#or maybe just write a fic on it or something
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wheneverfeasible · 3 days ago
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My inbox is ALWAYS open. And maybe this is shameless self-promotion, but I also have a Steddie specific community on here too if you want something a little more group oriented while also not feeling quite like you’re just mindlessly screaming into the void. It IS 18+ only so no minors!
Not only that, but I’m also part of a new community specific for Steddie fanfic ideas, such as if you have an idea you don’t want to write yourself or a fic you don’t have time to devote to anymore, looking for something new to write, or even just have questions or looking for inspiration in fics you’re currently working on! Open to all ages!
reblog if your inbox is always open for new members of the fandom who may be a little shy or intimidated. doesn’t matter whether or not you’re a “popular blog”; everyone here is equal and if you’re reading this as a new person/someone considering entering the fandom, we will not turn you away!!!! talk to us!! make friends!! i more than understand being shy but trust me this fandom is chill come join us in this hellhole
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Please could you write more Caitlyn (arcane) x Reader?!? Omg I loved that fic, but Idk if you still wrote for arcane
Social Events
|| Caitlyn Kiramman x fem!reader
|| Warnings; smut, swearing, drunk sex, top Caitlyn & bottom reader, reader receiving, breast play, fingering, praise kink, orgasm, finger sucking, good girl use
|| Summary; when reader and Caitlyn meet at a social event, things get heated pretty quickly. With the help of a few drinks.
Requests closed!
Started; November 11th
Finished; November 11th
~~~
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Social events. They were never really your favourite, but you had to represent your family. Being the eldest daughter and all. For the wealthy, it was pretty common for them to have gatherings and socials. Just keeping up to date in each other's business. Because the upper classes of Piltover didn't know how to stay out of each other's shit. You tried your best to keep to yourself, occasionally engaging in conversation when someone would approach you. Or the rare time you found someone interesting enough to talk to.
There was one girl whose eyes you kept meeting. Every time you did, she would send you a smile. God, she was stunning. You couldn't keep your eyes away from her. It wasn't often you found someone interesting enough to just stare at them. Like some weirdo. But you couldn't help it with this girl. You thought you recognized her, Cassandra Kiramman's daughter maybe? That was your guess. Though you weren't 100% sure.
Well, no time like the present. You decided to walk over and try and start conversation. Maybe flirt a bit if you were lucky. "Hey, Cassandra's daughter, right?" You asked, silently praying you weren't wrong in your assumption. Otherwise that would make this incredibly awkward.
The girl nodded," It's Caitlyn. But, yes." Caitlyn held her hand out to you and you gave it a gentle shake. The smile never leaving your lips when you heard her talk. Damn, that accent was going to be the absolute death of you.
"Y/N L/N." You introduced yourself go her and Caitlyn raised a curious eyebrow. You were part of the L/N Household? She's heard many things about your family. Your family was more wealthy than her own, it would've been nearly impossible to have not heard your name before.
"Is that so?" Caitlyn looks at you with new found interest. Before, when your eyes kept meeting hers she thought she'd recognized you. Somewhere, somehow but she couldn't put her finger on it. Now Caitlyn knew why. She's always been rather found of you from a distance, your morals were something she could agree with. That was getting rare in Piltover. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise." You replied. After that, conversation between you and her flowed easily. As did the drinks. And before you knew it, Caitlyn was pulling you away from the social event. Not that you had any complaints, of course.
Caitlyn got you to her room, where she then closed the door before pushing you up against it. You grunted as you felt the wood suddenly behind you. Smirking as you met her eyes once more. Caitlyn looked into your own for a brief moment, before her lips were on yours. Hand cupping your cheek and bringing you impossibly closer. You kissed back with ease, as though you'd kissed her a million times before.
When her lips left yours, she bit your bottom lip. Getting a small sound of you. Your hand then intertwined with hers and Caitlyn pulled you over to her bed. Pushing you into the sheets as she got on top of you. Your hands went to her hips, pulling her down until she straddled you. Caitlyn laid herself across your body. Kissing at your neck as she worked to get your top off. You tilted your head to the side, giving her more access to your neck. She placed one hickie, then another before pulling your top over your head.
Caitlyn took a moment to just admire your breasts. Then her lips latched the nipple, sucking and rolling it between her teeth. With every suck, a moan left your lips. Your back arched into her touch as her hand slid down your stomach slowly. Brushing against your abdomen with her thumb while her hand moved aside the rim of your pants. Slipping through and past your underwear. Your breath hitched as you felt her graze your clit, smirking against your skin. Caitlyn let go of your breast with a pop, a small gasp leaving your lips.
"F-fuck-" You muttered when her fingers applied gentle pressure to your clit. Rubbing and rolling it between her fingers in a soft massage. Your head fell back against her pillows and all you could do was moan when she pushed a finger in you.
She certainly didn't go easy on you. The moment Caitlyn knew you'd adjusted, she added in a couple more fingers. Pumping relentlessly until your stomach twisted in knots. Your moans got louder, back arching further into her touch. Trying to get more. Fuck, more.
"You're doing so good," Caitlyn whispered, but loud enough for you to hear her over your moans. Your leg twitched and flicked, nearly kicking her. Your grip on the sheets tightened. She just laughed at that and held your leg down. "Shh, just relax your body."
That was it. The extra touch on you. You were already sensitive as it was with how hard she was fingering you. You cummed on her fingers, practically screaming out.
"Ah- Caitlyn- fuck!" You screamed her name as she helped you through your high. When you finished, she slowly pulled her fingers out and into your mouth. You happily sucked them, looking into her eyes as she gave you an encouraging nod.
"Good girl." She murmured. Fuck, you hoped that wasn't the end of it.
Thankfully, it seemed to only be the beginning.
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ramp-it-up · 3 days ago
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All I Know It Feels So Damn Good
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Summary: James Bucky Barnes was an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Bucky gives you anything you want. Anything.
Word count: 2.5 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes After ...As Hard As I Did but BEFORE Dessert or Disaster, but it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is porn with some plot. GNO tipsy texting returns, Dom/sub elements, phone sex, talk of raw p in v, description of sex with condom, Bucky being fluffy while filthy, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation kink, talk of face slapping, talk of finger f*cking, talk of oral sex, praise kink, breeding kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Actual raw p in v, lactation kink if you squint, nipple worship if you squint, belly bulge, non-existent refractory period. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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It was your first Girl’s Night Out as Bucky’s girl. You’d texted him tipsy messages all night, teasing him with your selfies and requests of the same from him.
Your flirty banter was all fun and games until your received a terse, ‘Call me when you get home’ voice memo. 
You don’t know why six little words got you all worked up, but there was a delicious feeling of anticipation in your stomach until you settled into bed after you showered and dialed Bucky. 
For the short time you’d been intimate, you’d sensed that he was holding back something darker, more forceful and to think of it didn’t scare you.
It only served to get you so incredibly hot. Something inside you wanted to push his buttons.
Maybe it was that, and not the champagne, that impelled you to text him what you had earlier.
Bucky was on his couch, staring at the Manhattan skyline and waiting for your call. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Frumoasă. Did you have fun tonight?”
His question seemed innocuous enough. Bucky listened as you recounted the drama and escapades of the night with your girls. 
You asked him how his evening with Steve and Sam was and he replied shortly, “Fine. Until I got distracted.”
Then he got to the point.
“Now. Let’s talk about the text you sent me earlier. Run that back for me? What is it that you want to do while I do what to you now?”
The way he slid into confronting you was savage. You weren’t expecting it and now you didn’t want to say it out loud.
Had you crossed the line, you wondered?
Your silence made Bucky smile. He knew he had you flustered, having learned your tells already. You were about to be in the mood he wanted you in; he just needed to push a little further.
“Cat got that talented tongue, baby? Tell me what you said. Or are you only a whore over texts?”
The coldness in Bucky’s tone made you whimper. And wet.
“James…”
Bucky’s cock swelled. He was ten seconds from jumping into his car and showing up at your door. Instead of that, Bucky decided to be patient.
But clear.
“Tell me.”
“I said…I said that I wanted to suck your fingers while you fuck me raw.”
Bucky grunted to cover his moan. You being his shy little slut was so hot.
“Hmmmm. What made my sweet girl think such whore thoughts? Was it the picture that you requested and I sent?”
You shuddered as you ran your fingertips along your belly, playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your nipples were stiff peaks, poking through your thin sleep shirt, which was one of his white tees. 
The fine cotton fabric felt so good against your skin and his scent lingered on the surface. These sensations, along with the knowledge that the shirt, and you, belonged to Bucky sent your fingers further.
“Thank you for the picture, Daddy.”
Bucky clenched his jaw at the moniker. He couldn’t deny you a thing. Even when he was out to dinner with his boys, he would send you a bathroom selfie if you asked. He hadn’t expected the response, however.
You’d only been together for a couple of weeks, and he’d religiously used protection, even after you’d both gotten tested the week after you got together. Despite your clean bills of health, Bucky never pushed to not use protection. He didn’t try to change your mind, he was just happy to be in the room.
In fact, Bucky loved using condoms with you. 
The way you rolled it on him always made him about to bust. The sight of your small fingers on him when you both were past the point of desperation drove him insane with romantic thoughts.
Your tiny hands rolling the rubber on him made him feel like you were his queen and he your knight. And he would vanquish any foe for you. His holy grail was your precious pussy, and if you wanted to use condoms, he was your humble servant. 
But of course, he dreamed of fucking you raw. How could he not with the way your juicy pussy sucked his digits in when he fucked you with his fingers, and the warm wet feel of you when his tongue penetrated your core?
You’d discussed birth control and you had additional methods, but when he snuck a peek of the ring in his closet, he allowed himself to fantasize about making you pregnant.The images got him so hard and yet he restrained himself.
But now that you opened the door, he could let his fantasies run wild. And dare to hope.
“Tell me more, Frumoasă.”
“Well… your fingers in the picture got me hot. You look so fucking Daddy, your eyes, your hair, which I love a little longer by the way, the grey in your beard. Those lips. But those fingers holding that ratty ass phone…”
You giggled until Bucky spoke again.
“As long as I can talk to you and get those kinds of messages, I don’t need a new one. But do go on…”
You melted at his sentiment. How did you get a man that was so open with his feelings?
“Those fingers, mmmm, they are magic. Make me wanna be a slut for for them, for you, James.”
You heard Bucky moving on his end of the line. You guessed at what he was doing.
“What are you doing, Jamie? Are you touching your cock?”
You bit your finger as you listen to him moving.
“Do you know that I daydream about that beautiful dick of yours?”
A groan was all that you received in response.
“Ever have a goal, James? Sucking your cock is mine. It’s so big. Love to get on my knees and swallow you down. Makes me feel accomplished. Ya know?”
“Holy shit, Y/N…”
“I want to feel it without a condom. I- I just think it will feel so good. Don’t you?”
As he thought of what you would feel like as he sank into you, skin to skin, a shiver ran up his spine.
“You know that I give you anything you ask for. Your soft, wet pussy would feel so warm and so good wrapped around me, Y/N. Are you sure you want that?”
You felt an enormous sense of power, and you had a feeling that Bucky was letting you have your way. For now. You took full advantage.
“You know that vein that runs around your shaft  to the tip?”
Bucky was tracing that very vein with his fingers.
“You mean the one that you love to rub those sweet lips on? The one that your wicked tongue traces to my fat head for your sweet little mouth to suck?”
You gasped at Bucky’s lewd language. You were soaking your panties and you moved to take them off. This conversation was the shit.
“Is that what you want to get on your knees for? To try to make me your slave to your slutty mouth?”
“Yes, Daddy just thinking about it makes me wanna cum.”
Bucky’s ears perked up at your breathless voice. He knew that you were touching yourself.
“Oh yeah?”
“Ummmhmmm.”
“Cum for me now, Frumoasă.”
You moaned and rubbed furious circles around your clit. Your arousal was evident in the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs
“Is that my wet pussy I hear, Baby? How did that happen? Are you that much of a slut?” 
“Th-thinking about you, Daddy. Always a slut for you,” you keened in response.
“What exactly are you thinking about me? Fă ce spun eu frumos.”
You caught Bucky’s tone, and also the hitch in his voice. He was as close as you were.
“Yes, Daddy. ‘M thinking about your fingers inside me. Your cock. How big it is. The way you handle me. The way you talk to me. How you make me feel nasty and angelic all at the same damn time.” 
“Good girl. Now. Make sure that you fuck your fingers into that sweet cunt.”
You moaned as you obeyed. 
 “Oh. Fuck!” 
“There’s my good little whore. I should slap your fucking face for being so dirty. ” 
You gasped, then thrilled.
“Ooooohhhh, Daddy!” 
You were breathless and Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest. You liked degradation. Really liked it. He took note.
“‘M so wet for you, Jamie.”
“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you won’t be able to run from my cock when I fuck all of your fucking holes raw. Gonna leave my cum dripping out of everywhere.” 
You gasped, fingers flying over your clit. 
“Daddy…”
“But what if you get pregnant?”
You cried out. 
“Godamn it, Frumoasă. That belly swollen because I fucked my cum into you. Full of my… fuck… full of my baby. Those tits gushing milk every time I fuck you…”
“Oh yes. Make me a Mommy!”
“You’ll be mine, Frumoasă. In every single way imaginable.” 
“Oh oh oooooooooh!”
Your pussy spasmed under your fingers as his words pushed you over the edge.
“Don’t fucking stop rubbing that clit until I say so.”
He was so mean. You squeezed your thighs around your wrist, but did as he said.
“NNnnnghhh, Daddy… please!”
You continued stroking your oversensitive clit until you heard your name through the fog.
“Take your hand away..”
You gladly obeyed, gasping in order to take in oxygen. Your head was spinning and there was a giant smile on your face. 
“Holy shit. That was…”
Bucky’s low chuckle made you giggle. You heard movement over the phone.
“What’re you doing?”
“Made a mess all over my shirt. Taking it off.”
Your pussy pulsed again at what he said.
“You can’t say things like that when I’m still pounding, Daddy…” you whimpered.
“Poor Y/N, can’t handle the things she starts.”
You laughed and then stopped abruptly.
“You better be glad that you’re not here right now. I’d knock you the fuck out.”
“Big talk. Little girl.”
“Try me, Mr. Barnes.”
He couldn’t resist you and he couldn’t stay away. So he gave up trying.
“Brat. Be there in 30 minutes. Be ready to put your money where your mouth is. I’d like to see you live up to your threat, Baby.”
“Oh I’m ready, James. Leave the condoms at home.”
—-
45 minutes later, Bucky was sinking into your wet heat, eyes rolling back into his head. He was inside in one long stroke, burying himself in your wetness with a fair amount of stretch.  He was huge. But he’d made you so wet.
You quivered around him, sensitive to every twitch of his dick, and he wasn’t even moving yet.
“Who do you belong to, Frumoasă?” 
“You,” you moaned, not even hesitating. 
Bucky flexed his hips, opening you with controlled thrusts. Almost immediately, you were close. His fingers covered your throat, cradling your jaw, and a thumb pushed between your lips. You sucked it eagerly as he lifted one ankle next to your ear.
Blucky’s searing eyes met yours. His black pupils took over the blue as he took in your open mouth and fucked out expression. 
He pulled you up to kiss you on the lips.
“God, you feel like heaven. So unbelievably hot and silky. And soft.”
You clenched around him at his words of praise. You were spiraling at how hard and good and electric every ridge and vein on Bucky’s cock felt inside you. He filled you up so good and now you were addicted.
It wasn’t fair. 
You pouted at him, then put your hand on the bulge he was creating in your belly.
“Feels so fucking good, Daddy. So good. So big.”
His mouth turned up into a half grin as he looked down and put his hand over yours.
“Gonna fucking fill you up.”
He started moving, slowly, gently at first, building to a crescendo the more you moaned and cried. He was hypnotized by your bouncing breasts and your tiny stiff mountain peaks. When his mouth closed over your tight, puckered nipple, you let out a scream. 
Bucky grabbed your ass and smacked it, causing you to clamp down immediately. He gazed at you, eyebrow raised at your reaction. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, but he stopped, grabbed your hair and made you look at him. He paused, balls deep inside you.
You breathed out his name.
“...James…”
Your desperation almost made him come on the spot, and you could feel him pounding inside you. The truth was, he needed a little break so this could last.
The way your pussy was sucking his dick was insane.
“D’you feel how soaked you are?” he crooned, gripping your windpipe again.
“You need this so badly, don’t you? Go on, Frumoasă. It’s not so hard. I know you want to beg me for it. You like being a little whore..” 
You sucked in a breath, remaining silent as you stared at him insolently. His grip tightened. 
“Say it. You love being my cumslut.”
His voice was on the edge of control. It was everything.
“Yes!” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, Pleaseee…”
Bucky started moving again and you realized how sensitive to him you were. You clutched the sheets as he lengthened his strokes.
 “Fuuuuuck,” you gasped. 
Bucky leaned down to kiss you as your sweat combined with your slick and soaked both your bodies. His hips were moving relentlessly, his cock lighting up every nerve ending inside your tight channel. You squeezed him deliciously.
Bucky’s thumb was lighting up your clit and you were running headlong toward that cliff. He growled into your mouth as you tightened around him in a rush of pleasure.
As you neared your peak, your pussy pulsed erratically and you sparked around him like a firework. When you cried out, he spoke again, his hand around your throat with his thumb, (coated with the essence of you) inserted again into your mouth.
 “Look at you, baby,” he said, low and heated.
“You’re gonna cum so hard, and just the way I want you to. Around my naked cock. Gonna give you all this cum.”
He whispered it into your ear.
“Oh God, I’m cuming.” 
“You better hope none of my little soldiers make it past your birth control, little girl.”
You shrieked around his digit, shuddering as one wave after another crashed over your body. Bucky’s cock jerked inside you and he choked on air.
“Oh Goddddd!”
Bucky’s low, deep moan made you shudder around him again as he sped up, unable to contain the feeling that rushed down his spine when you came. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck FUCKKKKKKKK!”
Bucky pounded you out as you came with him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing, as he kissed and licked your sweat filled neck. Then, he rolled off of you and put his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving beside you. 
You curled up next to him and practically purred as you traced his tattooed sleeve.
“Told you I’d knock you out old man. Too bad you have to go to work tomorrow. How are you ever gonna do it when you’re so worn out? I feel like this pussy was worth it tho.”
Bucky moved his arm and opened one eye at you, a scowl on his face. Then he smiled. The brat in you turned him the fuck on. He turned toward you and traced his fingers along your side, caressing your curves like a feather. His voice was the gentlest whisper.
“Wonder how you’re gonna work tomorrow when you can’t walk, Y/N?”
You felt his dick awaken and gasped as you looked down. Bucky slapped your ass as he stood up to go to the foot of the bed, stroking his cock.
“Turn the fuck over. I’ll show you an old man.”
“We’ll see who is gonna knock out who first tonight. Give me that fucking arch.”
You smiled as your face was pressed into the comforter.
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Reblog if you liked it! :)
Next part here.
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livelaughloveluffy · 2 days ago
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first kiss - roronoa zoro
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a/n: ahhhhhh!! this is a bit different from the usual fics that i write, so hopefully you guys enjoy it!! for whatever reason, zoro is just on the brain right now, but i'm certainly not complaining about that 😌 versions with the other boys are certainly in the works!!!
nothing but fluff here 💗
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-the first time his lips fell upon yours, was because he couldn't stand the way a certain blonde cook was looking at you. you could taste the jealousy on his lips, and even though you responded by kissing him back, it only spurred him to be more possessive, marking you as his.
-zoro kisses you like it's his main source of staying alive. it's greedy, lustful, and a bit rough. he'll bit your lower lip from time to time, his tongue pushes its way into your mouth, exploring. one of his hands gets tangled up into your hair, pulling your head closer to him. his other hand placed on your hip to make sure your body is flesh against his.
-with the swordsman's lips on yours, you can't help but be utterly consumed by him. you have forgotten what life was like when his lips weren't on yours, the only air you've suddenly ever known is the two you share, you are completely enveloped into him.
-while you may have doubted you relationship with zoro before the kiss, during and after there is not a shadow of a doubt in your mind about the way he feels about you. the yearning and eagerness in his lips is something that could never go unnoticed. and while sometimes words fail him, his kiss will never deny the fact that he is undeniably in love with you.
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a/n: am i writing fics instead of doing my labs? maybe...... should i be doing my labs instead? absolutely..... will i do my labs instead of writing more fics? probably not..... 😭😭😭
a/n: totally accidentally posted this on zoro's birthday, insanely good and lucky timing on my part 😌😌
a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!
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creamflix · 1 day ago
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toji fushiguro x female reader; heavy, heart-crushing angst, not a lot of comfort. reader is toji's second wife, megumi's step-mom. concept inspired by @/yunymphs nsfw fic, off your shoulders — masterlist here ☆
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marriage is supposed to be a blessing, a bond that seals two lives into one, a promise of belonging.
you’d always dreamed of it.
sharing every first moment with someone — the first kiss as newlyweds, the first lazy morning dance in the kitchen, the first time lying side by side, tangled in each other. you’d imagined a life full of firsts, a life that would feel like you’re writing a story together, each page a piece of both of you.
but with toji, the man you love and who loves you, it feels like stepping into the middle of a book already written.
he’s had his firsts, some so precious that traces of them linger like shadows in your home. and you try — god, you try — to let that be enough, to love him and his son, megumi, with all the warmth and devotion you can muster. yet some days, you feel like you’re just outside their world, looking in.
it’s in the everyday moments, these small interactions that remind you of everything they had before you came along. moments like this morning, when you’re up early making breakfast, hoping to surprise toji with something special. you’re chopping vegetables, humming softly to yourself, trying to imagine the look on his face when he comes in, maybe pulls you close and says you don’t have to go through the trouble. you’ve seen couples do that — little gestures to remind each other they’re together.
you want that, too.
but as you start to crack an egg into the pan, you hear megumi calling from down the hall. “dad, where are my soccer cleats?”
your heart clenches. before you can even move to help, toji’s already calling back, voice easy, like it’s a scene they’ve played out a hundred times. “try under the stairs, where your mom used to keep ‘em.”
his mom. megumi’s mom.
the woman who came before you, whose shoes you will never be able to fill.
the words hang in the air, chilling. you place the egg down and pause, the silence settling heavy on your shoulders. you don’t hate her, not in the slightest — you’ve only ever heard lovely things about her. if anything, you’re grateful to her for the habits, routines, the sense of belonging she built with them, for raising megumi to be as kind as he is.
but still, there’s a sting every time she’s mentioned, a reminder that no matter how much you love toji, a part of him will always belong to her.
maybe that’s normal, you tell yourself, shaking off the thought. you grab the spatula, focusing on the way the eggs sizzle in the pan, trying to calm the knot that’s forming in your stomach.
“i’m… making breakfast, by the way,” you call out, trying to keep your voice light. maybe this will be the moment toji notices, realizes you’re trying to make him smile in your own way.
“yeah, thanks, babe,” he says from the hall. he’s already moved on, ruffling megumi’s hair as they laugh about something you can’t quite hear.
right, you think, fighting the wave of hurt that sweeps over you.
maybe that’s just the way it is.
you stare down at the breakfast you prepared, feeling a pang of something deeper than you’d care to admit. you’re doing your best to fit in, to add to the life he’s built, but sometimes, it feels like nothing more than an afterthought. it’s silly, really — you know they care about you, know toji chose you because he loves you.
but love doesn’t always erase what came before.
and it’s not his fault that his past is so deeply woven into their present, into your present.
by the time they wander into the kitchen, you’ve already set out the plates, adding a smile to mask the ache twisting inside you. megumi gives you a small nod, a muttered “thanks,” while toji walks over, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “looks good,” he says with that lazy smirk, and you feel the flutter of warmth, the one that always ignites when he shows even the smallest affection. but it quickly fades as he moves back to his son, launching into an old joke that you don’t understand.
you sit down across from them, feeling the laughter spill around you, each chuckle a reminder of the bond they share. you know it’s unreasonable to feel left out; after all, you’ve only been a part of their lives for a fraction of the time.
and they are good to you. they include you in most things, make an effort to make you feel like part of the family.
but there are these subtle moments, these glances, these familiar gestures, that you can never quite touch.
you watch as toji reaches over, ruffling megumi’s hair, that same fond smile lighting his face. and it’s like watching them dance to a song you can’t hear. a piece of you aches to ask, where do i fit into this?
“you two are adorable,” you say, almost to yourself, hoping they hear the love in your voice despite the sadness resting there.
you can’t say the words that sit heavy in your chest, the longing to belong to them in a way that feels real and whole. instead, you keep your gaze on your plate, focusing on the small bite of eggs you’ve managed to lift to your lips, the only sound in your head the quiet plea that maybe one day, this feeling will pass.
maybe one day, watching them from afar will stop hurting so much.
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Hey girl! I absolutely love your work. The way you write Desi reader is phenomenal
I was hoping you could write a Lando fic where he and Reader go to a trampoline park for a date and he's live streaming. He sees that she's very sweaty from all the fun and he comments on it and she says "as if you could make me this sweaty, Norris" AND IT GETS CAUGHT ON CAMERA
If you're not comfortable with the last part maybe only the trampoline park date?
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Sweaty Opportunities ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
ᰔᩚ ln x reader 🧸ྀི
ᰔᩚ fluff + humour + smau 🧸ྀི
masterlist ☾☼
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date days were y/n's favourite, even more than date nights. of course, date nights had a different class of its own. with the wine, and the fine dining, and the pretty dresses and suits that always end up on the floor of the living room because they couldn't wait to make it to the bedroom. it was amazing, definitely.
but, y/n tended to enjoy the date days more. it contained of spending the entire day exploring, eating, and just being kids. they would be in far more comfortable clothes, and would walk around hand-in-hand everywhere. most of their date days were usually lando's ideas, and they were always something reckless and exhilarating. it always made lando's face a pretty red that y/n could never stop kissing.
this particular date, lando had told her that he was going to be making another landolog since it had been a long time. y/n had readily agreed, well aware of how much lando enjoyed making the landologs.
"babe, are you ready?" his voice called out from the living room.
"coming!" y/n replied, trying to get her anklet untangled from her sock so that it didn't break.
lando stood at the door of the room, with the camera in his hand, "chat, this happens every time! i tell her we need to leave at 12, she starts getting ready 12!"
"liar! i was ready to go before you!"
"apparently not, seeing that i've worn my shoes and everything, and you still only have on sock on," lando teased.
"my anklet got stuck again," y/n looked at him with the best puppy eyes she could.
lando sighed, always unable to resist her cute face, "fine, hold the camera,"
she smiled, making a funny face at the camera before she turned it around to record lando. the man had knelt on the floor, and was focused on getting her anklet untangled.
"he's such a nice boy, taking care of me. mumma approves of you too, na," y/n cooed at him.
lando smiled, shaking his head at her, knowing that she was making fun of him. he made a sound from the back of his throat, acknowledging that he heard her. y/n ran her fingers through his hair, talking in the camera how soft his hair was, and how she was envious of it.
"alright, done," lando said, as he stood up after untangling the anklet. he offered his hand to y/n, and she took it, standing up. lando pulled her close to his chest, the camera stuck between them.
y/n laughed, "lan! you're crushing the camera!"
lando pressed a kiss to her lips, and said, "well, they didn't need to see that anyway,"
the two grabbed their essentials, still bickering and bantering, laughing into the camera, as they left the apartment, and into the car.
the camera recorded the couple singing (read as: screaming) taylor swift songs on their way to lando's surprise date location.
"where are we going?" y/n asked.
"we're almost there, lovie. a little more patience."
"look who's talking about patience!" y/n turned towards the camera, and said, "this man has the least amount of patience i've ever seen, okay?"
"that's not true!"
"you almost burned down our home because you decided to set the oven at double the temperature because you thought it would cook quicker!"
"logically, it makes sense!"
"its a miracle we have a roof over our heads, lando!"
he laughed, a loud, shrieking kind of laugh. 
pulling into the parking lot, lando turned off the ignition, and quickly grabbed the camera to catch y/n’s face change from confusion, to understanding, to childlike excitement. he knew this was one of the few places y/n had always wanted to come to, and now, she would finally have the opportunity. 
“you got me to a trampoline park!” y/n shrieked. 
lando winced at the loud sound, but smiled nonetheless, “happy date day, baby!”
y/n wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s neck, the camera forgotten on his lap, as he hugged her back. “thank you, thank you, thank you!” she whispered. 
“i love you,” he whispered back. 
she kissed him, letting him know that she loved him too. 
getting out of the car, y/n jumped excitedly as lando laughed, holding the camera. seeing lando lock the car, y/n immediately began running towards the entrance. zooming on the camera to show just how far she had ran, lando said, “chat, she’s a little crazy, but i’m so head over heels for her,” 
following y/n inside, lando handed her the camera as she showed the place around and yapped. meanwhile, he paid for the tickets, and walked to where y/n was. she had been standing by the popcorn machine, talking to the camera like she was talking to another human. sneaking behind her, lando wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. y/n laughed, but let him walk towards the entrance of the trampoline park.
she set the camera down, angling it towards them, as the couple removed their shoes, and stored it in one of the cubicles. 
“so, how long are we here?” y/n asked. 
“well, it’s three hours of jumping and bouncing-” 
“that’s what she said,” 
“-and then we go out for lunch, and have cheesecake for dessert, and back home, where we can either sleep or do other things if we have more energy,” lando finished. 
y/n smacked his arm, “you better edit that out!” 
“you’re the one with the dirty mind! i just meant we could bake something or have a movie marathon!” 
“you’re lying, you liar!” lando laughed as he ran from y/n’s smack attack. 
grabbing the camera, he ran inside, immediately bouncing and gaining more speed than y/n. but, she wasn’t far behind. though, once she began jumping on the trampolines, her smack attack on lando was quickly forgotten. the couple went through every zone the park had to offer, playing trampoline basketball, jumping into a ball pit, and obstacle courses that were almost everywhere. 
y/n pushed lando often, laughing every time he fell and bounced back. lando returned the favour. they challenged each other to stupid things, like who could jump the highest. 
“it’s not fair! you’re taller than me! of course, you jumped higher than i did!” 
“that sounds like a you problem, lovie!” 
“bitch!”
or, they challenged each other to who could fall the farthest in the ball pit. 
“i totally won!” 
“no, you didn’t! you moved the balls from the sides, so now we don’t know!” 
“oh, quit crying just ‘cause you lost!” 
“you lost!” 
most of the challenges were unfair for y/n, given that lando only proposed the ones that would benefit him, and in her excitement, she wouldn’t realise it until after she lost. she did try to trick him and win, and that worked. lando said it didn’t count, but everyone knew who the boss was. 
“ready? three, two, one, go!” 
“ow, ow, ow, ow,” 
“lovie? you okay? what’s wrong?”
“i think i twisted my ankle,” 
“oh, baby, lemme see,” 
“ha! tricked you!” 
“wha-? hey! no fair!” 
“sorry, can’t hear you from the finish line!” 
their friendly competitions had resulted in red faces shining from sweat, and bright smiles. the day was exactly what they needed, and y/n had plans to show just how grateful she was to lando for planning such a date. they exchanged kisses, played with the other kids in the park, and tried to outdo one another. it made y/n fall more in love with lando. 
the camera facing towards them, lando watched as y/n jumped on a trampoline square behind him, spreading her arms and legs, making a star every time she was in the air. 
“you’re so sweaty,” lando commented as he looked at his girlfriend’s flushed face. 
y/n smirked, “it's because of the jumping around for three hours. as if you could ever make me so sweaty, norris,” 
his mouth fell open as he processed her retort. she laughed at his expression, and began jumping away. lando quickly grabbed her hand and said, “as if i could ever- come on, we’re going home,” 
“what? why? we still have lunch left!” 
“nope. i’m going to show you just how sweaty i can make you,” 
y/n laughed but followed. she wasn’t going to pass on an opportunity like this. she’d never.
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lando.jpg i CAN make her that sweaty
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hi! i tried to make this desi!reader, but i just didn't find a lot of places where i could incorporate that, so i tried my best to stick to a neutral, imagine-what-you-like character. i hope you enjoy this! i've also got a link for my taglist, prompt list, and all of that you can find here!
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rosesradio · 15 hours ago
Note
Hey, I've got questions about your stance against ai
In writing, ik you are against Ai "writing your fic"
But are there ways ai can be used in writing fics that you are okay with?
Like obviously saying "Hey chatgpt, write a (insert fandom) fic where (insert plot) happens" then just copy pasting it, is wrong
But what about getting ideas from ai? Like prompts, or titles (like i did with 1 fic) or having ai re-write like a sentence to make it sound better or other stuff
tbh i don’t think it’s good to use AI like that for anything related to the creation of art. the brain is a muscle, and in order to hone your skills, you need to step out of your comfort zone. i for one hate titling my fics, but i’d rather struggle & then come to the satisfaction of finding a title on my own than asking a bot to spit a title back at me. plus, i’ve titled over 50+ fics, so that skill is strengthened with repetition.
(plus i’m pretty sure chatgpt is regenerative, meaning that if you send it your fic to give a title to, it can use your work as data to write other people’s fics :/)
prompts are even worse tbh. fandom thrives from conversation. if you’re looking for something to write, explore certain tags and post in them, i promise a real person will have an idea you’re interested in, and maybe you can make a new friend in fandom by talking about that idea together.
also, using AI for rewriting is probably the worst thing you can do. again with strengthening the muscle of your mind and honing the skill. you need to reread your work, reach out to others & maybe get an editor/beta reader. you can and should find writing blogs written by real people, and read books to find writing that intrigues you. that’s crucial to the human experience.
of course, i don’t mean any offense when i say this. i can’t stop you. but i for one would never turn to something non-human to aid in something i consider very human & vulnerable, and i don’t think you should either.
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neptuneiris · 2 days ago
Text
could you pretend to be in love? (10/10)
The Realization
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: prom is coming and so is the end of a stage in your life. surprises and unexpected conversations take place, the question is, are you able to forgive in order to move on?
word count: 9.7k
previous part • series masterlist
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this is not a drill, it's really happening!
first of all, i want to apologize for having left this story aside without finishing it. it wasn't something i decided, the writer's block precisely in this fic made me not try anymore for a while, mostly to clear my mind and my ideas, because i had no idea what to write after chapter nine 💀
so I hope you really forgive me and enjoy the last chapter 🥺 it has been an honor to have given you this little fic, I really enjoyed writing it despite the little mental breakdowns I had haha
and just like my other stories, I keep it in my heart and it will always be here for whenever you want to reread (I will make sure to post it in AO3, don't worry) i'm also thinking of doing a poll about the epilogue where you guys will decide if you want one or prefer this ending. let me know after you finish reading the chapter 🤗
enjoy and I look forward to your comments!
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It still all feels like a bad dream that you can't wake up from. An unwanted dream. A nightmare.
And every time a new day comes, you feel like a human being who does everything in automatic mode, not because you really want to.
In front of your dad you must pretend that everything is fine, but as soon as you leave home and get to school, you feel a huge weight and a sadness that nothing and no one can take away from you.
You feel the stares of some people on you, if not all of them. But the truth is that you feel so emotionally drained that you don't even pay attention to them.
Many would say that not being accepted to a college doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Nor does it mean that your chances are over because there is still too much time to be able to do everything you want.
And you accept that they are right. All is not lost because you didn't get accepted.
When you were rejected the first time when you applied in conjunction with the scholarship, disillusionment sets in. There is disappointment in yourself for not being enough and there is this question that constantly floats in your mind; why others do and I don't? Why am I not worthy of the same fate as them?
Maybe it's age, but it's inevitable to feel that rejection and failure after having so many plans and having in mind the idea of making your dad proud by telling him that you've been accepted to college.
And not just any college, but Citadel.
But so far, you haven't had the courage to tell him instead that you won't go to any college. You just can't. You don't know what exactly you'll tell him and you don't want to face it yet. You don't want to see his disappointed face so you need more time.
So instead of dreams and aspirations, as well as preparing to live a college life, you prepare and focus on getting a job. You don't see employment as a bad thing either. You just wish you didn't have to focus on it right now.
You haven't talked to Aemond either. You haven't even seen him.
You're in some classes together. But you barely pay attention. Even though you used to notice his presence before and now, unconsciously, you ignore it. Now your mind is too busy with your worries.
It's like being in a disconnect. You are just there, existing. But you barely talk, barely react and barely do. You just want classes to end soon so you can go home.
Of course, he hasn't stopped trying.
He wants to talk to you, but you won't let him. You just don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Even though you feel that emptiness he has left, you immediately force yourself not to think about it.
It's like pain and confusion mixed together, but your pride and that same pain makes you prefer to stay away.
You don't even care anymore what people say about him and you. It's obvious that the two of you are no longer in a 'relationship'. No one knows what happened and neither one of you is clarifying anything.
Which you are grateful for, so as not to feed the topic in the whole school.
Meanwhile, Alysanne and Cregan are almost always around you, trying to cheer you up and make you endure school better. You couldn't be more grateful for both of them either.
"So what are your plans for the weekend?"
Alysanne asks as the three of you are sitting on a bench in the outside courtyard. On the bench where you and Aemond made the fake relationship contract, precisely. But you try not to focus on that as the three of you eat lunch.
"We're going to the movies, did you forget already?" asks Cregan, confused.
"Huh? This weekend?"
"You forgot," he assures her.
"I didn't forget!" she lies, nervous.
"We agreed to go on Saturday. To the ten o'clock function for the horror movie."
Oh yes, the two of them are dating. Just as you and Aemond have 'broken up', so you try not to feel more distressed about it.
"Do you want to come, Y/N?"
You raise your gaze to Alysanne, confused, who gives you a smile.
"It's a date, isn't it? Just the two of you."
"We'll have more dates," she makes a nonchalant gesture.
Poor Cregan.
"Besides, it would do you good to clear your head a bit. So, what better than going to the movies? Right, Cregan?"
"Yeah, it'll do you good," he nods.
"No, thank you," you say softly, "I don't want to interfere with your dates. Besides, I'm not in the mood to go out. I'd rather stay home."
"You're not going to interfere with anything. Besides, you've stayed home enough days," she reproaches you, "Come on. Even one night. We'll have a great time."
"If you don't want to go to the movies, we can go somewhere else," Cregan proposes.
You grimace slightly.
"No, thank you. I..." you sigh, "I really appreciate it, guys. But I'd rather stay home."
Staying home to look for a proper job and plan to tell your dad you won't be going to college, like you've been doing for the past few days.
"Are you sure?" Alysanne looks at you not entirely convinced.
"Yeah," you shrug, "Don't worry about me."
"Of course I worry about you."
"You should focus on your date," you say as you give Cregan a meaningful look.
"Totally," Cregan nods, "In fact, she'll plan the next date."
"What?" she looks at him in horror.
"What you heard."
"And why me?"
"Because I always do."
Your talk with them doesn't last long as soon the bell rings and they head off to their respective classes, except for you, who has a free hour.
So you stand on the bench alone, just looking outside and nothing else, enjoying your lunch unhurriedly and in peace and quiet.
You let out a long breath and distract yourself for a few moments in your social networks, watching as some people post their reactions from when they were accepted to colleges. Everyone screams, smiles and cries of happiness with their families.
Except for others who quietly show how they were not accepted. But they open more emails and get accepted to other colleges.
You wish you were part of them.
You close those apps and go to Tiktok to distract yourself for a while by watching funny videos or storytimes.
When suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching behind you, which catches your attention. You turn your head, peeking over your shoulder and then you see him, Aemond.
He stops as soon as your eyes look directly into his, as if you've caught him in the act of robbery. Which reveals how very cautious he was being to approach and not scare you.
You see the uncertainty in his gaze, the insecurity and the wariness all at the same time. Which is rare for him, as he doesn't allow himself to look so vulnerable. But you understand why he's this way with you.
First you think about getting up and leaving him with the word in his mouth, like you've been doing lately. But for some reason, it's like finally your mind resigns and your body will force you to stay where you're sitting. And you don't even know why.
Or maybe it's because he's begging you with his gaze not to leave and listen to what he has to say after so many weeks.
Inevitably your nerves invade you and neither he nor you say anything for a few long seconds. He just stands still, as if testing the waters, waiting to see if you will move away from him again attentively.
Then he swallows hard and watches you with a sad but hopeful expression.
“Can I come closer?”
You press your lips together, think about it for a few seconds and finally give him a barely visible nod.
You turn your gaze to the front and begin to put your tupper with food in your backpack. While at the same time Aemond approaches you, cautious but firm. And surprised that you are allowing him to do this.
You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your hair, nervous, not knowing why.
Then he steps in front of you and only at that moment, you realize he has a folder in his hand. A folder that he sets down on the table in front of you, with smooth, cautious movements.
“I just came to drop this off for you. Nothing else.”
You raise your gaze to look at it confused for a moment, then look back down at the folder in front of you.
“It's the paperwork you need to submit to finalize the scholarship process,” he says softly, “Classes start in two months and by now you should have received an email from the university with all the information as an incoming student.”
Wait, what?
Your mind immediately questions, as you frown more and feel your heart start to beat too fast.
“What are you talking about?” you ask in a low murmur, not understanding.
And Aemond lets out a long breath.
“I'm keeping my promise.”
His words echo steadily in your mind.
And you dare to raise your gaze to him again, confused, serious and incredulous. And what he does is lower his gaze, sorrowful and unsure. However… he is firm with what he is saying.
Then a tingle begins to run through your hands, at the same time as you feel the nervousness sweep through your body like a wave. You part your lips as you look at the folder in front of you and with trembling hands, you pick it up and open it.
The first thing you see is the university logo and an overwhelming sensation sweeps over your body and mind as you see what appears to be a letter addressed to you.
Miss. Y/N Y/L/N, Faculty of Law. Official documentation for the scholarship process.
You feel the air you were holding in your lungs slowly leave your mouth. And a huge weight that you felt in your chest is lifted, allowing you to rest and breathe properly.
At first, you think your mind is playing a joke on you. You think he's doing it. But… this is real. More real than you can imagine.
“I know I didn't do things the right way…
Aemond begins to speak, noticing the mix of shock and confusion in your gaze, breathing hard through your mouth.
“I know I took you for granted and that I hurt you,” he says softly, “But that was never my intention, Y/N. I-I… I thought I would get everything under control. That I would work it out and get everything done on time. But, it's just… I don't even have justification.”
You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. But you control yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to let his words make you break down in tears.
As if the fact that you have in front of you one of the papers confirming and assuring you that you will finally go to the college of your dreams isn't enough.
“I should have acted sooner and looked for solutions. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. And you don't know how sorry I am,” he says softly and vulnerably, his gaze lowered, ”I also don't expect you to forgive me for keeping a promise and asking for forgiveness. I know I fucked up and things can never go back to the way they were. But I just want you to know…” he takes a moment, "That I really did fall in love with you."
Fuck.
“What I felt for you was real. It was never a game or a pretense. I was just… afraid,” he admits, ”Afraid of fucking up what we had. Afraid it would all fall apart if I told you the truth. But… I ruined everything,” he says with a resigned tone, ”You don't have to talk to me again either if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you the truth and let you know how sorry I am.”
Each word echoes in your mind, with the weight of his regret and his sincerity. You feel the tremble in your body, not helping the fact that you are still staring at the college sheet addressed to your name.
And you hold back, trying to calm the chaos being unleashed inside you by his words.
When he doesn't say anything else, you certainly won't and you both fall silent for a moment, as the weight of his words and the meaning of them fill the space. Until he speaks again.
“I won't bother you anymore,” he moves forward a bit back to the way he came, “Best of luck at Citadel. You deserve it, you really do,” he tells you with a small smile that is sad but genuine at the same time.
Then his figure disappears from your field of vision and you hear him start to walk away. And at that moment, the world seems to stop for you.
Unable to help yourself, you turn your head and watch him walk away with tears in your eyes. There is something in his walk, in that slight slope of his shoulders, that screams the burden he carries. And you don't know why, but… you want to call him, to tell him something that will ease the knot you both feel.
However, you know that won't fix anything.
You feel the air leave you, his words still echoing in your mind. You stare at the folder again, trying to remember what this achievement meant to you before this moment, before he came and stirred all the emotions in you.
You try to be strong, you try not to let this affect you more than it should, you think of the positive. But you can't.
So still in disbelief, excitement, sadness and with all your emotions mixed up, you take your phone, unlock it and open your emails app. And there, your most recent email, you read: Citadel University.
With your hands shaking, you press the email and read in slightly larger letters: Welcome to Citadel University! Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Faculty of Law, Registration number: 31982.
Then, finally, you can't hold back the tears any longer and you put a hand to your mouth, letting them out, with confused and intense feelings coming over you.
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Your father's loving and proud words, hugs and kisses make you smile.
It took you four days to finally break the news to him. And seeing him so happy, excited and proud, made you finally stop feeling so bad for even a moment. You also broke the news to Alysanne and Cregan, who were very happy for you.
Neither of them mentioned Aemond, which you appreciated. But there is the clear acknowledgement to him for making this possible.
You obviously left the job search behind and instead started contacting the university. You sent the missing and necessary documents, they sent you information about the scholarship, your schedule, classes and also about your dorm.
It's like finally this void in your chest is being filled as you finally see this all happening. And as you look at the pictures of the university, with old, elegant and modern architecture at the same time, that excitement rises in you.
However, what you feel is not happiness in its entirety.
In fact, you feel in the middle of a crossroads; joy is mixed with sadness. And the satisfaction of fulfilling the dream feels incomplete.
The worst part is that you know why.
But you don't think about it too much either. You don't want to. On the contrary, you force yourself to repeat over and over again that this was the plan all along. You force yourself to enjoy it and get excited.
You force yourself to think that what happened outside of getting into the college of your dreams was for a reason, but in the end you got what you really wanted.
But, deep down inside, you think about how you wish things could have been different.
At the same time, prom is just around the corner.
At first, you thought about not attending, but of course, Alysanne wouldn't let you think about it anymore. She dragged you with her to the dress store and sentenced that it will be a date of three, her, Cregan and you.
You tried to persuade her, to make her understand that Cregan only wants her as his date. But, of course, Cregan as the great friend he also is, told you it would be fun.
Certainly neither he nor you nor Alysanne have ever been on a three-way date and he told you; what better than to try it at the prom?
The prom preparations are done. Now the important thing is to turn in final projects and get rid of all the pending with the professors.
And that's what you're doing now.
With your headphones on and a notebook along with a book on your table, you're about to finish a long, boring project. When you notice how a figure suddenly obscures your workspace and you raise your gaze almost instantly, curious.
Helaena.
You remove your headphones, surprised to see her as she smiles softly at you.
“Hi,” you say to her in a soft tone, putting your project aside for a moment.
“Hi,” she says to you in the same soft tone, ”I… am I interrupting you?”
“Oh no,” you say nonchalantly, “I mean, yes, but I'm just about to finish it anyway. Don't worry.”
She looks at you a little unsure.
“Are you sure? It's just… I don't know,“ she shrugs, 'It's been a while since we last talked and I didn't know if I could come up to you.”
Again you ignore the small sharp pain in your chest at the memory of Aemond and try to look like you're not at all affected by having his sister in front of you.
“Yeah, well…” you try to smile a little, ”Things have been… intense lately.”
She nods as she takes a seat across from you.
“So it's official?” she asks you with a sad tone as she watches you with a sad little smile, “Like, I mean… you and my brother aren't coming back together?”
This time, the sharp pain in your chest is stronger and more persistent. As well as her question hits you like a wave.
How can you tell her that, in reality, everything you and Aemond had was false? That it was all part of an agreement?
The guilt begins to consume you as you see her face full of expectations and the worst thing is that it's not something you should tell her. That should be Aemond. But, still, you feel the urge to cry and you feel the need to finally tell her the truth, for the sake of everyone who made you believe the fake relationship.
“Helaena…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, ”I-I… need to be honest with you.”
You take a breath, expecting the worst and imagining a series of difficult emotions to deal with.
“This whole thing between Aemond and I… it was fake,” you speak fearfully and sorrowfully, ”We were just… pretending for our own convenience. It wasn't…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment heavily, ”It wasn't real.”
You expected surprise, indignation, incredulity, anger, and more, all at the same time. But to your greatest surprise and bewilderment, she doesn't seem remotely surprised. Instead, she just smiles softly at you, full of understanding, as if she's been waiting for this moment for a long time.
“I already knew that,” she tells you in a serene tone that disarms you.
You feel your lungs hold all your air and you watch her completely stunned, surprised and confused with your parted lips. Then you blink, processing her words.
“What?”
“Aemond told me everything the moment you set up your rules,” she replies calmly, “The truth is, he never hides anything from me. He can't. So I already knew what you both were doing from the beginning.”
You continue to watch her in shock and disbelief, unable to believe it, trying to understand how she could have kept this to herself so naturally.
And in that moment, with disbelief and surprise beating in your chest, you realize that in every single conversation you had with her, right here at school, at parties, even at that family dinner that ended in disaster thanks to Aegon's drunkenness… she had always known.
“Though I don't always approve of his decisions, I understood why he did it… and why you did too.”
But your mind is still short-circuiting, processing and comprehending.
You relive in your mind every moment you went out of your way to pretend, believing you were fooling everyone, especially her. And yet, there's Helaena, looking at you with an expression of calm and empathy that completely disarms you.
“So you knew?” you are able to formulate in asking in a breathy whisper.
She nods, smiling softly.
“Easy, only I knew.“
“And you're not upset?” you ask confused, still waiting for some sign of reproach.
“Not at all. On the contrary, I'm relieved,” she tells you honestly, ”People made fun of Aemond after Alys. And, well, that left a mark on him. You know what rumors are like here.”
“Oh, believe me I do.”
“And they made him miserable. It also didn't help at all that Alys was his first girlfriend and his first formal relationship but the two of them didn't love each other, it was just obsession and whim,” she says absurdly, "And with you, at least, he got some peace back, even if it was temporary."
“But then…” you look at her blankly, “Why did you ask me if we'll get back together?”
Helaena sighs, her gaze soft but intense.
“Because in the end the two of you really fell in love. I saw you at Dragonstone and it was… too obvious.”
You remain silent, remembering those moments.
Both of you walking through those historical corridors, seeing and learning absolutely everything about old Valyria. Both holding hands, fascinated in the aquarium watching everything around or walking together on the shore of the beach, laughing, exchanging glances, hugging and kissing every now and then that everything felt too sincere to be pretending.
You relived every moment and every detail that you wished you could go back to when everything was fine.
Aemond had been different with you those days, a side of him that you had never seen and had thought only existed because of his performance in the fake relationship you had both agreed to.
But even you, being there, without the pressure to pretend, you felt the barriers fall between the two of you, because it was all real.
“He fell in love with you, Y/N,” Helaena tells you sincerely, “You… you did too?”
You feel a lump form in your throat and you let the question float in the air for a moment. The answer is so clear in your mind that it hurts; and yet, saying it out loud feels like breaking a promise you had made to protect yourself.
“Yes, I did too,” you admit, sadness settling in your chest, "But…" you take a deep breath, watching her, ”What happened with Floris even though it was a mistake… and then, the fact that he didn't tell me the truth about Citadel, it really hurt me.”
Helaena nods softly, not judging you, simply listening to you. And when she speaks, her tone is so serene and understanding that it comforts you.
“My brother has this amazing ability to do things in the worst possible way,” she says with a small resigned smile, ”Floris was a mistake. He was drunk and well, he told me that before that both of you have had a disagreement, although that doesn't justify it, I know. I'm just saying, it really was a mistake.”
Your mind momentarily flashes back to that moment, when you tried to end the fake relationship after the family dinner thing.
“And as for the Citadel thing…” she pauses, searching for the right words, “He freaked out, Y/N. He didn't know how to tell you without ruining everything. And I know that doesn't justify it either, but…” she sighs, ”He was going to do whatever it took to hold up his part of the contract. He just didn't count on our grandfather suddenly getting difficult. Our family is already so fucked up as it is, that was the last thing he expected.”
Her words suddenly make you feel interested and curious about a specific topic you hadn't remembered until now. But Helaena continues to speak and you listen to her.
“Even though his method was disastrous, in his mind, he was protecting you,” she says, ”Again, I'm not justifying it. But I know he was desperate to get you that place at Citadel no matter what because he knew you deserved it. And…” she smiles at you with a gesture of resignation, "I think he loves you enough to do stupidly risky things. Even go against grandfather and act behind his back knowing how much trouble he could get into.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and feel a knot of emotions form in your chest. Everything she's telling you opens a door to feelings you'd tried to repress, to thoughts you'd rather bury.
You take a deep breath, remembering again those days at Dragonstone.
You relive every moment, when words were redundant and the silence between the two of you felt so full of meaning. He was always watching you in a way that seemed to say everything and nothing at the same time. He was slowly revealing that vulnerable part of himself that he seemed to have lost after Alys.
But as much as you want to think straight, your thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the pain of it all consumes you but on the other, there's the certainty of how you feel about him.
Even when you're hurting, you know you can't ignore it.
“I know he's still waiting, deep down, for maybe…” Helaena pauses, “Maybe there's a chance for both of you.”
The expression on her face is so sincere and tender that you find it impossible not to believe her, and the thought fills you with a mixture of relief and pain. Because, despite everything, you still love him, and that truth is impossible to deny.
“I don't know,” you confess, biting your lips and feeling your eyes water, ”I-I…I don't know what to do. I mean, we're already graduating. We'll go to the same college but I doubt we'll see each other, you know? And I just… n-no… I don't know….
“Hey, hey,” Helaena tells you instantly, ”It's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore. I didn't want to overwhelm you or burden you, I just wanted to tell you my opinion and for you to talk to someone in case you needed to,” she tells you softly, comfortingly, ”Still, it's something between the two of you and we can talk about anything else.”
You thank her with a relieved look, her gesture of empathy appearing as she watches you with her soft, understanding expression. And then, she speaks with a more casual tone, changing the subject with a lightness that relieves you a bit.
“You have everything ready for graduation? Are you bringing a date?”
“Hum… yes, I already have everything ready,” you nod, ”And no, I'll go with my two friends. I think you met them, Alysanne and Cregan.”
“Oh yes! I know them,” she says with a smile, ”And I'm going with a friend too. I don't really like the idea of everything being so formal, so going with a friend will make it all more fun.”
Both are silent for a few moments, and although the conversation has taken on a lighter tone, you feel there's still a question trapped in your chest. And at the memory of that day, an impulse prompts you to speak before you can stop yourself.
“Helaena,” you call her softly, "I… can I ask you something?" you ask almost in a whisper, lowering your gaze a little, hesitating.
She watches you curiously and nods without hesitation.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Hum…” you stir in your seat, “That night, at dinner, Aegon said something… about your dad not caring about you. What did he mean by that?”
She immediately looks like she wasn't expecting that question at all, which immediately makes you regret it, but then she softens her whole gaze, not looking at all uncomfortable or upset.
“Oh, well… our dad…” she begins to speak, choosing her words precisely, “Well, he was always very neglectful with us. He always left all the work to mom to take care of us, even when she had to work too so she wasn't totally dependent on him,” she explains, ”It was chaos for a long time. Aegon and I lost years of education because of his lack of commitment.”
“Really?” you look at her attentively and surprised.
“He missed the date to register us for kindergarten in our proper time. He always forgot our birthdays or some important date. But, of course, that never happened to him with our older stepsister, Rhaenyra.”
You remember Aemond mentioning her, though not much.
“And you don't talk to her?”
“Yes, of course,” she says with a small smile, “She was never at blame. In fact, by comparison, she always took us into account and never forgot our existence,” she explains, ”And well, eventually mom divorced him. And the only good thing dad did in the end was to mention us and give us parts of his inheritance in his will.”
Helaena's sincerity and calmness in sharing this about her life surprises you and, at the same time, makes you understand the complicated family history behind them. Now it's no wonder why Aegon was so angry to bring up the subject of parents.
Nor do you ignore the connection you begin to feel towards them, obviously because of your mother and her abandonment.
“It must have been very difficult, for everyone,” you murmur, ”I'm sorry to hear that.”
She nods, though her expression doesn't reflect bitterness, but something akin to mature acceptance.
“Yes, but that made us strong,” she says with a slight smile, "Aegon was the one who resented his absence the most, as you could see," she tells you knowingly, ”You know, being the eldest and all. But we're more… happy now, now that he's gone,” she confesses.
You let out a long breath, watching her with compassion.
“Thank you for telling me. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”
“No, it's fine, it really doesn't affect me,” she assures you softly, ”After that Aegon scene at dinner, it's valid you know. So don't worry.”
You both smile softly at each other, expressions warm and sincere, falling silent. When Helaena stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
“Well…” she says, letting out a slight sigh, adjusting her backpack, ”I should be going now. I also have projects to finish.”
“Sure,” you nod, ”Thanks for coming and talking to me.”
“Oh, there's nothing to thank you for. Anytime. I'll see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
You both say goodbye and you watch her walk away in the direction of the main building, her silver hair shining in the sunlight, as you let out a long breath and put your headphones back in.
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Prom.
You really don't understand what you're doing here. But it's all Alysanne's doing, like the makeup, hairstyle and dress.
You get out of Cregan's car with a beautiful lilac metallic dress on. Finding it wasn't hard at all, since it was like love at first sight, especially since it has a princess cut. And upon measuring it, Alysanne also decided that it was the one.
The hairstyle was also easy, after all, you didn't want anything too voluminous or too fancy. So a wavy style in your hair with a crown of silver flowers at the crown of your head was the perfect touch.
Alysanne on the other hand chose a beautiful wine colored dress that flatters her at every angle, deciding to gather her hair with two strands falling on either side of her face, making her look absolutely elegant and gorgeous.
And once all three of you are ready, Cregan dressed in an impeccable dark suit, offers you both his arms and you enter the grand ballroom of the luxurious hotel together.
The ballroom is illuminated by the typical disco balls hanging from the high ceiling, casting silver and white sparkles that create an almost magical atmosphere.
The decor is elegant and subtle, with centerpieces of fresh flowers and candles giving each table a touch of romantic charm.
You feel a mixture of nerves and excitement as you enter, as if it's all part of a dream. After all, it is your prom and tonight symbolizes a chapter you are about to close, your high school years.
The dance floor is in the center, surrounded by tables in a circle and already some of the guests have started to dance, getting lost in the rhythm of the soft music that fills the atmosphere thanks to the DJ.
Although not only disco balls light up the place, but also some colored lights to make the atmosphere more colorful.
If someone had told you in your freshman year everything that was going to happen in your final year, you would have laughed out loud and wouldn't have believed it at all, because your life was too boring.
But here you are, with still those events in mind, where at the end of the night, you will put them behind you.
You adjust your lilac dress, whose princess-cut skirt falls in soft layers to the floor. The fabric moves with you, as if it were an extension of your own footsteps, and the color shimmers delicately under the silver lights.
The three of you make your way to one of the tables to take a seat and you take a closer look around you as the decorations and you also see familiar faces of some of your classmates, some laughing in groups and others on the dance floor with their dates.
And Alysanne, excited and obsessed with everything, wants to have memories of the whole night and soon the three of you are taking a long selfie session with her phone.
Cregan complains about too many photos and the laughter of the three fills the air as Alysanne continues to make sure she captures the best shots, changing angles and poses.
Alysanne, with a huge smile, spins around on herself and then grabs your hands to dance with her, laughing every time you both take a step out of rhythm. You can feel her pure happiness, an excitement that doesn't take long to become contagious and where Cregan soon joins in.
The dance floor is filling up and the sparkles of the lights reflecting off everyone's costumes and dresses create an enchanting and magical atmosphere.
The DJ starts mixing more upbeat songs, and you see how everyone is having fun, laughing and dancing.
Immediately this catches Alysanne's attention and she drags the three of you onto the dance floor with infectious laughter. Before you know it, you're in the middle of the dance floor with them, surrounded by movement and music.
The music beats on the floor and vibrates in your chest, and, slowly, you begin to let loose, moving to the beat of the songs as the colored lights swirl above you all.
“I'm going to get a drink!” you let them both know over the music.
You have no idea exactly how much time passes that you find yourself dancing, enjoying the night, the echo of laughter and the warmth of the crowd.
The euphoria makes you forget and enjoy yourself as you feel your throat dry and your feet start to ache, with your body starting to beg for water and a little break.
“Okay!” Cregan nods, throwing you a smile, still dancing with Alysanne.
You smile knowingly, since after all, these two deserve to have their moment, and you walk away towards the table where there are different desserts and the drinks for all the graduates.
You take a bottle of water, and as you drink, the immediate relief makes you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness.
And only at that moment, standing alone and a little apart, you notice the glances of some people around you, mainly girls passing by you and whispering something between them, looking at you out of the corner of their eyes.
Great.
You thought you were past all this but even at prom it doesn't stop.
You take a deep breath and look out onto the dance floor, where you make out Alysanne and Cregan dancing close together, smiling and animated. You certainly don't want to interrupt them and you look around again, trying to distract yourself with anything you can find to rest your feet on.
You try not to make a big deal of it and look back at them for just a few moments with a serious look on your face and again try to focus on regaining your energy, telling yourself that this shouldn't affect you.
You remind yourself that you are here for you and your friends, and that is all that should matter to you.
When your gaze unconsciously focuses on Floris.
With her arm intertwined with a boy, whom you recognize from the lacrosse team, she looks absolutely elegant with a beautiful hairstyle and a gorgeous pink dress.
And as she joins the party, she seems totally focused on enjoying the evening, her expression relaxed and happy.
You look away from her, focused on something else, where your attention slips unintentionally to Alys, surrounded by her friends.
In the distance, suddenly her gaze meets yours and you quickly look away, not knowing why but… you really don't want to deal with or care about those people anymore.
She's wearing dark makeup and a sensual emerald green dress that completely clings to her body and highlights her curves. She looks completely beautiful, but knowing her attitude and behavior, it makes her lose her charm.
You watch Helaena for a few more seconds, her energy lighting up the dance floor, when suddenly, a tall, familiar figure catches your attention on the other side of the room in the crowd.
Instead, you focus on Helaena, who you find among all the people dancing, getting carried away by the atmosphere and in the company of the friend who told you.
Her silver hair is swaying to the music and she shines in the middle of everyone in that beautiful sky blue dress and gold accessories, looking absolutely gorgeous.
Aemond is standing a few feet away, talking to Aegon, both looking absolutely handsome for the evening. Then, the atmosphere around you seems to fade a bit and he's the only one who catches your eye in the middle of the crowd.
And that mixture of emotions about him rises in your chest again.
You take a closer look at who is around him and it is only Aegon. You don't see any girl hanging on his arm or anything, so apparently he has come unaccompanied, just like you.
He is dressed in a dark suit that highlights his slender figure and impeccable posture, just like Aegon. The silver light of the disc balls bring out his silver hair and his face so perfectly detailed, giving it a glow that is almost unreal to you.
Your gaze lingers on him longer than you had anticipated. From a distance, you can notice the lack of expressions on his face and the small twitch of his lips as he speaks to Aegon, looking around him without really showing any emotion.
That eye contact takes the air out of you. The memory of all the things you shared, the conversations, the looks, the touching and kissing… it all comes over you.
And at that very moment, as if sensing the weight of your attention, Aemond looks up and sees you beyond the crowd, apart and alone. The visual connection is instantaneous, almost electric, and suddenly you feel all the people and bustle around you fade away.
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You can't deny the attraction and deep affection that, even now, beat intensely in your chest. And, for an instant, you wonder if he too feels the same mix of nostalgia and sadness in the midst of it all.
You notice how he looks you up and down, lingering on every detail of what you're wearing today, his eyes shining, filled with a kind of wary hope and longing, completely stealing your breath.
Then, his body language tells you he's getting ready to move. Coming at you, with her determined gaze.
Oh God.
A sense of panic invades every part of your body. And before he can do anything, you look away and quickly make your way to the dance floor, blending into the crowd, heading towards your friends.
The music booms in your ears and your thoughts are in complete chaos, hitting you one after the other.
Closing your eyes for a moment, you tell yourself that you just want to enjoy the night, to stop thinking about him and what was, even if it's only for a few hours.
So time passes, the energy of the dance becomes more relaxed, and though you manage to avoid crossing paths directly with Aemond, his presence seems to haunt your mind like a lingering ghost, one that doesn't dissipate with the music or the bright lights.
You look around from time to time, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that he also seems to avoid being too close to you, although you can't help thinking that maybe he is also looking for you in the crowd, as you are looking for him.
Until, finally, the atmosphere immediately changes.
The lights dim and the silver and warm tones transform the room into an intimate place. Couples begin to approach the dance floor, holding hands, to dance to the slow songs. And you decide it's the perfect time to take a break.
You smile at Cregan and Alysanne, giving them another moment again, feeling a twinge of tenderness and, at the same time, unexpected loneliness.
You take a seat at one of the nearby tables, watching as the dance floor fills with couples slowly swaying to the music.
Dresses and suits intertwine, and for a moment, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of the atmosphere, allowing yourself to feel invisible in the midst of all that harmony.
You watch Floris dancing with that boy, Alysanne with Cregan of course, and Helaena dancing with her friend, both with amused smiles and talking softly without taking the slow dance so seriously. You also see Aegon dancing very close with a girl.
And as your eyes wander around the dance floor, your gaze focuses again on his figure, which seems just as lonely as yours.
A few tables away, Aemond sits alone, surveying the dance floor with an expression you fail to fully decipher. His fingers drum on the rim of his glass, and, for a moment, he seems lost in his own thoughts. He looks calm, almost vulnerable.
You stare at him longer than you think and sigh, averting your gaze, and as the seconds pass, the urge to stand still and do nothing begins to fade.
You bite the inside of your cheek and begin to move your foot up and down rapidly, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast. You watch all the people dancing again, hesitating.
Then you let out a long breath and without knowing exactly why, you take a deep breath and stand up. With slow steps, a momentum and a calmness you try to maintain, you head towards him.
As you get closer, you notice how his gaze, which was lost on the dance floor, suddenly focuses on you, noticing before out of the corner of his eye your approaching figure. Surprise and bewilderment mixed with something else appears in his gaze and you stop in front of him, nervous but determined.
Then neither of you say anything for a few moments. The same nerves make you unable to speak and the two of you just stand there, watching each other.
You feel how some people around you suddenly have their attention focused on both of you, waiting for what you will do, but you don't even pay attention to them. You just focus completely on him.
Until you sigh.
"Do you dance?" you ask softly and nervous.
The words seem to break the spell, and Aemond blinks, clearly surprised and somehow confused.
You watch the expression on his face, as if he's processing every word you've just said, looking for some hint of doubt or change of heart in your expression.
"S-sure," he says still confused, not expecting this at all.
There's a mix of emotions in his eyes, confusion, surprise and nervousness, something you wouldn't have expected to see in him. And you, not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, extend your hand to him.
He watches your face attentively and then your hand, still surprised, to finally take it gently. His fingers intertwine with yours, sending an electricity throughout your body through his touch as he stands up.
You swallow hard, feeling your heart beating like crazy and nervousness invading your whole system. And without another word, you both head for the dance floor.
Then, everything around you fades away, the murmurs and laughter, even the music itself becomes a distant whisper, and only he remains, next to you.
He places a hand on your waist, his touch delicate, as if he doesn't want to do anything that could break this fragile instant. You take his other hand, intertwining it with yours and as you both begin to move to the rhythm of the music, you feel how a mixture of emotions floods each of your senses.
Aemond watches you, his eyes fixed on yours and with a nervous little smile on his lips, as if he can't believe this is really happening.
The music moves forward, slow, allowing you to glide in front of each other. As his steps synchronize with yours, the movements become smooth and natural.
And in a moment you realize that you both are completely absorbed in each other, as if nothing and no one could interrupt this bubble that surrounds you.
Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice barely audible over the music and shy, watching you with a gleam in his eye.
"You look beautiful."
He says to you, his words so sincere and emotionally charged that you feel a surge of warmth wash over you.
You wish his words didn't make you melt. But they do. And everything about him, every gesture, his closeness, the firm, protective touch of his hand on your waist, the way he holds you, as if you were something precious and delicate, envelops and intoxicates you.
"Thank you," you reply, feeling a soft smile appear on your lips, "You too... you look very handsome."
He smiles, marking the dimples on either side of his cheeks.
"I wasn't expecting you to come over," he admits, his eyes revealing something between vulnerability and surprise.
The tone of his voice, so soft and honest, makes you feel a warmth you haven't experienced in a long time.
"I didn't know I would," you reply with a barely perceptible smile, "But I thought, maybe... I don't want to spend the night running away," you confess.
He nods, not looking away.
"I didn't want it to be like that either."
His hand on your waist pulls you slightly closer to him with a firm movement and the slight brush makes you aware of the closeness between the two of you.
You feel your thoughts cloud over and you let yourself become more enveloped by him, unable to help it.
His chin brushes your forehead and you feel that at any moment your heart will jump out of your chest. It's an insistent, powerful beat that seems to resonate with every breath you take at his side.
Then, Aemond lowers his voice, his tone becoming softer, almost melancholy, as if his words are a secret shared only between the two of you.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know? When I gave you the folder.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know, when I gave you the folder," he confesses, with a certain melancholy tone, "But I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you that and I really didn't want to hurt you anymore."
The sincerity in his tone pierces you, and you feel your own barriers begin to crumble. You listen to him with your heart pounding, absorbing every word.
Aemond sighs and his fingers tighten slightly at your waist.
"And a moment ago, when I saw you so perfect and so beautiful in this dress... I realized how much I wished I had walked through those doors with you on my arm," he says with a longing and sadness.
The music continues to envelop you and you feel his confession reverberate through you, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.
The strength of his words, of the connection that has been created between the two of you in the middle of this song, makes the air seem thick and charged with meanings that don't need to be explained.
Then you raise your gaze to him and you both stare at each other in silence, where your words seem to get caught in your throat.
His eyes roam over your face, as if he wants to remember every detail, as if he wants to take this moment with him. There is a sadness and a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before, and it makes something in your chest tighten.
And again his voice breaks through the soft silence that envelops you.
"I'm sorry... for everything," he says barely a whisper, laden with a sincerity that resonates deeply.
His fingers trace slow circles on your back, small gestures that seem to try to comfort you and to comfort him too. The contact between the two of you is firm and warm, and yet, you feel as if Aemond fears that at any moment this could disappear.
For a moment, the music seems to fade, leaving only your heartbeat and the echo of his voice in the air.
You feel the urge to speak, to say something that would ease the vulnerability on his face, but you find it difficult to organize your thoughts.
Instead, you opt for a simple but meaningful gesture. You propel yourself a little towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, then rest your head on his chest and gently inhale his expensive cologne, being comforting enough for you.
"It's okay," you murmur.
He lets out a sigh of relief, mixed with longing and makes his grip on your waist tighter, not wanting to let go. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head, resting his head on yours as you both continue to sway gently to the music.
"Thank you for giving me this dance," he murmurs.
You place a soft, small smile on your lips, then raise your gaze to his, watching him with nothing but fondness.
He continues to watch you with that softness and one of his hands goes up to your cheek. In a delicate, almost fearful touch, his thumb runs over your skin in a gesture that is both protective and vulnerable.
Then he rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes, as you lean into him.
You both fall silent, letting the slow rhythm of the music carry you away, allowing the moment to linger, in a fragile and honest peace.
You feel that you could stay like this, in this bubble of time and silence, without the need for words, because, in this instant, you both understand what has been said and what doesn't need to be said.
The song changes to another slow one and you both lose yourselves in the moment, enjoying it, not wanting it to end.
Time seems to stand still as you dance together, moving slowly and leisurely, as if nothing and no one else exists. The sounds of the party fade around you, leaving only the beating of your hearts and the faint brush of your breaths.
Your eyes close as you let go, feeling his hand on your back and the warmth his body gives off, so close and so full of meaning.
You both breathe in sync, your foreheads resting against each other, your eyes closed as the moment stretches out and becomes more than just a dance.
This instant is a truce, a refuge where everything else, the doubts, the pain, the past, is suspended and what follows is moving forward.
"You've got everything ready to go to college?"
His voice breaks the silence softly, barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb the peace around you both.
"Yeah," you murmur, nodding.
"What are you traveling there on?"
"Well, I was checking with my dad about bus and plane ticket prices. But I still haven't made up my mind," you admit, remembering discussions about which was the safest and cheapest option.
Aemond nods, thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, he speaks with calm assurance.
"I can take you."
You look at him instantly surprised, definitely not expecting that.
"What?"
"I can take you," he repeats, sure of his words, "Well, sure, if you want," he hastens to clarify, "After all, we're going to the same place and I'll make the trip in my car," he explains, "There's plenty of room for your bags along with mine and so you won't have to spend on a ticket. Besides, it would be safer and I think, I don't know, you'd be more comfortable."
You remain silent, trying to assimilate what he has just said. There is something in his words, in the slow and sincere tone, that strikes a deep chord in you.
The idea of making the trip together, of sharing that important moment of departure, of having one last time alone before facing a new life, awakens a mix of emotions that are difficult to describe.
He lowers his gaze for a moment, nervous, clarifying in a low voice.
"It's just a suggestion... something I thought might make things easier for you. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."
Your heart pounds, and somehow, the simplicity of his offer, the naturalness with which he cares for you, causes a warm surge of gratitude and affection to wash over you.
"Can you really do that for me?" you ask quietly, with a little smile you can't help.
"Sure," he says absurdly softly, as if it weren't obvious, "But only if you want me to. I don't want to force you. It's just an option."
You look up at him, holding his gaze for a second that seems like forever, and nod slowly, allowing the feeling of relief and closeness to wash over you.
"I'd love to," you whisper, your voice barely a murmur, "Thank you."
The shadow of a smile tugs at his lips, and you can see the relief in his expression.
"No need to thanks."
Without another word, Aemond pulls you a little closer to him and again the two of you bring your foreheads together, letting the moment lengthen as the music changes to another slow rhythm.
You both remain like that, moving in silence and enjoying the moment, spending the last moment of your high school lives together, to start college together.
"Are you ready?"
Aemond watches you from the driver's seat, his hands resting calmly on the steering wheel with a small smile on his face.
The car is already loaded with suitcases for both of you and you nod, taking a deep breath to calm the emotions fluttering in your chest.
The thought of heading off together towards this new stage causes a mixture of nerves and excitement to wash over you, though a part of you also feels comforted by Aemond's presence at your side.
"Yes," you reply, adjusting your belt.
You watch him and he gives you one last knowing look before putting the car in move.
Saying goodbye to your dad was difficult, but it was something you were both already preparing for and you knew that moment would come.
Besides, he met Aemond, as your friend who will do you the favor of driving you to college and nothing more. And your dad felt safer with that instead of taking the plane or bus alone.
Especially after Aemond promised him countless times that he would take care of you at all times.
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The road is serene at first, and Aemond turns on the radio, letting a soft melody fill the comfortable silence between them.
The roads stretch out in front of you, long and exciting, as the landscape changes shape and the kilometers pass, leaving behind the city where you experienced so much.
From time to time, you exchange glances, small comments about the places you see and the expectations each has for the university.
Aemond seems especially careful, attentive to every sign on the road and every change in your expression, as if he wants to make sure you are comfortable and at ease.
And he especially notices a change in your expression.
"Is something bothering you?" he asks you, his voice low but close, filling the space in a comforting way.
You watch him and after some hesitation, you shrug.
"I guess it makes me a little nervous not knowing what to expect," you admit, "This whole new stage... the idea of being alone in a new place."
Aemond nods, understanding what you mean, his eyes fixed on the road.
"I guess it's normal," he tells you softly, "It's almost obligatory to feel this way, but, for what it's worth... you won't be completely alone."
His gaze meets yours for a second before he turns back to the road.
"I'm going to be around if at any time you need anything or anything happens, anything at all."
You feel a warmth settle in your chest, and a part of your nerves seem to fade. The idea of him being there, close by, offering you that closeness, gives you a strange sense of relief.
"Thank you, Aemond," you murmur with a small smile.
He smiles, marking a dimple in his cheek, and turns his eyes to the front.
The ride continues, where the atmosphere in the car becomes more and more comfortable, chatting about small details, expectations, and the occasional joke that makes you both laugh comfortably.
And finally, as the two enter the town of Oldtown and the university looms in the distance, Aemond slows down, looking at the campus that would soon become his home.
"There it is," he says, a slight excitement in his voice.
The same excitement rubs off on you and excitedly, you take his hand, intertwining it with yours, excited and hopeful.
Hopeful that all that is to come for you in this place are good and promising things. As well as hopeful for Aemond and for you.
series taglist:
@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @queen-of-elves
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mingi-s-dimples · 18 hours ago
Text
Outage - Yunsan
KINKTOBER DAY 19, REQ. BY anon
~"Can you write a college au fic where Yunho and San are best friends living next door to the (fem)reader's apartment/ dorm. Both of them like the reader and they ended having a threesome at the guys' place (maybe she goes to their dorm during a power outage cause she's scared, you can decide the reason she's there). I'd like for the reader to be a virgin, whereas the guys are a bit more experienced. Yunho is a mean, rough dom while San is a softer, gentler dom and they work together to give the reader multiple orgasms in various positions." - I'm so sorry ml I would add all the details but it's gonna occupy all the space :<
pairing: yunho x reader x san
genre: 18+, filth, college au
summary: oops, energy's out on your floor. What a good night to go over at your besties, to finish your study session. Yeah, right.. you studied, for sure.. how to give a bj.
wc: 5.8k
warnings: college au, best friends, big dick!yunsan, reader is a virgin, finger sucking, fingering, multiple orgasms (A LOT OF THEM), like 3 orgasms by fingering and one by fucking for reader and yunsan having like two each... so lots of cummm, overstim, dacryphilia, bj, double penetration, yunho is a rougher dom than san, marking (LOOOTSSS OF ITTT), lots of eye contact, praising, pet names (sweetie, love, sweetheart, princess), unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.
Author's Note: it legitimately took me 5 days to finish this fic 🧍‍♀️ but it has 5.8k words so ig it's pretty expected 💁‍♀️. It is as detailed as I could write it, my love.. I hope you like it. Pls let me know if you did by completing the request form or by sending me an ask to my inbox! 🥰 I loved writing it, ngl... Enjoy, guys !!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.
The cool evening air nipped at your cheeks as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building with San and Yunho, your books and notebooks bundled tightly in your arms. Despite the demands of your classes, the three of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm this semester, balancing study sessions with countless inside jokes, late-night ramen runs, and endless laughter. Living in the same building, with you just a few doors down from their shared dorm, had only solidified the bond between you.
"So," Yunho said, glancing down at you with a teasing smile as you reached the door to their place, "how much of Professor Lee’s reading did you actually finish last night?"
You groaned, letting your head fall back dramatically. "Please don’t remind me. I got, like, halfway before I passed out.”
San chuckled, brushing his shoulder against yours. “That’s better than Yunho and me. We didn’t even crack the book open.”
Yunho put his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I never claimed I was on top of things! Besides, I was too busy helping San fix that stupid coffee machine he broke.”
San rolled his eyes, nudging him. “You’re the one who insisted on trying to ‘hack’ it to make double shots.”
“Details, details.” Yunho gave you both an exaggerated shrug, making you laugh.
As the three of you lingered in the hallway, the faint warmth of your playful banter started to drift. There was a stack of assignments waiting to be tackled, so after a few more exchanges, you decided to head to your own dorm.
"Alright, we’ve procrastinated long enough," you sighed. "I’ll see you guys later?"
San nodded, grinning. “We’ll probably still be awake at 2 a.m. if you wanna come back and cram together.”
Yunho gave a wink. “Or if you get bored, you know where to find us.”
“Noted,” you replied with a smirk, giving them a small wave as you turned and walked down the hall to your door.
Inside, your dorm room was quiet, lit only by the faint amber glow of your desk lamp. You settled in, organizing your textbooks and notes, trying to get into the right mindset to finally tackle your assignments. An hour ticked by, then another, and you began to make progress. But just as you were reaching the last few pages of your reading, the lights suddenly flickered. Then, with a low hum, everything went dark.
You stared at the darkness for a moment, blinking in surprise. The hallway lights were out too, leaving your entire floor eerily quiet and still. You grabbed your phone and quickly typed out a message to Yunho and San:
“Hey, my power just went out… Can I come over and finish my work? I can’t see anything here.”
The reply was almost instant. Yunho’s text popped up first: “Definitely! We’ll keep the lights on for you.”
San’s text followed a second later. “Come on over. We’ll even share the snacks.”
You smiled at their texts and went on packing everything you needed. Pens, the highlighters you always used for your notes, notebooks, textbooks… everything you thought you’d need. As you went out the door and locked it, you smiled and turned on the phone flashlight and went up the stairs to their dorm.
When you arrived at their room, Yunho opened the door with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he held it wide for you to enter. Inside, the room was cozy and warmly lit, shadows casting soft outlines across their books and scattered notes. The faint scent of coffee and something sweet lingered, wrapping you in an inviting warmth that made the tension from your dark, quiet room dissipate.
You placed your things on the table and settled into a chair, and before you even had a chance to fully adjust, Yunho shifted beside you. He leaned over, feigning interest in your notes, though his attention clearly lingered on you more than your work. His arm brushed yours, his fingers lightly grazing the edge of your hand, sending a gentle warmth up your arm.
“Feels better here, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his voice soft, almost inviting you to agree.
You nodded, trying to focus on the pages in front of you, but the warmth of his presence was impossible to ignore.
“Definitely feels better than sitting alone in the dark,” you whispered, a small smile creeping onto your face.
From the other side, San watched with a relaxed smile, sliding his chair closer. He rested a hand on the back of your seat, his fingers just barely skimming your shoulder, his touch grounding and comforting.
“Good thing you have us,” San murmured, his thumb brushing softly along the curve of your shoulder. The warmth in his voice, usually playful, was softer, almost reverent. He looked at you with a gentleness that made your heart flutter, his touch a calming presence that drew you in.
The room filled with a quiet, intimate energy as you all fell into a natural silence, the rustling of paper and the faint click of a pen the only sounds. But gradually, the space between you felt like it was diminishing, your awareness of their proximity deepening with every gentle touch and sidelong glance.
Yunho’s fingers began a slow trail along the length of your arm, a feather-light touch that made your pulse race, yet somehow left you craving more. His gaze held yours, warm and open, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“You’re too quiet now,” he teased softly. “Usually you can’t stop talking.”
The words sent a shiver through you, and you managed a soft laugh, your voice barely above a whisper. “Guess I’m… distracted.”
San’s hand moved, his fingers brushing along your shoulder as his gaze softened. He looked at you for a moment, his usual grin replaced by a serious, thoughtful expression. “Well,” he murmured, “we don’t mind sharing a little… distraction.”
Surrounded by them both, you felt the pull of their closeness, each touch deepening the quiet understanding between you. The night continued in gentle, charged stillness, their presence speaking louder than words as you sat together, enveloped in warmth, comfort, and something that felt undeniably right.
The quiet atmosphere began to thrum with anticipation, an unspoken intensity filling the air as Yunho’s gaze lingered on yours, searching. He finally took a deep breath, and his voice, usually bright and playful, softened with a serious edge.
“I think we need to tell you something,” Yunho said, his fingers still tracing light circles on your arm, sending ripples of warmth through your skin. You looked up, curiosity and apprehension mingling in your expression.
He glanced at San, who gave him a subtle nod, his eyes holding a similar warmth as he looked at you. Yunho took another breath, a little unsteady, then met your eyes again.
“We both… like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words echoed in your heart. “San and I… we’ve talked about this, and we know it’s unusual, but neither of us could ignore how we feel.”
San moved closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, his touch both reassuring and grounding. “We want you to know that we’re here for you, together… if you’d want that too.” His voice was low and steady, but you could see the hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he waited for your reaction.
Your heart raced, the reality of their words sinking in, a warmth blossoming in your chest. You found yourself nodding, a small smile breaking across your lips as you whispered, “Yes, I… I want that too.”
A flicker of mischief sparked in Yunho’s eyes as he leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You should know… we’ll take good care of you.” Then he paused, noticing the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your gaze shifted shyly downward.
“Actually, there’s something you should know too…” you whispered, the words tumbling out, heart racing as you admitted, “I’m… not experienced. I haven't, uh - had sex.. before.”
Yunho’s expression softened, a gentle laugh escaping him as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and steady. “Then, we’ll take it slow,” he promised, his voice tender. He looked over to San, who nodded with a smirk and a glint in his eye. “We’ll make sure you’re… well taken care of,” Yunho murmured, the reassurance in his words filling you with a sense of warmth and trust.
Yunho’s fingers slid down, grazing your jawline, his touch electrifying as he closed the distance between you. The air felt thick, charged, as if any moment of hesitation had melted away, replaced by something deeper, more primal. His eyes, dark with intent, flickered over your face, taking in every inch of your expression, every shallow breath. He leaned closer, his gaze settling on your lips, and you felt yourself drawn toward him, as if his very presence held you captive.
Just as his lips brushed yours, San’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently back against him. His warmth enveloped you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss below your ear. “We’ll go at your pace,” he whispered, his voice a soft promise, yet laced with that familiar teasing edge. His lips trailed along the curve of your neck, slow and deliberate, as Yunho’s fingers found their way to your hair, tilting your face back to meet his gaze.
“Are you still nervous?” Yunho murmured, his voice rich and warm. His eyes softened with understanding, yet there was an undeniable impatience simmering beneath, a quiet hunger that made your breath catch. You shook your head, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips, and Yunho’s own smirk grew as he finally, slowly, closed the last bit of space between you.
The kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration, but you felt the fire building with each second. Yunho’s hands, no longer hesitant, traced down your back, drawing you closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance any longer. San’s grip on your waist tightened, his mouth pressing firmer against your neck, his breath sending a thrill down your spine. He sucked dark marks all over your back and shoulders, soft whines escaping your slowly rising chest. Every inch of you was surrounded by their warmth, their presence, until all you could feel was them, grounding you, igniting you, and filling you with a new, intoxicating sense of belonging.
“We've been waiting for this… y/n. For a looong time..” San whispered in your ear from behind, tracing his fingers on your body. He looked up at Yunho and gave him an understanding nod, to which Yunho pulled back, “Yes, sweetie.. you with that little smile of yours… and face. personality of yours…”.
In an instant, San lifted you up, his arms steady and strong as he carried you over to the bed, the movement gentle but filled with a kind of care that made your heart skip a beat. He laid you down with the utmost tenderness, settling behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His hold was warm, comforting, and his fingers traced soft, delicate patterns along your arm, grounding you in this moment.
With San pressed against your back, Yunho moved to the edge of the bed, crawling forward to face you. His gaze held a softness that made you feel cherished, and as he took in every detail of your face, his smile was both gentle and captivating.
“You’re beautiful,” Yunho murmured, his voice low but full of sincerity. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it carefully behind your ear. “Everything about you… just perfect.”
A blush crept into your cheeks at his words, and you looked down for a moment, but Yunho tilted your chin up, bringing your gaze back to his. “Hey, don’t hide from us now,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly along your jawline. “We want to see you… all of you.”
Behind you, San nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as he held you closer. “Yunho’s right,” he murmured, his tone soft yet intense. “We’ve been drawn to you for so long… more than we ever let on.” His arms tightened around you, the embrace protective and reassuring, grounding you in their presence. His lips found their way again on your neck, right under your jaw, where he marked you again. He was just oh-so-thirsty for you.
Yunho leaned closer, his forehead almost resting against yours, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s always been you. The way you laugh, the way you care about people… you’re everything we could have asked for.”
The gentle pressure of their touch, the way they held you so close, filled you with a warmth that ran deeper than anything you’d known. Their affection, their sincerity—it was as if they’d been holding onto these feelings for so long, waiting for the perfect moment to share them with you.
San’s hand moved slowly, gently intertwining his fingers with yours, his breath soft against your ear as he whispered, “We’re right here, and we’re not going anywhere.”
In their embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and undeniably loved, wrapped in the warmth of their closeness and the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Yunho’s eyes met yours, a hint of mischief glinting in his gaze as he leaned down, his lips brushing just below your collarbone. His fingers grazed along your shoulders, and he let his lips linger, pressing warm, slow kisses down the curve of your neck, making his way lower. Each touch felt like a silent promise, but there was something more deliberate in the way his lips marked your skin. The heat of his breath traced down to your collarbone, and as he pressed against you, his hands held you firmly in place.
With a quiet murmur, Yunho drew back slightly, his mouth leaving a faint, warm imprint on your skin, and turned to glance at San. His smile was laced with both a challenge and a hint of possessiveness. “I’m marking her everywhere,” he said, his voice low and edged with a playful intensity. “Let’s see who makes her feel it more.”
San smirked, his fingers still intertwined with yours, while Yunho’s hand found its way to your thigh. His touch was steady, almost firm, and he pushed your legs apart, creating space between you, his gaze tracing over your form with clear appreciation. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words gentle against the intensity of his actions. His fingers slid along the soft skin of your thigh, a hint of roughness to his touch that made your heart race. Every glance, every touch, held a kind of reverence as if he was both admiring and claiming you all at once.
Yunho’s eyes never left yours as his lips began to trail slowly downward, warm and intentional, leaving a path of tender heat across your skin. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space as he leaned in, his lips pressing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and every now and then he would pause, sucking gently at the delicate skin until he left a faint, possessive mark in his wake. His fingers tightened slightly around your thighs, grounding you in the sensation of his touch as he worked his way upward.
Behind you, San’s hand moved to your neck, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw before he tilted your chin up, his own mouth finding its way to the curve of your throat. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin as he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss just below your jawline. “Just let us show you,” he murmured softly, his tone filled with affection, his fingers moving to caress the sensitive skin beneath your ear.
San’s hold on your jaw made your head tilt back slightly, and you felt Yunho’s mouth on your thighs, trailing upward with unhurried intensity, marking you as he went, savoring each touch. The way they held you—San’s protective yet gentle hold from behind and Yunho’s firm, claiming presence from the front—made your heart race, filling you with an undeniable sense of being cherished, their attention leaving you breathless in the quiet warmth of their embrace.
San’s breath grew heavier behind you, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of his cock pressing firmly against your lower back, his restraint slipping with every moment. His hands moved to your waist, fingers tightening as he pulled you up, shifting you to sit fully on his lap. The sensation of him beneath you sent a warm blush to your cheeks, and you smiled, caught off guard yet undeniably drawn to the warmth and intensity of his touch.
Meanwhile, Yunho was still focused on you, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving small marks that trailed upward, each one deliberate, each one claiming. His hands roamed softly along your legs as he pressed one last kiss to your inner thigh before he pulled back, catching sight of the subtle evidence of your own arousal against the linen beneath you. A playful smirk tugged at his lips, and he looked up, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief.
Without breaking eye contact, Yunho’s hand moved slowly, confidently, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh before reaching that sensitive place, his touch both gentle and intentional. His fingers explored with careful precision, his eyes watching your every reaction, savoring the way you responded to each movement. San’s hands remained steady at your waist, anchoring you in place as Yunho leaned in, his gaze filled with both admiration and a playful challenge, entirely focused on you, caught in the moment they shared with you.
“You’re so wet already… I can see that you love being marked, is that right?” Yunho asked, his finger pressing against your clit, keeping eye contact with you. “Tell me, sweetie. You wanted this too, mm?” two of his fingers found it’s way in, your head falling back on San’s shoulder as you felt Yunho’s fingers curling inside you. He started to finger you, his long, slender fingers hitting spots you’d never thought would arouse you but here you were.. between the two men you’ve always dreamed of.
“Yunho.. let’s take turns, shall we?” San said from behind, your eyes widened at his words. What did he mean by.. take turns..? you asked yourself.
He smiled at San’s words. “Yeah, sure.. why not. But first, let me have my way with her..” Yunho said and curled his fingers inside you, hitting your g spot a couple of times, moans escaping your throat. “Then.. you can have your way with her and.. “ he circled your clit with his thumb, making you bite your lip, “we can both have our way with her.” San scoffed from behind, approvingly.
“Now.. let's see how much you can handle, sweetheart.” the taller one whispered and he worked both of his hands around your folds. His right hand was 2 fingers deep inside you, finger fucking you rapidly, building your orgasm, while his other hand had the thumb onto your clit, rubbing it in circles, sometimes putting pressure on it. You squirmed and squirmed in front of him and above San, until you basically couldn't take it anymore.
“Y-yunho..!” you started, but words dissipated fast.
“What, princess?” he smiled at you, your face flustered.
“I-i.. ngh.. gotta-” you moaned out the last word, head falling back once again onto San's chest.
“Use your words, pretty girl.”
“I- gotta… c-cum! Yunho, p-please…” you pleaded, eyes teary from being stretched out by his fingers.
Yunho’s smirk grew, his fingers maintaining that perfect, teasing rhythm. He watched you closely, keeping eye contact, catching each hitch in your breath, each tremble, like he was savoring every second. “There we go, princess” he murmured, his tone turning a touch more commanding. “Let it all out…” Yunho said and pressed all your sweet spots until you squirmed over his hand and came all over, creaming on his fingers.
San’s hold tightened from behind, his hands firm on your waist, pulling you slightly against him. “You think you can handle more, princess?” His voice had a rougher edge now, the soft amusement shifting to something more intense.
“Y-yes.. please..” you whispered, voice low and quiet.
“Then.. show us just how much you can take it, sweetheart.”
Yunho’s fingers pressed deeper for a moment, coaxing a soft sound from you that only seemed to encourage them. “Look at you, so eager,” he murmured, his voice velvet-smooth but with a hint of challenge. “We’re not even close to done with you, sweetheart.”
“C'mon, San.. come here. Switch with me.” the taller one said and lifted you, putting you down in his lap, right against his hard cock. He was.. way lengthier than San was but.. San was.. girthier, you'd say? Either way, you were slightly scared of how painfully pleasurable it was gonna be.
You were already out of it. Face sweaty, flustered, eyes teary and legs trembling, but they were not yet done. San's hand ran between your legs, his fingers tracing your thighs. He lubed them up on your own juices then pushed them in, his fingers girthier than Yunho's. Two fingers of his feeling like 3 of Yunho's, you felt yourself being stretched out even more than before. You were close to your high again, even faster than before as you were already aroused.
“You look so beautiful like this, my princes…” San said and sucked a mark on your thigh. Surprised, you moaned pushing your head back into Yunho's buff chest. His right hand went under your chin and slowly pulled your mouth to his, going in for a kiss. At first, it was a soft, tender one. Then, as your moans and whines grew more often and his groans revrebrating through your body, the kiss deepened and the knot in your belly started to feel tighter and tighter, until San curled his fingers into your g-spot and clit at the same time and you beautifully came onto his fingers for the 2nd time in a row.
“That's it, sweetheart…” San whispered
Yunho continued from behind, “Such a good girl..”
How Yunho called you sent a shiver down your spine. Yunho lifted you up onto his lap, sitting you straight.
“One more, sweetie? We promise it's the last one…” he said.
“H-uh? I-” you couldn't even talk, but you nodded your head in approval. The boys looked at each other, giving understanding stares. San pulled you to his chest, placing you on his thigh. You were basically sitting sideways on his lap, your legs spread out evenly. Yunho came under your left leg, in the same position San was. They both pulled your legs outwards slightly, resting on one another's thighs. (it's like they're really close to each other and she's sitting on both men's thighs, left leg over Yunho's entire leg and right one over San's).
They held you promptly and their fingers traveled over your body, Yunho’s hand resting on your waist, San's on your breasts.
“Are you ready, our princess?” San asked.
You nodded. That was it.
“Hold your legs and spread out, darling.”
Both men's fingers went for your hole, a loud moan escaping your throat as you felt both men stretching you in opposite directions. One another was softly pulling towards themselves, inserting each of them two of their fingers, as deep as possible.
They took their time, as if savoring the moment as much as you, their breaths steady and close to your ear, a soft warmth reminding you that they were fully present. Their fingers moved with an intimacy that spoke volumes, every subtle yet harsh movement letting you feel how attuned they were to every reaction, every moan, whine you made.
Their touch became more focused, the rhythm of their fingers overwhelming as you felt the tension building deep within you. San’s voice was a soft murmur by your ear, encouraging you, each word melting into the warmth of his breath, heightening every sensation. Yunho’s grip on your waist steadied you, his thumb brushing along your side in tender, grounding strokes, keeping you fully present in the moment.
And then, with a final, gentle touch, the wave overtook you, breaking over you like a rush of warmth. Your body trembled in their embrace, your breaths mingling with theirs as they held you through every second, their hands offering steady reassurance as the sensations washed over you in gentle waves.
As you came down from your high, tears formed in your eyes from the overstimulation. You came all over their hands and linen for the 3rd time, biting your lips in pleasure.
They put you down slowly on the bed, then both sat right in front of you on their knees. Their cocks were dripping continuously with precum, hard and throbbing, waiting for action.
“Goddammit… you look so pretty like this. Teary eyes.. all fucked out and flushed and we didn't even fuck you yet. Yunho, isn't she perfect like this? Imagine her after we fuck her… oh god.” San said, carresing your cheek as he wiped off some tears.
Yunho’s eyes darkened, a low, breathless chuckle escaping his lips as he took in the sight of you, utterly captivated. He ran his fingers along your trembling jawline, thumb grazing over your lips. “Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” he murmured, voice laced with a deep, possessive edge. “But I don’t think I can wait any longer to see just how beautiful you’ll look after… Come here.”
He stood, pulling you gently toward the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. “Right here," he instructed, his gaze commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. "Let’s see just how pretty you can be for us.”
He raised his brow at his cock, but backed off for a second. He looked at you, and then at San.
San smirked as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with intensity as he took in the sight of you kneeling so prettily on the edge of the bed, exactly where he wanted you. One knee pressed beside your thigh, he leaned in close, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he lifted his hand toward your lips.
Keeping steady eye contact, he raised his brows and tilted his head slightly. “Open,” he instructed softly, his voice commanding yet gentle, coaxing you to follow his lead. As your lips parted, he slipped two fingers past them, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. “Good girl. Now, close around them… slowly, just like that.”
His fingers rested on your tongue, and he watched, completely focused, guiding you with a calm authority. “Suck, nice and easy," he whispered, his voice darkening, "let your tongue glide over them… there you go.” His eyes flickered with approval, and he leaned in just a little closer, his thumb brushing your chin as he murmured, “Show me how well you can listen.”
As you sucked on his fingers, coating them in your own saliva, he smiled at you, satisfied with your work. He then inserted one more finger, your tongue immediately moving and slurping around. After he was more than satisfied with it, he pulled out with a slight popping sound and backed off. He patted Yunho on the chest, who has been lazily stroking his length, looking at the two of you.
“Just in time.. I was going insane back here.” Yunho got closer to you, one of his hand tangling in your hair softly. “Open up, darling. Don't make me wait,” he said and tapped your lower lip with the tip of his cock, to which you opened your mouth and slowly took in his length. The corners of your lips stung as he slowly thrusted in your mouth, hurrying you to adjust to his size.
Yunho's breathing grew heavier as he watched you, his gaze dark and focused. Each slow movement seemed to be its own silent command, urging you to take more of him. His fingers tangled further in your hair, his grip firm yet tender.
You felt your cheeks hollow slightly as you adjusted to his size, your lips stretching around him in a way that sent a heated thrill through both of you. A soft whine slipped past your lips when he pulled back slightly, leaving you wanting more.
He chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “You feel so good, princess.." he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, though his eyes told a different story. You responded with a light hum, the vibrations adding to the tension building between you both. As his pace quickened, your hands found their way to his hips, steadying yourself as he guided you closer to his peak, mouth fucking you rapidly, feeling every corner of your mouth.
With one final, harsh thrust, Yunho’s breaths became uneven, his fingers tightening in your hair as his focus blurred, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. His low, rough voice spilled out in a shuddered exhale as he came. He looked down at you and nodded, urging you to slurp everything, “swallow, sweetheart.” and you did as told.
Just as you felt Yunho’s hand leave your hair, San took his place before you. He offered a playful smile.
Slowly, you welcomed him, the slight stretch challenging yet thrilling, but you never looked away. His hand reached forward as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, a silent promise of reassurance as he swept his thumb gently across your cheek. With each slow movement, his thumb remained there, resting on your face.
“Fuck.. you didn't lie at all, man…” his head lolled back, biting his lip, “when you said she feels good..”
San’s breaths quickened as he found a rhythm, but he kept his focus on you, reading every reaction, every subtle change in your expression. He couldn't wait anymore. He wanted to cum and that was it. His hand pushed your head on his cock, making you gag and slightly choke on it. As he did that a couple of times he came right down your throat, urging you to swallow his load. It took him a couple of moments to release everything, your eyes teary as he kept his cock down your throat until the end.
“Damn.. that was hot” Yunho said from behind, his cock hard again, heavy in his hand.
“Princess.. would you be able to endure one round of… both of us fucking you, hm?” Yunho said, both men standing in front of you, keeping eye contact. “I just can't wait for my turn, you know?” he continued.
“I-uh” you hesitated for a second, but smiled and nodded shyly, looking up at him.
“That's our girl, man… look at her. Already flushed and ravished, but still wants more? Such a good girl…” San said and pushed you on the bed, crawling under you. He held you close to his chest as he moved up slightly and rested his back against the headboard. Yunho came from behind and kneeled right behind you, his hands resting on your waist.
“Are you ready, love?” he said from behind, your eyes looking into San's, not knowing what to expect. You nodded, and San was the first one to act. He thrusted as slow as possible in your cunt, your hands gripping the headboard as he let you get accustomed to his size. A loud moan escaped your throat, words stuttering as he started to keep up on a pace. Yunho did the same after he let you get used to San and as he started to softly fuck you, your eyes teared up and drops of tears fell onto San's chest. He wiped them off, in awe of your reactions and fucked you. harshness betraying his neediness for you.
“Fuck, you're so tight…” he said and his hands drove up and down on your back, trying to soothe you.
San’s hand gently caressed your cheek as you locked eyes with him, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath you. His thumb traced over your cheekbone, wiping away any lingering tears "You’re incredible," he murmured softly, voice thick with admiration.
Behind you, Yunho’s hands remained anchored on your waist, fingers pressing into you in a grounding way. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His tone was a blend of awe and satisfaction, his voice rough but filled with warmth that made you feel completely safe.
As they both moved with you, their rhythm became an unspoken exchange, synchronized in a way that felt almost effortless. You could feel the tension building in each of them, both of them on the edge, breaths deepening as they drew nearer to their highs. San’s grip on your thighs tightened, his knuckles grazing your skin, grounding you both as he savored every second. Yunho’s hand slipped up your back in a soothing motion, his rough exhale brushing against your shoulder, each of them close to finishing.
As they fucked you for a couple of times, you came unannounced, your aching walls tightening around their cocks. Surprised, both San and Yunho came down from their high simultaneously, their huge loads filling both of your holes to the brim. They fucked you through your orgasms and slowly came down to a stop.
Yunho slowly pulled back, exhaling a long, satisfied breath. His hand lingered on your back for a moment, his thumb tracing gentle circles, grounding both of you in the moment. He offered you a soft, tender smile, cheeks flushed and breathing deeply. San's arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close to his chest as he settled back.
“You did so well,” Yunho murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple, his voice low and full of pride. His fingers brushed along your cheek with a feather-light touch, his gaze filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful, love… can’t believe how lucky we are.”
San pressed his lips to the top of your head, his grip tightening around you as he whispered, “Such a good girl.” His fingers traced soothing patterns along your back. “Every bit of you is incredible, you know that?”
The two of them exchanged a quiet smile over you, their gazes warm. They both leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, to your forehead, each one tender, grounding, letting you know how much you were cherished.
“Let's get you washed up, alright?” San said and lifted you, carrying you to the bathroom and placing you down.
“T-thank you.. it was in-incredible.” you finally managed to form a sentence, both boys looking contently in your eyes. They smiled at your words and San gave you a hand, holding you tight while the taller one turned on the shower.
NETWORKS:
@blossomnet
@illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @peachy-bell26 @memorabxlia @atiny1
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revelboo · 3 days ago
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I'm in love with the way you portray Jazz, and there just so little writing for him.
I was wondering if I could request another part for Jazz or IDW Starscream 🙏 your fics are giving me life. I check Tumblr every day hoping for more!
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Over It Now Pt 10
IDW Jazz x Reader
• It’s such a little thing, nothing really, but when you start reaching out to him, it’s like a weight lifted from his shoulders. Asking him how his day was. How it really was, not letting him just smile and play it off. Encouraging him to be real even if it leaves him vulnerable and it means so much to him, even as he can’t let go of that mask just yet. There’s still the fear that if he does, you won’t like what’s underneath. Maybe if you see all the frustration and anger just under the surface, you’ll finally refuse to sit with him altogether. So he keeps the smile in place, keeps joking, but at night before you disappear inside to sleep, he sings for you in Cybertronian everything he wants to say, but is too afraid to. He bleeds out the poison night by night, needing the warmth of you against him so he doesn’t drown in it, because there’s so much.
• “You’re quiet today,” you say, studying the big Autobot. And that unusually somber expression is gone in a twist of a sly smile. Playing that part again, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it once did. After that night, you almost feel like you understand that his smile is sometimes all that’s holding him together, because when he sings? Even though you can’t understand a word of it, there’s anguish and hope and fury all twisted together in that haunting voice. It cuts you straight to the bone, hurts you, but you just curl against him and let him sing. Because as much as it hurts you, to keep all that inside must be slowly killing him.
• “Just thinking, doll,” he says, a shoulder lifting in a shrug. Not entirely a lie, though worrying might be a better word. They’d found a viable energon mine, but so had the Decepticons. The same mine. Bumblebee had reported seeing Ravage skulking about. It’s not like he hadn’t known the war would eventually boil over again, but both sides are so starved for energon, he’d thought this uneasy truce might last just a bit longer while they replenished their stores. And worst of all, that mine is far too close to your home, to the nearby city. He’s already started setting up a space for you in his quarters, knowing you’re going to hate him for it, but if fighting breaks out? He can’t leave you here. He can’t lose you. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”
• Watching him drum a servo nervously against his thigh, you know he’s lying, but you make yourself let it go. He’d promised to not lie about the big stuff and while he lies as easily as you breathe, you’d believed his serious tone that night. The same night he’d first sang and then pulled you into his arms while you cried for him. Just thinking about makes you feel unsettled, like there’s something hanging right between you both, just out of reach. Something that if you try to take it, will shift everything between you and you don’t want to risk what you have. He’s frustrating and you can’t trust half of what he says, but he does make you laugh. He makes you happy.
• “I have to worry,” you say, eyes so serious as you lean on your crutches and look up at him. “Because you won’t.” Oh, kitten, you have no idea how he worries, but he smiles crookedly, reaching out to gently tap you on the nose with a servo. Playing the clueless, goof even as anxiety eats him alive and you swat at his servo without any real heat. Just like you have no idea how much you mean to him, how much he’ll sacrifice to protect that feeling of peace you bring him and to protect you.
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zepskies · 2 days ago
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@lamentationsofalonelypotato
Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅
Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...
LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣
I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."
I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.
I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.
LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅
You just wanna go:
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Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.
That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙
Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.
Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).
Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.
Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.
Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.
His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.
Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙
She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.
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Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)
This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.
Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.
Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀
Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜
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Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣
Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓
Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣
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I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.
Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.
And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.
LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂
Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.
Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.
Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂
Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:
I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.
Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:
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Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂
It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊
Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕
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Devour Me - Part 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 
Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)
AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1
Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭
Word Count: 5,400
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
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Part 2: "Telenovela Style"
Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.
Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 
Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 
No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.
Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 
When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 
He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 
“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.
“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”
In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 
Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.
The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 
By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 
Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 
You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.
The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 
He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 
You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 
You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 
Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 
“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 
Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”
Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 
“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 
You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.
“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 
“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 
Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 
“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”
His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.
“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”
Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 
“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 
You truly become incensed at that. 
“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 
You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.
“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?
You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 
Dean calls your name in frustration. 
“What?” you hiss. 
The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 
You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 
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Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.
You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.
After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 
You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.
What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 
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That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 
Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 
You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 
He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.
So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 
He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.
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In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 
What the fuck?
After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 
Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.
At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.
He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.
“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 
It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 
Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 
“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 
Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”
You give him a wry look.
“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 
But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 
You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  
Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.
He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.
“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”
You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 
“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 
“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 
“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”
You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.
“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”
That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 
Dangerous, for both of us.
You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 
And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 
“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 
“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 
Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.
“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”
You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.
“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 
The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 
It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 
More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”
He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 
Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.
You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”
Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 
“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 
“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 
“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”
Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”
You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.
“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  
But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 
Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 
“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.
It’s then that you know you’ve won.
So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 
You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  
Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.
“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”
Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 
When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”
A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.
But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  
“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.
“What’s this one?” Dean asks.
“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 
This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 
“What does it mean?” he asks.
You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”
Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 
You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 
“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”
Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.
As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.
“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”
Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 
You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 
“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 
You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”
You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 
He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.
“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”
You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 
“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.
“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 
You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 
You stop him with your finger on his lips.
“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 
“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 
“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”
Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”
You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 
You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 
After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 
Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.
He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  
A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 
“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.
So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 
And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 
A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.
He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.
You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.
Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)
You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 
“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 
“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.
Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.
Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 
“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 
You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 
“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”
Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 
Oh, fuck yeah. 
A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 
Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 
Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.
Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 
So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.
And suddenly, he blinks them open again.
“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 
You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 
He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 
You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 
Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 
He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 
“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”
He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  
“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”
A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 
“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.
Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...
“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.
It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.
Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.
“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 
Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”
A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”
At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.
“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”
Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 
Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.
You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 
“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 
His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 
“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”
You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.
But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 
“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”
When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  
So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  
However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 
It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 
“Damn it, Dean!”
You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 
“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”
Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”
“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 
Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 
But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 
When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.
Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.
I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 
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AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️
Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:
(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)
[During their fight]: 
“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Translation:
“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”
[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”
Translation:
“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”
Keep Reading:
Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):
Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.
▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)
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emeritusemeritus · 2 days ago
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Masquerade: you can fool any friend who ever knew you. [Fred Weasley]
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**This is part 2 to a request you can find HERE**
Title: Masquerade, you can fool any friend who ever knew you.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x SarcasticHufflepuff!Reader {Idiots in love}
Timeline: Non-specified/ non-canon event.
Summary: Following Hogwarts’ anniversary masquerade ball, will Fred ever find the mystery woman he’s longing for, and can you, his best friend with a light crush on him, survive it?
*Updated Warnings: Unrequited love, idiots in love, friends to lovers all the usual divine tropes. Happy ending I promise. Minor sexual references, 1 mention of masturbation, George fancies Angelina. Slight angst? We have a massive crush on Freddie. Bonus points for anyone who knows where the title is from. Kissing, love confessions. Did I just write 5k words and none of it was smut?! There’s a mention of Paedophilia in the form of a passing age related joke*
Word count: 1.8k
Thank you to my wonderful Anon who inspired this two part fic with their brilliant request. This story flowed out of me and I was unable to stop writing. Did I cry writing this? Definitely Maybe 🖤
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It was mid-afternoon and you were walking from charms when you felt a paper bird fly into your shoulder, confusing you as there was virtually no one around. You'd stayed behind after class with Flitwick to go over some extra work you'd asked for to boost your grade and became throughout confused at the random paper. Opening it, you couldn't help but smile, seeing Fred awful handwriting littering the inside.
'Little Badger- My dorm, 8pm?'
You knocked on the door, waiting for his signal for you to enter and walked into the dorm with a smile on your face, pausing once you noticed that George wasn't there.
"Where George?"
"Well I'm offended," Fred says, giving you blank look, "where's bloody George, am I not good enough now? Also hello."
"Hello trouble," you say, walking over to hop onto Fred's bed, instantly lying down on the surprisingly comfy and tidy bed. You squeal as you feel him jump in beside you, the tiny beds making you think that Fred would be jumping on you but he surprises you by scooting over to allow you to just lay beside him.
"What did you want to do?" You ask, turning your head towards him.
"Hmm?" He asks, half as if he's not listening and the other half as if he doesn't understand.
"You asked me here, what have you got planned?"
"Nothing really, just wanted to see you. It's not a crime is it?" He smirks, eyes soft.
"Only if you're a paedophile," you say bluntly, watching with glee as his eyes bulge and he bursts out a laugh at the dark joke.
"Rotten woman," he mumbles, earning a half-arsed shove on the shoulder as you smile at him.
"Fancy a nap?" You say, eyes closing as you find a comfy spot on the bed.
"How old are you?" He asks tauntingly, preparing to tease you over the need for a little sleep.
You open one eye, looking straight towards him with a smirk on your face, "do you really want me to make the paedo joke again?"
His hands instantly come out to tickle your sides and you beg for mercy as you squirm, almost falling off the bed in the close quarters a few times before he relents.
"Let's go to the kitchens," he suggests.
"Or.. let's take a nap."
"Astronomy tower?"
"Orrrrr a nap?"
"Bloody hell woman how tired are you? I'm offering a romantic date with food and a view, not to mention the giant squid, and all you want to do is to sleep!"
Despite your eyes remaining closed, you'd never felt more awake at the word 'date' so casually slipping from his mouth, a fire in your tummy beginning to ignite the very thought. You try to think of something to say, anything, in reply but you can't, all words failing you completely until you bring up the one topic you didn't want to talk about.
"Not sure your mystery woman would approve," you joke, though there's no real humour in your words. Fred snorts and you open your eyes to see him frowning off into the distance.
"Given up on her already?" You say, digging a little deeper, intrigued by his curious reaction. You watch as he frowns, turning his head slowly to look at you, eyes softening slightly the longer that he stares.
"Let's go to the black lake."
"Are you going to drown me?"
"What? No," he says in concern at your words.
"Alright, lead the way then Weasley."
It's bloody freezing when you reach the edge of the lake, the wind whipping through the trees like it's trapped between the tree line and the school, making you fight off a chill.
"Here, have my robes," Fred offers, his fingers reaching for the fastening.
"No Freddie I'm fine, you'll be freezing," you say, reaching up for his hand to stop him untying it.
He pauses, your hand still resting on his as he looks into your eyes, a soft smile ghosting his face.
"You haven't called me Freddie in ages."
"Sorry," you say, averting your gaze and pulling your hand away but he stops you, grabbing your hand and holding it in his. You see how his gaze diverts to your entwined fingers but you don't say anything, opting instead to take a deep, steadying breath.
"Your hands are freezing," he observes, his fingers squeezing yours gently.
"Yours are warm," you hum in return.
Suddenly, he looks up at you again with a questioning gaze, like he's looking into your soul.
"I want to try something," he says, not glancing away. You simply nod, hardly trusting your voice in the moment as you let him adjust you however he wants.
His right hand slips around your waist, the heat from his skin penetrating yours immediately, warming your side and yourself. You can barely breathe, you're certain he's never been this close to you before. You watch as he follows his hand with his eyes, gripping your waist with his long fingers before trailing his eyes up to your entwined hands. His gaze then trails up to your face and you look at him with an expression that you hope is neutral but is probably very far from it.
He starts to spin you on the rocky shoreline of the black lake, the two of you dancing under the moonlight without any music. It's beautiful and bittersweet all at the same time.
“It was you.”
"It was you," he repeats, sounding breathless, slowing his footwork only slightly. You frown, brows knitting together at his words, completely lost at what he was accusing you of.
"That night, at the ball, it was you."
"Freddie it wasn't me," you say quietly, your emotions bubbling to the surface, finding it too hard to deny any longer under his gaze. "I wanted it to be you that I danced with, I wanted it to be me that you wanted. I looked for you but... it wasn't me Fred."
Tears begin to well up in your eyes but you don't feel upset anymore; you think this is the last step in your grief, the acceptance. You knew that with one simple lie you could have Fred Weasley for yourself, that everything you'd ever wanted was right at your fingertips but you couldn't do it. Not to yourself and especially not to Fred.
"But you were there, it could have been you," he says with determination. Did he want it to be you? You reluctantly shake your head, wishing more than anything that it was.
"The guy I danced with had black hair," you say, wanting to break the gaze but finding it impossible. You feel a pang of sadness when he chuckles, head thrown back with a humourless laugh that makes your stomach lurch. He'd realised that it wasn't you after all. He pulls away from you and your heart breaks just a little bit more.
"You mean like this?" He asks, pulling out his wand and pointing it directly at his head. You scramble to get him to stop whatever he's doing but you're rendered completely silent when you watch with wide eyes and mouth agape as he casts a spell you don't know that immediately turns his fiery locks pitch black.
A sob escapes you as you look at him, hardly recognising the boy you'd loved forever seeing him with black hair, realising that it must have been him.
It really was him.
"There's about 6 people in this school with red hair and 4 of them are Weasleys, kind of defeats the point of being anonymous doesn't it," he says with a smirk. You're gobsmacked, still doubting what's in front of you.
"It really was you? The orange waistcoat with the gold stars?" You say, trying to pull the memory of the mystery man as clearly as you can.
"If you look in my wardrobe right now I can promise you it's hanging there," he says, pocketing his wand, the boyish smile returning to his lips.
"And my dress?" You ask, waiting for the moment he'd describe it wrong and this whole dream would slip away from you.
"Could kill a man," he says with a smirk, trying to calm your apparent nerves and denial. He describes it in near perfect detail, including your mask. You're breathless, lip quivering as you realise that it's really real.
"You believe me?" He asks, slowly moving forward. You nod, unable to find your voice.
"You trust me?"
You nod with more enthusiasm, never doubting your trust in him for a second.
He smirks, moving forward and you reluctantly hold out for hand to stop him, his smirk fading from his face instantly.
"Whatever happens next isn't happening until you look like you again," you say through a laugh, your eyes lighting up as he laughs too having forgotten about the black hair. He pulls out his wand and with a single effortless flick, he's Fred again.
This time he doesn't ask for permission, it's all in your eyes, the welcoming, the love. His hand grabs yours and he slowly pulls you into him, his right hand sliding onto your waist whilst his left hand tucks it self under your chin. There's a moment that passes as you look into each other's eyes where nothing else exists outside of the two of you. His eyes flick down to your lips as his fingers lift your chin ever so slightly whilst he begins to lean down.
His lips feel like pure magic against yours. It's like finding that perfect wand at Ollivanders that has chosen you, completely in sync and connected through a force invisible to the human eye.  You give in to the kiss without a second thought, allowing him to dominate the kiss, his tongue sliding deliciously against your own, the comfort of his pillowy soft lips nearly taking your breath away. It's everything you could have ever imagined and you can't imagine for a single moment from here that you could ever be without it again.
He pulls away eventually and you look up at him with shining eyes, tears of happiness welled up in your eyes at the years of torment finally absolved. He looks at you like he never has before, it's full of love, full of adoration.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he admits with a chuckle that makes you snort at his stupid words.
"I'd wager that I have some idea."
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junoberrii · 2 days ago
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I desperately want to try writing again but it takes such a large amount of time and I always end up unsatisfied :( I know I’ll like it once I get into the groove but damn if it’s not stupid hard to start
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britt-kageryuu · 2 days ago
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It's very much likely because I've been reading alot of Monkie Kid fan fics, but what if the concept of Courtnapping, exists in Yokai Culture in Rise TMNT?
It would make sense, since we know next to nothing about Yokai in Rise.
Plus it kinda fits what happened with Splinter/Lou Jitsu/Yoshi Hamato, Big Mama kinda courtnapped him, but then probably freaked out about her instincts, aka might eat him, so she tossed him to the arena to show him off... kinda.(?)
Then Draxum, under the self induced excuse of using Lou for his experiments, courtnaps Lou to his lab.
But things went wrong because no one is really explaining this stuff to Splints, and he escaped with his newly acquired Turtle Children.
Now fast forward to when the Turtles are at least mid teens, post Kraang/Krang, and they keep having odd interactions with the Yokai of the Hidden City. Maybe an attempted Courtnapping or two.
So they either go to Hueso or Draxum to learn WTF is Going On!!! (They will never go to Big Mama because she'd make them take a deal or owe a favor or something.)
The Turtles definitely have mixed reactions to learning these new things about Yokai culture. Though whoever they go to is slightly confused/concerned on why they don't already know this stuff.
From here it all just depends on if there are any specific pairings with the Turtles. Like adding crossovers, dimensional travel, ect, ect.
Like maybe one the turtles get the urge to courtnap someone, maybe they have to save April from being courtnapped, unless it's Cass, then they're like 'Good Luck Sis', because Cass is scary.
Though the image of someone trying to courtnap Raph is more funny than it should be. This is how Raph may fall for the person, or just gain a slight crush.
I have a partially scraped LMK/Rise crossover where the whole courtnapping thing is brought up, and they wonder if by some demon/yokai law, Big Mama and Splinter are technically married, but not officially. I just haven't bothered to write it out because I keep getting stuck on exposition and like little to no plot!
The amount of times I've typed Courtnap/Courtnapped/Courtnapping, and how not weird it sounds now is interesting if weird.
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archerdepartures116 · 8 hours ago
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omg i have another lqg hc (if ur lqg hc ask thingy is still open): so basically lqg is actually book smart, like really book smart, almost-rivaling-sj's-own-skills book smart. and one time the sect leader forced them to hang out, and that's when sj realized maybe lqg isn't as stupid as he thought, so they kind of form a friendship over that. but then sj gets a qi deviation, and bc lqg and sj are kinda friends lqg goes to visit him with nerd level books for both of them but sqq has temporary amnesia (idk) and like chews lqg out about him thinking he's stupid or something, and then lqg just really hates him after that because he thought they were friends and is just really confused as well, and that's actually how their enmity started extra: sj remembers their friendship thing afterwards and is like "fuck fuck fuck;" then remembers that technically lqg is hella smart, he's just really lazy, and just kinda doesn't know what to do with himself for being the only one who knows lqg's secret for weeks afterwards
it would be really sad it they had something nice going and it just ends
sj can't have anything nice huh
(Ik i said i wouldn't draw any more of these but I thought of this and maybe someone could write it into a fic heheh I would read the shit out of it)
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akamitrani · 2 days ago
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Pls may you write an oneshort about F!reader treating Art's wounds after the fight with Sienna from Terrifier 3? I'm cravin that so badly rn, I'll leave the plot settings to you, tysmmm 😭😭
— Mercy —
Art the Clown x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mention of blood, wounds, struggle, contains spoiler.
Summary: Art is injured and vulnerable. The reader, unknowingly crossing his path, stumbles upon him and makes an unexpected choice.
[A/N: A oneshot, short as requested. Tried making this a slight fluff, hope you like it. Also I must note, in this fic I pretend for a hot minute that he wasn't just slashed in his neck in the movie ☠️ Thank you for your request!]
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Bleeding and battered, Art the Clown stumbled away from Sienna's house. His body ached from the fight, but his relentless drive kept him moving, his twisted grin still in place despite the pain.
He didn't look back as he fled into the first path he saw, leaving the chaos of the house behind him.
The alley was dark as he sprang towards it, leaving a trail of blood on the ground. Art staggered forward, his usual grin now marred by pain, clutching his side where Sienna's blade had torn through.
Each step was a struggle, he fought to stay upright as he round the corner, his legs suddenly threatened to give way beneath him and he collapsed against a brick wall for support.
Then, he saw you.
[ · · · ]
The night air was cool as you stepped out of work, tired but eager to head home. As you walked down the quiet street, something caught your eye – a dark, glistening trail on the pavement. Blood?
Curious and hesitant, you followed the trail, someone could be needing help and couldn't just ignore it. It led you to this alleyway. The trail grew thicker as you walked further, the air heavy, an unsettling stillness.
There, slumped against the wall, was the figure of a clown. His white face was twisted with pain, his costume stained with fresh blood. His head lifted slightly at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes locking with yours.
You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide as you recognized him. Art tried to lunge, a feeble attempt to reach you, but his legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees, gasping, his hand outstretched but powerless. He tried to push himself up again but his arms gave out this time, leaving him sprawled on the cold concrete.
You could have run. But instead, something inside you shifted. For a moment he looked almost pitiful, like a wounded animal too stubborn to die. The murderous glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something akin to desperation. Someone did need help, right? – With this in mind you took a step closer, cursing yourself mentally, this is fucking insane.
“If you try anything...” – you whispered to him – “I won’t hesitate.”
For the first time, Art’s grin faded, replaced by a flicker of something else – maybe curiosity? maybe disbelief? – as if he was trying to process the fact that someone, for once, wanted to help him. He simply stared, watching you, as you knelt beside him.
You stared at the wounded clown, every instinct screaming to run, but instead, you pulled a small first aid kit from your bag. Art’s eyes followed your every move, dark and unblinking, as you pressed a cloth to his bleeding side. He flinched but didn’t resist, allowing you to wrap a makeshift bandage around him, surrendering to your mercy.
“There, that should help” – you murmured, your voice unsteady but assuring.
Art’s response was unexpected – a bloodstained finger gently brushed your cheek, leaving a streak of crimson. His touch was surprisingly soft, not the brutal force you had feared.
Your breath caught, the alley around you disappearing as you locked eyes with him. It felt like a silent acknowledgment, a brief moment where he actually seemed grateful.
Pulling his hand away, Art gave a slight nod. It was a gesture so out of character that it left you stunned.
His grin returned and he pushed off of the wall, onto his feet, his movements less sluggish. The blood loss no longer a problem it seems. He glanced at you, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that almost made him seem human.
He reached into the deep, black bag he always carried with him, his fingers brushing against something. Scared he might pull a weapon you step back... to your surprise, he pulls out a single, dark rose. The petals were blackened at the edges, but still, it was a rose – oddly beautiful. With a slow, deliberate motion, he offered it to you, his eyes locking with yours.
You took the flower from him, bewildered by the strange act of kindness. Art’s lips curled into a big smile, the playfulness in his eyes lingering for just a moment before he turned and disappeared into the shadows. No goodbyes.
The night engulfed him whole, leaving you there with the rose and the memory of the clown who, just for a brief moment, had shown something like... tenderness.
Well – somehow, your act of kindness had spared you... At least for tonight.
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