#sorry this for real has me in bed at midnight like

[verytendou]

The way this is rewriting my brain again

Said i was going to relisten to kinky boots but remembered that actually i never get past sex is in the heel bc its the song of all time

[astarionancuntnin]

Midnight's Embrace

summary: you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the netherbrain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

rating: E

word count: 3k

pairing: astarion x you x halsin (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, late act 3 business, reader is tav, massage turning into something more, polyamory, reader is sandwiched between her two bfs, recreational drug use, stoned sex, mildly dubious consent due to drug intake (reader & astarion), praise kink, threesome, dry humping, blood/vampire bites, unprotected sex, anal fingering and penetration, double penetration, creampie, aftercare, overall sane safe and as consensual as one can be under the influence.

a/n: taking a smol break from my angsty writing to deliver some smut goodness. hope you enjoy! (i sure did)

a/n²: this is absolutely self-indulgent stuff and i will not be sorry about it. i wish i had two loving boyfriends fucking me while i was high, is that so much to ask

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below ~

You can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep.

Since your arrival in Baldur’s Gate, your nights have been restless, and your anxiety related to your upcoming fight with the Netherbrain has only increased. It’s not uncommon for you to wake up sweating in the middle of the night, panting, and checking your surroundings. You feel as if you’re only one inconvenience away from crumbling and your lovers are worried about you. You keep trying to reassure them that you’ll be fine once the Netherbrain is dealt with, but they won’t hear you out; you’ve only ever taken care of your companions since the start. Everyone has found their peace but you. 

Halsin and Astarion urged you to start to focus on yourself, and you wanted to, but the truth is you had no idea where to start; you were used to taking care of everyone else, your own wellbeing never crossed your mind. One night, after Astarion feeds on you, he mentions how tense you are, and that he would gladly massage your neck to help with the tension you've accumulated. This makes you think about asking your other companions about their own techniques to decompress. Throughout the day, you ask around: “what do you do when you’re stressed out?” Shadowheart mentions that she meditates and stretches, and while it’s not a bad idea, with your mind constantly racing, you doubt you’d be able to easily meditate. Lae’zel mentions practice dueling, which she usually partakes with Wyll, and although it seems to be working for them, you wanna try to avoid more fighting before your upcoming fight. 

That’s when Halsin tells you about the medicinal benefits of some herbs, and how they could help you relax. Although you’ve never tried, you’re open to the idea; you’ll try anything that could potentially ease your night terrors. You spend the next day marching the streets to reach an herb shop. As you enter, a lady greets you cheerfully, offering her help to find you exactly what you need. They offered a great variety of consumables infused with their many strands available : pastries, desserts, drinks and potions, candies; if you could imagine it, they had it. The lady explains the effect each of their products have and their specialities. After looking around, you settle on a cookie with Midnight’s Embrace, a sleep inducing herb. You thank her and head back to the Elfsong for the night.

You finish your meal with the special cookie and soon after, you bid your companions goodnight before fetching your partners to accompany you through the night. After all, you still intend on holding Astarion to his word about that massage he mentioned the other night, and Halsin promised to be by your side as this was your first time consuming something like this.

You had reserved the room with the biggest bed they had, just for this occasion.  You reach for the bed first, lying comfortably on your chest, ready for your long-awaited massage. Halsin is next to join you, removing his shirt to get comfortable before sitting next to you with his back against the headboard, and Astarion joins soon after, kneeling behind you. The pale elf straightens up before laying his hands on your back, wasting no time to work through the knots in your tired muscles. The relief you feel is almost instant.

Halsin combs through your hair, pushing it aside to reveal your blissful face. “How are you feeling?”

“Sooooo good. A massage was the best idea.”

As it turns out, the massage combined with the herb-induced dessert enhanced each other, as the effect of the cookie you ingested earlier had already started settling in. When the lady mentioned they were “fast-acting”, you didn’t expect almost spontaneous-acting. Your skin feels more sensitive – in a good way – but you know that it’s the effect of the drugs, as if every touch was the softest caress you’ve received, and you found yourself leaning in the vampire's strong and graceful grip, only wanting more. As he makes his way to your lower back, a few unconscious moans escape your mouth before you can stop them. 

“I take it that you’re enjoying yourself, then?” Astarion asks, smiling, in response to your moaning.

“It’s just… your hands…” you sigh content, leaning into his touch. “They feel amazing.”

“I'm happy to provide, my love.”

His dexterous hands turn you to putty and you wish you could feel more, every inch of your body yearning for attention. He keeps working on your back while you reach out to Halsin, his much bigger hand holding yours tightly. You slightly turn your head to be able to look at him.

“I… want you to touch me too.”

“Tell me where you need me, my heart.”

“Can you hold me? I want to be held by you two.”

The two men look at each other in understanding before repositioning themselves on each side of you ; Astarion hugging your waist from behind, nuzzling himself in the crook of your neck, and Halsin sheltering you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours.

The effects of the cookie kept getting stronger : you felt lighter, more peaceful and happier, your mind was clear from any lingering anxiety, only taking in the love surrounding you. In the comfort of their arms, you let your hands roam over the archdruid's chest, exploring each crevasse. The drugs made you more sensitive, especially down there, and it doesn’t take you long to feel a familiar warmth pool down to your stomach. You gently rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling growing between your legs, when you feel the man behind you slightly pull away. 

“Hold on, are you–” He raises his head to look down your waist, “Oh, you little devil. You are touching yourself!”

It seems that you had lost all awareness, not realizing your movements were brushing against Astarion’s groin. Your blood rushes to your face and you suddenly feel warm, “I– Gods, I didn't realize–”

He clicks his tongue, “None of that. We're here for you to feel better, remember? Now, tell us, what does your heart desire?”

“I…” You feel bashful for all the thoughts swirling around your mind, unable to speak them aloud: you wish to be taken at once by both of your lovers, having them make you feel whole as they fill you with their love, touch, kiss, bite, every part of your body. Surely, you're influenced by the herbs, but you can't deny that even sober, the thoughts have crossed your mind. The drugs simply allowed them to wander freely and amplify them slightly. 

You finally manage to get a few words out, barely expressing the full extent of your carnal desires, “I want you… Both… to… massage me… everywhere.”

Halsin cups your face softly, kissing your forehead before getting up. “Let's get you comfortable, shall we?”

You nod hazily, and he helps you remove your camp clothing, before removing the rest of his own, leaving you both naked on the bed. While Halsin was helping you dress down, Astarion allowed himself to remove his own shirt, providing you the skin-on-skin you desired from both of them, all the while respecting his own boundaries. Now comfortably nestled between your lovers, you let your hands explore the man facing you. His warmth is overwhelming and you can't stop touching him, languidly going over his chest and shoulders, your concentration faltering.

“I believe our beloved is rather hungry tonight,” Astarion says, smiling.

The archdruid makes eye contact with you, lovingly holding your cheek, “Is this what you want, my love?”

“Yes, please, I've never wanted anything more,” you plead, now with a breathy voice.

Halsin gives you a soft smile and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your hips buck on their own, brushing over Halsin’s cock already awakening to your touch

Astarion keeps massaging your tits, never letting you go from his embrace and starts kissing your neck.

“Do you like that, my sweet?” He said between two kisses.

“Y- yes… please… more.”

He drags his hand alongside your body, his nails lightly grazing your skin, tracing every curve, every scar and mark on your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail, before landing over your ass.

“Like this?” He asks with a husky voice.

“Yes…” you breathe out.

Halsin follows Astarion's lead, his own hand caressing your side before landing on your thigh, lifting it up to hook your leg around his waist.

“How about this?”

His hand finds its way to your cunt, softly stroking along your entrance.

You sigh content, your hips bucking into him more, trying to make his fingers enter you.

“More…I need more…”

The archdruid slides his finger inside you, giving you exactly what you want and you moan, letting your nails dig in the muscles of his arm. He steadies his rhythm and your hand finds its way in Astarion's hair, pulling him closer to you. His lips reach your ear, guided by your hand.

“By the gods, you're so beautiful,” he says, nibbling on your ear, getting a whimper out of you, as he leaves a trail of kisses down the nape of your neck.

The attention from your lovers makes you squirm under them as every inch of you is yearning for more contact. Halsin rewards your movements by entering you with a second finger and you cry out of pleasure.

“Keep singing for me my love,” Halsin says.

His fingers working your cunt and his thumb rubbing over your clit only awaken something stronger in you.

“Please Halsin, I need you.”

“You will have me, my heart.”

Your other hand reaches for his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes, “All of you.”

He reads the urgency in your gaze and he removes his finger from you, giving them a taste and humming at your essence.

“By the Oak Father, you taste like the sweetest of honeys, my love.” His voice is deep, but soft; you can hear the admiration he holds for you, your body, your soul, and it only makes you want him even more.

He places his cock at your entrance before slowly pushing in fully, and you hold onto his face, taking in deep breaths as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 

“Look at you…” Astarion whispers close to your ear. “You're taking him so well, my love,” he rewards you by groping your nipples, lightly pinching them in the process.

You arch your back at the sensation, giving him easier access to not only your breast, but your neck as well, and his mouth instinctively finds its way to the familiar spot of his feeding. His cold tongue traces over your pulsating vein, seemingly asking for permission, and yet, you were the one reduced to a pleading mess.

“Please...”

He hums in the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin, “Please what?”

Your chest rises higher with each breath you take “Bite me.”

He holds your head back by lightly pulling your hair and sinks his teeth into your neck. You cry out at the initial sting and quickly get lost in the feeling. The flow of your blood leaving your body is even more ecstatic than usual; as if you could feel the blood in every vein in your body being pulled away as Astarion drank from you ravishingly. Knowing your limits and accounting for the condition you're in, he pulls back earlier than usual, and you whine at the loss of his mouth only to moan more as Halsin finally starts moving inside you. What the vampire hadn’t thought of was the effect your blood was going to have on him, now that it was mixed with the drugs you took earlier. It wasn't rare for him to get hard drinking from you, but he usually dismissed the feeling since you've discussed taking things slow. This time however, his cock felt rock hard and the drugs now flowing through him made him chase the feeling that the fabric rubbing over him was providing.

He grabs your waist, grinding into your back, while Halsin pumps in and out of you with slow strokes. With any restraint gone, Astarion pushes his hips into you, rubbing himself down through his trousers. By now, his need is clearly showcased by the pre-come stain on his pants, and the head of his cock poking out of his waistband, flushed pink by your blood running through it.

Halsin notices Astarion's mood change and he reaches out to hold his face, bringing him back to him, before he can act on impulse.

“Do you want this?”

His eyes are sincere and caring; granted the reasons they're in this situation is for you, but that doesn't undermine their own needs as well. Astarion nods, affirming his consent, before freeing his erection to show his intentions. Now certain that his lover wanted this as much as himself, Halsin made sure you were ready for them.

He cups your face and gently strokes your cheek. As if he had read your mind earlier, he asks, “Do you think you can take us both, my heart?” 

“Yes,” your voice is merely a whisper, but the lust you express is clear nonetheless. 

He removes himself from inside of you to wet his fingers with your juices, only to take them back out to move them down to your tight hole. His finger coated by your slick gently enters your ass and you gasp at the sensation, surprised at first, but welcoming it as you push down against him. He slides a second finger and you moan in pleasure.

“That's my good girl.”

He prepares your hole, making sure you're accustomed to the feeling, then removes his fingers to spit in his hand, now to prepare Astarion for you. He grasps the vampire's length and slowly strokes him. Astarion hisses at the initial contact, but quickly melts into his touch, bucking his hips into Halsin's wet hand. The archdruid aligns his partner's cock at your tight entrance while he positions himself back against your pussy, ready to enter you again. He asks for one final permission.

“Are you ready, my love?” 

With partly lidded eyes, you nod and whisper a faint yes, and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, while his hips and Astarion's thrust into you at once. 

You cry into his mouth, both overwhelmed by their sizes and the friction having both of them at the same time provided, and behind you, the vampire growls, steadying himself inside your ass. Having both him and Halsin inside you like this was a sensation you couldn’t begin to describe. It’s everything you ever wanted, you feel whole, but also vulnerable; you were entirely at their mercy, and you wouldn’t be able to get out from their strong hold on you, especially not in the state you’re in. You're completely helpless, caged between their imposing arms and legs, and yet, you’ve never felt more safe than you do right at this moment. For once, you could let go, let yourself be guided, your life between their hands.

You’re brought back to the moment when they start moving, picking up a slow and steady pace, and you let yourself be used by them; while one pulls out, the other enters you fully. You’re rendered speechless, reduced to moans and soft cries, but your lovers make sure to fill in for your silence.

“You feel so good.” The voice behind you groans close to your ear. His grip on your hips tightens, with his sharp nails lightly digging into your soft skin.

“So deliciously wet, just for us.” A honeyed voice praises you more and you start to lose your hold.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight.”

“You're doing so well.”

Their words of praise worked like a charm on you, and they knew the effect it had on you. They noticed how you reacted to encouragement on the battlefield, and it applied just as much in bed. 

“My love.”

“My good girl.”

The shock to your mind hits you like lightning. You convulse between them, crying out as electricity runs through you, your walls tightening against their cocks, milking them dry. 

“Ugnnh I'm– ah fuck- I'm close.” 

“Mnh- my heart, I’m gonna come–.”

You're still going through your first orgasm when you feel a second one hitting you brutally as they shoot ropes of come inside both of your holes, leaving you overflowing from them.

The sensation numbs you out entirely, still spasming around their members, but completely spent and breathless. Your mind is blank, with nothing but pure bliss swirling around. As if you were between two worlds, switching from dream to reality, you barely feel your lovers pull out of you and move around, cleaning themselves and you. You think you hear a distant voice saying “let’s get you cleaned up” as you’re lifted up from the bed. You don’t notice Astarion removing the ruined sheet, but too tired of his own to care about replacing it with another, and snuggling back in bed. You’re laid down next to him and you instinctively reach out for him; your hand reaching out for his, laying close to his undead heart, and your forehead leaning over his shoulder. Finally, the archdruid slides behind you, covering you three with a warm blanket, his arm circling over your waist. At long last, you let yourself drift to sleep in his loving embrace.

For the first time in weeks, you get a real, good night of sleep.

~

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat

[scorpiondancing]

My favorite Wangxian fics:

Check the tags! I like all Wangxian dynamics 🖤 (I know it's not everyone's cup of tea)

(some of my favs sadly were hidden but these are the ones still up and ready to read)

Lan Never Kiss and Tell by FeelsForBreakfast

Explicit • Modern au

Wei Ying discovers Lan Zhan has kissed everyone in their friend group and decides he needs to remedy that IMMEDIATELY (more than kissing ensues)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

we don't need to talk about it by: vesna (mrsronweasley)

Explicit • Modern au (fake dating)

In order to get an apartment they pretend to be a couple and they just keep pretending even when they are alone.. and eventually fall in love for real

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Midnight, The Stars, And You by: Carrie25

Explicit • Modern au (coffee shop)

Lan Zhan works at a cafe while going to college and his new coworker Wei Ying turns his life into a bit of chaos. Only a lil bit of angst (like barely)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

your problem as a mountain. by: cupofwater

Explicit • Canon Divergence (no war)

Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian send each other letters about their desires and fantasies. Nie Huaisang's brother unknowingly sends off the ones he labeled "Lan Wangji" to the man himself

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

solstice: 那夏天的我们 by: auberjing

Explicit • canon divergence (cloud recesses arc, no war)

Wei Ying decides he needs to teach Lan Zhan how to please himself... as a good friend. It all spirals out of his control

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

The Sculptor by: Eleanor_Fenyx

Mature • Modern au (1970s)

Lan Zhan and Wen Qing are in a lavender marriage and when he sees an ad to be a model, he for some reason takes it. Who would've thought that the artist was just his type

(Such good pining + lil misunderstanding)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Punchline by: jiangnan

General Audience • Humor

“Sorry guys, I’ll only know love it if hits me in the face!” Wei Wuxian laughed....

And then Lan Wangji punches him

(It's so silly, I laughed so hard. Truly adore this one)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

i'm gonna drown when you wake up by: teenjiism

Explicit • Modern au

Neurodivergent Wangxian, getting together, slow burn, banter, PINING. It's just so good and I relate way too hard to adhd demisexual Wei Ying

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

in the blossom season (in the pouring rain) by: varnes

Mature • Modern with magic

Local florist, Wei Ying, seems to have a "magic touch" when it comes to plants. Lan Yuan meets someone he calls "Doctor Flowers" and Lan Zhan's apartment rooftop garden suddenly grows exponentially.

(I adore fics with A-yuan 😭)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

the soft animal of your body by: sysrae

Teen Audience • Modern with cultivation

BIG WHUMP WEI YING 😭 but it has a happy ending

Lan Huan needs a sitter for his newly acquired rabbit... and Wei Ying was in need of a warm bed and a shower.

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Going on charmingly by: scribbet

Teen Audience • Canon Divergence

Cloud recesses arc but Wei Wuxian was a disciple of Baoshan Sanren and he is better of for it.

Lan Wangji is a lil sassy in this one

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

breaking in soft fires and wildflowers by AhoyTheShipOfDreams

Explicit • canon divergence (set during sunshot campaign)

Lan Wangji gets cursed and he must have physical contact at all times or he will be in immense pain and eventually die. Thankfully Wei Wuxian is there to help

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Meet Me Friday At Seven by: craftyTrickster

Explicit • Modern au

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan meet when they both have a blind date with other people and decide to keep meeting before and after each date to commiserate.. it's slow burn but they work it out, lots of oblivious pining bc of miscommunication

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Traveling in shadows, chasing your light by: MusicMe_tc

Mature • Canon divergence (getting together)

Lan Zhan gets hurt protecting Wei Ying at Nightless City. He gets taken to the Burial Mounds where Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen both learn they may have misjudged the Yiling Patriarch while they all heal Lan Zhan

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

A Haunting Love by: omegas_m, Selenay

Explicit • Modern with cultivation

Lan Zhan moves into a house that seems to be haunted by a very talkative ghost.

This one is full of mystery, suspense, romance, ANGST but a very happy end

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

paint smears on sunny days by: SnowshadowAO3

Explicit • Modern au (getting together)

Lan Zhan is running late to pick up his son but thankfully his son's art teacher watches him. And Lan Zhan may or may not fall in love at first sight.

I love the softness and cute little A-Yuan.

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

it's a long road but we're not alone by: Stratisphyre

Mature • Canon Divergence

Jiang Yanli and Jin Ling "disappear" along with the Yiling Patriarch.

16 years later Lan Jingyi is on a night hunt and meets some rogue cultivators who remind Lan Wangji of a certain someone.

(Wangxian get together in the end)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

A More Practical Approach by: Elhana

Teen Audience • post canon

The Lan elders want to stop wangxian from doing it all the time so they make Wei Ying a teacher. He finds a way to teach the students with elaborate arrays and mazes in order to buy him and his husband some alone time

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Yearning for Miles by Murahi

Mature • Canon Divergence

Wei Ying finds an artifact in his dorm room at the Cloud Recesses. When him and Jiang Cheng test it out, they can see the future. With the help of Nie Huaisang they plan to change everything.

THIS IS THE BEST LONG FIC 🛐 I cried

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

The Light That Fails to Dim by: glowingreverie

Teen Audience • Canon Divergence

Wei Ying gets taken in by the Nie sect but still is able to learn the sword and not the sabre.

Really underestimated how angsty it would get but such a good happy end with brothers nhs and wwx along the way

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

inevitable everything by: isablightwood

Explicit • Canon Divergence

Wei Ying is Baoshan Sanren's adoptive grandson and still learns demon cultivation but differently. He offers his help with the Sunshot campaign but only if he can marry Lan Zhan

This one is angsty with unexpected twists + happy end

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

Adventures in babysitting (or attempts at romance) by: Morgana_avalon

Mature • post canon

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get turned into 5 year olds and Lan Xichen needs Jiang Chengs help

This might not be everyone's fav but I love baby Wangxian and secretly love the VERY rare pair. Unexpectedly fell in love with them (read the tags)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

The Golden Cutsleeve by: syrus_jones

Explicit • Canon divergence (Cloud Recesses arc)

Wei Ying saves a girl from being spiritually attached to an adult toy by attaching it to himself. Unfortunately he gets caught "just testing it out to make sure it's really attached to me" and in a dumb moment he gives it to Lan Wangji thinking he wouldn't actually use it right?

(Embarrassing but so funny, I love this one)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

A new found family by: MusicMe_tc

General Audience • Canon divergence (Cloud Recesses arc)

Lan Zhan gets turned into a baby and Lan Qiren has to take care of him while keeping it a secret. Unfortunately Wei Ying misses his buddy and sneaks into the Jingshi and finds a familiar looking child. He is given permission to help out and Lan Qiren gets a soft spot for the boy.

(Wangxian get together)

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane

Explicit • Modern au (accidental baby acquisition)

Wei Ying wakes up and finds a child in his apartment with a note from his cousin and no clear idea on how long this kid is gonna stay. Suddenly becoming a dad while in college is a lot. So he misses music rehearsal. Thankfully Lan Zhan comes over to check in on his classmate and ends up staying to help him out.

Acquaintances to lovers with a kid to speed things up

｡₍ ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ ₎｡

[luveline]

hi jade!! it’s currently nearly midnight for me, but, i was wondering if we could get some comfort with spencer (or hotch, whichever one is more fitting in your opinion) and his girlfriend when she’s getting burnt out (in case you couldn’t tell this is grossly self indulgent. Oops.) love you jade!!!!!

ty for requesting, love you! fem

Aaron has conducted an investigation on you in the past few weeks. He doesn’t like his findings. 

“You’re acting like me.” 

Laid on his couch with a box of chocolates on your chest, you send him a suspicious look. Jack sneaks over to take one of your favourites in a blur of brown hair and blue pyjamas. You hardly react.

“Jack, did I get those for you?” Aaron asks.

“He can have some,” you say, glaring at him. It’s not necessarily fake anger, but it’s also not real anger either. Annoyance, perhaps, of which you’ve found yourself a victim these last few weeks.

“They’re supposed to make you feel better.”

“Jack being happy makes me feel better.” 

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Alright, but when there’s none of the best ones left, don’t come crying to me.” 

“Come here. I’ve saved you the one with the walnut.” 

Aaron answers your demand. He lifts your legs and lays them across his thighs, and he only eats a chocolate every time you force it into his hand or against his cheek. The gifts he’s been giving you seem to work some in repairing whatever it is that’s getting you down. You have no answers for him —irritates you more, being asked, because you have no answer. 

As far as Aaron can tell, you’re still in love, work is fine, and Jack’s your best friend. He isn’t even doing it in the name of chocolate. Aaron reaches over to stroke Jack’s hair and Jack, apparently too old for fatherly affection, won’t let him do it, but you’re allowed to scratch your nails along the back of his neck. 

At nine, Aaron takes Jack upstairs for bed. Again, he’s too old for stories now, but not too old to get tucked in and kissed goodnight. He thinks of it as a dad win. Jack doesn't fuss. He says, “Night dad,” and “Love you,” and then “Love you more!” when Aaron pesters him. 

“Dad?”

Aaron pokes his head back through the door. “What, sweetheart?” he asks. 

Jack grins. “Can you tell Y/N I said goodnight, please?” 

“Of course I can. Love you three times, okay? Try to sleep now, otherwise you’ll be tired in the morning.” 

Jack rolls his eyes but puts his head down.

Aaron smiles about Jack, his growing boy. He’s worried about you, which has the smile surely fading. Aaron’s worried about you too, but he hasn’t felt like he could do much about it. You’re agitated, restless, tired but somehow not. You’re just drained of all your energy, no matter how much sleep you get. 

Aaron goes down the last of the stairs, following the sounds of you to the kitchen. You’re making two cups of something, Aaron can’t tell. But you’ve stopped at the sink, flaring your fingers, watching the skin tighten around your knuckles. 

“Having that headache again?” he asks softly. 

“I’m sorry for being grumpy all night.” 

“If we had to apologise for grumpiness, I would always be emphatically sorry.” He taps at your elbow until you fall into his chest. “Oh, honey,” he says, a little theatrical, but mostly genuinely sympathetic, “whatever this is, it’ll go away.” 

“Feel garbage and stupid.” 

“You are neither of those things.” 

“I need to get over it, though. I can’t just feel like this. It has to end eventually.” 

“I think by rushing it, you’re actually erasing any progress you’re making. You’re burned out, honey. It could happen to anyone, but it’s happening to you, so why don’t you just let me spoil you for a few days? Ooh, let’s play hooky.” 

“As if.”

“You should actually take a few days off if you feel like this.” Aaron hugs your forehead to his nose forcefully, which makes you giggle all weird. He loves it. “Let me call your doctor, you can get an appointment. Just a few days for emergency mental health care, mm?”

“You are asking me a very serious question but acting very non-serious,” you murmur. 

Aaron kisses your cheek. “Do you want me to be more serious?” he asks sincerely. “Serious hasn’t worked so far. I thought we’d fake it till we make it.” 

You curl your arm behind his neck to stop him from rubbing the scruff of his chin against you anymore, pulling away, meeting his eyes with warmth. “Thanks for saying ‘we’.” 

“You and me,” he says, rubbing you with his chin anyways.

[helaintoloki]

Now that we know how Ben was a bit rebellious when he was a teen, how are we feeling about a fic where he used to sneak out to meet with reader, who is very much a sunshine person?

a/n: ty for requesting and i hope you enjoy ! also to clarify the ben in this piece is the original ben and not the sparrow

warnings: language

summary: ben manages to sneak out and pay a visit to his favorite person

At the exact stroke of twelve o’clock, three pebbles are thrown against the glass of your window to alert you of the waiting presence below. You’re quick to drop the book you’d been reading and lift the glass to greet your midnight visitor who immediately begins to climb through and into your bedroom.

“You’re late,” you tell him with an impatient look as he finally sets foot on your plush rug.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Ben confesses apologetically before dusting himself off and removing his shoes. “Dad stayed up later than I thought he would.”

“What about Luther?”

“He swore to secrecy after I threatened to tell Allison he wet his pants last week because he couldn’t get his uniform off fast enough to use the bathroom,” the boy explains with a cheeky smile, laughing at the playful nudge you give him.

“That’s evil,” you scold him with a giggle that conveys your lack of conviction.

“Sometimes a man just has to resort to blackmailing his brother in order to successfully sneak out,” he expresses with an innocent shrug before enveloping your frame into a tight hug to emphasize his point. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. It’s been lonely without you around,” you admit as the ghost of a frown begins to form on your lips.

“Are your parents gone again?”

“Another business trip,” you confirm as nonchalantly as possible in hopes of masking your hurt at their neglect. “Won’t be home for at least two weeks, so it’s just me here.”

“I promise to sneak out and see you as much as I can,” Ben vows earnestly, carefully cupping your cheek in his hand and pulling your face closer to his own so that he may press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“It isn’t so bad,” you admit with a lighthearted smile as you pull away from him and move towards your closet to retrieve something. “You want to see what I found at the bookstore today?”

Ben isn’t given a chance to answer your hypothetical question as you display the said item for him to see. It takes a moment for the boy to realize what it is he’s looking at, but once it processes an unamused huff of air leaves through his nostrils in response.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually spend money on that thing.”

“Technically I stole money from my mom’s purse to buy it, so no, I didn’t,” you correct him defensively before proudly holding up your purchase. “I figured if the real Ben can’t keep me company twenty-four-seven, then action figure Ben can.”

“That’s ridiculous!” He cries out indignantly before snatching the thing out of your grasp to scrutinize the details. “It doesn’t even look like me!”

“Of course it does!”

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Ben can only sigh and hand the doll back to you before moving to make himself comfortable on your bed. Having decided you’ve teased him enough for one night, you set the figure on your nightstand before moving to join him. It’s almost as if you naturally fit perfectly into his side when you curl up next to him and bask in the warmth of his arms around you. Nights like these have become more rare with time, so you like to make the most of it while you can.

“We should run away together,” you suggest casually after a comfortable bout of silence. You feel Ben’s chest rise beneath your fingertips with the amused laugh that leaves him in response.

“And where would we go?”

“Anywhere we want.”

“As enticing as that sounds, I can’t,” he reminds you. Frowning, you shift your frame and prop your head up on your hand so that you’re facing him.

“Why not?” You retort indignantly, almost offended by his immediate rejection. “My parents constantly forget that I exist and your dad is a complete asshole. Why should we stick around?”

“Look, my dad is a jerk, and I would love to just drop the whole super hero thing and never look back. But I can’t… I can’t just leave my siblings behind,” Ben explains gently while reaching out to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

“So you’ll just wait for them to leave you behind instead?” You retort, aggrieved on his own behalf at the thought.

“They wouldn’t do that-“

“Five already did.”

A tense silence follows your words, and you bite your lip in regret at having let it slip. You know you’ve gone too far judging by the flash of hurt that passes on Ben’s face, and you’re quick to apologize for your lack of eloquent conversation skills.

“I don’t mean to be harsh,” you quietly clarify as you meet his understanding gaze. “I just don’t think it’s fair we both have to stick around and suffer because we got stuck with shitty parents. I want to get out of here, Ben. Don’t you?”

He pauses for a beat, his voice soft as he finally answers, “I do. And I promise you that one day we will. We just have to hold out for a little longer is all.”

“You swear?” You ask meekly, almost afraid he’ll change his mind and take it back. However, Ben takes your free hand in his own and gives it a reassuring squeeze before replying, “I swear on my life.”

Placated by the sincerity of his words, you’re happy to resume your previous position of being nestled into his side as he begins to tell you the latest tales of the Umbrella Academy, and you can live comfortably without the knowledge of knowing that Ben has made a promise he soon won’t be able to keep.

[fushigurioo]

SAKURA VS TECHNOLOGY

FACETIME EDITION

y/n is missing sakura, so they thought they’d facetime him so they could see him before bed. oh, if only they’d known what a struggle it would be..

wc: 831

You blink down at your phone screen - in utter disbelief in what it’s displaying back to you. Once, twice, three times.

“HELLO?? Why aren’t ya saying anything?” Sakura huffs on the other end. “Why are ya calling me this late anyway it’s midnight, what’s up?”

Another second passes before you sigh and giggle at your boyfriend, who currently has his phone pressed against his ear, despite being on a facetime call.

“What are ya laughing at? HELLO?”

“Haru..babe.. take your phone away from your ear. This is facetime.” You say, trying with all your might to hold back your laughter. As funny as it may be, how clueless he is with technology, you find it simply adorable at how surprised and flustered he gets when he discovers something new on his phone that would be so mundane to most.

“Huh? It’s what time?” He asks, while pulling the device away from his ear and looking down at the screen.

You tilt yours away from your face, snorting and choking on your laughter.

He’s lying on his back, flat on his pillowless futon. His two-toned hair is pushed back and messy. He’s looking downwards at his phone, holding it just slightly below his chest. It’s the most UNFLATTERING angle.

Your restraint cracks and you burst out into a fit of laughter at the combination of the angle, and his confused expression when he realised he can SEE you on his phone.

“Huh.. What the hell is this? How is there a video of ya on my screen? Did you do this?” He’s talking so fast, and has the most precious pink blush spreading across his cheeks.

“No Haru,” you say in between short laughs. “This is facetime. It’s a phone call, but we can see each other at the same time! I thought we could try it out because I couldn’t sleep and I miss you.” You explain, propping your phone up against a makeshift lump on your blanket, giving him a little wave and heart hands.

“It’s- oh..” Sakura mumbles. He smiles softly down at his phone, his heart rate increasing when he registers that he’s looking at you in real time. His blush deepens just ever so slightly into a darker shade of pink. Though, the sweet moment soon ended when his eyes widen and he gasps, sitting up quickly and fixing his messy hair.

“Wait - did ya say we see each other? You can see me too?” There’s a slight tremor in his voice, he’s nervous.

“Mhm” you nodded. “I saw how happy you were to see me.”

His face flushes all over again and he chokes on his breath. “AS IF! I wasn’t happy to see you, I was just surprised that - huh? What’s with ya?” Concern briefly flashes through his face as he clocks your face, which had lost its smile and in turn replaced it with a pout, your lower lip sticking out. Just a slight manipulation tactic you mastered which always catches your boyfriend off guard when he’s yapping random words to make it seem like he isn’t completely head over heels in love with you.

“I’m sorry, I really did think you’d be happy..” You carried on with your pretend sad act, knowing that Sakura would crumble at any second.

And boy, did he crumble.

“HEY! STOP DOING THAT I -“ he lowers his voice and looks down to his left, avoiding eye contact. “I am happy to see ya, okay? I.. I missed you too.”

Your heart swells with undeniable joy and love for your boyfriend, and your happy smile made its way back to your face. Sakura moved his eyes back to his phone screen, and after seeing your change of expression, couldn’t fight the small smile that spread across his face too, nor the sheer adoration in his eyes as you moved on and started telling him about some funny tiktok you had just watched.

From this night onward, you and Sakura would always facetime before you fall asleep, on the nights that you don’t spend together.

Despite facetiming becoming a regular routine for the two of you, Sakura still always puts the phone to his ear when it’s you calling him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

BONUS

“Did you guys hear the rain last night guys? Boy, it was really coming down.” Nirei questions his friends, before taking a sip of the coffee he had, courtesy of Kotoha.

“Mhm. Although not for long, heavy rain always relaxes me into a peaceful sleep.” Suo answers.

“Not me. I didn’t realise, I was talking to y/n on face chat. Face talk.. whatever.” Sakura explains nonchalantly, taking a bite out of his egg sandwich.

Kotoha, Suo and Nirei all exchange knowing, amused glances with each other, with Kotoha covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.

“I think he means facetime.” Suo said, with his signature closed eyed smile and head tilt.

“I SAID WHATEVER.”

NOTE FROM RIO: THIS IS MY FIRST NON SMAU POST 😭😭 I really hope you all enjoy, as always please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see and i’ll do my best to make it happen❤️

[cameronsprincess]

Hot Coco + Movie ☕️ — could i get a dark!reader and dark!rafe where rafe doesn’t even know the girl he’s into shares some of the same kinks until he actually tries it on her? 🖤🩷 (stalking, mask kink, chasing, knife/blood play, masochism/sadism) *rafe and reader aren’t together but rafe is obsessed with her not knowing she is also obsessed with him and possibly darker than he is) sorry if that didn’t make sense and if it’s too much😭🤞🏼

babeeee your request is so yummy🤤 it’s never too much, i love this and i love you!🖤

CW: smut! 18+ only! dark!rafe x dark!reader, mutual obsession, stalking (rafe follows reader in this + she admits to stalking him), slight knife play, blood play, choking, piv sex, strong language, praise and degrading. rafe’s pov.

5k blurbs/moodboards m.list

Rafe.

the nighttime air was cool, an occasional gust of wind slapping against my face with every step i took. it was a little past midnight, and i should be home, in bed getting rest for a day of working with my dad tomorrow. but when i peered out my window and saw her sneaking out the side door of her house, i had to follow.

i look up for a moment, placing my eyes back on her, the only girl worth getting out and walking aimlessly around the streets of the cut for. where the fuck is she going? we’ve been walking for close to an hour now. not that i should care, she’s not even mine. but she will be, she just doesn’t know it yet.

lowering my head, i place my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, my fingers lightly grazing over the handle of my knife. my cock jerks in my sweatpants at the thought of pressing the blade against her neck, my lips claiming hers for the first time, forcing her to realize she’s mine and always has been.

i lift my head again, wanting to have my eyes on her perfect ass, but when i look up, she’s gone. what the fuck? where did she go? she was just-

my thoughts die out, the feeling of a sharp object pressed into my back making me straighten my spine, muscles tense and jaw clenched. i swear to fucking god, these pogues are somethin’ else.

chuckling, i pull my hands from my hoodie pocket and raise them slowly, “look, you might as well just fuckin’ kill me, because i ain’t giv-”

“rafe cameron. why the fuck are you following me?”

the sweet sound of her voice has my muscles relaxing. i lower my hands to my side, slowly turning to face her. the moment my eyes lock with hers, heat floods my veins, my cock jerking and thickening in my sweatpants. she’s a fucking goddess, and the way she’s tightly gripping her own knife, pressing it into my chest? fuck me. the full moon illuminates her features beautifully, making her eyes sparkle more than they do in the sunlight.

“just makin’ sure a pretty girl like you is safe. i mean, s’not safe on these streets late at night, never know who’s watchin’ you or planning on grabbing you and using you.”

her eyes narrow into slits, her head cocking to the side just the slightest. she lets out a laugh, the sound going straight to my aching dick.

“oh, rafe, trust me when i say… i can take care of my fucking self,” she pauses, pulling the blade from my chest and taking a step back from me. “tell me the real fuckin’ reason you’re following me.”

i don’t speak, instead i study every inch of her face. my eyes run down from the top of her head, over her eyes, nose and end on her perfect lips. she’s such a fucking sight, one i wish i could hide away and keep for myself only. no one else deserves to see her fucking beauty, no one else is fucking good enough to see her face, her body, any of it. she’s mine.

i step toward her and she lifts her knife again. i chuckle at the action, my hands reaching out to grip her wrist. the knife falls from her hand, the sound of it clanking against the ground echoing through the otherwise quite air. she gasps, my hand tightening around her small wrists and yanking her into me. i run my free hand down the side of her face, pulling the most beautiful fucking whimper from her lips. she surprises me when she melts into my touch, leaning her face into my hand that rests on her cheek.

“oh, princess, that is the real reason… well, that and the fact that i plan on fucking you tonight,” she gasps, her eyes meeting mine. something dark flashes across her features, just for a second and then it’s gone, but it was there. “did you know… that i’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with you since the moment i saw you?”

a grin slowly spreads across her lips, the sight making my chest tighten. “yeah?” she pauses, taking advantage of my being distracted by her to rip herself from my hold, bending down to grab her knife and pressing it back into my chest, “what if i said… i’ve also been obsessed with you? what if i said… i’m responsible for all the bitches you touch ending up hurt? what if i said… i’ve watched you every day for the last two years? not a single move you make has gone unnoticed by me…”

sexual tension wraps itself around us, squeezing us so tightly i feel like i can’t breathe. fuck, this girl drives me fuckin’ crazy… i step farther into her, the sharp point of her knife pressing further into my chest when i do. i place a hand behind her head, my fingers wrapping around the strands and pulling, yanking her neck into an awkward position, forcing those fuck-me eyes of hers on mine.

“oh? are you trying to fuckin’ turn me on?” i walk us backward until her back is pressed against a worn brick wall, she gasps, the hold on her knife loosening in her hold when i press my hips into her, letting her feel how fucking hard i am for her. “because it’s working… you feel that? that’s what you do to me, pretty girl.”

a moan slips from her lips and send a jolt of pleasure straight to my throbbing cock. i slap her hand from my chest, her knife clattering onto the ground below again. my eyes dart across her face, dropping down to her pouty lips and then need to kiss her, claim her, takes over.

i dip my head down, claiming her lips with mine in a heated and hungry kiss. she melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping, her legs wrapping around my waist. i force my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. the taste of her mouth on my tongue has my cock throbbing, a bead of precum leaking from my tip. i have to be inside her, now.

i break my lips from hers, “you drive me so goddamn crazy. i need to be inside this sweet fucking pussy, now.”

she smirks, her eyes dark as she opens her mouth to speak. “i know a place, let’s go.”

she unwraps her legs from around me, allowing me to gently place her on her feet. she’s grasping my hand in hers, quickly grabbing her knife off the ground, closing it and shoving it into her back pocket before she’s dragging me across the empty streets. we reach a small, abandoned looking house within a few minutes, and my brow furrows when she begins digging into her pocket, pulling out a key and slipping it into the lock on the door.

once she gets it unlocked and open, she yanks me inside, slamming it shut behind her.

“what is this place?” i ask, my eyes taking in the dark, musty space. it’s pretty cleaned up inside, the floors are kinda rotting and the pain on the walls are chipped, but besides that, it’s not too bad.

she walks me toward a cream colored leather couch, pushing me down onto it and straddling my lap, arms around my neck as she presses her lips against mine again, grinding her clothed pussy against my dick.

“this place, is my little sanctuary. it’s where i come to escape the lavish life you and i both live. it’s also where i bring the girls who think they can talk to you and not be punished for it.”

my eyes widen at the last words, but my cock also throbs. does she really fuckin’ bring the girls i talk to here? what does she do to them? i have so many questions, but they’re all minuscule compared to what’s right in front of me. her lips trail down my jaw and to my neck, her teeth nipping at my skin as she continues to roll her hips against mine.

“fuck, baby. keep that up and i just might cum right now.” i rasp, my hands curling around her waist, pushing her further into me.

she grins, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. i watch with lust-filled eyes as she removes her arms from around my neck, removing her sweatshirt and tossing it to the floor. i suck in a sharp breath, her perfect tits in my face, hard nipples begging to be sucked on, bitten.

i remove one hand from around her waist, cupping her tit in my hand and squeezing. “fuck, they’re more perfect than i imagined they’d be.”

she moans, her tongue darting out to lick up the side of my neck, sending a shudder rushing through me. i massage her breast in my palm, toying with her hard nipple before dipping my head down, sucking her other nipple into my mouth. my teeth sink into the hard flesh, making her whimper and tremble in my lap.

“rafe, stop being such a fucking tease and fuck me.” she demands. i release her nipple with a pop, blowing cool air onto the bud and watching as she shakes.

“so fucking demanding.. i don’t really think you’re in a position to make demands, do you?”

she laughs, but it holds no humor. she’s off my lap in a flash, pulling her knife from her back pocket and flipping it open. i go to stand, but before i can even move a muscle, she has the blade pressed against my throat, something dark coasting across her face as she does. my cock jerks and i lean myself into her, allowing the blade to lightly knick my skin, a small pool of blood trailing down my throat.

“didn’t i tell you? this shit fucking turns me on,” i pause, gripping her wrist in my hand and knocking the blade from her grip. i quickly grab it, placing her own knife against her throat, “now, lick it fucking clean.”

her eyes meet mine, her pupils blown, making her eyes look black from how big they are. she leans in, allowing the blade to lightly knick her own skin before she sticks out her tongue, slowly licking up the trail of blood from my collar bone and up to my jaw. fuck. this girl is going to be my downfall. but i don’t fucking care. she’s mine, and i’m hers.

she wraps her lips around the sensitive flesh of my neck, right where her knife knicked, and she starts sucking, not pulling back until she’s cleaned every last drop of blood and a dark, purple bruise is left. i pull the knife from her neck, letting it drop to the floor and copying her actions. once satisfied with my mark, i claim her lips again, our tongues swirling together, the taste of our blood mixed together making the need for her cloud my mind.

not breaking her lips from mine, she runs her hands down my sides, her fingertips reaching the waistband of my sweats. she digs her fingers into the grey fabric, tugging lightly. i take the hint, lifting myself off the couch, keeping her in place with my hands beneath her ass. her arms go around my neck, and i remove one hand from her ass, pulling my sweats down my legs and allowing my painfully hard cock to spring free. i work at her leggings next, pulling at the fabric so hard it tears from her body. she gasps against my lips, her eyes landing on mine with a “what the fuck” look on her face.

“rafe! i have nothing else to wear when we leave here!”

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll let you wear my hoodie. you’re coming home with me after this anyways.”

she rolls her eyes, slapping her hand against my chest in a playful manner. i slowly place her feet back on the ground, pulling my hoodie up and over my head, tossing it to the ground. her hands fly to my chest, perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin and dragging down.

“goddamn.” i rasp, hissing in a breath from the sting of her pointy nails breaking skin.

she pushes me back into the couch, climbing into my lap, straddling me. she grinds her wet pussy against my length, moaning as she does. she slightly lifts her hips, gripping my cock in one hand and pumping me slowly, making me groan from how fucking good it feels. she lines my swollen head up with her entrance, pressing the tip into her but i quickly stop her, realizing i don’t have a condom.

“wait, i don’t have a-”

she slaps her palm against my face, cutting off my words as she sinks herself down on my cock, filling her pussy to the hilt.

she leans forward, her lips ghosting across mine as she whispers, “i don’t fucking care.”

my eyes roll to the back of my head, a low groan falling from me when she begins rolling her hips. she feels so fucking good, so wet and tight. her pussy walls squeeze against my dick, making it twitch with need.

i grip her wrist, pulling it from my mouth and twisting it behind her back, “such a filthy fucking slut, aren’t you? just had to have me raw, yeah?” i buck my hips upward and she moans, her head falling into the crook of my neck. “god, i bet you fucking get yourself off to the thought of this, huh? my cock buried deep inside this sweet fucking cunt, my cum painting your walls white and leaking down your thighs when i’m done. my perfect fucking slut, aren’t you baby?”

she pills her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to stifle her moans, but i’m not having that. i want to fucking hear her scream for me. i press my thumb on her lower lip, pulling it from between her teeth, “no baby, i wanna fucking hear you. let me hear how good i’m making you feel.”

i grip both her hips, halting her movements. her eyes find mine, and i give her a smirk before i begin thrusting my hips, pounding into her greedy hole like my fucking life depends on it— and at this point, it just might. her moans fill the room, cries of pleasure falling past her lips.

her pussy squeezes around my dick, trying to milk my cock dry. i pull her off me, tossing her onto her back on the couch. her tits bounce from the force and i can’t contain the groan that escapes me. i grip her upper arm, flipping her onto her stomach and slapping her ass, hard. she whines, burying her face into the leather cushions. i slip my hands under her body, lifting her hips so her ass is in the air. my mouth waters from the sight of her glistening cunt, her arousal slowly leaking down her thighs. i grip myself, jerking a few times before slamming myself back into her.

she digs her nails into the couch, screaming out my name when i hit the deepest part of her pussy repeatedly, loving the way her walls contract around me when i do. i lean over her back, wrapping my bicep around her throat and pulling her back flush into my front. i squeeze, taking away her air as i continue to pound my cock inside her.

my dick swells, my thrusts becoming sloppy as she starts to come undone around me. we’ll have to work on that, she’ll only ever be allowed to cum when i tell her she can.

“that’s it, baby. such a good fucking girl, coming all over my cock like the little cock slut you are.”

she tries to speak, but my bicep wrapped tightly around her throat only allows unintelligible sounds out. her body shakes in my hold, and i bury my face in her neck, my teeth biting down hard just as my balls draw tight. i push myself deep inside her one final time, holding myself there as long, slow spurts of my cum fill her cunt.

her nails dig into my forearm, begging me to loosen my hold on her. i finally do, allowing her to fall forward and suck in sharp gasps of air. i slip my softening dick from inside her, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. she whimpers, and i dig my fingers into her hair, lifting her head back up off the couch. i force her neck sideways, placing my lips against hers in a searing kiss. when i finally pull myself from her, i run my nose up the side of her cheek, inhaling her intoxicating scent. my lips ghost across her ear, making her shudder.

“you’re mine now, you got it?” i rasp, nipping at the lobe of her ear.

she chuckles, the sound shooting straight to my dick again.

“and you’re mine, rafe cameron. don’t you fucking forget it. i will kill you if you think you can leave me, and i’ll kill anyone else who thinks she even has a chance.”

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @rafeyscurtainbangs @cherrygirlfriend @redhead1180 @jjsbaby @nemesyaaa

[echobx]

Rafe and reader sharing the bed for the first time 😉🍆😘

author's note: I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this. I hope you like it. (roughly edited only)

word count: 1k

warnings: Ward being a shit father (that's just canon tho), light trauma talk, smut, p in v (unprotected), pull out method

"Will you let me in?" The text Rafe sends you wakes you from the light slumber you fell into just moments before. It was long past midnight but you got up anyway, tying the satin belt of your robe around your middle while making the way downstairs to meet him at the back door. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" you ask him in a hushed voice. "Had another fight with Ward," he replies just as quietly. Rafe never calls his dad what he is, at least not to you. Maybe he's more comfortable to show his true feelings around you, because he knows you wouldn't judge him. "Can I come in now?" he asks and you nod, stepping to the side and closing the door behind him. "You still know where the guest room is, right?" you whisper and he stops to look at you for a moment. "I'd rather not be alone right now." His adam’s apple bops as he looks at you, as if he's close to tears and you nod. "That's okay. Then we'll sleep in my room."

Rafe has been in your room about a million times, and not once has it felt as special as that night. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" you ask while sitting down on your bed, cross-legged and prettier than he could remember. "Just didn't do exactly what he wanted and he flipped. The usual," Rafe shrugs and looks at his feet. "You wanna go and get cleaned up?" you smile and he actually thinks he doesn't deserve you being so gentle with him; never judging or hurtful or anything bad he can think of. You're purely sweet and nice and nothing like what he would ever be able to deserve in a billion years. The hot shower washes away most of his pain, at least the one that sits in his muscles, leaving behind what his father had made of him ever since he was a child. "When you're done you can wear this. I'll put it on the chair," you tell him while putting one of your brother's sweatpants down. Usually when Rafe stayed over your parents were aware of it, he rarely showed up as late as he did just now. You were truly concerned about it though, because the time spans in between these incidents are growing slimmer. You can only imagine what it must be like for him, never having had any real issues with your parents. But not everyone is blessed with a loving family, which is why you try your best to emulate it for Rafe. Give him a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, basically anything he can ask for and you'd see to it. “You're really okay with me sleeping here?” Rafe asks, walking out of your en-suite; hair still wet and dripping and his abs on full display. You gulped and gave him another smile, “one hundred percent.” “Thanks.”

“You know I don't deserve this, right?” Rafe whispers while lying by your side and you turn around to face him. “Who said that?” “I do. He does. Everyone knows it, your parents too. I don't deserve you, not as a best friend, not at all. You're too good to me. And I'm scared I might ruin you.” He voices his fears quietly, almost inaudible with the soft humming of the a/c. “I don't care what they think. You deserve to be treated good, because you are good, Rafe,” you assure him but he doesn't believe it. “You don't know everything. The things I did- You wouldn't like me if you knew,” he shakes his head and you take your hand up and cup his cheek. “How can you know that for sure if you haven't told me? And maybe if you think I would leave once I know, then we have a lot more to work on.” You never intended to play therapist for your best friend, but he needs someone he can trust, and you know he won't trust a professional. But when he tells you about the things he did, what his father made him do at times but more so what he did for his dad to gain any type of gratitude from the man; your heart nearly stops. “He used you. He still does,” you whisper, scooching closer to Rafe and putting your arms around his waist while placing your head on his chest. “He's the one that doesn't deserve you.” Rafe knew he was in love before, but the way you accept him even after he told you all is the nail in his coffin. He will never want anyone the same way he wants you, but he's sure that acting on it would lead to worse things. “Do you really think so?” he asks slowly and you nod against his body. “I know it for a fact. You shouldn't do anything for him any more. Not when he tells you and especially not when he expects it but doesn't say so, because then when it goes badly he'll blame it all on you.” You sound more furious than you intend to, but Rafe is completely enamored by you.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers as you lean your head back into your neck to look up at him. “Why would you want that?” You don't understand it, not because he isn't handsome and literally everything you could dream of. No, you don't get it because he could have anyone, so why would he want you. “Can we make a pact?” Rafe asks with a smile and you nod. “Good. You teach me how to be normal, and I teach you that you are the most desirable woman in the whole world, because I am right,” he speaks softly, his voice laced with desire. “Maybe I can do a deal like that,” you giggle but before you can actually make fun of the idea, your lips are engulfed by his. Soft and warm and strong as he presses himself against you, turning you around to lie under him. “Do you want me to stop?” Rafe asks and you shake your head. He looks even prettier like that. On top of you with a primal desire in his eyes and a loving smile on his lips. Your hands run over his abs and soon after his body is lying on top of you, fully pressing you into the mattress with all of his weight. His hips slowly roll into yours as he tries to pace himself to not hurt you or make too much noise. “So deep,” you moan against his hand that is placed on your mouth. “You're doing so good for me, baby,” Rafe praises you, pulling your legs up to close behind his back so he can hit even deeper, which you hadn't even thought possible. “Gonna cum,” you threaten and he smirks, bringing a hand down to your clit and rubbing harsh circles until you clamp down around his cock. “That's it, baby. Soak me, pretty,” he pants and as soon as you finish he pulls out and cums all over your stomach. “Guess we have to take another shower now,” you giggle and he pulls you into another kiss, toe curling and maybe you can accept that you aren't that bad. Maybe he was right, after all he had chosen you and not anybody else, and you would keep choosing him too if he let you.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @itsme-again @hoe4sunarin

[ipegchangbin]

I HHAVE TO SO MUCH BOY PUSSY THOUGHTS BUT LIKE IM SHAKING AND ESOC DHD OGMGG right but what are you thoughts on fem!skz???? uz the brainrot has been getting to me and i personally believe there just arent ENOUGH fem!skz like whaat happened to the pussy? the cunt? THE PUM PUM

sorry. i loved your drabble though and just your work in general and im not kidding when i say that wehn i saw you actually answered my request and then saw said request on my dashboard thingy I LITERALLY PUT MY HANDS UP IN THE AIR AND WAS YAYAYAYAYA!?!?!?!

URE RIGHT LIKEEE WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PUMPUMHDSJJDJSNS

💗 nsfw fem!skz thoughts

🏷️ fem!skz, gn!reader, smut smut smut

— bang chan

chan’s beautiful, bubbly, a little busty with a big butt. she’s everything you would want in a girl: a giggly lady with a pretty body. she’s very preppy, a little clingy once you two get together, but in bed? she’s a blushing mess! she loves when you chat her up only to talk her down, let her babble several flavors of nonsense and moan with that sweet curly accent of hers. her dimples show every time she clenches her jaw in pleasure. chan loves getting herself off on your fingers, riding them, even just grinding on them through her clothed cunt…and she loves when you make her feel a little dirty about it. her butt is the plumpest, it feels good to grope and massage, and best of all — it gets red when she blushes! chan is a giggly girl who’s heavenly to play with.

— minho

a competitive peer turned blunt best friend turned snappy girlfriend, minho’s the prettiest yet sharpest lady you’ve ever come across. she loves keeping things traditional, making you court her to even get a glimpse of her reciprocated love, but when she fell back for you it was all worth it. minho loves to keep half of her long hair up in a bun while the rest flows down past her shoulders, framing her beautiful body against the kitchen counters as she whips you up your favorite meal. a few hours after dinner, you have her over the same counter, fucking her cunt well. she loves to moan your name and make you feel how much she loves you. she gets wet so easily when you moan back, when you tell her you adore her. you figure that she tastes better than her own cooking.

— changbin

what’s not to love about changbin? she was love at first sight turned the love of your life. you fell for the way she looked with her love handles, tummy, and big breasts, and as soon as she spoke to you, it was all real. she’s gentle and kind, offering to help you with whatever work you need. changbin gets very shy when you abandon your work and grab her by the hips and breasts instead. she wears her curly hair long and down and the curtains match the drapes: she has the bush of a lifetime. secretly loves it whenever you’re between her thighs or all up in her cleavage smelling her after her workouts, all before going to town and fucking her ever so sweetly. she’s a muscle mommy who calls you mommy. oh, and changbin in an evening dress—the ones that hug her form, accentuating her belly and toned ass—is a sight to see. she’s absolutely obsessed with lovemaking after her shower. a clean and fresh woman, she’ll take every bit of your body worship before your dates to heart.

— hyunjin

she’s the classiest lady you’ve ever met. always does herself up, wears the prettiest makeup, and always fixes her hair in the middle of your dates. she smells heavenly; it’s french cologne mixed with a bit of your after-sex musk. hyunjin always finds herself getting fucked every time she’s with you, and you don’t know if it’s her irresistible energy or the fact that she’s needier than you. and when the dates reach past midnight, she only becomes cinderella in a way that she takes you home with her, designer clothes to the floor, revealing even more expensive lingerie underneath. class, elegance, all that demure shit flies out of the window as soon as you’re working your mouth on her petite boobs. when it’s all done, she glows in your arms and embraces you, kissing you all over with sweet words between her lips. she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.

— han jisung

han’s a charming woman who’s a bit of a geek. she’s a self-deemed loser, but so incredibly far from the doozy girl she claims to be. you don’t mind her armpit hair, her layered cut, and the leg hair she never wants to shave: she’s charming and attractive for that. firmly believes in having her nips out and it’s so cute of her. jisung is very carefree, and it extends to the sex too. she secretly likes it when you cuddle yet feel her up. she loves it when you sneak your hand under your shorts. she loves it when you’re being nonchalant and casual, eating her out while she’s watching a movie, moaning and whining slightly while all dazed. you hum and call her beautiful, the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, and it does something to her. maybe she’s a bit of a perverted girl too, getting off on your compliments when you’re gone and out of her room.

— felix

a girl’s girl through and through. she loves you very much but there are many reasons why you love her more. she has everything on her: need chapstick? it’s either she pulls one out of her magic tote bag — or she kisses you! need a pen? she’ll even write for you! need to eat her out? she’ll spread her legs before you even blink! she’s always happy and smiley even if you’re playing with her freckled pussy. you tell her that she’s pretty when she smiles, making her grin even more. felix always has her hair done in different crazy styles, but always up whenever she wants to return the favor on you. adores you whenever you catch her out of breath from your fingers and mouth alone. you always kiss every one of her freckles, even the ones near her clit to tease her — and every single time, she falls harder and harder in love with you.

— seungmin

if there was any lady who matched you best, she’d be seungmin. she’s blunt with her words but she means well whenever she talks to you. it was a surprise the first time she asked for sex, simply letting honesty take over and let her know that she wanted you. loves talking you up even if you’re going down on her. she never shaves nor trims her bush, and you find her smirk so attractive every time you find her clit. all that snarky attitude dissolves as soon as you kiss further into her clit, teasing her ass and playing with the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. she’s kind of obsessed with the way you show her own cum in your mouth. gets even more delirious when you tug on her short hair and tell her dirty compliments. she feels the most like a woman when you work your way with her — just make sure to take her out on a date and pay the bill right after.

— jeongin

jeongin’s a lady who never backs down from an adventure. from exploring the outdoors to exploring each other’s bodies, she’s an open woman who doesn’t hesitate to love you right. she’s wild in many senses: you’ve fucked while alone in public once. it’s her spirit that charms you most, you think as you pound into her ass — her request. she’s sweet and very talkative, telling you all about the kinky shit she wants to do the later in night while curling her hair for work. jeongin loves being pampered and pampering you back. she wears your favorite sets of lingerie, or if you prefer it, wears nothing at all when you get home to her. she gets deliciously needy every time you play with her nipples out of nowhere. but even after all the adventures, her cunt might as well be your home.

[issi-loves-dannyric]

You Belong With Me- Ollie Bearman

a/n: I'm a year older than Ollie so that's why I wrote it. One day this will be taken down as will all my other writings but at least not for a while. (personal choice cause yk work and everything) -Im tagging this as F1 since he's signed to Haas.

Summary: best friends to lovers, Ollie is too dumb to realize he's in love

angst ish with fluff

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

“She’s coming to a race” excitedly says to me while we walk in the paddock. 

“That's great!” I say faking enthusiasm, if he weren’t distracted by the girl he’s talking to he would’ve caught that I wasn’t happy. 

“I think I’m going to ask her out on a real date” he adds making my heart hurt a little more. 

“Yeah, that’s great. Hey, I’m going to go see some friends.” I say turning towards where Paul was standing on his phone. 

“Yeah-“ he says but is cut off by another message. Rolling my eyes I make my way towards the blonde. Feeling my presence coming up to him he looks up from his phone smiling. 

“Don’t see much of you without Ollie” he says smirking and opens his arms for a hug which I accept immediately. 

“Yeah he wouldn’t shut up about the girl he’s talking to  so figured might as well see some friends”

“Oh yeah, he talks about her all the time. I’ve met her before and she’s kinda…” he trails off

“A bitch”

“I didn’t say it but I’m not disagreeing” putting his hands up in defense. 

“No yeah, she definitely is a bitch and doesn’t like me.”

“Probably cause you and Ollie have a history” 

“He’s my best friend, of course, there’s history”

“Yeah…” before he could add anything Kimi and Dino were joining us making Paul drop the topic. 

2 months later

I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night-

“Ollie, what are you doing” I call out my window looking down at the boy who had spammed me to open my window. 

“I’ve barely heard from you for the past 2 months” he replies looking hurt. 

“Yeah…sorry” the last part being quiet.

“Are we going to talk like this or are you going to let me in?” He asks, sighing I push myself away going down to let him in quietly as possible. 

“Ollie it’s midnight” I whisper as we go towards my room door, allowing him to walk in before me to shut it. 

“I know but since when did it matter?” He replies lowly with a small tentative smile. 

“Since it’s been months from the last time you came over late or even had a full conversation,” I reply turning away, sitting on my bed. 

“Yeah” I could just barely hear, “just…I don’t know” he sighed staring at his feet. Looking at his face he’s trying to figure out what to say or do. 

“Something’s wrong” I state, patting the bed, “come here” making him look up at me. 

“I think she’s cheating on me, she’s just so different from me” he sighs referring to his girlfriend who has hated me for a while now. 

“Do you have proof?” I ask, although we don’t get along, she doesn’t deserve to be accused of something she didn’t do. 

“Kind of, I guess. Just she’s messaging her ex still, I think she went out with him today. Well, I know she did because of the photos.”

“Damn Ollie, that sucks,” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. “Are you going to do something about it?” I question 

“I’m going to confront her and see where it goes.” 

“Smart move” I replied looking up at him who was still avoiding eye contact. “Is there more?” Watching him fidget with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry for not being around” he quietly voice breaking a little. 

“It's fine, you were busy with your new life.” I reply not meaning to be petty but he did ghost me, his “best friend”. He finally looked up at me with glossy eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m proud of you no matter what” smiling softly at him even with my own eyes feeling pricks of tears. Reaching out to his face I wipe his tears away with the hoodie holding his cheeks. Putting his hand on mine, keeping me from letting go of him, “I don’t want to lose you, I feel like I already did” sobbed holding my hand even tighter. Moving my hand to him, leaning on the pillow behind me. 

I’m the one that makes you laugh when you know you’re 'bout to cry. 

“I’m not leaving, at least not all the way” feeling him hold onto me even tighter, “I’ll always support you, Ollie. You can always text or call me if you need to.” I tell him while running my fingers through his hair, feeling my tears sliding down my face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Bearman,” I say trying to lighten the mood, earning a small chuckle from him. Pulling out of my hold, wiping his tears, “I should probably go before my parents realize I'm not there” He says getting up towards the door. 

“Yeah, I’ll lock the door behind you so mine don’t think I just left the house open for robbers,” I say with a small smile. 

“I mean it, you can text or call me anytime, you know I will try my best to answer.” I remind him at the door. 

“I‘ll remember,” he says pulling me into one last tight hug. 

All this time how could you not know

Looking down at my phone I just got a notification,

Ollie: I was right, she just admitted it and didn’t think she was wrong since I travel. 

Sighing I respond 

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ollie. At least you found out now.’ 

Going back to whatever movie was playing on the living room TV. My parents are off on a date meaning I get to have the house to myself, although it’s not as fun as it seems when you’re alone. My phone's insistent vibration distracts me, realizing that a call vibration I pick it up not glancing at the caller. 

“Hello”

“Hey…” Ollie’s voice comes through barely, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore really. I just miss you so much and this situation made me realize something.” He quickly lets out. 

“Ollie I never said I didn’t want to be in your life at all.” I reason

“Are you home?” He says sniffling. 

“Yeah, parents are out” 

“I need to come over” 

“Okay,” I reply quietly before hanging up.  

You belong with me. Have you ever thought, just maybe you belong with me?

Ollie's knocks were loud and fast making me get out faster walking to the door. The second I open the door, he puts his hand on my cheeks. 

“I want to kiss you” he mumbles leaning down slightly from the height difference. “Can I?” He breaths out 

“Yeah,” I say feeling heat on my cheeks now but quickly distracted by his lips on mine. Kissing him back I put my hands on the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Letting go realizing he’s rebounding, “What was that, Ollie?” I ask genuinely confused. 

“I’m sorry, I love you and it took that relationship for me to realize it.” 

“Still confused” 

“She said the reason she didn’t see the issue of her cheating was because I was in love with you the whole time. I thought she was crazy until I realized I compared her to you. Like the things you knew I liked or how you went out of your way to make me happy.” He paused putting one hand on my cheek again forcing me to look him in the eyes, “She’s right, I do love you more than just my best friend.” He finishes 

“Ollie” I whisper shocked by what he explained to me. 

“Please just give me a chance” he replied 

“I can’t be your rebound, Ollie. My feelings for you are real and I don’t want to be hurt.” I warn him. 

“You’re not a rebound I promise,” he says seriously. 

“Okay,” I reply causing him to smile slightly. 

“Okay?” 

“Prove you will try, Ollie,” I tell him, he lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his lips to mine. Accepting the kiss quickly but I pull away making him confused. “As much as I would like to kiss you in my front doorway so my whole neighborhood could see. I also have a movie playing so are you coming in or what?” I tell him, smiling widely, he accepts my invitation following me to sit on the couch. Curling up into him like we used to do, this time there’s no feeling of confusion about whether he likes me or not. 

You belong with me

“You know you’ve watched this hundreds of times.” He states referring to Coraline playing. 

“Yeah, and I’ll watch it a hundred more times.” I smile looking up at him. Pulling my face closer he started to kiss me again, this time I didn’t stop it, or at least for a moment until realizing I could hear my parents coming in through the garage. Letting go I shift to have my head on his chest with my right arm wrapped around his stomach. 

“Hey Ollie” they calmly say walking by us before going towards the stairs, “Oh hey try not to kiss in front of the whole neighborhood next time.” Before going up. Making me giggle remembering the cameras that watch the front door. 

“I forgot about the cameras,” he says embarrassed. 

“Yeah…me too” I added. 

[bunnylovesani]

A Birthday Affair 2

Summary: Past midnight is when the real birthday celebrations start and the best gift you could’ve asked for is to get stuffed. Full of cake, of course. You just better hope Padme doesn’t wake up.

Content warnings: P in V sex, oral sex, cheating, generally immoral activity lmao

WC: 3.2k

“Would you stop whining about it already? Give me a fucking minute to put on my shoes and I’ll get you the stupid replacement.” Anakin yells in Padme’s direction, on his way to buy you another birthday cake after the last one went up in flames.

“It’s not for me, it’s for her!” She points at you and Anakin sighs, giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah well, she doesn’t seem to be half as fussed about it as you are.” He grabs the keys by the door and throws on a navy blue baseball cap. “Be back in twenty.” He seems to say only to you and the act of defiance doesn’t go unnoticed by Padme.

“God, what a jerk. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately but he seems to be even more unbearable than usual.” She steps out onto the terrace of your shared apartment and you follow her. “You spend every day with us, tell me- has he said anything to you? You know, about us?”

You shuffle on your feet nervously and let out a huff. “No, nothing.” You decide to keep your lies simple and easy to follow.

“That’s even worse!” She whines. “He doesn’t mention me at all?”

“I didn’t say that.” You deflected nervously.

“So he does talk about me?” Noticing your hesitance, she puts her hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Relax, you can tell me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I’d never get mad at you for telling me the truth.”

“I got something that’d test that theory.” You think as you scratch the back of your head.

“Look Padme, I don’t know what to tell you- I mean he doesn’t talk badly about you, but he doesn’t mention you all that much either.”

She pauses for a moment and takes a step back, observing you closely.

“So what do you guys talk about then?” She shoots you a scrutinising glare.

“W-what?” You kick yourself for how suspicious you’re coming across.

“You heard me. We’ve been roommates for a good couple of months now.” She paces up and down the terrace. “When I’m at work and you two are alone, what do you talk about?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. Nothing special.” You reply honestly. Up until this evening, you hadn’t crossed any boundaries with Anakin- unless you count your fantasies. In which case you’d crossed them multiple times in multiple different positions.

She looks at you with narrowed eyes, processing your response for a moment before she releases a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been feeling a little paranoid recently.” She slumps down onto a plump deck chair and breathes in the cold night air. “He seems distant, like he’s not really here with me, you know?” You take a seat beside her, not sure whether it would be more morally reprehensible to comfort her or to change the subject.

“I don’t know Padme, it’s between you guys- I don’t wanna get involved.” You hear the irony in your words as soon as they leave your lips.

“Of course, ‘m sorry for being such a downer- and on the eve of your birthday too! I’m gonna throw you the biggest rager tomorrow, I’ve invited so many cute guys - just for you.” She rambles excitedly and you bite your lip in guilt.

A short while later, Anakin comes home to a very lukewarm reception from Padme, who complains that the cake he bought isn’t good enough- it wasn’t the right size, the right flavour or the right colour. You thought it was perfectly fine.

After a brief but heated argument, Padme decides to call it a night and retreats into her bedroom down the hall.

“I’m sorry about her.” Anakin whispers, treading lightly over to you. “She’s acting even more insufferable than I’m used to.”

“Funny, she said the same thing about you earlier.” You smile, knees feeling weak when he returns it with his own twinkling grin.

“I can’t wait until it’s you I get to go to bed with, not her.” He speaks softly, reaching up to brush his knuckles against your cheek.

“Me neither, but we can’t do things like that anymore. Not until you deal with Padme.” You vowed, looking over his shoulder.

“I know, I know, I’ll deal with that soon-“

“Anakin! Come to bed!” Padme interjects with a high-pitched and entirely repellant screech.

He rolls his eyes so far back into his head you wonder if they’ll ever come out again.

“I’m coming!” He yells, throwing his arms into the air with a measure of agitation you’d never seen before.

“I gotta go, angel. I’ll see you in the morning yeah? My pretty birthday girl.” He grabs your chin lightly before planting a peck on your forehead and retreating into the bedroom with an indignant sigh.

You stayed up for a little while longer, deciding to tidy the mess of pillows and plushies strewn along your bed. As you readjusted your teddies, you let out a dreamy moan at the memory of your romp earlier this evening. You snake your hand between your thighs as you sit down, feeling deliciously sore- head spinning with the reminder of how right it felt to have him buried inside you. Only being granted the pleasure of having him once wasn’t anywhere near enough- you felt like you were going through withdrawal, unable to form a single thought that wasn’t about him.

Resigning yourself to a long sleepless night, you slipped your most expensive silk nightie on and crawled under the covers. Glancing over to the clock on your nightstand, you saw that it was 1 minute past midnight- officially your birthday. You wondered if Ani got you anything nice, focusing on hypothetical presents rather than allowing your guilty conscience to creep in.

Speaking of creeping in, you hear the door knob squeak with a careful twist and a festive pyjama-clad Anakin enters your room.

“Ani! What are you doing here?” You whisper, motioning to securely close the door shut.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait- just had to come see you. Happy birthday, baby.” He hands you a charming white gift box wrapped tightly in a pink silk bow, his large palm making it look tiny.

“Can I join you for a minute?” He gestures towards your bed and you’re torn.

“Oh Ani, you shouldn’t have. I-I don’t know, what if she catches us?” You try to reason but your attention has been stolen by the pretty box, which you eagerly pluck out of his hand.

“She’s out cold.” He perches at the foot of your bed. “You hear that? Sounds like a grizzly bear operating a chainsaw.”

You giggle at his words and peel back your covers, inviting him to lay beside you.

“Or a congested walrus.” You add.

“Driving a bulldozer.”

“Well now you’re just exaggerating.” You laugh into your pillow while Anakin shushes you, playfully hitting you with your teddy.

Clutching the box as you untie the delicate ribbon, you pull out a polished gold necklace with a satiny heart pendant- engraved with the letter A.

“Ani, I love it! But-“

“I bought this a week ago.” He interrupts. “My heart belonged to you long before you gave me your body. I want you to wear it and the next time I see Padme, I’ll tell her everything.”

“Really? The next time?” You ask incredulously. You’d expected this to drag on for a lot longer.

“First thing in the morning, angel.” He reassured you soothingly and you melted into his arms.

“Okay, help me put it on.” You tittered excitedly as he clipped the necklace in place, the delicate pendant lingering over your collarbones.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.” You held it in your hand and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away slightly, you darted between his dreamy eyes and his parted mouth, trying to resist temptation.

Before you could give in first, Anakin gripped your jaw with his hands, pulling you in impossibly close to kiss you deeply. You sucked on his tongue, moaning at the subtle taste of vanilla cake frosting and minty toothpaste.

“No, wait. We shouldn’t.” You proclaim breathily, though you know your empty words were nothing but a pitiful attempt at making you feel like you’d at least tried to abstain.

“Then why does it feel so right?” He silences you by pressing his lips against yours once more, all resistance fading away under his gentle touch.

You squirm under his weight as he climbs on top of you, kissing and sucking his way down to your thighs, which he pins open until the sides of your knees are lying firmly against the bed.

“Can I taste you, sweetheart?” He asks in a hushed tone, rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.

You nod in response, hoping that on some level not speaking would make this whole thing less sinful. Anakin doesn’t press you for a verbal response, taking no time at all before he pulls your panties off and delves his tongue into your pussy. Your hand flies over your mouth as you slip out a breathy moan, the warm feeling of his mouth enveloping your clit overwhelming you. His nails dig into your fleshy hips and his grip around your thighs strengthens- swollen veins protruding through his forearms as the adrenaline courses through his blood.

You whimper into your heart-shaped pillow, gnawing at the frills as you feel the tip of Ani’s tongue working circles into your sensitive bud.

“You taste so good, baby.” He raises his head and you take in the sight before you: lips parted, wetness dribbling down his mouth and half-lidded eyes glaring at you lustily. “I can’t wait angel, ‘m sorry.” He mumbles, getting on his knees and dragging you down by the legs. He doesn’t bother removing his plaid pyjama bottoms, simply pulling them down and letting his cock spring up over the waistband, achingly hard. You can practically see it throbbing, the tip a glistening dark pink.

“Can I? Please, baby.” He whines, rubbing his tip along your soaked folds. You nod once again but he seems unsatisfied.

“Talk.” He demands simply. “It still counts as fucking even if you didn’t say a word.”

You frown at him, not appreciating how he just burst your bubble.

“Fine.” You huff and he raises an eyebrow.

“Are you giving me attitude?” He comes closer, tip kissing your entrance. “‘cus now would be the wrong time to do that.” He hisses and slides right in, filling you up all at once and giving you no time to adjust to his size. You mewl and writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as he puts all his body weight on you and covers his hand firmly over your mouth.

“Do you want her to hear us? Shut up and take it.” He spits venomously as he gives you deep and slow thrusts, his cock reaching all the way up to your guts. You moan helplessly as he holds you in a near headlock, silenced with his strong arms and legs pinned wide open to make way for him. Your legs tremble as your pussy greedily accepts his length, squeezing it with its plush walls.

“Slutty little pussy, ’s gripping me so tight.” He grins against your neck. You’re not sure what it was about sex that brought out such a dominant and mean side to Anakin- but you weren’t complaining. The sound of arousal filled the room, your wet slickness gushing against him as his balls slapped against your ass. Hearing the lewd sounds, he slowed down a little, cautiously guiding his cock into you in such a way that would elicit the least amount of noise.

Just as you fell into an entrancingly good rhythm, a knock was heard at the door.

“Hey, you sleeping? Anakin’s gone somewhere.” Padme’s sleepy voice reverberates through the door.

You look to Anakin for guidance with an expression of panic but he looks completely calm- doing nothing besides slowly removing his hand away from your mouth, still sheathed in you. You consider not replying and pretending you’re asleep but quickly realise the light of the lamp shining under your doorway is a dead giveaway.

“Um, I’ve just gone to sleep now.” You answered with bated breath, wondering why Anakin hadn’t pulled out yet. “Has he really? Dunno where he could’ve gone.”

As if this exchange wasn’t challenging enough, Anakin begins fucking into you again, a wild smirk plastered on his face as he thrusts in and out.

“Ugh can I come in?” She whines, no doubt wanting to rant about her failing relationship. The hunk on top of you reaches down and starts rubbing your clit, staring into you with great amusement as you unsuccessfully attempt to bat him off.

“Uh- um, no Padme I’m sleeping, ah we’ll talk tomorrow!” You tremble, hoping your words didn’t come out too shaky.

“What are you doing in there? Are you okay?” Suddenly the door swings wide open and Padme walks in on the sight of her boyfriend on top of her best friend. You only catch a glimpse of her face for a moment- a screwed up expression of horror and disgust- before she turns around and reaches for the vase on top of your chest of drawers. Anticipating her reaction, Anakin towers over you protectively as Padme hurls the glass vase in your direction- the water spraying over you both as it flies over the bed, smashing into a million tiny pieces against the wall.

“You fucking whore!” She screams. “And you! You jerk! How could you fuck my best friend?!” Anakin throws an unphased glance her way for a moment before turning his gaze towards you, brushing his hand against your face gently and locking your lips in a soft kiss. The look of adoration he gives you, ignoring Padme completely, reassures you that you are the only one worth his attention.

“Oh, I’m gonna be fucking sick.” She splutters as she walks out of the room, slamming the door shut and mumbling curses to herself.

“Ani, get off! I need to go talk to-“

“You don’t need to do anything other than be in this moment right now, with me.” He pins you down by the wrists and glares at you, pushing in until the very base of his cock is flush against you. You want to fight him, to get up and chase after your friend but the pleasure has made your legs numb.

“You can leave when I’ve made you cum.” He rasps, resuming his heavy thrusts and you can’t do anything other than cry out his name- no point being quiet now that she knows, right?

“That’s it baby, let everyone know who you belong to.” He moans, brows upturning and mouth parted. He looked so pretty like this, damp curls brushing against his forehead and plump lips formed into an inviting o shape. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your throat ran dry as you felt the tip of his smooth cock gliding roughly against that spot that drove you crazy.

“Fuck Ani, ‘m gonna -“ The words flew out your mouth as your release took you by surprise, seizing your whole body in ecstasy and eliciting a torrent of guttural moans from your pretty lips. He buried his face into your chest, groaning against your bare tits as he joined you in cumming, painting your walls with his seed.

Ani was nothing if not a man of his word- so he rolled off you straight after, freeing you to leave.

“I would advise against what you’re about to do.” He speaks calmly, covering his lower half in your sheets and stretching his toned arms out before placing them beneath his head.

You ignore his comment, throwing on a bathrobe and leaving the room to see Padme- furiously stuffing articles of clothing into various bags. A nauseating fear overcomes you when you realise you have nothing to say to her.

“Don’t.” She snaps, noticing your lingering presence. “Don’t even come near me. You are dead to me.” You twiddle your thumbs standing in the doorway of her room, not sure what you were expecting.

“I’m sorry Padme, I really am. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You mumble, barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t mean to slip and fall on his cock?” She has angry tears pouring frantically down her round face. “That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that happens by accident.

“I meant I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You clarify gently.

“Well, you did. Oh my God, I can see his cum pouring down your leg.” She points in disgust and you cross your legs. “Is that what I saw earlier? I thought you spilt water or something, God I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not, this is all-“

“You’re right. This is all your fault, you dumb fucking slut. You’re nothing but a brainless whore.”

“That’s enough.” Anakin emerges, dressed in nothing but his boxers, a thin veil of glowing sweat coating his toned abdomen. “This was all my fault. If you have anything to say, you say it to me.” You cower behind him, thankful for his protective presence.

“Oh, I have plenty to say.” She barges past you both, carrying her bags out into the hallway. “A year’s relationship thrown away for a quick fuck. With that skank.”

“Don’t call her that.” He gruffly responds and you can’t help but think he’s being harsh.

“Spare me. What are you, her guard dog?” She scoffs, tears dried and replaced with a scornful bitterness. “You’re going to regret this. When the novelty wears off and you realise she means nothing to you, you’re going to come crawling back.”

“That’s highly unlikely.” He looks unperturbed, amused even - strangely nonchalant over the dramatic events unfurling before him.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” She jibes, throwing her coat on and getting ready to launch another venomous attack your way when she’s interrupted.

“I love her.” Anakin states simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You what?” Padme stops dead in her tracks, looking aghast.

“You what?” You parrot softly and he turns to face you, tenderly taking your face into his gentle hands.

“I love you.” He repeats, not an ounce of shame or regret in his words.

“I-I love you too, Ani.” You grab onto his wrists and gaze into his eyes with an adoring vulnerability.

“Rot in hell, you crazy motherfuckers.” Padme peels her eyes off the appalling sight before her, grabbing her bags and leaving the apartment with a thunderous slam of the bolted door.

You watch her leave with a troubled countenance painted across your face- but Ani never takes his eyes off you.

“I guess it’s just us now.” He smiles peacefully and you feel all your worries melt away.

“I guess it is.” You smile back, wrapping your arms around his strong neck and joining your lips in a passionate, cathartic kiss.

It’s not that you didn’t like Padme, nor that you were the kind of woman to choose a man over her friends. It was just him. You couldn’t help it- from this day forward you knew you would always pick Ani over anything else in this universe. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was your soulmate.

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327

Part 1 here

[star-girl69]

Guilty Pleasure

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: after weeks full of stress and homework, all you want to do is have a nice evening with your girlfriend. but it’s hard to let yourself do that when she’s working herself to death to prepare for hockey championships.

a/n: wow i’m a genius… based off of this ask!! i hope you all enjoy!! STREAM TOUGH BY LANA AND QUAVO‼️‼️‼️

a few notes:

shoutout to my wonderful sister wife @lovinpelova read her kk fic it’s amazing ILY AND OUR WIFE 🫶

and rip to laila’s ability to go live 💔💔

Guilty Pleasure - Chappell Roan

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, i don’t know anything about college please spare me, college scares me, i’m scared, anyways, texting if that triggers y’all, the tiniest bit of angst, y/n is kinda like insecure and all self deprecating LOL, umm a little bit of kissing, hurt/comfort!!!!!!!! kinda!!!!, swearing, ending sucks so bad, this sucks, whatever, i think that’s all let me know if i missed anything!!

—-

“Y/N,” your roommate groans into the stillness of your room. Besides for the natural humming of the building, it’s midnight, a school night, and the dorms are mostly silent. “Y/N, please. Turn off the lights and go to bed. You can’t keep studying, babe.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, standing up from your desk and flicking the light switch on the wall. You hear your roommate, Jackie, let out a sigh of relief.

Immediately, you sit back down, flipping the desk lamp on.

“Ugh, no, babe. That’s not what I meant- you need to sleep.”

“I have to study.”

Jackie had it so easy- you’ve never seen her study for any test, ever, yet she always comes back with 90’s on whatever assignment it is. Not you. No, you work your ass off and get an 80- if you’re lucky.

“You’ve been studying all weekend,” she groans. “You can’t do anything about it now, trust me. Whatever happens, happens. All you can do now is sleep.”

You’re silent, trying to cram just a few more vocab words into your head.

“Y/N, please!”

A pillow hits your head.

“Bitch!” You yell, glaring at her. Maybe you did really think she would be smiling at you, but she’s not. She’s looking at you with real concern in her eyes.

“Babe. I can see the dark circles under your eyes from here.”

And if you’re honest, the words on the pages are starting to blur, you can’t process anything- you know she’s right. You’re not helping yourself at this point, but you’re too scared to just give up and go to bed. What if you stay up for one more minute and it completely saves your ass tomorrow?

“Maybe you should call KK?” Jackie says, tentatively, but you’re not even looking at her anymore. “I won’t even complain that you’re whispering.”

“She’s probably asleep,” you mutter. “She texted me today, they had a really hard practice.”

“Yeah, but she’ll answer if you call. We both know she will.”

“No, I’m not bothering her. I’ll go to bed, okay?”

You meet Jackie’s eyes, and she looks you up and down.

“Okay.”

But she doesn’t settle, not when you’ve flicked the light off. You can see her when your eyes adjust, she doesn’t lay down until she sees you in bed, covers pulled up to your chin.

It’s only when you finally firmly squeeze your eyes shut that you hear the rustling of her settling into bed.

“Goodnight,” she murmurs, concern in her voice.

“Goodnight,” you say back.

She’s right. She’s completely right about everything.

She’s close with KK and the rest of the team you’ve come to known like family just like you. KK would answer you. She always has notifications turned on for you and you for her.

And there’s nothing else you can do about this test tomorrow, you’re confident you’ll at least pass it, but since you’re not doing any sports like almost everyone else at this school, you feel like you should at least have better grades. But you just… don’t.

As you wrap your arms around yourself in the darkness, hoping Jackie’s eyes are closed and she can’t see you, all you can do is think about Caroline.

—-

hockey queen: r u still coming over??

you: yes ofc do u hate me and want me to die????

hockey queen: no ily ❤️

you: ilyt i’m getting food tn btw

hockey queen: ok babe wtvr u want 😍

After days of turning down every invitation to go out, after forcing yourself to stay home and feeling Jackie’s disapproving eyes on you every time you stayed up late- your last class of the week had finished.

It was Friday afternoon, the sky starting to turn a pretty grey that let you know rain was coming. This entire week had felt like a battle in the long war that was college, and you desperately needed a night in with a movie and some takeout to replenish yourself for the next week-long battle.

And you needed that night to be with Caroline. Desperately. Even though you knew she was working herself just as hard, with your workload and her busy hockey schedule these Friday nights were sacred, and weekly.

No one ever skipped a Friday night.

Even when you were under the weather with the most horrible headache you’ve ever been plagued with, Caroline still came over and rubbed you temples, talked to you to distract you in a soft voice and let you drool on her when you finally did fall asleep.

Even when Caroline was so exhausted from a hard practice, and all she had the strength to do was brush her teeth and change into sweats, you let her pass out on top of you and stayed put the rest of the night, rubbing her back, just to make sure she got her rest.

With championships coming up, you’re sure tonight will be another night in which KK is barely functioning, but as long as she’s just there, tangible, you’ll be fine.

That’s what you tell yourself, even as you walk across campus, letting your mind guiltily wander to you just finally stopping for one second, slowing down and confiding in her how fucking exhausted you were.

The rational part of you knew she would understand. But the insecure, childish part of you that was scared you’ll be seen as too needy, too much, overpowered everything else.

You needed whatever bit of Caroline she would give you.

You sighed, kicking a stick on the concrete path away at a particularly vivid fantasy of you absolutely sobbing in her arms. And it’s not like you haven’t cried in front of her before- what scared you about this guilty fantasy was how good it felt, even in this daydream, to let her in.

She works so hard. You can’t dump yourself onto her either.

—-

jacked 💪: do i have the dorm to myself tn??

you: yes 🤗

jacked 💪: inviting sexy boy from econ over

you: use protection ily

jacked 💪: BITCH ilyt

KK and Laila had the cutest apartment that wasn’t too far away, with a really pretty view out onto a street with lots of lights that almost made it feel like new york city.

Unfortunately, the rest of the apartment really did feel like the apartment of two college girls. There was perpetually dishes in the sink, the weirdest posters and inside jokes plastered onto the walls- you didn’t even try to understand them.

Laila likes to joke that she knows when it’s time to clean based on how bad your reaction is when you walk in. She decides they can go a few more days without cleaning. You roll your eyes, eating your takeout at the counter while you wait for your girlfriend to get out of the shower.

When she finally does emerge from her room, her slightly curly hair in its prettiest slightly wet form, dressed in comfy clothes- something immediately squeezes inside of your chest.

Maybe it’s your heart. Or maybe it’s a physical manifesting of nerves and guilt in that’s made its home in your chest. Whatever.

You can see the tiredness on her face when she walks over to where you sit, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek.

You ignore Lalia’s exaggerated gag.

“Come with me,” KK murmurs into your ear, and you don’t need to be told twice, stuffing your keys into your pocket and following her.

“Don’t be too loud!” Laila shouts after you, looking into the fridge to find a snack- you all know that fridge is in desperate need of a restock and a deep clean- “There are other people in this apartment, okay?”

“Shut up!” KK responds, holding onto your arm tightly and shutting the door behind you.

—-

After putting on some random movie from Netflix in the background, you were all too happy to throw yourself onto KK’s comfy bed, smiling when she let out an exaggerated groan, collapsing face down next to you.

“Aw, hard practice?” You fake cooed, and she nodded into her pillows. You played with a damp curl, twisting it between your fingers.

“So many bag skates,” she moaned. “I lost count. I swear I almost died. I saw the gates of Heaven.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yes,” she muttered in agreement, grabbing your hand playing with her hair and pressing it up against her face so she could trap you between her face and the pillow. “Everything hurts.”

The only light came from the flickering movie, and you could barely even hear it as you stared at her face. You press a kiss to her cheek and she smiles, and you sit up even as your own exhausted body screams at you.

She frowns when you take your hand away from her face, but doesn’t seem as bothered anymore when you straddle her legs and softly start to massage her shoulders.

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes falling shut. “Oh, my God, you could become a masseuse.”

You laugh, relishing in how intimate this moment feels, holding onto the feeling in your chest that erupted when she said “I love you” it’s not possible to feel guilt in this moment, shrouded in a haze that might be because of your droopy eyes but you tell yourself it’s because you love this girl so much.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” Caroline says after a second.

“I know,” you say after a long moment. Thinking of those long nights when you wanted to be selfish so bad. When you wanted her all to yourself. “Sorry. I’ve had, like, a lot of homework lately and stuff.”

“But the worst is over now?”

You heart squeezes at the hopeful edge to her tone.

It’s hard to find times when your schedules match. It hurts you, you know it hurts her, and sometimes these Fridays are the only thing that can keep you sane. You might actually end up in a mental hospital.

“Oh, um… I dunno. Hopefully, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, biting back a yawn. “I jus’ miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you say, so quietly it’s almost like a confession. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m about to fall asleep,” you groan, slipping off of her and back onto the bed.

Laying on your side so you’re facing her, you watch as she opens her eyes and smiles at you in that sweet, slightly goofy way you fell in love with.

She reaches out and softly touches your under eyes, where you know there’s noticeable dark circles. She frowns, ever-so-slightly, and the unspoken question is thick in the air.

“Jackie keeps getting all pissed off at me,” you say, breaking the silence, making sure she doesn’t ask that question: “have you been sleeping?” You’re fine. You’re fine. “She thinks I’m studying too much but no matter how many times I tell her I’m studying a pretty normal amount- she won’t let it go.”

“Are you studying a normal amount?”

There’s a slight teasing smile on her face, so you roll your eyes.

“Yes. I stay up a little late, like, once and it’s like it’s the end of the world.”

It’s not just once, and it’s not just a little late, but KK is so tired, you can see it on her face.

She laughs. “Jackie jus’ loves you,” she says after a yawn.

“Too much, maybe.”

She puts her arm around you, tugging you closer to her. “You deserve all the love in the world, baby.”

You smile like a cheesy schoolgirl. “Okay,” you say, pressing a short kiss to her lips. “Go to bed, please. You can barely keep your eyes open and it’s actually kinda scary.”

“Come here,” she groans, pulling you even closer until you’re pressed up right against her.

And before you can even think about what you’re doing, you let out a sigh and press your face into her neck. This might be your favorite place- where you can feel her heartbeat and the way her arm is wrapped around you.

Your chest squeezes when everything fades out for a second, tiredness you didn’t feel until you were in her arms suddenly coming out in the form of a yawn.

“Damn, you’re tired,” she whispers, and you can hear the smile in her voice. You try to mumble “so are you” but it comes out as an incoherent mumble that she chuckles at.

Just as you faintly realize that comforting sensation is her hand in your hair, scratching your head, guilt consumes you. She’s been working so hard at practice- and here she is comforting you? You’re not going to national championships like her. You’re not doing anything important- you’re just tired from getting mediocre grades.

Sluggish, you moan and try to move out of her comfort, something inside of you screaming that you don’t deserve it, but she only mistakes it as you shifting in your sleep and softly shushes you.

And just as you push off sleep enough to try and get out, her breathing evens out. So, you fall asleep press tightly into her arms, feeling so guilty you think it might actually destroy you.

—-

hockey queen: hi baby practice finished early can i come over?

…

hockey queen: are u studying

hockey queen: babe pls i’m bored

hockey queen: ok i’m coming over deal w it

You set your pen down, staring at the scribbles in the margins of your assignment- the actual questions still blank. You sigh, feeling pressure behind your eyes that you try not to let spill.

“Fuck,” you whisper, putting your head into your hands and allowing yourself one guilty moment to wallow in self-pity before you finish this fucking assignment.

It’s still early, but you know you should have done this simple one page of work before tackling the endless pages of review for another test you have tomorrow- now you’re so tired you can barely see, and your hand is cramping.

You softly scrunch your dominant hand into a fist before spreading it out flat, almost wincing at how sore it is. Is it even possible for your hand to be this sore? Covered in smudged ink, you debate going to the bathroom and washing your hands. Maybe you need to walk around, then you can get this one page done.

But all you can think about is that stupid test tomorrow, and maybe you should stay up late again, screw Jackie’s concern, study more-

The first tear that drops onto your paper shocks you a bit. And you feel so stupid for crying in the first place that you start crying more.

Pressing your face into your hands, you’re too tired to try and stop the tears, just letting them fall. Your mind races with thoughts of that stupid test, this stupid assignment- and some rational part of you knows that this is unhealthy- but it’s college, and it kinda feels like everything you do is a precursor for your adult life.

If you can’t juggle tests and homework- how are you going to juggle bills and work? Simple housework?

Someone knocks on the door.

You freeze for a moment, feeling your makeup run streaky down your face, eyes still full of tears and mascara messy-

“Y/N?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck. You know that voice, you know KK’s voice, you can hear her perfectly through the door.

And you’re just stupidly, completely frozen.

Maybe because part of you wants to just run into her arms.

And before you can make up some lie or do anything to get her to go away, she just opens the door, and you quickly turn away.

“Oh. Y/N,” she says, obviously very confused. “I figured you weren’t in here. Did you see my texts?”

“Uh,” you start, and you know immediately that she can hear the sadness in your voice. “No, sorry. I’ve been studying.”

“What happened?” She asks, and you would laugh at the way she looks around the room, almost as if someone is going to jump out. “You’re crying.”

“No,” you fake laugh, standing up. “Give me a second, there’s something in my eye-”

She grabs your wrist.

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity and love in her voice makes you cry more.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’m just a little overwhelmed with school, I’ve had some late nights, it’s stupid that I’m crying over this. Seriously, babe, thank you- but it’s not that big of a deal.”

She’s got this kinda heartbroken look on her face, and you love her so much- you feel even more guilty for making her feel like this, for being the cause of the frown on her face, and you just want to go back in time and stop all of this from happening.

“…It is a big deal if it’s making you cry.”

You can’t say anything.

She wipes a few tears from your face. “You look exhausted, baby. I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’ve had a lot going on with school, but I know you, I know you’re tired and I think maybe-”

“I’ve had a few late nights, okay?” You finally meet her eyes, trying to convince her that you’re okay, because you feel so stupid and vulnerable and you can’t stand it when she has that concerned look in her eyes for you. “Like, not even that late. 2 A.M. isn’t even that bad. I mean, it’s not like it pays off, because my grades are still shit- but, whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine, okay? I’m sorry, I’m just not thinking straight, and- it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“You’re not fuckin’ fine, Y/N. Stop saying that, why are you pushing me away? You can tell me anything, I love you.”

She’s dropped her bag by now, her entire attention focused on you, one arm wrapped around your waist as if you might run away from her and the other softly brushing away the tears that continue to fall.

“I try so hard,” you say after a second. “I study so much. And I… I just can’t get good grades. And I just… I feel so guilty all the time, because I just want to spend time with you and I love you so much but you work so hard and I just don’t want to be another thing for you to deal with.”

And once it’s finally out, not curled up in your chest like a second heart leeching on the very essence of your being, the tears dry up.

Caroline softly smiles.

“What?” You ask, sniffling a bit, one step away from crying again.

“It’s just- how could you ever think that you would be something for me to “deal” with?”

“I dunno,” you say, slightly pouty as she helps you sit down next to her.

“You’re my favorite person in the entire world. I love you more than anything- even hockey, which is saying a lot. You’re never something for me to deal with, and I don’t do anything but smile anytime someone says your name, or you text me, or I get to see you- I’m sorry that it really sucks right now, with my schedule, and that you were feeling like this and I had no idea- but I really fucking love you.”

You smile softly. “You’re sweet,” you murmur, legs intertwining with hers. “I fucking love you too.”

She places her hand on the side of her face and kisses your nose.

“Don’t ever feel guilty for wanting to spend time with me. I’m never too tired for you. Besides, do you know what I think about during practice?”

“What’s right in front of you face?” You quip.

“Well, that, but also you. And, also, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about with your grades. Don’t you have like an 89 in each class?”

“It’s not a 90,” you groan.

“Still better than me, I’m like all 85’s. And, you’re literally the only reason I’m passing that one class that I hate who’s name I don’t speak.”

You smile, angling yourself to face her, finding that you can’t think of anything poetic to say to tell her how much she means to you, so you just kiss her. Long and slow, trying to pour as much appreciation and emotion into it as possible.

“Okay, game plan, I help you finish whatever work you have, then have you eaten? I’ll get us food. Then, you’re going to go to sleep early, okay?”

“It’s a plan,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to that one piece of paper, tear stain dried on it.

Her face spurs adorably just at the sight of the homework from her least favorite class. “Oh, you’re gonna love me. Don’t worry, I got the answers from the really smart girl I sit next to.” She takes out her own sheet of homework from her bag on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles on her thigh before proudly handing it to you.

“Hm, I do love you. Just a bit.”

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”

And later that night, with your homework finally done, takeout boxes in the trash bin, and your head on Caroline’s chest- heartbeat in your ears, her lips on the top of you head- it feels impossible to feel guilty about loving her.

—-

Jackie walks in late, groaning to herself about the stupid kid in her study group who asks the most common sense questions- she quickly shuts up when she realizes you’re asleep in your bed.

“Thank God,” she breaths, grateful that she didn’t find you hunched over at the desk again.

She squints into the darkness, quickly realizing there’s two figures on her bed, and the other one is very familiar-

“What did I say?” Jackie mutters to herself. “Insufferably in love with each other.”

Then, she quickly snaps a picture before getting ready for bed herself.

—-

[zepskies]

A Wish to Build a Dream On

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

AN: Welcome back to the Espresso-verse! This is set in 14.13: “Lebanon,” of course, but chronologically in the storyverse, it sits between Show Me and In Bad Weather.

Song Inspo: The story title was inspired by “A Kiss to Build a Dream On” by Louis Armstrong, but the real song inspiration for this is “Come Back Down” by Lifehouse.

Word Count: 7k~

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Spiciness/smuttish, angst, hurt/comfort, hint of body insecurity, and feels. 

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Sometimes, even the mundane in a two-year relationship can become new. And not in a good way. 

You and Dean are getting ready for bed, taking turns brushing your teeth. When you’re done, he comes in behind you at the sink and starts up his routine.

As you go to look for the moisturizer you pretend he doesn’t borrow from your nightstand, you watch him from the corner of your eye. Even dressed down in his loose shirt and pajama pants, he seems tired, and tense.  

Maybe because he’s been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for an entire month. 

You know Dean hasn’t been sleeping well, if at all. Now, he seems to be anticipating another fitful night. It doesn’t sit well with you to see the tension in his shoulders, the lines around his eyes that aren’t from laughing.

You wait until he slips into his side of the bed. Then you turn over and sidle up against him. You prop your elbow against his pillow, so you can look down on him with a smile. His brows twitch upwards.

“Well, hey,” he says. His arm settles around your waist under the covers. You stroke his cheek.

“Hey,” you reply. Though you don’t ask him if he’s all right. You already know the answer. Instead, you dip down for a kiss.

At first it’s just a sweet meeting of lips. You part from him softly, letting your thumb drag back and forth across his prickly cheek. He breathes in deeply and allows himself to savor the touch.

You dive back in again for a deeper taste, finding minty freshness with your tongue. He hums in response. His hold tightens on your waist, while your fingers drift down his neck, down his chest over his shirt. And then, they slip under the worn-out waistband of his sweatpants.

He groans deep in his throat when you stroke up and down the full length of him with a practiced hand. His knee bends on reflex, and he sucks in a breath as pleasure stirs low inside him.

But he stops you, grabbing your wrist gently, but firm.

You break the kiss in confusion. Dean’s eyes are still closed, brows furrowed while he takes deep breaths, as if he’s trying to pull himself back together. Or maybe, maintain a level of self-control.

His green eyes open and find yours in apology.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling your hand out of his pants. “Just uh…not really in the mood.”

You lift up the covers and glance down at the half-pitched tent in his pants with a raised brow.

“You sure about that?” you ask.

He stays quiet, which starts to make you suspicious. You let the covers drop and rest a hand on his chest, where his heart beats at a ticked-up pace.

“It’s been over a month, baby,” you point out. “I know there’s…a lot going on, but this isn’t like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired,” he claims.

You can understand that, to an extent, but intuition tells you that there’s something deeper here. Beyond the lack of intimacy, you’ve been starting to realize just how distant your boyfriend has been with you, even after getting him back from Michael.

Dean doesn’t…touch you anymore. And not just in this bed. As a matter of fact, him holding you right now is some of the closest affection he’s given you in days.

Despite that thought, he actually surprises you by covering your hand on his chest and squeezing your fingers. Likely he’s seen the disappointment and concern across your face.

“Come on. You think I only want you around for sex?” he jokes. It gets you to smile, however slightly.

“Call it a perk of this little arrangement,” you say in a dry tone. 

“Ooh, an arrangement. Sounds kinky,” he quips, with a curve of his lips. 

You smirk and take back your hand from under his. Carding your fingers through his hair, you dip down and start to kiss his neck. 

“I miss you,” you whisper against his warm skin. “But I also want to help you take your mind off it all… Just let me distract you for a while.” 

His eyes briefly close as he lets out a shaky breath, but he stops you for real this time. He holds your cheek and guides you away. His rejection hurts, making your chest sting, but his eyes implore you to let him explain.

“That’s just it,” he says. “I can’t. I can’t risk it.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t lose control,” Dean says. His tone is laced with grit and strain. “Michael’s in there, rattling around. He’s either pacing all damn day, or pounding on the walls.”

Dean presses a hand between his eyes, as if that’ll stop the headache that’s already forming. It’s bad enough that the archangel was controlling him for so long, rooting deep in his head and opening every door and shady corner. Thoughts, memories, private moments.

Now, Dean doesn’t know how much Michael sees of the outside world. It’s another reason he’d rather not heed every desire he has to roll you underneath his body and fuck you deep into the mattress. It’s why he hasn’t let himself touch you as often as he wants, as he craves.

Because the truth is, he’s scared. Scared of what might happen if he gets too distracted.

“Sometimes I think I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he admits to you, his throat tightening.

He glances back up at you, and finds you weeping. Your lower lip trembles. Guilt hits Dean harder between the ribs when he realizes what he’s been putting you through. What he’s still putting you through. He cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says.

You shake your head. “It’s not just that we can’t…it’s that I can’t help you,” you reply, with a tremble in your voice. “I can’t do anything.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to you, but he knows what he can do. He wraps his arms more securely around you and pulls you against him. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck and try to calm yourself by taking long, even breaths.

“I wish I could take this from you,” you confess.

He sighs. “I don’t.”

The next morning, Sam and Dean catch a lead on a fellow hunter who was killed by a supernatural artifacts dealer. They mean to track down the dealer.

Instead of going with them, you stay at the bunker and continue to research a way to extract and capture an archangel from a human host. 

Dean doesn’t question your decision; he’s grateful, but still feeling guilty about last night. And part of him doesn’t even know how to move forward with you right now. 

It’s just as well, because you’re not too sure of how to act around Dean either. Your heart breaks every time you look at him, and it was hard to even meet his eyes at breakfast this morning.

Mary is on a hunt nearby as well, but you don’t have the heart to join her when she calls you around noon. After you hang up with her, you realize that you’re feeling sorry for yourself, when the one who’s really suffering is Dean.

For a moment, you take a break from the old book in front of you. Your back is twinging from being hunched over in your research for hours on end in the library. You rub your eyes and let out a sigh, before you lift your gaze heavenward. You doubt your grandmother can hear you up there while she relives her greatest hits, but at this point, you’ll try anything.

Please, you think in Spanish, and even pray. Give me strength. Give him strength.

Sam and Dean return to the bunker after “taking care” of the scumbag dealer. They bring back a number of artifacts, which you’ll have to help them sort through. They pile it all onto the War Room table. 

But they show you one item in particular: the Baozhu, one of eight ancient Chinese treasures. In other words, it’s a pearl that grants your heart’s desire.

Now, in general, you tend to be wary about hoodoo, but Sam has already convinced Dean that it could work. He could wish Michael gone.

They’re both so earnest that you’re willing to go along with it…and let Dean give it a try.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom?” Sam asks him. “Or wait for Cas?”

“No,” Dean replies. “If this mojo works, great. If it doesn’t, then why get their hopes up?”

You agree with that point. In fact, you almost wish you could be Mary or Castiel right now.

Dean notes the look on your face, and he knows you well enough to read what you might be thinking. He turns his attention back to the pearl with determination.

He takes the pouch from Sam’s hand and doesn’t know what to do with it at first, but after little coaching from Sam, Dean takes the pearl in his hand, closes his eyes, and concentrates on his “heart’s desire.”

Michael outta my friggin’ head, he thinks.

The lights in the bunker start to flicker. You and Sam look up in wariness as the magic from the wish knocks out the electricity for a moment, casting the room into darkness mixed with a red glow from the emergency lights.

Sam turns when he spots a shrouded figure out of the corner of his eye—almost as tall as him, a large threatening frame. Sam swings a punch, but the intruder bats at his stomach, then his face with what looks like a crowbar. He goes down hard.

Just as you turn your head, Dean steps in next and gets an elbow to the chin for his trouble, then a swift kick in the stomach that sends him across the room with Sam. The intruder wracks his crowbar, which as it turns out, is actually a shotgun.

“Don’t you move,” he says.

He must not have seen you in the dark. It gives you the opportunity to come up behind him with one of the emergency handguns Dean had taped under the table for exactly this purpose. You tuck the safety back with a click.

“Drop it,” you demand.

The man pauses. He knows you’re there, but he doesn’t yet lower his weapon.

And the lights come back on.

Sam and Dean’s eyes widen when they realize who they’re faced with.  

“Dad?” Dean says incredulously.

John Winchester is just as confused to be in the bunker as his sons are to see him alive, and in the bunker. For John, he thinks it’s 2003. Sam should be at school in Palo Alto, while John’s been hunting with Dean.

John is understandably shocked when Sam tells him that sixteen years have passed.

“I think we summoned you,” Sam says, after he and Dean pick themselves up from the ground.

John takes a beat to try and process, but he has too many questions.

“You boys better tell me what’s going on right now,” he says. Though he turns and notices you after you slip your gun back into the waistband of your jeans and draw closer to Dean, laying a hand on his arm. A subtle look passes between you two.

You good? yours says.

I think so, Dean’s replies. The exchange doesn’t go unnoticed.

“And you are?” John asks. His gaze is focused on you, and the directness of his tone somewhat takes you by surprise. You never thought you would meet John Winchester.

But after you tell him your name, Dean rests a hand at the small of your back.

“She’s my girlfriend,” he says.

Intrigue sparks in John’s eyes, and he nods in response. His mind is probably buzzing with too much information to levy any kind of politeness your way, but it still leaves a tense, awkward atmosphere in its wake.

Sam tries to bridge it by suggesting you all sit at the long table in the War Room to go over what John’s missed. He agrees, though he requests a strong drink first.

Explaining what’s really happening to the older, yet still incredibly spry hunter takes a while. You all do it with a bottle of Jack Daniels split four ways.

“So, you saved the world?” John asks. His whiskey glass is in his hands, and he raises a finger in a “So you mean to tell me” gesture.

“More than once,” Dean admits.

“Then it’s all true. God, the Devil, you boys smack in the middle,” John says. You can see him working through all this, but also with fatherly pride coming through. It would make you smile, if this situation wasn’t so goddamn weird.

“Now you all live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid,” he continues, and this time, he includes you in his gaze. All you can do is nod with a feeble smile.

Sam and Dean also confirm his summary.

“And you’ve done this whole…time travel thing before?” he asks.

“A few times,” Dean nods. “Actually, our grandfather, your dad…he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know you’re finally here.”

Dean has told you about Henry Winchester, and how John had thought the man abandoned him when he was a child. But now, he seems to understand.

“Right, Man a’ Letters,” he nods.

“Yeah, we’re uh, we’re legacies,” Sam says, giving his father a smile. “Because of you.”

John has to smile back.

The three of them continue to talk for a while, and you mostly keep to yourself. Truth be told, you’re feeling a bit out of place in this moment.

The John you’ve heard stories about is a gruff ex-marine with a “give ‘em hell” attitude. This man has a solid presence, and a gruff voice not unlike Dean’s, but all you see in him is both pride and wonder at everything his sons are telling him about this world he’s been thrust into.

After a little while more, Sam realizes he needs to call someone immediately: his mother.

John’s face falls into shock.

“Mary?” he says. His disbelieving eyes become tinged with hope. “She’s…she’s alive?”

Dean shares a quick look with Sam, who heads out of the room quick to find his phone.

“Yeah, Dad. It’s a long story, but uh…she’s back too,” Dean says, smiling. “Wait ‘til she sees you.”

John’s brows furrow. He looks down at his hands on the table, fighting emotion. You can’t help but feel for him. You notice the empty bottle of whiskey, and without meaning to, you fall into “caretaker mode.”

“Uh, John, you want some water? Or maybe a beer?” you ask, as you start to get up from your seat. Dean looks up at you with a measure of bemusement.

“Beer would be good, thanks,” John says, giving you a small, but sincere smile. Somehow that unbalances you even more, though you smile back.

“Okay, and while I’m at it I think I’d better start dinner,” you say. Mary doesn’t cook, really. Sam is a lost cause too. (The man can barely boil an egg.) So it’s often up to you and Dean to handle the food in this house…bunker…whatever.

Dean disrupts your thoughts by grasping your hand, hoping it’ll steady you.

“You don’t have to, baby,” he says. You perk up with a more genuine smile.

“Oh, I want to! Besides, you guys should keep talking. Catch up,” you say, gesturing between father and son. You squeeze Dean’s hand, then make your quick escape.  

Dean smirks and watches you go. John follows his son’s gaze, then looks back at him in amusement. 

“She a good cook?” he asks. 

Dean raises his brows. “Oh, just you wait. She makes this beef stew thing, ropa vieja? Ridiculous. And a pork roast like you wouldn’t friggin’ believe.”

John chuckles. “Latina, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dean grins.  

“Nice,” his father nods with another short laugh. But it evens out into a certain smile. “How long’ve you two been together?”

Dean mentally counts it back. You often calculate it from the first time he officially asked you out for a nice dinner here in town. He likes to count it from that very first night he finally got a taste of your sweet café con leche…in more ways than one.

“Two years and some change. Almost three,” he says. John gives a low whistle.

“Look at you,” he remarks. And he seems pleased, with a gleam in his eyes that warms Dean deep inside. “Good for you, son. Glad to see you’ve got someone to hold you down.”

Dean sobers at that. He glances down at his empty glass of whiskey.

“Yeah,” he says. “You don’t know how much.”

It’s a good thing you went grocery shopping yesterday, or else you’d be shit out of luck trying to put something together for dinner. There happened to be a sale going on in the seafood section, so you find that you have everything you need to make a Spanish paella.

You get to chopping the onions, bell peppers, garlic, tomato, and parsley first before anything else. While that starts sautéing in the pan, you break out the chicken, shrimp, and mussels from their individually wrapped packages.

You continue according to the recipe you have in your mind’s eye—the one your grandma instilled in you. She’d learned it from her half-Spanish mother when she was a kid.

Cooking is one of those things that allows you to reset your mind. It’s like how Dean is when he sits down to tune up his car, or Sam when he reads a new book. You can just zero in and focus on the task at hand, and it allows you to put the rest of the chaos out of your head for a while. Plus, you just like feeding people.

Sometimes though, the task of whipping up a hot meal just gives you time to think. And right about now, you’re still reeling.

On one hand, you’re so happy for Sam and Dean. And of course for Mary, who’s about to get her entire world flipped upside down. You have so many questions for John Winchester…but not all of them would be pleasant.

You have to try to push that part down, for Dean’s sake. He’s just gotten his father back. He doesn’t need you adding even more onto his load.

There’s a knock on the open door of the kitchen that pulls you out of your thoughts. You raise your head and look over your shoulder. John is there with an empty beer bottle, which he raises in greeting.

You give him a small smile. “Hope you’re getting hungry.”

“With that smell, who wouldn’t?” he says, drawing near enough to lean against the counter next to you. He answers your unspoken question. “Dean’s lookin’ for some pictures to show me.”

You nod at that. “Yeah, he has a few good ones, and some are new. I’m sure you’ll like to see them.”

John nods and regards you with curiosity. He wants to know more about the woman in his son’s life, but he’s not too sure where to start.

“So you’re a hunter too?” he asks.

“Yep. Not for as long as Dean, but long enough,” you reply. It’s tinged with the knowledge that no hunter should’ve been as young as Dean when they started, but you keep that thought deep inside.

“How’d you two meet?” John asks.

Your lips twitch at a smile. You tell him the story of how you’d met Dean at a dirty bar in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Dean hadn’t realized you were a hunter at first when he watched you hustle some guy at pool.

He set you in his sights, flirted with you, and you probably would’ve let him take it further if you hadn’t stunned him with the knowledge that you, Sam, and Dean happened to be in town working the same case. From that day on, the three of you had become allies and friends.

You and Dean just hadn’t become you and Dean for a long time after that. Too long, if you were honest. But, it’s all worked out so far. This is the longest relationship both of you have been in, pretty much ever.

There’s a lull of silence that falls between you and John after you finish the story. It’s not altogether comfortable, and he realizes that when he watches you putter about the kitchen while you cook. You’re trying to busy yourself.

“This must be one hell of a strange day for you,” he says.

Your head perks up, and you have to smile wryly. “Our lives are built on strange.”

John’s chuckle concedes your point. But you look over at him thoughtfully and set down your wooden spoon.

“Could I, um…could I ask you something?” you ask.

He nods at you. “Sure.”

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you really can’t help yourself.

“We don’t know each other well,” you begin. “But, knowing what you know now, about Sam and Dean and everything they’ve gone through… If you could go back, would you change anything?”

John tilts his head at you, like he’s trying to read through the lines in your words. It reminds you of Sam.

“You mean, would I do things differently?” he asks. “From what point?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. From the point in time you can remember, with Sam in college. Or maybe further back…from when they were kids.”

You try your best not to make it sound like a leading question, but you don’t think you’ve disguised it well enough. John stares back at you, as if the lines are now connecting in his mind.

He sees you're well-meaning. Despite your best efforts though, he knows you're accusing him of something. And he thinks you have some audacity.

He's somehow both taken aback, and amused by that fact. Trust Dean to be with a woman who goes for the jugular.

“Because you’ve been straight shootin’ with me, I guess I’ll shoot straight with you,” John replies. He sighs and wipes a hand over his bearded mouth, like you’ve seen Dean do at times when he’s tired, or anxious.

“A good part of me believes I did the best I could,” he says.

Your gaze falls; you don’t want him to see your real thoughts in your eyes.

“But,” he says, “If you're asking if I have regrets? ...Then you'd be right.”

You consider him then, for a moment. You find that you believe him. You begin to soften.

“Well, that’s something we have in common,” you reply. “But Sam and Dean are the best men I’ve ever known… So thank you.”

And you mean that. You are grateful for both of them. They became your family when you thought you had no one left.

John surprises you by shaking his head, smiling. “That’s what I wanted to say to you.”

You falter at that.

Me? you think. Why would he want to thank me?

Before you can truly digest his words, Dean comes into the kitchen, both to check on you and bring his dad the pictures he keeps in his nightstand. While he looks through them, John surreptitiously watches you and his son. 

Dean sidles up behind you and rests a hand along your hip. He peeks over your shoulder at what you’re cooking. You open the lid on the big pan of rice, chicken, and seafood, and he hums in delight at the smell of saffron that hits him.

“What’s that, paella?” he asks.

You give him an impressed look. “Very good. Here, it’s not quite ready yet, but try a bit.”

You put a shrimp and a bit of rice on the wooden spoon and raise it to his lips. Dean smiles and takes the proffered bite. He then moans in appreciation.

“Oh, that’s good,” he praises with his mouth full. “A bit spicy.”

“You like that though,” you tease.

Dean eyes you, and he chuckles. “Yeah, I do actually.”

John smiles to himself, both at the pictures of his boys throughout the years he missed, and at the glimpse he gets to see now.

You turn to him with another spoonful held out. “Want to try some, John?”

He obliges you by coming over and taking the spoon from your hand. He takes the bite, and his brows shoot up.

“Oh man, that’s got some kick to it,” he says.

“Too much?” you ask.

“Nah, it’s real good.”

Dean grins, but it soon dims as he realizes something.

“Ooh, what about dessert?” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Do we have anything?”

“Nope,” you reply. “Either we pick something up, or…I could make a flan.”

Dean’s grin kicks back in, full force. If there's one thing he's come to love in this world besides pie, it's your flan.

“But! For that I’ll need more ingredients,” you say, holding down a laugh at the look on your man’s face.

“Say no more,” he replies. “I’ll go on a grocery run. Just tell me what you need.”

You’re about to respond when a door creaks open down the hall. Mary hastens into the kitchen with Sam on her heels. When she sees her husband, her face falls into shock.

“John,” she breathes.

John's amusement gradually melts away, into watery-eyed emotion.

“My girl,” he says.

The two meet each other in the middle of the room. He holds her face, and she grips the front of his shirt with desperation. Their kiss is beautiful and tender…and then it’s more.

You and Dean share a wide-eyed look with Sam. The three of you quickly tip out of the room to the sounds of soft moans in your wake.  

“Wow. I mean, this is crazy right?” Dean says. He gesticulates wildly with his hands as the three of you make your way down the hall. “The way they just…connected, like magnets.”

You turn to him with a knowing smile.

“Your parents are about to have a lot of reunion sex,” you tease. 

Both Sam and Dean grimace. Dean has a full body shiver and gives you a look.

“Thank you for that,” he says wryly. 

You laugh and try to soothe him with a hand down his arm, but he playfully shakes his head at you. You have mercy on the brothers and manage to stifle your laughter.

“Okay, so, dessert,” you say.

“Well, since you’re so graciously being our chef for tonight, you just relax,” Dean says. “Sam and I’ll go make a run. You just tell me what you need.”

You pause in the hallway and give a hum of suspicion. You’re not sure you trust him to get the right stuff. The last time you asked him to get very specific ingredients from the store, he did not, in fact, bring you what you needed. (Somehow, he thought regular garlic powder was the same as Adobo seasoning.)

He clocks that look of yours and rolls his eyes. “Come on, really? What am I, five years old? Just give me a list.”

You relent with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll text it to you. But if you need me to send you pictures of anything, just let me know.”

Dean’s lips kick up into a smirk. He leans in for a parting kiss on your cheek, but it’s just an excuse to whisper in your ear.

“Well, I’ll never say no to some pics,” he says. “Nudes, preferably.” 

He then laughs at your rosy blush and raised brows. Now you know he’s in a better mood.

“Just hurry up,” you reply, shaking your head. He keeps chuckling as he passes by you. A smile curves your lips, and you give into the urge to smack his ass on his way up the stairs.

Sam just sighs in amused resignation. He raises a hand to you in goodbye and follows his brother up to the garage. 

Once they’re in the car, Sam finally unloads what he’s been holding onto all afternoon.

“Dean, how did this happen?”

“I mean, I don’t know. You said that the pearl gives you what your heart desires, right?” Dean says. “So, my heart desired… Look, I’ve wanted this, man. I’ve wanted this since I was four years old. Maybe having Mom back just brought it all back up.”

He’s not exactly sure how deep that “desire” was buried, but the pearl knew. Dean couldn’t believe how happy he was when he saw his dad again, got to tell him everything that he’d missed, getting to have him meet you. And seeing his dad with his mom again? Well, that was a child’s dream come true.

But Debbie Downer (AKA: his brother) looks concerned in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I know, and I love this too,” Sam says. “But messing with time—”

“No, no, no. Sam,” Dean says, raising a hand in protest as he drives.

“You know how this ends, Dean. Things change,” Sam tries to reason. Dean just shakes his head.

“Yeah, we got our family back together! I’ll take that change.”

“That’s not what I mean—”

“Stop. Just stop,” Dean says, in a tone that bodes no argument. “Look, can we just have one family dinner? Just one? Us—all of us together? That’s all I want. Can you just give me that?”

Sam’s lips purse. He knows it’s useless to argue with Dean when he gets like this, but Sam just can’t help the uneasy churning in his gut. It warns him that the other shoe has yet to drop on this spell.

You’re checking on the food when Sam and Dean return from their trip. Except the way they come storming into the kitchen has you turning to them in alarm.

Dean grasps your arms and searches your face. His face is marred by fresh cuts and a bruise or two.

“You feeling all right?” he asks. “Do you think Sam is a turtleneck-wearing douchebag?”

“Dean, what?” you utter. You touch his bruised cheek lightly, wincing in sympathy when he does out of pain. “What happened?”

True to Sam’s gut, the wish changed more than bringing John Winchester back from 2003. They explain what they went through after getting the groceries you requested—namely getting attacked by Castiel and Zachariah at the local liquor store.

The latter of the two angels was supposed to be dead, while the other had no recollection of being friends with the Winchesters. Sam was supposed to be a hot-shot Steve Jobs wannabe lawyer, while Dean had his mugshot plastered all over town.

“I think it’s…a temporal paradox,” Sam says.

Now, you’re very alarmed.

“Are you kidding me?! What the hell are we gonna do?” you exclaim.

“About what?” John asks from the doorway. He’s no longer wearing his jacket, you notice, and his shirt is looking a bit rumpled and hastily buttoned at the top, but his gaze is serious, matching his sons.

After sharing another telling look, Dean takes the responsibility of explaining the situation to his father, while Sam goes to find his mother.

Dean and John go into the library to talk. He explains that pulling John out of his time is now making the current timeline self-correct. Meaning, everything and everyone is gradually adjusting to the change.

“Basically, uh, if you don’t go back,” Dean says. He hesitates on the words, but he forces himself to continue. “Sam never gets back into the life. And Mom, she…”

“What?” John asks.

“Well, without everything that we did, with God, the Darkness, Mom never comes back,” Dean explains, even though it’s killing him inside. “Sam thinks that she’ll just fade away.”

It hurts him still to see the understanding don on his dad’s face, along with a smile of resignation.

“Okay,” John agrees. “I mean, me versus your mom? That’s not even a choice.”

Dean nods at that, however belatedly.

“Dean…I never meant for this,” John says.

“Dad, we pulled you here—”

“No, son. My fight,” he says. He still thinks about his conversation with you earlier today. He thinks about how protective you seemed just by that question you asked—not just protective of Dean, but of Sam too.

“It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes,” John explains. “But now, you’re a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you.”

Dean takes that in; he feels a rush of warmth deep in his heart, even though he doesn’t know what to say.

“You and your girl…you two planning on settling down someday? Having a family?” John asks.

Dean quirks a smile. You two haven’t talk about…that. Any of that. In between all the shit you all keep landing in, he’s somehow never had those conversations with you. Maybe he should.

But not now. Not until Michael’s gone and dealt with.

“I don’t know if we’re the settling type, but either way…I have a family,” Dean replies. He can say that honestly, with a soft smile that reaches his eyes.

John smiles back.

“All right,” he says. “Just think about it then.”

Dean once again finds you in the kitchen. You’ve gotten the plates, glasses, and silverware ready for dinner on the dining table.

“Hey, there’s only four plates on the table. We’re five,” Dean says.

You nod and close the oven back up. You’ve spent the past hour preparing the flan and just took it out of the oven. Hopefully it will have enough time to chill in the fridge.

You go to Dean and grasp the front of his gray flannel. In return, he holds you close by your arms.

“Listen, I thought it might be better if the four of you have dinner together. I’ll just eat here in the kitchen,” you say. Dean’s brows furrow, but you try to explain before he can start protesting. “You don’t have a lot of time left with your dad. This is the first time you’re getting to be together with your family like this. I just want to make sure you get the most out of it.”

Dean squeezes your arms and frowns down at you.

“You being there doesn’t take anything away from me being with them,” he says sternly. “And you’re part of my family. Part of our family. I’m not gonna have you eating in here by yourself like you’re a leper or something. Come on.”

He grabs your plate and the glass that you set aside on the counter, and he brings it to the table without letting you get a word in to stop him. You sigh, watching him go, but you also have to smile as the sting of tears burns in your eyes.

Dinner is awkward and dour at first. You all can’t help but think of what’s to come at the end of the night—ending the spell, and sending John back along with it.

But after John sets the tone, encouraging them to be grateful for this moment, and not dreading the inevitable end, everyone’s able to relax. The rest goes off without a hitch. 

While Sam and Dean are telling a childhood story, arguing about who’s version of the events were more accurate, you get up to grab the dessert from the fridge. 

You take out the pan of flan with both hands and go to bring it back to the table, but right in the doorway, you stumble to a stop as a wave of something washes over you. It prickles across your skin and feels a lot like magic.

The pan drops from between your hands and crashes to the floor. It startles everyone in the room.  

Dean calls your name in alarm. He’s the closest to you, and he gets up to steady you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asks, trying to get you to meet his gaze. 

But when you do, he sees blankness behind your widened eyes. 

“Who are you?” you ask. You look around in both fear and confusion. “Where the hell am I?”

Dean’s throat constricts. "What do you mean? You live here. I'm..."

He searches your face for any hint of a joke, but he finds none. Trepidation grows inside him, and he realizes then what this is.

Another temporal shift, getting closer to the new timeline. One in which you and Dean are clearly strangers.

Somehow, he didn’t anticipate this.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he says.

Your brows furrow as you take in the man in front of you. He’s certainly a sight to see, you think, but those broad shoulders, the cut of his jaw, those green eyes…they’re unfamiliar to you.

“Sorry, but…I feel like I’d remember you,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “Have we worked together or something?”

Dean’s lips press together. He gives you a meaningful look. “Sweetheart, we’ve done a lot more than that.”

Your brows raise, and you blush hotly at the thinly veiled innuendo in his deep voice. You take another quick scan of him, which he notes with a smile.

“Yeah, I uh, I doubt that,” you say, which drops his smile again. You curl a strand of hair behind your ear, like you’re embarrassed just by him scrutinizing your curvy form. Like you can’t believe he’s basically flirting with you.

That’s not the woman he knows. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I have to figure out where the hell I am and how to get home,” you say. And you ease out of his hold and back away. 

Dean grabs your hand fast. “Uh, wait. Sorry, just…”

He raises a placating hand and glances back at Sam with a hidden thread of desperation in his eyes. His brother is shocked and disheartened, as are Mary and John.

“Okay. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam, our parents, Mary and John,” Dean says, turning back to you. “I know this has gotta be weird as hell for you right now, but can you just…stay put for a bit, until I get this worked out?”

You give him an uneasy look. He’s holding your hand like he’s afraid to let you go. You don’t know this man at all, and yet he really seems to believe that he knows you. It doesn’t make any damn sense.

You shake your head. “Look, I have to go home.”

You try tugging your hand out of his, and Dean finally lets you go.

“Why, you got a boyfriend waiting or something?” he asks. He’s half teasing, and half serious. 

“No, um, family,” you admit. “My grandma’s probably waiting for me.” 

Dean’s expression slackens. In the right version of the timeline, you’re his girl. But your grandmother passed away a few years ago.

“Okay,” he wipes at his mouth with a hand. “Tell you what, it’s pretty late. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Deal?”

The truth is, he has no intention of letting you go any-damn-where, but he needs to buy them some time to break this spell. Then you’ll be back to normal.

Right now, you’re reluctant to trust him. Eventually though, you nod in agreement. Dean wastes no time in bringing you to the War Room, where he encourages you to take a seat.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he promises.

You nod a bit hesitantly, as you still treat him with dubious suspicion. It breaks his heart. He forces himself to turn away from you and return to the dining room.

Part of you can’t help but watch him leave. Those long legs and broad shoulders are a sight, you can admit, but this is all too much for you. You further take in your surroundings and also think this place is strange. No windows…what, are we in some WWII bunker?

And yet, Señor Green Eyes claimed that you live here. Your car, your keys, it all must still be here, you reason. 

So you wait until he’s all the way down the hall, and disappearing into another room. You get up out of your seat and start looking for your stuff—and a way out of here.

Meanwhile, Dean goes back into the dining room where Mary is already crying in John’s arms: for her eldest son, for her youngest, for her husband, and for herself. Dean’s eyes are red and stinging too. 

By now, Sam has gotten up from the table and has been waiting for his brother. He lays a supportive hand on Dean’s shoulder. When Dean meets his brother’s gaze, he sees the shine of heartbreak there too. 

“Let’s get this done,” John says.

Saying goodbye is the hardest thing. 

Somehow, though, they get through it. Dean reflects on how he never got to say it to his father the first time. He feels the worst for his mom, who gets her husband ripped away from her.

It’s not fair. In fact, it’s a cruel turn of the knife that he should’ve expected. Dean feels guilty just for making this goddamn wish.

John says goodbye to his wife first, then his sons. He pulls them both into a hug that Dean clings to. Again, he hears his father say that he’s proud of him and his brother. Dean hears him say that he loves them. 

“I love you too,” are the only words Dean can manage out, in a coarse whisper. 

But Sam is the one who has to make things right. He crushes the pearl. John slowly disappears in a haze of golden light. Tracks of tears are wet on all of their faces, but Dean is the first one who has to lock it all away. 

He remembers that you’re still waiting in the other room. 

Wiping at his eyes, he leaves Sam to comfort their mother and hurries out there, to the room where Dean left you…only to find your chair empty. 

A tendril of panic churns in his gut, but he has to remind himself that they’ve set things right. Even if you’ve run off, you can’t have gone far. 

He calls your name as he heads for the door to the garage. He picks up his keys and his phone to call you, but he stops at the foot of the stairs.

He sees you at the top of them, having dropped your duffel bag at your feet. Your name falls from his lips again.

You turn around and hold a hand to your head, with your brows furrowed in discomfort. Your gaze travels down to his.

“Dean?” you call out.

You head down the stairs, and Dean meets you there at the bottom. He pulls you into a tight, desperate hug. His hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. Even though you’re still a bit confused, you hold him back to reassure him, and to steady yourself. 

“What happened?” you ask.

“We reversed the spell,” he confesses, after he finds his voice. “Had to send him back.”

Your hold becomes more comforting as your hand slides up the back of his neck. 

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry,” you whisper. You card your fingers through his hair. His hold on you tightens even more. You feel his deep, shuddering breaths. He’s trying to contain it all, to push it down. You wish he would allow himself to let it out. 

He presses his lips into your neck instead. 

“You okay?” he asks. Your cheek brushes his when you nod. 

“I’m fine, but…” You pull back enough to see his face. “Did I…forget you? Everyone?”

Dean’s lips press together.

“For a minute there,” he says, “but we got it all worked out.”

You let out a shaky sigh, and you tug him back into a warm hug that you both need. 

Mary prefers to be alone that night. You understand it, but you still apologize and give her a heartfelt embrace in the hallway outside her room. 

It takes her a moment, but she returns it. You start to realize that Winchesters are not a touchy-feely bunch by design. You can’t help yours though; you’re affectionate by nature. You just hope you haven’t overstepped.

Mary gives you a small, teary smile when you eventually pull away. She squeezes your hand before she says goodnight to you and her sons. 

You give Sam a parting hug as well. He rubs your back in a brotherly gesture. 

“Sorry about the whole temporary amnesia thing,” you quip. 

Sam shakes his head with a smile. “Just glad to have you back.”

After he lets you go, Dean thumps his brother on the back. He then heads down the hall without a word.

You and Sam share a look, in which you give him an unspoken promise: I’ll take care of him.

You follow after Dean, who trekked a well-worn path to your shared bedroom. He’s already at the sink, splashing water on his face. After drying himself with a small towel, he sighs and rests his hands on the corners of the sink.

After closing the bedroom door, you go over and slip your arms around him from behind. 

You rest your head against his back, and you both take in some deep breaths. Dean clasps a hand over yours on his chest. 

“I’m okay,” he says. 

“No, you’re not,” you tell him. “And that’s okay.”

Dean stays quiet. For a beat, he closes his eyes. He’s grateful for you. He’s still not sure why you put up with all the hellish shit that surrounds his life.

He turns in your arms so he can cup your cheek, smoothing his thumb across your skin. 

“You know how much I love you right now?” he says, even though his deep voice cracks. Tears well up in your eyes, but you smile and you nod. 

“Yeah, I do,” you reply, resting a hand on his chest. “I love you back.” 

He frames your face with his hands and bows his head to kiss you. It’s fraught and devouring, and a bit greedy. You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now, especially when his hands slip under your shirt and raise it over your head with practiced ease. In turn, you help him shrug out of the flannel and everything else.

You seat him down on the edge of the bed and stroke his face, his neck, his bare shoulders. His fingers press into your thick thighs as he encourages you to climb aboard, straddling his hips.  

Michael still paces back and forth in his mind, but for now, Dean’s able to tune it out and focus on this moment, with you. 

AN: This ended up being another long one. Lots of angst and feels, but I sincerely hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun with this chapter of the Espresso-verse. 💜

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Little Danger." This one is lighter. Just a "quick and dirty" one-shot my brain couldn't let go of:

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

▶️ Next Story: A Little Danger

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

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Main Masterlist

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@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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[mikareo]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ midnight love ⠀ ꒰ . . geto suguru x gn reader ꒱ . . . word count; 0.7k

⊹ ⠀⠀ heartbreak is a cycle. over, and over, and over again.

contains; geto suguru x gn reader, angst, geto dumped you and you can't get over it, mentions abandonment and attachment issues, lots of reader insecurities, womp womp author's note; hey ! XD

"you really can't be calling me at this hour anymore." suguru's voice is faint. he's likely just woken up from a deep slumber, probably dreaming of something far more interesting and attractive than you are, but that isn't a dream that you'd like to picture. he did this to you.

sometimes, he needs to see what your nightmares look like.

"i'm sorry, it's just that i've been thinking about everything again." clearing your throat, you can't help but notice that your voice can't stop shaking. get a grip of yourself. you're embarrassing. "i feel like we made a mistake. it's not crazy to try things again; we know what went wrong so let's just fix it this time. right? we can be even better this time around."

you know the hopefulness slipping from your tongue is something that suguru has grown to hate. he hates the guilt that it makes him feel. he hates the reminders of a time where he was so madly in love with you that he couldn't imagine sleeping through one of your sporadic phone calls in the middle of the night. he hates how it reminds him how hard you sobbed when he said those three little words. not 'i love you'...but 'let's break up'.

he hates that it makes him regret things.

so instead, he forces you to bottle it all up.

"i'm not interested anymore, i've told you that." the sound of your poorly mended heart shattering once more is far too familiar. "seriously, we crashed and burned so let's just leave it at that."

this is the third time he's said these words. the first being an hour after he dumped you over the phone, when you called him back amidst uncontrollable sobs and he didn't seem to care all that much. the second being a month after what would've been your first anniversary together, to which he was careless with your heart as you poured it out to him on his doorstep. now, the third, where it's been a whole three months since your untimely break up and your sleep has been lost to you for yet another night.

...and he still doesn't care.

he doesn't care about you.

he doesn't care at all.

why doesn't he care?

"suguru, please." it's pathetic to beg, but what else can you do? "i love you. i want to be with you and i'm willing to do anything to make it work. c'mon, work with me, here." just say yes. just say yes and maybe you'll smile again.

he takes a deep breath. you can count down the seconds until he exhales.

three.

you envision a scenario where he bolts from his bed, frantically grabs his jacket, and drives straight to your house. his hand hovers over the front door, ready to knock, when you fling it open and then fling yourself into his arms. suguru laughs at your eagerness, gently gripping your face beneath your jaw and kissing you tenderly. god, it's been so long since you felt his kisses. you could cry from the overwhelming happiness in your heart. the overwhelming joy that he never fails to make you feel when he's truly and completely in love with you, too.

two.

you recall one of your favorite dreams, one just a few nights ago, where suguru had never broken up with you in the first place. in fact, he thinks the mere thought is comically funny. he'd never ends things. you're the best thing that's ever happened to him and he never fails to tell you that at every hour of the day. he's the perfect boyfriend. he's the ideal husband. he's the man that you've been wishing for for your entire life...but he really is just that. he's a dream.

one.

"i don't love you anymore."

oh...

oh.

you wish this were a scenario. you wish you were sleeping. you wish he could've said anything other than those awful words, but this is reality. dreams don't reflect reality. dreams aren't real. his love for you isn't real. he doesn't love you. he doesn't want you. he doesn't need you. give up. give up. stop making a fool of yourself.

"but i love you."

pathetic.

you're pathetic.

the sigh he exhales is pitiful.

he's so obviously aware of how clingy you've become in your lonesome life that he's not even surprised by your behavior. he's not surprised by your confession. it's almost as if he expected it. he knows your flaws. he knows your stance on abandonment...on attachment...on absence. he knows you can't possibly function in a world without him...

...and he hangs up.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[chochuuya]

scenarios with tr boys!

that i hc suit them best.. part 2! (≖ᴗ≖ ✿)

note: there are only four scenarios in here, to read more go to part 1 ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞

characters included: shinichiro, draken, inui, baji, mitsuya, hakkai, kokonoi, kakucho, taiju, ran, kazutora, chifuyu, angry and takuya

imagine that your scooter or motorcycle died just when you’re on the way to s.s motors.

he always manages to turn your luck around, though. the fact that he would go a literal extra mile to come and help you— he’s just that kind of guy.

right now, he’s laughing at your defeat of trying to go further and pushing the vehicle with him.

he flashes a charming grin at you and lets you sit while he pushes. since when is he this strong?

“alright, hang on tight.” he takes off his jacket, playfully tossing at you. “keep that safe for me?”

what an annoying flirt.

SHINICHIRO, draken, inui

two beds.. or does the universe have other plans for you both?

“we’re gonna freeze to death.” he hits the air conditioning unit once more for good measure.

it relentlessly continues to create an artifical north pole into the motel room as he shivers and your teeth chatter.

you both could go home but.. your only transport (his motorcycle) went out of gas and it’s midnight.

he looks down at you, laying in your own bed with the covers pulled up to your chin. he gives you an apologetic look, as if this is all his fault.

“maybe we could conserve body heat?” he suggests. there’s two beds, but maybe one was the better solution.

you quickly nodded as you reach out your arms for him without a second thought. the cold was too much.

he climbs into your bed, his body instantly hugging you tightly, his arms wrapping around your back without hesitation as the blanket drape over your figures.

“n-next ti-time, we should bri-bring extra money when we go out!” you say as you quavered.

“noted.” he chuckled.

BAJI, mitsuya, hakkai

he spends money like water. for you especially.

this is the twentieth gift he has sent, except this time it’s from the man himself.

it had been a week since you two had a fight and you hadn’t spoken to him.

he’s been sending you gifts that you received but didn’t respond to, so this time he decided to come himself.

“can we talk? i want to apologize, okay? i’ve been meaning to all week but, i don’t know how.” he says when you finally open the door.

you take a good look at him, debating with yourself before deciding.

with a defeated sigh, you allowed him to enter your home. “okay, come on in..”

“thank you,” he says, smiling at you.

“now please tell me what i can do to make this right.” he pauses and then asks, “do you want another gift?”

you shake your head. “i don’t want another one, i just want you to be with me.”

his smile widens as he steps closer to you. “and i want to be with you too.”

“i know we’ve had our ups and downs these past few weeks, but i know we can make this work. just give us a chance.”

he gently takes your hand and presses it to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

girl.. you better forgive him, only you can make him this smitten for you.

KOKONOI, KAKUCHO, taiju, ran (more specifically bonten ran.. he gives me sd vibes)

the line in the store was unusually long and your legs are starting to turn to jelly.

when it is finally your turn to pay for your purchases, you were out of it for some reason.

“thank you for waiting, ma’am. i apologize for any inconvenience.”

you had to stare at the cashier for a good few seconds. you rarely come across men looking this good, you thought before snapping out of it.

“huh?”

“sorry for making you wait.” he smiled.

you just nodded, pressing your lips together feeling even more embarrassed now for not hearing him the first time.

KAZUTORA, CHIFUYU, angry, takuya

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

the last one is canon bcs it happened to me in uniqlo.. it’s gonna haunt me for life now (⭑•͈ 𓎟 •͈ ) all likes & reblog are vv much appreciated! ♡♡

[aweina]

౨ৎ. PEACHES & CREAM ( 17 + ) ; raiden

tags gn reader. caught masturbating. hand job. oral sex. food play. hair pulling. friends to lovers. + 2k words.

based on this ask

the straw basket you held was snug in your grasp, filled with assortments of glossy apples, fuzzy peaches, and ripe lychees. it was all of raiden’s favorite fruits — something you learned from tomas’s daily commutes to your family’s fruit farm.

a bad fever. you distinctly traced back to kung lao’s words, a bitter look animating his face every time he spared details about raiden’s current sickening state. a layer of cold sweat covering his skin, unusually complaining about muscle aches, and his appetite only consisting of a glass of water and some good sleep.

that was bad. raiden has never gotten sick in all the years you’ve known him. he wore his skin like armor — resilient and adaptable to any weather. but with the current heat waves passing through the condensed village, it only made sense for the hardworking farm boy to be too stubborn to miss a day in the cabbage fields.

nevertheless, you admired raiden for his work ethic, but most importantly his compassion and kindness. he shined so bright when there was a smile on his face. hearing his gentle voice made your eyes flutter shut and soothed throughout the whole day. your crush on the farm boy couldn’t be anymore obvious, but it seems your subtle flirting and wandering eyes went unnoticed for years.

you gently pad through the zen garden, minimal with white rocks and gravel that held the warmth of summer — your scandals were neatly placed by the entrance, footsteps much softer and less damaging to the wooden platform. raiden’s home, blared with midnight silence all while the vicious heat waves irritably hum in your ears, making you flush under your thin garments.

drop off the basket and make your way home. that was the plan.

but your nerves heightened at the source of warm light that bled through the sliding doors — shadows of objects inked all over the paper panel. it was raiden's room. he was awake?

slowly, you got closer, softly step towards the light with a nervous grip on the straw-woven handle. you froze in shock when you heard a strangled sound coming from the other side of the panel. one step. the sound was suppressed, lodged deep in his throat. closer. a rhythmic wetness, in sync with your racing heart. in front of the door. with a hoarse voice, your name desperately fell off his lips as a gushing sound followed after.

with a shaking hand, you curiously slid open the thin panel.

it’s raiden, he just jerked off on his bed while he moaned your name.

before slipping his strained hand past the waistband of his soiled underwear, he restlessly opens his eyes and sees you standing there.

did he come so hard that he was hallucinating?

it took an awkward second to realize you were in fact, real. immediately, raiden frantically covered his lower half with the bunched up covers beside him — his usual kind eyes filled with the fusion of embarrassment and guilt. if it weren’t across his room right now, raiden would’ve used his straw hat to avoid your unreadable eyes — preferably forever.

“i – uh – i can explain,” raiden finally sputtered with desperation. he was stressed, darting his wavering gaze over to the fallen fruit basket to your terrifyingly neutral expression.

he looked away, gazing down at his fidgeting, haphazardly wiped hands.

“i’m truly… truly sorry about this. you must have been uncomfortable hearing all that – if you wish to never see me, i’ll make sure to —“

“are you still sick, raiden?”

your tone was even as you entered the humid room and slid the panel door shut. he flinched at the sound of your footstep, even more so with your lack of response to his apology.

“i – i’ve recovered well…” his words seemed to fall into silence as he looked up and watched you slowly bend down and take a peach from the floor, peeling off the fuzz with delicate fingers.

“has any of madam bo’s remedies worked well for you?”

one side of the peach was peeled off, a bead of sweet juice running down the plush fruit. it gleamed under the warm lantern light and made raiden swallow in anticipation.

“yes… they have made great improvements to combat my sickness, although… i’m still suffering from a headache.”

thinking about his lengthy absence, away from his responsibilities in fengjian, away from the sense of community, away from you, led him to a troubling spiral that left his head pounding with an intense ache. touching himself seemed like the only solution at the time, especially when his worries about you transformed into a lustful yearning.

you nodded in acknowledgement, the peach extract now ran down your arm — tacky on your dewy skin. to his surprise, you took a generous bite from the fruit, the delicate floral flavor coating your mouth. a gush of juice ran down from the corner of your lustrous lips, prompting you to take a finger and catch the leftover juice, only to apply it over your lips like a sweet balm.

raiden concentrates on your alluring movements with wide eyes, thankful for his previous panicked behavior to hide his shameful actions, only for it now to hide another painfully confined boner.

pressing your sticky lips together, you tread towards the small bed to take a seat on the edge, far from the farm boy’s reach. but with you much closer than before, raiden’s rapid breathing was apparent. he’s nervous, yet there’s a sense of urgency coursing through his stiff body. he could crawl towards you if you wanted him to, he could even set aside every ounce of his pride to beg for your touch. but then your question made his flush pink while the sudden surge of blood pumping through his veins made his cock twitch.

“mind if i try one of my remedies?”

your voice is so sweet and intoxicating, replacing all his senses with sexual desire.

raiden nodded frantically.

“o – of course, please do.” then you smiled for the first time of the night.

you crawled towards him with need, immediately latching your mouth onto his. raiden sighs in relief, sloppily kissing you back in desperation, the taste of peach on the tip of his tongue. eagerly, he lapped his pink muscle over your sweet lips. his favorite fruit coating your lips, tasting it with his own mouth — he must be dreaming. you whimpered at his gentle licking, eyes fluttering shut to memorize each caress of his tongue.

to close any space between the two of you, raiden pulls away the covers and guides your flushed body to straddle him. your weight sealed tight against raiden, his hardened cock brushed along your own clothes wetness — a choked groan escaping his lips all while you swallow them into a searing sugary kiss.

in need of some air, the both of you were panting heavily as you pulled away, a shared dazed expression on each other’s faces. you were the first to laugh, lips swollen and glossy from raiden’s eager tongue. he joined in the break of sexual tension with a small chuckle, the essence of peach was still sweet on his palate. you smile warmly as you gently brushed threads of long black hair away from his flushed face — cradling his warm cheeks into your hands.

“is it fine if i continue?” you whispered against his lips, leaving a plethora of sweet pecks in between each word.

“i could never deny you.” he confesses with no sputter or hesitation to his words — genuine and sweet.

by the elder gods, you wanted to make him feel so good.

you smiled wickedly as you leaned back and adjusted yourself, grinding agonizingly slow and hard against his hot erection. raiden hisses, rough hands suddenly firm around your waist for leverage. the dimly lit room felt more humid than before, filled with desperate pants and heady sweat. summer’s heat waves didn’t help the fact that the both of you were burning with desire.

you began to undress from your silky robe, the patterned fabric pooled by the side of the bed. raiden fondly stares at your bare body, starstruck by your natural beauty. before he could remove his own damp clothing, your nimble fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt — exposing his heaving chest. for as long you’ve ever known raiden, a shirt clung onto his frame. never once showing an ounce of skin further than his collarbones. but this was something new. a well-toned stomach from his training with madam bo did him wonders. but with his even, golden tan shows that he does in fact train without a shirt — maybe after all this, you can accompany madam bo’s vigorous training.

but for now, your hands and lips ache to touch raiden everywhere. eagerly, you began to leave a trail of wet kisses and love marks all over his exposed body. raiden begins to groan with every scrap of your teeth, hands clinging desperately on his bedsheets. you smile at his impressive self-restraint, pulling away occasionally to fully memorize the details of his body. to the soft moles that scatter along his dewy marked skin, the deep contours that drew his frame, and finally the trail of coarse hair running his navel. he was perfect — so perfect.

raiden notices your intense gaze over his exposed form and shyly averts his eyes away, the grip on the cloth bed sheets giving him some stability.

you placed a sweet kiss over his navel, trailing down further as your cheeks began to graze his pubic hair, erection bumping against your chin.

“nervous?”

raiden shifts at your question and cutely nods.

“i am, but … i want to continue.” he has been waiting for this after all.

you nod at his words, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband as you carefully drag down his pants. raiden lifts his weight a bit to give you easier access — a comedic look on his face when his cock accidentally slaps your cheek when his waistband reaches down to his thighs.

“oh. i - i’m sorry.” he faintly chuckled in embarrassment, shrugging off the shirt to let it join the rest of the clothing on the floor.

you shook your head when you disgraced his pants, sitting up briefly to reach towards the nightstand.

“your excitement shouldn’t bring you shame.”

the half-bitten peach felt soft and sticky in your grasp, still supple with sweet sap.

“it just needs to be taken care of.”

raiden’s eyes perk up at the softened peach and immediately shift towards his cock. are you going to –

a sudden coldness kisses his swollen, oozing tip, dripping down on his shaft. raiden immediately moans at the foreign feeling, the delicate scent of honeyed sweetness seeping on his skin. your hands squeeze the peach a little harder, getting every ounce of sticky sap onto his twitching cock. running the fruit dry, you discarded it on the nightstand and began to run your hands down his length at an agonizingly slow pace.

your name falls prettily out of his lips with every careful pump — hips moving desperately to meet your hand. with his cock much more sensitive from the new sensation of a sticky essence and his previous orgasm, he was sure that he wouldn’t last much longer. sensing raiden’s peak, you pulled away — his hips sputter for a moment until they fell back onto the bed. raiden tried to compose himself, his shallow breaths brushing against your flushed face, progressively becoming more stable.

“don’t cum just yet, i haven’t even gotten to taste you.” you jested, shifting on your knees so that you’re at head level with his cock.

“your skill makes it hard for me not to.” raiden breathes out, a small smile on his face.

you playfully roll your eyes, brushing your hand over his fingertips — urging to guide his touch. curiously, raiden follows your gentle hold onto his long fingers until you thread them through your scalp. as he was a fast learner in combat, so was he in the bedroom. with a firm grip, raiden tugs onto the back of your head. you smiled at his new sense of confidence, the hesitation in his touch much more rough with assertiveness.

without a word, he slowly guided your mouth down onto his cock — the warm air replaced with a scorching wetness.

“shit.” raiden curses, a rarity in his usual vocabulary. his dark brows pinched together, strands of hair falling from his bun. “you are amazing.”

the small praise made your mouth water, dissolving the juice clung onto his length. raiden allows a few seconds for you to relax your mouth and begins to bob your head along his cock — careful to not let you gag just yet. the sweet taste of ripe peach and bitter precum laid deliciously over your tongue, twirling over his tip with every tug at your scalp. whimpers of your name escaped raiden’s lip as the sleek sounds of your filled mouth were in sync with one another. with your mouth adjusting to the forgiving pace, you began to suckle and moan around his cock — sending extra sensations for raiden to feel. he bites back a groan, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth and the perfect view of his hand gripping your messy hair and glossy eyes eagerly looking up at him.

even like this, he honestly found you to be breathtaking.

“you are so beautiful. oh. it just feels so good –“

raiden tilts his head up, his cock beginning to twitch in your mouth. the heady taste of cum and peach puts you into a mind numbing trance, intently suckling and licking down his length. suddenly, you gagged at the sudden graze of his tip, noticing how much further it is down your throat. your senses suddenly flood back into you, his low whines and groans much more clear.

“i – i’m close — so close.” raiden warns, his restraint begins to slowly chipping away as his grip begins to leave your scalp tender, his pace backing more grueling with each hard thrust of his hips, making you choke and tear up.

you grip tightly into his thighs, steadily breathing through your nose as his cock continuously plunges down throat. the coil in your gut burns with greed, ready to take his load. the fast building tension came so quick, you knew instantly that he was there. and with one final thrust, raiden calls out your name, hot cum spurting down your bruised throat — coating your mouth with a salty, peachy taste. his body jerks in overwhelming ecstasy, sweat collecting around his brow bone dripping down his neck. his cock softens in your mouth, making your breathing less restricting. the death grip on your scalp exchanged to a comforting massage, gently guiding your mouth to detach from his cock with a lewd pop.

your eyes met, his much more apologetic and filled with worry. as yours was filled with a satisfied haze.

“are you feeling okay?” raiden whispered in concern, making the effort to pat down the messy strands of your hair. “i was too rough on you, i’m sorry about that.”

you shook your head, laying your head over his stomach. raiden sighs in relief, although his brows still knit with concern.

“i’m fine. what about you? is your headache finally gone?”

raiden tilts his head in confusion, until he realizes what you mean. he lightly chuckles, continuing to caress your head adoringly.

“it is actually,” he genuinely admits, eyeing the crushed peach on the nightstand in amusement. “your remedy does work after all.”

you grinned at his teasing, slowly lifting up your whole body to grab one of the few sizable fragments of the fruit — pressing its sweet yellow flesh against your cum coated lips.

“if you ever feel sick again, i can try out other remedies.” you suggested, raising the sweet remnant towards his mouth.

his eyes light up before he gently grabs your wrist as he takes a bite, holding your unwavering gaze. he catches you off guard with a sudden short tug — locking into a tender kiss. raiden gently drags his tongue along the molars of your mouth and over your quivering lips. the taste of himself and the delicate floral sweetness surprisingly compliment each other.

he slowly pulled away, a trail of saliva between your lips gleamed under the warm light.

“then i hope my fever could last a little longer.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.