#listen cas's LEG???

[2tarbell]

MEAN SOMETHING — KOOK!READER

only one person knew how to handle your drunk best friend…

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

you were going to end rafe cameron.

on the one night, the one night, you wanted some alone time and to be away from the boys, he decided to get sloppy drunk. of course, your other best friends have no idea how to take care of a drunk person and you honestly wondered how they even took care of themselves. which left you to slide on some slippers and drive over.

now as you stood before the front door in your victoria’s secret yoga pants and pink sweater, waiting for topper to answer it, you wonder why you let yourself get pulled into shit like this.

it’s rafe, that’s why. that’s always the reason why.

the door swings open to reveal a frazzled topper and kelce, you would’ve laughed at them if you weren’t so pissed. they took in your attire, the prissiness still evident even your pajamas. but you looked slightly disheveled, something they didn’t see often. both boys snorted at the sight of your bunny slippers but you quickly cut them off.

“say anything and i’ll chop your dicks off. where is he?” you seethed.

your tone brooked no argument and they both stepped aside to let you sashay in. kelce had his keys in hand as he mumbled something about rafe being ‘in his room’ and ‘on the floor’.

god was really testing you tonight.

you shooed them away, locking up the door behind them and stomping up the stairs. just praying he wasn’t choking on his own vomit or something.

the sight that greeted you literally made you pause and take out your phone, nails tapping the screen as you took a picture. rafe cameron, laying on his back and seemingly enthralled by the ceiling fan. it was genuinely amusing and kind of adorable. but the bottle of whiskey sitting next to him reminded you of your duty.

“rafe. sit up.”

his head snapped up at your voice, a boyish grin on his lips. he looked younger when he was drunk, stress and age having melted away.

“heeey, baby, whaddaya doin’ hereee?” he slurred, a low rumbly version of his voice.

you stepped closer, standing over him. hands on your hips as you looked down at him. his eyes were hardly open but you didn’t miss how they trailed down your figure.

“making sure you don’t die — get up.” the words were sharp in attempt to make him seriously listen.

he giggled and sighed, pushing up to rest on his elbows. the movement had his head spinning but he didn’t give a shit. just needed a better look at his pretty best friend.

“oh, y’know it turns me on when y’talk to me like that…”

you poked his side with your foot a bit harshly. patience wearing thin, you glared down at him.

“you’re such a pain in my ass—“

“mmm, love your ass,” he hummed but then groaned when you kicked him again, harder.

“rafe, i am so serious right now—“

with a childish huff of annoyance, he lifted himself off the ground but then immediately flopped face first on his bed. small victories, small victories.

you were happy to see dumb and dumber had enough brains to leave a water bottle with him. you grabbed it off the nightstand and perched at the edge of the bed next to the drunken 6’2 baby. a delicate hand rubbed his back; despite being annoyed at him for getting this drunk, you were still worried.

“hey, babe, c’mon — turn over. you need to drink some water…”

rafe unceremoniously flipped over, long legs dangling off the side of the bed. he sat up slowly and groaned at each movement. the room was nonstop spinning, so he decided to focus on one thing: your face. a smile worked its way onto his lips before he could stop himself.

you looked so beautiful, all worried and doting on him. blue eyes stared at your features (like he didn’t already have them committed to memory). the tent in his pant caught your eye and he watched as your eyes rolled. despite the memories of nights spent tangled up with him, you couldn’t believe the audacity he had.

“no way you’re seriously hard right now—“

“mmm, can’t control it around you.”

his smirk was frustrating you, in more ways than one. no, you wouldn’t do anything while he was this drunk. he knows that. yet he still tries to lean up and—

the water bottle presses to his lips, you trying to ease him into drinking and ignoring the bulge you’ve become all too familiar with. his betrayed expression made you snicker. this wasn’t the time to let fantasies run wild. kicking off your slippers and tucking your legs beneath you, you leaned closer.

“c’mon, rafe,” your voice was sweet, so sweet. he couldn’t do anything but take large gulps of water, trying to please you. he was a dumbass but you smiled at his eager approach.

“okay, okay — slow down before you jus’ throw it all up…” the giggle you let out settled right into his bones. rafe found himself wondering why you were just friends. he thought that a lot lately.

“go out with me.”

he definitely thought he sounded more debonair than he did. in reality, half of the words he spoke just flowed into each other. but he kept that low drawl that always sent you reeling. you couldn’t do this, couldn’t approach that territory. not now. you’d be happy if you never did.

“rafe—“ you tensed up.

“no, seriously. you’re— you’re gorgeous and y’put up with me. i mean, c’mon—“

the deep sting to your heart wasn’t something new. but it felt stronger this time, more painful. with a sigh, you set the water back down on his nightstand, brushing his hair back as he continues to rant.

“i think we get along great. y’know y’ten times better than— than any other chick i’ve been with— shit, any chick on the island—“

a bittersweet smile graced your lips. rafe noticed they were devoid of any pink or gloss. you really got out of bed just to come and take care of him? that’s gotta mean something.

“c’mon, doll face… gimme a reason y’shouldn’t.”

his words trailed off into contented hums when you started to scratch his scalp. boys are so easy. but boys aren’t rafe.

“i’m a bitch.” the resignation in your voice was telling. being a bitch, being called one wasn’t something new to you. these days you accepted the word with pride, reclaiming it in a sense. but you knew rafe, kook boys, and hell even pogue boys didn’t want a bitch. you were too much for most people.

the scoff he let out made you smile, cheeks dimpling and fingers twisting his hair. he shook his head with a frown and rested a large hand on your waist.

“nooo, y’not.” the words punctuated with a squeeze.

“i am—“

rafe reached up and cupped the back of your neck, silencing any chance to speak or protest. you know what that touch meant: ‘i’m talking now’.

“you’re beautiful. and— and smart and good.” his whispered words are drunken and mumbled. but you felt like your heart might explode, a heat pushing through your veins and replacing the blood with rafe.

rafe, rafe, rafe.

“best girl i know... yeah?” he urges, squeezing the back of your neck. your heart thumps faster at the pressure. you nod, because what else can you do when he speaks to you like that?

with a satisfied hum, he smiles. the action completely softens his face and it blows you away every time. you’re pressed closer, leaning over him, and he’s staring at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“that’s my girl…”

you can’t tell who leans in first, but soon you’re locking lips with your best friend. something that shouldn’t be familiar and exhilarating as it is, but continues to be every single time. the kiss that you share is more gentle than you two have ever been with each other. in your complicated relationship, it was always hot and rough.

but this… this was slow and comforting. he tasted like whiskey and you let your lips part just slightly, a tentative lick of his tongue into the warmth of your mouth made you feel weak.

rafe was alight with want. he’d always wanted you. wanted to be in your presence. wanted to hear your voice. wanted to have you beneath him. wanted to be beneath you. he wanted it all. maybe it was the whiskey talking, but nothing had ever felt more right than when your hand cupped his cheek and your lips where on his.

“you should sleep…” your voice was hardly recognizable, soft and hesitant against his lips. he didn’t have to to ask, you knew he wanted you to stay. and you know you couldn’t have left if you wanted to.

so, you let him wrap his arms around you and nestled into his neck. and when he starts to snore like he always denies he does, you felt like things might be okay. despite it all, he was gonna be your rafe.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure were like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna cum? That it, baby? You want me to make ya cum?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to cum for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like you’re only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… cum for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[trashmoutth]

You wanna keep arguing now?

Dean Winchester oneshot Summary: Reader and Charlie go on a hunt by themselves and it goes wrong. Now you're stuck in a motel with a pissed of Dean Winchester. Pairing: Dean x f!reader, implied Sam x f!reader (platonic) Warrning(s): NSFW, minors dni!, smut, angst, mentions of death, arguing, english is not my first language and I didn't write for awhile but my spn obsession is back and I felt the need.

„What the hell were you thinking?!“

He was furious with you, you knew that. But after two weeks of being cooped up in the bunker you were starting to go crazy. So, when Charlie called to ask for your help on a vampire case you did not think twice about it. You weren’t exactly a full-fledged hunter per se, but you’ve had some experience in the past couple of years. You’ve helped the boys fight demons, angels, even leviathans, so you believed you could handle yourself against some punk-ass vamps. Not to mention, Charlie was a friend, and you were bored out of your mind.

You left a note for Sam, took one of the cars from the bunker (well, borrowed) and drove off to meet with Charlie. What you did not expect was the case going downhill as quickly as it did. The vamps captured you, fed on you and were trying to decide weather to turn you or kill you, when he came barging in. He took the entire nest out in less than five minutes and set you free. Charlie broke her leg so he dropped her off in a hospital and was currently driving you back to the bunker.

You were grateful to him for saving you, of course, but you knew that he was fuming. He was driving for an hour without saying a word to you and you could sense the anger coming off of him. He didn’t even turn the music on so you sat there uncomfortably in complete silence, only accompanied by the sound of the car engine.

“Dean…”, you tried to begin a sentence, but he quickly cut you off.

“Shut the hell up! I don’t wanna hear it!”

You took a deep breath. You tried to keep your cool because you knew you were in the wrong here, but the way he spoke to you started to make you angry.

“Dean, I know I shouldn’t have left, but you and Sam were working your own case and Charlie needed help…”

“If Charlie needs help, she can always call me! Or Sam! Or Cas! What the hell were you thinking?! Just leaving the bunker like that?! No note, no anything…”

“I left a note!” you protested.

“Well, I didn’t get it!”

“I left it on Sam’s table…”

“Oh, I see! That’s nice! So now you and Sam are keeping stuff from me? That’s great…”

You rolled your eyes. He was so dramatic.

“It’s not like that…”

“No, no, no, you know what? That’s fine! You and Sammy have something going on, I don’t give a crap, but the next time your ass needs saving don’t call me!”

“Well, I’m not the one who called you, Charlie did”, you said calmly.

 He shot you a dirty look and stepped on the gas pedal.

“Jesus Christ, man, slow down!”, you gasped.

“Oh, so you can walk into a vampire’s nest all by yourself, but my driving is too much for you?”

He did slow down though. You spent the next thirty minutes driving in silence and then he pulled over in front of a motel.

“Come on”, he said and opened your car door for you.

“We’re stopping here?”

“It’s a five-hour drive to the bunker and you’re still bleeding”.

“I’m not bleeding…”

“Just get out of the car!”

You let out an annoyed sigh, but you listened to him. Truthfully, you were feeling a little dizzy. He booked a room for the two of you and practically carried you inside. He placed you on the bed, took out the first-aid kit from his car and started patching you up in silence.

You could tell by the look on his face that he was still angry, but his hands were gentle and careful. You were trying to think of something to say, something that would make things better, but nothing came to mind. You just observed him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes gloomy, but there was something else in them. Like a trace of… fear? Maybe.

You weren’t unaccustomed to Dean being mad at you and it was so easy to forget why he was that way. He cared. He cared more than anyone you’ve ever met. As much as you bickered, you knew he loved you in a way, and that he was simply scared to lose you.

“Dean…”, you tried again, “I’m sorry”.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. He just clenched his jaw harder. You took that as a sign he might actually let you speak now, so you kept going.

“I know I shouldn’t have left like that, and I know I screwed up. I thought I could help, you know? Charlie needed backup and you and Sam were busy… I just thought I shouldn’t let her go on a hunt by herself. I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted that either. I was just trying to do the right thing… Like you would’ve!”.

His eyes finally met yours. He wasn’t that angry anymore, but he was annoyed at your words.

“You are not me!”, he finally said.

Ouch.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, maybe so, but any backup is better than no back up!”, you defended yourself, “And if it weren’t for me, Charlie would’ve gotten a lot worse than a broken leg!”

At your surprise, he chuckled. Now you were the one who was starting to get angry.

“Don’t laugh at me!”, you said firmly, “You are looking at me like I’m some kind of idiot! Or an amateur! I know I may not have been raised a hunter like you and Sam, but I’ve been through a lot worse than what happened today! I fought by your side against Lucifer and Lilith and Eve and Dick friggin’ Roman! I’ve saved your ass personally multiple times! I’ve been dead! I’ve been to hell! I’m not some stupid civilian, Dean! After everything that happened, I’m… I’m a hunter! Weather you like it or not! Weather I like it or not! I might not be your calibre of a hunter but…”

“Woah, woah, slow down, hunter!”, he raised his hands defensively, “That’s not what I meant!”

You blinked in a surprise.

“Then what exactly did you mean?”, you asked, still frustrated at his tone.

He let out a silent groan.

“Listen, I know you are good at the job. I know you are tough and can handle yourself. Even though today was a bust”, he added in accusatory tone.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you.

“But when I say you are not me…”, he shook his head, searching for the right words. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect himself and finally spoke again, in a calmer tone.

“Listen, I screw up too! Hell, I’ve screwed up more times than I can count! And you’re right, you’ve saved my ass a lot! So have Sam and dad and Bobby… but if something happens to me, then that’s on me! That’s my own friggin’ fault! But it’s my job to protect you! And if something happens to you… I just couldn’t live with that!”

You listened to him in silence, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying to you. A part of you understood. The guilt, the responsibility he was feeling. You wanted to help him. To help him with that weight he was carrying. To tell him everything is ok and that you understand. But all that came out of your mouth was:

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dean”.

He flinched. Something twinkled in his green eyes and his voice turned cold again.

“I get it, I’m sure you would much rather have Sammy watching over you but I’m afraid I’m all you can get right now!”.

You raised your eyebrows in a surprise.

“What?”, it was all you were able to say.

“Listen, I know you two have something going on and the last thing I want is to get in the way of that, sweetheart”.  

You shook your head, and a small smile appeared on your lips before you could stop it.

Is that what this was? This entire tantrum? Was Dean Winchester… jealous?

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about”, you said sincerely.

“Sure”, he replied.

“Dean… Sam and I… we’re friends, that’s all! I mean I love him, he’s like a brother to me. Like a big, nerdy, dorky brother I’ve always wanted! And I’d do anything for him, just like you would. But… I could never be with him!”, you made a grimace and laughed.

“Yeah, okay”, he said.

“Why don’t you believe me?”, you laughed out loud this time. You just couldn’t stop it. This entire conversation was so bizarre.

“Because I’m not blind. He’s the one you always turn to when you need something, he’s the one you always call, text, talk to… hell, you left him a note today, didn’t you?”.

“Well, yes…”

“Like I said, I get it! I’m not trying to be a dick!”, he said, “It’s fine by me if you have a thing for each other, I’m glad even… you both deserve to be happy! All I’m saying is, it would be nice to get a heads up when you’re about to do something stupid, especially if I’m the one who’s gonna end up having to save you!”.

“Dean Winchester, I promise you I’m not trying to screw your brother!”, you yelled out,

“The reason I left him a note and not you is because I knew you were going to act like this! You would tell me to turn my ass around and come back home and if I didn’t you would come to get me, just like you did! And THEN you would yell at me just like you did! I’m not picking favourites, it’s just that Sam is easier to deal with sometimes, that’s all!”

“Oh, so I’m difficult to deal with, is that it?”

“Hell yes, you are!”

“So why do you keep dealing with me?”

“Oh, you’re such a damn idiot!”, you stood up from the bed in exasperation.

It was a mistake. The blood rushed to your brain, and you swerved on your feet. He jumped up and grabbed your shoulders with jungle cat-like reflexes. The look on his face went from irritated to worried in a matter of a second. It made you want to chuckle, but you held it in.

Goddamn, did you love this man.

“I’m fine, I’m fine”, you said quickly.

His eyes and voice both softened as he tried to get you back on the bed,

“Maybe you should get some rest. We can keep arguing in the morning”.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Why do you want to keep arguing with me?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s the last thing I want to do with you”.

Your heart stopped for a second. Your eyes widened and you looked at him in shock.

“Excuse you?”

He let out another sigh and tried to sit you down once again.

“Nothing, just go to sleep”.

“No, no, no, I don’t think so”, you said, shaking your head and turning around to face him, “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying crap. Don’t pay attention to it”.

But you wouldn’t let go. It’s been months since you first started noticing the change in Dean’s behaviour towards you. When you first met, he annoyed you so much and as far as you could tell, the feeling was mutual. You really were closer with Sam for a long time and the only reason you tolerated Dean was because he was his brother. And because well, he did save your life a couple of times. But then you died and came back and Dean, well… changed. You thought it was because of the guilt he felt over your death. Metatron did kill you because of your involvement with the Winchesters.

But it wasn’t just the guilt. You two started going on hunts together, he trusted you, he talked to you and looked at you like he’s never done before. You started suspecting he might have developed feelings for you that were more than just friendship, but there wasn’t an opportunity to bring it up. And you wanted to bring it up. You wanted to bring it up so badly.

“No!”, you protested and looked directly into his eyes, “What did you mean? What do you want to do with me?”, you asked, almost teasingly, but with a genuine desire to receive an answer.

He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes twinkled. His hands were still gently resting on your shoulders, making sure you don’t swerve again. He raised one of them and slowly brought his fingers up to caress your cheek. His touch was soft and warm, but it made a shiver go down your spine as if you were touched by lightning. You raised up your hand and gently placed it on his in affirmation. A small smile escaped both of your lips’.

You were still glaring into his eyes, waiting for him. Finally, his hand cupped your cheek and he brought his face to yours, slowly pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was deep and gentle and warm, and it left you feeling breathless. You pulled him closer to you, running your fingers through his hair. He responded in the same way, sliding his hands down your waist and grabbing your thighs to lift you off the ground. You locked your legs around him as he carried you over to the table that was placed in the middle of the room.

He placed you on the table as his hands began exploring every inch of your body, his lips never leaving yours. Before you could even form a coherent thought, his hands were all up in your hair, over your chest, your thighs… In the moment they reached between your legs you let out a soft moan and arched your back, leaving your neck so beautifully exposed to him. He took advantage of that and moved his lips down to your collarbone, gently kissing and sucking on it. You pulled him even closer and moaned again. His scent was everywhere. He was everywhere. And it wasn’t enough.

You started to unbutton your plaid shirt but his fingers were quicker than yours.

You smiled at his impatience.

“It’s okay, the buttons won’t run away”, you said.

“I wish they would”, he muttered, making you laugh joyfully.

He smiled and kissed you again, unbuttoning your shirt completely and taking it off you in one fell swoop.

You tried to unbutton his now, but he was already out of it before you could even try.

“God”, you teased him, “You’re so impatient!”

“You have no idea”, he groaned, lifting you up again and crashing you both onto the bed.

He was placing hungry kisses all over your chest and stomach. His fingers then reached down to unbutton your jeans and you shivered in excitement as he slowly pulled them off you.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart”, he said in a low tone, his eyes looking up to you as they were glistening with excitement and desire.

You bit your lip as you felt another shiver go down your spine.

“Open them”, he repeated.

You did what he asked, slowly spreading your legs as you felt the wetness and the pulsating sensation coming from between.

He gently moved the fabric of your underwear to a side, exposing you to him. His hungry eyes met yours once again as he gave you a soft kiss right between your thighs. You arched your back slightly and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him closer as he kissed and licked and sucked.

“These are getting in the way”, he said quietly and finally took off your panties.

You couldn’t help yourself and another moan left your lips, much louder this time. This encouraged him to go faster as you were becoming a moaning mess underneath his tongue. The pressure started building and building and building… and then he suddenly pulled away.

You widened your eyes in shock, desperate to pull him back down, but he pulled you up instead.

“I’m not done with you yet”, he said quietly as his breath tickled your ear.

You groaned in frustration.

“Now who’s impatient?”, he asked with a teasing smile.

“God, you’re so mean!”, you said.

“We’ll see about that”, he said as he reached down between your legs again and started rubbing your clit. He then slowly pushed one finger inside of you, stretching you out and earning another moan from you.

“Oh, God”, you whispered.

“You like that?”, he asked and added another finger.

You moaned again in response.

“Am I still mean?”

“Yes, you are!”, you responded.

He pushed you back on the bed while placing himself on top of you. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. You reached out and gently cupped the growing bulge in his boxers making him groan quietly. You gasped in excitement. He was so hard.

He noticed your reaction and smiled.

“You see how hard I am for you?”

You bit your lip and nodded. Then you slowly pulled down his boxers and took him into your hands.

You’ve imagined him like this countless times, but you were still pleasantly surprised to see how big he was. You gripped him firmly and began to stroke his shaft as he groaned again.

You licked the tip and then put the rest of his length into your mouth, gently sucking on it. He moaned and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

You sucked harder causing him to cuss and moan again. You loved the sound of it. Your fingers found their way between your legs, and you began touching yourself as you sucked him off.

He seemed to like that even more and by the sounds he was making you could tell he was close.

“You’re going to need to slow down, sweetheart”, he said in a hoarse voice, “Or I’m going to cum without even being inside you first”.

You sucked on him a couple more times but then you let go. He pulled you up to kiss you, but you just pushed him down to the bed and climbed on top of him. His eyes widened in excitement as you guided his length to your entrance and slowly began to ride him.

You loved seeing him like this, messy and desperate for your touch. He gripped your thighs and moaned your name, his eyes staring deep into yours, begging you to fuck him harder.

You gave him what he wished for and began moving your hips faster and faster as you both cussed and groaned.

“Yes, yes”, he was whispering between the moans, “That’s it, ride me baby, please!”.

You were so close, and by the looks of it, so was he. You gripped each other closer as the pressure was building once again. You pulled his face close to your chest as he was about to come and finally, reached the so very anticipated release.

You held each other like that for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths and then you finally laid back in the bed.

He pulled you close to him as you buried your face into his neck, just breathing in his scent. You were laying like that in silence for a little while, not really knowing what to say. Not really needing to say anything. Until he finally started chuckling like a little kid.

“What?”, you raised your eyes to him. “Well, do you wanna keep arguing now?”, he asked with a grin. You laughed too. “Oh, definitely! Just let me get some water first”.

[steddiehyperfixation]

accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 

“Steve…” 

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 

Shit. 

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 

Fuck. 

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

(ao3 link)

[riksaes]

when he realise he's fallen in love

ni-ki nishimura x fem reader , synposis : ni-ki realises he's fallen in love and wants time to go slower , genre.. fluff , word count ?? , idk , listened to nothings gonna hurt you baby by cas and it ends with us movie ruined it for me so ugh

rq for any idols / groups

m.list

ni-ki and you were in the practice room because of how over working ni-ki was with the upcoming dances for their comeback. he was in poor conditions due to HYBE not giving them a proper break, this made your heart crack seeing how hard he's pushing himself physically but mentally as well. it wasn't healthy for him or the group either and seeing him from a distance like this made you feel bad for not being able to do anything about it.

you debuted with the group 'newjeans' who was also known well enough for HYBE to push around and mentally destroy but not enough like enhypen. ni-ki was always worried when you over-pushed yourself especially when you got injured during the MAMA 2023 awards on stage but didnt tell anyone until one of your members pressured you into saying it. it never mattered to you but your mind always drifted off to ni-ki's health before yours and made you blind to what was wrong with the current injury of yours.

looking at ni-ki through the practice room mirrors while sitting down with a moon boot carrying down your leg. it had been three hours with you being here because ni-ki didn't want to leave you alone in your apartment be alone in the practice room. even though he felt bad that you couldn't work hard like usual, he wanted to make sure you were still going out.

without thinking ni-ki did a move that made him blind over the fact he did it wrong, which twisted his wrist but not enough to injure it fully. this caught your attention and quickly stood up to the taller boy who was sitting on the ground looking at his wrists and silently cursing at it. limping over to the boy with the quickest pace you could do and sitting down in front of him. "ki.. you okay?" you pushed his bangs away from his sweaty forehead while all he did was nod trying to forget about the exquisite pain from his wrist. "yeah i'm okay, just placed it the wrong way so it kinda stings". he ended with a sigh just wanting all of this practicing to end and go have dinners with you like a normal human being.

looking at ni-ki who's puffed out and tired from overworking himself and you standing back up. "ki stay here and don't move i'll be back" you said and went to the bag you usually brought to practice that held items in case if someone or you got injured. he titled his head and watched you from where he was in admiration because even if you were injured, you were taking care of him.

digging through the bag and finally finding the little my melody full makeup pouch and closing the bag up. you walked over to ni-ki and sat back down in front of him. he didn't know what you were doing and just stared at you with complete confusion but admiration at the same time. "gimme your hand" you said not looking at him, trying to search for the little ice pack, panadol cream and a bandage. ni-ki put his hand out in the air waiting for you to take it eventually. finding the items and placing them onto the floor next to your boot that needed the rest after walking heaps. grabbing his soft arm and placing it onto your knee that was now a table for his injured wrist.

as time went on you were trying to prevent any pain for the next few days, ni-ki looked at you like you were everything. he smiled at the little things you were doing while you were injured but putting him first before anything. it always noticed and took note that you would do this, even if something was happening or even if you had to keep up your idol facade. he brushed away the loose hair that fell out of your messy ponytail and grabbed the clip from inside of the makeup pouch and used it on your hair. you smiled at the little gesture while wrapping his wrist up and kissed where he hurt himself.

ni-ki just smiled at the small heartwarming gesture and hugged you once you finished and taking in your hair product smell, that smelt like strawberry shortcake. rubbing his face onto your hair while smiling finally realising this is who he wants to stay with forever. even though he was still young, he would wanna replay every moment again just to keep them forever.

"i love you" he said

"i know and i love you too 3000" she replied with

a/n : sorry for disappearing i lowk died and came back but i may be gone for a bit again so this is my future apology

taglist: @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @chaconkii

[cobaltperun]

R and Tara have been friends for a long time, you could even call them best friends.

Ever since moving to new York, Tara made a habit to go to parties more and getting more shit faced.

In that state she is more handsy and flirtatious and Y/N is the person who suffers from her wrath.

I hope it's a prompt you can work with 😊

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

Tara Carpenter x GN Reader (Request)

Drunk Tara is flirtier than she usually is, and you, as her best friend, have to deal with it.

Masterlist

Word count: 1.1k

You couldn't believe this was happening again. What was it? Like the fifth time this month? It was eleventh! Barely a third of the month has passed and you already had to drag Tara back to her and Sam's apartment for the fifth time! At this point you might as well accept that you were Tara’s unofficial babysitter.

"You're really adorable, you know," your drunk best friend blurted out, like she usually did. "I like your eyes," she continued. "And ears," not exactly the first thing you usually heard, but she was drunk, and it wasn't the first time she was like this when drunk. In fact, she was like this every single time and it would be adorable, if she wasn’t drinking this much. "I wanna wear your shirt," she was a hundred and ten percent, way too drunk. "You're real quiet," she hiccupped for the hundredth time since you got her to leave the party with you.

"And you're drunk like a skunk," you sighed, stuck between being done with this bullshit and not wanting to let anything bad happen to Tara while she was this drunk. Who were you trying to fool? You’d take this any day if it meant making sure Tara was safe and sound.

"I'm not a slut," she slurred as you gave up on dragging her and just lifted her up on your back. It would be faster anyway, and Tara was light, and liked being carried. It made her feel like she was taller.

"Not a skank, Tara, a skunk, the animal, the stinky one," you corrected her softly.

Tara hummed. "'Kay, I don't stick either," she sounded sleepy, well, at least you hoped she'd fall asleep, and you could avoid the other... downsides of taking care of drunk Tara.

"You reek of alcohol," you still told her and she just leaned her head on your shoulder and mumbled something unintelligible, though she did hug you tightly.

With a sigh you reached her building and began the daunting task of climbing up the stairs to her apartment. Sam was upstairs, being pacified by Mindy and Chad while you took it upon yourself to bring Tara back. Because, for some reason, she tended to listen to you, maybe it was because you've been best friends for years now.

You felt like your soul would evacuate from your exhausted body as you reached the apartment doors and leaned your forehead against the bell, too tired to do it properly.

"Damn it, Y/N, you don't have to push the bell into the wall!" Mindy exclaimed as she swung the door open, but you just grumbled and staggered toward Tara's bedroom.

From the corner of your half-closed eyes you saw Sam, her face a mixture of worry, relief and righteous fury. And you had no strength for what she was likely planning. "Scold her when she wakes up, Sam, I wanna get her to bed and crash on your couch," you had a long day, you just wanted to take care of Tara and go to sleep.

Sam probably gave up only because Tara was sleeping on your back.

You opened the doors to Tara's room and went inside. Luckily, Chad turned the lights on for you and closed the doors.

"Tara," you tried to wake her up as you just barely managed to get her on her bed and start taking her shoes off. "T," you tried again. "The Captain Dook Baba," you sighed and she sat up like she was a vampire rising from the grave, or Wednesday fucking Addams or something.

"It's The Babadook," she corrected you and you just shrugged.

"Great, whatever, just get changed," you sighed, dropping down on her bed just for a moment, just one minute for your legs to recover from all those stairs.

"You want to watch me change?" she teased you, cackling drunkenly as she turned onto her side and began brushing her hand along your arm.

"Tara," you groaned, not really in the mood to handle her drunken flirting and touching. Though her touch did feel kinda nice, it definitely always relaxed you. She was your best friend, but, well, you were in love with her, but you never did anything to show it, fearing you'd ruin your friendship. And when she flirted with you while she was this drunk you kept turning her down, because she never showed interest when she was sober, so you didn't want her to do anything she'd regret.

"It's okay if you do," she leaned in, whispering close to your ear and you just buried your face in the blanket.

"Fuck, how do others deal with you when you're this drunk?" you complained, not even wanting to imagine how the twins dealt with her. Well, Chad probably gets flustered, and Mindy probably just shuts Tara down right away

"Hmm, only with you," she somehow managed to get up and you heard her taking her clothes off.

"Wha?" you mistakenly turned your head just when she took her shirt off and quickly turned away. You felt like your cheeks were burning and you just caught a glimpse of her, and your heart was hammering in your chest, partly because of the implications of her words. Only with you? What exactly did she mean by that?!

"I only act like this with you, cause I really, really like you, Y/N," she sounded a bit less drunk as she said that, and your heart skipped a beat, but you couldn't dare to hope, you just sighed and waited until she changed and got into her bed again.

Only then did you get up. "Damn it, Tara, why can't you just say that when you're sober," you sighed, believing her to be asleep. She was always quick to fall asleep when she was this drunk.

"'Cause you keep rejecting me when I'm drunk and I don't wanna get rejected when I'm sober," she mumbled and you looked back at her, surprised.

You stared at her, somehow her eyes looked much clearer, though it was probably a temporary thing. You still leaned closer to her and pushed a strand of her hair out of her face. "Tell me again when you're sober, or don't, I might flirt first for once," you told her with a bit of a grin on your face and she nodded sleepily, a drunk, but happy smile, appeared on her face as she got more comfortable on her bed.

A/N: Well, Anon, I hope you like this, I took some liberties with the request, as you can see, so I hope you don't mind.

[bunnysbrainrot]

A Lesson in Manners

Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.

Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.

The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.

That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"

Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.

Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.

"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"

Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"

Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."

"Cas?"

"If we could even get a hold of him."

"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.

Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."

You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.

He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.

Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.

"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.

You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.

Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.

You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."

Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."

Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.

You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.

Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?

After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.

Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.

At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”

Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.

“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.

Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.

“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.

The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.

You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”

He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.

“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.

Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.

Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.

Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”

The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.

Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.

Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.

Until suddenly, you had company.

“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”

The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.

Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.

“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.

You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.

“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.

You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”

Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”

Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.

Before crossing a crucial line.

A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.

“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.

The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.

Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.

“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.

In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.

The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“

He didn’t react to your objection.

Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.

A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.

You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.

Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.

What a night, right?

It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.

“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”

——

“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.

Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.

Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”

You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!

[inez-winchester-cameron]

My Girls (18+)

↠Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

↠Summary: After a particularly long hunt, Dean finds himself taking you in the only place he can get you alone (SMUT)

↠Cw: car sex, unprotected sex, oral

↠Notes: i wanna fuck dean in Baby so bad. Also this is semi-unedited

“I’m heading out for a food run,” Dean announced, grabbing his keys. You, Sam, Cas, Jack and Dean had just returned home from a long and tiring hunt. There were a couple other-world guests also staying at the bunker as well. You thought for a moment, thinking up a plan in your head. It had been a couple weeks since you had sex with Dean, which is very odd for you two. 

You quickly got up and announced you were going with him, heading out after him. Dean got into Baby and started her up, as usual, then you got in the passenger side. You began sorting through Dean’s cassette tapes. You were the only one that Dean allowed to pick the music.

“What’re you gonna play, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip as you came across the tape that contains all the ‘sex’ songs that you and Dean had agreed were good. You found yourself slipping that into the tape player, and turn the music up a little bit as it starts playing. Dean recognized the tape immediately, and gave you a look. A hungry, desperate look.

You smiled and played innocent, “What’re we getting to eat, love?”

“Keep this shit up and we’re gonna be having you to eat.”

You found your cheeks heating up a little bit, as you rub your thighs together. Dean glances at you for a second but he then turns his attention back to the road. A few seconds later, Dean took an unfamiliar turn. You’ve never been down that road before. 

“Where’re we going?” You questioned, but Dean just smirked at you. He clearly knew where he was going and what he was doing. Eventually you made it to an old abandoned “outlook” of sorts, that outlooked over a waterfall. Dean parked the car, and turned it off.

“Be a good girl and get back there.”

You found yourself listening and you crawled into the back, waiting for Dean. He got out and got into the back, shutting the door behind him, and crawling on top of you. Soon, pink lips met yours and Dean pushed his tongue into your mouth. His hands rested on your hips and fidgeted with your waistband. 

His lips began traveling down your neck, as he mumbled, “Been missing you, princess.” He made his point by grinding down, so you could feel his hardness. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and Dean took that as a sign to continue grinding against you.  

“Need you, Dean,” you begged, as he kissed down your neck, starting to suck a hickey. When you didn’t get an immediate answer, you let out a whine. Dean lifted up his head at this, his green eyes staring directly at your face, making eye contact. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he warned, but soon slipped off his flannel and t-shirt. Your hands found their way to his chest and began to feel all of his muscles. Dean growled against your neck, grinding down harder against you. Against his words, he started getting impatient, and tore your shirt in half, before taking your bra off. He kissed between your breasts, “Missed these.” He took a moment to give each nipple a quick lick before kissing down to your belly button. 

Your body shivered at his touch, it had been so so so long. Too long. Dean pulled down your jeans and panties at the same time, licking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy. Immediately he leaned in, locking his lips onto your clit. You moaned and bucked your hips up to his mouth. Dean’s rough hands immediately shut that down, pinning your hips to the seat. 

Eventually, Dean got sloppy and started eating your pussy recklessly. Oh but it felt so good, so good to have his mouth on you.

“Dean,” you whined, “Gonna cum.” Immediately after hearing this, Dean pulled back. A long and loud whine fell from your gorgeous lips, and Dean sat back up and leaned to kiss you, shutting that down. His tongue tangled with yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. Dean always did this, he loved making you taste yourself. After a moment, he pulled back.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized for what he did a few moments earlier, “You ain’t cumming unless it's around me.” At this, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hard-on against your wet pussy. His jeans got soaked but he didn’t care and growled, grinding against you. The feeling of the jean material rubbing against your clit drew a moan from your lips. Dean smirked at this but unbuttoned his jeans, slipping them and his boxers down. 

Your lips watered at the sight of Dean’s cock, missing the weight of it on your tongue. But there wasn’t time for that tonight, Dean needed you and he needed you now. Before you knew it, Dean was pushing his cock into your greedy hole, squeezing your hip tight with the hand he wasn’t using to hold himself up.

You moaned at the stretch, but you quickly adjusted, you were made to take Dean’s cock. Dean leaned down, placing kisses along your throat, mumbling, “Ready?” With a nod and a squeeze of your legs around his waist, Dean set a quick, desperate pace. 

“Fuck, missed this. Missed my girl,” he said, not referring to you or Baby, but rather to your pussy, “Missed her so fucking bad.” Dean watched your face contort into pleasure as your eyes shut. He swore under his breath, it always got him even hornier when he saw how good he was making you feel. Your pussy clenched around him, reminding him of how undeniably tight you are, have been, and always will be. 

“Dean,” you moaned out, tangling your fingers into his hair. Dean moved a hand down to your clit, starting to rub it in circles. He swore you got even tighter as he did this, and swore under his breath again.

“Such a good girl,” he praised you, kissing down your neck as he fucked you.

“Dean, gonna cum,” he moaned, and he could feel you contracting around him. Dean leaned up and whispered into your ear.

“Do it, baby, make a mess in my backseat.”

You found yourself moaned and cumming around his cock, Dean didn’t follow too far behind. Dean pulled out, quickly realizing his mistake as his cum started to seep out of you, almost landing on his leather seats. He quickly moves his flannel to under you, watching as his cum gushed out, spilling onto his flannel. Dean smirked at this, looking up at your panting form, he leaned down and kissed you, pulling back after a moment. He gave you a satisfied smile.

“I love late nights with my girls.”

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

I’ve been waiting for you, to slip back in bed

worst!logan x reader

summary: Logan couldn’t protect you in his universe, and now he’s still haunted by the missing piece in his arms.

Tags: ANGST ANGST ANGST, kinda fluffy? Mentions of death? Mentions of sex, people being naked, Logan being cutesy, nightmares, me being a hopeless CAS fan 😭

A/n: this literally came to me on a whim, so if it’s still like rough? Please do forgive me. Not proofread AT ALL. wrote in like an hour and was like “I NEED TO POST IT ASAP” PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LISTEN YO ‘k’ by cigarettes after sex while reading this 🙏🙏🙏

Random taglist: @pedroscurls @karencaribou @xenith-eats-stars @coocoocachewgotscrewed @crappy-writings

He could still recall that day so vividly—the moment he knew, beyond doubt, that he loved you. The moment his mind screamed for him to marry you, until the thought consumed him entirely, and he did. In his universe, you were everything. The only thing he needed.

Under the soft glow of dim lights, you sat across from Logan in the small, cozy diner. He’d wanted to sit beside you—close enough to feel your warmth—but the booth was too cramped. The leather seats groaned with every movement, while the air hung thick with the scent of greasy burgers and sugary shakes. Across the table, he reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together as you absentmindedly sipped from your milkshake. His gaze softened, unfamiliar and tender.

You squirmed under his eyes, the intensity stirring something deep inside you. He could tell—you were already flushed with heat, your mind wandering back to the hours before.

The memory of your bodies tangled in his sheets came rushing back: your head resting on his bare chest, the mattress still carrying the scent of passion. Your legs entwined, the remnants of desire still palpable as sleep tugged you under.

His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, and the soft rhythm of it soothed a deeper restlessness in you, something bubbling just beneath the surface, something familiar and unspoken.

Later that night, as you rested against him again, he pulled you even closer—though it seemed impossible, with how closely you were already pressed against his chest. His lips brushed your forehead as he murmured into your hairline, words barely louder than a breath.

"So sweet to me, bub. Do you even know what you do to me? Hmm?"

You were lost in sleep, your breathing deep and even, the rise and fall of your chest steady against his own. He thought you were far gone, deep in slumber.

But when the words slipped out—"Love you so much"—your eyes shot open, bright like a Christmas tree.

He froze, momentarily stunned as you gave him a sleepy, radiant smile. Even in the darkness of the room, you seemed to glow, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the window, the energy between you palpable.

"Really? Say it again," you whispered, eyes wide with excitement.

Logan chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest, pulling you closer still. His fingers gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before he leaned in, kissing you softly.

"I—" his lips grazed your cheek,

"Love—" a kiss on your temple,

"You."

Each word punctuated by a kiss, a tender rhythm as he worshipped every inch of your face. You giggled, the sound light and sweet, as you whispered it back to him. The words flowed between you like a secret, a promise. And that night, you showed each other over and over just how much you meant them.

For days to come, every night, he would pull you into his arms, hold you close until sleep overtook you both.

But the energy between you never dimmed. Whether in a quiet diner, the softness of his bed, or the way you moved together through the world—it felt like you were always in sync, like the two of you were caught in an unspoken dance. His hand would brush against yours as you walked side by side, and you'd give him that knowing smile, the one that said you understood exactly what he was feeling.

Even in silence, your bodies spoke, each touch, each glance a step in that intimate dance. It was there in the sway of your hips as you moved around the kitchen while he watched you with a lazy smile, captivated by the way you effortlessly drew him in without a word. It was in the way your head would rest against his shoulder, his fingers grazing the small of your back, as if leading you through some invisible waltz. No music, no steps. Just you, moving together, as though time itself bent to the rhythm you created.

And in those moments, Logan felt weightless—like you were pulling him out of the heaviness of the world, guiding him into something lighter, something beyond the noise. It wasn’t always about words. Sometimes it was simply about being close, finding the rhythm of each other's presence. The quiet sway of your bodies, the electric spark between your fingers—there was nothing more profound than that.

But as time passed, the once-bright moon in your universe was swallowed by dark, looming clouds. And then they came.

Logan took a deep breath, long and steady, as he lifted his body off the cold, hard surface beneath him. His eyes shot open, reality crashing back.

He wasn’t there anymore.

And you weren’t here.

He lay still, his breathing shallow, as he tried to shake the remnants of the dream. It was always the same. The warmth of your skin, the rhythm you created together, the feeling of being weightless in your arms—gone. The dance you’d started, unfinished.

His mind lingered on the memory of how easily you'd once led him, as if no one else existed. Even now, he could feel the ghost of your presence, the way you’d press into him, guiding him with nothing more than a look or a touch. He could almost hear your voice, the way it used to make him feel alive, as if you were still moving with him, still leading him through the darkness. But the cold, empty room reminded him that you weren’t.

Still, somewhere deep inside, he felt it—like you were still there, just out of reach. The echo of your laugh, the phantom warmth of your body. And despite the silence, despite the emptiness, the rhythm continued. Even without you, he was still moving to it.

Wishing for you,

To come right back.

[m0nsterqzzz]

Happy Wife Happy Life

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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

summary: being Clarisse's "wife" will always have it's perks

a/n: honestly don't know how to feel about this but I'm tired. anyway, kinda hate the ending. and my writing lol.

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Love is the greatest thing.

At least, in your eyes it is.

It can bring the strongest people to their knees, risking their lives or others lives just so that they can keep their person happy. It's always been amazing to you.

Not so much in your best friend Clarisse's. She'd much rather have the glory of being the strongest kid in school, or be feared by your classmates. "Love is stupid." She always tells you while she watches you study under the willow tree she likes climbing.

"No, it's not. It's powerful. You like powerful things don't you?" You'd say back with an airy laugh, then forcing her to come back down from the branches so you can help her with her math homework.

She's heard lots about the emotion called jealousy, but she'd never truly felt it until she saw Holly Bracken kiss your cheek during recess one day. The tightening of the chest, the way her throat went dry and she clenched her fist by her side from the other end of the black top and tried to stop herself from throwing the basketball in her hands towards the blonde girl's head. It wasn't a feeling Clarisse liked, and the feeling only went away when you were laying in her arms under the tree after school that day.

That warm afternoon, she'd asked you to marry her with a paper ring, one that you cherished for a whole week until it got caught in something and broke. You'd obviously said yes, the fact that you had a huge crush on her not exactly helping as you forced yourself to remember she was obviously kidding. Sealing the marriage with I do and then placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand like she'd seen done in the romantic movies her mother likes watching, you were officially hers. As long as you were her wife, Holly Bracken could no longer kiss your cheek with that ugly smug smile.

She went on to make sure of that, introducing you as her wife to anyone and everyone that was willingly to listen. You two were young, and nobody took it quite seriously until she saved up almost a full year's allowance money to buy you a nice looking- but still cheap- promise ring from the jewelry store downtown. It was a silent promise, one that she eventually voiced as you were sleeping over at her house.

"I'll be with you forever." She'd whispered in your ear, and you foolishly believed her.

She was gone three weeks later.

You didn't get a phone call, an email, or even a letter. She just....disappeared.

Her family stopped answering the door for you, seemingly purposefully avoiding you in town. It was months before you finally gave up, and it was obvious to anyone that looked hard enough you were slowly becoming a shell of yourself without her. Without your girl.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The only thing in your life that is weirder than Clarisse's mysterious disappearance, was the fact that a boy just told you you're a child of one of the Greek gods. You couldn't believe him. You'd learned about the gods in school, but there was no fudging way they were real. You'd only finally agreed to go to some place called Camp Half Blood when he rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal furry goat legs. Nothing will ever be weirder than that.

Just in time too, because right after you left the school building and started sprinting towards the forest across from the place, some giant winged creature that no one else seemed to see crashed through a window and started flying towards you.

Your protector, someone you learned is a satyr named Joey, lead you to camp with minimal death, which you learned is very rare when it comes to leading a demi-god to camp. It didn't help with the newly installed fear inside you, but you just simply nodded along with what he was saying as your eyes scanned the crowds of campers that are doing their own thing below the hill you stand on.

The moment you step past what Joey calls Thalia's tree, all eyes are on you. A new camper means special events so they feel welcome which means more fun for the campers and the drama of figuring out who their godly parent is. 

You don’t have any belongings other than the clothes on your skin and the school pencil that’s brought you a strange sense of comfort on your long trip. A female camper with blonde hair and gray eyes comes up and introduces herself as Annabeth, helping you to the “Hermes” cabin to give you a camp t-shirt and new pants. She explains all the new campers go there, at least until they get claimed, which means the kids in there are either children of Hermes, unclaimed, or new just like you. 

Since everyone is gone doing daily activities, you decide to just change in the cabin. It’s peaceful, the sound of campers laughter, birds in the trees.

Your blissful silence is broken when someone tightly wraps their arms around you from behind you and lifts you up in the air with a squeal, your hands flying to cover your bra-covered chest. “What the hell?!” You scream, but the profanities you were going to yell out die down in your throat when the person sets you down and you turn around to see Clarisse.

She doesn’t look much different, her hair a little bit grown out and her band t-shirts and jeans have been replaced by camouflage pants and an orange camp half blood shirt similar to the one you’re trying to put on. You’re so starstruck that you just stare, her arms still loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand there in only a bra and jeans. “Clar?” She nods, grinning brightly as she pulls you into yet another hug.

You’re much more aware this time, pushing her away harshly as you hurry to put on the shirt and then leave the cabin with a quick roll of your eyes. The curly haired girl is hot on your tail, attempting to grab your wrist to stop you before you pull it away as if she’s burned you. Her face is full of hurt, but your voice shows the same amount as you ask, “Why didn’t….why didn’t you call? Or email? Or-or send me a fucking letter? Just to let me know you were okay? That you came here.”

She sighs, eyes full of regret as they fall to look at her doc martens so she doesn’t have to see your sadness. “I couldn’t call you because a phone call is like sending a message out to any monsters that could be listening and find out where we are. Email, I don’t have any electronics cuz of the whole call thing.”

“And letter? I bet monsters don’t know how to read Clar.” The girl is silent for a minute, and as the silence continues is when you realize she doesn’t have an answer for you. You scoff, beginning to walk to who knows where again before she runs to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was scared. Gods, I was scared.” The worlds tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and the campers around you fall silent as they stare with mouths agape in shock.

“Scared? What’s there to be scared of? It’s just me.” She nods, wordlessly reaching out to hold your hand. You let her this time and she feels relief flood through her. “Scared. I was scared….scared that you would hate me for leaving. I mean, what kind of woman leaves her wife?” She attempts a small laugh, and she takes it as a win that the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in the start of a smile. “I promised you forever and then left without another word. You had been looking at me through rose colored glasses our entire lives, I was scared those glasses were shattered. It’s not an excuse though. I should’ve sent you a letter, told you I was okay and told you how much I missed you.”

A small smile works its way onto your face, but she can still see the sadness in your eyes and she hates it. She hates it when you're sad. “Come here angel.” The girl hesitantly pulls you into her arms, almost crying when you relax into her hold and hug her back before she remembers where you guys are and how many campers are staring in shock at how sweet she’s acting.

“You have to understand that I’m still mad Clar. Even if you were scared, I spent years living in fear you were dead.” You mumble against her shoulder as you grip onto her like she’s going to disappear again if you let go.

The girl nods in agreement, cradling your head to her chest as she glares at the campers in an attempt to get them to leave you two alone. They do it.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse brings you to her cabin, cuddling with you in her bed as she tells you anything and everything that has happened over the past. She’s a child of Ares, and you spend several minutes that it makes sense after the amount of times she threatened other kids by saying she should hang them from the top of the flagpole. 

By dinner time, it’s like no time has passed, and everyone’s eyes are on you as you two walk in with her arm casually placed on your around the back of your waist as she leads you to her table where her siblings are trying not to make fun of her. After a lot of begging and threats, Chiron agreed to let you sit at the Ares table for your first week at camp. “Hey guys.” Her happy tone is a rare one around her by the look on their faces, the smile even rarer as she sits you down next to her spot on the bench. “This is my wife.”

The whole room goes silent, all eyes trained on you as your eyes dart up to stare at her. “What are you-” She cuts you off with amusement dancing in her brown eyes.

“What do you want to eat, honey?” Clarisse asks you, and a son of Ares you know as Mark scoffs before he says, “The last time I asked you to get me food, you poured your drink in my lap and told me it wasn’t your job.”

The smile falls from your friend's face as she glares at him. “That’s because it isn’t my job.”

“Then why are you getting her food?” 

“Because a happy wife equals a happy life alright? Now shut the fuck up.”

The smile is back as she turns to face you again, taking your order before she leaves to get that and her own food. 

The rest of the campers go back to their meals, though they’re clearly gossiping about Clarisse’s supposed wife as they eat. It doesn’t make you feel very happy, but all the doubt is gone as your girl comes back and sits down next to you, setting the food down before her hand falls to hold your hand under the table the way she used to during lunch at school.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A little bit later, you finish eating and join in the group of campers leaving the dining hall towards the campfire with Clarisse walking beside you. “My legs hurt.” You mumble while leaning closer to her. She doesn’t miss a beat as she picks you up bridal style, casually carrying you to the bonfire like you weigh absolutely nothing. Smiling at the sound of your laughter, she sets you down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. “What was that for? I could’ve walked.” You say as she sits down next to you before pulling you into her lap.

“What kind of wife would I be if I let you walk around while in pain?” She grins before leaning her head on your shoulder. She seems happy, and you recently learned she hasn’t felt that way in a very long time so you simply smile before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers lace with yours, her thumb caressing the back of your hand as she talks to her brother. It’s like no time has passed. Although you’re still upset, it’s nice to have her again.

Clarisse makes you guys some smores, a few people coming up every once and a while to introduce themselves and your friend introduces you the same way every time; “This is my wife.” By the time you’re making your way to the Hermes cabin with her walking by your side like a bodyguard, everyone in camp is aware of the “marriage”.

“I wish you could come stay in the Ares cabin.” She mumbles into the crook of your neck on the porch of Hermes cabin, and you chuckle while rubbing circles on her back. “I think you annoyed Chiron enough for one day.”

The daughter of Ares sighs, reluctantly nodding as she gives you a gentle squeeze before walking away. You watch her walk to her cabin for a few seconds, a permanent smile on your face before you walk inside your crowded cabin.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The next morning, it’s time for you to join in the routine of chores and training. It seems tiring, but Clarisse is by your side to help you with anything and everything so it’s okay.

“You’re getting better, hon.” She repeats for the 100th time in an hour, and your trust in her words is slowly fading as you sling the sword in your hands awkwardly towards the dummy covered in greek armor in front of you. The girl seems to notice your mood dropping, so she sighs and then stands up and walks towards you. You think she’s going to tell you to take the armor off just stop trying, but you shouldn't have. Clarisse was never one to tell you to give up on something. Instead, she places her hands on your hips, brown eyes straying from your face as she gently moves your body until you're standing in the correct way. You feel like clay under her grip, simply allowing her to position you as your face scans her features. 

It’s like something pulling you to lean in, and it’s only when you're inches away from her face do you realize she is leaning in too. As if realizing where you are and what you guys are doing, she clears her throat and backs away, her hands following to rest at her sides. “There. Try again.” She begins to awkwardly walk away, her confidence gone as she almost trips over some armor left on the floor by another camper.

You nervously laugh, taking a deep breath before you slash the sword forward again. The sword feels much more natural in your hand, and it’s almost like an instinct as you angle it so it hits the unprotected parts so it cuts open the material. 

Your friend cheers, rushing over to you and easily lifting you off the ground like you just won the olympics. Clarisse has always been that way, proud of every thing  you could ever do. With a small laugh, you thank her and finally get her to set you down. “Well done wifey.” The words flow out of Clarisse’s mouth like they’re the most natural thing, and you fake an annoyed sigh.

“You know I’m not your wife right?” You say with a laugh, but she clearly doesn’t find it very funny.

“Then what's this?” Her hand moves to grab your hand, holding it up in front of your face and you try to ignore the way butterflies explode in your stomach from the touch as her eyes lock on yours. With rose colored cheeks- you decide to blame it on the heat and not the feeling of her hand in yours- you finally take notice of what she’s talking about; the ring she bought you when you were kids, snuggly placed on your left hand ring finger. It was a bit too big when you guys were younger, but it fits basically perfectly now.

“It’s a promise ring.” You mumble, walking away to take off the armor and put away the sword. “It’s the closest thing to a wedding ring I could get. And besides, red is my favorite color, the jem is red. It’s basically me, in a ring.” “I didn’t understand a single thing you just said.”

Clarisse sighs, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind the same way she did your first day at camp- though this time she doesn’t lift you up. “Sorry. Let me summarize. You’re my wife, and that is your ring.” You chuckle, turning around in her arms and trying not to think about the way you’re so close you can feel her warm breath on your face. “Fine. I’m your wife.” She takes the win, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before she makes her way out of the training grounds to go wash up for lunch.

This girl is gonna be the death of you.

 -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, Clarisse sneaks into the Hermes cabin. She’s used to sneaking out, but she’s never had a reason to sneak into this specific cabin and she almost bursts out laughing when she gets through the window and almost steps on a kid laying on a sleeping bag on the floor. 

She easily manages her way through the sleeping kids to get to your bunk in the corner, cringing every once and a while when floor boards creek. You’re awake, staring at the wall and you reach under your pillow to grab a dagger Annabeth gave you when someone puts a hand on your shoulder and tries to shake you away so you can hold it up against their neck.

“Why the hell do you have a knife to my throat?” Clarisse quietly squeaks out, and you sigh in relief before putting the weapon back under your pillow for safe keeping. “I just…I’m sorry.” You think about telling her about the nightmare you were having not even ten minutes ago, but it looks like she’s already aware of it as she sends you knowing eyes.

“You can make it up to me by following me.” One look into her pleading eyes is all you need to reluctantly agree, and she helps you out of the window and then onto her back so she can carry you to the surprise she set up in the forest.

The sight makes you want to grin and cry at the same time; it’s a picnic set on the cliff overlooking the waterfall you told her was your favorite part of camp, all your favorite foods from the outside world placed accordingly on the blanket. There are little lanterns placed all over, lighting up this specific part of the woods. You can clearly see the stars, one of your favorite things, and the cozy feeling of the date-like setting goes against the summer breeze of the night.

“So? What do you think?” Clarisse nervously asks as you look around in awe. “I….I love it Clar.” You reply, pulling her into a tight hug. “How’d you get all these foods?” You quest with a grin. She innocently shrugs, but she’s got a mischievous look in her eyes that only appears when she does something bad. She won’t tell you that she snuck out of camp the same way she snuck out of her cabin to go to the mortal world, sneaking back in a throwing herself into a bush when Mr. D almost caught her.

She sits down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her and then pulling you into her lap when you sit down. “This is so nice….but why?” “Why?” “Why’d you do it?”

Clarisse chuckles; “Because my wife deserves best.” There it is again, the phrase that brings a blush to your face no matter how many times you hear it. “Well, thank you.” She nods, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and taking a hesitant bite before humming in satisfaction. “That’s really good.”

You two spend the rest of the night talking and giggling as you cuddle up to her and eat the delicious foods, and by the end of the night you’re lying with your head in her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair. “One day,” She starts, leaning down to kiss your forehead before she continues speaking; “I’m gonna marry you for real.”

With a small laugh, you nod, staring into her brown eyes as you sigh. “I’m okay with that.” You whisper, and for a second it seems like she’s leaning down again. It’s proven she is when her lips connect with yours. Her lips are slightly chapped since she always forgets to put on chapstick before she leaves the cabin, but that doesn’t matter as she’s kissing you like she’s been starved for years. Technically, she has been.

She pulls away, watching with a nervous smile as you attempt to catch your breath and stare up at her in awe. “Was that-was that okay?” You slowly nod, sitting up and then turning to face her before you grab her face in your hands and kiss her once again. She seems surprised, but she quickly adapts as her hands move to your hips and firmly grip them.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you agreed to be my wife.” She whispers as she pulls away and leans her forehead on your own. You giggle, giving her a quick kiss in between love sick giggles. “Me too.”

She begins to talk again, but the sound of hooves galloping near and a loud voice calling out, “Who's there?!” makes her panic. Chiron. You panic as well, and you both messily pick up the empty plates and blanket, shoving it all in the basket and taking your hand in the one that isn't holding the basket.

The galloping is getting closer, and you both begin to run back into the forest- on the way back to camp but still in the opposite direction of Chiron.

You both begin to laugh as you almost trip over a branch, and you have to bite your lip and hold a hand over Clarrise's mouth so Chiron won't hear. 

You eventually make it back to the cabins, and you both slow down to a light jog as you near the Hermes cabin. She brings you back to the still open window, and helps lift you up into the slightly cold room. You take off your shoes, and are about to wish her a goodnight and go to bed when you turn around to see her lips playfully puckered. 

You chuckle, walking back to the window and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Goodnight Clar. and thank you for a wonderful night.” She smiles. “It was only wonderful because you were there. Goodnight angel.” With that, she leaves towards her own cabin, and you're left staring at her leave with a love sick smile and look in your eyes.

At the edge of the forest, Chiron watches the sweet goodnight with a small smile. “Well I'll be damned….Clarisse La Rue is a softy.” He begins walking to his own cabin with a content sigh. “But they better not sneak out again.”

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

[yok00k]

telepatía

pairing: idol!jk x model!oc

genre: fluff!

“a kilómetros estamos conectando”

—synopsis: when you’re getting ready for a party and jungkook, who’s thousands kilometers away from you, wants to video call.

word count: 1,082

warning: ldr, they’re disguisingly so cute, the word “baby” was said for about 1 million times it’s sickening, different timezones, oc dress in front of jk, mention of insomnia, anxiety, stress, mention of an uncomfy situation of oc where other men were being men, protective jk (this jk is not a manipulator, trust), 1st person pov(im so sorry)

author’s note: my second drabble/fluff!!! this was shorter than I wanted it to be but there will be few (idk how many, it depends to the future me) series of idol!jk x model!oc. <the meaning of ‘mahal ko’ means ‘my love’ in filipino>

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Taking a cold shower after having an intense leg day plus cardio at the gym hits so different. I feel like a brand new person after getting out of my bathroom. I then settle down in front of my vanity table and begin doing my skin care + makeup. As I finished a smooth base of foundation, my phone vibrated.

2 messages received from

mahal ko🐰🤍

|| hey baby

|| can we facetime plz? wanna see u

[10:33 pm]

his text was unanticipated at this hour since it’s 5 am in Korea.

me

|| sure bb

[10:34 pm]

mahal ko wants to facetime

drop everything i have with my hands, i swiftly hit the green button, eagerly to see and hear his voice. we’re mostly texting these days because of having different time zones and working schedules to follow. Oftentimes when he’s free and wants to facetime me, I would be either at work or sleeping and vice versa.

“hi pretty!!” he cheerfully greeted me as my phone screen revealed his cute sleepy face. As usual, he’s wearing one of the eight Supreme beanies i got for him when I was in Tokyo. [side story: i was just strolling in the streets of Harajuku when i found this one clothing store that has a lot of stuffs i know jungkook would like and that’s when i bought those comfy beanies along with other nice things]^_^

“helloo, my ggukie can't sleep?” i asked while finding something i can lean my phone on so that i can continue doing my makeup

“응.. i'm trying to sleep but can’t.“ he simply explained as he placed his phone on the side of his bed, moving his naked body to a more comfortable lying position. His arm filled with cool, artistic tattoos is out and on sight, while his other arm were covered with the thick white comforter, so as his entire body.

“What's been going on in your mind?” I know that something is bothering him at times like this. i get that having the job and lifestyle he has, isn’t merely easy. the pressure, the media, the fans, everything. But although he deals with all these things, I never once heard him complain about them because he knows that that’s what he signed up for the day he chose to pursue being an idol.

“Just been stressed lately with rehearsals and I'm still jet lagged, maybe I have insomnia? ‘m not sure but it’s driving me crazy. now i get what u mean when u say ur body is tired and ready to sleep but ur mind isn’t.” he further describes how he feels. The worry and anxiety is written in his facial expression.

“my poor kookie you could’ve call me earlier and i would help you to fall asleep”

“but you were at the gym. i know you like blasting reggaeton music while working out.” he pouty responds. well, in his defense he’s right. I love that he remembers small details about me but nothing can top my love for him.

“i do that but I prefer listening to my boyfriend’s angelic voice while working out so that i’ll have motivation to do more reps.” replied to him right off the bat. realistically i meant what i said. I usually don’t like talking to people when doing workouts but he is an exception.

I received no words but a soft laugh. He must have thought I was kidding. I took a glance at him before I put lipgloss on[his favorite shade].

i can see him covering the blush he has all over his face. i'm very glad to see him having relief.

‘’Where is my pretty girl up to? hmm?” he curiously asks as i put highlights as my last step to finish up the look

“just going to the club for Sakura’s birthday party, i'm running out of social energy almost every day because of work and parties but I can't miss this event” I explained as I headed over to my walk-in closet.

“hmm ‘kay tell her i said happy birthday. what are you gonna wear?”

“well i'm debating on wearing a black leather mini skirt with this asymmetrical black top and for shoes i have this black knee high boots or i just go with this simple black mini backless dress with these red bottoms high heels” i say as i show him all the clothes. he and I almost have the same taste in fashion. if we were to combine all of our clothes, they are pretty much all black. whenever it’s shoes, jackets, tops, pants, etc. this is why buying clothes for one another isn’t difficult for us.

“What did I tell you about mini skirts bb?” oh. i forgot that he allows me to wear mini skirts unless i’m with him since an incident happened when i was in the club and random guys were making me so uncomfortable by giving disguising lust looks and nastily commenting on my skirts. Although he and I know that no matter what a girl wears, guys in the clubs will act like animals regardless. He told me to not wear it because he’s controlling me but rather because he won’t be there to protect me if something happens.

“ok then the second choice it is” i confirmed, putting the first outfit choice back to where they belong.

“how about you wear that mini skirt when we go on a date? how’s that sound?” he suggests.

“ok then ggukie”

“dress in front of me?” he boyishly asks, using his deep alluring voice. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How can I say no to him?

After dressing, I proceeded to put on the Cartier necklace with his initials in it that he gifted to me when he first came to visit my penthouse in Chicago.

“still have my oversized leather jacket with you?” he inquire before he yawned

“yupp, why?” I curiously asked

“bring it with you please. i don’t want you getting cold in there” he softly requested. him and his simple gestures make me fall in love with him deeper.

“i will baby thank you”

“i love you ___, don’t look at other men” jk murmur jokingly. Well, I hope he said that in a humorous way for the reason that I assure him with my sincere words almost every hour.

“ I love you more gguk i’ll update you ok?” he just hums, waving his hands leisurely to say goodbye.

[marksbear2]

Hii Mark!! I know this is an random request but I’ve been reading your other fics on your other account and I really love your marvel fics!

So I would like to request a Peter Strahm k x P⭐️ Or camboy Male reader.!! Just for you to know you don’t have to do it!! And make a small story with it, it doesn’t have to have any plot.

PETER STRAHM X CAMBOY READER

I’m trying hard to finish up some of the old request in my inbox 😭. It’s been a while since I wrote for a horror movie character but since I can’t see Peter as an bottom I made reader bottom. I’m a lil rusty for bottom reader 🙏

⚠️Warnings! Camboy reader- pure smutt no plot, rough Peter, live sex, vibrator, post orgasm torture, people watching (live) overstimulation, orgasm anal. Humiliation kink and etc ⚠️

“Come on baby you can take it right? This is supposed to be your job so do it fucking right.” 

The deep voiced belonged to Peter. Peter had his boyfriend in between his legs laying his chest against your back. You felt like you were going to explode. At the start of you guy’s relationship he was unsure and annoyed at the fact that your a camboy. Tried to persuade you to dozens of times to quit and gives you a list of better jobs.

Now here he is on your bed humiliating and dirty talking to you live. He was being harsh like his regular self, but he has this extra boost knowing that he’s doing this to you in front of hundreds of strangers and fans watching from their screens.

Peter’s large hand jerking off your wet and cummy cock. You lost track of time, all you knew that he was having a hell of a time overstimulating you. Your cock was aching and legs were slowly trembling. Not only his hand was jerking off your cock at an really fast pace, you already came so many times already and on top of all that you have a vibrator inside you so all the pleasure was overwhelming.

“Keep your eyes open, baby… your fans are watching.” Peter used his free hand to grab your jaw and made you look at the camera and on the side of the camera it’s the monitor. Peter’s face was out of frame but the audience could see his hands and hear his voice.

“p-please— ngh~…I—I ca-can’t take it.” You moaned out but Peter didn’t slow down his pace or even make an attempt to stop. 

“Keep your legs open.” You heard his command you could focus on him. The pleasure was euphoria. You felt your jaw getting squeezed as he pressed his mouth to your ear.

“Open. Your. Goddamn. Legs.” You instantly obeyed once you heard the tone of his voice. You opened your legs showing off the cock in between your legs and showing the vibrator you had inside showing it to the camera. 

“I— I’m gonna cum!~ st-stop… I’m cu—“ You we’re cut off by his hand leaving your dick. 

You gave him a confused look, but he just had his cold and stern look. “Get in your knees, baby.” You quickly do as told and get onto your knees now your face to the camera rather then your ass. You felt his hand touch and pushed the vibrator deeper inside your walls causing you to let out a moan.

Peter unzipped his pants and threw his belt to the side of the room before pulling out his cock and began to jerk himself off listening to your moans and broken words. Peter spat into his hand and began to jerk off his cock faster too get himself wet. You looked up at the camera looking at yourself in the monitor. Your body was sweaty and looked a mess but very erotic.

Peter slowly pulled the vibrator out and your hole was gaping and exposed. Peter used his free hand using two fingers to spread his hole as Peter pressed his tip inside. Peter slightly grunted as he put his hand on the back of your head pressing your face down onto the bed. Though you just had the vibrator inside, nothing compared to the real thing.

You arched your back as he felt your hair getting tugged back, without warning Peter slammed his full cock inside you. From surprise and pleasure white strokes of cum shot through your cock. You let out heavy and loud moans as he fucks you merciless. He didn’t even pause or stop to wait for you be done orgasming he kept thrusting.  

His cock drove deeper and faster fucking, your mouth hanged open. “Your gonna take this cock and my cum until that fucking cameras die do you understand?” Peter asked tugging on your hair making you nod your head yes. 

You couldn’t even form a right response. You felt like you were getting spilt in half. You were panting like some damn dog, he was completely destroying you. 

You could see the live comments rolling in faster and faster. You couldn’t even imagine what those strangers and fans are typing out. Peter’s cock brushed and moved against your prostate causing you to moan and almost scream. 

Trembling and overstimulated your body wanted to curl up and quiver, but with Peter’s deep cock moving and thrusting inside of you with no sign of being close or being tired.

You thought to yourself. “This is gonna be a long stream.”

THE END

[innocent-artery]

hi! if your requests are open could you do anything for patrick verona? like anything lol ill take it

So requests are actually not open right now, but given that this was sent in when they were I saved it for Kinktober. I hope you like it!

Kinktober 31st: I Knew You'd Come Around

aka hate sex with Patrick Verona

1k words

Summary: Hate sex with Patrick Verona. That's it.

Pairing: Patrick Verona x fem!reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to enemies to lovers, a spotify playlist by me!

~

You hated yourself for doing this, you really did. You hated the butterflies in your stomach for fluttering when he grabbed your ass, hated your hands for tugging him closer by the collar of his, hated your heart for racing at the feeling of his tongue on yours.

That was the general emotion when you were around him. Hate. Hate and frustration and annoyance and pure, fiery arousal.

The last one is the most prevalent as you're pressed up against a bedroom wall, the bass of the song playing outside reverberating on your back. Patrick's hands are all over you, groping and tracing every inch of skin he could find.

"Fucking idiot," you huff in between wet smacks of your lips, yanking at his shirt collar, trying to signal him to take it off.

"Y'know," he starts, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, "for someone who proclaims to hate me so much, you sure are hell-bent on getting me naked."

"They're not mutually exclusive concepts, dumbass." Your words seem frail, and your voice trails off at the end as his fingers tug at the belt loops of your pants.

"Ooh, big words." He purrs, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you doing that thing where you try to sound smart so that I don't notice that you're full of shit?"

"I am not- oh..." Any biting remark you may have had ready died on your tongue as his fingers slipped under your pants and stroked your covered lips, building a dull, throbbing ache between your legs.

"Aw, not so talkative now, are you?" Patrick placed open-mouthed kisses over your neck, nipping gently every so often. "If I'd known this was all it took to shut you up, I would've done this sooner."

With a gasp, your hand snakes up to his hair, fingers curling when the pads of his fingers linger over your covered clit, roaming a little before finding the rhythm that made your head fall back with a thump.

"Atta girl, keep making those pretty noises." He hummed, using his other hand to pop open the buttons of your pants and tug them down to your knees.

Well, naturally, you just had to do the opposite of whatever he told you. So you clamped your mouth shut. But by then your vocal cords had developed a mind of their own, so your hums and sighs were still crystal clear in his ears.

Patrick pulls back for a moment to look at you, eyes darting all over your stony face. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes.

"Shoulda seen that coming. But we'll get you talking."

And you should have known he wasn't all talk. Before you have the chance to scoff at his remark, his hand dips under the waistband of your underwear to trace along your lips, skin to skin contact.

You could feel your cheeks turn hot as he watched you, eyes wide with awe and amusement. "'S such a mess down there, pretty. Little ol' me did that?"

He knew you weren't going to admit it, so he didn't wait for a response. He got all he needed when he saw you react, saw you keen when his fingertips dragged over your clit, resuming the rhythm that set fire in your belly.

"Aw, it's okay," he purrs, tonguing over your collarbone. "Y'don't have to say it. Y'know why? 'Cause this pretty pussy says it all for me, doesn't she?"

That makes your pussy clench, and you know he can feel it. An airy chuckle tells you he definitely can. "Thought so. Can feel her asking for it, begging for me."

You can't help the surprised moan that is ripped from your throat when he sinks a finger in, curling at just the right spot to have your nails digging into his shoulders. Your legs are already weak, and stray hairs are already pasted to your forehead by sweat.

"Fucking hate you," you sigh, but when you're rolling your hips up into his hand it doesn't hold much venom.

"Can't hear you, sweet cheeks, might need to speak up."

"I hate you."

"What's that?''

"I hate you." You can feel pleasure boiling in your gut, seconds away from boiling over.

"One more time," he purrs, pressing his palm up into your clit.

"I hate you! Patrick!" You grasp onto his shoulders as pleasure comes over you in waves, spreading through every vein into your fingertips until you're panting through a blissful afterglow.

"There we go." Patrick wipes a hair that fell over your mouth away, grinning. "Knew you'd come around."

You roll your eyes as Patrick pats your cheek and then leaves towards the ensuite bathroom. The air is suddenly cold against you, and a strange feeling swoops in your gut when his figure disappears from your sight. But he comes back a moment later with a wet rag to hand to you, and the feeling lightens.

For the first time in all the time you've known each other, a thick silence permeated the room amongst the smell of sex. The sound of fabric rustling against skin and the bathroom sink running sounded louder against the tile.

Patrick was the first to speak. "I'm assuming you don't want to be seen together, so I won’t overstay my welcome. I’ll see you around." He didn’t meet your eye, murmuring into his shirt as he buckled his belt.

You didn't respond. You weren't sure why, and you weren't sure what the answer would have been if you had. But Patrick doesn't seem to take offense to it, instead stepping out of the bathroom. You watch through the mirror as he heads towards the bedroom door.

He stops in the doorway, hand on the doorknob. He's wearing his telltale grin and his hair whips with the movement as he looks back at you.

"If you ever feel like hating me again, give me a call."

.

[holylulusworld]

How deep is your love? - Flufftober 2

Title: How deep is your love?

Summary: Dean is in love.

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, romance

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by the lovely @elle14-blog1

Square filled for @jacklesversebingo: Square 13: Free Space

Square filled for @eclipsingbingo (expired): Square 9: Walking home together

Square filled for @julybreakbingo (expired): Square 15: Free Space

Square filled for @spnfluffbingo (expired): Square 25: Best friends to lovers

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 2: First date

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

“Wanted, dead or alive,” Dean sings along to the song you chose. He’s an awful singer, but you giggle and sing along. Because, let’s be honest, you’re a horrible singer yourself, and it’s fun. “I’m wanted…”

“Dead or alive,” you end Dean’s line. Sam groans in the back of the car. He’s pissed because he hates sitting in the back with his long legs. “That was an awesome jam session.”

Dean chuckles and looks at you like a lovesick puppy, making Sam roll his eyes. The only person not getting that Dean is head over heels in love with you seems to be you.

“How about some food?” Dean hopefully asks. “I could have some food. What about you, sweetheart?” He pats his tummy while looking at you. “Food, Y/N.”

“Food, alright,” you say while looking for a place to get Dean some food. If he needs food, he’ll get food. “What do you want? Burgers, pizza?”

He places his hand on your thigh, making you giggle as he leans closer to whisper in your ear. “Pie, sweetheart. Drive anywhere you want to as long there is pie for this man.”

“Pie. Got it,” you reply. “Navigate me in the right direction, Mr. Winchester. I’ll drive you to your pie.”

“Alright,” Dean grabs his phone to look for a diner nearby. “Hmm…the Sweden Cream?” Dean furrows his brows. “What kind of name for a diner is that?”

You snicker. “Sounds naughty. Let’s go there. Maybe they sell nice cream...”

“No—” Dean grunts and looks for another one. “Let’s see. Oh, that one sounds nice. The Cozy Inn Café.”

“Dean, we visited all of them already,” Sam huffs in the backseat. “Dude, did you forget we ate at that place not two months ago?”

“Shut up, bitch!” Dean snaps at his brother. “No one asked you.” He tries to hide that he wants to make you laugh about the diner's name.

You bob your head to the next song while listening to Dean fight with his brother. You giggle and snort when they start to call each other a bitch and jerk.

“Cozy Inn Café it is. I hope they have great pie,” you say to stop them from fighting even more. Poor Cas is sitting in the backseat too, and you don’t want the angel to get in between the fronts.

“I love me some pie,” Dean happily sighs and leans back in his seat. His hand is still on your thigh, but you don’t mind. You’ve always been very touchy when it came to your friend, and he was the same.

“I know, Deano!”

When you want to walk inside the diner, Dean opens the door for you, holding it open. Sam and Cas exchange a look before they decide to sit and wait if they finally realize what’s going on.

“Wait, let me pull the chair for you,” Dean hastily says. He pulls the chair for you, whispering your name. “What do you want, sweetheart? I pay.”

“Everything on the menu,” you tease, and shoot Dean with a finger gun. “If Dean Winchester pays, I’ll take everything.”

“You’re cruel,” he whines, but flashes you a smirk. “If you can eat it all, I’ll pay for it.” Dean challenges.

“Is that a challenge, Mr. Winchester?” You ask, grinning at Dean.

“Is that a yes?”

“Not today, Winchester,” you say, before you stick your tongue out. “Next time.”

“Alright,” he nods. “What do you want?”

“Surprise me!” You giggle when he pecks your cheek. “Dean, eek… You’re so scruffy.”

“You love it!” He walks toward the counter to order for you. Dean didn’t even ask what Sam or Cas wanted.

“You wish!”

“I know you love me!” He looks over his shoulder and grins. “I just know it.” He says a little quieter as he watches you bicker with his brother.

Dean returns to your table a few moments later. He sits next to you, thigh-brushing yours because he chose to sit as closely as possible to you.

While you place your hand on his bicep to squeeze it, making fun of his strength because he threw a ghoul through a wall last time, Dean longingly looks at you.

“Christ, get a room, you two!” Sam has enough. He throws his hands up and sighs. “It’s impossible to eat while you are all lovey-dovey.”

“What?” You quirk a brow while Dean stares at your lips.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean grunts. “I’m not getting a room.” Your face falls at Dean’s words. You got your hopes high, and now you’re disappointed Dean doesn’t feel the same. “Y/N is not some random guy. I’ll ask her out on a first date before we even kiss!”

“OH—” Your cheeks heat up, and an odd noise leaves your lips. “My, oh my,” you stammer. “Dean…” Before Dean can say a thing, you cup his face and press a soft kiss to his lips.

His eyes widen, but he kisses you back. “Dean…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean purrs against your lips. “Uh—would you give me the honor and let me walk you home?” He grins because you moved your hand to his thigh.

“Guys, we are like two hours away from the bunker. You can’t walk home,” Sam points out, but Dean shushes his brother.

“Yes,” you peck his lips again. “We can walk home together.”

“Let me handle this,” Cas says. Before you and Dean can protest, he touches you and zaps you out of the diner. You end up in Dean’s bedroom, confused and a little dizzy. “You’re welcome. Sam and I will drive Baby home.”

...and then Cas is gone, and you and Dean are alone, in his bedroom.

“Well, technically we already had our first date at the diner,” you whisper against Dean’s lips. “How about we enjoy the fact that Sammy and Cas aren’t around?”

“Hmm… I didn’t get my pie. How about I eat something sweeter tonight?”

Tags in reblog.

[worldlxvlys]

PLEASE write a fic of sub chris and the reader edges him until he’s crying & begging

beg

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nsfw (don’t read if not comfortable), literally no plot just straight smut, 69, squirting, p in v, sub! chris

a/n: sub. chris. 😵‍💫

also yeah it’s just straight smut, like it just goes straight into it lmao, hope ya like <333

“fuckkkk” chris moaned as he pounded up into my pussy. “gonna cum, baby” he whispered into my ear.

“wait.” i told him, wanting to cum with him.

he gasped, “fuck, can’t hold it baby. please please let me cum” his dick started to twitch.

“no, chris. be a good boy and wait”

“b-baby, baby, i can’t, i ca- FUCKK” he yelled out, cutting himself off as he shot his load into me. i raised myself off of him immediately.

“now you don’t want to listen?” i ask as i turn myself around, back facing him.

his eyebrows furrow, “i’m sorry baby, felt so good”

i place my legs on either side of him and stick up my ass, my pussy right in front of his face.

“eat me out like the little slut you are” without a word, he shoved his face in my pussy, licking up and down.

“mmmm nice to know you can follow instructions” i said as i leaned forward, taking his dick in my mouth.

“oh my- mmmmm” he moaned into my pussy.

“ughhhhhhhh” we continued to moan into each other, adding to each other’s pleasure with each new vibration.

his hips jolt upwards, pushing himself deeper into my mouth.

he pulled his head away from me, throwing it backwards in pleasure “holy fucking- FUCK, so gooddddd”

i take my mouth off of him “did i tell you to fucking stop?”

“sorry, sorry baby. so good” he said as he focused on my clit this time, sucking and groaning into it.

i continued to bob my head on his cock quickly, feeling his veins as my tongue ran across them.

he added a finger into me while sucking on my clit. he let out a particularly long moan, sending me over the edge.

“mmmm fuckkkk, chris i’m cumming, i’m cumming” he continued to finger me through my high.

once i finished, i took him in my mouth again and hollowed my cheeks.

“jeez, ma” he moaned. his hands grabbed my ass, caressing it as i continued to suck him off.

his hips started to shake, as his cock twitched. “g-gonna cum, baby” right before he was able to finish, i took my mouth off of him.

“hmmmmmm” he whined. “why’d you stop?” i turned around to face him.

“well you just had to come so bad the first time, right? hope it was worth it, cause you won’t be doing that again tonight”

his eyes widened, “wait, what?”

“you heard me. gotta teach you some god damn self control”

“ok, but wait-“

“you know your safeword?” i asked.

his mouth hung open, nodding his head.

“good.”

i grabbed his dick, making him yell out “SHIT” as his hips jerked forward.

i began to pump him quickly, making him start to whine “hmmmmmmmmmmmm fuck fuck fuck”

his breathing became heavy and his eyes squeezed shut. “yes yes yes”

i continue to stroke his sensitive cock, building up his pleasure.

once he’s almost at the edge, i stop.

“no no no no, please please” he whines.

“aww baby, wanna cum?” i ask, looking down at him. he nods his head rapidly, seeming to gain hope.

“too fucking bad” i said. “maybe next time you’ll listen when i tell you to wait”.

i sat on his lap, right below his dick.

i took him in my hand, squeezing the tip. “f-fuck” i watched as he shuddered.

i rubbed his dick between my folds, but didn’t put it in.

“shit baby, ughhhh” he whined as i continued to rub him on me.

“yes baby, feel so fucking good against me” i moaned.

i rubbed my fingers against his tip, continuing to move him against me.

“mgh- ughhhhhhhhh” he continued to whine and groan.

i watched as his ab muscles began to tighten, and he started to twitch, indicating his oncoming orgasm.

i quickly let go of him, rubbing myself with my fingers instead.

“don’t even think about fucking touching yourself” i said. he whined in response.

“pleaseeeee please, baby”

i ignored his pleas, watching him breathe heavily and attempt to contain himself.

“shit chris” i said as i rubbed my clit, increasing my speed.

he groaned in response.

his hands started to rub my thighs, “can i touch you? please, ma?”

“go ahead, baby” with lightening speed, he thrusted his finger in me.

“FUCK, CHRIS! OH MY GOSH” i screamed, his speed taking me by surprise.

between the stimulation to my clit and his fingers practically vibrating in me, i was in a state of pure bliss. my juices shot out of me, directly onto chris’s cock.

“hmph- fuckkkkk, baby” if i didn’t know any better i would’ve thought he came untouched with the way he whimpered.

i grabbed the tip of his dick, making him cry out. i focused just on the tip, as i moved the palm of my hand around it in circular motions.

“s-shit, fuck, fuck, fuckkkk” “pl-hmmmmm- please, please, please” he continued to whine, his hips bucking up uncontrollably.

his ab muscles began to clench again, his legs shaking.

he tried to close his legs, overwhelmed by the sensitivity.

i moved my hands away, using them to hold his legs open, and leaned forward. i placed my tongue on his tip, just licking once every few seconds. i continued to tease him, not giving him what he wanted.

“fuck, baby, you can’t- ngh- pleaseeeee please please please” tears started to stream from his eyes, as i used the sensitivity of his tip to my advantage.

“baby, please” his voice cracked. his hair was drenched in sweat, his face red and tear-stained. i then hovered over him before sinking down onto his cock. “let’s try this again.”

“holy-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence as his mouth hung open.

i leaned back, holding onto his thighs as i rolled my hips into his.

“ohhhhh” he groaned.

“make me cum and i’ll think about letting you” i said to him, continuing my movements. as soon as those words left my mouth, he began to push his hips up into mine.

“yes yes yes chris, fuckkkkk” i yelled out.

“mmmmmmm ohhhhhhh” he began to whine again, already so close to finishing. “i swear to god, chris you’re not coming until i do”

with that he wrapped his hands around my waist and fucked up into me like his life depended on it.

“shit! yesss, chris! oh my GOD! fuck, just like that”

he whimpered as more tears began to stream down his eyes.

“i-we-jus-y-fe-s-ti-ughhhhhh” he wasn’t even forming comprehensible words as he continued to pound into me, squeezing his arms around me.

he then took one of my boobs in his mouth, licking and sucking feverishly.

“mmmmm so good, chris. feels so fucking good”

his legs start shaking and twitching as he holds his orgasm back. his shaking creates even more friction, sending me over the edge. “fuckkk, chris! i’m cumming”

his pace never lets up, helping me ride through my high.

“you wanna cum? fucking beg.” he didn’t waste a second.

“pleaseeee, please, please let me cum baby. please, fuck, need it so so bad. need it, please.” the tears kept flowing, as he continued to twitch.

“go ahead, baby. let go” when he released, his hips jerked up, giving a thrust so deep i swear i felt him in my stomach.

we both screamed out, it taking us both by surprise as he fucked his cum into me. the thick strings of cum continued to flow out of him, as he twitched and whimpered.

once he finished, his body continued to be ravished by aftershocks, making him jolt every few seconds.

“see? was that so hard?” i asked.

“yes.” i pinched his nipple.

“FUCK, ok sorry!”

———————

happy new year loves <333

starting the year off with sub!chris is the only correct answer

hope y’all enjoy :)

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @sosmatt @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[rositaslabyrinth]

Castiel “Castles crumbling”

Castiel x fem!reader

Helping cas recover after losing his grace

Words ; 943

The warehouse was unnervingly quiet now, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The metallic scent of blood and the acrid tang of smoke clung to the air, a suffocating reminder of the fight that had just ended.

Your legs carried you forward on instinct, the weight of everything that had just happened settling on your chest. Dean and Sam were a few steps behind, speaking in hushed tones about their next move, but their words faded into background noise as your eyes locked on Castiel.

He was slumped against the cold, concrete wall, his trench coat hanging off his shoulders like it was too heavy for him to bear. His head was tilted back, his eyes half-closed, and for the first time, he looked truly, utterly defeated.

It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was something deeper, something that made your throat tighten and your heart twist painfully in your chest.

You dropped to your knees beside him, hesitating only for a moment before reaching out. “Cas?”

His eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice, but they didn’t hold the piercing light you were used to. They were dull now, almost lifeless. He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head faintly. “You shouldn’t…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You shouldn’t waste your time on me.”

“Don’t say that,” you said quickly, your hand hovering over his arm, unsure if he would pull away. “You’re hurt. Let me help you.”

He let out a dry, bitter laugh that didn’t sound like him at all. “Help me? You can’t help what’s already broken.”

“Cas—”

“I’m nothing now,” he interrupted, his tone sharper, more biting. His gaze shifted away from you, fixing somewhere in the distance. “My grace is gone. I’ve fallen. I was an angel of the Lord, and now I’m…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Now you’re human,” you finished for him, your voice soft.

His head turned sharply, and for a moment, his expression was one of disbelief—maybe even anger. “Human,” he echoed bitterly. “Do you have any idea what that means? I’ve lost everything. My purpose, my power, my… everything I was. My foes and friends alike have seen me fall.” His voice cracked, and he looked away again, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know how it could’ve ended this way.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you struggled to keep your voice steady as you reached for him again. This time, you didn’t hesitate. You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Listen to me,” you said firmly, your thumbs brushing over the rough stubble on his cheeks. “You are not nothing, Castiel. Do you hear me? You’re still you. You’re the one who saved me, who saved Dean and Sam, who saved the world more times than I can count. You’ve fought for humanity, for people you didn’t even know, and for what? To tell me now that you’re nothing? I won’t let you say that.”

His blue eyes, so dull and lifeless moments ago, searched yours now, and you saw the cracks in the wall he was trying so desperately to keep up. “I’ve failed,” he whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve only ever caused pain. To Heaven. To you.”

“You haven’t failed,” you said, your voice trembling as you leaned closer. “You’ve done more good than you’ll ever know. And you’re not alone. Do you hear me? You’ll never be alone.”

His hands came up hesitantly, resting over yours as if grounding himself in your touch. “I don’t know how to be this,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to be… human.”

“You don’t have to figure it out on your own,” you said, leaning your forehead against his. “You have me. You have Dean and Sam. You have us, Cas. And we’re not going anywhere.”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond, the weight of your words hanging in the space between you. Then, slowly, he leaned into you, his hands tightening slightly over yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured, the words so quiet you almost didn’t hear them.

Your breath hitched as his gaze dropped to your lips, the air between you shifting. There was a hesitation in his expression, a question he didn’t voice aloud. But when he leaned in, the kiss was soft, tentative, as if he were afraid you might break under his touch.

You kissed him back, your fingers threading through his hair, pouring everything you couldn’t say into that moment—your admiration, your affection, your love.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time since Metatron had stolen his grace, there was a faint light in his eyes.

“Uh, hate to interrupt your little moment,” Dean’s voice cut through the quiet, making you jump, “but we gotta get moving. This place isn’t exactly safe.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t move far from Castiel. His hand found yours, and when you glanced at him, his expression was soft but steady.

Dean raised a brow but didn’t comment further, leading the way out with Sam close behind.

As the four of you left the warehouse, Castiel’s hand remained in yours, his grip firm and grounding. He might have lost his grace, his power, and the castle he’d once built, but as you walked beside him, you silently vowed to help him rebuild—brick by brick, piece by piece.

And this time, he wouldn’t have to do it alone.