#parts of it just didn't want to be written

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[ybklix]

the touch

PART THREE OF THE PROJECT 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ part one 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ part two ★ pairing: dom!bangchan x inexperiencedfem!reader

✦summary: Every time you and Chan meet again, you explore a new world of experiences, and this is especially true when he is very needy but shows it in his own way.

♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, college au, grinding, spanking, pet names (dreg too), dirty talk, teasing, clitplay, oral sex, face fucking, cum shoot, cum eating, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, slight breeding, aftercare!

word count: 10.3k

masterlist - taglist

♡ songs: railway by bang chan / everyday by ariana grande / nothing without you by the weeknd

wen’s note: tysm for +3k notes in the first part, that’s insane i luv yaa; edit: I lost all the written smut I had to rewrite it all, I was crying (real) edit two: im vibing now lmao

Everything looked better in Chan’s mind, after he had touched you twice which each time outweighed more and more the other, he believed for a moment that he would have it all, that everything would be from then on all about your sweet smell, nice dates, more quality time and just two stupidly tender people holding hands while walking around the campus, it was perfect, so perfect to be true that in reality it never happened that way.

After he dropped you off at your apartment, after the party and you tenderly and sweetly rested in his arms like he adored and wished it would happen every day, every day became hell for him, and he wasn’t exaggerating-or maybe a little, but he needed you, now, like never before, and not just sexually, he wanted to be genuinely close to you, to hear you talk and see you smile next to him; Chan thought that after the party would be the perfect time to ask you out, so he foolishly waited for the most fitting and cute moment he would treasure forever, but that didn't happen.

You just said:

“See you soon. Thanks.”

And you leaned in to give him a quick, shy kiss on the lips that fascinated him and took him by surprise, because if he had expected it he would have taken you more passionately and tenderly in a real kiss, and you just said goodbye to him like that before walking into your apartment and leaving him rambling in the hallway. Chan had to visit his family because it was Sunday so you understood perfectly and offered to let him drop you off at your apartment, but he didn’t want to leave you alone and if it were up to him he would already take you to meet his parents, he was feeling kind of intense with you, truly believing there was a huge fire between you, but decided to give you your space since you wanted to relax after your first club experience. Chan couldn’t believe that maybe it was your first experience at all and he was giving it to you, it was driving him crazy. You talked by text, but he refused to ask you out via text having the opportunity to tell you in person while seeing your sweet face. But did he really have that chance?

Unfortunately that see you soon wasn’t so soon. Chan was losing his mind, the first week he took it lightly, he had forgotten one thing you were very serious about, weeks of exams and heavier work, so he understood your aloofness, every time he approached you after class was over it was the same. “Oh, I’ll go study with Sam, do you want to come?” “I’ll be busy studying,” “I have a project due.”

Chan would reject the offer to go with your friends because he felt shy. He wished that somehow it could just be him and you, together. But he finally got up the courage to meet your friend, and one thing he noticed was that you really took college seriously. You ended up exhausted and quiet, and he could only see you and have you from afar because, due to his bad luck, he never found time alone with you.

He was fine. He was trying to convince himself of that, that soon you could be together and he would not distract you in something he knows is very important for you just because of his silly dream of living a romance with you, of being able to kiss you and touch you, he was not a high school kid anymore, he understood perfectly that both of you were studying your professional career for your future.

But weeks went by and he was getting crazy and tedious, he needed you, it was enough just to try you twice, now you were a drug for him and he couldn't do anything, he couldn’t take you by the arm and take you to a place alone, separating you from your friend because he wanted to look like the sweet boy who was worth it when she was around.

At first it was sweet, when he sat next to you to supposedly study but didn’t memorize a single term for thinking about you, Chan would play with his pencil, watching you deftly type on your laptop and gently rub the bridge of your nose freeing them for a few seconds from the grip of your glasses, while he imagined a lot of cheesy things, like those married couples who usually say they met in college, taking you shopping, walking on the beach with you, to take your mind off all the work you were doing and de-stress a little.

However, something in him changed slightly, his looks were heavier and more penetrating, almost eating you with his eyes because it was evident that you were awakening even his greatest fantasies. He wondered how you didn't notice.

You were doing so well, you were so focused on your studies that sometimes you forgot the presence of those around you, that you almost forgot Chan. After that encounter you didn’t know what the next move was, you were a little scared so one of the perfect excuses was to always be busy, when in reality you cared so much about having so little experience. On the lonely nights, you wondered what if he wanted more -which you also wanted so badly- but he caught you being once again inexperienced, so besides physics you tried to study the great world of sex, reading and watching on the internet the perfect techniques, feeling insecure that maybe another college girl had already given him the best oral sex of his life and you were still scared.

Not only were the heavy and hectic exam weeks approaching, but Chan was starting to get busier with his soccer training so it wasn’t now possible to see you as often, even though he was losing his mind, you both had to get on with your lives.

Chan was so desperate, that like a man in distress, he asked for advice from one of his best friends who he knew would take him seriously on the matter of being genuinely interested in you.

“You fucked her and you haven’t asked her out on a date? Fuck off man, maybe she’ll think you definitely didn’t take her seriously.”

“Okay, you were supposed to help me Changbin, what the fuck was that?”

“I’m just telling the truth. Why did you wait so long? Even a simple dinner after your study sessions or something.”

“But I want it to be cuter and more perfect than that, plus I still keep her close and text her every day, she should know I’m serious.”

His friend softly shook his head.

“And why do you keep your distance, huh? Even the smallest, most improvised thing will be the most romantic thing when there’s something between you, stop being controlling for a moment.”

Chan laughed softly, continuing his walk around the campus.

“Seo Changbin, quite the romantic” Chan joked looking at him with a mischievous smile, “Since when are you an expert? Last I heard you are absolutely bitchless.”

Changbin raised his shoulders first feeling a compliment and then an attack, “Hey! fuck you, man, I’ll make my move with Chaeryeong soon, I swear” he joked, taking a drink of his water and suddenly pointing to the front. “Hey, isn’t that Y/n?” Chan looked at once to where his friend pointed, “Who’s she with?”

Chan’s smile collapsed in seconds and his mature ideology of leaving you and giving you your space ended when he saw you in the distance smiling shyly at a boy as you both sat on the grass under a tree.

“I’ll go talk to her. I’ll see you back at the house” Chan coldly warned Changbin to approach you without taking his eyes off you for a second.

Chan’s thoughts began to cloud over… why was a guy out of nowhere approaching you? Almost a month of not being able to be alone with you because you were creating excuses of which didn’t discourage him for a moment because Chan felt and saw in you that you still wanted to have him around… for a stranger to be sweetly sitting next to you as if you were about to have a nice picnic. Please be a gay guy, Chan thought internally.

You both immediately felt Chan’s presence in front of you, you felt something tender and sweet knowing it was him, you smiled being happy to see him…. but it was inevitable not to see him completely from that angle, you were sitting on the floor and he was in front of you, wearing comfortable and sporty clothes, from head to toe, every garment was black, sneakers, socks, his shorts and his black sleeveless shirt tight to his muscular body, his arms looked more toned, with his visible veins and his pale shoulders and neck shined slightly covered in his sweat; his big pectorals stood out as he had across his body his backpack. You tried to hide with a tender smile how incredibly turned on you were getting watching him from below with his perfect body and handsome sweaty face. You knew his schedule perfectly, he had just left the gym.

“Hey, Chan.”

“Hey,” he waved his hand in a fake high-pitched tone, “I was already on my way home so I was passing by the campus but I saw you.”

You let out a nervous giggle, quickly glancing back at his body, he looked so good. He put his hands on his hips and you appreciated his arms and fingers more…. his long veiny fingers, you needed him all of a sudden, watching porn at night trying to study a little about sex, which you knew wasn’t the most viable and the most true, it only made you arouse your sexual desire more, and more towards Chan, one of the best-looking guys in college and you could have him to yourself, you hadn’t been touched in weeks, you hadn’t had a nice interaction with him in a while, you needed him and missed him, you thought about it all the time but seeing him just like this unleashed in you a voracious appetite to have him.

“Ah, you just got out of the gym, right?”

He nodded, “And Sam?”

“Ah, she’s not here because I’m on my tutoring time.”

Chan ran his tongue along his cavity, annoyed. Thinking it was unbelievable that every time he was with you your friend was there but just now she was letting you have alone time but with another guy.

“Oh, I see. We haven’t met… I’m Bang Chan, by the way,” Chan addressed the guy to the side of you.

Chan got angrier that he couldn’t say anything else, that he couldn’t assert authority by introducing himself since there was nothing else to say, you and him were still friends and he couldn’t claim you as his girlfriend. He was jealous. Besides that the guy was an attractive guy, with straight black hair, a manly young face, pretty eyes, and a pronounced cute nose.

“Yang Jeongin.”

Jeongin watched Chan, intimidated and was surprised to see the confidence in which a very popular guy in a fraternity would approach you as he never believed you had that kind of friendships, he thought you were a pretty, sweet and tender girl studying physics, shy and nerdy.

“Oh, he’s a year younger than us, I’m teaching him a little.”

“Outside, like having a picnic? Why not in the study hall?” interrupted Chan, obviously annoyed.

His tone of voice shook you, he looked so attractive when it was obvious he was jealous. It was obvious that the two of you wanted each other intensely, why wait so long to meet again?

“Jeongin suggested lying in the grass for a bit, breathe some air…” you said somewhat shyly, looking into his dark, narrowed eyes.

You needed to touch that grass, how horny you were getting just looking at him wasn’t healthy. You wanted his cock in your mouth, you thought it must feel so good there.

“Oh, so you do whatever Jeongin suggests now?” he mumbled to himself, “I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t go home so late and anything, call me, please. Let me know when you’re home.”

Chan gave you a tender smile and delicately untangled your hair by passing it amicably over your head. You turned your head to watch him leave and hoped he wasn’t angry… besides one thing he would do would be to stay with you until Jeongin left. You sighed, you needed him and that friendly gesture only confused you more.

[…]

And without realizing it, time passed incredibly fast. A month had passed since the last time Chan had touched you, the last time the two of you shared something as intimate as a kiss or a hug. You were coping well, as you remembered him when you came home tired to your apartment and faintly thought about him until you fell asleep, but he was getting more and more desperate, he was finally dying to talk to you but somehow you were appearing less and less in his life.

You were still tutoring Jeongin two days a week - and earning money for it. Still Chan kept a close eye on him, as it was obvious that the boy was showing signs of a crush on you.

And you knew exactly that it had been a month because you were so preciously treasuring the date when you finally had sex. So for the first time you got a little distracted from class and saw him in the distance, his manly presence and beautifully sculpted side profile, you bit your lip, thinking that you should be the one to approach him now because you needed him and you couldn’t wait any longer.

When the class was over you wanted to go after him right away with no plan other than to talk to him, but he had already gone ahead in leaving the place, losing sight of him and leaving you with a strange feeling. Still, that didn’t discourage you, you would go looking for him later, so you had a plan. Finally the afternoon came, you knew the time when he finished his soccer practice, so you decided to surprise him by showing up there.

You felt strange, alone near the bleachers in the soccer field area, you bit your lip looking for Chan, and doubted if it would have been better to send him a message to know if he would be there.

Chan was just finishing his practice when he spotted you in the distance, a huge smile forming on his face. You felt strange, like all the little things you didn't experience in high school you were doing it now, like waiting for the cute guy after his soccer practice, but it was a thousand times better, at least now because the heavy projects, exams, and stressful life of a college student is not ideal, but it was better because you were both adults, Chan was all man who knew exactly what to do and the best part, you lived all alone, you had all the autonomy of your place, so that was exactly your plan, to invite him to your apartment to have some alone time again.

You saw him approach you and for a second you never thought you would be that kind of girl… but you were for Chan and it was worth it, he was cute with you by message and in real life.

“Hey there” Chan greeted you, surprising you and putting you in a good mood.

Once again, he was slightly drenched in sweat, making you nervous at how good he looked even like that, with his forehead vein popping. He was pleased and surprised to see you there, you wore a tender smile and shy presence so he deduced that it was a good thing, that the idea made him blush.

“Hey, Chan… what are you doing tomorrow?”

He was slightly out of breath, “You came all this way to find out?” he played a little, “Tomorrow? I’ll have the game, you have to come, remember?” he said without thinking and then he read your expression and how your slight intentions were off, so now he said more concerned, “Oh, but why? What's wrong?”

He suddenly feared that he had made a mistake, for the first time you showed up there near his space and he was not available, Chan reproached himself for his answer, but it was true that he could not miss the game, but if it was that you wanted to see him then he could dedicate the day before and after the event to you.

You didn’t want it to end like that, not all of a sudden, just resigning yourself. After all, you and Chan needed a very good reward for all the time you didn’t get to spend together, feeling each other’s touch, it was time to help each other and release the stress of the frustrating past weeks.

“Ah, yes yes yes. The game, I’ll be there. And what are you doing today…? Do you want to see a movie, have dinner, and stay at my place?” you mentioned the last sentence looking him in the eyes and almost seductively whispering the invitation.

It was Friday. For the first time, you postponed a project, all to spend more time with him. Chan raised his eyebrows and his smile widened. Wanting to think that there was a hidden message there and he just deciphered it. He was going to have you tonight and every hair on him rose in excitement.

“Aw… you’re inviting me to a sleepover?” he played, flirtatiously, slowly moving closer to you.

You nodded, shyly, “But bring your pajamas.”

He snickered.

“I will,” he replied, taking you after so long, by your waist, raising Chan's mood inexplicably at finally having you close, “Do you want me to pick up dinner when I go?”

He didn’t even know what he was talking about, he just wanted to have excuses to create time and hold your waist longer.

You shook your head, “No, let’s order when you’re at my place” you whispered, lost in him, you wanted to kiss him, so, so, so bad.

“It’s okay. How about if,” Chan checked his Apple watch for a second, “I get to your house at 7? I’ll go take a shower and be on my way.”

You nodded, humming in approval.

“Okay, baby… I see you, then” he whispered to you, both of you without the slightest intention of separating and creating tension.

But you played with him a little, waving goodbye and breaking the tension, you'd be about to see him.

For him, every second together, even with people around, was special, and he treasured it. But nothing compared to finally having your alone time, just you and him and whatever the night brings.

[…]

You were almost wandering around your apartment, thinking that everything is in order and you just kept wandering with uncertainty if what you had planned would work out or if it was a good thing to do, you looked down at your outfit, biting your lips a little nervously and before you could change your mind absolutely, the loud knock on your door almost startled you. Yes, you had given Chan absolute access to your apartment and yes, your plan was to act a little differently.

You mentally braced yourself before opening the door and just as you grabbed for your doorknob, you felt a little itch on the bridge of your nose, completely remembering that you were still wearing your glasses with your whole face with makeup on, you were supposed to wear your contacts but you were so used to the feeling of glasses in your eyes that you sometimes forgot they were there.

Finally, you opened it, leaving Chan breathless just like the last time, a little over a month ago, when he saw you wearing that tight black dress exactly standing behind your door frame, but this time you were wearing a tight and cute pink corset with a tight and tiny miniskirt and, your dirty little secret, was that you weren’t wearing anything underneath this one.

“Wow, you look… beautiful. What’s the occasion? Were you expecting us to go out somewhere?” he spoke, engrossed, looking you up and down.

You looked at Chan, you had no words to describe how much you liked him and how great he looked.

“Not really… I just wanted to dress like this” you replied letting it go, “Do you like it? Make yourself comfortable, do you want anything?”

“I love it” he replied, licking his lips and taking shy steps to the couch in your living room, “Mmm… a coke, it’s okay if you have any or just water.”

Chan left his bag in your foyer. You blushed. You could see his face and hear his soft tone perfectly as he complimented you. Chan almost trembled in nervousness. Seeing you like that just made him shy somehow. Finally being alone, not having touched you, and seeing you wearing something so sexy and provocative that he wasn’t even remotely used to seeing you wear didn’t help him much. He was getting more and more unhinged, but he had to play it cool.

He followed your walk to the kitchen with his gaze, looking slightly cheeky at your silhouette until he lost sight of you and he came across something so dazzling that he let out a soft sigh, the small sight of your bare bottom that barely covered that skirt as you swayed your hips. Chan stretched his arms out towards the couch, licking his lips again this time biting his tongue a little and returning his gaze to the front… thinking that seeing you like this could only have one reason - or at least he was looking forward to it - you were looking to seduce him that night, you were looking for his touch and for more sweet sex after so much; plus his dirty, dark thoughts were triggered by visualizing the image of you wearing tiny panties, a thong, or not wearing anything… or why your ass was exquisitely exposed, at least a small part of it. Chan loved it, loved the little seconds he saw of your ass that drove him crazy, he wanted to aggressively squeeze your skin with passion, making it red.

While you were only focused on one thing, act bolder, bolder, bolder, you wanted to drop the shyness for once and for all, you wanted to take Chan and have him do it too, you wanted to feel that spark between the two of you again and have him give you constant affirmation that what you feel is mutual and exclusive, you wanted him for yourself, you couldn’t take it anymore.

Walking without your panties on and approaching him to initiate something obviously more risqué, hot and sexual, was one of the bold moves you could think of, besides putting on a tight top that accentuated your figure, you wanted to be obvious, but none too much, but you hoped he would understand within seconds. You felt your folds slightly damp with every step you took and it was all thanks to Chan, who looked exquisite in his jeans, white shirt and thin denim jacket.

You bit your lip and gently plopped down on your couch dangerously close to him, handed him the can drink and turned your body, leaning your arm on the couch back and your bare thighs brushing against his, almost with your knees on top of them.

“So… any chance you can win the game tomorrow?” you commented somewhat amused to break the silence and the obvious sexual tension.

Chan’s gaze traveled from your thighs to your notorious chest through the corset to come to a fixed point on your face, killing him with tenderness as your radiant, sweet face, still wearing your glasses, made you look like a tender, sexy smart girl, which he was sure couldn’t be more true.

“Of course, we will win! Why do you say that? Hey, you’ll be there” he jokingly replied.

You laughed softly and watched his long fingers open the can, holding it up to take a sip of his soda. His strong neck—you needed him.

“Mmm… it’s just that we haven’t seen each other in so long," you added somewhat detachedly, engrossed in Chan. “well, we’ve seen each other often, but I guess it wasn’t the same, you know?”

Chan pressed his lips together, wiping any trace of the fizzy drink from his lips, and stared at you, his right hand held the can and with the fingertips of his other hand he began to gently trace random shapes on your thigh, delighting himself with your smooth texture.

“I understand perfectly…. we haven’t had this time alone, but all because of exam week, I know. How did it go, sweetheart?” he whispered, almost breathless and beginning to seduce you with every part of him, his voice, his gaze, everything.

You let yourself be carried away seconds by his touch before responding the same way he did.

“Ah, you know, I’ve been doing well, but it’s kind of stressful.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, honey…”

You blushed again, more so when he spoke to you like that, seductively but with slight concern, over all.

“I know” you continued speaking softly, tilting your head and looking into his dark brown eyes. “But I need the scholarship, living alone near the college area is expensive.”

Chan gave you a half smile, slowly bringing his fine brushes up.

“Aw, baby, that thing about you not having a roommate doesn’t sit well with me. Let me be your roommate…”

You laughed, “You’re crazy” you lifted your arm to play a little with his jacket on his shoulder. “I’d love to, but my dad would kill me, plus you have to give up your fraternity, aren’t you the leader and you have a pact or something?”

He smiled and set the can down on the coffee table.

“Would you like me to live with you?” you nodded not thinking clearly, just thinking that having him around every day would be a dream. “So…? I can quit, they’ll put Hyunjin in my place” he played a little, still taking full advantage of the tension created.

You made an amused expression.

“Hyunjin? He’s not frat boy material, he’ll die on day one.”

The distance was getting closer and closer between the two of you, and you could feel the breathing of both. Chan ran his tongue around the inside of his lips in amusement.

“Huh, what does that mean? That I’m just a frat boy to you?”

You looked at him for a few seconds that seemed long, you analyzed every part of his face and being inches away from each other didn’t help anything but create more tension. You knew he was only joking with you, still, you replied seriously as you were seriously admiring him.

“No… of course you’re not just that. You’re much more than that… I’m sorry… that I’ve strayed a bit…”

He sighed, losing his sanity with every passing second, turned his body a little and put his arm gently over yours to play with your loose hair.

“It’s okay, I understand, honey, college is very important for you.”

But so was he and you couldn’t believe you completely brushed him aside. It was your time to remedy that.

“So... how about you, how were the exam weeks?”

“Good,” he replied simply. “Tired, stressful. I may need a little help for the next exams.”

Now he dropped his hand all the way down to your thigh, stroking it almost to your area, putting it under your tiny garment and squeezing your skin.

You both couldn’t stand it a second longer.

It was your chance to step up and act bolder.

“Mmm... you know I can help you...”

You whispered, his gentle hand squeezing your thigh and seeking even deeper into your sensitive spot. But in one deft movement, you sat gently on his lap, surprising him completely. Chan watched your expression, still with a hint of shyness on your characteristically tender face... but he noticed that there was something completely noticeably different about you, a soft, mischievous smile, beautifully heavy breathing and a lustful gaze begging for more and more.

When his confusion vanished from him, a smile formed and he enjoyed the weight of your body on his lap and began to caress your body.

“Of course, you know how to help me. Smart girl” he murmured close to your lips.

You felt his fresh breath and his big hands run over your waist all the way down to your thighs.

He knew then that you were the mastermind of this little plan, of summoning him there, of dressing provocatively to drive him crazy and of being the one to approach him. He loved it, found it adorable and so damn hot he was still softly hard.

“I missed you, hun” he whispered, taking you by the chin.

You smiled at him and enjoyed every second of what you anticipated the obvious that your heart began to race.

You thought a soft ‘me too’ but couldn’t say it out loud and just leaned in to kiss him.

Chan was surprised each time but accepted it and received your lips sweetly. Finally, after so long, you were enjoying each other.

Your lips met softly, in a delicate act of delighting in the sensation and movements of each other’s mouth, as if you were trying to remember every particle of that soft and delicate muscle. You adored Chan’s lips and kisses. You loved having him close, as did he, in which he enjoyed the warmth of your body on his and your velvety lips painted in soft lipstick.

Chan held your face and squeezed your thigh letting himself go, lost in the sensation of something he longed for and desired so much.

Your hands also went to his face, letting your fingers rest on his soft jaw that moved as he kissed you.

And being out of breath, you parted only short seconds, almost nonexistent centimeters only for you to whisper between his lips in amusement:

“This is the kind of help you need?”

Chan laughed softly, squeezed your thigh tighter, and moved further across to take your lips again, this time faster, frantic and desperate, his restless tongue struggling to find yours, his soft, fluffy lips sensually sucking at your mouth, you kept pace with him and you both released that deep frustration in your being, the abstinence, and desperation for both of you.

You both needed each other, the connection was irremediable. You were making him more and more excited and for you, having his strong and big body close to yours was making you crazy, his hands on you, his nose bumping against your face, your glasses slipping off, you were getting that aching and throbbing sensation in your sensitive clit that only Chan could achieve in you, your folds were wet, sticky, you were making a mess with only his passionate kisses.

It was inevitable for Chan not to start getting completely hard as he was feeling the intensity with which you were responding to him and he was understanding perfectly the situation that you both would let something sexual happen. You, on the other hand, felt his erection bump against your ass as you were sitting right on top of him, you wanted him so badly that almost by reflex you began to move gently to feel his hard cock between the denim of his jeans, causing a soft gasp to come from his lips in between the kiss. Chan continued to stroke your thigh until he reached under your tiny skirt looking to play with your panties, but to his surprise, he found the fine touch of only your skin, you were not wearing panties and the thought made his cock throb.

“Mmm, fuck baby, you’re not wearing panties” he murmured sultrily between your lips, finding a way to abruptly spread your legs apart to pinch and rub your clit. “Like you’re getting your little pussy ready for me to play with.”

You blushed and yet you didn’t stop moving gently on him, you parted but were still with your faces pressed together, feeling each other’s agitated breathing, Chan bit his lip, running his fingers over your soft vaginal lips, letting them enfold your wetness without abandoning the tantalizing movements on your clit with his thumb.

You were so aroused, moaning softly at finally being touched in your much-needed area, you turned your face letting your cheek brush against his nose, and admired his strong veiny arm getting lost in your core; you were flailing and increasingly making a mess but you wanted to act bolder, you wanted to make up for all the times you couldn’t do it and felt you were pushing him away, so you wanted to be the one to take a little initiative and not get completely carried away with something Chan was starting.

“Ch-chan, I want to make you feel good…” you whimpered.

“And you do honey, don’t you? I love playing with your pussy” he whispered in your ear, this time with his fingertips superficially teasing your entrance. “Don’t you like it? God, you’re so fucking wet already.”

“Yes-yes, I do like it.”

“You’ve been stressed, let me take care of you, sweetie.”

Chan was beginning to tease you, his fingers not fully entering all the way to your sweet spot, his thumb tantalizing your clit, you were hopelessly desperate for something stronger, but you didn’t want him to do all the work.

You turned to see him again, his face was focused, his gaze dark and bright with desire; this was your chance, you had to act and stop being shy, do exactly what you wanted and what you wanted was also to provoke him a little. You smiled at him shyly but mischievously, you stirred and found a way to get out of his touch to quickly turn your body, turning your back to him, you held onto his knees and with your red face covered in slight embarrassment but lost in sexual desire, you began to move your hips, slowly and sensually over his crotch. Chan was completely surprised, but he let himself go, realizing your little attempts driving him crazy. Something in him was starting to take over, he found it so hot but tender the way you were surprising him more and more, and suddenly the immense and incredible desire to possess your body, to have you panting and exhausted asking for more.

Chan caressed your back, enjoying the pornographic sight of having your appetizing ass, half-visible through your short skirt, grinding on his cock; he bit his lip and in a desperate move roughly lifted your entire skirt to leave visible your ass and a small part of your exposed labia brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. You gasped, shaking your head and getting impatient, the rough fabric put a tingle in your core and every inch of you that was hard to breathe, you felt the stays of your corset tighten your skin, you longed to fuck him all at once.

“Aw, baby girl’s putting on a show, look at you, like a big girl, fuck, yes, keep doing it, baby” Chan moaned smugly with a rough voice and a cocky grin on his face that you couldn’t appreciate, ”You want to make me cum like this, don’t you, baby doll?”

You didn’t answer, your mind was occupied with the friction in your pussy that lightly battered your core. Your body burned with pleasure and slight embarrassment, you were adjusting to this new version of you but it was comforting to hear Chan's soft gasps and grunts indicating he was enjoying it. Grinding, a tiny lap dance, it was all new to you but you were making your mess in his cloth, pressing your pussy hard on him, managing to stimulate yourself more and more as Chan was having the fucking time of his life. He pulled his hands away from you for a second and watched your hips and ass move, fantasizing about having your pussy around his cock and you riding him exactly with that delicious sequence of movements.

Chan caressed your ass, going to his mind how beautiful it looked, so docile and submissive going in back and forth over his crotch, he squeezed your skin and the incredible desire to dominate you came back to him, like a strong, desperate charge in him. Chan held your hips tightly, lifting your body and forcing you to stop.

“Stay still” he ordered in his harsh voice, he delicately ran a finger between your folds drawing a sigh from you and began to caress your buttocks, “Your skin is so soft, princess…” he squeezed your ass, ”I love your ass, it's so cute… and easy to mark….. I know you're a good girl and can take them all.”

And unexpectedly, your first spanking, made you squeal and flinch in shock.

“You like it don't you, huh? Who knew that the smartest little girl of the class is actually a little whore who enjoys being spanked.”

And Chan continued, spanking you 10 times in all, fascinated with the idea of being the only one who could fucked you up like that, from the sight of your red ass with his hand imprinted on your skin. You whimpered in pain and pleasure, clutching at his knees, you couldn't even stop him, you had loved it, your whimpers and the sound of your skin being pounded filling your apartment, but your ass burned in pain, each spanking had been more intense than the other that you began to tear up slightly, almost like your pussy, wetting the inside of your thighs.

Chan grabbed your hips again, pulling you roughly against his lap again, you moaned at the friction on your ass. You whimpered a soft fuck.

“Keep grinding my cock, baby girl, give me a little show with your beautiful red ass.”

You kept doing it, not sure who could cum first, you wanted to but you were only overstimulating yourself and making your labia more sensitive with the constant friction. You adjusted your glasses and thought about how desperately you needed him so in one swift movement you turned your body, bringing your hands to the buttons of his pants, taking him by surprise.

“What are you doing, princess? Who let you boss yourself around?”

You looked into his eyes and he managed to intimidate you, something about him was so different from the last few times you'd done it, he was making you nervously excited, making your legs tremble. Chan leaned his body, getting closer to you and a smug smile formed on his face as your eyes looked shiny, your cheeks red and your makeup a little messed up. Messed up just how he wanted to have you tonight. You stood still, your hands in the waistband of his jeans; you swallowed nervously and with some embarrassment, you wanted to express your whole truth:

“I want to… feel you” you said in a trembling voice and retracted in seconds, remembering that you were going to leave your shyness behind, “I need you, Chan. I want to feel your cock, I want to fuck you.”

You sounded not needy but sincere and excited, your voice deepening, surprising your lover. Chan bit his lip, never believing you would say that sort of thing, as if the words cock and fuck were taboo coming out of your mouth, dirty and improper; his cock throbbed hard again, finding your dark lustful gaze behind your glasses fucking hot, making him uncontrollably horny to hear you talk like that no matter how immature it sounded… you were his sweet, tender, studious girl, now talking about how much you wanted his cock. It was one of his dirty dreams.

“Then come and get exactly what you want like a bad girl getting away with it.”

You blinked somewhat uncertainly, but with a mischievous smile you pulled down his pants and underwear with a little of his help until they were down to his calves. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of his well-erect cock, twitching as if it had a life of its own, you were scared and excited, thinking it even looked bigger since the last time you fucked. Chan groaned, feeling the release of his aching cock and the sound of him made you look into his eyes, his perfect slitted eyes radiating desire and his countenance and complexion exuding dominance and control. Before you could act, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back onto his lap.

“Make you cum on my cock, princess” his cock lightly pressed against his abdomen, throbbing in pleasure, you looked up at him, accepting your fate and thinking you were going to fuck him like that so you took his length, settling him at your entrance, but he stopped you, “Not like that, not yet, grind on it until you cum like the little slut you're behaving.”

You watched him from the arc of your glasses and positioned his thick cock between your folds, filling them completely, finally bringing the two warm sexes together which caused more than one sigh from both of you.

“Oh Chan” you whimpered and held onto his strong, broad shoulders.

You felt his length on your slick labia, opening your folds wide and rubbing your clit, grinding your wet sex hard against his until you felt every pulsation, it felt so good sliding in that you were making a mess again, this time you were more breathless, panting and feeling your orgasm close. You were eager, agitated and beginning to see stars; you looked down, your pussy hugging his veiny cock, playing with the sensitivity of his skin, his handsome manly face in pleasure as he babbled leaning back on the couch, his hands were on your hips, and you closed your eyes every now and then pushing yourself over the edge.

“Aw, baby, come on, you're going to cum on my cock? Do you like it? Tell me when you're about to cum.”

You gasped loudly in response, it was more than obvious, that what started as slow, sensual movements enjoying every second of the act turned into something faster, frantic, and desperate, looking for the release of your orgasm. Chan felt close as you began to move rapidly into him.

“Ch-channie, I'm about to, to… ah.”

“C'mon you can do it, hun, fuck, I'm close too.”

You panted, burying your hands in his shoulders, sighing heavily until you puffed out your chest and pressed them against your tight corset, when then you felt the intense release that made you embrace him, breathing in his scent as your lower half reacted violently making a mess and twitching its muscles in desperation. Chan cum almost at the same time as you did, making it filthy poetic, covering your folds and your couch in his semen, you experienced his restless cock collapsing in you and Chan cursing as he painfully felt each release spurting out of him after he had held it long enough.

You were both agitated, you were recovering but you were sure that your night was not going to end there. While you were still with your body leaning on his, Chan suddenly unzipped your corset, you pulled away from him to look at him and he was already sliding the garment down your arms to remove it and you let him do it, leaving you with your hard nipples and bare breast. He bit his lower lip beginning to caress them again entering your endless cycle of pleasure, it had been so long without having each other that you were both aware that your first orgasm was just almost a little warm-up, but you were so aroused by the intensity of it even though it wasn't the main act. Chan leaned close to your ear, whispering:

“Stand up, now.”

Tired, you obeyed him without a second thought, Chan did the same; you smiled happily at him, finding him adorable, despite being in the dirty act, his countenance and the fact that you were together enjoying each other was lovely, so you impulsively sought his lips, wanting to feel him again, you did so for a few short seconds but he didn't follow your act and instead surprised you with his hand on the back of your neck tugging your hair slightly to pull you away from him.

“You think I haven't noticed how much of a whore you've been acting… from the moment I got here… walking around with no underwear on… I think you've been a very, very bad girl.”

You watched him, his arm holding your hair looked so appealing and his kind of behavior excited every part of you, as if he wanted to assert authority and you were about to give in completely. You liked this Chan and you were just hoping for more intense sex by continuing to be treated like this.

“I just… wanted to stop being shy, like you said. Being a bad girl is asking for your cock?” you played, looking at him with big, bright eyes in false innocence.

His cock throbbed again, you were hitting him right in his most sensitive spot, your sweet naivety and innocence, it was obvious now you wanted to experience something harder and he was about to give it to you.

“I hope you know how bad girls are treated, provocative little sluts like you… they are treated for exactly what they are. On your knees now.”

Chan had fantasized about his cock in your mouth so many times that today was the perfect occasion when you were both needy and open to so many things because of the abstinence you had. Just when it was obvious you wanted to be used and he couldn't miss the opportunity.

You played with his shirt before getting on your knees, indicating that you wanted him to remove his clothes and he understood your subtle message, taking off his jacket and shirt, leaving you drooling at the sight of his muscular abdomen and erect cock in front of your face once you were on your knees. Your heart pounded.

“Take it all, little slut, use it like you know how, I want to fill your whole mouth with me” Chan moaned, watching you from above, taking your hair in a fist.

You had stopped being brave for a second and rose to look at him as you held his erection. He read your docile expression, your bright eyes in a gaze he knew well and adored with a mad passion, your look of uncertainty and innocence.

“Take it, baby girl, use your mouth and hands. You'll do fine.”

Chan smiled, grabbing his erection and running it down your cheek and around your lips. You stuck out your tongue, tasting his pink glans, running your tongue around his opening to taste every drop of his previous cum and his oozing pre cum, as if you were scooping a delicious ice cream. His taste and sensation filled every inch of you and with a little more confidence, you licked his entire warm, pulsating, wet length, still having room to feel him between your hands and stroke his cock. You were so excited and thrilled to explore absolutely everything about oral sex that you did your best to wrap your lips over his member to have absolutely the whole experience, you licked and licked, following his veins around it, reveling in the pulsing sensation of his needy sex and the gasps of an also needy Chan.

“That's right, baby, you're doing great, fu-fuck, play with my balls a little too” Chan whimpered.

Your ears twitched, almost thinking, oh, I'd forgotten and your hands massaged his sensitive soft testicles, not sure what you were doing but you licked them a little as you'd seen it was something that could be done, earning you from Chan a muffled moan and throwing his head back.

“Fuck, you're a naughty girl. Now put it in your mouth, come on, baby girl. Open your mouth.”

You salivated at his thick, raspy voice and did just as he commanded, his length filling your cavity and rubbing against the inside of your cheeks. You gasped with your mouth full, it felt so good in a way. In and out of you, enveloping your tongue and lips. Chan watched you, your gaze behind those glasses, your delicate mouth filled with his member were taking him to heaven, like never before, in a way it looked so dirty coming from you, on your knees with your breasts exposed and your mouth drooling and hands occupied with his big cock, Chan wanted to treasure the moment forever, besides the sensation that rocked the deepest in him, it was the best oral sex he had ever had and all because it was you giving it to him. You held onto his thighs, caressed his pubic skin and brought your hand up to touch his abs a little. Chan guided you gently, pushing your head and you found the perfect rhythm, bobbing your head, it was hot the first few moments, but desperately hot the next, your nose and eyes started to get sensitive, your jaw ached but it was worth every second.

Chan loved the slight imperfection of your act, but stopped being soft and tender as he said to you:

“I'm going to fuck your throat until it hurts to talk, baby girl.”

He started thrusting, you didn't even get a chance to whine fighting that it was too big, when he answered himself.

“You can take it, you can do it-fuck.”

His erection was reaching further and further down your throat, it brushed your uvula and for a second you felt embarrassed for your gag reflex but he continued to thrust until he reached a point you didn't think possible in your throat. You watched him, your eyes begging for mercy but he took no pity on you and began to fuck your throat and mouth, ramming you until you were sore. You squeezed your legs together, feeling your fluids slipping from how uncontrollably aroused you were. It felt so good, so wrong, your poor mouth being abused your first time. Chan grunted and whimpered, turning him on the image of you struggling with his big cock.

“Fuck, you're taking it so good. I'm about to cum” a high pitched moan escaped his lips, “Yes, yes-yes-yes- fuck” he began to babble.

Tears began to flow out of you again… thinking if it was that desperate and hot your pussy felt on its own. You could taste his orgasm, his pumping cock getting closer and closer until he cummed in your mouth, choking you a little once again. Chan grunted loudly, putting his head back and returned to pull his cock out of your mouth and messily left shots of his cum on your face. You took a deep breath and not knowing what exactly to do you swallowed heavily his cum and smiled proudly.

“Fuck, baby girl, did you swallow it? Good girl. Look at you.”

Chan stroked your already tousled hair, pushing the stuck hair away from your forehead by your light layer of released sweat. He took his cock in his other hand and kept rubbing it on your face, proud to have left you in such a state. Needy, messed up with cum on your sweet face.

“Good girl. Come here, sit on the couch, it's your turn.”

You nodded and obeyed him with a silly, deluded smile on your face, you were happy to please him and felt the night had no end. Chan now undressed himself, freeing himself of his jeans and underwear and got down on his knees in front of you, he removed your skirt, leaving you vulnerable and naked, for the first time in front of him.

“You are beautiful. I want to make you mine” he whispered.

He moved closer to your face, you playfully bit your lip, from every angle and distance he was so attractive to you that, still delusional you held his face in your hands as he tentatively kissed you, his hand again playing with your pussy. His lips moved down and you caressed the curls of his hair as he did the same act he did the first time you were together, sizzling kisses down your body until he reached your sensitive cunt. He feasted on your breasts and nipples before he got down there and kissed your skin and clit, driving you wild.

“Use your words, little girl, what do you want now?” he asked, his hands squeezing your thigh, his breath on your pussy.

You didn't think about it, “Chan, please…eat my-pussy. I need it.”

“You need it?” he chuckled softly.

He admired the sight of your swollen, wet pussy, it was going to be a pleasure to taste you, and he adored it. He slapped moderately hard on your vulva making it more flushed, flinching you and finally, his lips encircled your pubis and part of your labia to suck exquisitely on your clit. You moaned, still stroking his hair.

“Mmm, Channie-”

You lost your mind as soon as he rubbed his face on your clit, shaking his head. This time he focused on your sensitive spot, playing with your folds, spreading and joining them in constant motion stimulating you while his mouth and tongue tortured your clit, biting, sucking, and teasing it with movements with the tip of his tongue, staring at you as he made you lose your mind.

You arched your back, Chan knew you were close, he stroked your clit with his finger and lowered his mouth to the rest of your vulva making you whimper, sloppy licks with his thick, warm, naughty tongue across your labia, sucking them until he reached your throbbing entrance. You were so close again and Chan began to penetrate you with his tongue, pressing his nose into another sweet spot of yours in the process. You babbled his name in a desperate search to climax your ecstasy.

“Cum in my mouth, cum in my mouth, baby-make a mess” his voice vibrated in your core and earned with it the intense mess of your orgasm.

Chan licked your orgasm, making you shudder. You were tired, your limbs trembling. The excitement was already a pleasurable burden on your body and with Chan, there was still no end to it.

“Your pussy is so swollen and beautiful baby girl, it's all ready for me to fuck you.”

You looked him in the eye and didn't protest, “Come on,” he gasped as he carried you and you let yourself be hold by him to your bed to lay your naked body on it.

You were hoping for the best, to finally be filled by him, even though you knew it was going to hurt because of his size, the feeling was hotly indescribable, it was what you wanted all along, to be fucked by him. The foreplay had been intense, your body was already tired but you thought you were ready for the last act. Chan positioned himself, stroking his erect cock and leaned down, his thumb wiping the rest of cum on your face, then sliding and inserting his finger into your mouth.

You needed him now. Your mind forgot about the existence of condoms in your drawer, you wanted Chan to fuck you at once. Chan smiled, his lips glistening for your orgasm.

He pulled his finger away from your mouth and sweetly took your lips, tasting a bit of the other and gradually raised the tone of the kiss until he left you breathless with your lips swollen, begging for more of the feel of his lips with yours.

“I'll make you mine, my cum in your mouth and everywhere. I'm going to fill your tight little pussy up, baby.”

Your body trembled in excitement, you couldn't resist it anymore, and you almost begged in supplication, following his game.

“Chan, please fuck me I want your cum inside me. I need your cum inside me so bad.”

He went back to playing with his thumb around your mouth.

“Look at you, baby girl, begging and saying please when I'm going to fuck you hard. Break you in two. I won't be gentle.”

He sentenced, fulfilling his words and ramming his cock violently into your pussy, opening wide your entrance and causing you to scream. Chan admired the bulge formed in your belly, running his thumb finely over your skin. He was deep inside you, ramming into your cervix, filling every space of your walls. You whimpered but his pumping sex had never felt better, pulsing, warm and wet, living the full experience of his veins being squeezed through your walls. Chan first used you, to you adjust to his size, taking you by the waist and using your body, manipulating it with ease and roughness sliding on his cock.

He admired his member being consumed by your entrance, your tightness choking him and his tip pounding to your limit.

“Cha-channie, please” you whimpered in pain and pleasure, still wanting to make a mess of his cock. “God, you feel so good.”

Sounds of your soaked pussy colliding with his dick began to make themselves present.

“So-fucking tight, baby girl, fuck, fuck.”

When Chan sensed that you were adjusting, which wasn't quite true, he began to move, ramming you bestially, moving his hips in a rhythm, bumping your skin, and releasing every frustration in you. You whimpered and embraced him as soon as he leaned into you, his skin rubbing and teasing your clit with each deep thrust. You dug your nails into his back and clamped your legs closely together to his body, once again apart from the sizzling pain in your pussy, the burning pain in your belly indicated another successful and intense orgasm with Chan appeared.

Chan cursed at the feel of it, the muscles of your spongy walls clenching him and your grip on him growing tight, your nails marking his pale skin and broad back, never ceasing to pound into you and babbling in the stars, close to your ear.

“Cha-chan, please, I'm gonna cum...”

“Do it, baby, fuck, cum.”

You arched your back in pain, rolled your eyes because he was hitting your sweet spot before climaxing, squealed getting restless, and collapsed under his body with every muscle in your vagina acting on his constantly moving cock. Chan moaned and did not stop thrusting you until he reached his orgasm. After short moments you again climaxed more gently, but intensely for him.

“Fuck-mmm, baby, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up. I'm gonna make you mine forever ahh-”

He grabbed your neck without choking you and cum intensely deep inside your core, leaving his member sensitive, satisfied, and used. Chan slid his cock out of you, leaving you with the sensation of a huge emptiness combined with the tingle of your muscles collapsing and his cum spurting out of your hole. He rested his cock on your belly, still climaxing loudly, rubbing his aching cock with his hand and leaving more cum on your skin. His orgasm was long and wonderful and managed to make him exhausted and shaken.

Chan dropped his body to the side of yours, seeking your closeness and comfort, hugging you and hiding his face in your chest.

“Holy shit, baby, that was amazing. Did you like it? I'm tired, but I can fuck you like that every fucking day.”

You were surprised that he was with his face tenderly hidden in your chest, hugging you, but you accepted it with a smile and started stroking his hair. Both of you breathing heavily.

“I loved it, Chan.”

“Me, too, sweetheart” he lifted his face to look at you, his tone was softer and his sweet gaze now reflected sweetness and almost seeking affection, you were impressed by the incredible change. “I hope I wasn't so hard on you, next time we can change, you can tell me anything...”

“I loved it” you interrupted him.

“Doesn't your cute ass hurt anymore?” he pouted adorably, his hands traveling to your butt to caress it.

You shook your head, laughing softly. He looked so tender as if he hadn't moved your guts less than five minutes ago. His eyes sparkled and he looked so soft with his curly hair falling down his forehead.

“Okay” he smiled, “I needed this. I needed you” he caressed your waist. “Can I ask you one thing now?”

Post sex was making you drowsy, you were tired and the warmth of Chan's body felt so good.

“Mmm?” you hummed.

“Let's go out... on dates, let me get to know you more and more. I want to make you my girlfriend, y/n. I want to be your boyfriend” Chan spoke, sweet and needy.

Sleepiness left your body and your heart raced as it was everything you had dreamed of all along... you finally knew he meant it. You looked at him, blinking softly.

“And I want to be your girlfriend, Chan.”

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[ellecdc]

hello elle!! i saw you asking for pregnant reader/ dad marauders and i was thinking maybe one about one of them reading about baby’s and music and they’re all discussing what kind of music they wanna play if they want classical or baby music and tiny baby who cannot care any less just starts crawling towards the vinyls and picks something like bowie or queen?? i can imagine sirius losing his mind about it, i just know it would be funny!! i love the ones you’ve made so far i’m obsessed, you’re so talented <3

aaah so cute! thanks for the request!!! <3

dad!marauders x mum!reader who try to musicify their child [850 words]

CW: kid fic, written as fem!reader but no gender is specified - Remus calls you dove, one slightly dirty joke if you want it to be, fluff [I tried to avoid naming their kid for this one but it didn't feel right. I know I like to have Sirius' daughter's name to be 'Aurora' but idk what to do with poly fics yet]

You’d long since given up on trying to spare your child from their father’s nonsense. You have a feeling that Remus had too, though he couldn’t always help but stoke the coals of nonsense where he saw fit.

“I think it’s fine she’s not said her first word yet!” Sirius commented from the floor, sitting cross legged with his arms held aloft should he need to catch your daughter if her chubby little legs gave out on her. “Some say that if it takes them a long time to start speaking, then they’ll just start speaking in full sentences.”

“Yeah?” Remus commented sceptically as he sifted through the mail. “Who’s they?” 

“The books! The baby books!”

“The baby books?” Remus deadpanned, shooting you wink to let you know he was taking the piss.

“Yes! That’s why we need to start her on music now.” Sirius proclaimed, earning him a scoff from James who was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, also supervising your toddlers toddling. 

“Oh? We need to start her on music now? But when I wanted to start her on music back-”

“You didn’t want to start her on music, Jamie.” Sirius scolded. “You wanted to start her on ABBA.” 

“You take that back.” James demanded, pointing a severe finger at Sirius.

“Okay, okay.” Remus commented with his hands up placatingly. “Let’s all just take it easy, alright? There’s no need for this to escalate.” 

Sirius and James stared each other down a moment longer before they relented. 

“But we should probably get her started on Beethoven or Motzart.” Remus added as he disappeared into the kitchen, earning him ‘oi’s of protest from his two most theatrical partners.

“You’re trying to make my daughter boring.” Sirius accused.

“No.” Remus argued as he returned with a frozen teether for said daughter, moving to sit on the couch next to the chair you were situated in. “I’m trying to make our daughter intelligent.” 

“Y/N.” James whined then, causing you to look up from the book you were only pretending to read. “Moony’s trying to turn our daughter into a swot.”

“Remus.” You drawled in your most bored tone.

Remus played the part of a beat down suburban father. “Yes dear?” 

“Stop trying to give our daughter a fighting chance in McGonagall’s advanced transfiguration course.”

“Yes dear.”

“Thank you.” Sirius professed, smiling greatly at the child when she gurgled something around the teether. “Is that right, sweet girl? That almost sounded like the Arabic in the bridge of Bohemian Rhapsody!” 

“No,” James argued, “that sounded like the opening notes of Super Trouper.” 

“It sounded like the poor thing is cutting another tooth.” You countered as you held your arms open, earning you a slobbery smile around the teether she refused to spit out, watching as she took two unstable steps towards you before falling onto her bum. 

“Our little lovie won’t let that slow her down though, will she?” James cheered, earning him a squeal from his daughter as she took off crawling in the opposite direction.

“What would be her first words if she started speaking in full sentences, though?” You pondered aloud as you watched her stand on her knees in front of the record collection, banging her teether against the legs of the turntable. 

“Probably reminding Sirius to ‘use a sodding coaster’.” James chuckled.

“Or the common conciliatory ‘okay, moons’.” Remus snorted. 

“No! It should absolutely be ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good’!” Sirius interjected.

“That’s kind of a mouthful for a wee babe.” Remus considered.

“You’re kind of a mouthful.” Sirius muttered.

“What about ‘mischief managed’?” You offered then, causing all three boys to sigh sentimentally. 

“No.” Sirius decided after a moment. “Her first word will definitely be ‘dove’.”

“I agree.” James added with a nod in your direction. “That’s probably the most said word in this house.”

“That’s not true.” Remus argued; his cheeks dusted with the faintest pink. 

Any further teasing at Remus’ sake was curtailed by an excited squeal from the child who was now standing at her full height with a record in one hand and its sleeve in the other.

“No way!” Both James and Sirius chorused, though it was James in excitement and Sirius in devastation. 

James all but launched himself at his daughter and scooped her up into his arms, eliciting even more delighted squealing as he placed the record of her choosing on the turntable and hit play. 

And what started playing from your well-used record player but Side Two of ABBA’s Greatest Hits Vol. 2.

“You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life; ooooh!” James sang horribly out of tune to his daughter's delight and Sirius’ chagrin as you and Remus shared a look. 

“She’s not going to stand a chance in advanced transfiguration, is she?” 

“Perhaps not,” you offered as you watched James sing loudly at Sirius who beamed up at James and their daughter from his place on the floor, forgoing any act of irritation as he sang and bobbed along for your baby's sake, “but at least she’ll know how to dance.”

[whereserpentswalk]

You are closer to a holocaust denier then you will ever know.

This is like saying they killed Aryans too. Yes, the nazis killed people for all different reasons, being part of one privileged group doesn't make you not part of a different marginalized group. But nobody was killed for being Christian. Just like how nobody was killed for being white.

And the idea that "true Christians" are good people, is the same as the idea that "true Aryans" are good people. It's saying that being part of a privileged group makes you morally superior, and that's the type of language that creates a culture that does something like the holocaust.

The nazis didn't twist anything, outside of the idea that all interpretation of holy texts is twisting them. The nazis were devout Christians. And they followed in the footsteps of devout Christians before them, their hatred of homosexuality, human rights, other religions, and jews specifically, makes their ideology in line with famous Christians such as Paul, Constatine, and Justinian. And though I cannot speak for the historical Jesus, the Jesus in the bible would have loved the Nazis, he attacked Jewish places of worship and told the Jews they worshipped Satan, he would have been Hitler's main man.

The poem you quote is the complaints of a nazi who didn't like it when the other nazis turned on him. It's a coward's poem. If you want to cite poems when talking about the holocaust cite ones written by its victims instead of its perpetrators.

The nazis that you see in movies are as much a historical fantasy as vikings with horned helmets and samurai cutting people in half.

The nazis were not some vague evil that wanted to hurt people for the sake of hurting them. They had specific goals which furthered a far right agenda, and they wanted to do harm to very specific groups, (largely slavs, jews, Romani, queer people, communists/leftists, and disabled people.)

The nazis didn't use soldiers in creepy gas masks as their main imagery that they sold to the german people, they used blond haired blue eyed families. Nor did they stand up on podiums saying that would wage an endless and brutal war, they gave speeches about protecting white Christian society from degenerates just like how conservatives do today.

Nazis weren't atheists or pagans. They were deeply Christian and Christianity was part of their ideology just like it is for modern conservatives. They spoke at lengths about defending their Christian nation from godless leftism. The ones who hated the catholic church hated it for protestant reasons. Nazi occultism was fringe within the party and never expected to become mainstream, and those occultists were still Christian, none of them ever claimed to be Satanists or Asatru.

Nazis were also not queer or disabled. They killed those groups, before they had a chance to kill almost anyone else actually. Despite the amount of disabled nazis or queer/queer coded nazis you'll see in movies and on TV, in reality they were very cishet and very able bodied. There was one high ranking nazi early on who was gay and the other nazis killed him for that. Saying the nazis were gay or disabled makes about as much sense as saying they were Jewish.

The nazis weren't mentally ill. As previously mentioned they hated disabled people, and this unquestionably included anyone neurodivergent. When the surviving nazi war criminals were given psychological tests after the war, they were shown to be some of the most neurotypical people out there.

The nazis weren't socialists. Full stop. They hated socialists. They got elected on hating socialists. They killed socialists. Hating all forms of lefitsm was a big part of their ideology, and especially a big part of how they sold themselves.

The nazis were not the supervillians you see on screen, not because they didn't do horrible things in real life, they most certainly did, but because they weren't that vague apolitical evil that exists for white American action heros to fight. They did horrible things because they had a right wing authoritarian political ideology, an ideology that is fundamentally the same as what most of the modern right wing believes.

[koolades-world]

have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!

i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!

this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3

birthmarks

"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.

"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.

"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.

"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.

"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.

"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.

"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.

"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.

"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.

"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.

"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.

"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."

You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.

"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.

"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.

"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.

"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.

"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.

"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.

"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."

"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.

"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.

"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.

"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.

"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.

"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.

Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"

[rwrbficrecs]

Our September & October recs ❤️

make lemonade by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This author consistently posts stellar works but I often finish wanting more of that world. This one is nice and long — yay! I loved this meet-cute where Alex’s daughter Claudia has a lemonade stand and Henry is one of their favorite customers. This was a bit of an exploration of divorced dad (single dad) Alex. His mixed feelings about coparenting and starting a new relationship were nicely developed. Such a great warm fuzzy fic, with a nice bit of angst and character development mixed in to make things interesting. And I loved the kid character, Claudia!

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This road trip AU is so fun, partly because of how soft our favorite boys are, but also just because of Alex's bright personality throughout the whole thing, and the faith and hope that's a critical part of the book!

we should get married by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I had heard people talking about this green card marriage AU for months, and the hype was definitely warranted (as with all of this author's writing)! Little details from the book used in a new way, instant attraction, both of them being exactly what the other needs, exploration of other relationship dynamics within the book... this fic has so much depth in its 4 chapters, and it's fantastic!

Cleansing Downpour by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: It often seems like things between June and Nora were always easy, like they were just meant to be. But what if it wasn't that simple? Feeling stuck in life, June is caught between writing a book she’s starting to hate, and navigating her growing feelings for her best friend. A beautifully written story of change, friendship and love, and figuring out who you really are.

runaway now and forever more by tonystarked (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Aged Alex and Henry, a US Senator and an English Prince, have been pining for each other for what feels like forever. Could tonight, at a glamorous charity event, finally be the night they open up to one another? This beautifully heart-wrenching and incredibly poetic fic has been stuck in my head ever since I read it!

The Candy Tax by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely adorable! It's the perfect nostalgia trip for anyone who went trick or treating, and it incorporates some of the pop culture references from the book in the best ways that just add to what make this fic so cute!

Heart enough by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: What if Henry's the one who has to travel for the apology tour and instead of celebrating New Year's, they have a Halloween party? This fic adds so many layers and soft moments to the original, but still includes the heart and references we all love!

Halloween at Kensington by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Arthur POV of Halloween when his kids are little I didn't know I needed until I read it- this is so adorable, and Henry and Phillip's characterization in it is perfect!

I was cold as a stone (but I found what I'm lookin' for) by @miharaikko (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Author Henry has retreated to a small, secluded cabin in the mountains, hoping it will spark some writing inspiration. That's where he meets Alex, the owner of the cabin... The mountain and campfire vibes are absolutely wonderful. It's such a fluffy and heartfelt one-shot – just as recommendable as the other fics in the Flufftober: A Red Umbrella Collection.

Red, White and Royal Switcheroo by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This body swap AU left me wondering how everything would have been different in the rest of the story- it's that good! It has the heart and content of the original, plus moments that are brand new- and watching the boys pretend to be each other is fantastic!

Oblivion by @milowren29 (book-verse)

@dot524: This story has been on my reading list for a while and wow, did it live up to expectations! Alex and Henry are kidnapped during their visit to the hospital, and they trauma-bond during their experience. But what will happen afterward? How will this change things between them? The action, angst, and longing in here is spot-on and the storytelling is so well-done.

Sounds of Someday by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: USA 1972, three weeks on a road trip on the 'road to nowhere' heading toward Texas: writer Henry and farm boy Alex. This fic is so layered and full of hurt and emotions. The ending completely knocked the wind out of me. An absolute masterpiece, please everyone, read it – it's phenomenally good in terms of language, storytelling, and capturing the spirit of the time !!

blizzards and broken boundaries by @gayhoediaz (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Age gap – I love this trope with Henry and Alex. Here, it’s a 20+ year difference: Alex is a student, Henry his professor. Alex makes the move, Henry is very amenable. The alternating POV is so cleverly done, the tags say PWP, but I definitely felt all the feelings. Absolutely delicious!

These violent delights by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Henry as a vampire hunter in this fic is such an intriguing concept and the backstory of it and the fic's conflict is so well done!

With magic soakin' my spine, can you read my mind? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Pining and magic and revelations abound in this fic that's written so well, it gave me chills. This fic is definitely a must-read if you want a canon divergent fic that has just a hint of magic!

to belong to a family (even beyond this world) by @read-and-write- (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The Mexican part of Alex's heritage absolutely shines through in this- and this is definitely a fic you want to read if you want Día de los Muertos fic and all the Arthur feels! I also love all the neurodiversity in this fic!

A Beautiful Reality by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Priest!Henry is back. The second part of The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To Is When I'm Alone With You is out!! And – surprise: He’s not a priest anymore. But it’s not that easy to shake off those deeply rooted beliefs and Catholic guilt. Luckily, Alex is so patient and totally in love.

The Brightest Star by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Single dad Alex meets children’s book author Henry, and they connect immediately. The obstacle in this story is Alex’s sense of duty to his daughter, Bia. She’s quick and creative, and she’s brimming with opinions. I’m a bit picky about OC’s and kids in fics, but this one was so well done. It’s full of fun dialogue and well-realized feelings and angst. Definitely check it out!

A Love That Haunts the Land by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Once again, this author has blended Mexican culture and RWRB in a way that's so authentic- plus there's magic! This is one you won't want to miss!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[zepskies]

@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:

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.

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. 😏💜

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. 🤣🤣

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:

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. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

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

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. 

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. 

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.

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. 

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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[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Mafia AU!

Chapter 1: “The rain falls but they fell harder”

{A/N: the unofficial part 1 to this brainrot series of minee🫡}

OG Post Links (if you want to read more crumbs of this slowly building brainrot of mine lol) from oldest to latest <33

Preface:

It was right around fall when you got the news of been evicted out of your home- the reason being? Your roommate bailed and sold you out. Giving you only so much as a couple of hours to pack your things and leave as they had left too.

Luckily, your desperation was quenched when your co-worker happens to hear your ramblings during the night shift. With no choice but to accept, you accepted to take care of their place and move into the new city bustling in anxious steps. You could only live off your friend’s current supplies, so you needed to find a job fast.

"Turn left... turn left- WHERE?!" Almost feeling the urge to throw down the piece of paper your co-worker handed you earlier, you could only feel the pressure rise in your veins as heaved- trying an attempt to calm yourself-- seeing as how you got lost for the umpteenth time. The amount of turns you made in these wet streets and cuts through the alleyways made you quite hopeless in your situation.

A 'simple, turn right then left!' they said to you while handing the small folded note in your hands just in case. Besides having the direction written, it also had a weird doodle on the underside but paid no mind to it as you were more focused on the instructions of your co-worker, easily understanding it with no issue.

Yet it seems that you didn't as you stumble in front of a quaint...

"Bakery? Now how did I get here this time..."

The building in front of you was quite run down, but the words on the window were still quite visible despite the rain padding onto it . 'Homecooked goods,' it says in white cursive writing, which complemented the natural red bricked border. There were a couple plants that you took notice of wilting, making you frown quite a bit- knowing how, if they were given a bit of more loving, it would look quite beautiful and an even more attractive bakery.

Although you had to shake that thought away, deciding that it wasn't your objective coming into the bakery (yes, it was still equally important to you but finding your co-worker's place was more of an immediate concern.)

Knowing that you had lost all hope at this point, stumbling into so many dead ends that you decided to cut your losses, man up, and ask for directions around this place. For quite a well-known and popular town, this part of it was quite desolate.

Hence, when you started marching towards the bakery, you noticed how there were quite amount of similar cars out front. All black, sleek, fancy- wait... maybe this was a fancy bakery? Or not a bakery at all? What if you can't get any help or information from this place-?

"Johnny wasn't even- woah!"

At that moment, you happened to stop in front of the door and get hit right on the nose by the wood door and solar plexus punched by the quite fancy handle it was accompanied with.

"fUCKKKKKKKKK...." You swore silently, landing on your back and scattering all of your belongings as you clutched both your nose and stomach in (mostly shock) anguish with the person who gutted you mercilessly (accidentally) quickly asking if you were okay.

"Oh my- dearie, where are you hurt? I'm so sorry!"

You could feel the person talking, resting their hands on yours as it gently prodded yours away.

“Mighty careless of ya’, Garrick.” Someone jabs at the person you assumed had knocked you out.

“Ain’t a new sight to see LT?” The voices continues on while another replied with a grunt- which you are quick to piece together that there are three people now who had seen you land on your ass quite… gracefully.

“Oi,” another joins in, “what’s the hold up by the door? You’re bloody blockin’ the way.” A quite irritable one at that, you note.

“Sorry sir,” you hear the one besides you talk, “I accidentally hurt 'em when I opened the door.”

You hear another padding of footsteps as the one besides you shuffle away. You couldn’t see anything at the moment from how teary-eyed you were.

“Are you okay?” The newest voice grunts, right besides you, and you could smell the beer on his breath so you blanched away from him.

“I-i’m fine…” you managed to get out, albeit in quite a nasally tone as you pinched your nose to subside the pain.

“Doesn’t sound like it lassie,” the voice snickers and you turn to them with a closed-eye glare.

“Who are you to assume how much pain I’m in right now?!” You grumble in irritation, unable to control your emotions anymore for how shitty your day has been.

The straw that broke the camel’s back per se.

Lucky they were quick on the uptake.

“Can I see it?”

“Huh?”

You whipped your head to the other side, hearing the same voice that apologized to you.

“Can I check your nose?” He giggles, “Gotta know if we have to take you to the hospital or not.”

“No need to,” you insisted yet your hands fall to your side, letting the man to check it himself- which you had identified once your vision started clearing up from the tears.

"Shh, shh- no need for tears.." you felt a thumb rub at your cheeks gently, and you could barely make out the silhouette of the other man as he hushes you.

Bulky, scruffy beard, but was mostly covered the scarf around his neck, as well as the hat perched on top of his head- making it unable for you to see his entire visage.

"Seems nothing's broken," you hear the gentle man mumble to himself and you could feel yourself stiffen less.

"Thank fuck," you chuckled, "I don't have enough to get that fixed if it was."

"You wouldn't have to pay for it," he replies, eyes now staring at you with more... softness? If you had to make sense of it somehow.

"Why not?"

You stared at him as if you couldn't comprehend the intent behind his actions.

"'Cause he hurt you, lovie." The man, now clearer in your sight, explained- and his, 'oh his dark blue eyes' made you inherently stutter out a response.

"I-it's alright-- wasn't lookin' where I was going is all!" Your hands shake in front of you, widly shaking your head know as you show that you are unable to accept the generosity of the man. As much as you'd appreciate being treated to free healthcare- that seems too much for something that was a mistake (on your part mostly.)

"I insist," the kind gentleman insists, "I, too, was in deep conversation that I wasn't aware that somebody was on the other side of the door."

He grabs your hands, forcing them to calm down and for you to make eye contact with him- hoping that you would see the sincerity in them.

Yet all it did was make you more nervous, now seeing him in his entirety, from his clear cut jawline to how his eyes sparkled under the street light.

'Pretty.' is the first thought that comes into your head as you continue to be whisked away in the hues of the warm comforting--

"Let me help you up."

You yelp, feeling your arms being tugged (and your consciousness out of your thoughts) to a standing position, though from the sudden jerk you barely could catch yourself- sensing your self fall once more face first this time.

"Woah there!" You felt hands at your waist, steadying and grounding, as you feel the sudden rush of blood in and out of your head.

"Sorry," the kind man once again apologizes, "was that too fast?"

You sighed, unconsciously leaning your head against his chest, trying to calm the pounding in your head- "no, you're good."

"Dizzy?" You feel a warm hand on your forehead and you nodded again, thoughts now feeling a bit muddled from just about everything.

"think they caught a cold sir," another voice pipes in, the grumbly one from earlier.

"Seems like it," the mustache man replies, "got a place we can take you back to, lovie?"

"can't find it," your mumbles are barely audible from how muffled it was into the man's jacket and the patter of the rain on the sidewalk, yet they still caught on and looked at each other in confusion.

Odd and cryptic- was it because you knew them? Or you didn't want anyone knowing where you lived- especially with four strange big men at that.

Sighing, the bearded man signaled to the other side with a jerk of his head, "ask nonna and nonno if they can spare a room for the night."

"On it sir," the two responded with a quick nod, leaving as quickly as they had gone out.

"tell 'em I'll handle the lodging pay!" he follows up and they responded in affirmation again before he turns back to you, shivering up in his man's arms, looking quite defeated.

You looked like a kit left in the rain, and he felt that surge of sympathy of wanting to care for you- but he knows he can't. Not with a non-combatant and civilian, he thinks.

"Get 'em inside Garrick," he instructed and 'Garrick' responds with a soft, "yes sir" before mumbling to you and helping you move into the warm bakery.

The bearded man stayed outside, collecting your things until he saw paper jutting out of your bag, lines that were quite familiar. Checking if you were inside already, he could see Garrick bring you inside by the hand as you approached a fussy elderly couple, who quickly ushered you and Garrick up some stairs, deeper into the building.

Once he knew you were out of sight, he quickly grabs the paper and reads the words on it.

'Nothing of note,' he thinks then turns it around, eyes narrowing at the symbol draw at the underside.

"haven't seen this in a while..."

"Haven't seen what in a while sir?"

"Ghost," the bearded man regarded before passing the stuff he picked up into his arms, "we'll discuss it back at HQ."

Ghost nods and leaves to go back inside while another exited to join him.

"Did it come from 'em sir?" The shorter man asks, and the bearded man nods.

"Yes," he confirms, "but I do think its not from them specifically."

The other man hums, "sounds like we need to do some diggin' on 'em."

"we'll get more info from 'em once they wake." he grabs a smoke from his pocket before gesturing the other to light it for him. "Stay on post Soap."

"Aye sir," Soap salutes and watches him leave as he returns inside, doing as he was told.

You wake up with the gnarliest headache ever, that even if you did drink yourself blank out drunk- this would still take the cake of morning hangovers.

"Mornin' sleepyhead."

"the fuck?" You grumbled, throwing an arm over your eyes as you evade the sunlight by the window to spot a man by the doorway. He had quite a fancy fit on with the subtle floral pattern of a polo to the grey slacks with harnesses attached around his waist and thighs, gun holster by his hips but no gun in it.

"rough night?" he asks and you nod along, unsure of what happened to you- everything still quite a blur in your head, memories merging and dissipating the instant it comes popping up.

"our boss paid for your lodgin' here," he walks into the room and ends up at a chair by your bedside, "'compensation for his men' hurtin' ya last night, he says."

Hearing him say that made everything come into place, "you were the guys I bumped into at that bakery last night!"

You pointing at him in accusation made him chuckle and lean closer to you, yet that made you lean further away as you now realize the very trepid situation you were in.

"That's us alright," he hums, "are you still hurtin'?"

'oh,' you thought to youself, 'he was just checking if my nose was better.'

Embarrassment filled you at the insinuations that you made up in your head, as you assumed his intentions; hence, you had to look away from him- to save the little bit of dignity you had.

"no," you quickly snippet, "head's just heavy."

He clicks his tongue before standing and going to a desk, making you perk your eyebrows in confusion.

"well," you hear water being poured, "might be because you were burnin' high with a fuckin' fever in the rain."

He hands you the glass of cool water, "that's why."

You glare at him before chugging the water down, letting out a small burp while wiping the side of your mouth as you feel less parched than when you woke up.

Silence filled the room as you thought of how odd your situation was. No matter how accidental your meeting was- doing this much for a stranger was quite... well, strange is the best way to put it.

"Why're you guys concerned?" You finally managed to get out, despite the mess of thoughts you're having right now.

There was no malice behind your words, just simple curiosity and he could see it from how clear your eyes were of your intentions-- quite ironic from how much of a mess your brain was right now.

"boss felt responsible," you could hear the man chalk it up to that conclusion, "likes takin' care of people, that soft old chap."

You didn't quite catch the last part of his words as he mumbled it under his breath but you nodded anyways.

"That's quite kind of him," you softly spoke with your voice still hoarse, "can admit that it's hard to come by that kinda thing nowadays."

"I got lucky," you admitted, "please thank him for me."

The way you smiled made him pause for a second- it was genuine and so clear of its intent behind that it made his skin crawl and hair stand at the ends of his neck. He could feel his hand twitching to rub and his face and neck, so he let it- turning away from you as he reassured you that he would.

After a couple of more minutes, he tells you more details of your situation and you felt more grounded now, thanking him and his boss once again for looking out for you.

"No problem, sweets." he shoots you a grin- a quite silly and crooked one at that which made you return it in kind as you bid him farewell.

"Better get goin' huh..." you tell yourself as you picked yourself up from the bed and stretched, "still gotta ask and find out about where this place is..."

Yet as you look through your bag and all of its pockets, you noticed that the paper was missing, dumping the rest of out, you groan out- once more- in anguish at your situation.

"this is such a fucked up week!"

"how about we un-fuck it cara*?"

(A/N: *cara- Italian for 'beloved'/ 'dear')

And that wraps up the 1st chapter to this series!! Heads up, updates will be slow but feel free to hmu with ideas/ thoughts about the AU hehe (including my other ones too :>>)

[aboutcustardcreams]

Wake up call

pt. 1

a/n: I'm not going to follow the series episode by episode, as I already mentioned. This story will focus primarily on the three witches' story, so I'll probably jump forward and back in time at my own discretion from now on. If you're curious about something in particular, feel free to tell me in the comments. Would you prefer that I go back or forward from now on? (also, sorry for eventual typos or mistakes).

pt. 2

Agatha looked as surprised as you for a moment. The boy was on his knees, squirming uncomfortably at the rope around his wrists and ankles. He said something, his voice sounded muffled through the duct tape.

“Oh, uhm.. well, I may have accidentally kidnapped him.” 

You blinked in disbelief, “How can you accidentally kidnap someone?”

The kid muttered something else you couldn’t quite comprehend. You thought it was his way to agree with you, so you grinned, whereas Agatha groaned in annoyance. As the boy persisted, you realized what he really wanted from you. 

“Oh–”, you mouthed a quick apology, lips stretching in an awkward smile as you took the tape off his mouth with a quick puck. He winced, but then muttered a ‘thanks’ to you. Had he been locked in there the whole night? Instead of that, you asked a different question, “you alright?”, twirling your finger, you made him turn around to untie the rope around his wrists and ankles. 

He sighed and gave you a grateful smile once free, “much better.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, not really sure about what else was to say, despite having tons of questions. There couldn’t be a moment worse than this to have to deal with a kid. 

“Agatha, love, care to explain?” 

Your lover paid no attention, or rather she feigned to be distracted doing practically nothing more than walking up and down the house, as she mentally freaked out due to the last events. 

“There’s nothing to explain–”, she waved dismissively, “For all I care he can keep the house.” 

The boy frowned and quite frankly so did you. You walked up to her, confusion written all over your features, “Agatha, what in heaven are you talking about?” 

The boy followed behind in silence.

When she suddenly spun around, Agatha was so close, you almost stumbled backwards. “Did you listen to Rio’s words or not?” There was a hint of frustration in her tone, quite relatable in fact, and yet...

Your head lolled to the side, “so your plan is to leave?”

“Glad you’re catching up," she grinned cheekily. 

With no magic at her disposal, she had no intention of facing the Salem Seven, and even less letting you anywhere near them to save her life. So running was the best and only option she could think of at the moment; that hopefully would give her enough time to figure out a way to restore her magic and be a witch again.

You ran a hand through your hair, eyes glancing only briefly over the boy, who gave you a tight smile in return. A part of you wondered what he was doing still there. Didn't he have places to be, like school or whatever? 

Before Agatha could walk from you again, you reached out to grab her wrist, “So, this is what we will do,” you started, silently enjoying the whiny sound slipping from her lips, “we sit down, talk it out like mature adults, and you–” pointing a finger at the boy, “you’re gonna tell me why you broke into our house in the first place.”

“Uhm.. yeah, I..”

“We don’t have time for this!” Agatha exclaimed, “Need I remind you there’s a price on our heads?” 

A playful smirk tugged at your lips and unable to resist teasing her, you quipped, “technically it’s on yours. I only happen to be in your shit as per usual.” 

The boy let out a quiet chuckle, that you were about to reciprocate hadn't it been for Agatha’s hand flapping at the nape of your neck, “Oof!" you whined. 

Amusement glimmered in her eyes, “You had it coming,” she retorted. Then she glanced over the boy, with a grimace. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got a lot on our plate so if you could just–” She pointed to where the front door used to be, her confidence dimming slightly, “this house is a complete disaster.”

She looked so annoyed right now, tired and scared even, but the latter she would never admit. Completely forgetting about the boy, you focused on Agatha and placed a hand over the small of her back, “it’s not so bad…” you trailed off, resting your chin on her shoulder. She knew you weren't only referring to the conditions of the house. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, her features relaxed when you started stroking her skin, lips barely brushing against a soft spot behind her ear, “we have an excuse to redecorate now.”

Despite everything, Agatha let out a small chuckle. She turned around and draped an arm around your waist. With everything that happened in such a short time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to truly cherish the fact that you were back—the real you. Sure, even without your memories, you stood by Agatha’s side all those years, but having you here now, like in the old days, felt different. It was different. Her eyes darted from your face to your collarbone, nose scrunching up at the sight of the nasty bluish bruise— a reminder of Rio’s hands on you. Her hand glided up to your face, tracing your jawline before slowly moving down to your collarbone, fingers barely grazing your skin, mindful that it was still tender and possibly sore. 

“Are you–?” 

Your eyes softened at the hesitation in her voice, “you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I always worry about what matters," she argued back. 

"Sappy," you teased.

With an eye roll, she smirked, "brat."

When her eyes darted towards the boy once again, she let out an incredulous scoff, “you better have a darn good reason to still be dangling here.” 

Color drained from his face. Quite frankly, Agatha could be intimidating when she tried. Even when she didn't. “I-I do!” He cleared his throat. “I want to walk the Witches' Road. It’s the only reason why I broke in here really and–” he was talking so fast, for a moment you thought your mind had tricked you. There was no way he said the words ‘witches’ and ‘road’ in the same sentence. 

Agatha's eyes snapped wide open, “what’s that you say?”

“The Witches’ Road,” he repeated, slower and firmly. It hit you hard. You couldn't help it. “I want you to take me there,” his eyes softened and so did his voice as he added, “please.”

Agatha tried to meet your eyes then, but you had your gaze dropped to the floor. 

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.”

“You’re lying,” he argued. 

Agatha scoffed bitterly, “am I?”, voice rising in exasperation. 

When you slowly lifted your chin towards the boy, you squint your eyes so much as if you were troubled by a sudden headache, “You’re asking for a death wish here.” 

Agatha agreed, “quite literally.” 

The boy looked crestfallen, but he didn’t back down, “You only say that because you think I’m inexperienced, which is fair. I am. But I can make it to the end-” 

Your lips pursed in a grimace as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. First Rio, then the Salem Seven on your heels, and now this boy who had no idea what he was asking for.

“Look, I love your confidence– but the Road is no place for a kid.”

Agatha sank into the couch in the lounge, curling a finger at you in invitation. Smiling, you obliged, perching yourself on the armrest beside her. You were close enough that her hand could slip to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns over the fabric of your pants. The gentle rhythm of her touch soothed you, and you allowed yourself to calm your nerves, focusing on her proximity and nothing else. 

“I’m sixteen,” he objected, taking a seat onto the chair across from you. 

“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes… nothing.”

You had to stifle a laugh at her sarcastic remark. 

He gave a dramatic eye roll. “Come on! You walked it before and survived!” 

Your brows knit in a frown. Just how much did that boy actually understand about you and Agatha? Or rather, how much did he think he understood? No one truly knew what it had been like for the two of you back in the eighteenth century. People clung to their own assumptions, and you let them—after all, the real truth was far too painful to share. Not a single soul knew the true story behind the reputation Agatha had built, nor the reasons why so many had to die in the first place. 

Agatha’s hand stilled on your thigh, “I had a very good reason to stay alive, plus I’m exceptional.”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely at least. 

The boy’s eyes shifted from Agatha’s to yours. You felt as if he knew what Agatha was talking about you. You saw something, a glimpse of understanding in those eyes that somehow unsettled you. If Agatha was known as ‘witch killer’ for all the wrong reasons, your reputation also preceded you, but you struggled to say the words. 

“I read an egregious amount about you two. I’ve been obsessed since I first came up with your Salem days… the way you two met, and oh my God- don’t get me started on your magic skills.”

So you and Agatha had a little fan. 

Agatha’s interest rose considerably. She grinned, “cute. Isn't he a cute pet?” 

“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by all this interest,” you mused.

The boy completely ignored the fact that Agatha just called him pet. “Sorry, I just– you’re a necromancer witch!” He was now struggling to keep a posed tone of voice, and you found yourself scratching the back of your head, not really used to being praised by your gift/curse. Quite the opposite in fact. “Guilty as charged,” you quipped.

Agatha’s hand moved towards your knee, thumb brushing in a soothing circle there. You smiled inwardly at the gesture.

“Books say witches your kind is so rare, powerful and–”

“harrowed, banished, burned at the stake?” You cut him off in a sing-song tone. 

Agatha snorted, “you name it.”

She knew better than anyone what it felt like to be brushed aside. It was one of the reasons why she could bond with you so easily and so quickly. You understood her before she could even attempt to comprehend the complexity about herself and her power. 

Teen blinked confusedly, “I was gonna say interesting.”

You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath. “Look, we appreciate your enthusiasm. You seem like a really smart boy, and I’m sure you’re destined for great things, but we can’t help you, not with that-” 

“But I saved Agatha from the spell…” his smile turned into a frown and his features dimmed  as a consequence, “I’d have come to you too if she hadn’t locked me up in the closet. But w-wait,” he suddenly came to a halt, eyebrows knitting in a frown as a new question popped up in his mind. “How did you wake up from the hex?”

Agatha knew, but said nothing, leaving the explanations to you.

“It’s hard to explain–” Being a necromancer allowed you to have all sorts of… vibes. Plus your soul was connected to Agatha’s and her life being threatened by something– or rather someone you knew quite well worked as a wake up bell for you, “it’s like a sixth sense, but better. I can always feel when Agatha needs me. I got a pull into reality the moment Rio broke into the house with the purpose of harming her. I felt her aura. She and I– let’s just say our magic works like opposite poles of a magnet.”

Agatha’s features hardened a bit, as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek out of nervousness. Your magic being complementary to Rio’s had caused you more problems than anything else. She almost lost you to her, and that’s something she would probably never forget. 

The boy hummed in thought. He was clearly intrigued by your magic and took a mental note to ask you more questions at the first next opportunity, considering he left his notebook in the car.

“And who’s Rio? I didn’t hear much but– there seemed to be a history–”

“Trouble.”

“A bitch.”

Both you and Agatha said in unison. 

“We don’t really need to talk about her now…” you kept vague, hoping he would catch the silent message passing through your eyes. Talking about her was never easy, not when your feelings for her were so tangled and conflicting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love her anymore, cause you still did. And Agatha... well, she probably did too, however, she would never admit it, not to you and even less to herself. The past clung like a shadow, and neither of you could ever truly forget. The ache of Rio's choices lingered, buried deep, a silent reminder of what your bond once was and could never be again. 

He pressed his lips together and gave you a slow nod of his head in return. 

“I’m curious,” she smacked her lips, your head turned towards her, as she continued, “If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch, why do you need the Road?”

Your eyes widened in shock. Was she really considering this?

“The Road promises that what you’re looking for awaits at its end. I need to walk the road so I can figure out the extent of my power..” he explained and she hummed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Don’t you need power yourself?”

Agatha’s back stiffened, “I most certainly do, yes.”

“She doesn’t need to walk the Witches' Road for that,” you pointed out, glancing at the purple witch with the corner of your eyes. 

The boy was confused. Without giving him too much information, you simply told him that you could share your magic. And, in a way, it was true. A more accurate version would have been explaining that Agatha could kill a witch by absorbing all her power, leaving nothing behind but dust. But that was far too dramatic, plus you were still one hundred percent sure she couldn’t and wouldn’t harm you in any way.

She let out a long, exhausted sigh at your insistence, “For the umpteenth time, I’m not taking your magic–” 

“Ugh!" You groaned. "Aggs, Rio warned us–”

“She mentioned the Salem Seven, didn’t she?” The boy cut you off. “I’m sorry but y-you’ve got zero chances against them without magic, Agatha.” 

She shot him an icy glare, “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Your lips trembled a bit, as you struggled to hold back an amused grin.

“I’m just trying to understand which alternatives you have,” he muttered defensively. 

Agatha opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Nothing that she could use to hush both you and the kid. 

“He’s got a point, you know. You need my magic, like right now.” 

Once again, she ignored you. “Or maybe, we need to walk the Witches' Road one last time.”

The boy’s mouth parted ajar, “Really?”

“Really?” You echoed in a squeak. 

She simply nodded her head, giving you an innocent smile that only fueled your incredulity. You let out a quiet, bitter chuckle right after, at the same time shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Agatha, sweetheart, a word?” 

You held out your hand for her to take, and just like she did a moment ago, you forced a serene, tranquil smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but would have fooled anyone who didn’t know you better. She took your hand, her fingers curling around yours as she let you lead her toward the kitchen. Once you were far enough from the boy to speak more privately, you locked eyes with Agatha. Your face was practically shouting, ‘What the hell?!’ —a silent message that she heard loud and clear, without a single word spoken.

“The Road doesn’t exist! What’s your plan?” 

“We are the only ones aware of that,” she stated matter of factly as if that could be used as a great advantage. “Teen is right, without my magic, I can’t defend myself against the Salem Seven, I can’t protect myself or you.” 

If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could spiral into something much worse. You knew, better than anyone, how deeply it hurt Agatha to feel powerless, especially when it came to protecting those she loved. She had faced this agony with Nicky, and now, here she was again, reliving the same fear, this time, for you. Her own life, in that moment, felt like nothing compared to yours. Because without you in it, there was no existence worth living for her. 

“You could,” you insisted, in a low, almost pleading tone. “if only you took my power–” It was so easy.

“I’m not willing to take any risks with you,” she stepped into your bubble, her hands tightening around your shoulders, in a possessive and yet still attentive way. She wanted you to understand. She needed you to be on her side on this. “I need to make sure I've got control over my thirst first. It's been so long since the last time I did that so I'm sorry but you’ll not be the lab rat for it.”

“Are you really thinking of using the boy?” 

Agatha’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, my God- no! I’m not talking about Teen, you idiot!” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave her a defiant look.

She gave in after a bunch of seconds, “Okay, maybe I did think of him for a minute. He did break the Scarlet Witch’s hex, though." 

You pinched the bridge of your nose at that.

“But we still need to ‘walk’ the Witches Road, except that this time, we aren’t killing anyone,” you’re ready to argue back again, but she didn’t let you, so you bit your bottom lip instead, trying really trying to find the silver lining at the end of this plan. “Here’s what we will do: we gather a coven, make some female friends, sing the Ballad, it doesn’t work, wowie-!, I call them names, they get angry and blast me. I take their magic and stop right before they turn into dust.”

She paused and took into your eyes, letting you assimilate her words, hopeful you’d find her idea good enough, because there was really no time for anything else. 

“So, to recap—,” you cleared your throat, “you’re willing to lie to that kid, to the poor witches we’ll meet along the way, witches who’ll eventually turn against us once they learn our intentions, but you’re not willing to take my magic that’s literally within arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll kill me.” 

She hummed, feeling quite satisfied with your summary, “yep.”

A slow smirk spread across your lips, “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe," she conceded. "But this plan’s gonna work.” Agatha shifted closer, her hands sliding to your hips, her fingers pressing into your skin with a slight possessive touch. 

Your gaze fell to where her hands rested and for a moment, there was silence. 

Time ticked. She waited. 

“Fine. Oh my God- fine–” 

Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a crashing hug. Your pout quickly turned into an amused smile, and finally into a fit of giggles when her lips began peppering kisses all over your face. 

“Atta girl!” She said with a proud grin, to which you responded with a snort. 

You’d be pissed, though, if by the end of the day, you’d be forced to resurrect a bunch of witches. But you kept quiet about that.

[dark-dragon-8]

A Supernatural × Batman crossover where the Batfam are actual cryptids and the brothers are sent to hunt them, only to find out that these guys are pretty much immortal, god like beings whose only weaknesses are each other, the sun and some weird sentient manifestation of their home city that they seem to care about, and most of them already grew out of the second one, since, apparently, the sun only affects them when they're newborns/newly transformed/changed.

The whole reason they ended up in Gotham in the first place was because of some online rumors saying that there is a demon cult in the city, as well as Blüdhaven [it's true, partially, the Bat clan has had several cults and/or religions painting them as godly beings/saviours of Gotham throughout the years, still do (imagine the colonies from F'ing Demon Bats, only this time the cryptid part of them is actually real)] along with shrines for human sacrifices.

At first they thought the locals sold themselves to a Pagan God in exchange for their safety, that the shrines and "holy grounds" spread throughout the city were for blood and human sacrifices and the creatures were feeding on the souls of their followers or something.

Turns out, that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes there were bloody sacrifices at the shrines, but most of the time those were just grieving kids bringing their dead pets to silence's holy grounds for them to be healed, or taken care of, by the spirit and have their souls at peace. But, again, that was rare, and only occurred at the holy grounds themselves rather than the shrines people attended to daily.

Majority of those shrines were filled with books, art supplies, music boxes with ballerinas and, sometimes, you could even find a few trinkets and computer parts, as well as the occasional plates and plastic boxes filled with home cooked meals, sometimes they even put pots and kettles filled to the brim with savory goods and nice tea. Nobody ever touched the food, not even the poor and desperate, when asked why all the brothers received were looks of horror and hushed whispers about how "The bats don't like thieves" and "They'll stop coming by the shrine, maybe even destroy it if we do that"

Dean didn't like it, neither did Sam, they didn't like how the locals, people who barely even bat an eye when they see a dead body on their way to work, get so scared and terrified as soon as they hear of something that might displease the Bats. They tried asking around, trying to figure out what is it that makes them so scared of their dearly beloved deities, after all, they talk about them like such a wonder, like they're the best thing that ever happened to them. Hell, one of them is named Mercy and was revered for its compassion and understanding of those around them.

They only got their answer when investigating a place called Crime Alley. They locals were all the same, if not even more reserved than their city's counterparts, but there was one person, a young girl who couldn't be older than ten that said she'll be willing to answer their questions in return for some money and stories from their time as hunters. They were reluctant at first, but seeing as they haven't had much of an option, they agreed.

"So, Masey" Dean started

"Missy" she corrected

"Right, sorry, Missy, you said that you could tell us what's up regarding those demons"

"Deities" she said sternly, the man simply nodded "And yes, I can do that, but you'll have to do something for me first"

"And what would that be?"

"You said you were a hunter, right?" He nodded "And you also said you have some money. So I want you to give me two hundred dollars, cash, and a written story containing at least three of your adventures with your partner. You can't use big fonts, lie or omit any details from the story, it needs to be one hundred percent real and legible and needs to be at least fifty pages, understood?"

Dean was confused, confused and worried. Why would this child need a story about them hunting monsters? And why did she need it to be so long and accurate? Was she trying to sell them out to the Bats or something? Why was this so important?

A million questions flooded his head and looking at Sammy, he could tell the feeling was very much mutual.

"Um Missy" it was Sam talking to her this time "Why would you want a story of us hunting like that? We could tell you about our time together on the field, if you want, but why do you need that written so meticulously?"

The little girl shook her head before he even finished speaking "No, no, I need it written"

"How so?"

"For Passion, of course"

"Passion?"

"Yeah, Passion, the component watching over Crime Alley, it loves reading stories but only when they're worth it. It doesn't like when people give them stories only to please it or for it to give them undeserved attention. It needs to be good and interesting, a story about two hunters will definitely do that"

The two hunters met each other's eyes, both their expressions filled with worry, apprehension and suspicion.

"And why all the other rules? Why does have to be so long and accurate?"

The girl tilted her head, looking at them as though they've said something stupid "Because you're introducing yourself, maybe"

"I can't just tell you guys all there is to know about the Bat without at least one of the components acknowledging you guys and giving me permission to share that information with outsiders"

"And what makes you think it won't just kill us as soon as it realizes what we do for a living?" They might've been desperate, but that doesn't mean they're going to give an essay about their weaknesses and hunting methods to a freaky, probably homicidal spirit on a silver platter

"Because they like people like you, people who put their lives on the line in order to help those around them. Also" she leveled her gaze with Dean's, which was pretty impressive considering she barely reached his hip "Had it wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been able to take two steps inside Crime Alley without having a heart attack, or your head magically disappearing"

The two brothers tensed, the taller's eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings, hands fishing out a weird cellular device, probably an EMF reader or maybe a bottle of holy water, as the shorter failed to keep up his confident facade in front of the (probably) ten year old (because Dean isn't going to be spooked by a kid that hasn't even reached the double digits yet, he's 𝘯𝘰𝘵)

The little girl laughed, completely ignoring their - very justified!!! - panic "Relax, would ya? Passion doesn't kill people unless they feel like it's necessary"

They didn't seem to be very relaxed, she didn't care, she just told them to meet her again on the border of Crime Alley and its neighbor city in a week, before leaving.

Two hours later, Carrie Kelley was skipping into the main living room of Wayne Manor, where several of her siblings played video games and with their father reading the newspaper on the side, the perfect illusion of a normal, happy, completely human family.

She walked up to Bruce, sitting on the arm of his sofa as the last of her illusion magic slipped away

"Did you do it?"

"I offered them the deal, still not sure if they'll end up actually agreeing to it"

"Mn. You did well"

The young teen preened under the praise, thanking her father before going off to boast and scheme with the rest of her siblings, they were up planning contingencies and devising plans until Sundown.

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[getsuuna]

KNY Fandom so fucking insufferable I'm gonna start behaving like those GiyuShino and SaneKana shippers and go around spreading misinformation and say "no you don't get it SaneGiyuu was implied!!!" /j

because I'd actually have more content to mention without even mischaracterizing them

wanna talk about how they're a two-faced mirror? almost as if they were written to parallel each other and there's so much to talk about on this matter

or, since not everyone in this Fandom can dive into analysis, wanna mention how Shinobu figured Sanemi could've made Giyuu smile by inviting him to eat his fav dish with him? why not ask him directly instead? why Sanemi out of all people?

wanna mention Sanemi's pseudo-obsession on that man? he disliked his ass, but if we go back to analysis, his intolerance to someone feeling superior can be tied to a multitude of factors and one of which is being low-key reminded of himself, and he loathes himself while at the same time he puts on that strong façade. he can't face it though. and he wanted to understand why Giyuu felt that way SO BADLY he went to him for training and tried to speak with him, he wanted a contact, he wanted to understand, he needed Giyuu to speak up but he didn't.

on the other hand don't we wanna talk about Giyuu's perspective? Giyuu never hated him nor did he really feel sad knowing he disliked him, contrary to how he felt towards Obanai. not to mention he even got to be sarcastic towards Sanemi's dumb ass at least twice.

and the iconic ohagi scene? idk about y'all but between the hashira I think that's THE iconic scene, alongside Giyuu and Shinobu beefing and Shinobu almost stabbing him (don't get me wrong platonic GiyuShino has my whole heart)

the first time we saw Giyuu smile in the series is while imagining to befriend Sanemi??? and out of everyone he chose Sanemi? the hashira who is canonically the most difficult to talk with?😭 he only ever smiled either for food, for Sanemi or Tanjiro

oh and let's not talk about how Tanjiro, after getting knocked up, wakes up and the first thing Giyuu says is "yeah Shinazugawa left" ..? or the whole novel chapter in which they end up talking about him (supposedly right after that scene in the manga) and Giyuu cheered up. what

anyways, likewise, the first time Sanemi was seen smiling genuinely outside of his family was with Giyuu. Obanai and especially Masachika were both closer to him, not to mention the most important person in his life, Genya...yet here we are ig?? (after Giyuu he also smiled more in general, the scene of him smiling at Nezuko was one of my fav panels ever so keep in mind I'm taking in consideration the chronological events and not the impact of the scenes per se)

or let's talk about the most important part in their development which is when they fought together.

Sanemi saving him, telling him not to zone out while throwing the sword at him, it made Giyuu realize he's the water hashira, it was the first time Giyuu acknowledged it. Sanemi influenced Giyuu's character positively, and so far Tanjiro was the only other one who managed to. Sanemi saw him as his ally (rightfully so), and hopefully seeing him fight also made him realize he wasn't that much of a conceited guy, he was just like him, as he initially wanted Giyuu to understand (despite the fact it was a miscommunication)

Sanemi teaming up with Giyuu out of everyone, in such an impactful panel.... idk, if it was a straight ship that would've felt like a confession for the Fandom 💀

they impacted each other's character, they were the only two hashira surviving after facing the same war, they faced similar struggles during their lives (but let's not get into analysis, once again...), they could've understood each other better than anyone else would ever have, and they ended up bonding and eating together

that panel was there, in the middle of other panels all portraying important bonds, whether canon romantic bonds or platonic and sibling-like ones (Tanjiro and Nezuko, the Kamaboko squad, the swordsmiths etc.)

if it wasn't important it wouldn't have been there, but the funniest thing is that if either of them was a woman it would've been considered canon since it also included TanKana, ZenNezu and InoAoi🙏🏻

but oh, if we try to name either of these things and more, people will rightfully say "can't they be friends anymore?", which is valid, but I wonder why this doesn't apply to equally fanon straight ships.

a show so peak has so many fans that are so dense😭😭😭

[hyperdramas]

assumptions | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warning: non-idol au, angst, romance, major league baseball player!seokmin, popular x nobody, depressing themes, unlikely meeting, sprinkles of fluff, miscommunication, pg-13/some suggestive themes (??) mentions of peer pressure, drinking & insecurity, cursing, there IS a happy ending (i promise)

playlist: assumptions, sam geliatry | runaway houses city clouds, tame impala | softcore & reflections, the neighborhood | passion, pinkpantheress

part: 1 of 3 extra note: thank the amazing @slytherinshua for coming up with this absolutely GENIUS idea🙏 / word count: 1.7k (longest thing i've written???)

Even though popular and talented Major League Baseball player Lee Seokmin had everything that eleven-year-old him would've wanted, he felt empty as he watched his own replays on the television.

Seokmin had fame—he was known everywhere, not only for his raw talent as a pitcher, but his model-like qualitites and his supposedly likeable personality. Seokmin had money—he lived in a pretty upscale apartment that was cut off for the rest of society, tucked away on a cliff overlooking the bustling night view. Seokmin had merit—he was praised for his physical ability, humble disposition, and respectable talent.

He had it all, and yet he had absolutely nothing.

Just hours earlier, the crowd's roar was tantalizing, drawing Seokmin in as he stared out at the thousands of fans coming to cheer for him and his team. Now, it sounded static-like and overwhelming, the sound unbearable as he had to switch the television, sighing as he moved away from the suffocating room that was once his comforting living room.

Seokmin's footsteps echoed into the empty, lavish kitchen, white tile unblemished as he searched his fridge. He wasn't hungry, but he looked inside it anyways, closing it moments after as he sighed to himself, hands in his hair as he rested his elbows on the sleek marble countertop.

Why did he feel so empty? He had his teammates if he needed to call, but he didn't want to hear their voices right now. He didn't know why he was angry at them, but he was.

Seokmin was never an angry person—sure, he got fired up at times or had strong opinions that he wasn't going to let go without a fight, but he was never one to just be angry for no reason. Something was bothering with him, but he couldn't figure out what it was or how to stop it.

Why was he even trying anymore?

"Fuck." Seokmin sighed out the curse word, bite still harsh behind it as he let his head fall down on the counter with a hard knock.

A knock at his door brought him out of his sour reverie, and he stared at it confused. He lived far off from the nearest residental area—who was here? How did they get here?

The doorbell rang just seconds later, and Seokmin groaned, tired eyes empty as he made his way to the front door, swinging it open to reveal you, standing in all of your oblivious, confused glory.

"Can I help you?" Seokmin's voice was obviously not the one you were expecting to hear, and you jumped at it, face a hot, blaring red as you realized what was actually going on here.

Your friend had given you an address that a party was going to be at, and you reluctantly promised that you would go. You had followed the directions to the letter, and didn't even think twice about when you arrived at the massive apartment, undeterred by the lack of cars or absence of party music.

You were obviously at the wrong house.

"Can I help you?" Seokmin repeated again—this time around, his voice was sharper, more annoyed. You stood in shock, obviously in denial that this had happened to you.

"Is there a party going on here?" You questioned, and Seokmin blinked, silent before he shook his head slowly. "....No?"

Not only were you at the wrong apartment, but you were at popular celebrity Lee Seokmin's apartment. The Major League Baseball player your little cousin was a fan of was standing right in front of you, in his attractive, dashing glory.

"I'm so at the wrong house." You say awkwardly, and Seokmin just stares at you, just as confused and disturbed as you are. There was this random girl at his door, talking about a party that he had heard absolutely nothing about.

"Yeah, you are." Seokmin actually let out a little laugh at that, eyes crinkling like the ways you say they did on television. You smiled, an even brighter red because the Lee Seokmin was laughing at you.

"Well, I should go. I'm sorry, uh, Mr. Lee." You said, trying to mend the awkwardness you were feeling. Seokmin paused, eyebrows furrowing together slightly as he spoke. "You know who I am?"

"Well, yeah. My—my little cousin—he's a really big fan of you." You reply, mind somewhere else. You're not a big fan of the man or anything, but you have said he's attractive on multiple occasions to your Major League Baseball-enraptured friends (who would not let you live it down if you told them that you had met him by accident).

"That's sweet," He says, and you nod, offering a small 'yeah' as the two of you fall quiet. "We'll, I'll go now." You say, smiling awkwardly as you start to walk away.

"Stop." Seokmin's voice is quick, but strong, and you pause, turning back around as you meet his gaze. His brown eyes were even prettier in person, and the tight, black tank top he was wearing (and you were trying to ignore) just made the whole ordeal even more unbelievable.

"Can you stay?" I just—" Seokmin pauses, struggling to find the right words. He couldn't even believe what was coming out of his mouth right now, but he couldn't seem to stop the words from coming. "I don't want to be alone."

You were stunned, unable to speak for a second as you replayed his words—he was asking you, a random college girl who inputed the wrong directions and ended up at a celebrity's rich-looking apartment—to stay with him.

And here you were, saying yes. "Yeah, uh—sure." You conceded, stepping inside the apartment as you slipped off your shoes.

Everything was so upscale, and you felt out of place, t-shirt and sweatpants doing nothing but making you feel like you were intruding in Seokmin's clean, neat space.

"Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?" Seokmin was in his kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water as he looked to you for your response.

You were watching his back intently, watching how his muscles tensed when he did certain things—he was built, no doubt about it, and you could imagine the curve of his collarbone and dip of his abs from your vantage point.

"Oh, um, water's fine." You answer, noticing that Seokmin had been staring at you for who knows how long, waiting on a reply.

He went to work, filling your glass as he passed it to you. It was cold, and you took a sip, quiet as Seokm looked out the massive window that stood his dining room. The air between you two was still very awkward, but you felt like you could open up about anything to him, and he wouldn't judge you like your mom or friends would.

"So, you live here all alone?" You questioned, and Seokmin nodded, taking another sip of water. "Yeah. It's just me." Seokmin answered, and his hand tightened around the glass. He was so alone, and so miserable.

"What about you? Do you live alone?" Seokmin returns your question, and you shake your head. "I live with a college friend."

"Oh." Seokmin nods, and you nod with him, silence falling over you two again. It was so awkward, sitting with this famous baseball player while drinking cold water and talking about your living situations. Could your night get any weirder?

You studied Seokmin's face, never really paying attention to it while you were talking. All the pictures never really did him justice—his eyes were prettier in person, and you never knew that he had a tiny beauty mark on his cheek. You guess it must've always been covered up, or obscured by his helmet.

His frame was as described by everyone in love with him—he was strong and broad, muscles bulging from his sleeveless tank top.

According to a Men's Health article you read once, Seokmin worked out daily, and they weren't lying—he looks like he was sculped by God, spending hours and hours to get to where he was now.

"Thanks for staying, by the way. I know it was weird, asking you to randomly stay with me in my house." Seokmin becomes timid, and you shake your head, shrugging. "Of course. I mean—I have nothing better to do, and I really didn't want to go to that party my friends were going to."

"You really didn't want to go, did you? You came to the wrong address just you wouldn't have to, huh?" Seokmin laughs, making a joke. You flush, laughing nervously as you set down your glass. "I guess you could say that, yeah."

The laughing dies out between you after a while, and you yawn, eyes growing heavy. Whether it's because the lack of real conversation you and Seokmin are having, or the fact that his voice is so calming and down-to-earth that you could phase into his countertop and sleep forever, you don't know.

"Your eyes are closing." Seokmin says—his voice sounds like he's laughing at you, but you're too busy fighting sleep off that you let it slide. "Well, yeah, I guess so."

"You're getting sleepy, aren't you?" Seokmin questions again, and you nod without thinking, head falling on the countertop as you mumble a yes.

Seokmin leaves his place on the other side of the countertop, making his way over to you as he leads you by the shoulders into his living room. His massive, warm hands engulf your shoulders easily, and you let him lead you, not putting up a fight as he lays you on his plush, velvet couch.

"What will the people think if they found out I was sleeping on your couch?" You muse, half-asleep. Seokmin pauses, brain racing at your simple question—so many things could happen if this were leaked to the public. His clean image would be stained by dating rumors if that happened to you, and Seokmin didn't know what he would do if the word actually got out.

"They're not going to." Seokmin says blankly, and you mumble something before drifting to sleep. Seokmin stares down at you, watching your soft features contort into a neutral expression.

What would reporters say? What would his teammates say? What would his coach say? What would his manager say?

Seokmin didn't know, but he found himself not wanting to think about that as he dimmed the living room's lights, walking upstairs to his room as he stripped himself of his pants and got into his bed, lights going out as he stared into the darkness.

What was he doing?

feedback & reblogs are so appreciated! i wanna hear your thoughts :>

[fireboltposts]

When Chris comes across fanfiction you've written about him

A/N : Hope you like this silly scenario haha. Picture credit goes to the owner. On that note, I wonder if Chan has a secret Tumblr account haha, I wouldn't put it past him.

• It was Chris' day off and he was lying on his bed under the blanket with his phone in his hand, scrolling through his private Instagram that only his close ones knew of and the one he used to stalk his fans.

• As usual, it was his favourite hobby to stalk Stays online, always curious to see what Stays were up to. He was scrolling through edit after edit, some where he was being the adorable Channie and "cute as a button", according to Stays' language, not his, and others where he was in full on wildin' in Christopher mode on stage.

• He chuckled at some of the comments made by Stays and felt shy at the same time. What he gathered was one group of people found him super adorable (he wondered how on earth could people find him adorable when there were the other members in the group) while other Stays were thirsty, each comment made him flustered and left him red in the face, it was like he was in his own episode of Thirst Tweets.

• He scrolled down next to find your fanfiction titled "Dangerous Alliances" pt 15. It was a fanfiction about him. He was intrigued to read it especially seeing the dark edit of himself in a black suit.

• He was fascinated by the way you portrayed him as a powerful and the most feared mafia boss, mysterious and alluring, surrounded by danger. He was used to being seen as the leader and "protective older brother" type, but the idea of him being a dangerous mafia boss was a wild twist to his personality.

• As he starts reading from part 1, he raises his eyebrows at your gritty and intense portrayal of him, surrounded by his seven trusted men, as in the rest of Stray Kids, each one had a different and important role. In the story he had a painful past and he also discovered that his parents were a part of the mafia in the past. He was back and had risen up the ranks.

• As he read on, though, he’d become more intrigued, maybe even amused, secretly flattered by your imaginative take on his character. He’d never imagined anyone thinking of him that way, the dark brooding mafia boss with a dangerous aura only soft for his seven friends and the reader who was not from the mafia but was just as daring and didn't even hesitate to take a bullet for him by his enemy and almost had seen death in the face (his world had almost collapsed that day but he was so so so relieved you were alive).

• Wow, he thought, the female lead here is strong and intense and fiercely loyal to his mafia character and takes no shit as he read the part where your character, the reader, had come back and threatened the enemy that whoever hurt Chris would have her to deal with her, and you had eliminated the threat that made the other mafia families treat you with respect and fear and see you as a force to be reckoned with and not just Chris' lover or just some woman.

• Chan would seriously be impressed by how you turned him into a powerful, mysterious figure, even if it’s such a different side of him. Part of him would want to laugh it off, but he’d find himself getting invested in the storyline, wondering what’s going to happen next. He was shocked when it was revealed that the reader actually was a lost mafia princess on a mission, and that she was seducing him just to eliminate him and all that bullet taking for him was all an act.

• Chris was reading with two eyebrows raised now, completely lost in the storyline. He was eager to know what happened next and kind of wanted a happy ending only to discover that part 16 was not yet posted. He saved the posts and followed your account,clearly wanting to read the next part as soon as it was released.

• After reading, Chan would decide to leave a supportive, playful comment, making sure to stay in character as a fan without giving himself away.

• @ cblurking97 : "OMG, I LOVE this version of Chan! 😳 The way you wrote him as this powerful, feared mafia boss is so intense—it’s like he’s a completely different person! I bet the real Chan would be so shocked if he saw this. 😂 And the twist 😳. Keep it up, author ! You’ve got me hooked!! 👏🔥 I do hope it's a happy ending though 😅".

• Chris would chuckle after posting, secretly entertained by the idea of encouraging you in disguise. He’d feel a bit mischievous, knowing you’d never suspect the actual person you were writing about was hyping you up in the comments.

• Chan would be thoroughly amused by his anonymous support. Part of him would feel proud that someone could see his leadership qualities in such an intense light, even if the setting was a bit extreme.

• His thoughts after commenting would be something like "well, that’s one way to think of me, but wow, this person is really talented… I wonder how the story will end."

• He’d quietly enjoy the way you’d brought such a unique version of him to life and rooting for you as a "fellow fan" from afar, looking forward to the plot development.

A/N : Hope you liked it. Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you did. The rest of my masterlist is here.

[itsjunear]

Comfort

Note: Hello, loves! I guess I disappeared again 😭 I'm sorry, there's been a lot going on these past few weeks, and I wasn’t feeling very well. This is my way of making it up to you ❤❤ I'm still working on the second part of "Shadows and Whispers", but I got sidetracked, and something totally out of my element came out of it. I’m really sorry if this turns out to be a mess, I’ve never written anything obscene and explicit before, so feel free to tell me if it’s terrible! Remember, English isn’t my first language, so if there are any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know! Please take care of yourself! Love you all! 💙💙💙

P.S. I didn’t tag anyone because I wasn’t really sure if you’d want it, especially after disappearing for almost a month. Sorry 😭😭

Words: +1k

Warnings: Obscenity

Summary: Reader goes to comfort Azriel after he's returned from a mission. However, things take a turn, and somehow she finds herself in a sinful situation with the shadowsinger.

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I still didn't understand how the hell I had ended up in this situation.

Or rather, how I had ended up in this position.

My intentions in arriving at Az were completely genuine and innocent. I knew him well enough to know that he was absolutely frustrated with how the mission had ended, just as I also knew that he would try to hide his feelings because that was his way of dealing with everything.

When I arrived at the River House, I found him sitting at the foot of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands tangled in his dark hair. He was so out of it that he didn't even lift his head when he heard me enter and he didn't bother to pick up his wings either, a strong indicator of his mood.

Seeing him like this made my heart ache, and the urge to comfort him took hold of me, so I didn't even think when my feet carried me directly in front of him. Somehow, I sneaked my hand in and gently placed it on his cheek, forcing him to look up. His shadows were scattered and restless.

I wasn't ready for what I found in his hazel eyes: loneliness and resignation. He didn't even try to hide it from me, and that was what scared me the most. I was prepared to face the big wall he put up when something emotional was involved, but I wasn't ready for the honest vulnerability that hit me like a blow to the cheek.

"Aziel..." I let out with a shaky sigh.

He shook his head and for a second my body went rigid as I felt his arms wrap tightly around my waist and rest his head on my stomach. I reacted and instinctively placed one hand on his back, in the middle of his wings, and the other in his hair, scraping gently with my nails. In response, a shiver ran through him, and I stopped my movements abruptly.

"No" It was the first thing I heard him say since I had entered "Please... Just... continue."

I nodded even though I knew he wasn't looking at me and resumed my movements. He relaxed against me and settled his head higher, right between my breasts. HIS shadows calmed down then, and limited themselves to passing through us occasionally.

"Az..." I tried again.

“Y/n…” he interrupted me, pressing himself tighter against my body. "I need this right now. Just... tell me to stop if you don't want it."

I didn't stop him, and he decided to explore a little more, brushing his nose against the edge of my breasts, making me shiver. One of his hands that was on my waist went down to my ass and squeezed hard, but at the same time slowly, as if he wanted to melt into my skin.

A gasp of surprise escaped my lips when I felt him place soft kisses on my breasts, near the nipples, covered only by an old shirt that was too big for me. He put it in his mouth, wetting the shirt, making my hands fly straight to his hair, tangling and pulling gently. A grunt of approval came from Azriel, and all logical thought vanished from my mind, leaving me completely blank and a prisoner of sensations.

His hands became bolder reaching for one of my perfectly fitting breasts and he squeezed, making me gasp.

"You're so beautiful" he said breathily and pulled my shirt up over my head.

My breasts were exposed, and directly at the height of his lips, so he did not hesitate to put them in his mouth. I just arched my back, delighted in the way he made me feel even though I knew this was wrong. Az was very vulnerable right now and it was a miracle that he was showing me this side of him.

That thought hit me like a bucket of cold water and brought my feet back to earth.

"Az," I called after a moment. "We can't..." I gasped as I felt him pull my nipple between his lips. "Listen, I don't think this is a good idea..."

"I need to feel you close. I need to know that you are here with me," he pleaded in a tone of voice I had never heard before, "Making you feel good will make me feel good."

"But I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage..."

"I need this. I need you" he interrupted me.

That took my breath away and the way he looked like I was his only lifeline made me give in, so I finally nodded.

The shadowsinger rewarded me by leaving a wet kiss on my neck before separating for a moment to unbutton his leathers and reveal all his glory. I didn't hold back and gently touched his skin, trying to convey everything I felt through those caresses, trying to tell him that I was there for him and from the way he tensed where my fingers passed, I assumed he could understand it. I even brushed the edge of one of his wings and he shivered violently, not hiding the low moan that escaped.

His hands moved down to unbutton my shorts without leaving soft kisses combined with licks on my neck. I dug my nails carefully into his back, avoiding the membranes, and he let out a hoarse moan that went deep into my bones. He slowly slid my pants down caressing my legs in the process and then helped me out of them once they hit the carpet beneath my feet.

That's how I was left in nothing but panties in front of Azriel, who was looking at me like I was the only damn person in his life that he had ever wanted. I didn't feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, on the contrary, I had the feeling that he was memorizing me.

“Y/n” he ​​called with rapid breathing “You are beautiful, fucking beautiful.”

His words also had more meaning, I realized. It was the second time he had told me this tonight and somehow, he managed to warm my heart.

The shadowsinger manipulated my body to his liking, so he gave me one last open-mouthed kiss right over my heart before turning me over, leaving me on my back now. I felt him fill my spine with kisses and hook his fingers on my panties, slowly lowering them until he left a kiss on my lower back that made me shudder.

Completely naked, she took me by the waist to place me on his lap. I could feel his hardness beneath me, and he hissed when I ground my hips together.

I was sitting in the middle of his legs, until he hooked one of his hands and put one of my legs over his, so that I was wedged over it, although I still rested my back on his chest.

Then he hugged me, imprisoning me in his arms and hiding his face in my neck. His hands then went down, directly to my center, and he began to touch me with gentle movements, slow caresses on the clitoris that made me gasp. A moan escaped from the back of my throat as I felt his fingers slide into my folds and curve them deliciously.

"That's it honey, let me hear you" he whispered in my ear.

He repeated the movement, and my body went crazy when he added another finger. Everything was slow and felt completely different, it felt more intimate, fuller of feeling. His fingers worked magic inside me while he caressed my clit with his thumb. It was too much, and I figured Az could sense it because he sped up his movements.

Another moan escaped my lips as one movement pushed me over the edge and the orgasm rippled through me making me tremble, sweeping through everything. Azriel did not stop his hands, prolonging the sensation and supporting all my weight, since I had practically collapsed on top of him.

After a few seconds, he did something that left me gasping, partly from the orgasm he just gave me, and partly from the sensual sight. He took his fingers out of me, not caring in the least about the mess, and sucked on them, looking into my eyes before resting his forehead against mine.

"Az" I whispered in between a gasp.

He lunged at my lips and there are no words to describe the way he kissed me. It was messy, a combination of tongue and teeth, but it felt perfect, like once in a lifetime, everything fit together.

I walked away after a moment, to catch my breath, and he grimaced as if it physically hurt him not to be around, to which I responded by standing up and climbing up behind him, only this time who hid his face in his neck. It was me, absolutely enjoying the skin-to-skin contact and the way he held me close to his bare chest and mine.

Az didn't care about the mess I was probably making on his leathers still wearing my fluids. He didn't seem interested in any of that.

"Thank you for staying," he said after a moment, wrapping his wings around us.

"You have nothing to thank me for," I responded, taking his face in my hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, now that you're here." He responded and for emphasis, one of his shadows caressed my arm with a cold touch, making me smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked as I ran a finger over the membrane of his wing again.

A shudder consumed him along with a gasp and he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Not yet"

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. Trying to give him comfort beyond words and show him that she was here with him. Not anywhere else.

[h50europe]

8.06 post mortem - Buck/Tommy - General - 9-1-1 Zombified

Many of us wondered why a cut emergency case from episode 7.04 was used. A novelty and if you look closely, you'll notice that the characters appeared very different from how they did in the rest of season 8, and the scenes felt erratic. This inconsistency is reminiscent of the writing from Andrew Meyers, who also wrote episode 7.04. However, in that episode, he had a co-writer who was clearly more talented. Episode 8.06 was poorly written compared to 7.04. Alone the scene in the beginning. Buck could have pointed out that this chick was interrupting the date he had with his boyfriend. Tommy then mentioned the Kinsey scale

Our walking encyclopedia had no idea what his boyfriend was talking about. Seriously? Also, Buck doesn't want to buy a present for their 6-month anniversary, and Tommy gives him 2 Lakers baseball cards and awkwardly mentions that Buck could go with Eddie? Is this dinner supposed to be romantic? Well, they could have gone to McDonalds. Meyers should have consulted his co-writer at this point; we're heading straight for disaster. Then Tim had this wonderful idea with Abby and thought it was hilarious. The guy's humour isn't just weird, it's kind of crude. Abby never mentioned that she went out with another guy from the 118. Isn't that weird? No one ever knew about it? Not Hen, not Chim? For two years? Did Tommy keep her locked in his basement? This plot is so poorly constructed that it's cringe-worthy at best. And that's when Himbo's jaw hit the floor… along with the audience.

The only good scene was Josh's GLEE speech. And I may be reading between the lines, but I felt that the way Josh talked about post and past GLEE and how Buck can't blame Tommy for his actions because times were different was a wink and a nod to the haters. I really had the impression that this was a cunning move to address why Tommy was who he was back then and why he has changed now.

But seconds later I nearly choked on my drink, and I can tell you it's orgasmic when a sip of Pepsi comes out of your nose, when Maddie said, "She wondered how many men Abby had turned gay." Because I was chatting to a friend before I watched the episode and I almost said the same thing. I live in Europe, so I watched it the next day, knowing what was coming, but nothing about that particular scene. Which, frankly, was terrible.

Forgive me for ignoring the emergencies in this episode. They were repetitive, to say the least, just with different protagonists.

So far we have a recycled episode, a recycled ex, a recycled emergency and a recycled scenario, Maddy is pregnant (hooray). It begins to reek of decay.

Brownie points to those who aren't already traumatised or bored to death. Now for the highlight: Tommy shows up at Buck's apartment in a great mood. He is looking forward to a date with his friend and hot sex as the icing on the cake (that's what I had in mind). Tommy gets suspicious when Buck asks him to sit down. It doesn't take long before he pulls out his phone and shows his friend photos of Abby and a younger Buck. This is followed by an awkward explanation of why he didn't share the news in the restaurant, and Tommy's reaction is a little awkward too. But this is only the overture to the worst retconning I have seen on television in a long time. The coincidence is swept under the carpet in the blink of an eye, and now it gets creepy.

Compare the scene in the coffee shop with this one. It has the same structure, bit by bit. Buck invites Tommy to the wedding in the coffee shop, and Tommy says, "What?" Here it is: "I want you to move in with me." We have a mashup of the first kiss and the coffee shop scene, and Oliver plays it similarly. The worst part is when Tommy turns into his zombie version. Excellently played by Lou. No doubt about it. He gave it his all. He maimed that shitty script, which felt like Meyers had raided AO3, picked the worst written fics and went for the most cringe-worthy insult he could find for a bisexual. "I was your first, but I won't be your last." Hello? This topic only comes to Tommy's mind after he is asked to move in together? I was expecting "I can't move in with you because I wouldn't know where to put my car lift and Muay Thai studio". No, it's because all the trust and love Tommy put in Buck is wiped out by the retconning of Tommy's personality. He succumbs to total chaos. This is not the Tommy we met in S7 and certainly not the one we met in 8.05. Fuck me! It didn't make sense. We would have needed a lot more background information ON SCREEN to make it believable. A scene from Tommy's past. Who hurt him so badly? It wasn't Abby. She only managed to traumatise Buck. Was it after he met Abby? Was it another guy?

Hello writers, are you still in your right mind? We have no clues. Neither the loyal fans and certainly not the new ones. You're reducing a character to a sad laughing stock. You rob him of all his merits, which you had Buck recite like a poem in school. And then you expect us to believe it? You steamroll over everything that's been painstakingly built up to this episode? It's actually convenient, I let the whole relationship run off screen. We don't see any flying lessons together, no training together, no cosy get-togethers in front of the TV, no exchange of affection, nothing. It's all headcanon. Guys, I've seen shows and movies where a sequence like this lasted five minutes and you knew where the couple stood. Maybe a flashback or two into Tommy's past would have helped. But no, instead the audience had to put up with the same old nonsense. A ridiculous story about an urn, a guy who sneezes and his intestines fall out, a kid who doesn't fall down a drain but slips down a pipe. They give us nothing, but we're supposed to believe everything, retconning is so great. If any of us wrote fanfiction like that, we'd be banned from AO3. And as if that wasn't enough, Tommy stands up and says, "Believe me, I didn't see this coming either. Tell me, were you on drugs when you were writing? There are a thousand ways to respond sensibly to "Let's move in together" without turning it into such a dumpster fire. The crowning glory of all this madness is when Tommy says "I'll see you around Buck" instead of Evan (the same words he said to Evan when he left him standing outside the restaurant on their first date). Where did that come from? It's as if Tommy had lost all respect for his lover, or as if he wanted to punch him in the face while he was already on the ground. We, the viewers, also had this feeling. And Tommy's behaviour was completely disturbed. I wonder if he checked himself into a mental facility right after that.

I won't say anything about the rest of the episode because I'm a polite person.

Conclusion: Please take the pen away from this lunatic and never let him write anything again or give him a co-writer like in 7.04. The guy is totally unhinged.

Extra brownies, you made it!