#something so deeply perplexing.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

louebel · 1 year ago

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— [ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . . . 𝟐 .ᐟ ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sanji, zoro, mihawk, buggy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread and rushed,, it's not as wholesome as the first and more calm + horny my bad, lowercase, gets a bit explicit with sanji and buggy at the end... i am deeply sorry not. rest is sfw, fluff, and... fluff. usage of "baby, sweetness, honey, good boy" (and... others? i forgot) in all of them except zoro's, lots of caresses and kisses! these are rather short,, anddd dripping divider by @ benkeibear :) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you couldn't help but share the sudden warmth you felt with them, resulting in... a lot of kisses! ... and more. part one is here!! though idk should i repost it? since it's in my archived blog— eh idk maybe not.

— 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈, wc. 699

"sanji... honey..."

a very pleasant smell engulfed the kitchen. sweet and homely, a dish that piqued your appetite. seagulls could be heard outside the sunny, the sun rising slowly to greet all those who continued their lives.

and then there were you two, already awake. sanji always got up earlier, and so you did too, wanting to keep him company at such early hours. you could still hear sanji's wails and the rivers of tears plopping onto the wood at your kind gestures, and you swore you saw the sunny sweatdrop that day. (you were definitely not imagining things...)

"hmm? yes, love?"

his voice was your greatest weakness. freshly awake, groggy with sleep... if only you could both rest right now — what you'd do to feel him tend to your scalp, brushing his treasured fingers upon you, perhaps humming a tune in your ears. you remembered his words: "because my love for you is so profound, i can't contain it" and now, every time he murmurs, you melt a little more, thinking of what he said. of course, not all the time, sometimes he just does it.

sadly, however, you couldn't go back to sleep. he had to cook, and he was going to treat you with the most delicious, mouthwatering breakfast ever, but you'd still be disappointed since what you wanted was... something else. you were so spoiled...

"i think i could get something else for breakfast... it's fine, right?"

now, you know sanji despised wasting food. it wouldn't really be a problem considering luffy, but... why didn't you say anything?

he glanced at you from his shoulder, a bit perplexed. he felt his heart flutter as you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his tender nape.

"sweetness?"

"... those are definitely sweet," you pointed at the pancakes, already smiling, "but i think you're sweeter."

it was only morning, damnit. and yet here he was, already blushing, cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. a small chuckle rumbled from his chest, the cook lowering the heat as the first batch was ready, before turning to you and pressing a tender kiss upon your forehead.

"you do, love?"

"mhm. and, you know, i'd really like if you gave me some of your love right now. i think that's the most sweet... 'm thinking about just sitting here and kissing you all over while telling you "i love you, i love you, i love you" ," you brought his hand to your chest, smiling at how his visible eye softened. "feels really warm right here, just thinking 'bout it..." you were so wonderful that sanji might just die on the spot.

"oh, love... you can't just say those things so early..."

"hmm? and why not?"

"... m—might faint."

fainting in your arms didn't sound so bad though, he thought dreamily.

"ppff... if you faint, i won't shower you with kisses."

"i won't faint."

you giggled at his suddenly determined tone. tenderly brushing your lips around the side of his neck, you nudged his jaw, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling him tense beneath your skimming fingers. his flesh felt firmer to the touch, lineaments of his abdomen and torso defined with each part you mapped.

"hmm... i love you so much, sanji. really love you, hon."

"... a—ah, getting handsy, aren't you?"

you loved how he got so flustered with just a couple of touches. he shuddered as you placed your hand on the crook of his neck, pulse quickening beneath your thumb. he was rather sensitive, there, too...

"you— you know, i, hnngh, think you're the sweetest..." he whimpered, his slender fingers finding your tantalizing ones.

"hmmm? is that so, honey?"

"y—yes — ohh... love..."

you were gliding dangerously lower...

"mmm... you're so hard, sanji." oh... "i think you should relax a bit before cooking..." oh my... "it's so early... you need proper rest." ba-dump.

"... i—i do, don't i? heh... hehe..."

"yeah, you do. come on... i'll show you just how sweet i am. will give you all my love. you want that, baby?"

"oh, ooh please... goodness, don't—don't hold back, mon ange..."

"mhm... good boy. relax..."

and soft moans soon filled the piquant kitchen — followed by smooches, wet sounds, and declarations of love from both ends.

you truly were the sweetest in his eyes.

— 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎, wc. 388

"zoro... your face looks pretty kissable today."

sometimes, zoro had no idea what went through your head. you've both been sitting on the deck, zoro against the mast and you lying your head on his lap. he was going to take a nap but it seemed you were feeling chatty, so he decided to entertain you for a little while before he dozed off.

he had no idea what you were thinking, but he liked it.

"does it?" he mumbled, gazing down at you to see you shift in his lap, eyebrow raising as you got up and cuddled to his side, chin on his shoulder. he tilted his head slightly, seeing your pupils dilating at the sight of him; already quite big as the sun was setting. he smirked, though the expression on your face only made his heart beat faster.

you looked completely smitten.

"yep. very."

"hmm..."

smooch. smooch. smooch.

"oi..."

and he probably did, too, in his own way. he couldn't see it, but you did. how he relaxed, how he so softly sighed. you smiled, realizing just how much he laid himself bare to you. it wasn't the same trust he shared with luffy, no. it was something more intimate. something... sweeter. and with each osculate to his neck and jaw, zoro loosened just a bit further, his consciousness slowly slipping away.

"hm. thought you said my face." yet, he still taunted you, with that stupid smug grin on his lips. you rolled your eyes, continuing to pamper him with love.

"shut up. mm..."

smooch.

"love you, zoro. so much."

you slowly pushed him down on the floor, the swordsman tensing a little before following your silent command. you lay on his body, his arms splayed on the wood, eye closed as you kissed his eyelid, brow, and nose. a reddish hue colored his cheeks, chuckling as your tiny, adoring pecks tickled his skin.

so lovely.

" 'that so..?"

"yeah."

your eyes mitigated further, noting the corners of his mouth curve up more. you were lucky...

"mhh... y'know, i think you look pretty kissable today, too."

he'll rearrange his naps, just for you. with a kiss to your lips, he sealed the unspoken "i love you" with his tender actions — his heart all yours.

and he'd care for your own... like one of his swords.

— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊, wc. 338

perona was speechless. she knew, she knew. she knew that you were dracule's lover...

"miiiiihaaawk... will you look at me?"

but what she witnessed was as surprising as the first time you told her that.

you grinned at the sighing warlord, shutting his book as you've been pestering him for minutes. arms wrapped around him, kisses to his neck — he wasn't a man easily swayed, even by you. the armchair leaned back as he finally eased, your form against his soft.

"... do you have nothing to do?" he huffed, rather tired of your games. interrupting him was almost sin; perona had no idea how you lived. were these the privileges of being dracule mihawk's partner? he treated you so differently... how could you even fall for someone as brooding as him? every time she did something nice, like give him pastries or clean the castle as she had nothing to do, he'd ignore her completely. (though he appreciated it.)

"i do. i'm loving you." yet here he was, letting you speak and do as you wished with a faint smile on his face. he looked like a big cat.

"something other than that."

"hmm... no. i wanna love you right now."

the longer she watched from her little corner, the more her mind crumbled.

"... you're impossible."

"but you love me too. like how i love you. i love you a lot."

you were so... mushy. something that did not connect to mihawk at all — unless you were around. his actions conveyed what he felt, even if they were scarce at the moment.

"you..."

"like, a looot. you know? a lot. i really do."

but... no words would topple from his mouth, perona was sure of that.

"i reciprocate." incredibly sure.

"c'mon, say it." there was no way.

"... i love you too."

"there you go. good boy."

he could only sigh at your antics — though inside he felt as warm as a star. after that, perona left her hiding spot and dragged her jaw that sat on the floor.

— 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍, wc. 426

buggy was not happy.

he was not happy you gave him a kiss, in front of his whole crew, completely unbothered as you pretty much established he was yours. he did not like it. at all.

"just..! what do you think you're doing?! kissing me out of nowhere? they have no idea we're together! what if someone took a photo!—"

"did i tell you?"

"—tell me what?"

you chuckled while he blinked. it was always funny how simple it was to make him stop; one word and he'd immediately listen to you. it was as if his own temporarily had no weight, just to hear your own thoughts, only to slander them later or actually agree with them.

most of the time, he ended up stuttering. you loved how much he hated you teasing him; it became your favorite pastime.

"you look incredibly cute." your grin always meant trouble.

"my nose looks redder than usual??"

your chuckle the last sound he heard,

"no. you, look, cute. cute. adorable. precious." and your words forever his downfall.

you could see his cheeks gaining color, a pretty rouge that matched his lipstick and nose, mirth decorating your face at the view. he was just so, so so cute. but when he snorted and flailed his hands around with parts of his body floating at the use of his devil fruit... that's when he got even cuter.

"y—you say that all the time!" he squeaked and pointed at you, stomping closer to you to somehow look "threatening". in reality, he was just a cub. you kept on smiling, looking at him with an adoring gaze that managed to make his poor heart stop — your affection a treat he relished.

"i mean it." plus, when your voice had that adoring tone... he could do nothing but take what you said. maybe he was just making a big deal out of things...

"w—well! of course you mean it, hahaha! i'm... buggy the... aah..."

his eyes almost popped out of his sockets as you got closer to him; wrapping your arms around his waist, teeth nibbling his neck. a tiny, soft moan that made you shudder left buggy's lips, already trembling.

oh...

"... mm... love you so much, baby. 'm sure they don't mind the kiss... come here."

he could barely get a word in, before his squeals and whimpers reached even those outside, as all of his skin got caressed by your lips. soon, he was screaming "i love you too!" and your stunt was the last thing he thought about.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n

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sgojoenthusiast · 2 months ago

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angel.

✧.* toji fushiguro x reader

summary:

toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him. Until, that is, he met you.

cw: smut, oral, blowjobs, creampie, rough, sucker for simp toji tbh, orgasm denial ish

word count: 1.7k

likes, comments & reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

Toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him because the outcome was all the same. He’d come, and if she did too then that was that - he’d still get his shit together and leave before the glimmering beams of light began to intrude through the curtains and illuminate her face for just long enough for him to remember it.

To him, sex was never a romantic thing. It was simply a relief. A few brief moments of bliss before the almost immediate realisation of life dawned on him and he’d go back to his typical Monday stresses - his kid, the bills, what he was going to eat tonight, who he was going to kill.

But then, you came into his life. Oh, sweet, bewitching, perfect you. Now, his life had a purpose once more. Now, he woke up with something other than death in his bloodied, war-zone mind. He almost felt unworthy that a real-life angel had been sent to him from above - what had he done to deserve it? You were an animated depiction of the dictionary definition of beauty.

Not only had you invaded his life and imposed all of your perfect elements onto him, such as the way you cared, the way you spoke, and the way you behaved, but you had also completely disfigured the way he fucked.

He couldn’t bear the idea at first. The concept of defiling someone so utterly perfect with all of his corruption and sin was unfathomable. He was a vile guy, yeah, but not even he could tarnish such purity as yourself. However, when the two of you got back to your place after a long date, and he walked you up to your apartment for your own safety (he tells a lie - there was a very slim chance of any danger proposing itself to you in the short walk to your apartment. He simply just couldn't part your side just yet), how was he supposed to ever resist you when you turned around to face him before slowly undoing the top buttons of your blouse as you took his hand and led him straight to your room?

That night, he fucked you in every imaginable way possible - yet the idea of finishing anywhere but inside of your cunt made him feel ill, and has done ever since.

Why would he come anywhere but deep inside of your pussy? Why wouldn’t he want to fill you up to the very brim, stuffed full of his come until it was spilling out uncontrollably? The mere thought of it left him perplexed.

In moments like this, where you’re on your knees with your delicate hands gripping onto his thighs and your soft tongue gliding over the veins of his cock - he found it gruelling to refrain from spilling himself into the back of your throat.

His hand rested on your head, not applying any force to allow you to set your own pace. His head was thrown back and his eyes scrunched in a murderous delight. Every second he spent keeping himself from finishing was a second he struggled to pull you off his dick and throw you onto his sheets.

There was nothing wrong with your mouth - fuck, was there nothing wrong with your mouth - it felt like he was finally experiencing the heaven he’d never truly seen. But when he said that the thought of coming anywhere but your pussy made him ill, he meant it.

You’d asked him so nicely to suck him off, as well. Gotten on your knees the second he got home from his mission as your hands hesitantly danced around his belt, awaiting his approval. He could see the disappointment in your eyes flash for a scarce moment when he asked you to get up - yet the squeal of delight that escaped your parted lips when he scooped you up into his arms and threw you over his shoulder as he began to head for your bedroom made up for every fraction of disappointment he caused you. So how was he supposed to

“Does it not feel good, Toji?” You asked, coaxing him out of his stupor. His head snapped down to look at you with puzzlement in his eyes, asking you all the questions floating about on the tip of his tongue with just one single glance, yet you heard him all the same. “Just, you haven’t came yet and you’ve hardly made any noise.”

Guilt washed over him in waves as he stared at your saddened eyes pouting up at him in confusion. That guilt began to dim when standing next to the conflicting lust he felt at the way his cock throbbed threateningly from the way you were looking up at him with that captivating pout as your hand lazily continued to stroke his cock.

“I.. Fuck, angel. I just can’t do it.”

“What do you me-“ Before you could finish your reply, Toji had you raised in his arms once again as he tossed you onto your bed.

“I gotta cum in this pretty cunt, angel. I can’t explain it, I just have to. Please let me come in your pussy.” He pleaded with you, eyes wide and swimming in oceans of desire. When you slowly nodded up at him, still feeling the lingering surprise from the sudden switch of positions, he wasted no more time talking.

There was no room for questions, not when his tongue was being shoved down your throat and his tip was prodding your hole. How had you gotten so wet just from sucking on his dick? He almost resented himself for not tending to your own needs earlier, but if anyone else had such a filthy mouth wrapped so delightfully around their cock - they wouldn’t be able to think straight either.

A string of curses fell from his lips as he pushed himself inside of you, his forehead resting against your own as your lips parted in pleasure from the way he poked that perfect spot inside of you almost immediately.

He couldn’t ever help himself. You were so magnetic. The way you were sprawled on the mattress as he lifted himself up and threw your leg over his shoulder as he began to pound his cock deep inside of you - it was like streaks of heaven beamed down on you, worshipping you as they should.

The feeling of your pussy helplessly stretching around him, combined with his previous denial of his own orgasm was sending him into an unavoidable spiral - one he was sure he’d feel the effects of for the rest of his days. If he could spend the rest of his life with you looking so angelic underneath him as he thrusted his hardened cock in and out of your wet pussy, he would take that offer in a heartbeat - no matter the cost.

You felt so good around him, sucking him in as if it was the last thing you’d ever do. Toji was no better, his relentless pace and screwed-shut eyes demonstrated that he was losing himself in his pleasure. His hand that wasn’t wrapped securely around your leg reached down to begin stimulating your clit, toying with it so teasingly.

If Toji couldn’t handle it, then you sure as hell couldn’t. Your hands were scrambling for some sort of stability - needing something that could keep you securely in the grasp of sanity’s hands before you succumbed.

Your moans merged with Toji’s, a mixture of broken whines and disgruntled groans echoed throughout the room as you borderline began to scream around his cock - your hands quickly moving to cover your face and muffle your sounds as a sense of rationality clicked in your brain when you realised that your neighbours were most likely either having one hell of a laugh or phoning the police due to a suspected murder scene occurring in your apartment.

Toji wasn’t satisfied though. He couldn’t come outside of your pussy, and he couldn’t come without the sight of your face and the reverberating noises that left your swollen lips. When had he become so picky? He grumbled words of disapproval as his hand left your pulsating clit in order to force your hands above you - the room immediately flooding with the sound of your moans once more - much to Toji’s delight.

He could feel his impending orgasm begin to creep up on him once more, and so he wasted no time as he lifted your other leg over his shoulder and put all of his force into his harsh thrusts. His hand went back to your clit - desperate for you to finish at the same time as him. One after the other, he kept pounding and pounding your poor, abused cunt until there was nothing but a puddle of wetness and a hole practically moulded into his cock.

It was always the familiar feeling of your pussy tightening around him, signalling to him your own orgasm, that sent him those shockwaves of pleasure as he braced himself for the heavy ropes of cum that he was about to fill you up with at any given moment - his pleasure building up at an unstoppable pace as he began to pant out a warning to you.

“Fuck, angel. Gonna come in this slutty little cunt of yours, yeah? Better keep that shit in this time.” He demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative tone that left no space for discussion - not that you could when your entire body had ceased to function at the intensity of your orgasm.

Truly, there was no feeling quite like the one where he was stuffing you full of his cum. He was certain that he’d never get enough of it. Not when it had him throwing his head back with a rough groan and one of his hands gripping the sheets in a deathly hold.

He was so overtaken by his orgasm that he hadn’t processed the feeling of falling onto his back - a gentle hand pushing his chest and silk sheets embracing his back. Nothing could ever change the fact that your lips pressed against his own, could pull him out of a lifelong coma - so when he recognised the press of your soft lips against his own, his eyes sprung to life and his hands flew to your hips - which had somehow found themselves mounted over his torso.

“You wanna fill me up again, handsome?” You laughed, like a goddess above him. He doesn’t think his dick has ever gotten that hard so fast before.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: came out of hiding for this one

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

#fanfic #smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader smut #toji x you smut #🌙 jujutsu kaisen

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fayes-fics · 1 year ago

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Awakening

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: You experience an awakening a few days into your arranged marriage with the Viscount.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, female masturbation, slightly dom/sub (use of little one/my lord), innocence, corruption kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m to f).

Word Count: 3.4k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Request fill for Anon, HERE, about Anthony being arranged married to an innocent reader. Sorry it's taken me so long to write this, Nonny, but I hope you still enjoy it, even though I changed the parameters of the request slightly. Enjoy <3

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is most perplexing.

He is all at once both the best and the worst person you know. A providing husband, but an absent one. A polite, undisputable gentleman, but one who has barely said more than a handful of words to you, his supposed wife. An arrangement was brokered with your father, and now, merely weeks later, you are walking the halls of Aubrey Hall as the new Viscountess Bridgerton but barely feel as if you know your husband.

The night before your wedding, you had received a very vague talk from your mother about how you should expect your new husband to enter your bedchamber and perform his “spousal rights” and that, as his wife, you must allow whatever he decides to do. You still have no earthly idea what that might mean; your room has never once yet seen his presence—on that night or, indeed, any of the four nights since. Part of you worries you have somehow failed to be the wife he needs; part of you is relieved he has not done anything to you that you must endure in some way.

There is one thing you are certain of, though. While Anthony may be distant, almost an absence from your life, always busy with some business or other, there is no doubt you find his countenance pleasing. He is so very dashing and handsome. Earlier today, he swept in from a hunt wearing very tight tan breeches, and the sight caused a funny, warm tingling low in your gut. Between your legs, really. He nodded politely as he swept past you in the hallway, continuing his discussion with his brother as he did so. You twist to watch his retreating figure, wishing you could have the opportunity to speak with him, but the view of his shapely bottom in those tight trousers is at least partial compensation.

So as you lay under the covers on your fifth night alone, your ladies' maids having brushed your hair and taken their leave, you sigh deeply and snuggle into the crispy white sheets. Your thoughts turn to your husband again and that outfit he was wearing. The way those trousers clung to him, the movement of muscle as he strode purposefully. And that sensation rears again—the pulsing between your legs. It seems like your body needs something, but you do not know what. Flushed for some reason, you push away the covers. Before you know it, curiosity has the better of you. While you replay the image of him walking in your mind, your legs fall apart, your hand reflexively falling between them to provide a remedy—almost like an itch you need to scratch.

Your fingers slide through folds of flesh there, and strangely, there is unfamiliar sticky dampness. When you pass your fingers over a particular spot where your two lips meet, you get a pleasurable spike that makes your mouth slack.

Oh.

Almost without meaning to, you keep touching that spot, a call and response that is impossible to resist. The more you rub right there, your body swelling slightly under your movements, the better you feel. A languid buzz in your brain that feels both stimulating and relaxing. When your husband's image pops into your head again, everything suddenly gets sharper and more urgent. And so you do. You think of him. His handsome face, the way his forearms flex when you sit across from him at dinner, and he eats with his sleeves rolled up and again those legs and bottom in those tight trousers. Tumbling images that speed up in your mind as your fingers do the same, powerless to resist.

You are soon gasping and writhing, yet you do not stop; it feels too good. Something almost violent happens in your body, your lungs restricting, your brain buzzing, and suddenly, with a crest of physical delight, you are experiencing something completely novel. There is a squeezing, rippling inside, and you cry out as a remarkable ecstasy takes your body. When eventually the feeling subsides, you collapse back down, panting and bewildered; your whole body flushed, your fingers, still resting between your legs, wettened with a slick substance that could only have come from within you.

Whatever just happened, it's nothing you have been told about before. Not fully understanding, all you know is you want to experience it again. It's addictive, powerful, and so very relaxing once over. You instantly fall into a deep, sated slumber and wake up the most refreshed you have felt in many months.

And so it becomes a habit.

Whenever you feel the need and have a private moment, you retire to your room and touch your body until you feel that pinnacle—often thinking upon the Viscount as you do so. His name even falls from your lips, breathy, almost a tasty morsel, as you find your peak. It is no longer something you only do when you retire to bed for the night. You find yourself doing so any time of day, whenever the mood strikes you, an addictive, fun, illicit thrill. You wonder idly if such a thing is taboo, but you struggle to believe something that feels so good could ever be unacceptable behaviour as long as you are in private, alone.

One week after your wedding, on an uneventful afternoon, you put down your needlework and huff a sigh, your eyes drawn by movement outside. There, riding towards the house at speed across the lawn is Anthony. It's a sunny summer day; he wears only a shirt billowing in the breeze with sleeves pushed up around his elbows. And again, those tan breeches flexing around his legs as the horse gallops, him moving with the beast in a rhythmic motion. Time seems to stand still as you are inexorably drawn to the window to watch the sight coming closer and closer. The whole time your breath becomes more rapid, that telltale throbbing between your legs flares. You decide there is only one course of action.

When he veers off to the left towards the stables to the side of the house, you turn heel and run up the stairs. Keen to have that incredible high. This new, enthralling image will be the star of your thoughts this time. You pass his valet on the stairs and politely nod before scurrying and closing your bedroom door behind you.

You drop your underwear onto the floor, hitching up your dress and chemise around your hips as you throw yourself onto your bed, not even bothering to pull back the bedspread, so very keen to touch yourself.

It doesn't take much, that familiar slick already there, painting your fingers as you slide them against your nub, one hand reaching behind to grasp the headboard as you writhe on your fingers, all thoughts of Anthony and that repetitive bouncing motion of him upon his steed. So wrapped up in pleasure, his name on your lips, you do not hear the knob turning and the door opening.

“My valet told me you were here….” his loud baritone voice rings out around the room but grinds to a halt mid-sentence.

You squeal in surprise; the star of your fantasies standing right before you, skin sunkissed and his hair tousled from his ride, a look of utter shock painting his face.

Instinctively, you clamp your knees together and attempt to push down your dress, but it’s too little, too late. He has seen exactly what you were doing, and now he looks distressed, hIs breathing uneven.

“Did you…. Did you say my name?” The tone is not one you have heard from him before, rough but straining.

You sit up slightly and avert your gaze downwards, abashed he has interrupted your private moment.

“Yes,” you confess quietly.

He takes a hesitant step forward towards the bed and swallows heavily.

“You were touching yourself? And... and saying my name?” he looks almost winded.

“Yes,” again, it's soft, and you chew your lower lip, thinking perhaps you are about to be chastised. He certainly looks very… agitated.

“Do you know what you are doing to yourself?” he blurts out, a vein in his forehead prominent as he locks his jaw.

“Not really,” you admit, “only that when I think of you, I get an ache between my legs, and it feels wonderful when I touch it.”

He makes a strangled noise and closes his eyes, his head tipping back slightly.

“I… I did not expect to consummate yet,” he mutters heavily, “I thought I had more time.” He seems to be talking to himself as much as you.

“What does that mean? Consummate?” you inquire, your mother's words coming to the forefront. Perhaps this is what she was referring to.

“As your husband, I have perhaps been neglectful of my spousal duties,” he says slowly, his head tipping back down to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Duties?” you frown.

“What you were doing to yourself…” he begins, moving closer now so he stands by the bed, “it is because you desire me. I had not considered that may be the case.” He twists his mouth into a thoughtful pout, but you do not miss how he seems to stare at your breasts as they rise and fall inside your stays. “But now that I know it is true… it… changes things.”

“How?” you look up at him, wanting to understand.

A smirk tugs at the left corner of his mouth. “It means there are things I can teach you, things you should know that can happen between a man and a woman. Things you will find pleasurable, just like when you touch yourself. It is my responsibility, as your husband, to show you such things now.” His hand reaches out, and you inhale sharply as it lands upon your raised knee.

“You make it sound more like an obligation than something you want to do,” you respond, voice wavering at the distraction his hand is causing, the viscous throbbing between your legs even heavier now.

“Oh, nothing could be further from the truth; I want to, now that I know you desire it too.” His voice is a soft thrum that makes your nipples peak and a shiver run down your spine.

“Why have you not come to me before, husband?” it sounds breathy even to your ears.

“I thought you disliked me. That this was an arrangement you were enduring. That I should be polite and respectful. Keep my distance, at the least, until you adjust to your new life as Viscountess. Until an heir is needed. But now I know that is not the case…”

His voice is a pleasant low rumble as his hand starts to move, slightly calloused fingertips skirting the soft skin of your inner thigh, your dress and chemise bunching around his toned forearm as he does so.

“What are you…?” your breath quickening now.

“Shhhh, Viscountess, let me help you,” he hushes, and you stare at him with wide eyes as his warm fingers reach your folds. He hisses at the heat and wetness he finds there. “Oh, you really do like me,” he purrs, and something in you makes you lean slowly back onto the padded plush headboard, unable to look away from his face.

“Yes…” you whimper as his thumb, much broader than yours, makes a sideways swipe over your swollen nub.

“How often?” he murmurs, shifting to take a seat on the bed next to you, his thumb never wavering in its slow, intoxicating rhythm,

“How often wh-what?” You stutter, rapidly losing the ability to form words as your body riots, grasping the bedspread on either side of you, scarcely believing how amazing it feels when someone else touches you, especially him.

“How often do you touch yourself and think of me?” his voice gravelly.

“Everyday… so-sometimes m-more than once,” you pant out, your lips tingling, holding his fiery gaze.

“Oh, you naughty little thing,” he growls, and it sets your face aflame. “Touching yourself multiple times a day and thinking of me. Do you reach a peak every time?”

“Y-yes, my lord….”

His eyes flash; he leans in closer so you can smell spiced cologne and traces of his natural body scent, heightened from his riding exertions.

“Please call me that when I'm touching you,” he asks, but it almost sounds like an order, one you are happy to obey.

“Yes, my lord,” you respond instantly.

“Good little one,” he compliments, and the praise makes something bloom inside you, an urgent want to please him.

He changes his thumb’s motion to a circular pattern and presses more insistently. You gasp loud, glancing down at the slight of his toned arm flexing as he moves, his fingers obscured by your dress rucked up around his wrist.

“Tell me, have you put your fingers inside yourself?” his tone still velvety.

“No? What do you mean? I just,” you pause to whimper, “do as you are right now.”

His face turns into a handsome smirk you can't look away from.

“Would you like to find out how it feels to have someone inside your body, little one?” The question is molten, and you swear your entire skin feels too heated and tight.

You just nod, snagging your lower lip with your tooth, and then your eyes bulge as a finger slips lower and presses into a fleshy barrier that resists his touch.

“I can feel you are still intact, a chaste maiden indeed,” he rumbles, and part of you wonders what that means, but you do not ask. “Luckily, there is just enough of an opening for me to do this…”

You moan as a single finger pushes a fraction into your body, something completely novel and profound. You stare at him open-mouthed

“Oh, my dear little thing, I have barely even put the tip of my finger inside and look at you. Wait until it's my cock,” he warns darkly.

“Your what?”

He grabs your hand off the bedding and guides it to the junction of his thighs. Something is hot and hard under there, and you cannot hide your shock even as your hand curls around it and squeezes instinctually.

He growls. “That’s it, feel it. My cock is going to go inside you, right here….” he lectures, and his finger that was teasing pushes deeper into your pussy, aided by the pool of wetness leaking from within.

Again you moan at the invasion, and he looks so proud, pumping the digit slowly as his thumb restarts its movements on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim in a harsh whisper, the feeling so utterly mindblowing.

“No, your lord,” he corrects, preening from what he can do to your body.

“My l-lord….” you amend stutteringly.

He nods his approval and leans over you, his breath warm on your face as he observes your expressions, gauging your response to each move he makes. It's so overwhelming that he is touching you inside and outside your body.

You are rapidly losing the ability to do anything besides make noises and chase sensation; your knees falling further apart, your hand still on his cock, pressing unconsciously with the same rhythm his fingers play your body. He glances down at his lap, his other hand moving from its grip on your wrist to cover yours, his hips tilting a fraction, pressing more insistently into your palm.

“Would you like to come right now?” his breath almost as ragged as yours.

“W-what is that?” you stumble.

He huffs a bemused sound. “When you reach your peak, little one. It is called coming.”

“Yes, please, my lord,” you answer the instant you understand, spiralling fast now, your lungs heaving, your slit hot and slippery, where he teases you.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, and you obey instantly.

He gently removes your hand from his cock, and his fingers slip out of your body. You sense movement on the bed, and he manhandles your feet outwards and upwards towards your hips. Cotton brushing the back of your thighs, and a wave of warm air across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now. A few seconds later, you feel something entirely new— a wet, hot, thick mass sliding through your folds unlike anything else. Your eyes fly open, and you startle to see that Anthony has crawled between your legs and his head is now buried at the apex of your thighs. Then you cry out as he does the same thing again, realising he is using his tongue.

“What the….?” you can't even complete the sentence.

“It is not just my fingers I can use, little one,” he tutors, his tone dusky, his breath hot on the patch of hair between your legs as he pulls up slightly to talk, his eyes burning into yours.

You watch, mesmerised, as he flattens his tongue wide and lowers his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, morphing into a spear as he maps your clit, swirling around all sides. It's so intense your channel flutters, wishing his fingers were still inside you.

“Yes, that is it, you like that, do you not? Come on,” he coaxes as he takes a deep breath, inhaling your body scent. The way he is handling you, so absorbed in you, a euphoric feeling burns behind your ribs at the idea he wants your pleasure.

He envelopes your clitoral hood and sucks hard. His eyes flashing with pride as he has to grab your hips and hold you down, your back arching off the bed, crying out without caring if anyone can hear. The way he growls as you do so tells you exactly how much he wants to hear it, his pride that he can do this to you.

Something primal washes over you as he bites gently on your swollen clit, holding it between his teeth as you feel two fingers at your entrance pushing in, making you cry as you stretch around him, your body accommodating them even as you feel so filled.

“Anthony… Anthony, my lord,” you chant repeatedly as he holds you down with one strong arm and rocks his fingers shallowly into your body, his tongue swirling. It’s a sight that you can’t look away from. His hips flex into the bed almost involuntarily, as if his cock needs friction, too.

You feel that tide rising somehow more potent when orchestrated by him, a white-hot burning where he plays you and a tension in all your muscles.

“Give it to me,” he snarls, muffled, feeling the ripples around your clit and pussy against his face and fingers.

He redoubles his efforts, almost mercilessly lashing you with his tongue, varying pressure and speed. Entirely without meaning to, your hands fly into his hair, loving the sensation of thick curls sinking between your fingers as you grasp his strands, making him cry out right into your body. And it’s precisely what you need.

Every fibre of your being held taut and shaking now snaps, the pressure inside you like a dam breaking, so much more intense than you have ever experienced from just your fingers. Something almost inexplicable, ephemeral, your body experiencing a hundred different things firing at once. Your world contracting and exploding. You can feel your own heartbeat in your extremities, a rush of blood in your ears, eyes screwed shut as you shudder under him, and yet he moves with you as your hips roll in waves, his mouth never leaving your body. You know you are leaking onto his face, your inside clenching powerfully around his fingers. Dimly, you are aware the noises you make are loud, but you find yourself unable to prevent it and don't even want to.

As you recover, he crawls over your prone body as you lay there panting, fundamentally changed in the sharing of this experience with him, of him to be the one to make your body reach its peak. A true awakening of your senses.

It’s then he kisses you for the first time since a cursory brush of lips at the altar on your wedding day. His face musky with your juices, his lips hot, soft and damp as they press to yours. This is so different to that kiss. It's lingering and hot, his lips plush on yours.

His handsome face breaks into a dazzling smile as he looms over you, the back of his hand gently brushing down your cheekbone as you stare up at him dazed, the taste of yourself seeping through your lips. “Rest for now, my dear wife.” His tone is softer now, the use of wife instead of little one making your breath catch. “I shall return tonight, and you shall become a woman,” his voice laden with untold promise.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #1k notes #2k notes #3k notes

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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How about something about being a very soft and feminine person, strong independent in their own way, with Mizu. I like to think she is joins the party and acts as the “woman” for the group, and she just genuinely is a good person. I just want to see Mizu with someone who just cares about them.

This was way too long and whatever else you wanna call it.

‘You’ll die.’ Mizu puts bluntly.

‘I don’t care. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.’ You shrugged, mind made up as you already have packed your essentials for the departure overnight.

Mizu closed their eyes, sighing deeply through the nose before opening their eyes once more to look directly at you with their usual stare. ‘I won’t be held responsible if you were killed unawares.’ They said but the fire of excitement and adventure within your eyes hasn’t faltered once.

Mizu can only wonder how they attract people of similar natures in one way or the other to trail after them like a little horde of stubborn ducklings; A question they’ll couldn’t quite find the answer for.

You have been prone to leave Mizu perplexed since your first met after healing them of their wounds after a particularly heinous fight. Your soft touches and kind encouraging words brought about uncertain feelings within Mizu. Making them feel as though they have somehow ventured off into unfamiliar territory, immediately sending them to act out in self defensive tactics.

Constantly looking over their shoulder, hand clutching at the hilt of their sword, ears and eyes honing in on every snaps of branches and the rustling of bushes, waiting for a potential ambushes or ransacking attempts. Anything that would put their life in any and all levels of risk.

Mizu found themself in a battlefield they weren’t well versed in whenever your face shone with a bright smile upon seeing them in the mornings, presenting them with the clothes they’ve entrusted to you to sew up the worn and torn fabric, seeing as how only you were the one with the tools and the experience for the job. Or how you would often help fix up breakfast for everyone but always end up making yours last, when Mizu asked about this, you just shrugged and told them that you’d rather survive off of scraps if it meant others having full, warm and satisfied bellies.

Mizu only scoffs at this, not thinking too much into your words, but their sharp eyes would immeditly notice the difference in the amount of food you gave them before looking at your own proportions; which was enough to satiate your hunger for the time being but it was obvious that you gave larger portions of food to them. Their eyes would soften somewhat at the gesture, knowing that your words were more than just words, only to harden afterwards when catching you given them frequent side glances.

You would also patch up reopened words that were in harder to reach for Mizu or Tiagen to get to by themselves , much to Mizu’s dismay at the thought of being in such a vulnerable and open position for sabotage. However under your watchful eye, Mizu had learnt over a long period of time to put their trust into you and your seemingly never ending well of talents.

‘Stop doing stuff that’ll only reopen your wounds,’ you scolded, finishing sealing up the last of Mizu’s wounds with a final stitch. ‘I’m staring to run out of thread and alcohol to disinfect the needle with the rate you and Taigen are going at!’ You added, putting your hands on your hips like a disappointed parent.

‘If it displeases you so much to waste resources, then why bother healing me in the first place.’ Mizu responded straightforwardly as they slowly refitted their clothing on their body whilst trying not to reopen any wounds as to not waste the effort you put into putting them back together again. You huffed, knowing that Mizu was still a little on edge with you and the kindness you went out of your way to give them.

You didn’t blame them for being the way they were and only accepted this as their way of acting the only way they knew how and went to sit down next to them, remembering to keep some distance for keep Mizu from unwarranted contact. ‘It’s not the resources that I’m worried about. It’s you.’ You admitted, seeing Mizu look at you from the corner of your eye, looking as though they weren’t expecting that type of response to come from your mouth. That reaction only hurt your heart knowing that a concerning about of people lacked empathy towards their fellow man. It genuinely disgusted you at how easy it was for them to show you their back the moment you’ve outgrown your usage.

‘Me? Why?’ Mizu asked.

You chuckled humourlessly. ‘Is it a sin for me to be concerned about you? To worry about you whenever you come back from where ever you wander off to, suddenly unable to stand on your own two feet without collapsing from immense blood loss?’ Mizu reminded silent and so you took that as a sign to continue. ‘Am I expected to just stand there and not do anything? I’m sorry but I’d rather wast every resource I own on you because if it meant bettering your chances of survival, even if by a margin, then I’d do anything to make that possibility into a guarantee.’ You finished with a smile before getting up to your feet and leaving the room to give Mizu privacy and time to process your words.

Meanwhile Mizu was back to feeling those foreign emotions. They weren’t use to someone caring for them to the extent that you did, not without wanting something in exchange but Mizu noticed that you haven’t even once asked for anything in return for making them breakfast, sewing up their clothes, gifting them sharping stones for their sword nor patching up their wounds. All you did was take care of them and their every needs, so much so that they felt a weird warm within their chest at the memory of your bright smile that you gave them after everything.

You were sweet and soft but strong, firm in your beliefs and posses a strong independence. A true diamond in the rough in regard to everything they’ve bore witness to since childhood. Your attitude towards them was an extreme contrast to everyone else’s, it often caught Mizu off guard in the odd occasion but it wasn’t until now did Mizu come to realised how much their body ached to be tended and cared for by someone like you. They’ve persevered through the hardships they’re forced to call life and bore the scars of said hardships in a multitude of places upon their body, both new and old.

Mizu was use to being alone but now that you entered their life, they were starting to think that they don’t wanna be alone anymore but was a tad hesitant to make the first move on their own accord. If Mizu was grateful for one thing in life, it was the fact that you were in it and by their side for the indefinite future.

#blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu imagines #mizu imagine #blue eye samurai imagine #blue eye samurai imagines #Netflix

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hiitsm · 5 months ago

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Beneath the Surface: The Fourth Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt, Fluff & Smut is included in this Fourth Piece.

Other parts of Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

As Alexia walks out of the airport, a wave of weariness washes over her. The Nike shooting in Paris had been enjoyable, but the long hours of travel for just a brief two-hour shoot, followed by hurried rest at the hotel, left her feeling drained.

Yet amidst the fatigue, her mind couldn't help but dwell on you.

You are her constant thought.

You are her deepest desire.

You are all she truly needs.

However, you are also the one that she has hurt deeply.

As Alexia reached for her suitcase, a tired sigh escaped her lips, but before she could dwell on her thoughts, a message from her sister Alba popped up. Alba was asking her to come over quickly because she had a date and was in need of outfit advice. Despite her exhaustion, Alexia couldn't resist the opportunity to help her sister and perhaps enjoy some bonding time over this special evening she imagined Alba would have.

Standing in front of her sister's door, Alexia took a moment to gather herself. She knew Alba preferred a warning before she entered, so she opted to knock despite having a key. With a deep breath, she summoned a smile and tapped gently on the door.

Within moments, the door swung open, but instead of the worried expression Alexia had anticipated due to outfit stress, Alba greeted her with a mix of quiet irritation and underlying anger, a perplexing combination that Alexia couldn't quite decipher on her sister.

"Come in, tat," Alba said tersely, bypassing the usual hug that signaled something was amiss. Alexia followed her sister into the living room, feeling a sense of unease settle in as she tried to read the unfamiliar look on Alba's face.

As Alexia stepped into Alba's immaculately clean apartment, she couldn't help but feel surprised. Not a single piece of clothing lay on the ground, contrary to what she had expected. "Aren't you stressed about your date?" Alexia asked, concerned for her younger sister's unusually tense demeanor. Alba responded with a deep, irritated sigh.

"¿Qué pasa? ¿Por qué no estás feliz de verme?" Alexia asked quietly, her voice tinged with insecurity. It was unusual for Alba to become irritated so quickly, and Alexia couldn't help but wonder if she had inadvertently done something to upset her sister.

Alexia's thoughts were usually consumed by you.

By your presence.

By your feelings.

By your hurt.

But in this moment, all thoughts of you were absent.

She didn't ponder the lies she had told her mother and sister about the state of her relationship with you, nor did she dwell on the possibility that they might now know the truth.

That she had caused you pain.

It was a strange and unsettling realization that in this crucial moment, she wasn't thinking about you at all. A realization she couldn't afford not to have, especially now when it seemed most critical.

"Pensé en emparejar a mi hermana y mentir sobre ciertas cosas también," Alba scoffed, rolling her eyes at her sister. With each passing second, Alexia felt her irritation growing.

"What do you mean, lie?" she asked, her voice rising slightly in volume.

"Our mami called me last night, absolutely distressed, saying you lied about your relationship status and that y/n is really hurting," Alba shouted, unable to contain her emotions any longer.

Alexia felt a sinking feeling in her chest as her sister's words hit home. "This has been going on for weeks, maybe even months. ¿Alguna vez planeaste ser honesto con nosotros?" Alba's voice softened, filled now with hurt rather than anger.

"Do you realize how foolish I must have looked? I've been texting y/n about you, about us, about our family," Alba lectured her sister, her tone filled with a mix of frustration and concern.

"She kept responding so kindly, but I can only imagine how much she must have been hurting. Our mami still has pictures of the two of you up on her walls. When y/n needed a place to stay, she saw all those reminders. Can you imagine how that must have made her feel?"

As Alexia listened to her sister's words, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her own actions pressing down on her. She knew deep down that Alba was right, and that she deserved this lecture.

"And the most foolish thing is that you don't care. You don't care that those pictures are still up on the wall," Alba's words cut deep into Alexia's heart. It hurt her immensely because she did care.

She cared deeply about those pictures on her mother's wall.

She cared about you.

She cares about you a lot.

All she ever wanted was to make things right, never intending to hurt you so profoundly.

But now, faced with the consequences of her actions, she felt lost and overwhelmed, unsure of how to make amends.

"No, me importa. Realmente lo hago," Alexia confessed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she struggled to articulate her feelings. "I know I've been foolish," she admitted, her voice breaking completely. "I want to make it right," she gasped for air, overwhelmed with emotion. Alba, understanding her sister's pain, drew her close into a comforting embrace.

"Quiero hacerlo bien pero no sé cómo," Alexia murmured against her sister's shoulder, her voice muffled by tears.

"You need to start by being honest. Honest with us, but most importantly, honest with yourself," Alba spoke gently yet firmly, her words carrying the weight of disappointment and concern.

"The Putellas don't break someone's heart by writing a letter and disappearing without any explanation, by ghosting someone completely from their life," Alba's voice held a firm but caring tone, emphasizing her deep concern.

"I don't know how you can make this right, but I do know that y/n is still hurting a lot." Her words carried a weight of sadness and empathy, expressing the gravity of the situation.

"Pero te ayudaré a intentarlo," Alba added softly with a gentle sigh, offering her sister a glimmer of hope and support amidst the difficult conversation.

"Quiero intentarlo," Alexia said with determination in her voice.

"¡Bebita!" you hear softly at first, then more urgently. "¡Bebita, wake up!" The voice grows louder, accompanied by a gentle hand caressing your cheek. Reluctant to leave the comfort of your dream, you resist waking up, but eventually, your eyes flutter open.

You see your girlfriend leaning over you, her damp hair cascading slightly to one side after her post-training shower. The bed dips as she settles next to you, and a soft smile plays on her lips. "You're awake," she murmurs, her tone affectionate.

You stretch lightly before shifting your weight onto her lap, finding a comfortable position despite the awkwardness. "Hmm, someone's a little clingy," she teases, her voice tender.

"What time is it?" you ask in your raspy morning voice, a sound that she finds irresistibly attractive.

"It's a bit after 9 am," she replies, meeting your gaze with warmth in her eyes.

"How early was your training?" confusion lingers in your expression, prompting a chuckle from her.

"It was just a quick gym session by myself, bebita. I don't have team training today," she answers softly, knowing you'll appreciate the reassurance.

She lightly stroked your bare back, grounding you in the moment with a sensation that mirrored the dream you'd just left. Your cheeks flushed red with a hint of embarrassment, and you awkwardly shifted out of her embrace, pulling the covers up to your neck. Alexia looked up, concern flickering across her features.

"Are you cold, mi vida? Should I turn up the heating?" She moved towards the heater, ready to adjust it, but you quickly reassured her with a strange smile. "No, it's okay," you murmured.

"Okay, what's going on?" Her voice was gentle yet knowing. She crossed her arms, her eyebrow arching teasingly, a look that usually prompted you to spill everything. But today, you resisted, trying your best to compose yourself.

"Please, can you make me a coffee? I'll be there in a second," you said, your voice tinged with insecurity.

"Fine..." she acquiesced with a hint of mischief, darting away momentarily only to return to the bed in a flash, faster than your groggy state could anticipate. "But you're coming with me, amor," she declared, grinning mischievously as she wrested the covers from your grasp and swept them off the bed.

You lay there, uncertain of what to do next, feeling exposed under her appreciative gaze as she scanned your nearly naked body, your boxers clinging to your skin. Her eyes widened as they settled on the wet spot between your legs. Flustered, you instinctively covered yourself with your hand, cheeks burning crimson.

"Please, just leave," you pleaded softly, feeling vulnerable and overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion into your intimate moment.

"Did you..." Alexia began, unsure of how to react to the situation unfolding before her.

"It was just a dream with you in it, I promise," you responded quickly, attempting to reassure her.

Alexia felt a surge of arousal at the thought that you had a wet dream about her. Yet, seeing you shielding yourself from her view made her pause. You looked as though you didn't feel safe with her in that vulnerable moment. She knew about your past relationship, how toxic it had been with your previous partner. All she wanted now was to reassure you that everything was okay, that it was completely normal.

"It's okay," Alexia said softly, moving closer to you with a gentle touch. "It's completely normal, mi amor. You don't have to feel embarrassed with me. I'm here for you, and I want you to feel safe." She spoke with sincerity, hoping her words would offer you the comfort and reassurance you needed in that moment of vulnerability.

"You do believe me, right?" you asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

"I trust you, and I will always believe you, mi vida," Alexia reassured you with a soft smile, her touch bringing a sense of calmness back to you.

"Is it weird that I want you now?" you blurted out, cheeks flushing once more as the realization hit you.

Alexia gently cupped your cheeks in her hands. "No, that will never be weird. I want you now just as much as you want me," she said reassuringly before leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. Her touch and words filled you with warmth and a deep sense of acceptance, melting away any remaining insecurity or doubt.

The two of you lost yourselves in each other's kisses, the intimacy deepening with each tender touch. Alexia's body weight shifted slightly onto yours, her hands gently caressing your breasts, eliciting soft moans from you in response. Your hips instinctively lifted, seeking more friction, but Alexia was still partially seated on the bed, leaving you wanting.

The air was thick with desire and the sweet tension of longing as you both savored the closeness and the gentle exploration of each other's bodies.

Alexia grinned slightly as she pulled away, her finger trailing lightly over your body until it stopped at the wet patch on your boxers. "I love that view, amor," she murmured, her voice filled with appreciation for the slick contrast.

You looked at her and couldn't help but notice the desire in her eyes, which only heightened your own arousal. "Are you as turned on as me?" you asked, biting your lower lip suggestively.

Understanding your hint, Alexia teasingly pulled off her clothes, leaving on her Brazilian string. "Do you see that, mi vida?" she said cheekily, gesturing to herself.

You nodded eagerly, taking in the enticing sight. Unable to resist, your hand grazed over her underwear, feeling the slick fabric that mirrored your own arousal.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you in the gym," she whispered huskily into your ear, nibbling softly on your earlobe.

And then she was lying flush against your body, her weight pressing down gently as your legs spread instinctively. She began to grind against your core, the sensation of the barely-there fabric intensifying the pleasure for both of you.

You both knew that it wouldn't take long to reach that edge, to tip over into ecstasy together. The air was filled with anticipation and desire, each movement bringing you closer to the blissful release you both craved.

"Y/n..?" you heard from a distance. "Y/n..!" someone shook you gently, pulling you out of your reverie.

Blinking, you refocused on your colleague who looked at you with irritation. "God, where were you just now?" she sighed impatiently. "Please, keep it together and help us clear these tables."

You immediately snapped into action, feeling slightly embarrassed that you couldn't shake off the memory that had consumed your thoughts all day.

From waking up in the morning to commuting to work, and now at work itself, your mind had been fixated on that moment.

The moment when you had felt so safe and cherished with her.

With your girlfriend.

With your ex-girlfriend.

With Alexia.

For weeks after receiving that heartbreaking letter, your thoughts were consumed by her. You wrestled with the pain she caused, yet also cherished the memories of the beautiful moments you shared together.

You believed that confiding in Eli would bring you closure, but now you realize that closure remains elusive without understanding why Alexia chose to walk away.

Reflecting on it all, you find yourself caught between the bittersweet nostalgia of what was and the lingering ache of unanswered questions. Despite the passage of time, her absence still casts a shadow over your heart, leaving you yearning for clarity that seems just out of reach.

And then, to add to the confusion, someone walked in.

She bore a striking resemblance to your ex-girlfriend. Your heart skipped a beat, but you dared not raise your hopes any higher.

Yet, there she stood, your ex-girlfriend, looking unsure of herself, hands tucked nervously into her pockets.

She appeared smaller somehow, vulnerable.

At that moment, you realized you didn't want the answers anymore.

Confronting her seemed too painful now, her presence stirring up emotions you had tried to bury.

But despite your inner turmoil, your feet carried you towards her.

Your body ached for her, and if you were honest with yourself, so did your mind.

As you approached, uncertainty hung heavy in the air. The sight of her brought a flood of memories, both joy and heartache, that you weren't sure you were ready to face again.

"...Hi," she struggled to get the words out, her voice trembling with uncertainty. But you remained silent, unable to muster a response. You could only gaze at her with wide, conflicted eyes that held a mix of confusion and hurt.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to talk," she continued, her insecurity palpable, tugging at your heartstrings. You knew you would always have a soft spot for her.

"Not here, obviously," she hurriedly added, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment at her awkward statement. "But I knew you would be here sometime this week."

"It's okay," you managed to say, surprising yourself with the ease of your acceptance. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I mean, I would like to," you added, your voice tinged with hope as you sought answers.

"Tonight at my place, 8 pm?" you asked tentatively, your gaze searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

"Si, I'll see you there," she replied determinedly, a hint of relief evident in her voice.

"Okay," you said softly, the weight of the moment sinking in.

"Okay," she echoed, standing awkwardly before finally saying, "Okay, see you tonight," and turning to leave, her awkwardness making you chuckle softly.

As she walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation about what the evening would bring, hoping it would bring clarity and closure to the lingering questions in your heart.

As you made your way towards the dishes area of your workplace, preparing to immerse yourself in work once more, a subtle but unmistakable feeling washed over you.

It was as if the fourth broken piece of your heart lay right before you, waiting to be picked up and nurtured once again.

The weight of past memories and unresolved emotions lingered in the air, mingling with a sense of tentative hope for closure and healing.

Each step forward felt like a small leap towards reclaiming a part of yourself that had been left wounded and unattended for too long.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the tasks ahead, knowing that tonight's meeting held the potential to mend what had been fractured and bring solace to a heart that had carried its pain for far too long.

Note: it took a bit longer than expected, but I hope you're still enjoying this series. There's more to come, and I'm looking forward to continuing the journey with you all.

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso smut #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine

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pseudowho · 9 months ago

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Thinking about being Higuruma Hiromi's workplace bestie.

Thinking about showing up to the office for work one morning, and seeing Hiromi's not there. Automatically, you know your day is going to be long, tedious, dull. Maybe you'll actually get some work done for once.

Still, you'll miss making faces at each other at the meeting which could have been an email. You'll miss his sardonic, snippy responses to courtroom drama. You'll miss the way he calls his wastepaper bin his 'suggestions box'. You'll miss the way he sits, legs crossed on your desk, jiggling his foot constantly as you review case files together.

"Husband not in, huh?" Your colleague teases gently, and you roll your eyes, calling back over your shoulder; "Bestie, not husband!"

You sigh, walking to the office kitchen; his turn to make coffee today, but it's now just coffee for one, sadly--

"No no no, out you go, my turn to make coffee today, you--"

"Hiromi!" You squeal, visibly wiggling with delight, and Hiromi turns around with the coffee pot in his hands, briefly joining in with your happy dance, wiggling too.

"I thought you weren't in, I was ready for such a boring day!" You state, dramatic, giving his upper arm an affectionate squeeze. Hiromi tuts, "As if I'd just leave you to the wolves like that," stirring your pair of office mugs ("Mr" and "Mrs", only semi-ironically gifted to you from your Secret Santa last year).

The rest of the morning is lost in bright colours, in-jokes, corny jokes, office gossip ("You know I don't do gossip," Hiromi chides, black brows furrowed, turning his back on you momentarily...before spinning back round, leaning in and whispering, "Just pulling your leg-- tell me everything, in excruciating detail."), and getting your work done at ruthlessly efficient speeds, so in-tune are you with each other.

The endless days and weeks of being too busy to talk properly, leaving each other goofy post-in notes in files, on desks, on coffee mugs, and gradually more eccentric places-- the inside bottom of his wastepaper bin, under the printer lid, Hiromi somehow manages to sneak one onto the bottom of your shoe.

Hiromi loses almost all of his cases-- you are used to consoling him through this. Every loss wounds him. But why do they start to wound you, too? Before you can think on it too deeply, Hiromi bangs into your office one day, and you gasp, slopping coffee over your paperwork. You look up, about to curse at him--

"...you didn't," you challenge, joy blooming on Hiromi's face, and you realise, jumping up with a cheer and a clap, "You did? Oh, you won, you clever thing you, oh Hiromi!"

Hiromi fizzes like sherbet for the rest of the day, his melancholy blown away by your celebration of him. His favourite work-person-bestie-wife. He could chat with you like this all night, if only you'd let him.

Days without each other become woefully empty. The colours wash out of the walls. You barely laugh. You go home without a sense of achievement, but with the sense of a day wasted in solitude and loneliness. All of your other colleagues notice, eyebrows raised, knowing sideways glances...but you and Hiromi do not. Just work besties.

You give each other affectionate jostles goodbye when you pass each other in the corridor, folders in arms, sometimes transferring them to each other, before jostling again; "love you, byeee" (ironically, of course), as you skip and he lopes away down the corridor.

Except, one day, Hiromi's eyes are dark and distant during the jostle, the handover of paperwork, distracted and lost in something bigger...and absentmindedly he leans in, kissing you on the lips right there in the corridor, "love you, byy-"

You touch your lips. Hiromi's tongue darts out to taste his. You are both stunned, perplexed, blushing and flustered--

-- just work besties.

#jjk #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #higuruma #hiromi x reader #jjk hiromi #hiromi hiromi hiromi #hiromi jjk #hiromi higuruma fluff #higuruma smut #higuruma x reader #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma angst #hiromi higuruma

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thesilmarillionblog · 11 days ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 5

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: confessions, heavy angst, sick reader, distant Dean, insecure reader, painful, jealousy, misunderstandings, edgy

Word Count: 10.2k

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Now the One You Once Loved Is Leaving' by Lydia.

Dean was disturbed by the frantic knocking on the door and felt helpless to stop you from sobbing. He had absolutely no idea what was wrong. Minutes earlier, everything between you and him was perfect in every way. But suddenly, the moment you spent together had become an absolute misery.

If someone hadn't been beating on the door as if he were going to break it, he might have tried to talk to you about it and figure out what problem you were suffering from. The idea of pushing you made him feel quite sick. Dean believed he had worked very hard to make sure you desired this. He wouldn't have touched you in the first place if he felt even a little hesitation.

Without a doubt, you and him needed to talk about that. However, it wasn't the right time. He knew you needed a little time and you needed to get out of here right away. It hurt to see you cry like you lost someone. Once again.

Fuck the ghost.

You did your best to stop weeping, adjusted your outfit, and wiped the tears from your cheeks out of fear that someone might catch you and Dean. You felt terrible for abruptly having a breakdown and made Dean feel dreadful, spoiling the lovely night. A beautiful Halloween may have been. The perplexity on his face was palpable. You wanted to cry more at the notion of him never touching you again, but you attempted to keep your focus on the present so as not to make a scene and make things worse than they already were. Later on, you would try to explain yourself. That was something you owed him.

Dean sighed deeply and stood up, watching you wipe away your tears as your crying gradually turned into regular breathing. You tried to persuade him that you were the only one responsible for this and that it was just a moment of weakness on your side. You didn't intentionally ruin it after kissing him first.

You secretly wanted him to console you, calm you, and convince you that everything was okay and that you two could fix whatever the problem was. But he remained silent, which just increased your sense of solitude.

However, if he questioned ‘why’ how could you really explain that you were just lovesick?

You wanted to depart as quickly as possible, so you pushed yourself to stop crying before Dean got to the door and unlocked it himself. Robb was the one who was almost angrily banging on the door. When he noticed your teary, red eyes and Dean standing behind you, gazing at Robb with an obviously irate expression, his fist kicking the door stopped.

His voice was worried as he questioned, “What the hell happened to you?” Robb was clearly taken aback by your facial reaction. His fist loosened as it made contact with your arms.

You felt like you could start crying in front of them again when he gave you a comforting back rub. But since you didn't want to give yourself any more embarrassing yourself, you tried your best to smile and tell him, “I'm alright.”

Robert didn't seem to believe you, and he gave Dean a dubious look while remaining close to you and placing one of his hands on the door. “Did you just force her?” Your eyes widened in disbelief and embarrassment when Robb abruptly snapped while taking a quick glance around the room.

“Robb! Of course not!” you said in panic. You thought someone was about to start a fight when you saw Dean's expression go from one of perplexity to fury. Robb's concern for you was appreciated, but it irritated you to see him accuse Dean of committing such an awful act.

“Seriously,” Robb said, examining your face more closely while softly massaging one of your arms. He then turned to face Dean, who appeared ready to hit Robert at any moment. “What did the two of you do in that room? I became a little curious when one of my friends informed me that you two had gone straight upstairs after entering the home.”

You and Dean looked at each other. There, he was clearly caught up in an internal conflict. He gazed at Robb's arm as it brushed yours, who was acting like he was your lover. He couldn't deny how angry he was at the sight before him. A lot. To be honest, that made Dean want to smash Robert's face already. Let alone his stupid accusation, was enough of a reason for Dean to put the doctor in comatose. He would enjoy this in a very twisted way.

You hurriedly clarified, “We were just curious about the room you talked about earlier,” in the hopes that Robb would stop interrogating you and Dean. You withdrew your arm from his contact in order to set boundaries. You needed a place to relax and rest your ass because your heels were causing so much pain in your feet at the moment.

“What?” Robb asked, puzzled by your bizarre response. You would never be interested in such crap. After all, you weren't a teenager. You've also never been interested in such things before. You were a really reasonable person, as far as he knew you. “But that is not the room I have talked about. For heaven's sake... It's in the dowry. The room is completely empty, plus Jordan isn't even using it.”

As Robert crossed his arms over his chest and gave you and Dean a serious face, you felt your cheeks turn white. You felt faint when you realized that the room in which Dean had fucked you wasn't even the correct one. You were overwhelmed by fear to see Dean's face and his reaction. The only sound you heard was him taking a big breath. At this moment, you didn't want to know what he was thinking.

Dean, however, was the one who informed you that the locked room was the right one. There was nothing at all wrong with you other than starting the process by kissing him out of affection. He came up with the idea, not you. You needed to take an aspirin. You were now feeling somewhat more sick due to your headache.

When Robb opened his lips to ask additional questions that would make you feel worse, you said, “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure.” As he showed you where to find the restroom, then Robert said, “We'll be downstairs with Dean.”

Dean's keen gaze on Robbert was palpable. You thought you'd find the right opportunity for sorting it out later, but the need to boldly stare at his face and pretend that what happened there wasn't anything important was too strong. If only you had enough courage.

Dean wanted to rub you on the back and tell Robb to go fuck himself after seeing your weary and pale face, but he didn't want to make a scene and ruin your evening any further. Even though he didn't appreciate Robb's snobbish words, Dean only nodded to you to indicate that everything was all right. With those deadly shoes, he questioned how you were even walking. You must have been in pain based on the look on your face as you took nearly clumsy steps to the restroom. He wanted to remove them right away from your feet himself.

Fortunately for Robb, he wasn't glancing at you. If he was, he would have stared at your clothes, particularly your skirt, in a spiteful manner, such that Dean would decide to think of a reason to make a scene. Reluctantly, Dean and Robb went downstairs after they watched you go into the bathroom. A few were observing and spoke in whispers. Most of them were dressed foolishly and high as fuck. Dean came to the realization that he had no fun on Halloween. There was nothing at all enjoyable about it.

Only you and the food.

“So,” Robb remarked, passing him a cup of whiskey while they were standing near a table filled with food. His cigarette theme costume made him appear really ridiculous. Yet Robb had figured out a clever way to make use of his height. “What were you two doing up there?”

Angry when someone stepped on his cloak while he was walking by, Dean pulled it to himself. He didn't respond to Robb and kept piling food on his plate for you and him before he consumed a whole pie. In order for you to share in the small feast, he hoped you were hungry. That might make things less awkward between you.

“Isn't it obvious?” As he proceeded to choose sweets to place on his tray, Dean eventually winked. You would love that desert.

“She's not into crap things. I know that,” Robb said with certainty. Dean was getting irritated by his cocky and confident appearance. Even though he was making every effort to avoid saying anything offensive, he had a suspicion that Robb was doing it on purpose. When you were around, he was a little different.

“Then you don't know her.”

“I do know she's a very sensitive and reasonable person,” he said. “She couldn't possibly want to go inside that room and see herself if it is haunted indeed.” Robb took a sip of his whiskey and said "hi" to a few visitors passing by him. Dean seemed irritated at hearing Robb's assurance when mentioning you.

Robert had no idea who you really were, no matter how long you had been friends. He has never witnessed you hunting beasts or ghosts. He was clueless.

“You have no idea,” Dean answered simply, looking at him intently.

“I know her for a long time,” Robb said, sounding almost aggressive. When someone else walked on his cloak again, Dean became irritated and stopped putting food on his plate, pulling his clothing about his arm. “More than you.”

Dean replied, “Don’t talk like you know a shit,” with the same fury. He wondered whether that person was attempting to irritate him so that Dean would punch him in the face, cause a scene in front of you, and so forth. He would have kicked his ass already if he hadn't realized that he was your best buddy, which was dreadful enough.

“You must know,” Dean said, turning to face him with a cunning grin. “There, she showed a lot of curiosity. She wanted to see herself if the rumors were true, and I'm a really encouraging and helpful friend.”

Robb froze at Dean's implication. He was still in touch with your life and choices since you and him never lost contact. You weren't the type to keep significant information from him, especially those who you were interested in. Well, for a long time, you weren't into anybody, so Robert became tense with skepticism as a result of Dean's inappropriate imply. Robb was aware that you would have discussed it over the phone or via text if that guy was that significant and the things he intimated were true. Robb was aware that you were still untouched. He never criticized you for something like that, though it was still unexpected. He respected you.

He was aware that you wanted it to be with someone you loved and cared about, which Robb deeply valued. That's why he was annoyed by Dean's remarks. That man had no shame.

Robb said, almost menacingly, “Be careful what you're talking about,” and Dean took a deep breath to keep his composure. He could tell that the night was coming to an end, with him smashing his nerdy face.

“That's what happened. Both of us were enjoying ourselves there and were a bit curious. Until you showed up,” Dean went on. He wanted Robb to initiate the fight so he could smash an empty plate on his thick idiot head. Dean was no longer smiling. When Dean first saw this man with you that evening, he knew he was going to be a pain in the ass.

“The way she looked was different.”

With a harsh tone, Dean demanded that Robb stop talking so much. “She's fine.” If there was someone else to talk to, it would be better, but Dean just couldn't walk away, knowing Robb would talk to you nonstop. He wondered what you were doing up there.

Robb was right when he said that you weren't at all okay, but Dean chose not to consider that. He couldn't help but notice how fragile and pale you were. Dean didn't understand what actually happened between you. He couldn't remember exactly who made the first move since he was inside of you so abruptly. But it didn't matter. What mattered was the root cause of your extreme sensitivity, which Dean was unable to fully grasp. It was just a wonderful moment, he thought—a chance for you to enjoy yourself in your own hunter ways. Twisted, but hot.

Having sex in a room he believed to be haunted was hellish, but it felt thrilling with you. He had fucked Jo once or twice weeks prior while they were on a ghost hunt, but it had been quick and not quite what Dean was hoping for. He couldn't find the satisfaction he was searching for. Maybe you simply loathed the environment you were in. A warm bed surely would make you feel better. Dean would think about this later.

Given that Dean was either obstinate or an egoistic jerk, Robb inhaled deeply. Dean gave him a proud, secure appearance, and he was undoubtedly aware that he looked good. Robert couldn't help but wonder whether you've been feeling anything recently for an ignorant man like him. But it was difficult to believe that you would genuinely fall in love with someone so egotistical and reckless.

“I know her limits.” Robb didn't say anything too direct to put you in a bad position, only remarked, “We've been friends for too long. And I can say that she wouldn't be possibly keen on lowering such boundaries with a man like you.”

The man in front of Robb continued to make overly explicit comments, so Robb's tone was harsher than he had expected.

“I'm good at destroying stuff, and believe me, there are no other men like me.” Dean waited for you to arrive while checking the stairs. He made sure the plate was stuffed. He was about to punch the man in front of him. He was able to cure himself. So he needed you.

Robb let out a little sigh as he saw Dean was still giving the impression that you were actually interested in him, doing such crap things with him there. But once he saw your fragile, sobbing face, he refused to ignore it and go on

“Cut this off.” Robb said, “She's not like other women you met before,” in a tone so irate that Dean dropped his dish on the table with a harsh move. He was annoyed, surprised by the nerd's anger. He was absolutely trying Dean to make a scene.

“Say something else and I'll break your face,” Dean said, showing his frustration beyond control. In order to inform you that he knocked your friend unconscious in self-defense, he waited for Robb to initiate the fight since the atmosphere was tense. It would only be a defensive move. Reasonably harmless.

Robb's jaw tightened as well, sensing Dean's growing rage. He wasn't scared of that kind of man. But it was unsettling how he didn't give a damn and just concentrated on himself, regardless of what was going on. Robert wasn't sure whether that man was aware that you were still a virgin, but he didn't want to place you in a difficult situation.

“Do you even give a damn about what she is?” Almost in a bored whisper, Robb asked. He was aware that he needed to learn some things. He answered the inquiry as politely as he could, hoping you were still okay and Dean was just playing tricks on him about you.

When Robb asked an absurd question, Dean scowled. He was aware that you were a hunter and an orphan. One of the most sensitive and intimate aspects of your life was that. Dean didn't bring up the topic of your family so as not to upset you. Robb was more foolish than Dean had believed if he had been talking about this.

To demonstrate that he knew you well, Dean remarked, “I know that she's an orphan,” almost in a whisper. Dean was pleased that the doctor was unaware that you were a hunter. He was and would never be that close to you. You were also closer to Dean than anybody could be. Maybe that shouldn't have made him feel proud, but it did.

“She's...untouched,” Robb said. Before he spoke, he peered upstairs. “A virgin. Thus—”

“You lie,” Dean intervened, his fist clenched in what he believed to be an attempt to get Dean to kick his ass. He couldn't possibly be speaking the truth.

Robb was genuinely lecturing Dean, as he was deep in thought. Dean was by himself in front of the table when he heard that he had finally vanished when one of his friends greeted him and drew him to meet others. He drank one glass after another while reminiscing about the first time he fucked you. Dean was certain that he waited long enough before escalating the situation because you didn't say anything before he pushed himself inside of you.

“I wasn't surprised that seeing that face of yours,” Robb said, taking a step back and smiling while sipping his whiskey. “So you keep that attitude to yourself when she's around and stop embarrassing her by implying stupid things.”

Drinking from a glass wasn't enough, so Dean grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started to sip it while still thinking about the time he spent with you. He was aware that you hadn't seen anyone in a while. Because he believed you might wanted more than just being attracted to someone and that your loss for your family was still raw, he didn't ask you the reason that he hasn't seen you with anybody since you first met. It was good you let him touch you as he liked it, but he couldn't have predicted that you were still...virgin until he touched you.

He took a frustrated breath, disturbed that you didn't even provide him with such crucial information. He was unable to explain the rage that was clenching his jaw.

Dean attempted to figure out why you wouldn't have given him such an important thing, but he was unable to come up with a suitable explanation. He made an effort to ignore the pictures of how he had fucked you quick the first time. But he wasn't sure if he would follow through if he knew. That wasn't important to know, though. There was no way he could take it back.

As you watched him sip from a bottle of whiskey, lost in the moment, you muttered, “Dean?”

After cleansing yourself, you felt a little better, but the nausea remained. Your face was still pale, so you wondered whether you were sick. It may have been the cold weather. It could have been better to bring a hoodie or anything else. Your legs were unsteady from the things Robert told you. However, it didn't feel like the right time to bring it up. For a genuine conversation, you and Dean must be alone. You felt terrible at the thought of him being irritated about your sudden collapse when he was literally inside of you.

Since he was unaware that you were by his side, you softly rubbed his arm to draw his attention to you. He finally gave you a glance. For a moment, he appeared rather perplexed.

“Where is Robb?”

He responded, “I-,” but then he arched an eyebrow and dropped the bottle on the table while still examining it between his hands. He seemed startled. You were curious about how much he had already consumed. His mouth was never empty. “I guess he's spending his time with his friends.”

“Alright,” you said, concerned about the change in his behavior.

You picked one of the sweets that looked so good off the table to ease the tension between you. Perhaps the nausea was brought on by the fact that you hadn't eaten anything since the morning. Dean was observing you with a serious expression on his face as you chewed it slowly. You would say he got frustrated if you didn't know him.

After swallowing a little portion, you placed the piece in your palms on the table and said, “Is everything okay?” When Dean's focused gaze was making you feel uneasy, it was difficult to enjoy anything.

“Yeah.”

After finding out the truth about you, Dean couldn't help but feel a little strange about you. He just didn't know how to continue processing things with you without causing you any more pain.

He glanced around for a moment before asking abruptly, “Do you want to leave?”

You were hoping to meet Robert's buddy, the home's owner, and have a chat with him, but Dean didn't seem interested in striking up a conversation. To be honest, you didn't either. You could tell from the experience that you were about to become sick and your heels and feet were hurting. Just going back home would be nicer.

“Yeah, but what about the ghost?”

To be honest, ghosts and hunts didn't really interest you right now. Regarding what happened thirty minutes ago, there were more serious problems between you and Dean that needed attention. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Dean was obviously annoyed, too, based on how he looked. You had to tell him you were the only one responsible. You may tell him that you were simply stressed because of the atmosphere. Nothing more.

Dean just muttered, “I'll think about it later,” and he watched you expectantly to see whether you were prepared to go. He then took the plate he had prepared for both of you.

“Alright.”

Dean held the plate of food and the bottle of whiskey as he walked you to his car. It poured. You offered to drive since you were worried he could be a little drunk, but he told you he was okay and didn't drink that much. You didn't say anything to lighten the thick air between you. You could only see his stern face, staring at the dark road.

You felt somewhat nervous since he was so focused. It would have been simpler for you to discuss what occurred if he had spoken or if he had been feeling a little chatty. But you were too afraid to speak up and worsen the situation. While he was driving, none of you spoke. He didn't even glance at you.

When you thought Dean would just leave, he came after you. “You are welcome to stay if you so want. It's pouring outside,” you said as soon as you took off your heels and set the plate on the kitchen sink. It was so nice to be rid of those heels that you almost moaned with joy. Even though you hurried to get inside the car because of the heavy rain, your clothes and hair were soaked. You had to change before you became sick.

Dean shut the door behind him, and you watched him with excitement. “Okay.”

Exhaling with relief and delight, you pressed your smile back even though he didn't sound happy at all. The sounds, the rain, and the darkness brought back memories of your first intimate moments a few weeks prior.

As you saw him take off his wet cloak, you ran to the bathroom and got two towels for the two of you. “You can use the bathroom,” you said, leaving him behind as he dried himself and entered your room. Several times Dean and Sam had spent the night at your apartment, so he had clothes.

Dean was confused and unsure of what to do as he nodded, not knowing how to get answers about the the truth. Robert could have been lying to him, but he needed to be sure and make you explain yourself. He couldn't ignore it any longer.

You quickly took off your costume and panties while Dean was changing there, dressing before he left the restroom. Even though you were still feeling a bit sick, you made an effort to keep yourself energetic. You were curious about whether he would sleep in your bed or on the coach when he walked in, but you didn't ask since you wanted to let him do as he pleased. Imagining him lying beside you was making your heart race with joy and delight. You needed that so much; your soul was yearning. You noticed that Dean was looking at you through the mirror as you were removing makeup from your face. You pondered why he continued staring at you with such seriousness.

You both understood that you had got to solve the issue before it became too difficult to fix.

Dropping your stuff, you got up from the chair and looked around excitedly. It would feel better if he was a bit chatty.

Even though you weren't sure whether it was the right way for expressing how you were feeling at the moment, you eventually said, “I'm sorry.” The fact that his expression didn't soften at all made your heart beat. He appeared to be seeking an answer as he gazed at you. “I was just a little stressed out there.”

Dean took a long breath. “I should have confirmed the room was the right one. It's my fault. I was just rushing.”

“Really, Dean, no. I just... Of course, what Robert told was false, and it was rude of him to say something like that. He must be drunk or something. The details Robb revealed about the murder made me a little uncomfortable and worried. I should have acted with more professionalism.” You inhaled deeply and considered approaching him, but the way he was staring at you kept you still. “I'm really sorry for ruining it. Can’t we just act like it didn’t happen?”

Satisfied with the way you express yourself, you awaited the reply. You wanted him to see how much you truly wanted and looked for closeness with him, to know that you were prepared to be touched or taken anytime he wished to. Yet you wondered if Dean was genuinely open to seeing you, real you. He must have known that you would never turn him down. Whatever he wanted to forget about, he needed to know that you were willing to let it go. Your heart was aching for the times when he was closer to you, and the distance between you was shredding your soul in two.

He said, “Professional,” with a faint smile that never made it to his lips. Before he spoke, Dean took a moment to glance around. “How long has it been since you dated someone?”

You didn't seem to understand at all, despite Dean's best efforts to avoid asking in an aggressive manner so as not to shame you.

“Years ago maybe,” you said in an ashamed whisper. You were perplexed by his query, but if he needed clarification, then it was fine. “As you are aware, a lot has happened, and recently I have been too busy. Hunting monsters, ghosts, and my job—” you attempted to explain. These were undoubtedly just excuses, but how in the world could you tell him the truth when he appeared to be ready to judge you at any moment?

There was no reason for you to risk your friendship with him.

Your vague response caused Dean's eyes to narrow. He was aware that going forward, he would have to ask questions directly. “How recently did you have sex? Before me. When was the last time?”

When Dean asked you questions, your body tightened. You could sense the tension in the air as he drew closer. As he got closer, you should have felt better. It didn't. You pondered what precisely he and Robb talked about while you were away. You saw him get closer while lying. “A while.” You sounded a little harsh since you didn't like being asked such questions all of a sudden. However, you wanted to patch things up with him.

“When?”

You muttered angrily, “Why do you ask such questions now?” as he closely examined the response you gave.

“Why are you not answering?” You felt trapped as Dean approached gradually, unsure of why he had suddenly begun to inquire about your private life.

If everything between you was alright, you would be thrilled to see him coming closer, but the way he asked you in a tone that was almost harsh made your body tense with worry and stress. To put some distance between you and him, you stepped back and placed your hands on the chair's head.

“Yes, I responded. It's been a while,” you said, refusing to give in to his dark stare that was crushing your soul. “Not everyone is obsessed with daily hookups like you, Dean, and I'm a busy person.”

You tried to maintain your calm by maintaining eye contact, but after a while your eyes wandered the room as if you were trying to walk away. Your inference didn't appear to be bothering him. He wouldn't be bothered, of course.

Dean stated abruptly “Robert told me that you are a virgin,” and he briefly closed his eyes. “were.”

Your knees felt shaky, and your face turned pale as he maintained his curiosity-driven eyes on you. You opened your mouth to speak, but you had no idea how to convince him that he was mistaken. When Dean revealed to you that Robert had informed him of such a private matter, you felt a surge of rage, but you were too perplexed to figure out how to handle the situation. You hated Robb. You hated him and Dean for discussing such a private subject while you were away.

“He's lying,” you whispered. Your voice was hardly heard, even though you meant to sound harder and more resolute.

“Robb is your closest pal. You told me this, remember? And now you're telling me he's lying,” Dean said. Indicating that he didn't believe you at all, he raised an eyebrow. “Why would he lie about something like that?”

“Why does it even matter?” You snapped, no longer willing to discuss Robb or anything about yourself.

Your question can be interpreted as a kind of acceptance. Your eyes met Dean's as your pulse pounded with nervousness. Dean was staring at you in confusion, as though he was trying to figure out what had actually happened. It was no longer necessary for you to even admit. Dean knew Robb was right.

He was too blind to see it, even though he should have recognized it from the start when he rethought the specifics of your private moments, from how you felt extremely tight and how you hadn't seen anybody in a year. Taking a deep breath to keep his composure, Dean realized that if Robb didn't tell him, he would never know the truth.

“It does matter. You should have told me.”

“You're just exaggerating. I didn't want to inform you later and put you under any physiological pressure. It isn't that important,” you asserted. In anxiety, your fingers had gripped the chair behind you hard. You attempted to speak it out and seem normal while your heart was pounding and your legs felt weak, but Dean's reactions made it much more difficult. You weren't worried about your virginity at all.

He abruptly replied, “You could have told me beforehand,” raising his voice just enough to make you gasp. He moved closer until he was standing in front of you, staring into your teary eyes. “Have you given any thought to whether I would want to take your virginity? Why are you not answering?” He was so close that you could blow up because of the pressure he put on you.

Since it was one of the reasons you didn't tell him in the first place, it would be dishonest to convince yourself that it was what you expected. It's unlikely that Dean was aware of your want to spend your first time with him and your lone hope that he would grow to like you more later on. You were afraid that he may misinterpret your motivations and actions, even if the deed wasn't done with any cunning.

Your fingers loosened, and you released the chair with a disappointed heart. As you spoke to him, you were clutching onto the chair so tightly that you were unaware of it. Your fingers hurt. You questioned why he didn't treat you the same way he treated Jo. Were you worse? Did you not have any lovely features? You struggled to find the right words to soothe him as he gave you an irritated expression. But given how awful the night was, he had to be the one to soothe you.

You felt horrible and guilty.

“Dean, it's not really that special. Just.. heat of the moment.” To ease the tension between you, you tried to smile at him and added, “Don't think that I was expecting something when I decided to give it to you.”

“Good,” he said immediately before you were able to respond. You wondered why he was so frustrated because of the harsh and aloof tone of his voice. It couldn't be bound to what you hadn't revealed earlier. He could have felt somewhat guilty, but you were there to assure him it didn't matter.

“Otherwise it would have gone to waste.”

This time, you struggled to contain your emotions since you were so devastated. You hated the way he treated you tonight; you could hardly restrain yourself from losing it again and looking stupid in front of him. All you wanted was for him not to feel under strain, so you never said anything. However, once he found out, he couldn't ignore something that was so personal. After learning, however, he must have felt pressured.

The yearning to keep him away was stronger than the need to stay close to him. Was it too much to want to sleep next to him in a warm mattress in the final days of October? Your heart clenched when you realized that he was okay with doing even more intimate things with Jo and other women. He wasn't generous with you.

Dean couldn't help but feel regret for what he said as he saw your joyful look for a few moments before gradually waning and becoming filled with agony. His pride prevented him from saying anything, even though he wanted to apologize and comfort you. The fact that your first Halloween turned out to be somewhat terrible evening was awful. This was not what he had intended. You didn't either.

Dean was overwhelmed as he observed your teary eyes idly looking into the room as if you were making an effort to make things better. He was no longer sure how to go with you. And he was unaware that he had gotten close enough that he could practically feel your hard breathing on his lips. If he took control, he could capture your lips and complete the task you began in that room an hour ago. Dean was confident you wouldn't turn him down and offer yourself to him again. He was tempted to move and let go of the tension that was driving him insane. If he lacked the strength to control his urges, he would have made the first move once again.

Since you didn't feel at ease in a stranger's bed, he was happy to take you to a warm bed. That could settle your disagreements. His mind and feelings, however, pushed him to fulfill none of them.

Dean became perplexed when he noticed that you were still staring at him expectantly and that neither of you had moved. The way you looked at his lips and then at his face with a pained expression as if you were about to kiss him made him even more confused. He was aware that he would respond to your kiss immediately, without a second thought. When he realized you were even a little bit closer now, he almost gasped. He was unaware of whether or not you were doing this intentionally.

You were able to whisper, “I'm going to sleep,” because you didn't want to talk about it any more for fear that he would hurt you further and not care about how you were feeling. You felt the rejection in your flesh and bones. Although it was hard to believe, Dean didn't care about you or how difficult it was for you to confess something so personal; you were desperately attempting to convince him that it didn't matter. He called it 'waste'.

Even worse, if he chose to sleep on your bed, on your side, you would still be too weak to feel peaceful. There was no need to disregard the cruel things he said to you or the way he looked at you, or to deny that your bound had weakened.

Dean stepped back. He said, “I guess the rain has stopped,” as you swiftly climbed your bed and moved away from him not to be seen.

Because you no longer wanted to look him in the eye, you turned your face toward the window and listened to the rain decreasing in pace. If you hadn't talked at all and he had simply been lying next to you, it would have been perfect to stay silent and let your bodies speak. As you wrapped the blanket around your cold body, you let your tears wet your pillow, knowing he would no longer see your expression. You didn't make a noise.

Nothing happened while you waited for him to lay down next to you and cover half of his body with the blanket. The only sounds you heard were Dean leaving your house and the faint sound of the door shutting behind him. When you heard him driving away, you repressed your feelings for him.

You couldn't contain your tears any longer and pressed your face against your pillow, sobbing aloud only as you were certain he had left. Knowing that you had no one to worry about who would find out that you were a pathetic lovesick sobbing over a man who didn't even treat you the same way he treated any of his hookups was almost nice. You didn't feel upset at Robb, but you did feel angry with yourself for not being honest with Dean from the very beginning. He should have been the one who soothed you and put things right, just as you were attempting to do.

Seeing him not try to maintain your friendship was the most painful thing. Everything appeared so simple to sort out, but his behavior made it hard to repair whatever had been damaged between you. So be it.

Your cries became sobbing, which in turn became harder to breathe as his words repeated in your head. You fell asleep on your wet pillow just as your headache was becoming worse and you were too exhausted to continue crying.

Your nightmares prohibited you from getting a good night's sleep, and you kept waking up in the middle of the night to see if Dean had texted or called. You checked your own temperature, and you realized that the chilly weather wasn't the only reason you were feeling unwell.

You understood from your experience that the sickness was also caused by your mental health and heartbreak. You considered skipping work today, but it would be best to keep yourself occupied. In order to forget what had happened, you wanted to work for hours on end without even taking a break.

Before you left the house and forced yourself to eat something so you could take some medicine, you saw the plate Dean had set out for you in the kitchen, along with a bottle of whiskey. Your mind was overflowing with bad memories, so you threw the plate full of sweets in the trash can without giving it a second thought. You could drink whiskey another time.

Even though Dean tried to keep his thoughts busy, he had trouble falling asleep. He kept checking his phone throughout the night and considered calling or messaging you to talk it out, but he lacked the bravery and didn't want to wake you up because he knew you were pretty worn out and would be at work the next day.

Dean was sitting on the coach, whirling the phone nervously in his hands, sometimes checking the screen, when Sam arrived home in the morning. He assumed you were busy working at the moment.

“Hey,” Sam murmured while stretching his muscles. He scowled when he saw Dean consumed in his thoughts and still staring at his phone screen. “Are you waiting for a call?”

“What?” Dean said, confused. Sam was there, making himself some coffee, but he didn't even realize when he came.

“You keep looking at your phone.”

Dean defended himself by giving Sam an angry expression. “I'm not,” he said.

“So how did it go?” Sam sat on the couch and handed Dean a cup of coffee as well. He felt wonderful since he wasn't expecting his Halloween to be so joyful and enjoyable with Ruby. But Dean looked like he had been struck by a car. It was obvious he didn't get much sleep, Sam could tell. “You two got the job done?”

“No.” Dean just thought about the job you didn't finish in bed, even though he knew Sam was asking about hunting the Halloween ghost. Thus, his answer could work in both ways.

“Why?”

“It was locked,” Dean lied, unwilling to talk about the night before.

“So you're telling me that you couldn't find a way to unlock it?” Sam's lighthearted tone made Dean tense, but he attempted to dismiss the image of your fragile look by taking a long breath to relax. Since you didn't seem good yesterday, he questioned whether you had become sick.

When his brother offered him a broad grin that made him want to bite his skull, Dean smiled and said, “Will you stop acting like a bitch?”

Sam gave up, not wanting to discuss the specifics in the morning. “Fine,” he sighed. “How is Y/N doing? She has not responded to my texts since yesterday. Did you leave the party too late?”

“Yeah, it was late.”

“How was your Halloween?” Dean asked so that the topic be changed. Since he wasn't particularly good at lying, he would undoubtedly tell Sam everything that had happened yesterday once he had any suspicions. Yet he didn't feel like listening to his little brother's lecture.

“It was all right, but since you couldn't handle a single ghost, I suppose I should have accompanied you and Y/N,” Sam teased him. “It's unbelievable that you couldn't unlock a single door.”

Rather than arguing with Sam and letting him get under his skin with his grin, Dean remained silent and let his brother continue his teasing. Sam's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he saw Dean was no longer defending himself or fighting back, but he didn't ask him any questions. When Dean didn't fuck someone during an enjoyable night, he looked just like this. He would eventually tell him if there was anything else, or Sam would speak with you and find out himself.

The sound of a notification on Sam's phone caused Dean to turn toward him as Sam sipped the coffee in quiet. Dean continued to swirl his phone expectantly between his palms. Perhaps he should instead phone you or leave a message, but his pride prevented him from doing so. Yet his body ached to see you and talk to you.

It was absurd that he had been thinking about you nonstop since yesterday. In fact, he had been experiencing it for the past few weeks. He was unable to recall the precise moment it began, but it was driving him insane. Even in the most absurd situations, his mind kept thinking about you, which was crazy. Dean felt uneasy now that he had left your house after a somewhat little argument.

While he stared at the screen, Sam said, “It looks like she'll be working all day.”

“Did she text you?” With his gaze focused on Sam's fingers that were rapidly messaging you, Dean asked, his hands stopping to swirl his phone and waiting for the same notification.

“Yeah,” Sam said while continuing to message you. As Dean watched his brother with a dissatisfied expression, the click sounds began to irritate him, and his boots began tapping the floor nonstop.

Dean's fingers waited on the screen before tapping a thing when he checked his phone again and saw you online, but he instantly changed his mind since he was unsure of what to type.

After tasting his own nasty smell, which caused him to frown in disgust, Sam finally put his phone down on the table and walked to the bathroom. Dean couldn't resist swiping Sam's phone and quickly checking it to see how you were or what you were doing just after he made sure his brother had closed the door. He hoped that you wouldn't actually be working all day. He might come to your place to fix things, or he may invite you. It was crazy how you avoided talking for so long. He couldn't even recall the last time you hadn't sent texts to each other for so long.

Fortunately, it was easy to go through the texts because he knew Sam's password. In any case, he wouldn't care. Dean read the texts, biting his lip, in which you told Sam that you were going to be working all day, that you were doing well, that Halloween went off well—all of which were complete lies—and so on. Dean typed without even realizing what he was doing since he assumed it was your lunchtime.

Just as he was about to put the phone down, the phone rang, prompting Dean to answer immediately to avoid Sam's interruption. He took a long breath and waited for you to say something. He felt like a teenager, with his heart pounding on his chest. With nervousness, Dean put his hands in his pockets and stood up from the coach.

“For God's sake, Sam,” you complained, “you've been typing for minutes.” All Dean was hearing were metallic sounds and fork sounds.

At last, he cleared his throat and said, “Sam is in the bathroom.”

You weren't expecting to hear Dean's voice. You swallowed as you recalled his cruel words and how he had abandoned you the day before. The food in front of you didn't appear to be as enjoyable as it had a few minutes before. You were no longer hungry. At least these hectic hours enabled you to forget about the argument between you and Dean, even if you've been working nonstop since the morning and the patients were especially challenging today. However, your longing for Dean's voice caused your heart to tighten once again, meaning that all of your efforts to forget were in vain.

Even though you didn't want to, you said, “Alright,” in a cold tone, as you were ready to end the call. Even at such a distance, you could feel the thick air between you. Being that way with him knowing that he had been inside of you hours before was insane. You were close and yet so far away.

Dean immediately said, “Wait, wait,” which caused you to pause. You patiently awaited till he spoke.

While Dean collected his thoughts on what to say, he took his hand out of his pocket and gripped the chair almost anxiously, his rough fingers clenched around it.

He said, “When does your shift end today?” When you informed his brother that you had been working all day, he hoped you weren't being honest. Otherwise, Dean didn't want the gap between you growing, and it would be hard to get together to talk about the matter immediately. He was going crazy from the uncertainty and your cold manner. The worst part was that he was aware of your best efforts to fix it.

Dean simply shut you out yesterday.

“I'll be working the whole day.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He acted as though nothing had transpired between you, and you were annoyed by it. You simply said, “That's what I was told.”

Dean frowned as he considered what to do. He had the option to see you at the hospital, but he doubted that it would be a good idea to discuss such sensitive subjects amongst ill patients while you were attempting to do your job responsibilities. And it didn't make sense that you would be working constantly just after Halloween night. You had to take a break. He wished to know whether you considered taking a day off.

“Tomorrow?” Dean asked softly. The first letters of your names that had been carved on the table were now being traced by his fingertips. He continued to touch your name softly on it unconsciously.

“I'll be working heavily this week.” You didn't want to be alone in your house thinking about Dean all the time. Although working full-time for a week would be extremely hard on your body and you were obviously exhausted, at least your mind would be occupied and you wouldn't be gradually thinking about Dean, creating fake scenarios in your head to overcome pain.

But your soul and mind desired to see him. When you heard his voice, it didn't make sense to do whatever you could to keep being upset with him. There could be a way to make things better. But like you, he had to listen to you and consider the situation from your perspective first.

Dean's jaw tightened in irritation and his hands halted. Now, what sort of shift was that? He was about to question whether you were lying again or if this was something you were doing on purpose, but he immediately changed his mind so as not to annoy you further.

You didn't wait for Dean to finish speaking when one of your colleagues said something. “Okay, I gotta go.” The longer you waited, the more anticipation filled your heart, making you feel even more sick.

Dean's lips opened to get you to stop, but it was too late. His mind was racing with ideas and plans on how to find a way to free up some time for you so that you could spend time together. He didn't move for a moment. He was aware that if he let go, you would grow apart and eventually lose sight of the initial reason for your small fight. He didn't want that.

Although he was still upset that you had withheld such crucial information from him, he needed to hear you out and understand your point of view. If he thought it was as unimportant as you said, you would have already started seeing other guys.

Dean was a little proud that you felt at ease sharing such an important thing with him, even if he hadn't understood the reason for it. He wasn't particularly proud of the way he hurried and didn't take his time to make it perfect for you, though. He couldn't even see your face properly since it was quite dark, even if he was doing everything properly. It still angered Dean to know that he would never have known if Robb hadn't told him yesterday. You couldn't determine that on your own and expect him to act normally about it. You have to understand him as well.

However, it didn't mean that you couldn't fix that problem.

Dean knew that you could become sensitive at times.

Your body ached from too much work as the days went by. Your body and mind were begging with you to take a break, and patients were being too much lately. You slept at the hospital at times and didn't even return home. Those naps were brief and of little use. You definitely needed to get plenty of rest till your body healed. The good news is that, as you had anticipated, Dean eventually left your thoughts. You just concentrated on resting. You washed your face again, looked in the mirror, and made the decision to spend tonight at home. Taking medications to force your body to work that hard wasn't a good idea.

You ignored Robb's warnings. You couldn't help but be irritated by his tone of voice, as though he hadn't told Dean the most intimate detail about your life. You blamed yourself just as much as you blamed him, since you should never have told him in the first place.

When you noticed Sam and Dean at the entrance after you had finished treating another patient and had given him and his girlfriend a ghostly smile, you could not move because their faces were covered in blood.

“Sam!” you said as you hurried over to accompany him, and your colleague looked at you bewildered. He appeared to be a complete mess. He wouldn't often visit the hospital for such injuries, but you were glad he did.

“Hey,” he said, scowling as he attempted to grin at you. His jaw tightened in pain. While you checked on Sam, you requested your colleague to look after Dean. You got the message from Sam's gaze when you asked him what had happened. Compared to Sam, Dean didn't appear as bad. You really didn't want to talk to him or feel brave enough to look him in the eye.

As you attempted to help him, you made him lie down and lifted his t-shirt. After all, it wasn't the first time. He had a little cut. But if Ruby saw it, she would lose her mind.

Your heart was racing as your colleague questioned Dean. You were unable to take your eyes off of them, and you noticed that Dean gave her a quick reply while continuing to stare at you.

Realizing that Sam's condition wasn't very serious, Dean offered the nurse to change her place with you, who was attempting to do her job by cleansing his hand of blood before stitching. You went straight to Sam without even looking at Dean properly, which slightly wounded his pride. Although he didn't care for himself, he assumed you would be curious about how he was doing.

Dean's heart melted when he saw how exhausted you were, how messy your hair was, and how completely messed up you looked. He was on the verge of losing it since you had been neglecting him for so long. And he nearly forgot what went wrong between you when he saw you in front of him, dressed in your sweet nurse clothing. None of them mattered at that moment.

When Dean called your name, you didn't look at him until your colleague, who was annoyed by Dean's actions, joined you. You let her look after Sam after apologizing to her with a bashful smile. Sam's wounded gaze was full of inquiry when you apologized to him as well, but he didn't care and simply huffed when he heard Dean making some noise. He believed that his brother had made an attempt to flirt with the nurse. There were times when he was very embarrassing.

While you examined Dean's wounded hand, you attempted to straighten your untidy hair with your wrist. It brought up memories of the day you were wounded. The whole thing was almost ironic. Your face grimaced as you saw how deep the cut was, and you noticed that your fingers lingered on his hand in a gentle manner, as if you were attempting to ease his suffering. Yet there were no sounds coming from him.

His voice was a whisper, “Hey,” as he sat on the stretcher. When you realized it was your first face-to-face encounter since that terrible night, your face instantly heated.

Once you finally turned to face him, you said, “How that happened?”

“One of the hunts didn't go quite well. It's not serious.”

You said, “It looks a little serious though,” as you began to take care of him. You were nearly as tall as him when he sat. You nearly forgot about everything when he looked at you. You had missed him. You had missed having a fairly casual conversation with him.

Dean said, “You've been very busy these days,” after noticing that you were suddenly overly focused. “I tried reaching out to you many times.”

“I needed some time alone,” you responded without trying to come up with an excuse to get him to talk to you about it.

Stating, “I hoped... We could talk about it,” Dean watched you intently to see all of your facial expressions. His heart was filled with anguish at how weary you sound. You wouldn't push him away with such determination if he didn't leave that night. He was unable to figure out how much his words had caused you to work so long and not want to go home.

Knowing what Dean was talking about, your cheeks reddened with guilt as he brought up the issue between you. You heard him groan in pain as your hands became a bit sloppy. He tried to create no sound by clenching his jaw, but he failed. You whispered sadly, “Sorry,” as one of your hands touched his compassionately. If there were nothing wrong between you, you would most likely give it a gentle kiss.

Dean immediately answered, “It's okay,” and his little smile made you glance at him to check whether he was telling the truth.

Whispering, “I'm really sorry, Dean,” You meant it. Even though it was difficult and uncomfortable, you had to speak to Dean about what had happened and ask him if he would be okay taking your virginity. Even if you felt different, you were still just close friends. You didn't intend to put pressure on him to inform him or make him find out your situation after you had sex. You'd never do that.

Once you gazed at him with sorrowful eyes, his lips parted in surprise. As you were stitching his injured hand, he had no intention of starting this conversation like this, yet here you were. Perhaps you were feeling relaxed at that particular time, and Dean didn't want to ruin that vulnerable moment.

“It's all right.” He tried to show that he was ready to sort out the matter between you and let the barrier fall through his words quietly, “I didn't mean to hurt you.” It felt right; you were so close to each other. He hardly ever slept because of how you let the distance between you grow every day.

As he spoke softly and urged you to look at him, your heart was pounding. It was crazy how things you believed to be serious and from which you would never fully recover now appeared trivial. Less than five words and a little effort, and they were all gone. You relaxed and took a long breath.

“I just need to know why you did this in the first place,” Dean stated. His voice remained warm and compassionate, as if he genuinely wanted to fully understand you and was prepared to consider the situation from your point of view. You waited for him to continue, as you were almost done tending to his wounds. “Why did you share such an intimate thing with me without even telling me who you were?”

You remained silent until you had gently wrapped his hand with a bandage and finished treating it. Your heart raced as you two waited in quiet, oblivious to everyone and everything around you as if nothing else mattered. You couldn't help but apply extremely gentle strokes to touch his palm where it wasn't injured because it was such a tender moment. By the way he stared at you, you could see that your behavior astonished him.

You realized then that you had gone too far to turn back. The damage was too severe to fix. Whoever had first wrecked the other one didn't matter. However, your feelings were certain about him. You knew that your feelings for him remained unchanged no matter how hard you tried or how many hours you spent trying to forget about him and what had transpired. No matter how hard you try to get away from it, the feelings he evoked in you when you gazed into his eyes and he gazed back at you will always be with you. There was no escape.

Your hands ceased rubbing Dean's hand as you looked at his face. He called your name again to get a response. This time, you stared at him without blinking and took a deep breath with a heavy heart.

“I love you.”

Taglist: @midnightpearlaurora @procrastination20 @faiirynyaa @deangirl96 @steelthespooder @t1asstuff @slut-for-evans-stan @esposamultifandom @rebecca-hvnstn @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @sammyxorae @filmologetica @n-o-p-e-never @stoneyggirl2 @hhiggs @neptua @yuckqr @steelthespooder @jaredpadonlyyyy @robynn9436-blog @x3zerochanx3 @lilbloggs @chriszgirl92 @ninii-winchester @monshirev @saturogojosgirl @necrobab3 @simpingfortoomanypeople @casey1-2007 @mystic-mara @kamisobsessed

A/N: Another long chapter for you, hehe. WE ARE IN THE ENDGAME NOW. Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! Remember they keep me going and I put soo much effort hehe love you ‪‪❤

@zaratahir @opheliadynah @spxideyver @mango-munchies

@jeysbae @chirazsstuff @anyisaravia2001 @shanimallina87

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punkpandapatrixk · 2 months ago

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👑Your Destined Person’s Anima vs Persona ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

According to Carl Jung, the anima is a man’s feminine (Yin) aspect, and thus unconscious in him. Correspondingly, the animus is a woman’s masculine (Yang) aspect, and thus unconscious in her. The anima is the Masculine’s hidden psychology, essentially.

In the grand scheme of the Cosmos, the Yin is the dark, the magnetic, the VOID—the empty space where all creations are first dreamt. In this dark space, it is up to the Masculine individual whether or not he wants to succumb to the allure of Lilith the Destroyer. In Jungian psychology, apparently, they have this thing called The Devouring Mother LMAO

All things considered, in the name of character development, it is up to the man—if he ever so chooses, which, one must first always make a choice for things to go a certain way—to make the unconscious conscious.

When the Yin and the Yang in a person are united and fully realised, that person becomes what we call Divine~ Man or woman, this person then becomes a more complete Human being. He or she then becomes the master of his/her own Destiny~⛵️

GNOSIS: A Man's Anima Reveals Itself In Sexual Fantasies as explained by Marie-Louise von Franz (entertain the comments section, peeps~)

SONG: Say You Love Me by EXO KAI

MOTHA: Kim Kardashian plays a SAVAGE version of herself in AHS Delicate 😩 by Offensive Tea

deck-bottom: XVIII The Moon Rx, Red Geographer (Marco Polo) & Priestess of Illumination

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Evil Fuck vs King

‘Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.’ – Carl Jung

VIBE: Reason by EXO KAI

anima – XV The Devil

Look, babe, we keep it real in this household, OK? XD We don’t know if your Destined Person has Mars/Pluto in the 8th or 12th House—or possibly—Neptune itself in the 5th or 8th House, but essentially, your DP is a person who’s deeply fascinated by SEX and all the taboos surrounding it. They could struggle with having a lot of improper thoughts, quite often, at inappropriate times and places, deep inside.

Your Destined Person most likely watches a lot of porn or indulges themselves in those types of activities/media, and on top of that, prooobably has some mummy issues. At the very least, they could have a strange/unhealthy relationship with their mother figure or have a difficult time accepting/integrating the Yin aenergy inside of them.

Overall, this strange combo of Scorpion/Neptunian qualities in them lends to your Destined Person’s macabre fascination with all things ‘dark and sexual’. Be that as it may, this doesn’t automatically mean that your Destined Person is simply a depraved piece of fuck. Don’t be surprised to know that things changed drastically for them by the time they graduated their 1st (or 2nd if they’re slow LOL) Saturn Return~

persona – 9 of Cups

There is something about the way sexuality is expressed in this Human world that feels strangely fascinatingly depraved, which is genuinely incredibly foreign to your Destined Person’s Soul XD If they’ve felt inexplicably drawn to it, it’s because they want to UNDERSTAND fully what makes ‘sex’ in the Human world so…icky and disrespectful. 9 of Cups here is literally indicating that your Destined Person’s Soul is incredibly pure and altruistic.

And that is exactly why they are endlessly perplexed by the darkness—the sickness is more like it—surrounding SEX in this wicked world which they realised is almost completely deprived of Love. The sheer lack of a soulful cosmic connection in most sexual activities in this world puzzles the living shit out of your Destined Person!

It may take some maturing from your Destined Person until they finally understand that this dark fascination is actually quite common for people with their kind of natal configuration or let’s say, psychology. Their Saturn Return phases will play (or have played) a critical role in their awakening to a Higher Truth that eventually liberates them from the chains of a strange addiction to… yeah…

Divine Human – Queen of Pentacles Rx

At some point in Life—most likely after their, at least, first Saturn Return—your Destined Person understood why some things simply don’t add up for them when it comes to how Humans connect with each other to enjoy these…worldly pleasures; which then led to a great spiritual liberation from all the deceits they’d been told about sex and sexuality in this…mortal world.

Your Destined Person is somebody who’s quite inexplicably cosmic, you know. Either they feel to you like an alien or a fairy. They simply can’t fit into the expectations of ‘normalcy’ in most of Human societies. The depraved things people so take for granted, none of that feels ‘normal’ to your Destined Person. This is someone who’s actually incredibly decent and polite.

Your Destined Person is not the type that wants to hurt you in intimate situations. They probably don’t even prioritise the sensual sensations more than how they connect with you on an emotional level. This is a person who wants to ‘fill you up’ spiritually through a divine sexual activity, which, now that you know, explains why they’ve had to learn to unlearn the lies of sex and sexuality in their younger years ^^v

WHAT IS LOVE🔻💜

honey? – Priestess of Solitude

poison? – Priestess of Faith

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Many Dreams vs Unworthiness

‘One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.’ – Carl Jung

VIBE: Amnesia by EXO KAI

anima – Knight of Pentacles

There is a chance that your Destined Person has some significant Virgo-Pisces bullshit going on in their birth chart. This is the axis of sacrifice and self-undoing of the zodiac wheel and this in itself could cause a person to ‘self-sabotage’ out of a fear of becoming happier than everybody else. It sounds crazy, right? But people with a harshly afflicted Virgo-Pisces connection tend to be somewhat of a martyr.

In practice, where your Destined Person is concerned, this affliction plays itself out in the form of endless rumination, as well as a sense of not being worthy of what they’re actively daydreaming about. This is almost giving me that main character from the movie Parasite. This guy dreams and plans a lot, but fucks everything up in the end because he’s simply not…capable enough?

OK, that’s a bad example but this aenergy is almost similar to how the guy is portrayed by the very end of the film XD This afflicted Piscean aenergy especially, is making your Destined Person, most likely subconsciously, afraid of letting themselves happy. So then, as a means to reaffirm this ‘belief’ their brains ‘course-correct’ by fucking up whatever nice bit of Reality they’ve manifested…

persona – 5 of Swords Rx

After experiencing the same kind of bullshit for some time, could be a number of years for some, too, your Destined Person could’ve become dejected. This is a very normal human response, right? They could’ve developed some kind of inertia within themselves. Always frozen mid-air when thinking of actually jumping into the next breakthrough or any other sense of adventure. They tend to not take action towards liberating themselves from either boredom or a dead-end of a situation.

A lot of people who interact with them regularly probably only know them as a mild-mannered person who’s quite pleasant to talk to. But deep inside, your Destined Person is raging chaos, waiting to murder someone. They’re sometimes possessed by this strong feeling of wanting to destroy something massive or ruin another person’s Life completely. All because they’re superbly frustrated by the lack of action or excitement in their own everyday Life…

At minimum, this is a person who could struggle quite a bit with regulating envy or jealousy upon seeing another person’s success, freedom and happiness, but most of all, another person’s sense of advancement in Life. This isn’t to say that your Destined Person is simply an evil fuck of a devil incarnate; actually, quite far from it! It’s just that this person has dealt with, really, quite a bit of systemic letdowns from the Universe itself…

Divine Human – Page of Pentacles Rx

Life rarely feels fair when someone’s Virgo-Pisces axis has harsh afflictions. Then again, this is quite literally your Destined Person’s ultimate test of strength and of character. That’s precisely why their Soul chose to be born with such afflictions in the first place. To see how their Human Avatar would navigate this type of crazy in their psyche~★ I promise you that you aren’t destined to marry an actual psychopath LMAO But, let’s see…

In the beginning, your Destined Person could’ve struggled with looking into the depths of their own disturbed psychology. This could be a fear from within themselves and so they refused to do so, but especially if your Destined Person is an XY, this could also be their environment/society’s wrong reinforcement when they say, ‘Boys will be boys, riiight?’ as a means to excuse your Destined Person’s refusal to learn and grow from their failures and mistakes *smh*

Whether XY or XX, your Destined Person’s mother could’ve been a pick-me or straight up a narc; and due to this lack of proper guidance, structure and discipline in your Destined Person’s childhood, they could’ve grown up to embody somewhat of a dark triad personality. In actuality, your Destined Person wasn’t allowed the chance to grow up emotionally or psychologically—honestly, whoever their mother figure was, she failed them.

WHAT IS LOVE🔻❤️

honey? – Priestess of Abundance

poison? – Priestess of Love

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lazy Escapism vs Mahoroba

‘People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls.’ – Carl Jung

VIBE: Blue by EXO KAI

anima – 7 of Wands Rx

Your Destined Person is out with lanterns looking for themselves~ Doesn’t this picture make you think that? ^^ Your Destined Person is a walking paradox to say the least; they are the type that may not always be honest with even themselves. I sense it is because they feel this burden from all around them to be the highest-achiever or the best-mannered or whatever else. Other people have put such high expectations on them that they originally thought they too had to think precisely that way.

In the beginning, your Destined Person might not have known who they were at the core of their Soul. They had only known themselves through the lens of other people’s perception and expectations. Though they might have thought this normal when they were small, at some point in Life—possibly when Saturn made its last aspect at around age 21—your Destined Person was nudged by the Cosmos to go on a Soul-search.

During this time—and all through their first Saturn Return—your Destined Person realised for real for the first time that they are quite a rebellious spirit, and when met with the wrong situations, can honestly be quite vengeful XD At this point, they may have developed some bitter feelings about how they had allowed others to murky their own perception of themselves! This Soul-search could’ve been quite world-shattering for your Destined Person…

persona – 3 of Swords

Most people don’t seem to notice this but a self-denial kind of issue is actually really quite painful on an emotional and psychological level. Like this feeling of not knowing themselves, not embracing their inner child, not allowing themselves more freedom, all of this, upon being realised, broke your Destined Person’s heart so horribly. It was such a deep psychological issue that they may not have found any person to confide in.

Some of their friends, even closest friends, might’ve perceived that your Destined Person was distant from them. They sometimes felt standoffish or simply…well, distant. Not quite there with the rest of them or they could also have avoided hanging out too much with even those closest to them. They became somewhat of a loner. To process their feelings, your Destined Person often disappeared into the dreamscape.

In many ways, I think your Destined Person became quite deluded, if not delusional XD The dreamscape, their escapism, provided so much more comfort and excitement than real life. In the daydreams, they could be so much more real than what they’re allowed to be in the real world… So when you realise the reason, it’s really quite sad and poignant.

Divine Human – 6 of Pentacles

Your Destined Person is truly a Divine Human in that they do truly have such a generous, charitable heart. If this is your main pile, a common ground here is that your Destined Person is so much more kind and gentle than appearances may give—even if they’re already perceived as kind and gentle~ It’s almost unbelievable that someone as pure as this still exists in today’s world, especially if your Destined Person is an XY LMAO

This person, all they wanna do in Life is to be good and to love people and share good times and promote good deeds. Alas, that was very childish of them tsk tsk tsk… It took them a real smacking on the head to realise they’ve been victim to so much gaslighting practically their entire Life. Because in this wicked world, ‘goodness’ is weaponised by bad people to victimise actually good people.

A total mindfuck, yeah, took them a while. As they grow older, your Destined Person learns to balance between what is ‘fake short-term good’ and what’s ‘divinely good in the grand scheme of the Cosmos’. All in all, whether or not they have the technical knowledge, your Destined Person is actually a WITCH. Some of the most powerful witches out there—an alchemist of the highest order😉

WHAT IS LOVE🔻💚

honey? – Priestess of Inspiration

poison? – Priestess of Energy

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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redeyerhaenyra · 1 year ago

Text

Sleeping Beauty

Summary: After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven.

Warnings: Hidden relationship, reader is mentioned having sex with Jake, jealousy on Steven's part, vaginal fingering, a sprinkling of dry humping, cunnilingus, Steven cums in his pants, fem reader, one use of (Y/N)

Notes: Debuting Steven onto my blog :) this fix was heavily inspired by @blue-beeeeeeery 's post

Wc: 1.9k

You’d been dating Jake for a while, having met him as your cab driver after a night out with your friends. In the time you’d been together, he’d opened up to you about his DID, and his alters; Marc and Steven. You hadn’t met them yet, and it seemed to be a little bit of a touchy subject for him, so you didn’t push it. Besides, you adored Jake, even if there were two other men living in his head, you were sure you could come to love them, too.

Despite not pushing it, you had asked why it was Jake wouldn’t introduce you to his alters, and he had told you that they were both… skittish, in a way. That you would meet them, that he wanted you to, but he worried to spring it on too soon. And who could blame him? Hearing that your alter had a partner you didn’t know about would understandably be perplexing at the very least. Though, it made you smile- Jake may have acted like a big, scary, cigarette smoking tough guy, but he really cared, especially about Steven. You’d gathered he was the “innocent little brother” of the group, the one to be looked after. He seemed so sweet, even when Jake would complain about him. And you knew one day you’d see him for yourself. Jake was naturally protective, over you and over his alters. It warmed your heart to know he was waiting for them to be ready to hear that they technically had a girlfriend they didn’t know about.

Besides, the reason he hadn’t told them when you had first met, is because they didn’t know he existed apparently. You had called him shy, and he had grumbled that he wasn’t, he was just fulfilling his role in the system. The protector, doing the dirty work for Khonshu when Marc couldn’t, and then slipping back into the shadows when it was done. It sounded lonely, you told him. It was, he replied, until he met you. Jake could be so romantic when he wanted to.

And so here you were, laying cuddled up to who you thought was Jake, the darkness outside told you it was still the early hours of the morning. You were only half awake anyway- fucking Jake always took something out of you. It was exhausting, in the best way.

You decided to stay like this, for a while. Jake normally woke up hours before you, kissing you goodbye and sending you a text later that hoped you “Had a good sleep, hermosa,” and so you relished the little extra time you had with him. It felt a little demeaning, for him at least, having to sneak in and out like he was a teenager, but you pushed through it, for Jake and his alters. Your eyes blinked back closed, willing yourself to not sleep too deeply, so that you might give him a proper goodbye when he left your flat.

The air was quiet, still. Peaceful. The only sounds were yours and his breathing. The warmth of him behind you, his arm curled just under your breasts lulled you to sleep once again. And meanwhile, as you fell back into sleep, someone else was rising from it. Though, it wasn’t Jake.

Steven blearily opened his eyes, and groaned. Despite having just woken up, his body felt tired… but in a good way. And he was spooning something soft.. and warm. His vision cleared- and he nearly jumped back in shock. There was a woman…. in his bed, but it wasn’t his bed, and this wasn’t his flat. He whimpered in shock as she moved against him, moaning as you stretched your arms above your head.

“You up already, papí?”

Papí… definitely Jake. Steven gulped. He knew his other alters were more experienced with women than he was, but this was just silly. His eyes raked over you, your form cuddled beneath the blankets, your hair sprawled about the pillow like a halo. Gosh.. you were pretty. He found himself thinking that Jake had good taste. He shook his head free of the thought- he needed to leave as fast as he could. As much as Jake cared about his alters, so did Steven. And thought he’d been wishing for a girlfriend for forever, but he wouldn’t go as far as to turn off one of Jake’s “scores” with his awkwardness. Steven had no idea how adorable he was.

When he didn’t answer, you turned over, squinting at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes; “Jake?”

Steven froze. God, you were gorgeous. Ohhhh it wasn’t fair. Why did Jake have to be the best with women….

“Jake? Are you alright?” Your hands came to cup his face, as you examined him for any sign of sickness, or anything else that might make him freeze so suddenly.

“ ‘M fine-!” Steven’s voice broke a little as he choked out a reply. Oh, good one Steven. You were wise to his sudden change in accent, sounding more like he was from London now. Your hands quickly retracted, and you gasped.

“…Not Jake?” “No-“ Steven gulped, you shifted away from him, Steven was sure it was to make him more comfortable, but he found himself internally begging you to shift closer. “Steven..?” You breathed out; “…Y-yeah, uh.. who’re you? W-where am I?”

You sighed, knowing that this conversation was going to happen one way or another. You put your hands up in a show of mercy; “My name is (Y/N)… this is my flat.. I’m uh… I’m Jake’s girlfriend.”

Steven’s eyes widened. “Oh.” “Yeah..” “….Well why didn’t I know he had a bloody girlfriend.”You giggled. At least he wasn't freaking out too much. "He didn't want to shock you, I.. I've known him since before he started to show himself to you and Marc." Steven nodded along. "Well I have to say, waking up in a strange woman's bed is pretty shocking..." You giggled again. "-Yes, sorry, he usually wakes up hours before me to go back to your place." "Oh right.." Steven sniffed.

"Um.. d-did you, uh... I mean, have you.." He motioned to your neck- Jake liked to leave hickeys. You caressed the marks, only just now realising they were there.

"Oh- um, do you mean..?" "Uh.. yeah- sorry it's just.. we share a body, y'know.." "No no I get it-! Um, yes, yes we did." He was, of course, not so subtly asking if you and Jake had had sex last night.

"Oh, right- I mean, it's fine! Obviously, you're like, together, and that's like, normal- sorry I'm making this so weird." The smile you gave him was sympathetic. "No, it's alright," you had told him, but your words had fallen into a buzz around him. Steven was deep in his thoughts- sure, it was Jake you'd had sex with, but they shared a body. What had he done with you? You'd had sex, but how? What did you like? As his mind spiralled, he felt his cock twitch a little beneath his boxers. Only a few hours ago, probably, his body had been inside you. His hands had probably made you cum a dozen times- Steven knew that's at least what he'd want to do with you...

"-Steven?" His thoughts cleared, "God, sorry love, head's all over the place today.." You hummed.

"You're really pretty." Steven's comment made the both of you blush, and you could've said the same of him. You hadn't noticed until now that you had subconsciously been shuffling closer to one another in the bed. Your noses were close to touching now, and you decided to take the plunge.

Steven whimpered as your lips met his, and while he was eager, it was strange that he be so inexperienced, considering, again, that he shared a body with Jake. His hands were greedy, but anxious. The trembling in his fingers gave presence to his mounting desire to touch you, and gently you guided his hands to your hips. That was all the encouragement he needed, his grip became suddenly a lot more confident, clutching your hips tightly before travelling down to squeeze your bum. He moaned with you, grinding your hips into the hot pressure of his cock against your tummy, his touch against you hungry, like an excitable dog.

You whined at the sudden loss of his mouth, biting your lip as he kissed his way down your neck.

"Bloody Jake, 's not fair, he always gets the girls, 's not fair, I'll show him-" Your thoughts were getting a little hazy, and the throbbing in your core became more and more apparent.

"Steven.." You breathed, if nothing else, he was eager to prove himself, fingers deftly ripping your panties down off of you.

"I can do it just as well as he can, you watch-" Steven didn't waste any time licking his way up to your clit, and sucking on it like a man starved. You cried out, hands falling to grip his soft curls. He was moaning and whimpering into you, just as you were above him. The seam of his boxers caught so deliciously on the head of his cock, and he all but cried into your cunt and he rocked his hips against the mattress.

Your hand came up to cover your moans, but Steven was having none of it, he halted his assault on your pussy, switching his tongue out for his fingers, deftly sliding inside of you, as you keened.

"No, no, none of that love, wanna hear ya, yeah?" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your toes curled as his fingers finally, finally found the spot. You writhed in pleasure, tugging harder on his hair. His mouth came back to suckle your clit, pistoning his fingers inside you with all the expertise that you would not have expected from him.

This hot mess contiuned for a while, until you were throwing your head back, pleasure soaring through your every nerve as you came all over Steven’s face, and he gladly drank your essence straight from the source. He didn't stop, though, he just kept going, the wet pad of his tongue doing wonders at overstimulating you- and from his canting hips and repeated whimpers, you could tell he was close too. It became too much however, and roughly you tugged his head up off of you, seemingly giving him the boost of masochistic pleasure he needed to tip himself over the edge, spilling himself into his boxers, moaning and drooling where he lay his head on your thigh.

You stayed like that for a moment, marvelling at Steven's beauty. He had his juices all over his face, messy boy. And had some of it gotten in his hair? He was a needy baby, too. He soon decided that he just wasn't close enough to you, and crawled up your body to snuggle himself between your breasts, sighing. His voice was muffled a little; "Was it good?" And you almost audibly "awed" at how cute he was being. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and you kissed his head;

"It was amazing Steven." He hummed, still a little jealous it seemed, "Bet Jake doesn't do that." You swatted his head lightly. "Don't be mean." "Just teasing love.."

It was still dark outside. Pussy-eating was a tiring activity, it seemed, as you felt Steven cuddle his way back to sleep in your arms. You kissed his head again, unconsciousness soon taking you as well. Steven was more resilient to new information than Jake thought, it seemed.

#jake lockley #jake lockley moonknight #smut #jake lockely x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #Steven grant smit #moon knight #Moon knight x reader #Moon knight smut

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doctorsilverhead · 15 days ago

Note

please do something of Bay Optimus with the reader, but don't make them a couple, more like Optimus loves the reader but the feeling is so alien to him and he can't quite put a finger on it, specially because he think it'll be completely illogical (Shockwave moment), but despite all, still wants to be with you, like all the time, cuz you're full of kindness and compassion, and he just wants to surround himself with it. PLZ DO IT 😭

Heartstrings of Steel (Optimus Prime X Human Reader)

In the vast expanse of the cosmos, where stars twinkled like beacons of hope, a being of immense power and wisdom found himself drawn to the warmth of a human soul. Optimus Prime, the noble leader of the Autobots, had encountered countless battles and faced innumerable challenges, but nothing could have prepared him for the profound connection he felt towards you.

As he gazed upon your radiant presence, a strange sensation stirred within his spark – a yearning unlike any he had experienced before. It was a feeling so foreign, yet so captivating, that it left him in a state of bewilderment. The logical circuits of his mind struggled to comprehend the depth of this newfound emotion, for it defied the very laws of rationality that had governed his existence for eons.

Optimus Prime, a being forged from the finest alloys and imbued with the wisdom of the Primes, found himself drawn to the kindness and compassion that emanated from your very being. Your gentle spirit, untainted by the harshness of war and conflict, resonated with his own unwavering belief in the sanctity of life and the pursuit of peace.

As he observed you, he marveled at the way you carried yourself with grace and empathy, extending a hand of friendship to all who crossed your path. Your actions were a testament to the inherent goodness that resided within the human race, a quality that had often eluded his understanding in the midst of the endless battles he had fought.

Despite his vast knowledge and experience, Optimus Prime found himself at a loss to explain the profound connection he felt towards you. It was as if your very presence had ignited a spark within him, a spark that burned brighter than the stars themselves, filling him with a warmth he had never known before.

In those moments of quiet contemplation, he would ponder the depths of this newfound emotion, his processors whirring as he attempted to decipher the intricate web of feelings that had ensnared his spark. Yet, no matter how he tried to rationalize it, the truth remained elusive, a tantalizing mystery that beckoned him to explore the uncharted territories of his own existence.

To Optimus, the concept of love is as foreign as the distant stars from which he hails. His life, dedicated to the protection of all sentient beings, seldom affords him the luxury of exploring such deeply personal sentiments. Yet, in your company, he encounters an array of emotions that are as perplexing as they are profound. It is an experience akin to discovering a new spectrum of color in a world previously seen only in shades of duty and war.

Your interactions, though simple and unassuming, leave an indelible mark on Optimus's spark. He finds himself inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to be near you, to learn from you. The kindness and compassion you exude effortlessly are like beacons of light in his tumultuous existence. It's not just the battles won or the crises averted that begin to define his days, but the moments shared with you—moments that offer glimpses into what it means to be truly alive.

And so, Optimus Prime found himself drawn to your side, seeking solace in your company and basking in the radiance of your compassion. He yearned to surround himself with the very essence that made you who you were, for in your presence, he found a peace that transcended the boundaries of logic and reason.

Though the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, one thing remained clear – Optimus Prime's desire to remain by your side, to bask in the warmth of your kindness, and to learn the secrets of the human heart that had so profoundly touched his own. For in that moment, he understood that true strength lay not only in the might of his form but in the depth of his connection to those who embodied the virtues he held most dear.

#optimus prime #bumblebee #dark deception #decepticons #megatron #optimus prime x reader #transformers #transformers au #transformers bayverse #transformers g1

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ceesimz · 8 months ago

Text

Relationship Test

(this isn't gonna be the most description-heavy fic, it's mostly dialogue but I wanted to write this because I think the dynamic of 'gf asking stupid questions to annoy their partner' is really entertaining)

Realistically, Leah should have known from the moment the following question came out of your mouth that you were about to enter an incredibly annoying phase.

"Leah, if I was any supermarket, out of all the ones in the UK, which one would I be?"

She simply turned her head to look at you, completely thrown off by the question. A few moments passed by of her trying to suss you out, figuring out what on earth she should reply to that, before she paused the show you were both watching and took a deep breath.

"Is this a joke or is that a genuine question babe?" She finally replied.

You shrugged a shoulder, fighting off a grin, and looked expectantly at her.

"A genuine question."

Leah once again just stared at you. Where to even begin? Surely, there was no right answer here.

"What one do you think you would be?" She deflected the question, but you just shook your head.

"Good try, but I asked you."

She groaned and threw her head back.

"My love, I have absolutely no idea! I don't look at you and think, 'ah yeah, you are an Aldi', I don't know what you're trying to get at!" She cried out, eyes wide and hands gesturing wildly.

"An Aldi?" You gasped, dramatically feigning offence, even going so far as bringing a hand to your chest to give the full effect. "Leah, that's fucking low!"

"No, I didn't call you an Aldi, babe, I just used it as an example because it's a weird question to ask!"

"Yeah but that was the first one that came to your head! An Aldi, really? Unbelievable. I thought you would have valued me higher than that. Maybe a Tesco at least, but nooo, my girlfriend thinks I'm an Aldi." You sighed and refused to meet her gaze, turning to the paused TV screen and smiling to yourself as you heard her take a deep breath.

"Darling, you are a woman, not a supermarket. I value you higher than I value you myself, okay? It was just a silly question, let's not think too deeply about it." You shook your head once more and stood up from your place on the sofa, storming out the room. "No, babe, where are you going?"

Before you rounded the corner of the lounge, you sent her a cheeky grin and laughed.

"Just the toilet, Le, don't worry." You stated simply, then walked out.

That left the blonde sat stressing to herself whilst also being utterly perplexed at what had just occurred. When you walked back in a few moments later, she still looked visibly shell-shocked, which you couldn't help but giggle at.

"Earth to my girlfriend?" You teased, slotting yourself onto her lap and knocking on her forehead with a knuckle.

"You are something else, I swear." She sighed, a humoured smile on her face as she placed a kiss on your cheek.

Leah survived all of two days before the next one was fired her way, this time, on the drive home from Arsenal training. The pair of you were exhausted, having had a match the day before then being thrown into early morning training the next day. But that didn't stop you from exercising your newfound love.

"Hey Le?" You start, Leah humming. "If I died, would you fall in love again with another person?"

Leah's eyes almost popped out of their sockets at that one. She was still driving, so she couldn't even take a glance at you as she navigated through the London traffic.

"Sorry?" She choked out, sitting up in her seat.

"Would you move on and find another person after me?"

"Is this... a test?" Leah wondered, and it's so hard not to laugh at the hint of nerves clear in her voice.

"I'm just curious." You shrugged nonchalantly.

"I... well, that's a bit of a loaded question, babe." She breathed out, eyebrows furrowed down as she's overridden with countless thoughts. "I mean, first of all I'd be fucking devastated, my love."

"Not what I asked." You told her, to which she panicked more.

"I..." She stuttered over an answer. "I don't know, it would depend I guess?"

"Are you serious?" You begin to argue, Leah wincing and slouching her shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"I have no clue, babe! Sorry for not giving a valid answer, because I don't want to think about you dying!"

"Chill, Le, I'm just teasing you." She dropped her head back against the head rest and groans.

"You are gonna be the death of me." Leah grumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

"But seriously though, would you?"

"I swear to f-"

That last one was indeed a bit loaded, so you gave her a week's respite before the next one came. This time? In the cinema, as the adverts played before your chosen film.

"Love?" You whispered, nudging her arm that held her phone. She put it down on the arm rest and turned to you with a soft smile. "I've had a thought that's been plaguing me a bit recently."

"You wanna talk about it here?" Leah frowned, gently taking your hand as you nod. "Okay, my darling, out with it."

"Do you prefer my face or my body?"

Leah stared at you for a solid ten seconds before her body deflated and she dropped your hand. She chuckled to herself and pinched the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath.

"This is another one of those questions, innit." She sighed, turning to you to get confirmation. However, you offered no emotion or reaction. "Tell me, for this one, if this is a genuine... insecurity I need to tackle properly, or if this is another bullshit question."

"I want to know, Leah." You stated. She still couldn't tell if you were serious.

"I prefer your face, my love." She replied truthfully, because that was genuinely her answer.

"Why?" You challenged, still void of emotion.

"Because... that's what I fell in love with first. Your eyes and all the emotions you hold in them, not to mention how beautiful they are. Your smile that immediately makes me smile no matter what I'm going through. Your little freckles, your nose, your eyelashes that I'm still jealous of to this day. Your face was the first impression I got of you, my first glimpse getting to know you. So if you held me at gunpoint and told me to choose, I would say your face. Your body is absolutely beautiful and incredible of course, but you could have no arms and eleven toes and I'm almost certain I'd still love you." Leah answered.

To be honest, that is definitely not what you were expecting. You didn't think a stupid question found in a Tik Tok video captioned 'Questions To Start An Argument' could lead to such a heartfelt admission.

"Oh." Was all you said. "I was supposed to argue back at you."

"What?" She laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek.

"I was supposed to argue and say 'so you don't like this or that about my body' but you kind of took my breath away." You explained with a sheepish smile on your face.

"My love, you know I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, both your face and your body, but if I could only have one forever, it would be your face. Zero hesitation." Leah admitted. You blushed heavily and hid your face in her neck. "Not to say I wouldn't miss your body. You would miss it too, I know you love when I-"

"Nope!" You slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. "Just because we are in the back row of a cinema does not mean you can start saying things like that."

Leah smirked behind your hand and shrugged a shoulder.

"Your loss, baby."

The next one came when you lay awake in bed with Leah one morning a few days later. You were both lay on your stomachs, your hand gliding over Leah's back under her shirt as you gave her the back scratches she demanded with the promise of paying for breakfast in return. Admittedly, you were more of a morning person than Leah was, hence why the following question came to your mind at 8am whilst she could barely think. Was it possibly a bit unfair to ask such a layered question at a time you knew her mind wasn't as sharp as it could be? Absolutely not.

"Leah, could we discuss a hypothetical situation for a moment?" You asked. She opened one eye and looke at you with a face of disgust.

"Too early." She grumbled, closing her eye again and sighing.

"Okay." You left it for a few moments, before asking anyway. "If someone offered you money to go completely non-contact with me for three months, what's the lowest amount of money you'd accept it for?"

"What?" Leah glared at you, resting up on her elbows as she pushed her hair back out of her face. You went to repeat the question, but she shook her head and interrupted you. "I heard you. I mean, what the fuck kind of question is that?"

"Just curious." You shrugged, shifting to lay on your back and look up at her.

"I wouldn't do that." She said, plain and simple.

"It's only three months. What if it was for like, a million? That's three months of doing nothing for a ton of money, babe. That's a life-changing amount of money." You commented with a grin.

"Would you accept that?" She asked, outraged.

"Of course!" You answered immediately. Leah shook her head and threw the duvet off of her, jumping out of bed. "Come ooooon! You'd accept that too, surely?"

"You are a fucking wind-up." She grumbled, stepping into her slippers and leaving the room.

You stayed in bed with an amused smile, settling back down and wrapping yourself up with the duvet, until a voice came from the other room.

"I'd do it for free if you keep up with these stupid questions!"

At that, you jumped out of bed and ran to meet her in the kitchen, an endless amount of colourful expletives leaving your mouth on the way there.

A busy few weeks followed that morning, so your habit took a backseat to focus on an intense set of games. It slipped your mind completely, until one night when some of the Arsenal girls were around at Leah's apartment, waiting to watch one of the men's champions league games. When a multitude of irritated groans echoed around the lounge at the announcement of the game being postponed for a short while, you grinned to yourself from your place on the sofa beside Leah.

"Girls, I know how to keep us entertained in the meantime." You announced.

"We can't do karaoke again, last time I almost got kicked out of the flat." Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow in warning.

She was referring to an incident that occurred a few months back - a team bonding evening where you, Leah, and the majority of your teammates had a movie night that led to an intense karaoke session. Consequently, a few of the neighbouring apartments reported such event to the building's security team which resulted in a knock at Leah's door and a noise complaint letter being handed to her.

"Not karaoke, babe. Something better." You wiggled your eyebrows at the other girls and stood up from your seat. "Le, come on, help me get two stools from the kitchen."

"What are you planning?" She asked in a hushed tone as you led her to the kitchen.

"You'll see." You shrugged with a smirk, picking up one of the chairs and gesturing for Leah to do the same. Then, you wandered back to the lounge and placed your stool down in front of the TV, Leah doing the same. "Leah, take a seat."

Some of the girls whispered between themselves at the scene carrying out in front of them, getting a great view of what was about to occur.

"Babe, I swear-"

"Sit down, Leah Williamson!" You demanded, grabbing your phone from the couch.

"Oo, government name!" Beth teased, Leah glaring at her and doing as she was told.

You sat there in silence for a brief moment, trying to find the list on your phone that had been neglected for a little while. Once you'd found it, you looked at Leah across from you in her chair and cleared your throat.

"Leah, this is a relationship test." You stated.

Leah's face fell as the girls laughed loudly at her reaction, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish whilst she tried to find a response.

"Right now?" She replied, you nodding with a smug grin.

"Yep. I have a series of questions for you that you must answer. No cop-outs, no deflections, just the truth."

"This is gonna be good." Jen smirked, knowing what was about to occur. It had been her that sent you the video about it in the first place, little did she know she had planted such an entertaining seed in your mind.

"Ready?" You asked with an excited smile.

"No, I never agreed to this!" Leah cried out, looking helplessly at her teammates who simply laughed again.

"Suck it up, Leah!" Steph shouted, Beth grinning manically from beside her.

"First question!" You announced, the room falling quiet. "What is your biggest fear?"

"That's not a relationship question!" Kyra exclaimed, earning a smack on the knee from Caitlin.

"I don't know, dying?" Leah replied with a shrug.

"Wrong!" You respond.

"How's that wrong, it's my fear?!" She cried.

"The correct answer was: losing me." You revealed, the room bursting into laughter. You couldn't help yourself and joined in too as Leah groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"I know what this is gonna be now." She grumbled, looking back at you and waiting for the next question.

"Next question." You said, silencing the room. "If a genie offered you three wishes, but if you accepted them, there was a ten percent chance you lost me forever, would you take them?"

"Yeah because I would use a wish to get you back." Leah said with a shrug, thinking she had caught you out.

"Wrong. That's not possible." You shook your head shamefully at her.

"And how was I supposed to know that then?" She hit back, but you shrugged back at her.

"Not my problem." You stated as the girls laughed at Leah's eye roll. "Next. Would you rather never play football again or never have sex with me again?"

That one almost knocked Leah off her seat.

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Her cheeks were bright red as she argued, completely at a loss for words right now.

How had a quiet night watching the football, turned into her being the butt of the joke?

"You have to answer it, love." You lowered your phone and fixed her with a pressuring glare, everyone else in the room looking at her expectantly as they held in their laughter.

"Babe, I..." She stuttered, glancing around at her peers with a frantic look in her eyes.

"You're gonna be in the doghouse, Leah." Katie kindly reminded her, followed by a few muffled laughs from some of them.

"Never play football again." Leah answered in a nervous voice.

"Wrong!" You sighed, shaking your head.

"How is that- I can't fucking win." She groaned frustratedly and clenched her fists as everyone else once again laughed uncontrollably. "Please explain how that answer is wrong, my love."

"You shouldn't let your attraction to me override your career, my darling!" You told her with a dramatic pout. She couldn't help but chuckle at your reply, now starting to see the humour in this situation.

"Aren't you guys romantic." Beth rolled her eyes and waved you both off. "Move on, next question."

"Alright." You cleared your voice again, choosing your next blow. "If you learned that I had been hired to date you as part of a social experiment for research, would you be able to forgive me?"

"What the fuck!"

You couldn't help it anymore. You burst out laughing along with your friends and covered your face as you did, hearing Leah rant in the background of all the noise. A few moments passed of pure laughter before you sat back up straight and looked at your girlfriend who, if she was in a cartoon, would have literal steam coming out of her ears.

"Your answer, please." You asked impatiently, tapping your foot on the floor.

"Dating you is a social experiment, this is absurd, I mean-"

"Moving on." You ignored her rebuttal. "Would you rather kiss me for £100,000 or the prettiest woman in the world for a million?"

Leah took a deep breath, removing all previous irritation in her bones, before answering confidently.

"Prettiest woman in the world for a million." She stated, waiting for you to correct her.

"Wrong, how fucking rude. Why would you not kiss me?" You challenged with an angry scowl.

"Because you are the prettiest woman in the world." Leah stated simply with a soft smile, causing you to blush. The room was silent for a moment as you both gazed at each other, before the sound of someone jokingly gagging disrupted it.

"Get a room!" Kyra shouted, throwing one of the sofa pillows at you both. Everyone else followed her lead and started teasing you both, but Leah simply smirked and stood up.

"Get a room, you say? Alright."

She shrugged before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards her bedroom. The sounds of the others wolf-whistling and cheering followed you until it was shut out by Leah slamming the bedroom door closed.

"You done testing me now?" She asked with her eyebrows raised, pressing you back against the door and holding you in place by your hips.

"Guess so." You smiled uncontrollably at her, to which she laughed and let out a breath before hiding her face in your neck.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" She said, muffled by your skin.

"I know it, babe. You love me for it." You grinned. Leah lifted her back up and leaned down to press your lips together in a firm but teasing kiss, pulling back sooner than you wanted.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't, right?"

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson one shot #awfc #arsenal wfc

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