#just so. open and vulnerable and so much stronger for it

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 19✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Angst, HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Language

Word Count: 7695

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

When he reached the kitchen, he saw you standing by the sink, your back to him. The hum of the faucet filled the room, but it was the soft sound of your quiet humming that drew him closer. You seemed lost in your own world.

Dean’s chest tightened at the sight of you. You were so at ease, so comfortable, even in his chaotic world. And while he knew he shouldn’t—knew he needed to calm down and keep his thoughts in check—he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer.

You didn’t hear him at first, too focused on the task in front of you, until you felt his presence behind you. The warmth of his body was unmistakable, and you turned your head slightly, catching the faint scent of leather and musk that always clung to him.

“Dean”, you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you glanced back. “You need something?”.

He shook his head, his good hand coming to rest lightly on the counter beside you for balance. His broken arm stayed close to his chest, but even with one hand, he managed to close the space between you, his presence wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Just couldn’t sit still”, he muttered, his voice low, rough. “Thought I’d come check on you”.

Your smile widened slightly as you turned back to the sink. “I’m fine”, you replied, though your voice softened at his concern. “Just dealing with the usual… you know”.

Dean let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned closer, his chest brushing lightly against your back. The heat of him made you pause, your hands stilling as you opened the cap of the hot water bottle.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly in your ear, “you’re humming that little tune you do when you’re thinking too hard”.

Your cheeks warmed as you realized he’d caught you, and you bit your lip, glancing back at him. “I didn’t even notice”, you admitted, your voice quieter now.

Dean smirked, his green eyes flicking down to yours. “Yeah, well, I notice”, he said, his tone softer now, filled with something unspoken.

You turned your head slightly, catching sight of Dean in your peripheral vision. His presence was steady, grounding, as he stood close behind you, his broken arm cradled protectively against his chest. His green eyes met yours when you turned fully, and the intensity there made your heart skip a beat.

“Dean”, you said softly, your voice curious but warm. “What are you doing?”.

Dean’s gaze flicked down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and for a moment, he hesitated. His jaw tightened slightly, as though he was debating something with himself, before he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “Just… thinking about how much I wanna kiss those lips of yours”.

Your breath caught at his words, the air in the room seeming to grow heavier. His vulnerability, the rawness in his tone, made your heart race as you stared up at him, momentarily speechless.

“Dean”, you murmured, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks as the corners of your lips curved into a soft smile. “You can just… do it, you know”.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes softened with something deeper. “Yeah?”, he asked, stepping just a little closer, his good hand brushing against your waist.

You nodded shyly, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as you bit your lip, anticipation fluttering in your chest. Dean’s smirk softened into something more tender as he stepped closer, his good hand resting firmly on your waist. He leaned down slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost hesitant kiss that sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss deepened as Dean tilted his head, his lips parting slightly before his tongue brushed against yours, teasing, inviting. The sensation made your knees weaken, and you instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders for balance. Despite your effort, you couldn’t help but feel a little clumsy, your movements unsure and unpracticed when it came to the dance of tongues. But rather than deter him, your hesitance seemed to ignite something deeper in Dean.

A low groan escaped his throat, the sound reverberating through you as his grip on your waist tightened. His body pressed closer to yours, and you suddenly became very aware of the hard length of him pressing against your stomach. Your breath hitched, the realization sending a wave of heat through your entire body.

As Dean’s tongue teased yours, the intensity of the kiss grew, and you felt your body responding in ways you couldn’t control. A warmth spread through your core, pooling low in your belly as a soft ache built steadily. The realization of how wet you were becoming made your breath hitch, and you exhaled heavily into the kiss, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to keep up with the sensations flooding through you.

Dean noticed—of course he did. His groan deepened, vibrating against your lips as his good hand tightened on your waist. Every movement felt deliberate, every stroke of his tongue and press of his hips igniting a fire within you. You clung to him, instinctively letting him lead, just as you always did. With Dean, you trusted him completely, and the way he guided you in every moment left no room for doubt or fear.

He broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His green eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with a heat that made your pulse race.

Dean’s lips curved into that boyish grin that always had a way of disarming you, making your heart race and your knees weak. His forehead still pressed against yours, his green eyes danced with mischief as he murmured, “You sure you don’t wanna…? Heard it helps with those cramps”.

You blinked, your face flushing even deeper at his bold suggestion. “Dean”, you mumbled, but your voice wavered, unsure whether you were protesting or simply trying to process what he’d just said.

“I’m serious”, he added, his voice dropping lower, the grin never leaving his lips. “And c’mon, sweetheart—blood? You think I care? Hell, I drown in blood every weekend”. His tone was teasing but edged with sincerity, and the way his hand squeezed your waist made it impossible to look away.

Your mind spun, your cheeks burning as you tried to come up with a response.

Dean’s grin didn’t falter as his hand gently stroked your waist, his green eyes locked onto yours with a mix of playfulness and intensity. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and rough, “C’mon, sweetheart. What’s there to think about? You’re already squirming against me, and you know you’ll feel better after”.

Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, unable to look at him directly. “I don’t know, Dean”, you whispered shyly, your voice barely audible. The vulnerability in your tone made your blush deepen, and you pressed your palms lightly against his chest, unsure if you were holding him closer or trying to push him away.

Dean’s good hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. His touch was firm but careful, the warmth of his hand sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?”, he murmured, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Make you feel so damn good you’ll forget you ever doubted it”.

The way he said it, so full of confidence and heat, made your heart race. He tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you?”, he continued, his voice dipping lower, each word deliberate and teasing. “Let me take care of that, yeah? You’ll feel better—promise”.

His words sent a rush of heat through you, and you clenched your thighs instinctively, the ache between them growing harder to ignore. Dean’s smirk widened slightly as he noticed, his fingers brushing lightly over your lower back. His lips hovered near your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His voice dropped even lower, barely more than a rumble, as he murmured, “Sweetheart, you’re already making those little noises for me, squirming in my arms like this. You really think you’re gonna say no?”.

His good hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you tighter, while his thumb brushed teasingly along your side. “You know how good I can make you feel”, he whispered, his tone darkening just enough to make your cheeks burn hotter. “Just imagine it. Me, buried inside you, moving slow and deep, making you forget every little ache you’ve got”.

Your breath hitched, and you let out a small whimper, unable to suppress the way your body reacted to his words.

“Yeah, that’s it”, he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I bet you’re already so wet for me. Just thinking about how good it’ll feel”. He paused, his hand sliding slightly lower, his thumb brushing the waistband of your leggings.

You squirmed against him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself steady. His voice was intoxicating, each word making the ache between your legs more unbearable.

“C’mon, baby”, Dean murmured, his voice husky and full of heat. “Let me make you feel good". His tongue flicked against your earlobe, making you gasp softly. “Just say the word”.

His words and his touch were overwhelming, the heat in your body rising to a fever pitch as he continued.

Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His good hand gripped your waist firmly, his thumb brushing small, tantalizing circles over your skin. “Sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice strained and husky, “I’m so damn hard it hurts”.

The rawness in his tone made your breath hitch, your body instinctively pressing closer to his. He groaned again at the contact, his hips shifting slightly to emphasize the growing pressure against you. “I just wanna feel you”, he continued, his voice dropping lower, filled with unfiltered desire. “Feel myself sliding into you, nice and slow. Taking my time… making sure you feel every damn inch”.

Your cheeks burned as his words settled over you, a rush of heat coursing through your body. “I know what this does to you. I know how much you like it when I tell you what I want. And right now, all I want is you”.

You trembled in his arms, your hands clutching his shirt as if to steady yourself. Dean tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing down the side of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you squirm.

“Come on, baby". His lips brushed the sensitive spot just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll be so gentle, sweetheart. Just you and me, nice and slow”.

Your breath came in shallow gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as his words wrapped around you like a spell. He knew exactly what to say, exactly how to make you feel completely consumed by him.

“Okay”, you finally whispered, your voice barely audible as you clung to him, your body trembling with anticipation. The word slipped from your lips almost involuntarily, a soft admission of surrender that made Dean groan in response.

Dean hovered over you, his broad frame tense as he braced himself with his good arm, the muscles in his forearm flexing under the strain. His shirt clung to him, rumpled and slightly damp from the effort of maneuvering himself without aggravating his injuries. His green eyes burned with intensity as he looked down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily. The weight of the moment made the air between you thick, charged with anticipation.

He glanced down toward his sweatpants, then back at you, his lips curving into a crooked smirk. “You’re gonna have to help me out here, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. “Can’t do it one-handed”.

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and your heart raced as you nodded, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. The intimacy of the moment felt overwhelming, but the way Dean’s eyes softened as he watched you steadied your nerves. Slowly, you tugged the fabric down, careful not to move too quickly or jostle him.

Dean let out a low groan as you freed him, the sound sending a wave of heat through your body. His eyes, full of raw desire, watched your every move, his breath catching as your fingers, trembling slightly, wrapped around him. The intimacy of the gesture, your hesitant yet determined touch, stirred something deep within him.

You met his gaze, your own eyes wide with a mix of nerves and anticipation. With a gentle but firm grip, you guided him towards your entrance, your breath hitching as you felt the tip press against you.

Dean’s good hand remained braced above you, keeping his weight steady, but it was his other hand—the one with the broken arm—that surprised you. Carefully, tenderly, it moved to rest over yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you as his fingers brushed against yours. Despite his injury, the gesture was firm yet comforting, his broken arm moving just enough to help guide you.

“Easy, baby”, he murmured, his voice a soothing balm, low and rough with need but steady and calm. His green eyes locked onto yours, grounding you in his gaze. “Just like that”.

Dean’s broken arm stayed cradled protectively against his chest, but his fingers found their way to your hip, resting there lightly as if to steady you. Slowly, he began to ease himself inside you, his movements deliberate and measured.

You let out a soft whimper as the sensation overwhelmed you, the stretch coupled with the dull ache of your cramps making your body tense. Dean immediately noticed, his green eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and reassurance.

“Shh, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he paused, his thumb brushing soft, calming circles against your hip. “It’ll get better, I promise. Just give it a second”.

You nodded, biting your lip as you focused on his words, letting the warmth of his touch and the steady tone of his voice wash over you. Dean pressed his forehead gently against yours, his breath fanning over your face as he murmured again, “Breathe, baby. Just relax”.

Following his lead, you took a slow, shaky breath, letting the tension in your body ease just enough for him to push forward again, inch by inch. Dean’s lips brushed lightly against your temple. “That’s it”, he rasped, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart”.

Dean groaned low in his throat as he pressed deeper inside you. His fingers flexing against your skin as if to remind you that despite his injuries, he was still in control.

His forehead rested against yours, his green eyes dark with a mix of raw desire and something deeper, something possessive. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart”, he rasped.

You whimpered softly, the sound escaping your lips as your body tensed. The sharp ache of your cramps flared with the stretch, making your breath hitch. “I know, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the strain in his tone. “I can feel you tensing up. Just breathe for me, baby. I promise, it’ll get better”.

You whimpered again, your hands gripping his shoulders harder as your body trembled beneath him. Dean’s good hand moved slowly up your side, his thumb brushing tender circles against your skin in an effort to calm you. The contrast between his rough, calloused hand and his gentle touch sent a shiver through you, momentarily distracting you from the discomfort.

“You’re doing so good”, he rasped, his lips grazing your jawline as he pressed another inch deeper, his hips rolling with a deliberate slowness. “I know it’s intense, baby. But I’ll take care of you. Just trust me”.

The raw edge to his voice made your stomach flutter despite the pain, and you nodded shakily, your breath coming in short gasps as you tried to focus on the soothing rhythm of his movements. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he rocked into you again. “That’s it”, he murmured, his green eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so damn perfect".

The ache in your abdomen began to dull slightly, replaced by a spreading warmth that eased the tension in your body. Dean seemed to sense the change, his smirk returning as he moved a little deeper, his good hand gripping your hip firmly as he held you steady.

“See?”, he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as he spoke. “Told you it’d feel better”.

After a few thrusts, Dean´s muscles trembling slightly as he fought to keep himself steady. The strain was evident in the tightness of his jaw and the beads of sweat gathering at his temple. His broken arm remained cradled protectively against his chest, but the effort of holding himself up with only his good arm—and the pull on his injured chest—was taking its toll. Yet, even through the strain, his focus remained entirely on you.

You moaned softly, your body adjusting to him as the sharpness of your cramps began to dull more and more, replaced by a slow, building pleasure. Your hands moved instinctively to his shoulders, your fingers brushing over the tense muscles as if trying to steady him in return.

“Dean”, you whispered, your voice shaky as you looked up at him. “You don’t have to—”.

“Shh”, he interrupted, his voice rough but firm as his lips brushed over your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry about me”.

But you couldn’t help it. The way his arm trembled slightly, the way his chest heaved with the effort—it was clear this wasn’t easy for him. And yet, he refused to stop, refused to let his injuries hold him back.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, he muttered, his voice strained but full of heat. “You feel so good. So damn tight. Worth every second of this”.

You whimpered softly at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders more firmly as your body arched into his. The pressure inside you built with each slow thrust, the mix of pleasure and the sight of Dean’s determination making your heart race.

“You’re… killing me here”, he murmured, his lips brushing against yours before moving to your neck, where he pressed a series of lazy, open-mouthed kisses. “But damn, I don’t wanna stop”.

The sight of him—his raw, unrelenting strength, his refusal to let his injuries dictate the moment—made your chest tighten with emotion. You reached up, your hands sliding to his jaw as you guided his face back to yours, capturing his lips in a soft, desperate kiss.

And with that, he shifted his hips again, drawing another quiet moan from your lips as he pushed deeper. Every movement was slow and deliberate, as much for his sake as yours, but the intensity of it was enough to make your entire body tremble.

The tension in the room reached its peak as Dean’s deliberate movements pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His low groans, the sound of his uneven breathing, and the overwhelming intimacy of the moment were enough to send you spiraling. Your body tensed beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the wave of pleasure finally crested.

“Dean”, you whimpered, your voice breaking as the release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. The sensation was all-consuming, your muscles clenching tightly around him as your body arched into his.

Dean groaned deeply at the sensation, his hips faltering as he thrust into you one last time, the intensity of your release pushing him over the edge. His breath hitched, and with a low, guttural moan, he followed you into bliss. His body trembled with the effort, the strain evident as he emptied himself inside you, his head falling to rest against your shoulder.

Completely spent, Dean collapsed gently onto you. His good arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as his breathing came in short, ragged gasps. His broken arm remained cradled protectively between your bodies, though you could feel the faint tremor in his muscles from the effort he’d exerted.

For a few moments, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths. Dean’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he tried to catch his breath.

“You okay?”, he rasped, his voice low and rough as he shifted slightly, mindful of his injuries. Despite the strain, there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced up at you, his green eyes soft and full of affection.

You nodded, your fingers brushing gently through his sweat-dampened hair as you tried to steady your own breathing. “I’m… pretty fine”, you whispered, your voice trembling but sincere. “What about you? Are you okay?”.

Dean chuckled softly, though the sound was tinged with fatigue. “Better than okay”, he muttered, his lips pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone. “Damn near perfect”.

After a few long, quiet moments, Dean’s breathing began to steady, his body finally relaxing against yours. With a soft grunt, he shifted slightly, planting a kiss on your shoulder before lifting his head to meet your gaze. The faint smirk tugging at his lips was matched by the warmth in his green eyes, though the exhaustion lingering there was unmistakable.

“Alright, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice still rough as he slowly eased himself up. “Time to move before we’re stuck here all night”.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as he gently pulled out of you, careful not to rush or cause any discomfort. The sensation made you wince slightly, and your instinct was to glance down, curious about the inevitable mess you’d made. But before you could, Dean’s hand reached out, his fingers lightly brushing your chin to tilt your face back up to meet his gaze.

“Nuh-uh”, he said softly, his smirk softening into a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about that. Let’s take a shower instead”.

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the tenderness in his tone. “Dean, I should—”.

“Trust me”, he interrupted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, silencing your protest. “You’ve had enough to worry about the last few weeks. Let me take care of you”.

The conviction in his voice left no room for argument, and you nodded, your heart fluttering at the thoughtfulness behind his words. He grinned faintly at your agreement, his good arm wrapping around your waist as he carefully helped you sit up. Despite his obvious fatigue, Dean made sure to support you, his movements slow and deliberate as he guided you toward the edge of the bed.

“C’mon, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and gentle as he helped you to your feet. “Let’s get cleaned up”.

About a week later, the bunker had settled back into its usual quiet rhythm, though the tension of Dean’s slow recovery still lingered in the air. Dean was sitting in the library, his good arm resting lazily on the back of his chair while Sam leaned over him, carefully inspecting the stitches along his chest. The wound, though healing, was still an angry red, and Sam’s brow furrowed in concentration as he examined it.

Dean, as usual, looked impatient, his jaw set as he sat shirtless, his muscles flexing slightly with every subtle movement. His broken arm was still secured in a sling, though it didn’t stop him from shifting uncomfortably under Sam’s scrutiny.

“Hold still”, Sam muttered, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “These stitches look good, but you keep moving around too much, and you’re going to rip them open again”.

Dean rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “I’m fine, Sammy. You act like I’m on death’s door”.

Sam straightened, giving him a pointed look. “Because you were, Dean. You can’t keep acting like this is nothing”.

Dean’s smirk faltered slightly, but before Sam could press the point, your voice floated in from the doorway.

“Listen to him, Dean”, you said, stepping into the library with a cup of coffee in hand. Your gaze swept over the scene, and your heart did a little flip at the sight of Dean sitting there, topless and stubborn as ever. “He’s right, you know”.

Dean’s eyes flicked to you, and despite the irritation at being lectured, the corners of his mouth quirked into a softer, more genuine smile. “I’ve got two nurses now, huh?”, he teased, his voice low and warm.

“More like two babysitters”, you shot back, setting the coffee on the table and crossing your arms as you leaned against a chair. “You’re not exactly an easy patient”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he packed up the first-aid kit. “She’s not wrong”, he said, giving Dean a final once-over before stepping back. “Just keep the sling on and try not to do anything stupid”.

Dean snorted, leaning back in his chair as Sam walked off. “That’s asking a lot, don’t you think?”, he called after him, his grin widening before turning his attention back to you. His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he gestured to his chest. “So, how do the stitches look? Think they add to my charm?”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Only you would think scars make you more charming”.

Dean leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with that familiar intensity. “You like ’em, though”, he said softly, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You huffed, trying to keep your composure. “What I like”, you said, stepping closer, “is seeing you actually healing. So maybe listen to Sam for once and don’t rip them open”.

Dean’s smirk softened into something warmer as he reached out with his good hand, his fingers brushing against yours. “Yeah, yeah”, he murmured, his voice teasing but affectionate. “I’ll behave… for now”.

It had taken weeks, but Dean was nearly back to his old self—stubborn, self-reliant, and unwilling to show any sign of weakness. On the outside, he seemed fine, even smug about how well he’d healed, but something had shifted. He wasn’t the same with you anymore, and it hurt.

The past few nights had been the hardest. Dean, who had once insisted on having you by his side every night, now seemed to avoid asking you to join him. He’d retreat to his room alone, leaving you to wonder what you’d done wrong. He hadn’t touched you, hadn’t even kissed you, and the absence of his warmth was like a hole in your chest that kept growing wider.

You’d tried to brush it off, telling yourself he was just readjusting, that he’d come around. But as the days dragged on, his distance felt more deliberate, and your patience was wearing thin.

This morning, you found him in the kitchen. The bunker was quiet, Sam still in bed and the world still dark outside. Dean stood at the counter, his back to you, nursing a mug of coffee. His broad shoulders were hunched slightly, his posture tense despite the casual scene. He didn’t turn when you entered, but you knew he’d heard you—Dean always noticed everything.

“Morning”, you said softly, hesitant as you moved closer. Your voice carried the weight of everything you hadn’t said in the past few days.

Dean glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable, before turning back to his coffee. “Morning”, he muttered, his voice gruff and distant.

You frowned, the knot in your stomach tightening. “You’re up early”.

“Couldn’t sleep”, he replied, taking a sip from his mug. His tone was clipped, and he didn’t elaborate.

You hesitated for a moment, your nerves tangling in your chest as you debated what to do. Dean was pulling away, for whatever fucking reasons and you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed to try—needed to bridge the gap between you. Taking a shaky breath, you bit your lip and stepped closer, your fingers brushing softly against his biceps. His warmth seeped into your skin as you leaned in, standing on your tiptoes to bring yourself closer.

“Maybe that’s because I’m not in your bed”, you murmured softly, trying to inject a bit of lightness into your voice, though the vulnerability behind your words was impossible to miss.

Dean barely flinched at first, his grip tightening slightly on his coffee mug. His jaw ticked, his eyes flicking down to where your hand rested against his arm, but he didn’t pull away. The tension in his body was palpable, and while he didn’t respond, the subtle shift in his posture—his muscles tightening beneath your touch, the faint hitch in his breath—told you he’d felt it. Felt you.

What he didn’t want you to know was that the second you pressed yourself so close, the heat of your body against his, the softness of your voice, it hit him like a truck. Desire flared through him, unbidden and overwhelming. He could feel himself hardening instantly, his body betraying every effort to keep himself in check. But he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay still, to keep the space between you—even though every part of him screamed to close it.

“Don’t”, he said finally, his voice rough, though it lacked the edge it might have carried before.

You leaned back, crossing your arms, your gaze steady and determined despite the nervous energy thrumming through you. “Don’t what?”, you asked, your voice soft but firm. “What’s going on, Dean? You’ve been pulling away for days, and I don’t understand why”.

His green eyes flicked to yours for a moment before darting away, his shoulders tense and his posture rigid. He didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to admit what was really going on. The truth sat heavy in his chest, threatening to spill over, but Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who talked about his feelings—not easily, anyway.

You didn’t know it, but Dean was ashamed. He hated how the last few weeks had unfolded, how vulnerable and weak he’d been in front of you. Dean loved being the strong one, the one who protected you, guided you, and showed you everything. He loved knowing he was your first for so many things—your first kiss, your first love, your first everything. It gave him a sense of purpose, a role he understood and embraced.

But now? Now, you’d seen him at his lowest. You’d seen him unable to stand on his own, struggling with pain, relying on you for things he should’ve been able to do himself. Instead of being the unshakable force in your life, he’d become someone you had to care for, someone you had to worry about. And that wasn’t what you deserved—not in his eyes.

“Dean”, you pressed, your tone tinged with frustration as you stepped closer again. “Talk to me. Please. You’re shutting me out, and I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong".

He let out a low, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”, he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “You shouldn’t have to fix anything. Not for me”.

You frowned, your heart twisting at the bitterness in his tone. “What are you talking about?”.

Dean finally met your gaze, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your breath catch. “You’ve seen too much”, he admitted quietly, his voice raw. “I’m supposed to be the strong one. The guy who keeps you safe, who takes care of you. Not some… burden. Not someone you have to look after like a damn kid”.

The confession hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t expected that. “Dean, you’re not a burden”, you said firmly, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted to help you. I wanted to take care of you. That’s what people do when they love each other”.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You shouldn’t have to”, he murmured. “You’re too young for this—for me. You should be out there, living your life, being carefree. Not stuck here, babysitting me”.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling to the surface as you crossed your arms tighter over your chest. “Dean”, you said, your voice laced with exasperation, “are we seriously doing this again? I thought we talked through all of that already”.

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, well, maybe we didn’t talk enough”, he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

You took a step closer, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Dean, I don’t care about the age difference. I don’t care about any of the crap you keep throwing up as reasons why I shouldn’t be with you. None of it matters to me”.

“It should”, he snapped, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself and softened. “It should matter. You deserve better than this—better than me. I’m broken, and you’re… you’re young, and bright, and you shouldn’t be tied down to someone who—”.

“Stop”, you interrupted sharply, your voice steady even though your chest was tight. “Do you really think you get to decide what I deserve? What I want?”.

Dean faltered, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. You took another step forward, closing the distance between you until you were standing toe-to-toe. “Because if you do”, you continued, your voice trembling slightly with emotion, “then you’re not the man I thought you were”.

That seemed to hit him like a slap. His eyes widened slightly, and he looked at you as though you’d just punched him in the gut. “That’s not—”, he started, his voice breaking. “That’s not what I’m saying”.

“Then what are you saying, Dean?”, you challenged, your tone softening but still firm. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re trying to push me away for reasons that don’t make sense”.

Dean’s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darting away as if he could find the words he needed somewhere in the empty air. You could see the war in his mind, the way his shoulders tensed and his chest rose and fell with restrained emotion. He was holding back, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it this time.

“Dean”, you pressed, your voice firm but trembling with the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “Talk to me. Please".

He hesitated for a long moment, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fought to keep his emotions in check. But the dam finally broke, and when he spoke, his voice was heavy with self-loathing. “I hate that you saw me like that”, he admitted, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I hate that you had to take care of me, that you saw me weak, useless. I hate that I needed you like that”.

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. “Dean—”.

“No”.

Dean’s voice cracked as he cut you off, his emotions threatening to spill over despite his best efforts to keep them buried. He raked a hand through his short hair, his frustration evident in the sharp exhale that escaped his lips. “You don’t get it”, he said, his voice rising slightly before it dropped again, quieter, darker. “You weren’t supposed to see me like that. Not you”.

You stayed silent, giving him the space to say what he needed, even though your heart ached at the anger he was directing inward. He took a shaky breath, his green eyes blazing with a mix of shame and vulnerability that he hated showing, especially to you.

“Do you have any idea how it felt?”, he continued, his words clipped, raw. “Lying there, useless, while you ran around taking care of me like… like I’m some damn invalid? I’m supposed to be the one looking after you. Protecting you. Hell, I’m twice your age, and all I’ve been doing is dragging you down, making you worry about me instead of letting you live your life”.

His words hit you like a freight train, and your chest tightened at the weight of his pain. “Dean, that’s not—”.

“I’m supposed to be a man”, he bit out, his tone tinged with bitterness. “Not someone you have to babysit. Not someone who can’t even pull his own damn weight. And every time I looked at you these past few weeks, all I could see was how much I’ve failed you. I’m not invincible anymore, and the last thing I want is for you to see that”.

You stepped closer, but he flinched slightly, his defenses still firmly in place. His gaze flicked to you briefly before he looked away again, ashamed to let you see just how deep this wound went. It wasn’t just his pride—it was his entire sense of self. Dean had spent his life building himself into this protector, this unshakable force of nature, and the idea of you seeing him weak, human, was unbearable.

You stepped closer, your heart aching at the raw pain in Dean’s words. The tension between you was thick, his vulnerability hanging in the air like a fragile thread threatening to snap. You couldn’t let him spiral further into his own self-loathing. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to cup his jaw, to pull his gaze back to yours.

But before you could make contact, Dean’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with more force than he probably intended. The grip was firm, almost desperate, and you froze at the sudden contact. His eyes snapped to yours, wide and filled with something that looked like regret, as if he immediately realized what he’d done.

“Don’t”, he said hoarsely, his voice low and rough, his grip loosening slightly but not letting go entirely. “Don’t look at me like that. Like you don’t care about what you saw. Like it doesn’t matter”.

You stared at him, your pulse quickening as his words sank in. “Dean”, you whispered, your voice trembling, “it doesn’t matter. It never did”.

His jaw clenched, his grip finally releasing your wrist as he stepped back, running a hand over his face. “You don’t get it”, he muttered, his frustration spilling over. “It should matter. I’ve spent my whole life being the guy who fixes things, who protects people. And now, what the hell am I? A liability? Someone you have to take care of?”.

His words cut deep, but not in the way he intended. You took a steadying breath, refusing to let him push you away. “You’re still that guy, Dean”, you said firmly, stepping closer again despite his retreat. “You’re still the one who protects me, who keeps me safe. But even you’re allowed to need help sometimes. That doesn’t make you less of a man”.

He let out a bitter laugh, his shoulders sagging as he turned his head away, unable to meet your gaze. “It sure as hell feels like it”.

You stood there, your heart pounding as the weight of Dean’s self-loathing filled the room. His words hung in the air, sharp and raw, and you knew this wasn’t just about his injuries or the past few weeks—it was about how he saw himself. Dean had built his entire identity around being the protector, the strong one, and now he felt like he’d lost that. The man you loved was crumbling under the pressure of his own insecurities, and you couldn’t let him drown in it.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to figure out what to say, how to reach him. You knew him too well, knew that this wasn’t something a simple “you’re enough” would fix. He needed something more, something that would remind him he was still the same man—the man you loved, the man who made your knees weak and your heart race.

It took every ounce of courage you had to finally say the words that had been swirling in your mind. You stepped closer, your voice trembling as you whispered, “Fuck me”.

Dean froze, his eyes snapping to yours in shock. For a moment, it was like time stood still. His green eyes widened, his jaw tightening as your words sank in. “What?”, he rasped, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t back down. “I said… fuck me”, you repeated, your voice steadier this time.

Dean stood frozen for a beat, your words hitting him like a freight train. His green eyes darkened, the vulnerability and doubt in them giving way to something deeper, something primal. His jaw worked as he tried to process the sudden shift in the air, but it was clear your words had struck a nerve—the kind that didn’t just tug at his heart but at every fiber of his being.

You took a shaky step closer, your hand brushing against his chest as you looked up at him, your cheeks burning but your voice steady. “Show me, Dean”, you murmured, your tone soft but laced with a quiet confidence. “Show me how much of a man you are. Because I’m sure no one—no one—can give me what you do”.

Dean’s breathing hitched, his nostrils flaring as the weight of your words sank in. You pressed your hand more firmly against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“No one else can make my knees shake the way you do”, you continued, your voice dipping lower as you held his gaze. “No one else can kiss me, touch me, make me moan like you do. No one else can make me come so hard I forget my own name”.

The shift in Dean’s expression was immediate, the self-loathing that had clouded his features melting away as the heat of your words took over. His jaw tightened, and his good hand shot out, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The intensity of his touch made your breath hitch, and you could feel him—rock hard against you, the blood from his worrying head clearly having taken a detour south.

Dean’s grip on your waist tightened, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you. His green eyes burned with an intensity that made your knees weak, but there was something softer beneath the hunger—a flicker of hesitation, of restraint that you recognized all too well.

“Please”, you murmured, your voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and anticipation. You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, the innocence in your expression juxtaposed with the boldness of your words. “Show me how good it can feel, Dean. When you’re not holding back”.

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as his good hand slid from your waist to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Sweetheart”, he rasped, his voice rough, strained. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do”, you whispered, leaning into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. “I know you’ve been holding back, Dean. Ever since… since the first time. But I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not scared, and I trust you”.

Dean groaned low in his throat, his thumb freezing against your cheek as he stared at you, his resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. “You have no idea what you do to me”, he muttered, his voice darkening with the primal edge you’d only seen glimpses of before. “No idea how many nights I’ve laid awake, thinking about giving you everything, about making you scream my name until you can’t even think straight”.

You whimpered softly at his confession, your body trembling against his as the heat between you grew unbearable. “You sure you can handle it?”.

“Yes”, you whispered, barely able to get the word out as the intensity of his presence overwhelmed you. “Please, Dean”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall @lilbloggs @emily-

[star--anon]

never mind I'm not normal

imagine Newt sneaking into the Map Room and gently hugging Minho from behind as he peruses the Maps with a blind frenzy

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[droloismo]

i just know that dream and louis would absolutely get each other FUCK

[missarchive]

american jesus² ☆

spencer reid

part one part two part three part four

summary; Spencer continues to spoil you with thoughtful gifts and lavish attention, each gesture reinforcing the growing bond between you both. Despite the lingering questions and unspoken emotions, Spencer becomes more protective and possessive, revealing his vulnerability and need to care of you. As you begin to navigate the complexities of your unconventional arrangement, the lines between business and genuine affection begin to blur, leaving you both caught between desire and uncertainty.

cw; +18 minors dni, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk, munch!spencer, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, reader calls spencer "sir"

an; thank you for so so much love on the first part! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

You exchanged messages almost daily after that. His words were always careful, deliberate, as if he’d spent hours considering each one. He asked about your life—not in a prying way, but with genuine curiosity. He wanted to know your interests, your struggles, the little details that most people overlooked.

In return, he offered glimpses of himself. He told you about his love of books, how his job kept him busy and isolated, and how he’d joined the site not for anything shallow, but because he craved a connection that he hadn’t found anywhere else.

As the days turned into weeks, your messages grew longer, more personal. You learned that he didn’t like crowded places, that he drank too much tea, and that he had a habit of quoting obscure facts when he was nervous.

But despite the growing intimacy of your conversations, there was always a wall between you—a hesitance to reveal too much. Neither of you had shared your real name or details about your work. It wasn’t unusual for this kind of arrangement, but it made everything feel more fragile, like the wrong word could shatter whatever it was you were building.

And then, one night, he sent a message that changed everything.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve been thinking... I’d like to meet you in person. If you’re comfortable, of course.

Your heart raced as you read the words. You had been expecting this—waiting for it, even—but now that it was here, you weren’t sure what to say.

@ laceandliterature; Are you sure? 

@ thefourthdoctor; I am. But only if you feel ready. I don’t want you to feel pressured.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to meet him—you couldn’t deny that. But there was a part of you that was afraid. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you weren’t what he expected?

@ laceandliterature; Let’s take a little more time. I’m not saying no. Just... not yet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Of course.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ll wait as long as you need. No pressure.

The conversation continued, and for the next week, things went back to normal—if what you had could even be called that. But the thought of meeting lingered at the back of your mind, growing stronger with every message he sent, every piece of himself he shared.

One night, as you lay in bed, scrolling through his messages, you made up your mind.

@ laceandliterature; Okay, Let’s meet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Are you sure, angel?

@ thefourthdoctor; Yes. I want to meet you, Spencer.

After a few more exchanges, you settled on a quiet café in the city—neutral territory. He insisted on keeping things casual, saying he didn’t want to overwhelm you. If anything, he was a gentleman.

The night before the meeting, you barely slept. You went over everything in your mind a hundred times, questioning your decision, wondering if you were making a mistake. But when the time came, you found yourself standing outside the café, heart pounding as you pushed the door open.

The first time you met Spencer in person, it wasn’t anything like you expected. You had imagined someone cocky, a man accustomed to throwing his money around to get what he wanted. But Spencer wasn’t that. Not even close.

He had chosen a quiet café for your meeting, one tucked away from the bustling city streets, its low lighting and intimate atmosphere offering a sense of privacy. When you arrived, you saw him sitting at a corner table, his long fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, his gaze fixed on a well-worn book.

You almost didn’t approach him. He looked so out of place, like someone who had wandered in by accident, unaware of the implications of what this kind of meeting entailed. But then he glanced up, and his eyes met yours.

You’d recognise those eyes anywhere. They were just as captivating as they had been in his profile picture—intelligent, kind, and curious, but with an edge of something deeper, something darker.

“Hi,” you said, hesitating at the edge of the table.

Spencer stood quickly, his movements awkward but endearing. “Hi. Please, uh, sit. I—I’m Spencer.”

His voice was softer than you expected, but there was a certainty to it that made you feel at ease. As you slid into the chair across from him, you couldn’t help but study him. He was... handsome. 

His hair, a dark cascade of curls that fell just past his shoulders, framed his face like the softest of shadows. Each strand seemed to have a life of its own, unruly and free, yet perfectly suited to him, like a secret kept between the universe and his skin. The golden highlights that kissed the tips caught the light in a way that made him seem almost ethereal, as if sunlight was always seeking to touch him, to linger just a little longer.

His eyes—those eyes—the colour of moss after rain, deep and mysterious, filled with an intelligence that left you feeling both seen and understood, and yet so very far away. There was a quiet intensity in the way they studied everything around him, always searching, always analysing, as though the world was a puzzle he had yet to fully solve. But when they turned toward you, it felt like he was letting the world slip away, if only for a moment, letting you glimpse the tenderness he rarely allowed anyone to see.

His face, pale and angular, was sharp with youth and burdened wisdom all at once. His lips, though soft and pale, would part when he spoke, revealing a mix of shyness and urgency, like every word he shared carried weight. The stubble that traced the sharp edge of his jawline only emphasised the boyishness that lingered beneath the layers of genius and mystery. But it was his smile—rare and fleeting—that truly made your chest ache, a smile that cracked through the fortress around him, like the sun breaking through clouds.

There was something effortlessly magnetic about him, something that made you want to inch closer to understand the stories written in the lines of his face. And yet, just as quickly as he drew you in, there was always an invisible barrier, a space between you and the man that you were still trying to figure out. Spencer Reid was an enigma wrapped in vulnerability, each glance, each gesture, leaving you wanting more of the puzzle to unfold.

The first few minutes were stilted, filled with polite small talk about the weather and the café’s menu. But as the conversation flowed, the tension between you began to ease. Spencer wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. He spoke with a quiet intensity, his words precise and thoughtful, and he listened just as intently, as if everything you said held a weight he couldn’t ignore.

And then, inevitably, the topic shifted to why you were both there.

“So,” he began, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “I’m not, um... particularly experienced with this kind of arrangement.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candour. “You mean being a sugar daddy?”

He winced slightly at the term but nodded. “Yes. That. I—I don’t want you to think that I see this as transactional, at least not in the way it’s usually framed. I’m looking for... connection, I suppose. Someone to talk to. To spend time with. And if financial support is part of that, then I’m happy to provide it.”

His words caught you off guard. Most men on the site were upfront about their intentions—dinners in exchange for companionship, gifts in exchange for discretion. But Spencer’s tone was different. He wasn’t trying to seduce you or impress you with his wealth. He was just... honest.

You leaned back in your chair, studying him. “And what do you expect from me?”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting yours again. “I don’t have expectations. I only have... hopes. That you’ll be honest with me. That we can build something that feels mutually beneficial. And if, at any point, you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me. No strings, no pressure.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your chest tighten. This wasn’t a game to him. It wasn’t about power or control. It was about something deeper, something more human.

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “I think we can make that work.”

Over the next few weeks, your relationship settled into a rhythm. Spencer was generous, but not in a way that felt overbearing. And then there was the money.

He transferred it to your account without fanfare, always with a note attached. For groceries. For that art class you mentioned. For you.

At first, it felt strange, accepting so much from him. But Spencer never made it feel transactional. He never demanded anything in return, never made you feel like you owed him. It was simply his way of showing he cared.

The calls became a nightly ritual. He’d ask about your day, encouraging you to share every mundane detail as though it were the most important thing in the world. He never interrupted, never rushed you, and his thoughtful responses made you feel like the centre of his universe.

In return, you learned more about his life. He told you about the pressures of his job, the long hours, the cases that weighed on him. But he never dwelled on the darkness. Instead, he focused on the small joys: the satisfaction of solving a puzzle, the camaraderie of his team, the books he escaped into when the world felt too heavy.

And then there were the gifts.

It started with little things: a beautifully bound notebook because you’d mentioned wanting to journal, a box of your favourite chocolates, a scarf in your favourite colour. But soon, the gifts became more extravagant.

A delivery driver showed up at your door one afternoon with a box containing a designer handbag you’d admired in passing. Another day, you received an email confirming that Spencer had paid off your car loan, the subject line reading simply: You deserve this.

“Spencer,” you said when you called him that night, clutching the phone tightly. “You didn’t have to do that. I never asked for—”

“I know you didn’t,” he interrupted gently. “But I wanted to. Please let me do this for you.”

It was hard to argue with him when he sounded so sincere.

The next time you met in person, he handed you a small velvet box across the table. You opened it to find a delicate gold bracelet, simple but exquisite, the kind of thing that felt like it belonged in a museum.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice catching. “This is too much.”

His expression softened, his fingers brushing against yours as he helped you fasten the bracelet around your wrist. “Nothing I give you will ever feel like enough,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “But I’ll keep trying.”

He spoiled you in other ways too. He insisted on picking up the check whenever you went out, no matter how much you protested. When you mentioned that your laptop was acting up, a brand-new one arrived at your doorstep the next day.

But it wasn’t just about the money or the gifts. It was the way he made you feel cherished, valued, as though your happiness was the most important thing in the world to him.

One night, as you lay in bed after a long call, you found yourself smiling at the thought of him. It was more than just an arrangement now. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to care about him—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

The low hum of your phone’s speaker filled the quiet of your bedroom as you lay sprawled across your bed, Spencer’s voice soothing and familiar on the other end of the line. Tonight’s call had started like all the others—a mix of light teasing and genuine curiosity—but somewhere along the way, you felt the tone shift.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, fiddling with the bracelet he’d given you, its delicate chain glinting in the soft light of your bedside lamp.

“Of course,” Spencer replied, his voice gentle.

“How do you afford all of this?” you asked, hesitant but unable to keep the question bottled up any longer. “The gifts, the...everything. I mean, you’re so generous, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but I can’t help but wonder.”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough for doubt to creep into your mind. You opened your mouth to take it back, but then he spoke, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s a fair question,” he said softly. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

You heard him exhale, the sound heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

“I wasn’t always this...comfortable,” he began. “For most of my life, I never cared much about money. I didn’t really need to. My job covered the basics, and I didn’t have anyone to spend it on—not until now.”

His words made your heart tighten.

“What kind of job?” you asked tentatively.

“I was with the FBI,” he said, and though his tone was steady, there was a weight behind the words. “I worked as a criminal profiler for over a decade. It wasn’t easy, but it was...fulfilling, in its own way. We dealt with some of the worst humanity has to offer, but knowing we were helping people made it worth it.”

You sat up a little straighter, the revelation catching you off guard. “That sounds...intense.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But I loved it. The work gave me purpose. Until I got injured in the field,” he said quietly. “A knee injury. Nothing life-threatening, but bad enough that I couldn’t keep up with the demands of the job. I had to retire early.”

You could hear the mix of resignation and lingering frustration in his voice, and it tugged at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, meaning it.

“Don’t be,” he replied, a hint of a smile creeping back into his tone. “It gave me time to focus on other things��like figuring out what I wanted out of life. I realised I’d spent so much of my time chasing after criminals and trying to make the world a safer place, but I’d never really lived for myself.”

You bit your lip, unsure what to say.

“I had money saved up,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “I never spent much on myself. Just the necessities and the occasional book. So, when I found myself with all this extra time and money... I didn’t know what to do with it. And then I found the site.”

The mention of the website—the place where your strange, beautiful relationship had begun—sent a rush of warmth and something like embarrassment through you.

“I wasn’t looking for anything romantic,” he said quickly, as though reading your mind. “I just wanted...connection. Someone to talk to. And then I found you.”

You smiled, your heart softening. “And now you’re spoiling me rotten.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I don’t see it that way. I like taking care of you. It makes me happy.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “You don’t have to, though. You’ve already done so much.”

“I want to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I spent years putting my energy into a job that left me drained. Now, I finally get to do something that feels good. Something that matters to me. And you matter to me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion.

“Spencer,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your heart full.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that no matter how unconventional your relationship was, it worked. For both of you.

The next time you saw each other, things were different. You could feel the air between you crackling with an electric charge. The conversation flowed easily, but there was an undeniable tension lingering beneath the surface. Every touch seemed to hold more weight, every glance more meaningful.

After dinner, Spencer invited you back to his apartment. You could tell he was being cautious—he didn’t want to rush anything—but you could also feel that he was testing boundaries, subtly claiming his space. As you sat next to him on his worn out leather couch, his hand brushed against yours, and it felt like the world narrowed down to just the two of you. The quiet intimacy of the moment was powerful, and you both knew you couldn’t keep pretending that your relationship was just a simple arrangement anymore.

His voice broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said, his words low, careful. “About what we’re doing, and what it means. I can’t keep giving you everything and pretending it’s nothing. It’s not just about the money or the gifts anymore. I want to be more than that for you.”

You felt a surge of emotion, something between excitement and fear. This was what you had been afraid of—the moment when you’d realise that you wanted more, that this wasn’t just some transaction for you either. And you could see in Spencer’s eyes that he was struggling with the same feelings.

“I don’t want you to think that I only care about the money,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. 

Spencer���s gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand slipping into yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I can’t stop myself from wanting to give you everything. I’m not used to feeling like this. Like I’m needed. I’ve spent so much of my life in control, always keeping my distance... but with you, it’s different.”

You squeezed his hand, understanding what he meant. You didn’t need him to explain further. There was an unspoken connection between you two now—a bond that was undeniable, something more than the surface-level arrangement you’d initially started with.

“I want to give you everything too,” you said softly, leaning in closer. “But you have to promise me something—promise me that this isn’t just about the money. Promise me that you actually want me.”

Spencer’s eyes held yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, his gaze so deep it felt as though he could see every hidden part of you. The air between you thickened, the unspoken tension finally reaching its breaking point. He took a slow step forward, the warmth of his body enveloping you, and for a heartbeat, everything else ceased to exist.

His hand lifted, cupping your cheek in a soft, yet possessive way, as if he was both cherishing and claiming you all at once. “I promise,” the gentle brush of his thumb over your skin sent a flutter through your chest, and before you could process it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, savouring the newness of it. But the moment you responded, the kiss deepened, urgency flooding in. Spencer’s lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the racing pulse in your veins. His hands, once gentle, now framed your face with a desperate kind of need, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Every touch, every press of his lips against yours, was electric. You could feel the raw intensity of everything he was holding back in that kiss—the longing, the desire, the tension of months spent on the edge, waiting for this moment. And when his tongue traced the line of your lower lip, a quiet gasp escaped you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, drawing you in like a magnet.

Your hands, almost instinctively, found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands that had once teased you from a distance, now so close you could feel the weight of them. His hair was soft, the strands slipping between your fingers as you tugged him closer, urging him to kiss you more fiercely.

As he kissed his way down your body, you could feel the anticipation building inside of you. You loved how he savoured you, like a piece of art he needed to take his time with. His fingers slid along your inner thighs, spreading you open for him. He groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your clit. “Look at you. Already dripping wet for me. What am I gonna do with you? Perfect, perfect girl.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his tongue swirled around your clit, the sensation of his warm mouth sending waves of pleasure through you. You arched your back off the couch, your hands tangling in his hair.

“Please,” you begged, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pressure building. “Please, sir. Please make me cum.”

Spencer moaned, his tongue dipping inside of you before returning to your clit. Teasing it gently with his tongue, his fingers slipping inside of you, working you open. You were already close, your walls tightening around his fingers as he fucked them into you slowly. Picking up the pace, his mouth latched onto your clit as you fell apart, your body trembling with your orgasm. 

Spencer didn’t give you a second to catch your breath before he was kissing you again, his tongue pushing past your lips to taste you, tip of his cock nudging against your cunt. You weren’t even sure when he’d taken his clothes off, not that it mattered now. You whimpered as he slid inside of you, his cock stretching you open. He pulled back slightly, hips rolling against your own. “Keep your eyes open,” he commanded. “Need to see your face when you cum. Need to see what I do to you.”

You nodded, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he picked up the pace. He was relentless, slamming into you with deep, powerful thrusts. 

You weren’t used to coming more than once in a row, with your poor excuses of previous partners, but with Spencer, it felt natural. He pushed you higher than you knew was possible, taking you to the edge of sanity every time you were together. And when you came, it was like a floodgate opened up, and all of that pent-up desire came pouring out of you.

He was whispering things to you, things that made you blush and preen, words that made you feel beautiful, wanted. You’d never felt like this before. You felt like a completely different person with him, someone who was capable of more than you ever thought.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Give it to me, princess. Let me feel you. Fuck, you feel so good around me,” he kissed you deeply as he drove inside of you, the pressure inside of you growing. “Cum for me, angel. Cum all over my cock.”

You heard him through a haze, your body trembling and shaking as the second orgasm rolled through you. You felt his cock pulse inside of you as he came, his teeth sinking gently into your neck as he rode out his own release. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him as close as possible as you hold onto him, his body pressing into yours.

Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, he whispers into your skin. “Stay the night?” He asked. “I don’t want you to leave yet, just got you here.” His voice was soft, gentle, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. You didn’t want to go either. You wanted to stay like this, wrapped up in his arms, for as long as possible. And that terrified you more than anything else. “Please?”

He looked at you, his eyes dark and sincere. Your heart fluttered at the look he was giving you. It was one you’d never seen before, one that made your breath catch in your throat.

 It was a look that said he wanted more, and that scared you. But it also filled you with a warmth you couldn’t deny.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Okay.” And as Spencer pulled you back into his arms, kissing you gently, you realised that you might just be in trouble. He was already pulling you in, tempting you to stay. You were already falling for him, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop it. “I’ll stay.” You agreed.

 “For tonight.” You added. You weren’t going to admit to more than that, not yet. “Just tonight.” Spencer nodded, his lips returning to yours.

You knew it was dangerous, you knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You wanted to be his, even if it was just for one night. You wanted to let him own you, let him love you. Even if it was just temporary, you wanted to feel that love for as long as you could. You knew it would hurt in the end, but you were too far gone to stop it now.

And when he whispered your name against your lips, you almost believed that it was real. That this wasn’t just temporary, but forever. Almost. You allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment, to believe the things he whispered to you. To believe that maybe this was it.

Maybe he was your forever, and you were his. Maybe this was something that could last longer than just one night.

Won't you take me to heaven tonight? You know you're my weakness American Jesus, save me You're the greatest love of my life

next part

[gatorbites-imagines]

Logan begging for it.... so sweetly we cant refuse..... when he knows reader needs his sleep..... taking it in his even when it stays soft...... cockwarming reader while we sleeps.....

Yes im writing whis as I fall asleep

Logan Howlett x male reader

headcanons

I was gonna write a longer thing, but a migraine decided to kick my ass all of a sudden, so here I am simply rambling about this.

Imagine having a normal but exhausting day job. You’re no hero, no vigilante, no nothing, you’re just a guy. And you somehow ended up charming the pants off of The Wolverine of all people. How? You have no idea

Dating Logan is a real treat, even with his roughness and sometimes standoffish personality. When you guys really get close, he starts to get more vulnerable.

Along with vulnerable emotionally, he also starts to get a much stronger libido, seeing as he has a partner now. Him having a healing factor doesn’t help you in this case, since it means he has very little recovery time.

Seeing Logan, one would think hed be the dominant one, something you assumed in the beginning too. That was until you guys got intimate the first time and he shoved you onto your back to ride you instead.

There were no complaints from you obviously, because who’d mind having someone like that riding you? Logan in his broad, hairy and so very heavy way, lifting himself up and down on you like it was barely a workout.

You have to remind him to be careful though, multiple times, seeing as his bones make him extra heavy, and your poor hips are that of the average person.

Having a partner with a libido like that though, also means Logan is always raring to go, almost waiting for you by the door when you get home from your shift, like an old gruff dog waiting for affection.

The first week or two of you coming home dead on your feet and passing out on the couch the moment you sat down passed… as well as they could for Logan. He wouldn’t force you to do anything you hadn’t agreed with, but God, is he starting to get antsy.

After way too long, in Logans opinion at least, he finally can’t take it anymore. Being the Loverboy he secretly is, he at least brings you to your shared bed before clambering on top of you again.

You’re just too exhausted to do much other than pet at his thighs, eyes already drooping, but his almost timid but so desperate begging keeps you awake longer than other days. When you sleepily agree, Logan kisses you so hungrily you almost lose your breath.

You stay somewhat awake in the beginning as he works your clothes off, being kind enough not to rip it even if logan really really wanted too. He knows its your work clothes, and you’ve scolded him enough times about ripping up your clothes at this point.

It was hard to even really stay awake as Logan worked you hard, just enough for him to slide down on you, his groans sounding like he was a starving man having his first bite of food in weeks. Had you not been struggling to keep your eyes open, you might have teased him.

When Logan leans forward and just rests his weight on you, that was the last straw. Who could stay awake with such a warm heavy weight pressing down on them, like your own personal weighted wolverine blanket.

Logan didn’t even really feel the need to ride you or get himself off, he just wanted to be close to you like this, to feel you inside him and press up against you. So having slowly doze off under him wasn’t a bother, especially as you mumble for him to just keep going.

Most of the night is majorly used by Logan to just tuck his face into your neck and huff your scent, or rub his own against you. You will wake up with beard burns, sorry but those at the rules. Theres probably some chew marks and hickeys mixed in there too, Logans possessive.

You do wake up with very sore hips the next morning. In the comics he’s 300 lbs, but that’s with his comic height, so if were going off of movie Logan he weighs even more. And no matter how much you work out, that’s gotta make you sore.

You don’t really mind though, especially as Logan makes sure you massage your hips in ways you didn’t even know were possible. This also just gives Logan an excuse to lick and gnaw at you more, and to rub more of his scent into you, and yours into him.

Yes, you limp that day, and probably the day after. Luckily you’re able to work from home. This of course also means you have Logan on your dick the entire time, even if its just your mutant lover crawling under the blanket to get his mouth on you.

[blubunz]

DEEP INSIDE

— sub! old! leon s. kennedy x f! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: grinding, thigh riding, riding, whimpering, hand job, overstimulation, handcuffed... bondage? dacryphilia, tits sucking.

A/N: I hate it when I have to feed myself,, I need to know if there's any old! sub! Leon fic out there, give...give... also I'll write for RE2 Leon soon just don't know when but I will. For now, I hope u guys enjoy old! sub! Leon.

You can see through him, Leon's not that good at hiding himself. Through that frown and that agitated look, you know how expressive he actually is. Face full of sorrow after hearing every bad news, eyes showing concern when someone gets hurt, he tries to hide, but you can see it.

Most people show indifference towards Leon, he hardly has a stable live life, and as he grows older, his yearning for love growing stronger despite his tongue speaking the opposite.

You step into his life and get him to follow you like a dog. Despite his intimidating look, you can see a flicker of vulnerability under those eyes. His younger self never dies, just hidden under the rough layers of what this world had done to him.

You reach out and manage to see that side of him, giving him gentle kisses and kind acts, you look so sincere, so full of affection when he's with you. Leon goes speechless sometimes, acting like a shy puppy when you say something nice about him, he tries to brush it off with a sarcastic remark or some bad jokes, but you touch his heart the way no one else could.

Same goes with sex, some might think he'd be this rough-around-the-edge guy, the look on his face makes it look like he can give you a good time and calling you princess while manhandling you on the bed.

It was like that at first, but you want to see that side of him, the young Leon who used to be so passionate and obedient.

So here you are, grinding your wet cunt against his aching cock, your nail gently sliding his foreskin down, revealing his cute tip leaking just as much as you are. His hands tied behind his back, squeezing and pulling on the bedsheets below.

Leon groans, head tilting back and eyes rolling up, you can see his Adam apple bobbing as he tries to swallow his moans. Leon thinks moaning aren't for older men like him, he's embarrassed, ashamed of being so vulnerable after hiding himself for so long. He wants to act tough, to let everyone know they can't kill him, but it seems that you've broken it.

A long whine squeezes out of his throat — high pitched, breathless and needy. He looks at you through his squinted eyes brimming with tears as you stroke his cock slowly, your hips matching your hand movement as you grind on his bare, hairy thigh.

“Shit— Shit— Mngh!” Leon frantically curses out, hips bucking up to your hand, trying desperately to get you to stroke him properly. “Fuck, fuck! Y-You can't—”

His head rolls all the way back, and you can see his face turning like those anime girls that some guys watch to goon too. Cum trickling out like a fountain, white globs running over your hand, warmth enveloping you as they trail down to his balls, and on the sheets. Honestly you'd play with yourself when looking at that too.

So you did, you took a quick picture of his blissed out face, before resuming your pace on his cock. His cum makes things so much easier to fuck, wetter sounds fill the room with glee.

“No, de-delete tha—aaah...fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—”

He grits his teeth, drool dribbling down his chin and stubble, you can't help but lick it off, trailing to his lips for a sloppy kiss, prying his mouth open so you can hear more of those hidden moans. He looks so different than usual. Brows furrowing upwards as you two lock lips, feeling you bite into his lower lip, soothing it with your tongue and sliding said tongue inside his mouth, swirling around his.

Leon cries, mumbling something about you going faster. He's so cute, trying to threaten you and taking control, yet you're not the one being tied up. You remind him of his place by squeezing the shaft, and your free palm rubbing the tip harshly, making his words turning quick into mewls.

Your own hips moving clumsily, you're so focused on making him cry, you leave your cunt aching and dripping so much. Leon feels how wet you are, and that just makes him react even worse, cock twitching and yearning to be inside you.

"P-Please—" He cries, hips buck against your palm. “W-Want you...t' feel it inside you...” Leon begs, he's pulling the sheets so hard it springs out of the mattress.

“Yeah?” You smile, biting down the juncture between his shoulder and neck, making bruises on his body. “I don't know, though. You seem content with just my han—”

“No, please!” He sobs loudly, and you have a small realization that you've never heard of an old man crying until tonight. “Need y' pussy... wanna feel your wet cunt... wanna make you feel good...”

He looks at you through his tear stained eyelashes, and the sight of him crying makes you want to tease him until he passes out, but that's for another day.

You give in, aligning your dripping cunt to the tip of his cock. You have to hold Leon's thighs down since he just keeps pushing his cock up to try and push it through.

“Relax.” You grin, and that sounds like a mock for him. Your smile falters slightly as you sink down on his hard cock, feeling the curvy shape of it bumping just right there against your weak spot.

Leon moans like a girl, and you force yourself not to moan along because it's not everyday you can hear Leon making all these heavenly noises. You breath out heavily, rolling your hips to take him deeper, finally seated on his cock, his pubic hair scratching against your clit.

You hold onto his shoulders and begin bouncing on him, biting your lower lip to keep quiet, occasionally letting out little grunts here or there. Leon gasps, jaw hanging open as his hips rut into your cunt like the pathetic he is.

“Y-Yesss!” He's drooling all over, glossy eyes staring up at the ceiling while you bounce on him like never before. “Pussy soooo good! Mngh- hngh—!”

Your tits hover close to him, going up and down rapidly. He can't help but lean forward and take your nipple into his mouth, sucking it like a baby. You groan at that, Leon has never looked so cute ducking a woman's tits like this, lips wrap firmly around the perky bud, cheeks hollow and inside, his tongue is going wild over your nipple, flicking it and rolling it. He keeps his mouth occupied by going back and forth between your breasts, until you pull him back by his hair, earning a moan and a clear silver lining of drool connecting his lips and your tits.

“Can't hear your moans when your mouth is busy, Leon.” You say, resuming your rough pace.

His arms begin to struggle, he knows how to untie himself, but he can't really think when he's this deep inside you, inside your hot womb and in your grasps.

“Hngh! Can't—!” His hips snap up against you. “Can't hold it, pleasepleaseplease! Wanna cum...wanna fucking cum!” He begs shamelessly, the little pride left in his body has shattered into pieces as the wave of lust consumed his mind. All he can think about is releasing his hot load inside you.

“P-Please, pretty please—” He's straight up ugly crying now, snots running down his nose as his face tensed up, his wrinkles visible.

“Yeah, cum in me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum inside—” You pant out, eyes half lidded and looking at him with such a mesmerizing gaze, he can't help but kiss you — but, you instantly push his face off, tugging on his hair one last time to hear his delicious scream as his loads fill your empty womb up, and your pussy tightens around him, his fucked up face is enough to make you cum.

God, he's cumming so much, filling you to the brim with white streaks leaking down where you and him are connected.

You pant, untying him lazily as you lean on his body. His wrists burned from the impact, yet he raises his shaky hands up to hug you close, sobbing a bit more before eventually both of you fall asleep like that.

[sednas]

i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love

⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending

it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.

nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.

he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.

maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...

yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.

"I missed you so much my love..."

familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.

"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.

you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.

he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.

not that you're complaining about it.

your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.

"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."

his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.

"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.

he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.

"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.

he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.

"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.

he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.

"you're still not on birth control?"

and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.

"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"

you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.

"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.

your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.

"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.

you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.

"I'm here now, I won't leave."

he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

this time you both won't let go of each other.

jjk masterlist

[fishnapple]

How they act towards you vs towards other people

(lover/partner/future spouse)

The lighting was bad so I didn't include the pictures of crystals for each group.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

1. Labradorite

How they act towards you The energy: Black egg

They will be their most truthful self when they are with you. They will always speak the truth or try to. It could be unfiltered, they may even be more blunt with you than with other people. What they don't feel comfortable sharing with others, they will be comfortable sharing with you. You will be the one to witness the most authentic version of them.

They will try to be a dependable person that you can lean on, wanting to be your pillar of strength. They also want you to be the best version of yourself. But the way they do it can be a little heavy-handed. They have the tendency to say things that can get on your nerves, if you are someone who doesn't have the thickest skin, you would find their words sometimes hurting or too raw, too blunt, too sharp, they will touch your most vulnerable part, your foundation. In the process, you may be hurt and want to lash out at them but if you become more aware of yourself and try to look at things from a positive viewpoint then you will come out stronger than ever, no one will be able to shake your foundation. In a way, they help you destroy the untrue and unstable and then help you build up the true and enduring.

On a lighter note, they will act more silly with you, saying ridiculous things that they normally wouldn't say to other people, just to make you laugh. It will be odd, clumsy, but endearing, you will find your stomach constantly hurting from laughing.

They will probably give you many surprising gifts that show their care and thoughtfulness. It could even be a handmade gift. The one that you can keep for many years to come, the one that will be the symbol of their devotion to you that can always bring you comfort whenever you look at it.

At times, they could fall under a melancholy spell, unsure of themselves and their worth in the relationship. You will find them being a little jittery, hiding themselves away from you. They may need some alone time to realign themselves. Just give them the time and space they need and always be honest with them.

How they act towards other people The energy: Sea serpent

They are a lot less demanding of other people than with you. They will hide their thoughts and intentions a lot, prefer to keep them to themselves. They may have been betrayed in the past, so it made them wary and distrustful towards other people. They will have their guard up most of the time.

Unlike their tendency to doubt themselves when being with you, to other people, they will present a very confident and vibrant self. Their public image could be quite eccentric, the one who always stands out from the crowd. But they have a very empathetic aura that people find very comforting. People would easily open up to them, even when your person doesn't have much in common with that person.

They will act like a teacher to other people, always ready to give advice and guidance. They will be generous and helpful, dedicated, and dependable. They will try to be the safe space for other people, no idea is too unrealistic, no thought is too wishful, no belief is too strange, they will help others be more comfortable and open to more new ideas. A gentle teacher.

But your person will hide a lot of things from other people. They may sometimes appear as a people-pleaser, wanting to avoid conflict. If they are angry or not pleased with the other person, they won't show it directly, could even be a little passive aggressive.

2. Citrine

How they act towards you The energy: Dragonfly

They will talk a lot with you. Sharing every thought and random inspiration with you. They may have a fear of miscommunication, not many people understand them, and their way of communicating may not be very clear. But with you, I think you guys will have similar communicating style that allows them to be more comfortable in sharing their chaotic thoughts. They feel energised by talking with you. Not just talking but listening too, they want to be both the student and the teacher. Mental connection will be their focus. They don't want to have any misunderstanding between you guys.

They will act less restrained while having you by their side. When you go somewhere public, they will be more brave and show themselves more, unapologetically. They will be more sociable, more open to strangers and new acquaintances. You help expand their social circle. But that doesn't mean they will forget about you and go mingling with other people. They will still keep themselves close to you.

They definitely will act more loving and gentler with you than other people. Sometimes, it can be childish, wanting to be spoiled and babied by you.

At the same time, their intensity will be visible to you but not intimidating. It will show the focus on being happy and trust in each other. They are fiercely protective of the relationship with you and will try to stay clear-headed to maneuver any hardship that you may encounter.

For some reason, I get a sense that they will try too hard to present a perfect partner image and hide some parts that they deem not favourable, such as their more messy emotions, their fantasies, their true desires. In a sense, a part of them will stay detached from the relationship, they don't go all in, despite their unrestrained way of sharing their thoughts with you, some of their deeper thoughts will still stay hidden. This could be a problem later on because they can't keep the perfect image forever, and they don't want to disappoint you. You will have to be pretty intuitive in your approach, if you can sense that they are hiding something, instead of confronting them, you could gently point to that direction and share your thought and experience related to it, try to send the message that you won't judge them, that you can see their truer self and can still love them for it.

How they act towards other people The energy: Firefly

As I was saying in the previous section, your person can be very confusing in communicating with other people. Either they don't really say what they're thinking or their words are ambiguous and misleading. Subconsciously, they could have a desire to mislead and confuse others. They don't feel comfortable sharing their true self, it feels too vulnerable and disorientating.

They are intensely private yet appear as very open and a social butterfly. They excel at superficial interactions, arousing interest in the other person, but only for a fleeting moment, turn around and they will be gone. They could be very popular, especially on the internet, social media. They have this enigmatic and charming presence that others find irresistible yet unreachable. They can share their cool new ideas, some wacky pose or random stuffs about their life that intrigue other people, but even if you scroll through all their contents, you won't be able to tell a definite tale about who they are.

With other people, they will joke a lot and not acting serious, they can appear as superficial and childish, or childlike, a fun entertainer.

Whatever unpleasantness that they feel, they will shove it down their subconscious, not willing to face and acknowledge it. This can lead to the feeling of dissatisfaction and resentment that they don't even know exactly where they come from. Another thing is that they will act 'pure' in front of other people, hiding their more aggressive side. People may view them as cute, innocent, pure, and all kind of that perception and won't be able to associate aggression and sexuality with your person. People may treat them like an eternal child, and the thing is, your person doesn't object to that perception. In some way, it helps in protecting themselves.

3. Agate

How they act towards you The energy: Eagle

They will act all clingy with you, physically and emotionally, they want to be close to you all the time, you may even sometimes find it suffocating and want to push them away a little. They seem to be a pretty confident and straightforward person that they don't have any problem showing their more needier side to you. They are probably the kind of person that when they find a song they love, they will abuse the repeat button countless times and many years later, that song will still be their favourite.

They will want to constantly in contact with you, asking what you're doing, where you are, do you need or want anything, they could even drop their work and other schedules to be with you. If you show some detachment towards them, they will definitely notice and confront you about it or will just pout openly. I don't know how you will feel about all this, but they sure are not leaving any space between you guys. They have a tendency to involve themselves in their partner's life a little too much. You will need to remind them again and again so that they don't lose themselves in the relationship.

They will be openly displaying their affection towards you in public. They like the idea of people knowing you guys are together, it makes them proud and giddy. Nothing obnoxious, of course, they will be pretty restrained but still show enough.

They will want to take you on sudden trips, preparing surprises for you on no particular occasion. Knowing your favourite music, food, your idea of dream date, then plan the most romantic date for you.

Their romance mode will be full on.

How they act towards other people The energy: Eagle

This person is very consistent in their energy, whether with their lover or other people, they show the same strong and radiant energy of the Eagle.

With other people, though, they won't show their vulnerable and needy side. There's still that intensity and care towards the other person, but they will be more confrontational and direct in their approach. They will talk a lot, sometimes not letting the other person have a word in, could be quarrelsome, but only when they are provoked, they're not preachy or controlling. People can still feel a certain softness in them. It's not harsh, and their words have a certain genius to them that some could even find it sexy. Their energy feels very alpha and dominant.

They care a lot about how they come across to others, their public image. They will always try to be their most presentable self in front of people. No curse words, no uncivilised actions, fussy, charming (when they are not in quarrel mode), prim and proper.

They have some hobbies that they can share with their close friends. They like to have fun and play games, joking around, being unintentionally flirty.

Others could say that they are a home-body or not going out much (probably busy being with you). If not at home, then they will be busy travelling somewhere. Their whereabouts can be pretty mysterious.

They have a certain spiritual belief that they keep to themselves, even with you, they won't disclose it fully, and not disclosing it at all with other people. It may not be anything big or mind shattering. They just don't want to voice it out, it's the part of them that want to keep private.

4. Amazonite

How they act towards you The energy: Beaver

Love for this person is a serious commitment that they won't take lightly. Once they've committed to you, they will put in their effort to keep the relationship healthy and strong. They will view it as a project. They will put their heart at the centre of every action they take towards you.

They will act responsible towards you. Be a dependable and steady partner for you. If any problem or conflict would ever arise, they will roll up their sleeves and find the solution for it. Their love language is act of service. If anything, be it a small inconvenience such as you forgetting your umbrella on a rainy day, to a bigger problem such as distance between you guy's living places, they will try to do it for you, to erase the inconvenience or the problem. They will approach everything with practicality.

They could act a little dry and too serious towards you sometimes, trying to emulate a literal rock. Because in their mind, you are the love of their life, so they have to act serious and responsible, this can also make them hide some of their traits that they deem childish. If it's you, then it's okay for you to act childish sometimes. They will assume the more mature role. But if it's them, then they cannot allow themselves to act like that. They will put some standards on themselves. You won't be starved of affection, their love will be a constant, comfortable flame that can warm you and help you make many things.

But in term of intimacy, they won't be restrained towards you. They will try to know your every wish and desire, from your own words to your facial expressions and from something left unsaid, they will know it all. You will find it uncanny how much they understand you. And how much they can put their effort to make your wish and desire come true.

With you, they will always try to be brave, to leave their fears at the door. Even when they see some obstacles in your future together, they won't give up, they will try to conquer them. They will probably talk a lot about your future together, it will sound romantic and dreamy and it will surprise you.

How they act towards other people The energy: Camel

This person has a lot of love to give, even with other people, they always put the harmony and balance in relationship to the centre. They are charming, not in the superficial or loud way, or even mystical or jubilant way. Their charm is quiet and steady. People can't help but be attracted to them.

They will be a dependable person that many will look up to. They could be in a higher position in their career. If they are a boss then they will be the caring and well-liked one, but are not too close with other people, there will be an appropriate distance.

They are pretty independent and resourceful, others come to them for help but they usually don't come to others. They would rather solve the problem on their own. They could overburden themselves with other people's problems, not to mention their own problems.

Some people may try to control or wanting to be more involved in your person's life, but they won't dare to, they will hesitate, because they can see that your person is just too independent and know full well their worth to be manipulated or controlled by someone else.

They will be guarded towards sharing their goals or future plans with other people. They know that the moment they share it, it will be affected by other's opinions and objections and will create unnecessary obstacles.

It's like somehow they don't want to receive the same kind of treatment that they give to other people. They can be caring and considerate, ready to help, but when it comes to themselves, they actually want to be left alone and don't want other's involvement.

5. Aventurine

How they act towards you The energy: Elephant

This person has some insecurities or some misunderstood perception when it comes to you. They don't feel too confident and sure of themselves when they are in your presence. It's like you hold up a mirror to them, making them aware of their shortcomings and imperfections.

They're not used to this, so they might want to over compensate by acting in a more aggressive, assertive, and confident, trying to exert dominance, trying to control the situation. But it will mainly be in petty matters, though.

I think you just view this kind of behaviour as childish. They will act a little like a spoiled brat, wanting to get their way, but in an endearing way? You will probably chuckle and indulge them.

They will pout a lot or give you silent treatment often. It will be frustrating. When they do talk, it can become a clash of egos. Maybe your communication styles are just different.

They just want their ego to be soothed a bit. They want to be acknowledged by you, to feel needed and praised for their effort. When they do get that, they will be very loving and accommodating, like a cat with hackles raised then turned docile when being petted properly.

How they act towards other people The energy: Earthworm

This person could be young? They don't seem to be too confident when around other people either.

They can act defensive and will try to appear more mature, in control of their life. But others can pick up on their insecurities. They can be shy in public. But they will put efforts into becoming more sure of themselves, learning to gain more knowledge and try to understand themselves better. Maybe they're surrounded by more mature and experienced people, so they feel the need to prove themselves.

They could be the nice guy/ nice girl that people feel that they can ask for more, demand more from your person, they will think that your person is easy-going. Some controlling or manipulative people could be involved too much in their life.

They get projected a lot on, it could be really tiresome. Coupled with their lack of assertiveness could result in them not being taken seriously. It's a big lesson for them to learn in this life, to assert themselves and be clear, to be more in their masculine energy, but not in the toxic way.

People could compliment their hands or their body a lot. It can feel like harassment sometimes. Physical appearance could be their insecurity and makes them more guarded towards people in general.

It probably the reason why you will be gentle and act with compassion when they try to be controlling or aggressive. Because you understand their struggle, and I think deep down, they're really grateful for that.

6. Flourite

How they act towards you The energy: Deer

I will be honest and say that they will act like a parent to you. In a nurturing and caring, protective way.

They will seem motherly to you, regardless of their gender. They will fuss about your daily routine, whether you've eaten enough, do you get enough rest, etc.

They may view you as someone they need to take care of, to gently guide you in life. They could be older or are used to taking care of other people, so they assume this role for themselves, perhaps? In some parts deep down inside them, the thought of helping you, protecting you will satisfy their wish to be a 'saviour', they want to have someone that they can commit to and even sacrifice a part of themselves to that person. They may have some Neptune, Jupiter and Saturn aspects in their chart.

They will be highly in tune with you. What you feel, they can subconsciously feel it too. Someday, you may not feel well in the body and you will see that they've become moody or tired without knowing why. They will share all your joy and sadness, truly mean it when they say that they're happy for you or they feel sad for you.

They could become a little paranoid and overly protective when you show signs of distress of emotional distance. They will want to know why, step in and take care of the cause, could be silently, secretly. Like a guardian, always a few steps behind you.

You will feel that all of their focus is put on you, it could feel unnerving, it could feel like being in a tight embrace.

How they act towards other people The energy: Moth

They are pretty detached towards other people. There's this indifferent air about them. It's not that they don't care, but they don't want to be too involved with the other person, they prefer to keep it light and polite.

They will be generous, though. If someone asks for help, they will probably help them as best as they could, and after that, they won't need any reward or praise from that person. It can feel quite clinical or cold to the other person.

They would like to talk and banter with people, light conversations, nothing too serious, could be gossiping. They have a belief that everyone should have their own path, if somehow their paths are connected, great, but if not, then no problem, just live and let live.

This detachment but friendly way of them could actually make them popular with the crowd. As long as people don't get too attached to them. Only a few people get to have a closer look inside your person's psyche.

People will be curious about them, what do they do for fun? What are they like when angered? what's their favourite food? To even more intrusive curiosity, like what are they like in bed? How much money do they have?

They will keep themselves as a mystery to other people, they can get curious all they want but your person won't care.

[dorabellingham]

El classico

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when after a bad game, he seeks comfort in you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The night after El Clásico seemed to have been tinged with a weight too heavy to bear. The Santiago Bernabéu, which had previously been vibrating with the expectation of a victory, was now silent under the crushing defeat of 4-0. Jude could barely lift his face; the score was like a punch that had hit him straight in the heart, a mixture of humiliation and helplessness that he had not expected to feel so intensely.

The stadium corridors were quiet, the haggard faces of the players mingled with those of the few remaining staff. Jude walked with heavy steps, ignoring the greetings of his colleagues and the murmur of the journalists who tried to capture some reaction. He just wanted to get out of there, to escape the shadow of that defeat.

As soon as he reached the parking lot, he took out his cell phone and, without thinking much, called you. Your voice was the first thing he thought of; he didn't want to talk to anyone other than his girlfriend. Deep down, he knew that you were the only person who could understand without judging, without demanding anything.

—Hey, Jude!

You answered with that welcoming tone that made him breathe a little slower, even in the most tense situations.

Jude let out a heavy sigh before saying something, feeling tiredness mix with frustration.

—Babe... it was a disaster. A complete disaster.

His voice sounded tired, almost exhausted, and there was a vulnerability there that he rarely let show.

You, on the other end of the line, could feel every emotion through his tone, as if you were right there by his side.

—I saw it, babe. —You answered softly, trying not to let him feel like he was being judged. —Do you want to come over to my house? We can talk, or just... be quiet, if you prefer.

He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it.

—I need you now, Y/n... I don’t want to talk to anyone. Just you.

In less than half an hour, Bellingham arrived home. As soon as you opened the door, he walked in slowly, his shoulders still slumped, his eyes downcast, and his face marked by tension. You approached and wrapped him in a hug, a gesture that he returned with a grip so firm that it almost seemed desperate.

—I can’t believe what happened. —He murmured, hiding his face in your shoulder. —So many people were counting on me, you know? It’s not just a game, darling... it’s not just a defeat. It’s... it’s like I failed everyone, the club, the fans. They trusted me.

You stroked his back, feeling how shaken he was. Jude was always strong, a leader on and off the field, but moments like these showed his more human side.

—Honey, you’re an incredible player. One defeat doesn’t change that. Everyone who understands football knows that the sport is like that, sometimes, even the best player has bad days. But you’re an essential part of the team, and they know it.

He shook his head, still not convinced.

—I know it sounds easy to say this, but... I don’t feel that way. Today was humiliating. The pressure from the fans, the disapproving looks... it’s too much.

You held his face between your hands, looking him in the eyes tenderly.

—Jude, you’ve overcome so much. Remember when you were just a little boy who dreamed of playing professional soccer? Look how far you’ve come. And you know how capable you are. This game was just a stumbling block, but you’re much stronger than that.

For a moment, he remained silent, absorbing your words. Then he closed his eyes and nodded slowly. You were his anchor, and just having you there made him feel a lightness he couldn’t find in anyone else.

You smiled at him, pulling him to the couch.

—Sit down. I’ll get us some tea, and you can tell me what else is on your mind, if you want.

As you went to the kitchen, Jude threw himself on the couch, letting his body sink into the cushions. Anger still burned inside him, but the warmth of the house and your affection helped ease the weight.

You came back with a steaming mug of chamomile tea in your hands and sat down next to him, offering the mug. He held your hand before taking the tea, as if he needed that contact to steady himself. After a sip, he sighed deeply and began to talk, telling you every detail that bothered him –the plays that didn't work out, the pressure from the fans, the feeling of helplessness.

—I know it's weird to say this... —He confessed. —But even after everything, I feel like I owe them something. I don't know how I'm going to go back there and face all of this again.

You squeezed his hand and shook your head.

—It's not weird, Jude. It shows how much you care, how much you respect what you do. That feeling is what makes you a special player.

He smiled sideways, a slight smile, still without much conviction, but a little more hopeful.

—I’m lucky to have you, Y/n. Seriously. You have no idea how much this means.

You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, feeling grateful for being there for him.

—And I’m lucky to have you. Now, you’re going to rest, recharge your batteries, and tomorrow is a new day. You’re going back to the field, babe. Stronger than ever.

Jude looked at you, with deep gratitude in his eyes. He knew there would still be challenges, but with you by his side, he was sure he would be able to face anything.

[luvyeni]

( SPOOKTOBER ) my vampire boyfriends ! 🎞️ 一 钟辰乐 & 박지성 ՞

𝓟 airings. vampire!chenji x fem!reader wc. 1.5k

🕸️◞ WARNINGS. consented somnophilia, biting, unprotected sex, fingering

「 ♱ authors note 」 my second chenji threesome , hope you guys like it , day 2 of spooktober ...

you; chenle and jisung had a special relationship, them being vampires and you being a human, and also being in a poly relationship — not only that; the three of you had a special sexual relationship, meaning any of you could have each other at any time you wanted.

this often led to jisung and chenle going at in chenles office during work hours; not caring if anyone heard them outside the room— who was gonna say something? not only was he the boss, he was a very powerful vampire, no one dared to even come inside without knocking. sometimes chenle would call you up, telling you to wear his favorite with nothing over it but a jacket; calling jisung into the office simply just to watch you guys fuck like bunnies before heading to a meeting.

or both of them forcing you under the table during a meeting to your knees stuffing their cocks into your mouth while the people in the room pretend you aren't there, lord knows what the people would do if they even acknowledged you were there.

most of the time though; you stayed home in the condo chenle purchased for you three; shopping and lavishly spending the money they made, waiting for them to return; sometimes you stayed up and waited for them— other times you often fell asleep waiting for them , but that didn't mean you didn't give them permission to use you even in your most vulnerable moment.

“she's sleeping.” jisung whined; he was so ready to ravish you, both of them were ready to use you, their stomachs churning with hunger and the need for you; you didn't help it either, sending them videos of you using various of toys, sending them videos while they were at work , leaving them hard , they couldn't even get each other off, they didn't need each other , they needed you. “i can smell her from here.”

your scent wafting through out the apartment like always , . “maybe we can wake her up.” jisung said, chenle scoffed. “what did i tell you jisung.” the older boy , who was always more dominant than the both of you said. “she said we can take what we want when we want.” he smirked , jisung scratched the back of his neck. “but she's sleeping.”

chenle even though he was shorter than the tall boy, cornered him. “when has that ever mattered? remember when she woke you up with her mouth around your cock.” he kissed the boy's neck. “you liked that didn't you?” jisung sighed, knowing where he was going with this. “i-i mean yeah b-but.” he groaned, feeling the boys hands feeling down his abs. “but what?” chenle whispered, jisung felt the boys fangs grazing his neck. “you want her right?” his hands traveling down to the waistband. “ye-yeah.”

“so take her.” was the last thing he said before he bit down on the boy's neck. “fuck.” he moaned , that's another thing about the supernatural creatures, the toxins from their bites being like a aphrodisiac— which often came as a plus for your sex life. jisung could feel the heat bubbling in his stomach , turning around the moment chenle let his neck go; grabbing the back of the boys neck , feverishly repeating what he did to him , both of them going at it with each other , almost forgetting you until they heard your moans coming from your shared room. “you hear her?” chenle groaned as the boy attacked his neck , blood drinking down. “i know you smell her, let's go give her what she so desperately wants.”

they finally made it to the room, your scent much stronger, pushing the door open where you laid sleeping. “she was moaning in her sleep.” chenle took his shirt off, joining you into the bed , his hands immediately finding your naked thigh , lifting up your oversized shirt , revealing your bare cunt. “no fucking panties , i don't even think she needs to be bit this time , she's hornier than both of us combine.” jisung took his clothes off , joining the both of you.

“let's see how long it takes for her to get up.” jisung started kissing your neck, chenle working his way into your panties , you moaned. “ fuck , even in her sleep sleep she's wet as fuck for us.” his fingers toying with your clit , your body reacting , whimpers pouring out of your mouth. “ch-chenle.”

your eyes fluttered open , meet the glowy eyes of your boyfriend. “fu-fuck.” you moaned as you felt him adding another finger. “finally you're awake , you were moaning like a slut in your sleep.” he curled his fingers inside you. “ji-ji— i’m here baby , i’m here.” jisung kissed your neck. “he wanted to let you sleep, but i knew you'd be upset if we left you out , guess fucking yourself on those useless fucking toys weren't enough , you needed our cocks to fill you up?”

removed his fingers standing up to remove his fingers. “hey baby.” jisung whispered in your ears , his bulge grinding against your ass , groaning. “ji-jisung , i want it.” you moaned. “what do you want?” he kissed your neck. “my cock? my fingers?” his hands ghosting your clit. “no-no yet , i want it first.” he smirked realizing what you meant. “you want me to bite you baby?” chenle getting back on the bed. “y-yes please.”

jisung turned to other boy , who nodded. “give her what she wants.” you moaned , feeling jisungs teeth piercing your skin. “fu-fuck!” you yelped , he released the toxins into your body , the aphrodisiac flowing through all of your bodies , it was fair game from here , all three of you desperate to touch each other. “please fuck me.” you moaned. “fu-fuck , you're so wet.” jisung rubbed his cock along your folds.

chenle stroked his cock , watching jisung hold your leg up , his cock prodding your hole. “fuck , put it inside.” he cursed , jisung obey the boy , pushing his cock inside you. “fuck sung!” you mewled as he began to rock his hips , his long cock kissing your cervix. “sh-shit your pussy is so tight , squeezing my cock.” he hissed. “ne-need more.”

“yeah?” chenle said , letting his cock go. “you think you can both of us?” you nodded eagerly. “i-i can , i can take it.” you moaned , your body needing both of them , it definitely was the bite talking , and you'd regret it in the morning but you didn't care. “fine , you want us to stretch you out , jisung pull out.” jisung whined. “don't be a fucking baby , you'll get your dick wet.” the boy slipped out of you.

“lay on your back sung.” the boy ordered; ordering you to get in his lap. “no , face me.” chenle slotted himself in between your legs. “fuck chen , i need to fuck her.” jisungs body was burning , the feeling becoming too overwhelming. “go ahead.” jisung , lifted you up , sinking you down on his cock. “fuck!” he hissed as your cunt swallowed him. “don't move.” chenle ordered, you both whined in desperation.

“both of you are a bunch of fucking sluts.” he slid right inside you , it burned deliciously as they both moved inside you , “fuck this feels so good.” jisung bucked into you , his cock was longer , and hit all of your deepest spots— whereas chenle was much thicker and stretched you out , neither one of them leaving you satisfied. “fu-fuck.”

you felt another piercing pain into your neck as jisung bit you once again. “jisung!” you moaned out his name as he licked the wound , chenle on top , pounding into you , never unfilled , both of them thrusted in and out of you. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” you moaned. “sh-shit me too.” jisung legs twitched , his orgasm approaching fast and chenles' cock rubbing up against his mix with the tightness of your cunt wasn't doing him any favors.. “fuck , cum now , both of you.”

with his command both of you cumming with loud moans , jisungs cum seeping out of you but chenle just fucked in back inside. “fuck , gonna cum.” his hand coming up to your throat , squeezing tightly , has he pushed deeply inside you , cumming. “fu-fuck!”

both of you pulling out of your , cum spilling from your puffy cunt. “so messy.” he wiped the blood from your neck , bringing it to his lips , moaning at your sweet taste. “so sweet , like candy.”

“if you both were so horny you should've called me.” you said once you were cleaned up , your wounds all patched up , theirs healed already. “not like you haven't before.” threading your fingers through jisungs hair. “jisung overheard someone talking about how pretty you sound and almost tore his throat out , i can't have people quitting , they're already terrified enough , no need to traumatize them.”

“that's his fault next time i may just fucking do it.” jisung growled. “see what i deal with all day!” you shook your head. “don't pretend you aren't the same , we both remember what you almost did to that human who was flirting with jisung.” he frowned.

“in my defense he asked jisung to turn him and i said i’d happily to bite him , but i might just get a little hungry and drain him of all his blood.”

©LUVYENI

[yanderestarangel]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

۫ ⭒ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊 | 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊1 ִ ۫ ⭒

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Johnny Cage, Bi Han, Reiko, Shang Tsung, Shao Khan, Kuai Liang, Kenshi, Rain, Kung Lao, Quan Chi.

Riding your dominant boyfriend's cock to the breaking point, your pussy on his fat, throbbing cock, you were so tired, but so satisfied. He never got tired of seeing you like a little slut on top of him, desperate for more and more, he controlled himself so much so as not to simply fuck you with all his might and leave you unable to walk the next day. You would see his muscular abs totally sweaty and the tremors of his muscles every time your pussy met his cock over and over again, whispering sweet things and promises of a future together.

"-That's so good my sweet, just keep going, you're so beautiful and yes- hmph- fuck baby, you're so tight I-" -He tries to speak, while crying with pleasure, it was the first time that your big man, so strong and fearless for everyone, he cried desperately because of you, because of the wonderful work that your little body did on him, he could be bigger and stronger than you, but the way your pussy rode and sucked his dick, the way the way your soft breasts bounced in his face, the way your face contorted with pleasure making his cock your private playground, it was too much for him to handle, he was so used to always being on top of you, eating your beautiful pussy and denying your orgasms, but this time it was different, he was vulnerable, crying, like a little whore, with his cock buried in your soft and velvety walls, he just wanted to cum, to release the load pent up for hours, all inside you.

"-P-Please my love... I just want to cum inside your uterus... I just want to cum, I can't take it anymore, please I beg you-" -He doesn't even have time to finish the sentence, while you ride on his dick roughly, he finally reaches the peak, moaning hoarsely and whimpering even more, saliva dripping down his mouth, lips half open and his thick, calloused hands find the soft flesh of your hips, pushing his dick even further towards you, the pulsating head of his dick kissed your insides with each last thrust, a last requirement for him to tremble and ride the waves of orgasmic pleasure that you provided him, his spent cock still inside you.

"-Thank you... I needed that my sweetheart..." -He gave you a kiss on the cheek, while you dried his tears with your thumbs, making him smile slightly, your rude boyfriend, wasn't that tough after all.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Liu Kang, Syzoth, Tomas Vrbada, Raiden.

Being fucked roughly by your submissive boyfriend, while he was already tired of being so affectionate and servile to you, breaking you and making you cry beneath him because you were overstimulated, your clitoris was sore and your pussy was full of cum, but he wasn't going to stop until you are completely satisfied. He buries his dick in your pussy with all his might, he really wants to see you tremble, suffer for his dick. He starts to move, his thrusts aggressive and relentless, bringing you closer to the edge. His hands hold your hips tightly, leaving marks as he pounds into you, he wasn't going to let you cum yet, he was going to appreciate every wet sound and harsh, suffering moan that left your lips, a delicious revenge for all the times you denied him an orgasm.

"-Look at me, you slut." -He ordered, squeezing your face tightly, slapping your cheek hard while smiling, hearing you moan. "-Fuuck... Look at you, completely wet, just begging for my cock, you're mine, that damn perfect pussy is mine, hear my whore?" -He hit his hips hard against your pussy again, roughly massaging your clitoris, there was no affection, just a lustful and degrading punishment while his balls hit the flesh of your ass.

"-You're a mess, this is where you belong, my little toy. Under my control, at my mercy." -The combination of his words and the intensity of the moment drove you further into submission. Your wet pussy continued to drip, proof of your excitement and need for more. Everything about this encounter, the pain, the pleasure and the degradation, fueled your desire for him, intensifying your pleasure with each passing moment, he saw that you were close to cumming, taking his dick out of your pussy and slapping you strong on the sensitive flesh, making your clitoris burn.

"-You're not going to cum until I tell you to, now be a good boy/girl get on all fours on the bed and open that slutty pussy wide."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

DRUNK CALL

a/n: requests are open! send me your thoughts!

jude bellingham x exgf!reader

warnings: nothing but pure, heart-wrenching angst...

summary: After a night of drunken vulnerability, you make the impulsive decision to call Jude, your ex who still owns your heart. He rushes to your side, rekindling feelings that both comfort and haunt you. As you cling to the warmth of his presence, you both utter a bittersweet promise: “I’ll call you tomorrow,” knowing deep down that it’s a lie.

The bass of the club music pulsed through you, filling every corner of your being and drowning out any remnants of clarity you might’ve brought with you tonight. It was loud enough to help you escape, if only temporarily, from the heavy thoughts that had crowded your mind. A glass in hand, you were just trying to find a way to forget. But with each sip, each laugh from your friends, and each new beat, your heart sank a little deeper.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about him. You’d sworn to yourself you’d moved on, accepted that you two were over. You’d had chosen your careers over each other, the distance and the demands of your own dreams pulling you both apart like the final grains of sand slipping through an hourglass. Jude was off in Madrid, lighting up the world with every match he played, while you were trying to make a name for yourself too.

And you were proud of him, you genuinely were. But God, did it hurt.

The friends you were with were all good people, a great group, but they weren’t him. No one could ever really make you feel the way Jude had. The club’s bright lights swirled around you, mixing with the alcohol, as your mind drifted in and out, struggling to keep your emotions buried beneath a layer of forced laughter and alcohol. Too much alcohol. But as the night wore on, you felt the drinks hitting harder than expected, unraveling the self-control you’d stitched together over the last few months.

Eventually, you felt yourself start to drift outside, leaving the laughter, lights, and thumping bass behind. Out in the cool night air, the world felt quieter, and yet your thoughts were suddenly much too loud. You stumbled to the curb, your head swimming, and let yourself sink down to sit with your knees pulled to your chest. Memories started trickling in, as persistent as the tears that now blurred her vision.

You hadn’t even allowed yourself to think of him for so long, but tonight, Jude’s face and voice played like a video in your mind. The way he’d always looked at you, his eyes warm and full of a love that felt impossible, like they could make the whole world fall away. The way he’d held your hand, grounding you, as if he knew you could be lost in a moment's notice and he was determined never to let that happen. You remembered your last night together, when you’d held each other, knowing it might be the end, even though neither had the strength to say it out loud.

The decision to end things had been painfully rational. Jude had opportunities, fame, and pressures you could barely fathom. You were building your own career, trying to find your way in the world, to live up to your potential, and you both knew that something would have to give. You’d promised each other you’d be okay, that you’d move on. But looking at the pavement now, tears slipping down your cheeks as the weight of everything settled back in, you realized you hadn’t moved on at all. Not even close.

The sound of laughter spilled out from the club as a group of people walked past you, barely noticing your tear-streaked state sitting on the curb. You wiped your eyes and looked down, feeling a flood of embarrassment mix with your sadness. You should have been stronger. You should have been able to just enjoy a night out, let him go, and move forward like he seemed to be doing. But every fiber of your being felt like it was caught, unwilling to sever the tether that still bound you to him, even if only in memory.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and with a sigh, you fished it out, expecting a text from one of your friends wondering where you´d gone. But it was nothing but a notification from your social feed—photos, stories, images of Jude from his latest game. You swallowed, feeling your throat close up. You could barely bring yourself to watch his games anymore. It was a twisted kind of loyalty to protect your heart from knowing too much about the life he was living without you.

As you scrolled through the images, your vision blurred once more. You were hurting yourself on purpose. You saw Jude, smiling wide with his teammates, happiness etched into every line of his face. He looked perfect, just as you remembered, and yet, he was so far away, so unreachable. You hadn’t even realized you were crying again, the sound of your quiet sobs echoing in the cool night air as you scrolled through his instagram stories, the ache in your chest making it almost unbearable.

Maybe he’d already moved on, you thought. Maybe he was laughing with someone else right now, someone who fit better into his world, who didn’t have to battle their own dreams just to stay by his side. You´d heard rumours... And that was the hardest part—knowing that you´d let him go so he could be free to find someone who could love him without needing to love themselves too, someone who could be selfless in a way you never could be.

But that hadn’t made it easier. And that´s why, minutes later, the alcohol and grief began to take effect on you.

The city lights blurred as you scrolled through your contacts, Jude’s name flashing like a beacon. The rational part of you knew you shouldn’t, knew it was a terrible idea. But your heart was louder, and the alcohol had drowned any sense of restraint. Before you could think twice, you pressed the call button, holding your breath as the phone rang. The dull ache in your chest sharpened with every ring, a twisted anticipation you couldn’t shake. Maybe he wouldn´t answer, and if he did, you had no idea what you would say; you just needed to hear his voice.

On the other side of the line, Jude was deep in sleep, the kind of sleep he barely had time for these days between training, travel, and games. When his phone buzzed, he stirred and groaned, eyes squinting at the screen, heart jumping as he saw your name glowing in the dark. His mind snapped to attention, concern washing over him. You never called this late; in fact, it had been months since you’d called at all. And as much as he’d tried to distance himself, a part of him had always wondered if he’d be the first person to call first, or if on the contrary, it´ll be you. He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and answered, his voice thick with drowsiness.

“Hello? Hey… everything okay?” he answered, sounding groggy and confused. You could picture him, sitting up in bed, his messy curls and soft, sleepy eyes. Just the thought of him like that made your heart ache even more, and you squeezed you eyes shut, as if that would somehow make this feel less real. You could not believe this was real.

You stilled for a second, feeling a wave of nervousness—and that slight warmth his voice always brought you, even through the crackling distance of a call. “Hey, Jude!” You joked singing the famous song, trying to sound casual, even cheerful, but the wavering in your tone was unmistakable. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Jude’s forehead creased in confusion, recognizing the slight slur in your words. He knew you perfectly. Jude tried to piece together why you were calling, concern nagging at him. “Uh… it’s two in the morning, Y/N... So, yeah, you did wake me up,” he replied, a smile sneaking into his voice. “But it’s okay… I don’t mind.”

You gave a small, unsteady laugh, brushing a tear from your cheek as you forced yourself to sound light. “Oh, whoops. Didn’t mean to. Just… thought I’d say hi, I guess.” The alcohol was betraying you.

“Hi,” he echoed softly, his own smile widening as he leaned back, unable to resist the ease that always seemed to accompany any conversation with you, no matter how much time had passed. For a brief moment, it felt like nothing had changed, as if you were right back in those late-night phone calls from when you were together. “You been out tonight or something?” he asked, catching onto the familiar background noise of a club, though the line was faint.

“Maybe,” you replied coyly, your laugh a little unsteady. “Just with some friends.”

He paused, picking up on the subtle sadness in your tone, the quietness that felt so out of place in the midst of club music. A part of him could sense something was off, but he couldn’t tell if it was just the early-morning haze clouding his mind. “You sound… different. Are you okay?” His voice was gentle, cautious, hoping to draw out the truth if you’d let him in, even just a little.

You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat, despite him not being able to see it, a smile lingering in your voice as you answered. “Of course! I’m just… thinking about you, I guess. Miss hearing your voice.” The words slipped out, your guard lowered by the alcohol, your voice quieting with every word.

He felt a pang in his chest, caught off guard by your openness, and caught your state. However, he stayed silent for a moment, letting your words sink in. “I miss hearing yours too,” he admitted softly. And just like that, he was thrown back into the memories of your laughter, the comfort of your presence, the feeling he’d tried so hard to leave behind at half past two in the morning.

There was a pause, and you could feel your heart rate pick up, as if this one call could somehow shatter everything you´d been holding onto for so long. And maybe it already was. “You know… you’re doing amazing,” you said, your voice cracking, the weight of your feelings too heavy to hide. “I see the photos, the games… you’re really out there living the dream. I’m proud of you, Jude.”

His heart clenched at your words, the bittersweetness in your tone not lost on him. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice thick. “I’m… I’m really proud of you too, you know that?” He’d seen your growth, your own career achievements—even from a distance, he’d always known you´d do incredible things. But knowing it hadn’t lessened the ache of not having you by his side.

He heard a small sniffle, and a pang of worry shot through him. He hadn’t meant to make you emotional; he’d wanted this to stay light, a small moment they could share without the weight of their history pressing down. But it was too late. “Love… what’s wrong?” he asked, the nickname slipping out so naturally he barely noticed it. But you did.

The familiarity in his voice, that old endearment you hadn’t heard in so long, shattered your remaining composure. You bit your lip, tears streaming down your face as you fought to keep steady. “It’s nothing,” you tried to whisper, but your voice cracked, betraying the ache beneath.

Jude’s concern deepened, his voice steady yet gentle. “You´re… you’re out right now?” His tone was soft, but his words were filled with an understanding that came from knowing you too well. He could tell you weren’t alright, even if you were trying to hold it together. “Are you alone?”

“No, no,” you lied, looking around at the empty street, realizing your friends were still somewhere inside, probably oblivious to the fact you’d left. “I’m just… outside. Needed some air.”

His chest tightened and he closed his eyes. “Y/n...” He kept his voice low, steady, as if the calm in his tone could, somehow, anchor him, could, somehow, calm the storm raging inside him.

The line went quiet for a moment, and you could almost feel him piecing it together. “Are you… drunk?”

You swallowed, the weight of your embarrassment settling in. “Maybe. Just a little,” you mumbled. “But I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his voice took on a more determined tone. “Where are you?”

“Jude, no,” you protested quickly, realizing he’d gotten serious. “You don’t have to come. I’m fine. Really.”

“Just tell me where you are,” he insisted, a firmness to his voice that you knew better than to argue with.

“No, Jude, really. I’ll be fine. I’ll get a cab or… or call a friend.”

“Please, just tell me,” he repeated, softer this time, but there was a plea woven into his words. You hesitated, the familiar comfort of his concern wrapping around you like a blanket, erasing any willpower you had left. You rattled off the name of the club, resigning yourself to the fact that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Stay there,” he said, his voice calming you even as your heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. “I’ll be there soon.”

The line clicked off, and you just sat there, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. You hadn’t seen Jude in months, and the reality of him coming to pick you up, despite everything that had kept you two apart, was both terrifying and comforting. You wanted to see him, to look into those eyes you´d tried so hard to forget. But you also knew how much harder it would be to walk away again.

Fifteen minutes later, headlights broke through the quiet of the street, pulling up in front of you, and there he was, stepping out of his car, looking even better than you remembered. You cursed under your breath as you saw him approaching. Dressed in a simple hoodie and joggers, his hair tousled from sleep, he scanned the sidewalk, his gaze softening when he found you.

Without a word, he walked over, crouching down beside you. His gaze swept over your face, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached out, gently wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice so tender it made your heart ache all over again. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

You nodded, unable to find the words, and let him help you up. As you walked to his car, you stumbled slightly, and his arm came around you, steadying you with a gentle, familiar touch. The feel of him close to you, felt both comforting and agonizing. He opened the passenger door and helped you in, carefully tucking your hair behind your ear before closing the door.

Once he was behind the wheel, Jude glanced over at you, a soft, almost unreadable look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you call me earlier?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked away, feeling your chest tighten. “Didn’t want to be a burden,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

He shook his head, his eyes filled with a tenderness you hadn’t seen in so long. “You could never bother me,” he said quietly. “Not you.”

You drove in silence for a while, the city lights flashing by as the weight of everything lingered between you. You leaned your head against the window, the alcohol starting to wear off, replaced by the hollow ache of your feelings, raw and exposed. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you, and let out a shaky sigh.

“Jude…” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I don’t know how to move on from you.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw, and you felt him reach out, his hand finding yours. His fingers laced with yours, strong and warm, grounding you just like he always had. You looked over at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you saw all the love he’d held for you, the love he’d tried to hide.

“I haven´t either,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering. “I miss you, a lot, but I don´t know if we can be together.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks again, and he gently wiped them away again, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He didn’t pull his hand away, letting you hold onto him as if he knew it was the only thing keeping you steady.

When you arrived at your apartment, he helped you inside, never letting go of your hand. He guided you to the couch, gently settling you down, his eyes never leaving your face. You felt safe with him there, wrapped in his warmth and his steady, unwavering presence.

He took a seat beside you, his hand still in yours, and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment. You closed your eyes, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours, the quiet affirmation that you were not alone, that he was still there for you, even if you two were separated.

The silence settled around you both, like a delicate thread holding back a flood neither of you dared to unleash. Jude sat by your side, so close yet feeling further away than ever.

Finally, he cleared his throat, his voice soft but heavy, laced with a sadness that cut right through you. “I’ll… I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” he said, his voice almost a whisper, as if saying it louder would make it less believable.

You managed a small nod, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check, the words echoing in your mind like a promise neither of you believed. Both of you knew that call would never come. It would be too much, too painful, a tether to something that had already slipped too far away. But somehow, you clung to the lie, as if saying it aloud could somehow soften the inevitable.

“Okay,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, a fragile agreement to keep up this charade, to pretend there was a next chapter, even if the last page had already been turned.

He gave you a sad, almost wistful smile, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand one final time. Then, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as though he could somehow imprint a piece of himself in that touch. You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth, the closeness, every ounce of affection he poured into that kiss, knowing it might be the last.

When he pulled back, his gaze held yours, full of a quiet, aching love. “Goodnight,” he murmured softly, his voice catching.

You managed a weak smile, feeling the tear slip down your cheek, but you nodded. “Goodnight, Jude.”

And just like that, he let go of your hand. He made sure you were steady, his eyes tracing over you, making sure you were okay, that you’d be safe when he was gone. Then he stood, lingering at the doorway for one last moment, his expression unreadable but unmistakably full of everything he wanted to say and couldn’t.

Without another word, he turned and slipped out the door, and you felt the emptiness settle in as soon as he was gone. The quiet of the apartment pressed in around you, swallowing up the warmth he’d left behind, until it was just you, alone, holding onto a memory that hurt too much to let go.

The next day came and went. He didn´t call.

[cvnt4him]

CAN YOU WRITE A LOVESICK IZUKU??

i’m talking practical hearts in his eyes and like a complete puppy dog🙏, this gorgeous and strong boy on his knees and at your side at every beck and call, would do anything for attention and praise. god i love him

- 😼♡

I LOVE HIM TOOO BROOO YES YES YES HE WOULD SO BE LIKE A PUPPY DOG I LOVE HIM AJDBHDHEB TY FOR THIS.

writers block be gone 😞🙏🏽

Izuku midoriya. Your puppy like, babyfaced, adorable, loving, compassionate boyfriend who'd do anything for you. That's the kind of man you wanted, and once you finally got him you were in shock. There was no way this perfect Demi god of a man was yours?!

You constantly tell him how surprised you are at how you bagged him, but truth be told he's even more surprised that he managed to bag you!!

He always dreamed of holding you and kissing your face, he spent so much time fantasizing about you his grades started slipping. He began drawing you and even thinking about you before bed. He wouldn't admit it to you now that you two are dating but he has sexy drawings of you, he also used to think about you and stalk your social media while stroking his cock.

It was embarrassing to think about so he viewed to never being it up to you. EVER.

Izuku wasn't the jealous type, he had no reason to be. He knew you were loyal and he was more than loyal. He stayed by your side all the time and assured you knew where he was when he wasn't. He hated being away from you, leaving your side made him feel lonely, cold.

Cuddling you was his favorite thing in the world!!!! Holding you close and wrapping his large muscles around your figure, he was so much stronger than you and he knew that. He loved when you called him your "big strong man" it made him so hard and flustered. He knew that if he wanted he could snap your neck like a twig, he loved that. The fact that you still got an attitude with him on some occasions and even ignored him when he accidentally angered you despite knowing what he's capable of made his cock twitch.

He loved how you couldn't give a flying fuck that he could destroy the whole world within the blink of an eye. Yet that wouldn't stop you from rolling your eyes at him and making him sit at the eye of your bed while you plunged your fingers inside of you.

Izuku loves going shopping with you, you'll never have to worry about getting lost or losing hm because he won't dare to leave your side. He wouldn't even think of it. He likes watching you giggle and get all excited about spending money and buying new jewelry or clothes. The way you jumped up and down and how your boobs bounced with every jump. How you let him watch you change in the changing room.

See, it wasn't even the fact that you let him watch, the fact that he seen your boobs spill from your bra. It was the fact that you trusted him enough to watch you in such a vulnerable state, he could've taken a picture and sent it to all his friends or made jokes about your body but he didn't and that's why you trusted him. Your trust in him made him so excited, if he were a dog his tail would be wagging like there's no tomorrow.

You and izuku had gotten in trouble for sleeping in one another dorm. It wasn't allowed, but izuku just couldn't stand being away from you!! His heart aches just thinking about how cold his side of your bed must've been next to you! How you must crave his warmth next to you. How he yearned for you to snuggle your face into his neck, the hot breath that you fanned his freckles neck making him hold back a moan.

He snuck out of his dorm quietly and crept his way to yours, sneaking inside of it without you even noticing. You seemed to be asleep, no matter, he knew you wanted him there whether you could say it or not! Nothing would stop him from getting to you!!! Izuku grabbed your body and yanked you into his larger figure, broad shoulders curling themselves around you. Your eyes shoot open as your slowly turn your head back to see izuku with his eyes closed and a dumb smile on his beautiful chubby face. For fucks sake.

Izuku loved when you needed him, when you'd call him for help because you can't get something or can't find something or just want him to buy you some food, hell do it no questions asked. He apologizes to you for you feeling like you even had to ask!!

Izuku was nothing more than like a dog, it was like he was part dog or something, like some sort of hybrid. He shook his head sometimes, his shaggy curly hair moving all around his face. The way he'd turn his head when he was confused, and that dumb smile he'd give you when he was happy. Eyebrows furrowing and his eyes blown wide, hearts forming shape in his pupil.

His eyes were glossy as he was in his knees, watching you touch yourself in front of his face, he waited for you to say he could taste you, please you. He was a good boy! And he'd continue to be your good boy until the end of time!!

His mouth opens as he inhales at the same time as you, his breaths matching yours while you tease your throbbing cunt. He moans and bites his lip his eyes staring directly at your wet squelching hole. He wanted to lick you clean, he wanted to devour you whole.

"please please please... Oh..!"

He inhales at the end of his sentence, a moan leaving his mouth at the same time as you. You moan and throw your head back, the way he looked at you like you were the last meal on earth was so sexy.

You stop your movements, simply to see how he would react and to your surprise he whimpers and whines and shoots his wide glossy eyes up to yours, a pouty frown forming on his pink lips. He turned his head to the side and let another desperate whine out for you. God this was quite the sight, you knew he liked to please you but there was no way he actually liked watching you get yourself off? Did it make him horny as well?

Yes it did but that wasn't why he wanted you to continue. He wanted you to cum hecsuse he wnyd you to feel good. He didn't care about his pleasure or if he even got to cum at all tonight, he wanted to make sure you came at least 5 times before the end of the night, whether it be his doing or your own. He wouldn't put up a fight. He liked watching.

You giggle before closing your legs and crossing them, another whine leaving his lips this time much louder and bitchy than before. You smile and motion for him to come closer. Without hesitation he crawls towards you slowly, you lay your crossed thigh and he lays his chin on it. He turns his head and drives his cheek up against the fat of your thigh, whimpering under this breath.

You raked your fingers through his messy curls, fingers slightly getting caught in the naps and kinks in his hair. He lets a moan escape his lips as he bites his lower one, a smile forming on his mouth as he looks up at you with lust filled eyes.

"want a taste, zu?"

He couldn't speak, he was sure to embarrass himself if he even tried due to his dry throat from the lack of speaking. He nodded aggressively with low whines leaving his throat. He nudges your legs open with his head before burying his face in between your thighs, the warmth that was held in between fanning all over his face.

He takes a big sniff of the aroma that leaves your cunt, he was such a disgusting perv. Getting off to smell alone was the dirtiest thing he could possibly do. He groaned before licking a long slow strike up your cunny. You throw your head back before lifting one of your legs over his shoulder which he happily held onto, he knew he'd need to, things always get pretty intense when he eats you out. Mostly on his party bc he js loves the taste of you, he always gets so pussy drunk.

He shakes his head whilst being in between your legs, slurping and licking up everything that you leak out. Izuku takes it as high praise when you moan for him and tell him what you want, how could he even attempt to be cruel and deny you of what you want?

You moan as your hand find themselves in his hair pushing his head deeper into your pussy, he obviously obliges and tries his hardest to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, his nose rubbing and brushing against your sensitive clit. When he shakes his head his nose rubs your clit in the best way that had your pussy squeezing around his pink muscle delving in and out of you at a fast pace, he then decided to add two of his thick fingers and plunged them in and out of you in repeated motions.

God being stuffed with his scarred thick digits was so good, you could only imagine how much he was enjoying himself. Sure be was a pervert but at the end of the day he was yours and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

"mmph~, c'mon zuzu, make me cum baby boy, c'mon be a good boy f'me~"

You choke out a groan, the pleasure beginning to be far too much for you to handle, you feel that impending coil inside of you threatening to break every time he moans into your cunt, sending vibrations all the way up your body. He hadn't moved back to take a single breath yet, you were surprised but honestly you knew even if he couldn't breathe he probably wouldn't even think about stopping the pleasure he was giving you. He'd rather die than deny you of pleasure, especially if you were letting him make you feel good. That was like the highest honor besties upon him. Making you feel good.

He moves his mouth to focus on your clit, sucking it in between his lips. He lets his tongue prod and poke and kitten lick it lightly while he shoves his fingers inside of you, never letting up the intense speed he had. You feel your arms begin to weaken inside of his hair, your whole body shaking and shivers above him , eyes rolling back from the way he moaned around your clit.

Izuku lolled his tongue out and gently licked stripes up and down your clit, hot breath making the sensitive bundle of nerves feel even better, the sounds that left him were so hot and dirty. The way izukus moaned as if he were the one being pleasured in such immense ways. He loved getting head from you, sure, but there was nothing better than giving you head. Hell he'd dare even say that not even sex itself was better than getting to eat you out.

He gives your clit one last long suck before you choke out a loud breathy moan and fall back onto the bed, body spasming and shaking underneath him while he worked his magic from on his knees. Izuku moans inside of your cunt and licks and sucks up everything you give him, his fingers slow down as he fucks you through you orgasm, letting tiny mewls and gentle words out.

"mm- thank you-- s'much, so good..~"

He was trying his hardest not to overstimulate you but he couldn't help it, he just couldn't pull his mouth away from you. You tasted so sweet and so good he just couldn't even try to.

You kick izukus head away shaking and twitching from the overstimulation before falling back onto the bed. He catches his breath and just stares up at you, the way your chest raised and lowered in a rhythmic pattern

Izuku is, was, and will always be enamored with you. He just loves you so so much!

AN: I wanna post more OC art chat but I'm scared, like my art style has been going through... Some changes.. and I'm js afraid that no one will like it😞

Also if you don't already know this shit is not proofread there will be no warnings and yeah!!!!! Like all of my fics 💀

[xxchumanixx]

May I please request a fic where the reader (who's a famous singer) falls in love with Tim but is reluctant to fully trust and be vulnerable with him due to bad experiences she's had with men in the past? The reader could eventually write and sing a song about her love for Tim which blows up and even wins awards like Grammys too which makes their relationship stronger and she opens up her heart more? 🥺

Be myself

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a bit of angst, mentions of physical abuse / hitting (please look for help if you're in an abusive relationship! Being abused is not normal and it shouldn't be simply endured and viewed as it) Word count: 2.421 Authors note: I don't know if I used the gif before (probably did), but it just fits perfectly. I know you linked Whats love got to do with it by our legend Tina, but I kinda didn't vibe with it. I hope you'll still like it, though (if it was even meant for reference to the song the reader writes). I'm in no way a songwriter, so I'm not at all sure about that small part i wrote there. I know I posted a sneak peak for something different, but this gave me so much motivation to write so i put it first. Enjoy!

He didn't know how he ended up with you of all people.

Not that he'd complain.

Never.

But a famous singer like you and a cop like him? It had to be fate that brought you together when him and his rookie had been called to deescalate a situation at a concert of yours.

He didn't expect to fall for you - hell, you probably didn't either. It just kinda happened after you gave him your number before him and his rookie left.

It had been meant more like a joke - yet he hadn't been able to get you out of his head and neither did you. So he texted you.

Three weeks later you went on your first date.

You had been cautious, bad experiences with previous boyfriends and dates branding you more than you'd have liked to admit.

And so you didn't.

The date went great, leading to another one shortly after.

Tim swore you were playing some magic trick on him. The speed in which he fell for you was shocking. In a few weeks you had him wrapped around your finger.

It didn't take long for him to admit his feelings to you, saying he'd understand if you weren't ready for anything yet, and as he rambled on, you'd cut him off with a kiss.

Because you were indeed ready.

At least that's what you thought.

Not that you didn't have feelings for him - you had, and they were strong. You just had trouble letting yourself be too open, too vulnerable.

To trust easily.

Though, right from the start, you knew he was different. He was interested in your career, yes, but in a way that didn't profit him or made him want to brag about his girlfriend being famous.

Or try and hit you if you didn't spend all your money on him. It had happened once, leaving a mark on your soul you had trouble getting rid of. Getting rid of the douchebag wasn't exactly easy, either.

But that was another thing.

No, Tim supported you, took days off to watch your concerts and be there for you. And maybe to have the time of his life with you in your wardrobe backstage.

For a while now, you had been working on a project - a new song that one day came to your mind when you thought about the past few months and your relationship with Tim.

It had almost been a year now, and you started to question whether your cautiousness was misplaced.

Not that you didn't trust him.

You trusted him more than you did any other man you'd been with, it just was like a habit of sorts. Some sort of protection your mind had put up in the beginning.

It wasn't easy to let that guard down.

It was one of the main parts you included in that song. How he made you want to be more open, to trust and give up that control you so desperately held onto.

To love without the constant fear of it all going downhill.

Your producer, Savannah, supported you all the way. You wrote your song, recorded it over and over again until you were a hundred percent convinced that it did Tim justice in a way.

Or rather his love for you. The way he never treated you differently even though you were famous.

Sure, there were times when his face would be plastered along magazine articles alongside yours - especially the beginning hadn't been easy.

Hiding a relationship wasn't easy and it certainly didn't work in this case, either. The first time it happened it had been on Instagram.

Someone had seen you and him together, taking a video and posting it for everyone to see. Once it reached a certain amount of views, it spread like wildfire, and everyone knew.

Tim wasn't very happy about it.

He understood that it was part of your life, but he didn't like it - and that included him - plastered all over the internet.

When you were shopping and hoarded by paparazzi or too many fans and he'd notice you were overwhelmed, he'd play the 'I'm a cop, please stand back' card, effectively getting you out of the situation.

Another thing you loved him for.

He didn't thrive on the constant attention, didn't suck it up like a sponge and used it to his advantage. Not like other men had tried to do before.

So why was it so hard to let go? Why was it so hard to trust, to let yourself be too vulnerable?

When you published the song, Tim had yet to hear it.

Yes, maybe you should have let him listen to it before publishing it, but you were too nervous. Too nervous he'd laugh at you, tell you that you were crazy for writing and publishing that song.

It would have also meant he'd question the origin - why you had such trust issues, had these problems of opening up.

You didn't want to be judged. After all, you still hadn't told him about it.

Only a few days later, you and Tim were driving in his truck home, when suddenly, the radio moderator announced your new song. Tim's gaze snapped to you - normally you'd show him your upcoming projects, talk to him about them.

He didn't know you'd just published a new song.

Your cheeks heated up as he stared at you in confusion before his gaze fixed back on the street. You knew he was listening, picking up on the lyrics.

Another thing you loved about him.

He didn't just hear the songs, he listened to them. Analyzing them, understanding them.

So it was no surprise he did understand this song, too. About a minute into the song he parked in his driveway, killing the engine but leaving the radio on.

You nibbled on your lip nervously, heart beating wildly as you tried to make out his reaction. You couldn't read his thoughts, so you had to rely on his body language.

And when he understood the song was about him, his gaze snapped to yours right as the second chorus hit.

You let me be myself, and I thank you for that.

You ban all the bad thoughts from my head.

No matter how hard I try, I can't find anything bad about you.

And I hope you see me like that, too.

You support me, give me strength,

It is wrong to hold you at arms length.

I love you and I hope you see,

that your're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

You swallowed, not interrupting him as he listened to the rest of the song. This certainly hadn't been how you'd planned this.

Sure, you wanted him to know about the song and all the things it expressed sooner or later, but when you published it, the thought of him hearing it that soon hadn't exactly crossed your mind.

When the song ended and the next came up, he immediately turned the radio off.

He stared at you, shocked, surprised.

In awe.

You bit your lip as his own parted, though nothing came out. His head tilted slightly, thinking.

"Is it true?" was the first thing he asked. "Or is it just... I don't know, a random love song?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you shook your head. "No, it's not a random love song." you said. "It... It's about you, Tim."

He nodded slightly, still shocked. "What about the- the trust issues you talk about? Or sing, for that matter." he inquired further. "Or the 'keeping at arms length'?"

You swallowed, sighing quietly as you looked away. "It's all true, yes." you admitted quietly. "And I know I should have told you, and I know you're having a lot of questions right now, but... I'm sorry."

Tim leaned forward over the middle console and placed his finger under your chin to lift your head, his blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for." he said, shaking his head slightly. "Yes, it would be nice to know the details behind it, but I understand that you didn't tell me. Or show me the song beforehand, for that matter. It's great, by the way - just like everything else about you."

You blushed, suddenly feeling undeserving of him. He was way too caring and understanding.

"I mean, I assumed some things..." he continued, tilting his head from side to side for a moment. "But I never pushed you to tell me. And I won't now. Neither did you on the subject of Isabel. If you want to tell me, I'm happy to listen, but you don't have to. Just know that I feel incredibly honored and love you."

Tears burned in your eyes, and suddenly, you knew you could trust him with everything. No more keeping him at arms length.

"I love you, too." you breathed out, smiling through the tears. "I just- I don't know." you shook your head in sudden embarrassment. "Ever since I got famous all the men seemed to want the same thing. Fame, my face as their way into Hollywood. To brag about their girlfriend being famous and make themselves look more important. Or try and hit me for not spoiling them like the ungrateful bitch I am." you grimaced, and his eyes widened before they narrowed. "I know you aren't like that, I do. I just couldn't shake this... habit of closing myself off and trying to avoid another one of these situations. I'm sorry, Tim. I know you are better than them. That song is about you and it is supposed to express how I feel about you."

Tim smiled, cupping your face with his hands. "You're so much more than your career, Y/N." he told you, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "You're a caring, beautiful and brilliant woman. You're far more than I deserve yet I'm too selfish to ever let you go. I love you more than you can imagine, and I want you to know that I'd never try to get any fame or benefits or whatever from you or your career. Let alone lay a hand on you. I love you too much to risk us - not that I'd need your fame or money. I'm a cop and I love being a cop. My girlfriend just happens to be an amazing singer."

You laughed quietly, blushing more. His words spread a warmth through you like no one else ever did. "You're flattering me." you mumbled sheepishly. He cocked a brow. "I'm not." he said. "You are an amazing singer. You're amazing in general, all over."

You laughed once more, a smile on your lips. "You're way too good for me, Tim Bradford." you said. "I'm the one not deserving you."

He huffed, tilting his head from side to side again. "Debatable." he said. He leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. "Come on, let's head inside." he mumbled against them. "I want to celebrate this song."

It had been about two weeks until your song seemed to have gained massive popularity, and when the letter landed in the mail weeks later, you screamed.

Tim had rushed into the kitchen, gun drawn as he tried to find out what happened. When he saw you with the letter in hand, pressing a hand to your mouth, he lowered the gun, stepping beside you.

One look at the letter and his lips parted.

You looked up in your excitement, almost headbutting him where he was looking over your shoulder. "Tim-" you breathed out, cutting yourself off with another squeal. He grimaced at the high sound, though laughing as he moved to hug you from behind.

"Baby, that's amazing." he breathed out. "I'm so proud of you." You bit your cheek, heart pounding wildly. "I- I mean, I haven't won anything yet." you said, fingers trembling as they held the letter. "But..." "But you're nominated." Tim finished for you. "That's more than most can wish for. This is amazing, Y/N. God, I'm so proud of you."

You smiled widely, clutching the letter to your chest. You giggled and jumped up and down in his arms, pressing a hand to your lips. Tim laughed quietly, holding tighter onto you, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. In the last few weeks you'd grown even closer, and it all felt more right than ever.

"Told you you're amazing."

Nervous wasn't word enough to describe your current state.

The Grammys.

The fucking Grammys.

Never would you have thought this would happen. Who would have thought you'd make it this far?

Fidgeting with your small clutch nervously, you took a deep, trembling breath. Tim grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You'll be okay.

The wait had been torture.

Waiting for the day to come, waiting for the announcements. It was like a dream come true, yet the wait left you on edge.

You'd been nominated for single of the year. Your song about Tim Be Myself had literally exploded, landing you a spot at the Grammys.

You inhaled shakily as the nominees were announced before the moderator opened an envelope. She drew it out, making the anticipation rise higher and higher until your heart suddenly slammed to a stop.

"Best single of the year goes to... Be Myself!" Your lips parted, not believing what just happened. Tim cheered, the crowd applauded, and you got up on shaky legs.

You couldn't believe it.

This was more than you could have ever wished for, and as Tim pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving you the biggest, most proudest smile you'd ever seen on him before he ushered you to the stage, you knew it.

You knew he was the one.

He was the one that treated you right. The one that loved you unconditionally.

And you'd be forever grateful for that.

Tag List

@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly @augustvandyne @RookieTrek @dhundhchrih @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @caplanbuckybarnes @sacredwarrior88

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bunny love ⋆.ೃ࿔* (❀)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 0.91k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ requests: OPEN

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: mentions of the red room, Natasha’s past, insomnia (if there’s anymore please let me know!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ AN: hi so… i’m sorry for the inactivity, i had a lot going on and college was kicking my ass, i wrote something short yet cute and i hope you like it!!

Natasha Romanoff is not one to love openly. For most of her life, she has been reclusive and private. She is not one to gossip about what she just did, who she just saw, or what she saw someone doing. She’s a mere bystander in her own life if you will. Her life now (in stark contrast) still hangs within her. Her need to be closed off, untrusting, and unworthy still hangs within her.

Until she met you (clique, I know), it’s true. You brought her out of her shell and taught her that needing and wanting love is okay. It was rocky, the start of your relationship; many times when you wouldn’t talk for a few days, hence the reclusiveness, but she’d come back to you. You wouldn’t hold it against her, heavens no. After all she went through and the significance of the relationship you were building with her held, no, you were patient and accepting. Even if it did make you a little overwhelmed with the mood changes now and then, it was all worth it.

Every sleepless night you would endure, either waiting for her to come home or staying up with her when her thoughts got the better of her, working out (spectating) until she got tired and you took her back to bed. Every little argument you guys found yourselves in. They were minor things really: Natasha returning from a mission injured and not going to medbay, leaving you to insist that you take care of her. Natasha becoming adorably annoyed at you when you don’t send her a good morning or goodnight text (she was based in Europe, and it was still 3 AM for you), so you would have to make it up to her with lots of cuddles when she got back. Little things really.

Over time, especially with your unwavering patience and understanding) Natasha would slowly grow to become ever so slightly bolder out of the comfort of her or your room. For example, she would make your lunch and leave you a little note in the container (and crucify anybody if they were to eat it), rest her head on your shoulder when you guys were in the living area or sit on the opposite end of the couch with her feet in your lap. Baby steps.

Behind closed doors, Natasha was the most delicate person you would ever encounter, truly.

She would be so unbelievably tentative and nurturing and not at all who people think she is.

Her soul lost to the monsters who tainted it and ruined her girlhood, not giving her a chance to fight for herself. She told you she wouldn’t change what happened to her; it has made her so much stronger, and she wouldn’t be where she is today if it hadn’t been for her history. She embraces it. She’s stronger now, and it won’t happen again.

Through all the terrors of her childhood, you’d think she’d be afraid of any form of intimacy or contact. She was at first, she wasn’t clear of your intentions, she was weary. But when you came into her life, full of love, admiration and patience, she backtracked. Of course it scared her, she’d never known love like the one you were more than willing to bestow upon her. But over time, it became a sanctuary for her, a haven, a place where she could shed her masks and her troubles and show her vulnerability, and it was such a beautiful sight.

It was amazing to watch the woman who used to ghost you every time you dropped a compliment become the woman who would come home to you and just lose herself in you. Whether it was gentle loving she needed or reassurance, you were her rock.

She learned that not all people were out to get her, not everyone holds her past against her.

Her favourite way to show you how much she loves you and how much you mean to her is definitely acts of service. She will be the one to make your coffee in the morning, just how you like it, ensure that your towel is warm after your shower, and put your bookmark in your book if you fall asleep reading.

She knows you better than you know yourself. After years of watching people’s behaviour, she picks up on subtle changes in your demeanour or mood. You must believe that she will do anything in her power to help you if she can.

When you truly got Natasha to feel comfortable with you, she would always be on you, your shadow, unless she got called away. Her hand was always in yours, her hand on the small of your back, her hand on your thigh, her hand combing through your hair. You were her life source. You fell first, but you cannot deny that this woman fell harder.

She cannot express how much it means to her, you waiting for her, not giving up on her, she owes you her life, she would say, you saved her for the better.

You also have your downs like every single other person in the world, and it’s Natasha who pulls you back to her. You could be crying, and she would wipe your tears away, her forehead pressed against yours, hands cupping your face, telling you that you’ll face it together.

You were made for each other, so opposite yet so the same.