal this time, he literally like was getting a bonesaw taken to his fucking skull, he was gonna get his brain eaten

OH YEAH BUT IT WAS LITERALLY PAINLESS!!!! HE WAS DRUGGED OUT OF HIS MIND, LIKE, MASON VERGER, WHEN DRUGGED TO EAT HIS FACE, COULD FEEL IT ALL JUST NOT STOP HIMSELF OR RLLY REACT, WILL COULDNT FEEL IT AT ALL!!!!!

anyways, yet he returned to america with hannibal, then hannibal turned himself in after a bit just cuz will said he didnt wanna know where he was, what he was doing, etc. 3 yrs, will doesnt visit him in his 'jail' cell, [he lives in a glass cage thing in a mansion, wouldnt rlly call that a jail cell], after that 3 yrs, shit goes down w dolarhyde [love him btw] and will needs hannibal, desperately. u can tell hes been thinking of him this entire time yet wont even admit it to himself.

eventually shit goes down AGAIN and hannibal and will run away together, knowing damn well dolarhyde is after them. hannibal stand in between the window and will KNOWING dolarhyde is outside, just so he would take the shot, not will. they eventually fall off a cliff in each others arms, but according to the writers or someone, apparently they aint dead, which is shown in the last scene where bedelia is missing one of her legs, shes holding a fork in self defense and there are 2 other places set at the table, her leg as a main dish, she is being fed herself, which is just like what hannibal did to that one dude, starting with the leg[s]

except now will graham is along for the ride

[this is all ignoring SO much, such as hannibal always being will's first call when he needs help, and will being hannibals 'fascination' [see: obsession] so much so that since even before we meet bedelia, [who at the time was hannibal's therapist] she knows will graham by name and has been spoken to about him.

extensively.

to the point that she KNOWS he is hannibals obsession.

bedelia LITERALLY compared will to bluebeards last wife, and said shed prefer to had been the last. shes mildly jealous but so is will, and thats ok!]

[i love bedelia, btw, shes so awesome]

also as the series progresses we see hannibal, the extremely put together and posh man, become slowly more and more undone and relaxed

at the same time, it takes will, the extremely messy, frazzled and almost careless man, and it makes him more put together, he dresses nicer, looks more cleaned up and put together

he doesnt shake like an abused puppy, he is more snippy [see: bitchy]

and hes not sweating all the fucking time im so srs, there are so many shots of him just drenched in sweat and its honestly funny, its insane how much he sweats

39 notes · View notes

thotsforvillainrights · 2 years

Note

Hellooo hope you’re doing well lately! Could you write up a scenario with Kai, Koku and Tomo running late to work and they haven’t realized they’re all covered up in kissy marks 💋 from their s/o? 😘 Thanks I’m advance btw!!

(Ugh I adore stuff like this! Gives me the chance to fluster them. The fact that it’s all men in my current top 5 too? Oh my God, I’m gonna have fun with this one!)

[Smut Implied so be forewarned!]

~Kissy Marks~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

~Overhaul~

“Cut it lose. I’m not staying any longer than 10 more minutes Y/N.” Chisaki grumbled at you before rolling over on his side to stare. “Oh yeah? You said that 10 minutes ago so what is the truth here?” You teased him and he huffed. He’d been up earlier that morning trying to mentally prepare himself for this months meeting. Usually the Hassaikai meetings that happened in November and the following months up until March were always the longest. He doubted there was ever a man in the room that didn’t dread having to go to one...well aside from Pops, Tengai, and Nemoto of course. This morning he prepared a cup of coffee and sipped it while going over his notes. He returned to the bedroom to prepare a shower when you sat up and started that damned siren call of yours that he couldn’t resist. Next thing he knew he was caught up in your snare and he was not one to half-ass anything. So he catered to your naughty behavior for at least an hour. Now here you were, watching him try to convince you he wanted to get up and go to the meeting instead if being in the bed with his lover...YEAH RIGHT! It was the knocking at the door that ultimately sealed his fate as he heard Hari’s voice faintly call out. “Overhaul, the meeting begins in 30 minutes.” Kai groaned and slipped out of bed, trying his best to ignore the smirk you had plastered on your damn face. No doubt you were admiring your handy work all up and down his back. It was something he came to expect from intense love-making like that. What he didn’t come to consider were the marks on his neck he’d overlooked. Unfortunately for him, the others noticed from the moment he’d stepped into the room. If you think Rappa of all people would keep his mouth shut then you were sorely mistaken. “Aye boss, you don’t have to explain why you’re late anymore! We can see that shit for ourselves!” He pointed and began his boisterous laugh. Soon a few of the others followed, fearless of the damage their leader could do on them if he so pleased. Chisaki quickly looked in the nearest mirror to observe why he’d been the laughing stock of the meeting after only having been there for 2 minutes. “Damn it Y/N!” His cursing muffled by the loud roar of laughter disrupting the room. Even the old man was having a good chuckle or two off this! Luckily for him, his righthand men were able to settle the excitement for a little while (just long enough to get the important stuff out of the way). He’d be sure to have a little talk with you when he gets back to the bedroom...

~Trumpet~

“Baby please?” Soft whispers echoed in your ears as you felt his steady touch travelling along the length of your inner thighs, teasing just right where you wanted him. It was incredibly difficult to deny a man so tempting with a silver tongue to boot. You had to do what was best or else he might just skip work altogether and have you in the bedroom until the late evening. “No Hanabata, that’s enough.” You smiled before removing his hand from your thigh. He pouted and you tried not to laugh. “Koku you know being present for work is important because you told me yourself just last night over dinner! Get up and put your clothes on and go before you end up being any later than you already are.” You softly scolded him, gently reaching up and cupping along his cheek. He groaned a soft complaint. “But I’m the boss technically. I can just skip a day or two. Besides, I told you all that stuff last night before I had you right where I wanted you. Can’t we just go a little longer baby? Just one more round? I swear I’ll make it worth your while~” You feel his hands beginning to travel along the expanse of your skin once again. You can also see the scheming look in his eyes. It won’t be long before he tries to use his quirk on you. You’ve got to work quickly and decide to cut him a deal. “Okay how about this then, Mr. Politician. You go to work and finish out the full day, and when you come home we can carry out what we got started on last night hmm? Sound like a good idea?” Hanabata’s smile spread across his face as he stared at you with half-lidded lustful eyes. “You better make good on that promise baby.” You chuckle before kissing the tip of his nose. “You know I will. Now get up and leave.” You thump his forehead and he jolts up with a laugh. With newfound energy the man gets ready for the day: shower, shave, coffee, and of course a goodbye kiss on the lips for you before he’s out the door and on his way to work. Although he arrives late to the office, no one dares question him until someone speaks up about something else. “Uhhh...Mr. Hanabata sir? What are those marks on your neck?” He tilts his head in confusion. “Marks?” He proceeds to his personal bathroom and his eyes widen for a moment as he surveys the damage on his neck. You sure did a number on him last night. Ultimately he shrugs it off and ignores the burning in his cheeks every time he has to step out of his office for the day. He’s reverted to wrapping the grey scarf he sports usually on his shoulders, now around his neck. All of this embarrassment doesn’t really matter since the end of the day signals a chance for him to get back at you with some marking of his own~

~Skeptic~

If it wasn’t the sound of the closet door being closed and opened loudly that woke you up, then it was definitely the pile of clothes dumped on top of you as Skeptic frantically searched the room for his favorite turtleneck. “Whoa, what the fuck? What’s going on Tomoyasu?” You question as you try to push some of the clothes to the side. He quickly turns and stares daggers at you, his hair a near rat’s nest atop his head. “I’m late and it’s all your fault!” He fusses before continuing to dig for his clothing. You laugh in disbelief. “Whoa wait a minute...my fault? How exactly is it my fault that you’re late for work?” You cross your arms and watch him turn again and glare once more. “It’s your fault and you exactly why, what with your damn temptress activity you decided to spring on me. You...you...you minx!” You laugh as he finally settled on a black button up shirt and some pants to match. He rushes into the bathroom and begins detangling his hair. You get out of bed and follow behind, settling to stand at the doorway and watch him. “It’s not my fault I’m hot and you couldn’t resist me. Besides, that was last night! I had nothing to do with you being late this morning.” You continue to defend yourself. He stares at you from the mirror as he continues brushing his hair quickly. “It’s because of you doing what you did that caused me to OVERSLEEP and miss my alarms!” You thought about it for a second as he finished up his hair and began slipping into his clothes. “Oh! So good I put you to sleep eh?~” You teased him and he ignored it. “Out of my way, it’s not going to work again!” He lightly pushed past you and slipped on his shoes by the front door. He quickly leaves, slamming the door behind him before coming back inside, giving you a kiss and then leaving back out again for good. Being late wasn’t so bad as a board member. He’d never really stepped on the edge as often so it was easy to brush under the rug. What made his work day rough was the fact that he didn’t have his usual turtle neck...which meant his neck was far more exposed in the button-up than usual. It also meant his colleagues could clearly see the marks lining his neck that he was too frazzled this morning to notice himself. He cursed your name to hell and back when he noticed. He’d locked himself in his office and tried to not think about whether or not the higher ups (the CEO) had caught a glimpse of your little gift from your steamy escapades last night. All of the anger did no good toward purging his mind of the thought of you last night and just how much he wanted it again. Maybe he could punish you for your negligence?

#smut?#i had so much fun writing this #kai chisaki #kai chisaki x reader #overhaul #koku hanabata #trumpet bnha #tomoyasu chikazoku x reader #tomoyasu chikazoku #skeptic bnha #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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chaoticcmesss · 2 years

Text

My mistakes

Izuku Midoriya x y/n

y/n is gender neutral

Warning: angst, OOC Deku, self-doubt, mention of cheating, talking bad of one's self, sadness, a tiny sprinkle of toxic, little bit of gaslighting

Words; 1.7k

part 1 | part 2

*My heart hurts so much while writing this, so I'm sorry in advance* *also my writing sucks a*s and it hasn't been checked at all yet* *i will update when I’ve reread it cause it’s sh*t*

☼this divider was made by me btw☼

I've always wondered what it's like to have someone beg for you to stay in their life. Someone who would do anything just to get you back after a stupid argument.

My whole life I begged for someone to stay by my side so I wouldn't be alone.

I begged my mom to remain yet she left without a care in the world with her new family.

I begged my dad to stay with me yet he didn't even bat an eye towards my direction as he drove off with his mistress, never to be seen or heard from again.

I begged my siblings to stay by my side when my life went downhill, yet they just laughed at me and made sure to never contacted me again only when they need help.

But once I finally found him, the Izuku Midoriya. My life changed for the better with him by my side. He has slowly introduced me to his group of friends, especially his childhood and best friend, Dynamite and Shoto, they are all very nice and have interesting stories to tell. I knew that I now have people in my life that won't ever hurt me. Dynamight and I became very close with one another as we worked on several cases together and to be honest, we make an amazing duo. Same with Shoto, even though he doesn't really show his emotions that often, it's nice to have a logical conscious around.

Izuku and I have been together for 3 years ever since and nothing would ever come between us, or so I thought.

Our relationship slowly started to change for the worse, he would come home, give me a peck on the cheek and go to his office. He wouldn't even stay in the room with me unless it was necessary. He is always cooped up on his laptop doing the reports and important documents even at home. I don't think he realised that there was a sudden change in his moods or the way he’d come home smelling different. Of course, I’d notice the small details. I'd usually message Dynamight or Shoto on how he is during work and to keep me updated if anything happened.

Yes, I know that being a hero is very hard and tiring but so am I, I do as much hero work as him every day and night, and I made sure that I had time to welcome him back home, I made sure he ate and slept even with a hectic schedule.

But I felt like he slowly forgot about me, about us and what we have been through together.

Does he still love me?

Why is he still with me?

Does he have someone else?

Is he cheating on me with Uravity? (I'm sorry to uravity fans- lol I'm not sorry HA!)

I let these thoughts run around in my head as tears run down my face, maybe I’m just overreacting. Yeah. I'm just overreacting.

Looking at the hanging clock I saw that it was 7 pm, he is probably making his way back home. I don't know what to do with myself.

Do I confront him?

Do I just ignore it?

What do I do?

Taking a quick breather I heard the door open with a familiar jingle of keys and a sigh “y/n I'm home” says the man who I can't even recognise anymore.

It's always been a nickname.

“Babe”

“Honey”

“Sweetheart”

“Love”

But it was just “y/n”

What happened to the man I fell in love with?

What happened to the man that I gave my heart to?

What happened to my Izuku that held my face as he proclaimed his love for me?

What happened to MY izuku?

“y/n? Are you okay?” Izuku says as he kneels to catch my gaze as he held my knees.

“y/n?”

I knew something was wrong.

Please. Please, God. Anyone. Anyone who’s listening. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please…

Slowly looking up to meet his gaze, I ask the one question that I know will break me, “are we okay izuku?” as I saw his features go from a warm yet soft look to shock and disbelief.

“What brought this up?” he asked like I'm some kind of idiot.

“Do you still love me like you did when we first got together? Do you even know when our anniversary was? Do you even remember your s/o? Do you still love me?” looking down at my lap, whispering all the questions eating me alive, wanting to find the answers I wanted to hear from him yet. Nothing. Nothing but silence from him.

“Izuku, please. I don't want to stay in this relationship when it's clear to me that you don't. I don't want- I don't want to be at home watching the news on how you and another hero would look good together, I don't want to be at home while watching you realise that you've fallen in love with someone else, I don’t want to be at home while you forget about me and everything we’ve been through. So please Midorya. Tell me what's happening so we can either fix what's left of us or I let you go”

I knew what his answer would be. All these years being together, I knew him like the back of my hand. I knew this silence all too well.

Izu- no its Midoriya now. It always had been Midoriya, never Izuku. Never my Izuku.

I pull out my phone and text Tsuki to come to get me from Midorya’s place.

“God fucking damnit, I-” standing from my seat to walk over to our bedroom to pack I felt him wrap his arms around my waist as he buried his face into my stomach, feeling the tears soak through my shirt.

“I'm sorry babe, please don't go. Please stay. Please. She was just a fling nothing else! Please stay with me. I need you” he begged me to stay, and he finally begged me to stay. But for what? For him? For us? What's left of us?

If I didn't know better, I would've agreed with him and stayed but now, things are different. This wasn't the man I wanted to have a future with. This wasn’t the man who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Not anymore. All I see in front of me was a man that I don't recognise, a man who I was in a relationship with who was no longer the man I fell in love with, all I see is a lying, cheating man who broke my heart, stringing me along until he encounters “someone else”. Someone “better”

The man that I gave my heart to, so long ago was replaced with a man who didn't care for me at all, a man who would leave me all broken with nothing but a shattered heart.

I deserve to be happy, I deserve all the good things in life and make sure he goes through the same pain I went through.

I knew the longer I stayed in this apartment the faster I want to leave.

I removed his arms around me and sped walked to the bedroom locking the door and packing as much as I could fit in my suitcase.

I knew that there was no us, there was no more love in this relationship.

I unlocked the door to see him on the couch, covering his eyes as tears descended from them.

“Go be with Uravity, since you've always gone to her behind my back Midoriya” stating that I knew he had been cheating on me with her, yes I'm sad about being cheated on but at least I made it to the top 5 heroes without sleeping with the judges.

Hearing knocking on the door I knew it was Tsuki so I hurriedly rush towards the door to open it. Turning back to face Midoriya “You might want to get tested for any STDs considering that your side piece sleeps with a LOT of people. OH and I’ll grab my stuff on Thursday” Tsuki grabs my suitcase for me and wraps his arm around me, like a comfortable, muscular shield as we leave this dreaded apartment. Once we left the apartment, all the tears I'd held back rushed to the surface as I sat down in Tsuki's car, weeping my heart out for the love that I had lost, in his arms keeping me from any danger. My heart hurts so much. Knowing that I was easily replaced.

Katsuki’s POV:

My heart hurts for them, but I knew how this all felt. Watching the love of your life fall in love with someone else who doesn't deserve them at all and watching them get broken hurts so fuckin’ much.

I didn't care how many people were watching us in the car park, all I wanted to do was hold them in my arms and keep them protected from anything that could potentially harm them.

“Let's go home idiot” releasing them from my arms as I secure their seatbelt and put mine on, we headed out to my apartment where they’ll stay for however long it'll take for them to heal even if it takes years. I’ll always be by their side.

“Thank you, Katsu” they whispers to me as they slowly drifted off to sleep

“You’re welcome… dumbass… my dumbass. I’ve waited 3 fuckin’ years for you, I guess I can wait for a couple more” I mumbled looking back to them knowing that they won’t hear me.

Third’s POV:

But little does Katsuki know, y/n heard what he said and couldn’t believe that all this time. Katsuki fuckin’ Bakugou was in love with them. But decided it wasn't the right time or day to say anything after the whole Midorya situation. I guess time will tell when both Katuski and Y/n realise their true feeling.

-Meanwhile-

Midoriya sat in his apartment, thinking of ways to get his precious y/n back into his arms. Knowing that if they don’t come back. He’ll just force his way to get y/n back in any possible way.

The end?

#katsuki bakugo mha #mha bakugou #mha deku #bnha deku #deku x you #angst #deku angst #deku and kacchan #kacchan #izuku x reader #izuku angst #deku midoriya #ew yuck #i hate it #oh well #villan deku #beginning of villan deku

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winderlylandchime · 11 months

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Just want to send you guys little moments that have happened in the last few days that for sure wouldn’t have without qaf. Just in case if you guys thought that maybe he has even one normal day/moment in his life. I am here to show you that you’re wrong. Anyway:

Our mom called him like 4 times which he didn’t answer. Finally when he called her back, she asked why didn’t he answer before to which he said ‘sorry mom, i was playing with Brian’ and my mom went dead silent and had the most scared look on her face and then just slowly went ‘please, please say you mean the cat.’

He went on a walk with the neighbor that watched qaf and he mentioned to him that he saw Gale on Criminal Minds. And the guy, i guess told him that Gale was on Desperate Housewives and the next thing I see out the window is a grown man trying to speed walk back home. And he barges in and goes ‘we gotta watch Desperate Housewives! Right now! Brian is there!’ And when I told him that he’s only in a few episodes in a later season, he went ‘fuck. So now I gotta watch that whole thing for a bit of Brian? That’s rude but I guess I gotta do what I gotta do’ so now he put DH on his watch list next.

Then he had a call with his therapist and I don’t know what they talked about but whatever it was, it lead to him bursting into my room going ‘do YOU think Brian would fuck me if given the chance?’ We got into an argument because I refused to answer. I mean what do i even say to that? But also i want to know what he asked his therapist with the way he emphasized the word ‘you’.

I was in a “meeting” (more like a catch up) like 2 days ago with my boss and a coworker (who thankfully have met my brother and are both cool) when this dude burst into my office to ask ‘when do you think Brian fell in love?’ He thinks it was before prom, he can’t make his mind up between 1x16, 1x18 or 1x20 he wants to say it was sooner but he doesn’t think so. But he thinks prom solidified it, which btw he said all that while still in the room and then when he noticed my laptop, he very, very slowly walked backwards and closed the door behind him.

Then I went to our local store (it’s like a tiny corner store or whatever) and when I was at the check out ready to pay, the guy working there goes ‘hey, i thought you only had one brother?’ And i confirm that yes, i onky got one, thank god. And then he goes ‘so who the fuck are Brian and Justin?’ And i felt like a deer caught in headlights. Turns out he’s been talking about them like they’re normal people, so the poor guy thought Justin was our little brother and Brian is his boyfriend/my brothers friend.

And my all time favorite one this week was the one that even made our mom laugh so hard she cried: an old lady that went to PT with him (after pt they have him on like some lasers or whatever to help the pain, so he’s laying on one of the beds and she’s on the other) she has heard him talk about Brian to the nurse(!!!) so many times that she actually thought Brian was his boyfriend. And he didn’t even realize it until she left her last session yesterday and before she left she went ‘sweetheart, leave that man, you deserve much better than what he gives you plus by the sound of it, he’s still hung up on his ex’ and my dumb brother sighed and went ‘yeah, i know- wait what’ and she waved and left. He couldn’t figure out if he gave off a certain vibe or was it how he talked/moved and she was just being a little ignorant about it or if all this Brian talk made an old lady think he’s gay. And when I didn’t answer bc idk what to say, he got into an argument with me again because and I quote ‘how dare you not know if I’m gay or not to other people.’ Oh and he texted our mom ‘do I seem gay?’ But he fucked up and wrote ‘seam’ so it changed the whole thing to ‘Am i gay?’ Mom’s response was ‘i don’t know hunny, maybe. Who knows at this point anymore’ it took him TWO HOURS to realize the typo/autocorrect and by then it was too late to fix it so he just gave up.

So i’d say living with my brother at the hight of his Qaf obsession has been going great.

Dear sweet anon! This has made me laugh so hard. Your brother is really in the mix of it all, isn't he?

my mom went dead silent and had the most scared look on her face and then just slowly went ‘please, please say you mean the cat.’ LOL. Because let's not have an adult man with a new imaginary friend who's a character on a long ago TV show.

I am so terrified of what he asked his therapist. I wish your brother was my client because I would just discuss the show for a session and get paid but now I'm imagining this happening to a therapist who has never seen QAF and how confusing it must be and how this therapist is probably consulting with other therapists to figure out how much to indulge this. (Btw has QAF come up in my own therapy? Yes, yes it has.)

As for when Brian fell in love - that is such a good question. I think I had an anon who asked me that. I think there's a meta post in your brother that is dying to be posted to tumblr.

Also everyone thinking Brian and Justin are other brothers or your brother's boyfriend or... the fact that your brother is not prefacing all of this with "this is a tv show and these are characters on the show" is just fandom brain. And it's hilarious. And the little old lady telling him to leave Brian? DEAD.

Mom’s response was ‘i don’t know hunny, maybe. Who knows at this point anymore’ is a great response to "am I gay" but also brother not realizing the typo/autocorrect is killing me.

You are a saint. Thank you for your service. This is incredible.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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baggythebag · 2 years

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nethervillage mess chap 1

hi hi hi this is baggy and this is my first fic here :3 hope you enjoy it<;33

warnings: cursing,violence,death

3rd perso POV:

she woke up from her 34min sleep that's all she get for a couple of days sadly,but she doesn't mind since it make her more awake and ready for a fight,just in case, she forced her legs to move and get out of bed she went to the dirty bathroom the old owners didnt bother to take care of it one bit 'but who is she to blame them' though to her self .looking at her self in the mirror, sad,broken,tired ,and lonley thats what you will see on her face. ''Farah T.M. '' thats the young women's name , but people call them the angry shadow ….she had been hiding in this old building since the enemy is looking for her, and got stuck for 4 years in this disgusting place ,her11 years old self didnt find another home,but she would rather be here than under his control and none stopping abuse.

If you didnt know-which U DONT-this woman had been an agent for this man..lets call him Mr.S…., where she killed , poisoned,and kidnapped targets at the age of 9.we know it seem impossible but they had a power that made them seem like a strong human ,she did her job with cold eyes ,my life wasn't good before either: abusive father and a dump but kind mother wasn't the best ship that is ,so i ran,and i was forced to the join the KNE(KidNightEater)and today she'll try and escape this hell of a place she had to put a plan. this city known as nethervillage or the zombie land , is the most least safe place it's almost on an apocalypse, and its -Ohio like- state is going down with the lead of S. she stepped out the window with a backpack ready to jump out ,she gave a little confidence to her self , saying:'' the second i take a step out my life will take a new page a new beginning,a new-'' .gun shots.

Unknown POV:

'' target Farah #367 down ''she talked into the mic and turned my back and i calmly walked away from the body she was me , that Farah was me..in another universe of course! . ''I want a smoothie''Farah talked to herself'' I need to get the fuck out of here first tho-''

3rd person POV(againn)

with that being said she heard a growling noise behind her , she turned to her back and there it was a zombie running full speed at her, the strong women panicked and ran as fast as possible DONT GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS!'' she shouts while running but quickly corrected herself ''NO WAIT, THEY DO-'' .after the long run our hero ran out of ideas so she grabbed her gun ''I forgot I had this thing on me, damn'' she stopped and kneed down, pointing her bloody gun at the hungry zombie's eyes, shooting them ''enjoy being a blind little girl, or boy, or person don't care''. she took her cigarette out burning the tip of it and took a breath, she had to relax somehow, this was too tiring for her ''god that was awful, im late again'' .shadow arrived at the KNA base and put her clown costume on '' this clown wig is itchy can i get another'' asked the 15 years old girl hoping for something more comfortable, but the staff just ignored her like she was a crazy person talking to herself, Farah -angry and pissed- walked through the teleporting door they used to do their missions this time she had to do the ultimate task kidnap her old self they name them the o.children Farah exited the door and looked around carefully to not draw attention to herself, but she failed by stepping on a broken bottle of booze ''h-hmm…'' the bed twitched announcing that she woke that person.

welp this is the end for now :3 but i'll post chap 2 soon

SEE Y'ALL <;33 btw this is a little image of what Farah look like hehe

made with picrew

#story #post #ocstory #nethervillage #nethervillagemess #mystory #originalstory #Farah T.M.#farah #gore #violence #death #killing #fanfic #original character

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uncouth-the-fifth · 2 years

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(you are a) natural, baby - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Virgin!Sam Winchester/AFAB!Reader (vaguely s1 or 2) Tags/Warnings: blowjobs, deepthroating, Impala sex, whiny/submissive Sam (with hints of the opposite). nothing too insane. yk the deal. Word Count: 11034 Notes: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. i've been. thinking about sam lately. and i MAY or may not have had the most vivid wet dream of my life... which may or may not have inspired this slightly........... enjoy! there will be a sequel btw ;) for plot's sake, yes, Sam is 23 and is still a virgin 🍾 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

You couldn't believe your luck.

You notched the car into park, lips parted in disbelief. Holy shit. Rain bore down on the car from all sides, making an already dark night impossible to walk in, nevermind drive. Baby—or the Impala, you corrected yourself, since Sam always poked fun at you for picking up Dean's little nickname—had puttered out her last huff of warm air a few miles back. That left at least another hour’s worth of driving until you were back to Dean, who was waiting back where your present job was. There was no way you could get back in this weather. It'd be past midnight soon anyway, so…

You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

The universe had done everything short of smashing you together like kissing barbies. In this week alone, the messy line of feelings between you and Sam had been tested at least a hundred times. It was obscene. Ever since Sam's twenty-third birthday, all the forces of nature had woken to remind you at every turn how stupid horny you were for him. Sam was no longer the beanpole you could easily throw while sparring; there was a man in your passenger’s seat, a good deal taller than you on miles and miles of leg, with handsome, veiny arms and a lap made for sitting in. Your childhood crush had been nursed so long that it'd grown into love. But now that you were a twenty-five-year-old, full-time hunter, there was little room for a childhood novelty. You had instead made space for a covetous, needy desire that the universe loved to throw in your face.

Monday. Sam had helped Dean out with one of the less-than-junk cars in Bobby's yard, bent up under the bonnet, sweat and grime making his tee cling to the landscape of his back. And Jesus, what a landscape it was… Sloped and firm with experienced, long-developed muscle. Tuesday. Dean got on the subject of blowjobs, and Sam immediately got off the subject. Significantly, you learned he's never had one. Your mouth watered just sitting next to him. Wednesday. You risked using the last towels in the pile for your shower, each just big enough to close and cover your modesty—if you don’t stand up straight. Sam caught you coming out of said shower. He looked, looked some more, and you sniped at him for it around the saliva building in your mouth. All you wanted to do was claw his jeans around his ankles and blow him until he forgot his name. Sam lingered like he wanted the exact same thing, and both of you pretended to ignore the tent in his pants. Thursday. Sam coached you in long-bowing. You stood just inches apart in an empty field, Sam's shoes between your in the grass, and you fucked up every damn shot because Sam's massive hands were on your waist and your hips and in your belt-loops. He'd lean in until he was almost kissing the shell of your ear and say, S’ alright. Just focus on your footing. You're doing great, even though you hadn't hit a single target. Friday. You, him and Dean left for a North Dakota case. You had to share a bed with one of the boys, and Sam reminded you what sharing meant the whole night, huffing soft moaning breaths against the back of your neck in his sleep.

You resist the urge to clamp your thighs together. It'd been freezing cold in your room and you’d been sharing beds since you were young; to have just your backs pressed together was impressive. At one point, you turned over and Sam stretched back to meet you, his warm spine flush to your chest without hesitation, flaying you instantly. He’d seeped back into the mattress as content as could be. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his floppy hair, or caress the smooth strip of flesh that the seam of his shirt didn't cover. You failed at the first—but to be fair, Sam's hair was in your face and it was annoying you and you had to be close, because the room was so cold. And your hand just ended up there. And then it ended up under his shirt, your nails stroking his stomach, because Sam was a tease who'd dragged your arm around him in the first place. He'd been shaking, it was so cold. You couldn't just let him freeze. Regardless, it was hard to say no to him when he was smoothing your palm against his ribs like that.

“Think we can make a run to get the blankets from the trunk?” Sam invited. “I can do it if you give me the keys.”

You wanted to say more to that, but you settled instead on taking the keys out of the Impala and dropping them in Sam’s waiting hand. “Thank you,” you murmured, and Sam bobbed his head once before braving the weather.

He was gone for less than a minute, but the clinging silence that rang in your ears could’ve gone on forever. The rain pounded across the car with a vendetta, plunking off the metal and hammering over your empty parking lot just as hard. It raced down the glass fast enough to make the outside world a shimmering blue mirage. Sam’s figure was a darker silhouette closer to the glass, and you busied yourself putting a sweater on as he dove inside.

“Dammit,” Sam cursed. He knew better than to shake his hair out on Dean’s good leather, so he tossed down the blankets in between you—and there was a generous gap—to hunt around the backseat for a towel. The amber streetlights gave you just one glimpse of Sam’s rain-streaked face. It shouldn’t have flushed your belly with want as much as it did, but that’s half the reason you were in this mess.

“S’ bad out there,” you said, obviously. Sam agreed with a hum, and together you sorted yourselves for relaxing before you slept.

Before, you’d had the car on and the heater going, so you were mostly okay with your jackets tossed in the backseat. Sam had on a tee and a moss-colored sweater to keep him warm, and you had the thought of his firm muscle underneath those layers to keep you warm. Though more cold had seeped back into the Impala, you didn’t put on your jacket, toeing off your boots in the footwell. You piled on your blankets and curled up against the seat, Sam doing the same. He hadn’t put his jacket on either.

You shared a glance. Well, it was more like Sam was already looking at you and you caught him, flushing up to your ears. “There’s no way we won’t make it there til morning,” he said, “I’ll text Dean.”

“Good idea,” you agreed. You brought your legs closer to your chest, bumping Sam’s thigh with a stray foot. To your surprise, he glanced up at you at the contact, and again you found one of his coy glances. You couldn’t believe it. Was he...?

All four burners in your body flicked onto a simmer at the same time. You bit your lip, taking him in as he was illuminated by his phone’s screen, wet twisting curls of hair in his eyes. “S’ okay. I don’t think Dean will care, with how slow this case is going. Though I can guess why you’re so eager to get back,” you tested the waters with a sly smile. “That witness—Miss Checknik, she was really aiming to get you alone, huh?”

Sam was still raw from Dean pressing his buttons on this, so he was shier than usual when he mumbled, “It’s… not like that… I’ve never even done that before.”

“What?” you blurted. “Had sex?”

Sam’s gaze snapped up to yours. Around you the rain roared, but you still caught his subtle hitch of breath. His pause went on for another telling amount of time, until Sam’s ears were red too. “...It’s not like you have either,” he muttered.

This had to be on purpose. You tossed an arm over the back of the seat, knuckles against your cheek and a growing, sly smile on your face.

Sam sat up. “You’re kidding. Really?”

You slouched, huffing. “What, is that a surprise or something?”

“No,” Sam spoke a little too quickly, like he’d been thinking about it. He swallowed. “No, not at all. I was just…”

You wet your lips and let your eyes drift over him. Sam sat stiff in your passenger's seat, legs crossed a little too tightly, his hands folded together over his lap, hiding a building, jealous hard-on. A muscle jumped in his neck. The shivery warmth that reigned over you every time Sam entered the room conquered you again, watching him squirm, and you couldn't help but do the math. You could… you could make an offer. If he said no, that was fine. All you’d have to do was endure a night's sleep in the car with him then a few awkward days afterward—but you and Sam had done that dance a hundred times before, after kissing for spin-the-bottle or getting caught lusting after each other, so maybe this was it. This week had been filled with omens.

You went all in.

“We travel a lot and it relieves stress, so… I’ve picked up a few dates. Bar-flings, heat-of-the-moment stuff with hunters, every once in a while.”

You risked a glance at him through your lashes. Sam had inched closer to listen, just enough for you to notice, and was clearly trying to sculpt his face into something less interested—but his eyes were glazed and his attention was rapt. You had him right on the hook.

Sam swallowed. His voice was thick with arousal. “I, um, didn't know that was your thing.”

You shrugged, “I don’t enjoy it as much as Dean does, but yeah. The guys I pick up, I mean—they’re okay. Most can't find their way around a bra, never mind… well, y’know. You get what you can get. But the other parts, the fun parts of sex…” Even you were blushing at how dirty your smile felt. “I'm real lucky, Sam. Most girls don't get off making their partners happy, but I do. It's… made me real good.” You twisted so your chest was pushed toward him, feeling yourself ache in your jeans. You hushed coyly: “I’m told I’m a real natural with my mouth.”

“Really.” Sam repeated. He sputtered out a half-hearted chuckle. His cheeks had gone all cute and ruddy with a blush, exposing the lighter moles on his face.

“Really,” you promised.

The look on Sam's face went beyond teasing, now. You’d told yourself you were just messing around with him, but Sam was twitching in his seat, suddenly unable to sit right, and all the years of play-flirting had apparently stacked too high. Something hot and magnetic had brought you closer and closer together in the Impala’s front seat. Sam was frozen like he wanted to crawl out into the rain and disappear—always so shy, so easy—but something else rooted him to the spot this time. One more motion and you could close that measly gap blazing between you, get his skin pressed firmly to yours. Your arms and back and belly crawled with a phantom itch, and Sam's hands looked so perfect and big that you knew they could fix that feeling. Your mouth felt wet and lonely. Sam's was right there, panting as he waited for you to do something.

“Have you really never had sex before?” You filled Sam's flushed silence. You scrutinized him, brows furrowed with sympathy. “Not even a blowjob?”

Sam's whole body hitched like a slow to start engine at the word. He temporarily forgot himself, choking on his breath and roaming his sweaty palms across his thighs—uncovering, for just an instant, the outline of something firm and big in his jeans.

Still, Sam's eyes couldn't shake yours.

“Um, no,” Sam admitted. “Never had t-the… opportunity, I guess. Or the right person.”

“Would you?” You scrambled to let the words loose, then resettled in your seat, lounging back and stifling your excitement. Sam's dick. Sam's big, virgin dick in your mouth. “If the right person…” you gestured vaguely, like this was still at all a hypothetical, “gave you the opportunity?”

It took Sam a second, eyes flickering fast over your face beneath his bangs, but eventually, he gave a single short nod.

A nuclear reactor’s worth of heat sizzled up from your toes. It bubbled out of you in a pleased, purring sigh, and you could barely suppress your grin, your butterflies, your nervousness, when you crawled into the cold space beside him on the bench. You leaned in slow by his ear. Your nails played across his thudding pulse, his taut neck, spurring Sam’s breaths into gasps. At an agonizing pace, you dragged your soft nails behind his ear, to the tingling nape of Sam's neck, and relished in the feel of his flesh like a vampire as you stroked him there. The blunts of your nails scratched gently at his hairline. Sam squeezed out a soft moaning sigh, so sweet and trusting that you closed your eyes to soak in it all the way.

After a few strokes of your nails to Sam's shivering skin, you fanned your warm breath down his shuddering collar and barely kept yourself from moaning in his ear: “I’m real smart with my mouth, Sammy… I could make your first time good for you. Better n’ good, even.”

He sat there in utter disbelief. Sam breathed hard, and now that your hand was on him, his squirming had stopped. After a deep, weighing pause, Sam removed his hands from his lap and slid them down to his knees instead, tasting the growing appetite in his mouth.

“...What would it feel like?” The rasp in his voice made you instantly wet.

You flushed. “You want me to describe it to you?”

Sam gave a shy shrug of his shoulders, playing innocent, but that clever smile of his had been haunting you all week. He knew precisely what he was doing. “Never had one,” Sam reminded.

The car was suddenly boiling. You had kicked off your blanket a long time ago, and so had Sam, which left you in layers that neither of you wanted anymore.

“Well,” you breathed out, amused. You gave yourself room to undo your coat, and Sam hung on every motion, making each exposed inch of you feel needy and overheated. “I really only know it from the giver's point of view, but, um, it's really fun for guys. I'm sure you've heard other men talk about it before. Unwinds your whole body and blows your mind, done right,” you talked as you shed your coat. “If they made it sound easy to give a good blowjob, Sam—it’s not. You have to know what you're doing, how to read your partner… know what they like… luckily for you,” you hummed, “I've never had a complaint.”

Sam nodded after nearly everything you said, unsure where to settle his hands or what to say. He looked more demure than you’d ever seen him, and it was so cute to you it was almost unbearable. You could imagine him making that exact face at you with his wet dick pushing into the inside of your cheek—all bashful but desperate, hinged on your every word, your every lick. The thought of all the pretty sounds he'd make when you blew him left you on sensory overload, and the only thing that would fix it was Sam kissing you breathless.

It struck you that Sam was really gonna let you do this for him, after years of him caring too much about you to let you take care of him. You were left with a peculiar rush; Sam trusted you.

“Blowjobs are… all the good bits of kissing and jerking off put together,” you explained. You settled back where you’d been before, hanging on Sam's shoulder and talking filthy in his ear as he quivered with want. This time your nails drew circles on his collar, and Sam surprised you by squeezing his hand around your thigh to steady himself. You could've cum on the spot. A flood of heat burned down your gut and throbbed between your legs, soaking your underwear clean through.

You’d never stopped looking at each other, but your faces were closer than ever and the eye contact felt explosive. It was dark but for the streetlight, and quiet but for the endless rain, both aspects of life you saw every day—monsters in the dark and a storm banging on the car. But with Sam there, these everyday mundanes felt… romantic. Passionate, like the movies. His eyes were this beautiful, soft fawn brown. You couldn't wait to see that slip of color admire you from between Sam's thighs.

“The girl, she’ll…” your mouth flooded with drool. “I’ll get down on my knees for you,” you corrected, boldly.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you rasped. “And I'll get nice and comfy there, because I'm gonna waste as much time on you as I can…”

Your hand graduated into his hair again, since Sam forgot how to breathe each time you did it, and with it occupied you lingered on his face. Sam looked piss-drunk with lust; his head was on a swivel, lolling in whatever direction you went, his lashes fluttering low on red-patched cheeks. “I'm gonna take my time getting your pants off, y’know, tickling your legs.” A particularly dirty thought occurred to you, and it must've shown on your face because Sam's parted lips opened further. “Maybe, if you wanted, I could do this little trick I learned with my teeth… open your fly that way. You want that?”

Sam's eyes flicked down to your mouth, thinking. “I do,” he bobbed his head, “I really do.”

“Okay.” You pet Sam's chest, and coupled with the attention of your nails in his hair, a moan seeped out of him, vibrating somewhere deep under your hand. You grinned a shark’s grin. “...Then I'd look at you like that, cause’ that's what I've been dying to do for ages, see you all hard for me and nobody else. You might kill me cause’ you're so beautiful, Sam. And I'd kiss you everywhere I could… all over your thighs, your hips, the muscles in your stomach, your dick… your cock.” A whine jumped out of Sam's throat. Just the word made your throat feel open. “When you're squirming and begging for me to pull you out, I'll take off your boxer briefs, too, the blue ones I know you're wearing—” You’d seen him in them that morning, when he'd crossed his arms and his shirt had rucked up enough to flash some belly. Sam huffed an embarrassed laugh, and you kept going. “I know exactly what I'll do when your boxers are off, cause’ I've been waiting years for it. M’ gonna take your dick in my hand and just admire it, feel how big it is, imagine what it'll be like inside me—” Sam cursed aloud at that, “—inside my warm, wet mouth. I've been imagining what it looks and feels like for so long, Sammy, I think I deserve to see the real deal. Don't you think?”

You ran a finger along Sam's collarbone, and he rolled into it, chasing the slightest touch of your hand regardless if it was on his dick or not. You hadn't even drifted below his belt yet, and Sam was still arching into your touch like it would make him cum. He nodded mindlessly, sweat and rain making his hair cling to his face. “God,” he swore. “You do, ____—you d’serve it so much… so much…”

You cupped Sam's sweaty, tacky jaw, and he sighed like you’d rubbed him through his jeans. You resisted the urge to do just that, asking, “Can I have a kiss, Sammy?”

Sam peeled himself off the seat and rolled into your arms. The hand on your thigh was joined by a second, bracing his huge, sturdy palms on your legs in a way that made you grateful you weren't balancing on them, and with his face nestled in your hands and his eyes all dewy for you, Sam kissed you. You knew that that was it—every time you found your way to a kiss with him, it was the final straw. You loved him. Sam kissed you like he loved you too, pecking you soft and light like you were his dream girl, like he only wanted to treat you gentle, since so often his hands were forced to do the opposite. Quickly, your fingers were in his rain-tangled hair. Sam drew back to groan and then angled his head, pecking you in deep and loving bursts until you were giggling at him. He kissed those giggles too, smiling into his dimples. Sam never failed to make your heart go rabid when he did that, kissing you good; you had seen him kiss other girls before, and he never seemed as skilled or intuitive unless it was with you. Something tirelessly drove him to impress you.

You urged Sam's back flat to the seat again. With your leverage returned, you cupped his neck, then his shoulders, slipping your hands into his shirt, first through his collar and then up his stomach, palms seeking and appreciative. His flesh was warm and his figure was firm or yielding in all the right places. Sometimes, when you sparred and Sam was on top of you, or when you shared beds and his back was pressed to yours, you got glimpses of what Sam felt like. But now that you were free to roam where you pleased, only one signal could make its way through your nervous system: he is so beautiful. You uttered this to him in a frenzy. Sam couldn't get any redder, but you could feel his skin get warmer yourself, could press your hands flat to it and feel the life underneath, which was all the response you needed.

You licked your way into Sam's mouth. He was pliant for you as you did, whole-heartedly enjoying the filthiness of your tongue lapping and sucking at his, even if it was new to him. You laved yours from his bottom lip, across his open, wet mouth and flat against his top lip, prying approving little sounds from him. Butterflies furled and unfurled their wings in your stomach.

When you finally freed yourself, you sucked down breaths open-mouthed and fell back on your haunches.

“That's how it's gonna feel on your cock,” you proclaimed, and swiped a line of spit off his chin.

“Yeah?” Sam panted.

You wormed your fingers under the seam of your tight tee and yanked it over your head, cursing at him in a wrecked whisper. “Yeah. Then I'm gonna put you all the way in my throat, every inch of you, lickin’ and kissin’ all I can get. And when you're ready to cum, m’ gonna play with you, n’ hold you in mouth and make you sit like that.”

Sam mewled, only making your craze to get your pants off even worse. “Why?”

“‘Cause you've tortured me, baby,” you swore. You rocked back onto your tailbone and wormed off your bottoms, sucking back spit at the sight of Sam puppy-dog-eying you and palming his dick—palming his dick because of you, because of your lacy black underwear and how it looked on you. You knew you looked hot. But Sam made you feel it, like you were a Victoria's Secret cover model, like you were the hottest girl he'd ever seen, naked or otherwise. And you were—Sam had never been with anyone else. “Look at me, Sammy. You've tortured me. Made me wait to kiss you and touch you like this for so long, I almost lost my mind. So you're gonna get a taste of your own medicine, just for a bit—and when I think you can't take it anymore, just like me, then I'm gonna let you cum wherever you want. On my face, my tits, on my stomach…” you choked back a wave of unbridled, insatiable want, groaning out, “...in my mouth… inside me...”

The low, guttural noise puttering out of Sam broke. He took you by the underarms and yanked you against him, genuinely hauling you off your ass with a strength you forgot he had, little pants and miserable snarling moans pouring from him. Your mouths slotted together hard and unprettily. It knocked a girlish laugh out of you—when Sam let you breathe between sucking your face off, anyway.

“You like that idea, huh?” You teased.

Sam dropped a hand across your temple. His hand was so big that it could cover the entirety of your face, or perfectly seal over your mouth. In ways no other man had ever done for you, he stroked your hair back all tender just so he could get a look at his girl. You nuzzled into the weight without any mind for where you were going, knowing nothing but Sam’s love and Sam’s chest expanding and shrinking between you.

Those big fawn eyes wondered up at you. “You’d let me do that? Already?”

“I’d let you do anything.” You dropped what remained of your filter. This was truly dumbfounding to him, apparently, because Sam sat there stupidly for a second with his mouth open. He snapped it shut as you neared your faces, making it even easier to press a kiss to the seam of his mouth. “Any other man would take advantage of that chance. M’ not stupid. But you’re the only one I can think of who’d… who’d,” you searched for the words, admiring Sam’s nosebridge with your thumb. He had such pretty moles. “You’d be good to me,” you concluded.

Sam blinked. “...I’d want to be,” he smiled, sounding dulcet. Again, Sam brushed back your hair. “I mean… Anybody who wouldn’t be good to you i-is… is an idiot.”

“Exactly,” you smirked. Slow and sultry, you pressed your nose and lips into the plush of Sam’s cheek and dragged, then a little more, just glimpsing the skin with yours. He was ready and shuddering when your lips were at his ear. “That’s why it’s you I’m thinking about when I’m fingering myself.”

Another weak sound wept out of Sam. Christ, the noises he could make. If your imagination had even come close to the real thing, you would’ve been this dirty-mouthed with him ages ago.

Sam cursed, “Jesus, ____.”

“It’s true.” You pressed this promise with a kiss into his cheek, then again, at his jaw, letting yourself sink into each one with boundless pleasure. Sam melted helplessly against you, ears perked. “Every day. Every time I took a shower, after sharing a bed with you all weekend. I was always soaking wet because of something you’d done hours ago that I just couldn’t shake, hot out of my mind…” you swallowed down another onslaught of drool. “I pictured you having a hard day, y’know, needing something to perk you up. I’d haul your jeans down and lick you all over like an ice cream cone.”

Sam’s whole upper body was blushing so hard now that steam floated off him. “God, me too.”

Your brows raised. “Yeah?”

He nodded himself dizzy. “That same thing. You having a hard day. I’d… I’d…”

You leaned in, blinking in shock. “How did you imagine it?”

“We’d be kissing.” One of his long, too-long-to-be-wasted fingers followed a thread of your panties. “On your bed, the Impala, wherever we could find. I’d lay back and… and you’d crawl on top of me…get your legs around my head—”

Sam’s hot, moist breath tickled your face. So close, with your lips wet from Sam’s kissing already, it was all too easy to follow along with his fantasy. Sitting in his lap in the backseat. Laying him down there, your palms flat and steadying on his chest. Curling your thighs around his face until his nose pressed up into you, then his mouth, slipping open, and his hot, silky tongue taking long drinks of you. The sensory ghost of it alone could’ve made you cum.

You blurted: “You’d eat me out?”

One man-paw of his smoothed down the planes of your back, palming big handfuls of your skin. Now, it was his turn to smile wolfishly. Sam confessed: “I’ve always wanted to.”

The admission temporarily launched you into orbit, and for a long time you hung there, clinging to him by the shirt, dully aware of the rainy smell of him and how hard your cunt was pulsing. Sam. Your Sam, sitting with these thoughts in his head. At the same time that you were pushing your knees together when he sat beside you at the dinner table, Sam was fantasizing about getting between them. The eroticism of it already had you close to edge. Anytime you’d ever been with him, at some point, Sam had to have thought about how his fingers would feel digging into your ass-flesh while he fucked you with his tongue, while you squealed his name, the flat of your toes curled against his shoulders. Uncensored. He could’ve revealed any fantasy on top of that, but he chose this one. The one that had him pleasuring you and fucking loving it. Sam didn’t just want you—he wanted the angle that could get him the most of you, the most exposed and honest position. You fucking loved him.

You were tonguing into his mouth before Sam could finish, both hands in possessive fists around his shirt. Sam started laughing, the asshole, but you persisted, closing him in with passionate dips of your head and kissing him senseless. Your hands feasted on him, clawing into his hair and down the back of his shirt and around again. Nothing was enough. You were convinced you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were Sam, or melded into him somehow, like chocolate chips in a warm pot.

“Thought about… tasting you n’ makin’ you feel good,” Sam hissed. “So good that you’d have’ta put your fist in your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You’d put your hands in my hair a-and… and… shit, you’d taste so good. I want to taste you so bad, ____. Want you to—” he leached you into a long, surging kiss, purring deep in his throat, “sit on my face.”

You wrestled down a choked whine, which Sam swallowed. Every movement of his mouth went straight to your pussy, echoing there. Sam must’ve known this, because he kissed you exactly as he would between your thighs, all tongue and sucking lips, unbearably hot in comparison to your untouched cunt. You could almost feel the blazing front of his mouth bearing down on you there, his breath fanning over you and his tongue—god, his fucking tongue—flexing into your clit. You broke away.

Sam’s hands hesitated at the top of your back, then all at once took two whole handfuls of your ass, and pushed up with his hips to open your thighs for him. You let slip a helpless moan. His hands were warm and calloused and everywhere, except for the precise place you needed him most. But above all else, Sam was a selfless, loving man, so immediately he was moving to drag down your panties.

“Please,” he choked. “Please, ____, please, I can—I can do it for you—lemme do it for you, baby. Let me take care a’ you.”

“Sam.”

You pressed both palms flat to Sam’s chest in an order. Sam immediately stopped, though he did not look pleased about it. You took a breath to realize the pussy-eating fiend you were soon to have all to yourself, then stepped back to your initial focus. “You’ll have to wait. Want you first, pretty boy. Have you ever even done that before?”

Sam shook his head, sending his bangs fluttering around his face. He pouted. His hands coasted along your arms, dragging you down and into him still.

Bleeding with earnestness, he husked, “No. But I’ll learn for you. I’ll practice on you over and over again, til’ I’m better than anybody you’ve ever had that way. S’ all I want.”

You bit your lip and, god, was it impossible to say no to him.

“I'm all yours, Sammy. Whatever you need, you know I'll give it to you. But we’re gonna do this first, okay?”

You wanted his first time to be good, better than good, all because of you. You wanted to be his second time. His third time too, and every time after that. And if that didn't work out, then you hoped that every time he got a blowjob in the future, it was a good one. Even if it’d be downright pitiful in comparison to the way you were gonna suck his brains out now.

You reached between you and gave Sam's strained cock a generous squeeze.

Sam lost it. “Please, you, please please—” he all but sobbed. His hips rolled up and his knees snapped apart, making room for you, inviting you in, hands making marks on your arm in his scramble for touch. “Please. I-I need it, I need—I need you, god, I want to feel—”

You hung back, absorbing the result of your work. You’d barely touched him and Sam was already out of his mind. He'd had orgasms before—you’d heard him reaching them through the wall in the shower, and his desperate choking breaths were so hot that you had touched yourself right outside the door—but as good as they'd sounded, you were determined to blow them out of the race.

Sam started for his fly, which was your cue to step in. You waved his hands away, guiding them to his stomach, where they fisted in his shirt and drew it up over his sculpted naval. You shushed and soothed, “Sam, Sammy—s’okay, you're okay. I'll take care of you, alright? I'll start right now,” you peppered kisses on his face, bent beside him on your knees. “We gotta get the seat back. Help me?”

You pushed the Impala’s bench back as far as it could go, and you made sure to lay the backrest down a few more inches, too, so Sam could relax and you had a good angle on his face. He was equally considerate and folded up a blanket for you to sit on in the footwell. As soon as Sam sat up, you evaporated into his lap. You expected him to go shy on you again, but this time Sam helped you settle there, clenching his teeth and dragging his eyes up your figure. You stood still for the examination, and the longer it went on the warmer your flaming skin got. Both of Sam’s unreasonably big hands landed on your waist at the same time, and for a moment your roles reversed, Sam’s eyes smoky and heavy-lidded as he devoured the sight of you. You felt yourself throb pathetically in your panties. You were probably the first girl Sam had ever seen intimately; and, in true Sam fashion, he consumed the new sight, cataloging and learning things. A tiny whine slipped out of you when his fingers dug into your thighs, then again when Sam’s thumb brushed under the band of your bra.

“I'm all yours,” you reminded with a smile you hoped was confident. If it was, it was ruined by you shyly and awkwardly reaching for the clasp of your bra. “Whatever you want, Sam, I can do.”

He gazed up at you through his bangs, expression bleeding with love and boyish frankness. “What do you want?”

“To make you happy,” you answered, without question. “To make this night good for you, even if it's the only night we'll have.”

Sam shook his head, absent-minded. A slow, clever, panty-dropping smile developed on his face, something that was clearly common in the men of his family.

“You said that most guys you're with, like this…” he thought aloud. Sam brought you close to him, and when your shadow fell across him and you were nose to nose, he slid two warm fingers up your back and click—he was pulling your brassiere off your shoulders. “You said that most of them can't find a way around a bra, nevermind you,” he observed. “We're going to need more nights if I'm going to prove to you that I'm different.”

“Sam,” you whispered, “you were always different from them.”

You pushed him back against the seat, aligning his spine with it, and as soon as Sam hung his arms over his head you were kissing him wet and deep, both of your hands sliding and groping along the firm muscle of his raised biceps. Now only a flimsy tee stood between them, and you were as rude with it as you were with anything else keeping you from Sam. The long, muscular frame you’d been fantasizing about for years was exposed to you now, and you wasted no time getting acquainted with it. Only recently had Sam started to linger in wet t-shirts in front of you or guide your hands under his shirt as you cuddled—for longer, you’d had no clue what he looked like under his clothes. Dean got all the credit for being John's perfect hunter, but Sam had the perfect hunter's body, barrel-chested huge and wood-shattering strong.

You sunk onto your hands and knees, palming him, groping him, caressing him, outlining the lines of his muscles and his ribs with your fingers. Nobody could resist the temptation to kiss him all over, and in all fairness, you had promised. You dragged your mouth down Sam's chest, kissing the center seam of his body to his happy trail. You almost lost yourself pleasuring him this way; at the sound of Sam's deep breathing, you endured, hovering over your prize instead. You knew you must've looked beyond turned on: your dark eyes were wild, dilated and glittering with want, your panties were soaked through and your lip was almost bleeding you were biting it so hard.

“Fuck,” you cursed, settled back on Sam's thighs, “I've wanted to blow you stupid for years, Sam… it didn't matter what you looked like underneath here or not… but fuck, I feel like a schoolgirl, drooling over all these muscles. You used to be so lanky.”

“Hard to be healthy on the road,” Sam flushed. “We're fighting monsters every day, it’d be stupid to die to a heart condition…or… something.”

“Yeah,” you groaned before you could contain yourself, “but you're sure not making this crush I have on you any easier.”

Sam whispered, sounding coy as he plucked the waistband of your panties. There was that dimply smile again. “You got a crush on me, pretty girl?”

The next words poured out of you as sensually and devoutly as you felt them: “Yeah,” slow, you dismounted his thighs, folded your legs in between Sam's, and finally, finally, sunk on your shins into the footwell. “You wanna see what I do for the men I crush on, baby?”

“So bad. So damn bad,” Sam begged, and it was surreal to finally see what he looked like from this angle, since you’d been dreaming of it for so long. His head lolled back and all you could see of him was the sexy column of his throat and all the soft red lines you’d put in his skin there, just bright enough to see. His chin lowered so Sam could look at you, and sweet lord—there were those fawn brown eyes, drowning in the darkness and the black of his lashes. They boiled over with devotion and willingness and thirst, teased for far too long now. You almost felt bad enough to cut him some slack. But now you were here, with Sam's cock just inches from where it should be, and you couldn't just start going easy on him.

You did exactly what you said you would, so Sam knew what was coming. As promised, you hunkered down on the blanket Sam had folded, letting your knees settle comfortably on the floor. Then you started in on him. You played your nails across his legs, stroking the sides of his thighs, feeling how his pants clung to his skin. On his lap, it was impossible not to fantasize about Sam sitting you on one of his legs and inviting you to rut across his solid, powerful jean-clad thigh. It took a lot to make you feel tiny—but Sam did just that. Crouched down at his feet like this, Sam only seemed bigger and his body better built than usual. You pressed your cheek against his inner thigh and just basked in him.

Sam writhed having you so close to the source of his suffering. “Please,” he sighed below his breath.

“Please what?” You grinned, wolfish.

You turned inwards and kissed the inner seam of Sam's jeans, right on the denim path to his aching cock. Just inches from your face, angled down Sam's pantleg, was a heavy, massive tent more than the width of both your hands put together. Fuck, it'd been even longer since your last good blowjob than you’d thought it'd been. Just seeing the outline made your cunt pulse. Pressing your kiss-swollen lips to the denim above the head bolted molten hot desire straight to your core, and for Sam it was no less extreme, his hands curling into fists on his chest.

His eyes squeezed shut, and the little hoarse squeak that left him made you forget your gag reflex entirely. Sam moaned, “Please please please put me in your mouth—____, p-please.”

“I think you're a little ahead of me, Sammy…”

Your voice dripped with liquid sex. You steadied your hands on Sam's knees and bent forward again, nuzzling his cock with your nose and cheeks, glittering obsidian eyes devouring Sam's softest reactions. He was sensitive—even more sensitive than you’d been hoping for. Just the tiniest lick through scratchy fabric had his toes curling. Again, your nails scraped down his thighs. This time you leaned forward as the gesture drew back, bringing you up to Sam's happy trail. And man, happy it was–it was the centerpiece for miles of twitching, gleaming, sweaty muscle, soft-blended abs, hard-cut v-lines and all.

“Let's start by getting these tight, constricting pants off your first.” you smirked. “How does that sound? You must be uncomfortable, Sammy.”

He was, to the point that just the thought of getting them off had his hips arching toward you on the seat. Pitifully, Sam pleaded, “____. C'mon. Anything.”

“S’okay…” you whispered. You kissed the button of his jeans. “I'll get it off and you'll feel so good, darlin…”

Sam watched you from over his heaving chest, so hard that he was delirious, quavering miserably when your touch disappeared. His soft desperate gasps reminded you of the noises he made when he had dirty dreams sleeping next to you. The few times it'd happened, you just endured it until you drifted off to fatally horny sleep. But once it'd been your name he was sighing like that. It took every ounce of strength you had not to roll over and jerk him off right there. The scene was so vivid it was painful, and you could easily imagine yourself cuddling up to his back and stroking him sweet and slow half-out of his pajama pants, your cheek to his shoulder. Or even better, crawling under your shared sheets and deepthroating him awake. You wondered if Sam had ever heard the dreams you had of him. Or how many times you’d fucked yourself in the shower, imagining him reaming you into the tile like an animal. You had never dreamt of another man that way, or loved a different one so terribly that it made you reckless.

Sam watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes. Nobody else could look so innocent watching somebody get ready to suck their dick. Every time you glanced past his chest, you expected the perverted revelry you got from your other partners to reveal itself on his face. But, god. Sam. He basked in you, in your touch, arching up to meet your hands and worshipping your with his gaze. Love downpoured from every molecule of him. All his reserve had shredded away, taking any reason he had to hide right along with it. I love you I love you I love you, his body wept.

The second you got the fabric corner of his jean-opening in your teeth, Sam’s lips parted, and you remembered all the times you’d tie cherry stems in your mouth to impress him—how many popsicles you’d enjoyed all too slowly and vocally while Sam was watching. It took just one pull of your chin and his fly was off the button. One more and his zipper was in your teeth. You dragged down your head, sultry eyes never leaving his even when you got his fly open, and soaked up the look on Sam's face as he realized the kind of professional he was dealing with.

“...Wow,” Sam gaped. I've hit the jackpot, his wide eyes said.

“Up,” you instructed, and let your grin say the rest. Excitement was burning between your legs now. You tugged on his belt loops until Sam raised his hips, giving you the room to pile them around his ankles.

When you brought your eyes back up, your breath caught. Sam was hard enough to crack steel. You couldn't believe your own luck here. The boy you’d been head over heels for since before you could speak, the man you’d devoted half your life to, and he was so hot for you that he could hardly breathe.

“You don't know how long I've been fantasizing about this.” Your voice was almost too hoarse to hear over the rain, a prayer's voice. You drew yourself between Sam's thighs, and shaking from head to toe with hunger, you spread both palms over his hips and dragged your mouth up Sam's length in his boxers.

Sam had already given himself up to the pleasure. His nails seared into the upholstery, and he moaned, rocketing up, off his back, rocking into you already. The neediness of it burst another tank of heat and love and lust inside you—your Sam, above you, about to be yours, begging so pretty for you… Fuck, heaven would be boring in comparison.

“____, please, baby, please I need it,” he almost sobbed, “I'll do anything anything ____ I ju-just, I just want you. I want your mouth on me I wanna—god, please ____, how good you feel, I want it, please—”

“Anything you want, Sammy, you can have anything,” you soothed, muffled and slurred by your dragging kisses.

“M’ all yours, all yours, all this cock just for you, g-god yeah—your mouth ____ please I need your mouth—”

There was so much drool built up under your tongue that you had to swallow to speak—but you decided against it, saving it for your prize instead. You couldn't wait a second more. You were hooking your fingers in Sam's briefs before you could second-guess, before you could even think to judge if you should unravel Sam a little more—but he was there, bucking for you already, so there was no use waiting. He couldn't even lift his hips before you’d yanked his boxers out of the way. You felt him in your hand and all of it—the length of his cock, the weight of it, the fact that it was Sam, had you sinking into his lap like a priest into a sermon, flesh into the earth, and instantly you threw yourself into the task like you’d never done for any other man. This was for Sam.

You took in just a bit of him at first, enough to introduce him to the hot, velvety heat of your mouth and wet him with a single good suck. Sam's sob cut off with his breath. He was careful to treat you right, even like this. One of his hands had startled into your hair, the pleasure was so much for him. It never did anything more than jolt—he wasn't the type to just shove you on him, anyway. Your smile felt obscene with your lips slick and swollen around him; your tongue gave the lightest lap at the special spot under his tip, and Sam strangled down a filthy, whining mewl. His head was plump and comfortable on your jaw, so you gave it your first dose of attention, loosening your seal around it so you could share your drool with the rest of him. You hollowed your cheeks and brought him a little further into your mouth, shattering what remained of Sam's strength. He sunk back against the seat, exhausted, and watched you bracingly from above, sucking down breaths. Already, there was enough spit on him to make Sam's cock gleam like your lips. It clung to your chin and the tip of your nose in shining patches. Sam ran a hand through his hair and lazily studied you as you sucked him off, falling further in love with you by the second.

“That's it,” Sam cooed. He sounded broken and thready, but he insisted on curling your hair around his fingers, dizzy. “So good, ____—suck it, just like that, please, baby, j-just… ohh, fuckkk…”

Suck it, he'd said. You did as told. The command vibrated through your whole overshot body, and your throbbing, weeping cunt only felt emptier hearing the order. Sam filled up your mouth so well that your cheeks were puffy. He was the perfect size for you—a damn perfect masterpiece. His girth sat thick in your hands, veiny in ways that you wanted to feel with your pussy. Oral had always been enough before, but already you wanted Sam more than air, and more than that, wanted to blow him so good that he'd reward you for it. You tested out a few lower bobs, his cock slick and sticky between your fingers now, and every time you suckled on him Sam squeezed his eyes shut all pretty. The rain was dying out, so the liquid noise your lips made on him filled every crevice of the Impala louder than before. The pop of you slipping off his cock almost echoed.

“Tell me what you want,” you coached, your voice just as broken and hushed as Sam's. You couldn't even part from him that long, and dipped again to whorl your tongue around Sam's heavy tip. “Whatever you need, Sam,” you punctuated the reminder with a long, flat drag of your tongue from his base to the special spot under his tip, and beamed; Sam yelped. “I love it… I love,” you swallowed, “I love doing this for you.”

Sam worked his fingers into your untamed hair, and you did fucking love it. On the floor your knees were aching, but it and everything else was numb to the rolling glide of cock slotting into your mouth, of Sam reveling in your lips and tongue on him, watching you give it all just because he asked.

Sam’s knuckles caressed your cheekbone. “Wrap your lips around the head. Tight.”

You listened. He was more than comfortable on your jaw now, so your lips molded nicely to him, sealing and hollowing so he was even more snug in his new favorite place.

“Good girl,” Sam groaned, probably on instinct, but you stroked him faster for the praise, so he repeated it until his mind was muddy. “Lick the part unde—oh very, very good girl… I wish you could see yourself… I-I want…” he hissed in delight, “you look so pretty, ____… so pretty with my cock in your mouth, god…”

Holy shit. You had never really paid attention to that kind of talk before during sex, busied with the task at hand, but there was something euphoric about the way he said it to you now, your shy Sam, your Sam, his voice raspy, his pink mouth panting and open, his hands all over you, talking to you like he’d always wanted to say that. Your cunt ached.

With a deadly rumble spilling up from your chest, you slipped off his head and laved your gluttonous mouth down Sam’s soaking shaft, kissing, tonguing and sucking at whatever flesh you could find.

“Keep talking like that,” you begged into his base, breathless.

Sam listened. He cupped the sweat-slick nape of your neck, his hand easily broad enough to cover your back blade to blade, and in a messy, groping haze, dragged it up against your cheek. “Never seen you like this,” he purred, “eyes… all dark and… hot… lookin’ up at me… you’re so tiny between my legs like that.”

You couldn’t have restrained yourself if you tried. A weak whine seeped out of you. Sam’s thumb pushed into your cheek and you turned, lapping at it, then covering his hand with one of your own and searing kisses all over his palm. It was heavy and perfect for smudging your nose into. You sunk two open-mouthed kisses into Sam’s wrist where his bracelet was, then up his forearm, knowing only his body and how it could connect to your mouth. His pulse thudded furiously. Just as fast as you’d nuzzled up to him, you returned to Sam’s thick thumb, sucking it deep and right as he watched in rapture. The filthy delight written all over those mesmerized eyes had you praying to him.

“Wanna do this all the time,” Sam swallowed. He was all stream-of-consciousness now, too frenzied to filter himself. “Watch you suck me off… watch those perfect lips disappear around me, _____… y-you… oh, god, you are a natural, baby…”

His other hand, again, flushed your hair away from her forehead. All the love put into your face at once rooted you to the spot. It was miraculous, how special Sam could make you feel with just a few light touches. Bleeding with tenderness, he caressed your shoulders, your cheeks, your jaw, your hair, feasting on you as you had him.

Sam pushed the meat of his thumb into your swollen lip. “Open for me. Yeah… oh, yeah, let me watch you put it in…”

Your lips parted, mostly out of shock—when had Sam started thinking like this? A deeper part of your mind registered it all as innocent teasing, since Sam could never hurt or demean you; he was the basest definition of good to you. Regardless, you were more than willing to obey, and opened wide, tongue splayed for the heavy head of Sam’s dick. The extra kick of his pre-come had your toes curling every single time. But combined with Sam’s ruddy-cheeked, enraptured staring, just one touch to your clit would bring you over the edge. You forced your knees apart on the floor and held off. Just in case Sam intended to keep his promise.

The easiest way to put Sam’s dick into words was by comparing it to a warm, solid lollipop that took up your whole mouth, like the twisty kind from the carnival that eclipsed your whole face, chin to forehead. You’d been mourning Sam’s scrawniness after his four years away at college, but now you were nothing but grateful for the extra mass. Sam was really, really big. Bigger than anyone else you’d been with. He could’ve been any size and you would’ve been just as rabid for him, but there was something specifically hot about sucking him down as far as you could and failing to hit the bottom. It took effort to get there. You lazily pumped what you had left of his shaft, and in slow, deliberate surges of your spit-wet mouth, you earned an inch, then another.

Sam moaned so gutturally you felt it rumble under your palms. It was so Sam, in that it was like any sound you’d ever heard him make, sighing at a stupid joke, snarling during a fight, but this time it was him losing it because you were giving him a blowjob. Because you’d snuck away like idiot teenagers and you were blowing him good and filthy in Baby’s front seat.

“I-I thought about you all day,” he licked his lips, “all week, like this… it’s, you are so much better than I thought… m’ gonna make you cum so good for me.”

You wished that he could feel the way your cunt had fluttered at that. All you could do in answer was hum in approval, since you were so drunk off him, off the girth pressing against the start of your throat, that you couldn't even lift your head to speak. You did the opposite, pushing down and surging Sam's length in deeper and further than you’d gone before. The half-hour you’d poured into warming up for this was instantly worth it. You were by no means an amateur. Blowjobs, as a sexual activity, were with ease your favorite—but deepthroating was where your real talent lay. Wielding your skill, you relaxed your sore jaw and pressed forward.

The initial burn waited for you there, but Sam’s reaction was priceless.

Every muscle in his body snapped in, a taut coil broken in one motion. A strangled gasp broke from his throat. Sam's entire torso bore forward and his hips surged up to your face in a voiceless gasp, which you’d been expecting. You pinned them back down and dug for it, giving him no room to breathe, mashing your nose into his abs and hanging there, lingering, suckling, gagging, so all Sam could feel was the soft, hot, velvet pulse of your throat around his spent cock.

“I’m. I-I—”

You sucked harder, bringing a wave of spit with you, and closed a hand around Sam’s closest fist. Drool seeped over your knuckles. He spasmed. His voice tore, cutting off.

It was a little hard, but with practice—and you could practice on Sam for days, if that’s what it took—the ache would fade. All the pleasure was in the act itself, in your own slobbering sounds, the drool, and above all else the punch-to-the-teeth thrill it gave. Every inch of Sam’s pretty virgin dick was stuffing your throat. You could barely hollow your cheeks around him, Sam was so thick. His cock pulsed, once, then twice, then over and over. No other person in the world could claim him like you could, and no other person would ever have him like you had.

Sam came, and hard.

His thighs snapped closed around your ribs. He hung in place bent up over you, twitching mid-sob. Both of his hands snapped around your head, then his arms in full, scrabbling across your back, crazed, heaving, coating you entirely in the woody smell of him.

You flattened your palms to his thighs and drew upward. When it was just half his shaft in your mouth, so coated in saliva that you were connected to it in cloying strings, you persisted. The first spurt of him on your tongue detonated a ruthless orgasm deep within you on the spot. You latched onto him as it crested through you, digging your nails into Sam’s rolling hips, back and toes curled, pressing closer and swallowing the mouth-watering load you’d been dying to taste for years now. It came with its own gratified explosion of ecstasy. Your pussy sobbed, clenching without end, wracking your whole body with delicious waves of mind-whiting pleasure. The taste of him conquered you—fuck, he tasted perfect, salty and organic and human and Sam. It was a sugar rush of earthy sweetness that burned straight to your overwrought core.

You could’ve unburied yourself and let Sam finish anywhere, since he was already so mindless underneath your spell that anything would’ve pleased him. But there was something potent and intimate in being able to taste him. His body—every divine inch of it was yours, and a piece of him was filling an empty place in you.

You should’ve guessed by the size of him alone, but christ, Sam came whole glassfuls. His cum bubbled up into your mouth and spilled out of the corners of your lips, and you relished in it, drinking him down, whorling your tongue around his fleshy head, soaking up every second of your hard work’s result. The taste of him overwhelmed and surrounded you. The act did. It was in every facet a religious experience, angels singing, clouds parting, the sun glowing over them—all of it. Sam went down your throat piping hot, and you swore you could feel his cum gliding all the way to your stomach.

You slipped off him with a gasp. Hoarse, weak sighs huffed from your blazing lungs.

Slowly, as your orgasm ebbed further from your mind, your surroundings filtered back in. Peeling yourself away from him effectively rebooted all the systems in your body again. You could hear the rain bearing down on the Impala’s windshield overhead. Both of your palms were sticky and cloying with saliva. The whole lower half of your face, your abused lips, your aching jaw, your glistening cheeks, were slathered with slick. Your throat felt raw but recently balmed, like you’d swallowed a spoonful of honey to heal a soreness. Each of your knees had been stuck in place for so long that they were both numb, so the scratchy blanket beneath them seemed to ripple with pins and needles.

And Sam. Sam’s weight was braced in his hands, pressed flat to the dash, putting your face between the long bridge-arch of his shoulders. He’d collapsed around you in the footwell, shuddering and gasping for breath, and through the sea of endorphins and hormones, he managed to press his tacky forehead to yours.

You panted together; you inhaled and so did he, atoms apart, nearly mouth to mouth. Sam’s hot breath fanned across your face, cooling the saliva there.

It was something out of some old Italian sculpture, a Pietà, two nude figures entwined, expressing their love in form alone. You were collapsed on your knees, a worshipper gazing up at your saint. Sam was bent over you almost uncomfortably, every fiber of his body yearning for closeness, but close wasn’t close enough to you, his face smushed into yours and his jaw slack.

He looked nothing short of lovesick.

Hands shaking, you cupped Sam’s face. You pressed your thumbs into his warm, flushed cheekbones, then his dimples when he smiled dizzily at you, his girl.

You swallowed. “Did you like that?” You closed her eyes, hoping aloud, “...Did I… did I do a good job for you, Sammy?”

Sam surprised you. The haziness in his eyes cleared more and more with each inhale, until eventually, he was blinking down at you without guile. He burst out laughing.

“...There’s no way it was that bad,” you deadpanned. It didn’t hold for long, with him giggling over you like that. You fought against a mean, vibrant smile and its matching flush. “Alright, Sam, shut up! Quit laughing, you ass! What the hell did I—”

With the seat pushed back as far as it was, Sam had the room to get his hands under your arms again and drag you up onto his lap in one sturdy motion. Your shoulders quaked with laughter the whole time. Suddenly, his face and chest and throat were flush with yours. It was enough to drive a person crazy. Like before, Sam slotted your mouths together. The difference this time was that his cum was all over your face—but Sam could care less. You went from kissing him to gaping, since Sam dotted each filthy lick of your tongues with a heavy lap across your cheek or your chin. Tasting himself. On you. Fucking hell.

“Stop gawking n’ kiss me,” Sam insisted. He pawed at your back for emphasis, then your shoulders from below, adjusting your weight on his thighs since in your shock you’d dropped on him completely.

(And that was definitely a hard-on scooping against your inner thigh. Fucking fuck. Jesus Christ. Holy shit, Sam.)

“You were better n’ good,” he shivered. Filthily and innocently all at once, he grinned, “...I can’t believe… that was how my first time went. I can’t believe you… You, you just…”

He struggled for words. Eventually, Sam purred: “You are a natural.”

I love you, you almost blurted. You deliberately filled your lungs to calm yourself down. Your arms were around Sam’s neck and he was gazing up at you, brimming with satisfaction and gratitude and boundless, unhidden love. Dangerous territory. His taste had sunk thick and sweet on your tongue, so you both moan when you share it with him in a surging kiss.

“Anytime,” you rasped, maybe sounding a bit desperate. You were. Sam was everything you wanted in a thousand different ways, so you refused to let the moment go. In the black darkness, you laid kisses into him until your lips tingled. “I fucking—ugh. That was perfect. You were perfect. If… if you ever want me like that again—”

“I do,” was Sam’s immediate, unflinching answer. “But… I have a condition.”

He swallowed. At first, you figured he was nervous, and knowing it was his first time you doubted he wasn’t. But then Sam’s eyes flashed. Both of his enormous hands smoothed down your waist, kneading the flesh, squeezing you around the sides so his thumbs were in your belly, then his fingers were sliding flat to your hip and down. They plucked under the waistband of your underwear—the last and only layer between you.

“Every time you go down on me,” his hungry, sultry gaze devoured yours, “I get to practice on you, too.”

part two.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #uncouthspn #supernatural #spn #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine

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