#telling myself from 18 months ago this and smiling

[nadvs]

the power play (part five)

pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader

rating mature 18+

summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.

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You haven’t spoken to Rafe since he angrily left your dorm three nights ago.

You’re sitting in your booked study room, waiting for him to arrive, wondering if he’ll be regretful of your argument or be ready for round two or pretend it never happened.

Either way, you’d prefer to make light of it and move on. He may no longer be your fake boyfriend, if he really meant what he said, but you’re still going to be seeing him every week.

You hope that you can just give him back his jersey and leave what happened in the past.

The guilt that Rafe has been running from catches up to him once he walks in and sees you. He blew up the other night and you met him with understanding he’s never been given before, softness he doesn’t know what to do with.

“Let’s just get it out in the open,” you say as the door clicks shut behind him. “We fought. I was expecting a bouquet of apology roses, but maybe they got lost in the mail?”

He huffs. Typical of you to make a joke about it.

He sits down, slouched back as he unpacks his things, his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He doesn’t know what to say and is relieved, for once, that you fill the silence.

“I get why you got annoyed,” you say, “but I haven't changed my mind. This doesn’t have to be weird. No hard feelings, right?”

His jaw tenses as he sets your copy of We Have Always Lived in the Castle on the desk. He got through it quickly. And he actually didn’t hate it.

He’s sure it was only because reading killed the time he’d normally had spent training, but he figures this is a good enough topic to start with.

“I finished it,” he murmurs, looking down at the paperback. “It was good.”

“Oh. Wow,” you say, perking up. “You liked it?”

He nods, earning a prideful smile from you.

“Because…?”

“It was short,” he says.

“You walked into this room, I think a month ago to the day, and looked insulted when I asked you if you liked reading,” you say. “And now you’re telling me you enjoyed a book. That’s huge. I need way more than it was short.”

“You’re being a lot right now.”

“I know.” Your smile doesn’t falter. You motion for his laptop, he hands it to you, and you open a new document. “Keep talking. What did you like about it?”

“It got to the point.”

“The prose is very clear,” you agree, typing in the note. “What’d you think of the twist at the end? Did you see it coming?”

“No.”

“This is why I love this class. It introduces you to books you might’ve never picked up,” you gush, then take a breath. “You better not be trying to trick me. You knew I’d get excited about this and forget that we argued. But I’m already over it. Okay, I’m talking too much. Your turn.”

The relief of seeing you act like you normally do has lifted the weight that’s been sinking into Rafe since the night he snapped at you.

Now that he’s with you again, confined in a room he didn’t think he’d ever not mind being in, there’s no avoiding the fact that you have an effect on him.

Against his expectations, he cares about what you think. About how you feel. And he just wants to fix this.

“You don’t know what my fights with her used to be like,” he says. “I’ve heard it all.”

You still for a moment, then rest your elbow on the table, chin in your hand as you gaze at him through compassionate eyes.

You can sympathize that not knowing what Emma said is irritating him, but you couldn’t repeat her cruel words, even if you wanted to.

“I understand,” you say, “but I can’t bring myself to tell you something that’ll just hurt you.”

“That’s my point,” he scoffs. “It won’t hurt me.”

“It could.”

Rafe sinks into the realization that he’ll just have to take the loss here. You’re not going to tell him what he wants to know, because you don’t want to wound him. Even though he kind of deserves it for his outburst.

“I know I…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know I didn’t have to lose it on you like that the other night.”

“Yeah,” you breathe a defeated chuckle. “You didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

He fans through the book just to have something to do with his hands.

You take in the remorse etched into his handsome face and you admire that even though he can be rash, he tries to clean up the messes he makes, pushing aside his ego when he needs to.

“We’re past it,” you conclude. You look at the laptop screen again, glad this will be a clean break. “Let’s write what we can about this book first and then go back to the other essay. What else did you like?”

Rafe expected that you’d bounce back after your rift. Your positivity is so relentless that it almost tires him out. But he needs to make sure you know he uttered those words out of disingenuous impulse.

“I didn’t really mean that we should end it,” he clarifies.

You look at him again, a crease formed between his brows.

“Are you trying to un-break up with me?” you tease. “This is awkward. I already started pretend-dating one of the other guys I tutor.”

“You tutor other guys?” he asks before thinking.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” you play along.

Rafe’s chest pinches. He doesn’t know why he assumed you exclusively tutored him. He thought he was the only one you see like this, the only one you ramble to and nag and joke with. Why does he hate that he’s not?

“Come on,” he murmurs, shoving past the unwelcome thought. “I know you miss me.”

You laugh. His typical brand of humor is detached and blunt and it’s nice to see another side of him, a playful side that makes him seem warm.

“I have to think about it.” You shrug. “Okay. We’re back together. I had a feeling you were just being mean the other night anyway.”

Rafe’s lips fall into a guilty frown. Without thinking, he scratches the back of his neck, grimacing and letting out a sharply exhaled fuck as his shoulder stings in pain.

“Are you okay?” you ask, serious now.

“Yeah,” he grunts.

“Convincing,” you say. “What is it?”

He sees no reason to hide it. You did tell him that he can vent to you and if there’s anyone he’d complain to about this, it’s you.

He���d rather not tell anyone on the team. Not even his closest friends. He doesn’t want to look weak.

“My shoulder’s fucked up,” he admits.

“Is it from that board check the other night?”

He nods and says, “Physio said it’s a strained muscle.”

“How bad?”

“I’m benched. He’ll look at it again before game two.”

“You mean you can’t play the first game of the championship?” you surmise.

Rafe’s tight expression tells you that you assumed correctly. You grimace sympathetically.

“Did he say if you can use anything to help with the pain?”

“Heat when it gets bad,” he says.

“I’ll be right back,” you say.

He watches you rush out, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. Moments later, you come back with an instant hot compress and place it on the desk in front of him.

“The library has a bunch of first aid kits,” you tell him, sitting back down.

“How’d you know that?” Rafe squeezes the package in one hand, the subdued pop cracking through the small room. “You really like it here that much?”

“A student of mine got a papercut once,” you explain with a laugh. “But yes, I do enjoy being surrounded by books.”

“Right,” he huffs, still in disbelief of how different you two are. “Thanks.”

He rests the package on top of his shoulder, comforting heat spilling through his t-shirt.

When Rafe lets out a velvety, satisfied groan, you find yourself flustered within half a second. Your mind sprints away from you. A mere sound has never made every inch of you tense like this before.

Your imagination can’t keep doing this to you, but it feels impossible to ignore the physical pull you’re starting to feel towards him.

You swallow hard and look at the laptop again, blinking.

This is bad.

You’re crossing the line and you need to yank yourself back into rationality. Rafe is a friend and all the affection he’s given you has been a sham and it’s disconcerting that you keep having to remind yourself of that.

You know he could never give you what you need in a relationship. The last time you saw him was cold, hard proof of that. He’s much too volatile to make a good boyfriend.

And that’s accompanied by a very big if he even likes you like that, which you highly doubt, given how easily you frustrate him. You refuse to overthink, to tumble into infatuation with another man who’ll just hurt you.

“Anyways,” you say, your eyes locked on the screen. “We really should get to work.”

════════

With ten minutes left of the session, Rafe’s laptop dies. You slide it towards him, disappointed you couldn’t upload the essay you’d just finished before the battery drained.

“Make sure to submit it before midnight,” you say. “Oh, and Lyla and Beck’s parents are hosting their birthday party on Saturday, so consider me unavailable for fake girlfriend duties that night.”

Rafe opens his backpack, pushing his laptop in as he mulls over your words. That sounds like the type of event you’d want him to come to.

“Do you need me there?” he asks.

“You were invited,” you say, “but I’ll say you were busy. You’d hate it. It’s an hour away, with a bunch of strangers you’d have to impress, and there’s obviously no way your ex would be there. I can do this on my own.”

Rafe stills before he speaks again.

“Do you need me there?” he repeats, more evenly.

It riled him up to see Emma leave the last party with another guy. To see his arm around her at the game. He hoped he’d be able to count on you to be by his side if he sees them together again this weekend.

But mostly, and more importantly, picturing you at that birthday party alone, in the same room with the guy who hurt you, all because you didn’t want to make Rafe feel forced into going, gnaws at him.

You stare at him, trying to make sense of his tight expression. It’s confusing that he’s still even in this room, asking if you want his help after you’ve given him an out.

“Are you sure?” you ask. You’re positive you’d be fine without him, but he’s sort of become a security blanket.

“I’ve… seen her around with some guy,” he tells you. “It’d be good to get away from campus. And I owe you for losing my cool the other night.”

“Do you even have a cool?” you chuckle.

Rafe glares at you, but it’s proven disingenuous by the small, dimpled smirk he chooses not to stifle.

“I hope I’m with you the next time you see them together,” you say. “Anyways, we can drive up together, then?”

Your eyes brighten with your smile. He doesn’t know if anyone has ever looked at him like that, purely and truly excited to spend time with him.

“A bunch of friends from high school will be there, and obviously Beck and Lyla’s parents, who basically consider me their daughter,” you continue, “so we’ll need to be convincing. It’s a casual dinner, then we’ll just hang out as long as we want. Can you pick me up at five?”

“Yeah,” he says. He stands up, pulling his bag over his good shoulder. “See you.”

You watch him pace towards the door, relieved that you’ll have him there, grateful that he's doing this for you even though you’re certain he really doesn’t want to.

“Hey,” you mumble. He looks at you again. You motion to his injury. “Be careful with your shoulder. And… you’re going to call me corny, but I’m really glad you’re coming.”

A few seconds of silence pass between you.

“You’re corny,” he replies.

You share a smile before he steps out of the study room into the quiet library.

Emptiness abruptly digs into his chest once he’s not with you, growing deeper the farther he walks away.

You’re unlike anyone he’s known. You don’t try to hide how much you care about him and you see things in him he didn’t know were there and you combat his temper with humor and with tenderness and with reassurance that makes him feel like he’s not irreversibly fucking up all the time.

He’s never felt like this before. Like the void he’s always trying to fill isn’t bottomless after all.

════════

Your exhale is shaky as Rafe exits the freeway with only a few minutes left of the drive to Beck and Lyla’s home.

You pull down the sun visor, gazing at your reflection. You’re suddenly quiet and fidgety after you’d chattered for most of the ride.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “And why the hell do I have to ask?”

You chuckle, catching his implication that you typically blab about what’s bothering you without him having to check in.

“I don’t know how I’m going to look their parents in the eye and lie.”

“It’s that hard to pretend to like me?” Rafe murmurs. He’s glad there’s no edge to his tone, glad he can hide that your words stung him a little.

“No,” you chuckle. “When you’re being nice, I like you. Just not like that, obviously.”

Obviously. It’s happening again, the painful crook in his core, the tangled feelings that just keep twisting together.

He used to not care if you liked him. Because he didn’t like you. But your last conversation did something to him, something that was already quietly building up, something that he needs to strip before it sticks.

After every fight he had with Emma, he sensed the palpable cracks forming between them. With you, things felt stronger once you moved past your argument.

Fuck. Why is he thinking about you like you’re his actual girlfriend, comparing his last relationship? This is the last thing he needs.

“It just feels… official. Like I’m bringing a boy home,” you continue. “Nobody’s seen me in a relationship before and they might question your intentions and I don’t want it to be weird.”

You look in the mirror again.

“And I think I’m having a bad hair day. And a bad face day. And I kind of hate my outfit.”

Rafe can’t take your nonsense. Insinuating that you’re anything short of beautiful is the most ridiculous thing he’s heard you say.

He shuts the visor and utters, “You’re doing that overthinking shit again.”

“Okay, so, that’s a perfect example of you not being nice,” you laugh.

You know if you really liked him as more than a friend, his curtness would hurt you. It’s reassuring, the realization that your attraction to Rafe will never be more than physical.

You breathe a sigh, anticipating being with your friends again after you’ve parted ways to different colleges. You wonder if anyone’s changed in the few months since.

You glance over at Rafe.

“What were you like in high school?” you ask.

“The same,” he answers.

“So, just as warm and cuddly?” you tease.

He smirks. You smile like you do every time you crack his facade. It always makes you feel a little proud.

“Better when I started playing hockey,” he relents. “How about you?”

You purse your lips in thought.

“What do you mean better?” you prod.

Rafe’s in no mood to elaborate, stiffly repeating, “How about you?”

You roll your eyes. It’s like pulling teeth, getting this man to share anything.

“I haven’t really changed much,” you reply. He finds himself thinking that it’d be a shame if you ever did.

Rafe follows the GPS to pull into a quiet suburban street. He slows down in front of the house and parks. You gaze out your window to see helium balloons surrounding the front door and reach for the handle.

“Hey,” he rasps.

You turn your head to meet his eyes.

“You don’t need to freak out. We got this. And you…” He looks away. “You look good.”

The words are tight coming out of his mouth, like he really didn’t want to have to say them.

You start to thank him, but he’s already stepping out of the car.

════════

The party is so busy that you and Rafe disappear in the crowd. He stands close by as you catch up with your friends, remembering details about where they’ve gone after graduation, asking questions, making jokes.

When it’s time for dinner, you sit next to him at the table, diagonal to Beck, who has done nothing but flash you awkward smiles here and there.

He’s hardly spoken to you. You wish you weren’t doing it again, second-guessing if he really is jealous.

You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I didn’t get a chance to say hi,” Lyla’s mother says. You smile at her and sit up to give her a hug.

“There’s a lot of people,” you say understandingly.

“My kids are too social,” she jokes quietly, leaning over. She looks over at Rafe. “You must be…?”

“Rafe,” you say. His smile is faint, but believable.

“I hope you know I have to grill you a little,” she tells him.

“I know,” he says, glancing at you. “She warned me.”

He’s playing it entirely cool. You’re relieved. You had nothing to worry about. He has this handled.

“How’d you meet?” she asks.

“I’m his tutor,” you tell her.

“Always been a smart one,” she replies, squeezing your hand. “Is that what made you like her?”

Your eyes land on Rafe again, nerves pricking your spine.

“It’s… one a lot of things, yeah,” he says.

“What else?”

Rafe’s heart thrums.

“I don’t know anyone like her.” His eyes soften as he looks at you, the amusement in them replaced by a depth you’ve only ever seen in glimpses, when his guard slips a little. “And she has a good heart.”

“She does,” Lyla’s mother says, straightening to stand. “You better treat her right.”

“I will,” he says with a nod. When she steps away, you nudge his knee with yours.

“That was amazing,” you say. Your praise gives him a high.

“I’m a great liar,” he replies.

You nudge him again, laughing.

“I don’t care,” you say. “You can’t take any of that back.”

He wouldn’t want to anyway. It was the truth.

════════

After dinner, Beck and Lyla’s mother brings out an ornate cake, prompting the room to break out in song. You watch Beck and Lyla blow out the candles as everyone applauds.

“I’ll never forget what the nurse said the day you two were born,” their father announces as he stands by the head of the table, holding a glass up. “Even when they’re big, you’ll picture them this small. And it’s true.”

He looks down, nodding curtly, lips twisting.

“Here we go again,” Lyla laughs.

“He cries every year,” you explain to Rafe in a hush.

He gazes at your profile as their dad continues his toast. He was aware you knew Beck for a long time, for years, but seeing this makes it real.

He can picture it now, you spending your adolescence in this house, making memories with this family, falling for the guy sitting on the other side of the table who brushed you off, who’s blind to how happy you make everyone around you.

The night you sat on that kitchen counter in that frat house back on campus, your eyes deepened with a sadness that hardly ever comes across your face, and you told him what you saw in Beck. What made you fall for him.

Fun. Kind. Nice to everybody.

And it’s a reminder of why this fire that’s growing inside Rafe for you needs to be put out. He’s the antithesis of the guy you’re in love with. You’d never want him like that.

“I’m so proud of both of you,” their father continues. “Happy birthday.”

Rafe looks down at his plate, wishing he’d been prepared for the wave of pain that’s crashing down on him as the sounds of conversation and dishes rattling and joyous laughter ricochet across the room.

He hates to admit it to himself, but Beck has everything he wants, down to a father who’s proud of his son.

He glances over at you again, but you’re still looking at Beck, your smile both happy and sad, your eyes trained on the one person you’re doing all of this for.

════════

The party moves to the rec room after Beck and Lyla’s parents wish everyone a good night.

Rafe’s hand is in yours as you lead him down the carpeted stairs, then settle on the plush sectional couch next to him as you chat with your friends.

He always hated his impulsivity. He was just telling himself to put out the fire, but he only throws fuel onto it when he curls an arm around your waist, pulling you closer the moment Beck walks in.

You nuzzle in, shifting to look at him again, your noses nearly bumping from how close you are.

“It’s the other shoulder?” you confirm softly, making sure you aren’t putting pressure on where he’s hurting.

“Yeah,” he says.

You nod and absorb yourself back into the group’s conversation. Your back is pressed against his chest and he hopes you don’t feel how hard his heart is pounding.

But he knows that the way you make him feel isn’t unique to him. He sees it now that you’re with your friends. You make everyone feel this way, like you want them around.

Drinks start getting passed. You look at Rafe again.

“I’m staying sober tonight,” you tell him. “Thought I should reassure you that I won’t be inviting myself over for another sleepover.”

He wants to ask why that’d be such a bad thing and it’s like he left his sanity upstairs, because now he’s wondering what the hell he’s doing wanting to flirt with you.

“Everyone’s playing,” Lyla announces as she places a box in the middle of the coffee table. “And nobody’s allowed to sit out. You legally can’t say no to the birthday girl.”

“It’s my birthday, too,” Beck says.

“Who cares?” Lyla jokes, opening the box. “It’s truth or dare. We’ll take turns picking a card and reading it out loud and if you won’t do either or you fail at a dare, you have to drink.”

“Oh, no,” you whisper to Rafe.

“Just be happy you found a way to read at a party,” he replies.

You crack a genuine laugh. His lips pull into a smile as he watches you, gratified that the joy you’re feeling right now is entirely because of him.

You feel Beck’s stare on you from his spot on the couch a couple of people away. You look up at him and he looks away and it’s like a discombobulating shove into the past, reminding you of when you’d catch him staring and let your mind run away with daydreams.

The feeling of Rafe’s arm tightening around you grounds you in reality, but it also sends a rush of heat through you and you hate that it does that.

“Truth: what's something you're glad your family doesn't know about you?” Lyla reads out. “Or dare: keep your eyes closed for three full minutes. Easy. Dare.”

She closes her eyes, then points to her right. The game continues around the circle and when it’s your turn to pick, you select a card, feeling everyone but Lyla’s stare on you.

“Truth: what’s the last excuse you used to cancel plans? Dare: don’t laugh or smile until your next turn.”

“Worst dare you could’ve gotten,” Rafe murmurs.

“You’d never manage,” your friend, Marcus chuckles.

You laugh, then laugh again when you realize you just proved both of them right.

“Damn it,” you say. “You know what? I’ll take the dare.”

You put the card down on the table and exhale deeply, trying to focus.

Rafe’s eyes flit to Marcus, whose eyes stay on you longer than he’d like them to.

“Your turn,” you say to Rafe, stone-faced.

He’d rather not play this, but he’s supposed to be acting like a good boyfriend. Besides, there’s something about disappointing you that makes him feel worse than disappointing anyone else.

He leans forward, his arm lifting off of you for a moment, and picks up a card. His hand settles on your hip again as he reclines, his bicep hard against your back.

He’s only staring at the card, so you tilt your head back to read it aloud for him.

“When was the last time you cried? Or, let someone in the room write whatever they want on you with a permanent marker.”

You look at him, holding back your smile, knowing you’re both thinking the same thing. As his girlfriend, it’d make sense that you’d be the one to mark his body.

He would never admit to crying, especially to a group of strangers. The reminder of Emma’s words, of how she’d said he called her in tears, makes your stomach drop. Suddenly, not smiling doesn’t take any effort anymore.

“Dare,” you answer for him. “I need a marker.”

“I’ll get it. Someone help me,” Lyla says, her eyes still shut as she stands. She feels for her way around the room as one of your mutual friends stands up to accompany her. “Keep playing!”

The next person starts their turn, and you take Rafe’s free hand and rest his arm across his lap, gently to not tug too hard and strain his shoulder.

It’s a shock how instinctually you did it, how touching him is natural now, yet still manages to make your heart race a little faster every time you do it.

“I’m going for a meaningful one. I’m thinking my name,” you tease, running your finger up the length of the inside of his forearm, eyes travelling over the faint lines of veins, “from here to here. Sound good?”

“No,” he answers gruffly. You crack a smirk. “And you lost your dare.”

“Don’t tell,” you mumble, forcing your smile away. “You know I can’t hold my alcohol.”

When both girls come back downstairs, Lyla blindly hands you the marker. You meet Rafe’s stare before you look down at his arm.

“The card said whatever I want,” you say quietly, mischief in your tone.

He watches you lean in, eyelashes fluttering as you blink, lips pursing in thought. The wet ink hits the inside of his wrist and his stomach goes numb when you start to slide the smooth, thin end of the marker over him, your thumb gently pressing into his skin as you hold him steady.

Rafe stares as you concentrate, and he starts to breathe a little deeper simply because the way you smell has become a comfort now, a familiarity, a hit of dopamine.

You sit up seconds later. He looks down to see Room 205 written in small, black characters. Your study room.

“You’ll never forget where to go,” you say happily. “Well, until it washes off.”

You finally meet his eyes again. He’s wearing the same concentrated look you’ve seen before, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“What, did you really expect I’d write something that bad?” you say as you snap the cap back on the marker.

The group continues with the next round, and when it’s your turn again, you have to choose between sharing your biggest insecurity or whispering a secret to someone in the room.

“Dare,” you decide, putting the card on the table and leaning back, lifting your chin to whisper into Rafe’s ear.

He slightly angles his head so that nobody can read your lips, shivers spreading over his skin from the feeling of your cheek on his.

“You’re probably my favorite student that I’ve ever tutored,” you say quietly.

It’s not a lie. Even with all his flaws, Rafe has given you something you’re not sure anybody else would have. He came into your life at the perfect time, came up with the perfect idea, and you’re deeply grateful for it.

He hastily cups your jaw, his hand so large it covers your cheek completely, as he tilts your head so he can tell you something, too. His lips brush over the shell of your ear.

“Just probably?” he whispers back. “That’s bullshit.”

You pull back, laughing, your eyes lingering on him.

“Don’t start making out, please,” Lyla teases.

You roll your eyes and look at the group again.

“I’ll spare you all the PDA,” you reply.

“Why start now?” a friend jokes.

“Yeah,” Beck quietly huffs. An ache of confusion rattles through you.

The game carries on, but Beck’s eyes linger on you. He’s never looked at you like this before. And it makes you believe what Rafe has been telling you this entire time.

════════

You leave the party holding Rafe’s hand and untangle your fingers from his the moment you’re out of the house, the moment there aren’t any eyes on you.

Rafe’s palm is cold now that your touch is gone.

Again, he’s powerless to the way his heart does whatever it wants and doesn’t give his head a chance to catch up.

He wasn’t supposed to like you.

He never expected to.

But when he looks at you as you tread towards his car together and the hushed moonlight bathes your features in its glow and you offer him that smile that makes his heart splinter in a way it never has, he yields to the truth, unable to put up a fight any longer.

He’s hopeless. You’ve pulled him under. And he had no choice but to let you.

next >

author’s note and the yearning (that eventually turns mutual) begins 🙂‍↕️

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[juletheghoul]

ache

a/n: another dope, unhinged request that sent me clean into the sun. I will have girl reciprocate in another chapter! Thanks so much for loving my version of Marcus, hopefully you like where this is going. This is un-beta'd, barely edited. All mistakes and errors are mine! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! (this is before chapter IX)

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus' pov, Marcus makes girlie squirt, *feelings*, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 1.6k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

----

He’d been away from his home for longer than he wished to be. Away from her. 

He’d been resigned to be gone for two days, three if he was being generous. That was the time he’d been prepared to spare. Those three days had stretched to three weeks.

An endless parade of niceties and feasts and courtesies extended. His presence was essential it seemed, and so he’d had to grit and bear it. He’d slept in those foreign beds and craved her warmth, her smell and her touch so much so that a rage filled him, a restlessness that only soured his mood more and more. 

Had he not put his foot down he might have been gone from his house for three months instead of three weeks. He’d fought wars quicker than this. 

Only when he was on his journey back home, back to her did the smile return to his face. Only waning when his journey had taken longer than expected, and by the time he’d finally stepped foot inside his house the moon was high, and she was sleeping peacefully in her bed. He’d watched her for a time from her doorway, almost willing her to sense him and wake. She didn’t, and he didn’t have the heart to disturb her, so he retreated back to his chambers and fell into a fitful sleep. 

Even in his dreams, she haunted him. He could smell her, feel the warm clutch of her cunt around his cock, hear her passion in his ear. He could taste her lips, could feel himself spilling inside her. 

He woke with a gasp, cock aching, heart racing and sweat beading on his brow. The moon was still bright, and the hour late, or early, he could not tell. The only thing he knew for certain was that if he didn’t go to her now, he’d die.

-

The heavy blanket of sleep shifts to gossamer, fine as silk. The dream, so clear just a moment ago slips away, forgotten as your room comes back into focus. A heavy weight presses beside you, a soft caress pulls you further into wakefulness. Too tired to be scared, you turn towards the feeling, the soft press of familiar lips at your shoulder and are both startled, and delighted to see your Dominus in bed with you. He’d been gone so long, you almost wept to be within his embrace once more. 

“Dominus, you’re home.” It’s not a question, more a sleepy, contented statement. 

“Yes, Girl, I am at last home.” You press closer, heart swelling that he would crawl into your bed with you. His passion so great, it pressed hot and hard against your belly. “I dreamt about you Girl, could not wait until morning.” His hands roamed, sweeping from your back down to grab at your ass, pulling you ever closer in the quiet dark of your chamber. 

“You dreamt about me Dominus?” You smiled into the warm skin of his neck, butterflies swarming in your belly at his confession.

“Yes Girl, I was hoping you would be awake when I got home, I wanted you so bad I ached but you were asleep and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. I found no peace in sleep, even in my dreams I craved you.” His lips descend, soft and so welcome where they meet yours, his tongue insistent. “Did you miss me Girl?” He shifts, pushing you onto your back and fitting himself between your thighs. the heft of him makes your cunt turn to liquid. The absence of him these three long weeks had been difficult, so accustomed had you become to him taking you that feeling him now could have made you weep with joy. 

“Yes Dominus, I have been so empty without you, I have missed the feel of you here–” You reach down and grasp him in hand, delighting in the gasp he breathes into your face and guide him into your soaked cunt. “I missed you here Dominus, needed you here desperately. I have gone without your gift for so long.” 

His forehead is pressed to yours, your legs bent and high on his ribs while you both catch your breath. Your heart races as he adjusts and rests on his arms, bracketed around your skull. Your nipples harden against his chest as he presses soft kisses to your face, your cunt leaks when he starts to move, a slow, but heavy thrust. His cock is so stiff, so filling that it takes a moment for you to adjust, for that stretching burn to subside.

The moans slip out with every push and pull of his hips into yours and when you move your legs a little higher and tilt your hips he hits something divine. His cock pressing against an undiscovered, almost forbidden part of you with every roll of his hips. 

“Is that where you like it?” He keeps his stroke steady, hitting the spot he knows he’s found and you can barely form a thought, all you can focus on is the fullness, on the delicious feeling in your hips, in the deepest part of you. “Answer me Girl, did you miss me fucking you?” He doesn’t speed up, only thrusts harder. 

“Yes Dominus, yes, I missed it so much–” He moans and it heightens the pleasure building in your core, in the base of your spine. His tongue is obscene in your mouth, your hands clutch at him, moving from where they clawed at his back up to curl into his waves, gripping at him like talons. 

His pace picks up, faster, harder and the feeling grows, something heavy, something altogether too big building unlike anything you've ever felt before. Big enough to almost frighten you. You pull away from his kiss, frantic to warn him. 

“Dominus, wait–something–God’s above–” You moan out because he doesn’t stop, he only shifts cat-quick to push at the back of your thigh up towards your chest, opening you up wider and hitting at that same spot harder.

It’s so loud, the wet plunge of him into the cunt he owns, the cunt that weeps and gapes for him and him alone. Your heart races, sweat beads at your hairline and his, the sound of the bed rocking with his movements; all of it ignored and unimportant compared to the feeling.

“Dominus–” your eyes drift down to where he fucks into you, hands pressing at his chest as the crushing wave inside finally crests. 

Your body pushes him out with a wet gush and a scream. Your hands claw at him, your body bows almost on its own as you soak him in your climax. He doesn’t stop, instead he holds you down, his strength showing it’s face as he fucks you through the strongest climax of your life. 

“That’s it Girl, take it, take my cock, and my gift.” He groans it, filling you to the brim despite your inability to do anything but lay there under him, soul outside your body, and shake with the force of the pleasure he’d given you. 

He smiles as he cleans himself after, moving to you to wipe down the mess he’d made of your sex.

Your legs still shake. 

“I had heard rumours in my youth that if you were skilled enough, you could pleasure a woman enough to make her burst like a fountain.” He has a smugness about him as he presses the damp cloth to your skin. You are silent still, shocked at the way he’d made you feel, at what he’d made your body do. “You are the first to prove them right. Have you ever done that before, Girl? Has any other man ever made you do that?” 

“No Dominus, I have never felt anything like that before.” A shyness creeps in, a vulnerability you don’t know how to express. Your eyes cannot quite meet his and despite the pride you can see in him, he senses it. 

“Did you enjoy it? I do not want to chase that again if you did not enjoy it.” He tosses the rag back into your basin, and slips into your bed with you, gathering you into his arms. You are grateful to feel his warmth, to have the comfort of his embrace. 

“I did Dominus, I enjoyed it immensely, I am just–I–I,” You stutter, unsure how to explain how you feel and the curiously emotional response that amount of pleasure has borne in you. 

“What is it Girl, tell me. I wish to understand.” He pulls you into the crook of his neck, his hands rubbing at your back. 

“I do not know Dominus, It is strange. The pleasure was great, greater than any other time we have lain together but it is so much more. It is as though now I am tied to you, I cannot get close enough. If you leave me here now, in this bed I shall die without you.” A shyness creeps in and warms your face, an embarrassment at the intense need you have for him now. So much more than when you are aroused.

“I will not leave you, Girl. I would never leave you. I must confess, seeing how much you enjoyed that changed me as well.” He pulls your sheet up, tucking the both of you in for what is left of the night. “There is an intense pride in me now, that I could be the one to make you feel that good.”

“You always make me feel good, Dominus.” You press your lips to his neck, rubbing at his chest while you make yourself comfortable in his embrace. 

“As do you, Girl. I was a mess while away from this house, away from you.” You smile into his neck before moving up to press your lips to his. There is no more need for words after that, instead you both fall into an easy rhythm of soft kisses, and gentle sweeps of your palms. A reacquainting of yourselves with one another, as though it’s been years since your last meeting instead of less than a moon’s turn. 

In the safety of the dark, it was okay. The lines of your roles could be blurred, you could kiss him as often as you pleased, you could press yourself closer, and speak words of devotion without fear. You could ignore that this was a slaves bed and not his place.

When morning came, you would wake alone and serve once more, but here, in the dark; that could wait. 

-

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[bernardsbendystraws]

Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL

Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

00 : midnight moonlight  

[   3 months ago   ] 

The air around me felt so fresh. I couldn’t tell if it was the fact I had finally escaped the crowd of smoke and sweaty bodies, but it felt good. Cold cement made my legs clutch together for warmth. 

“I’ve…I’ve never talked to a stranger like this,” I admit. 

Matt. He was sweet. Parties weren’t his thing either. I hadn’t even noticed him sitting five feet down from me until he had said hi. It scared me at first. A strange man, alone in the dark, with a sleeve of patchwork tattoos and a scowl painted on his features. 

“Well,” he smiles, his teeth reflecting the moonlight from above us. The same soft grin that had soothed my panic to begin with. He wasn’t intimidating at all once he started talking. “---I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anyone like this, to be honest with you. I…I don’t know….it’s been a rough day and…I think I needed this. I’m glad we met,” he remarks. 

Warmth radiates off of him while I let my shoulder relax onto his briefly. Curiosity swarms my thoughts. I hated talking to strangers. In fact, I hated everything about this. A loud party, a strange man, and bitter, unforgiving weather with a poor outfit choice. 

Was I so tired I was growing delirious? 

“I…me too. It’s been a day for me—-a week, even,” I snort. Matt swivels himself to look down at me. Sitting back up, feeling my stomach curl as his eyes gleam into mine. I feel bare. The brutal breeze does nothing to compare how stripped I feel under his intentful eyes. 

Licking between his lips, he turns his head back towards the ocean. My chest heaves with relief. “I, uh…I guess it’s just been rough? I mean, I didn’t move to LA too long ago. Just…still getting settled, I think,” I explain. 

Wrapping my arms tighter around myself, I feel my shoulders fall. Still getting settled. It had been months—four months—and there was no promise of more. I was still getting the same kind of opportunities for work, the same kind of photoshoots that made me…uneasy. 

“Tell me about it,” he suggests. 

Shaking my head, I let out a dry laugh. “I…I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Just—-let’s talk about something else. What’s going on with you, hm? What made your day so shitty?” I ask. 

Matt lets out a deep sigh. Turning his body back towards me, he shrugs. “Don’t really know, to be honest. How about….how about we just talk? We are strangers, I’m sure there’s lots we could tell each other,” he points out. 

“Um, let me think…” I snicker, pulling my lips between my teeth. “I—” Looking over, his eyes are trained on me. My words get caught in my throat as I feel the back of my neck crawl with heat, despite the freezing air. “I—why are you looking at me like that?” I mumble, looking at him from the corner of my eye as my lips curl up with a shy smile. 

His laugh echoes in the air, easing the tension that had pelted onto my skin. I feel his hand land on my knee. “Geez, you’re freezing. Here,” 

Before I can object, his sweatshirt is thrown over my lap. I bite my tongue as my cheeks flush from the innocent gesture. Darting a glance towards him, I open my mouth to object, only to have him push the fabric more onto my legs. 

“Don’t worry about it. I have a long sleeve on too. I just—I’m not gonna sit here and watch you freeze all night. Plus, this way we can talk for longer,” he admits, sheepishly pulling his face towards the view in front of us with a soft grin. 

“Well, what do you wanna talk about?” I retort. 

Matt is quick to pull his eyes back towards me, squinting with question before he starts to speak. 

“Moon or stars?” 

Thank you for reading. Any interaction is appreciated!!!

[tusk-rumours]

sweet girl ⁀➷ — sam winchester x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: sam and his girl get filthy and lovey late in the motel room.

warnings: nsfw, 18+!! explicit, a lot of smut, soft!dom sam, fingering, p in v, finger sucking, swearing, sams very very sweet. ridiculously detailed.

a/n: this is just a service to myself honestly. it’s incredibly filthy. i’m terrified to post this i’m not even sure if i like it. i also wrote this like over two months ago so this has been finished in my drafts for a while lmao

i dedicate all of my works to my super sexy writing judge @mxilkyways.

Papers and lore books scattered the table, covering the surface in so many layers that the aged wood was barely visible underneath. You stood with your thighs pressed against the side, leaning over to gather the mess, packing up for an earlyish night. 1am wasn't so bad, not compared to many other nights spent working anyway. Besides, you had something you wanted to stay up for, something you'd had on your mind. Something which you know had also been on your boyfriend Sam's, too.

It hadn't been spoken, but you knew, you could just tell by the air between you, and the way you could feel his eyes on you packing up even with your back turned. As you predicted, he eventually crossed over to the table, standing near you as he helped you sort the papers. The heat you already felt radiating off of him was intense, and your breath caught in your throat just thinking about how wonderfully overwhelming it would be to feel that heat pressed right up against your skin.

You composed yourself with a breath, trying hard not to watch his large and slender hands gather the papers, his fingers working and crooking to pick them up. Sam knew damn well how much of an effect his hands had on you, and tonight he wanted to use it to his advantage.

He purposefully let his fingers brush over your own atop the pages, his eyes flicking to your face, watching your reaction. Your skin tingles at the touch, and you smile at his attempt to tease you. You stay silent, not wanting to break first, and you continue piling your stack, keeping your eyes on the task. It doesn't take long for his fingers to dance across the pages again, this time grabbing your fingers firmly, pulling you in close to him.

You laugh, and his arms snake around your waist, an amused breath escaping his smile and fanning across your face.

"Knew you'd break first." You say, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his mess of brown hair.

"Mm, you know I just can't resist you for long, baby," he mumbles, his head dipping so his lips meet your jaw, pressing a soft path of kisses along it. You let out a breath of laughter into his ear, basking in the warmth of his arms and chest.

He squeezes your waist, his lips moving down to your neck, smiling as you squirm in his hold from the ticklishness of his warm breath.

"I should finish cleaning up, you know. Easier for tomorrow."

"That's not what you want right now and we both know it." He says immediately into your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume. "You think I couldn't tell what you've been thinking of all day? I know you, baby. I bet you're soaking already."

Your breath hitches at his words, your fingers gripping his hair just a bit tighter, eliciting a small groan from him.

"Well you haven't been too subtle either, honey," You breathe into his ear, your breathing starting to get a little laboured from his touches.

This makes him smile into your neck, and his hands roam across your lower back and hips. His lips make a quick path of kisses up to your chin, and his eyes meet yours.

"Maybe I wanted you to know just how weak you make me." He says, his breath tickling against your lips. His soft lips graze your own, and his quirk up when you try to chase them. His fingertips dance along your back, one hand climbing up your spine into your hair as he leans in again, kissing you agonisingly light.

His lips are warm and sweet, but the gentle press of them just isn't enough, and you know it's not for him either. His kisses quickly turn more hungry and passionate, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip as he holds you close, his fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head. You instantly let him in, and his tongue makes quick work of intertwining with yours, the taste sweet and hot inside your mouth. You let out breathy noises from your open mouth, and he swallows them in his own as he starts to guide you towards the bed.

"Been on my mind all day. ‘m gonna make a mess out of you tonight, baby" He mumbles against your lips, his voice low and sultry. "My pretty girl."

The mess on the table is long left discarded, your work left half tidied as his warm hands are slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, pressing up against your bare sides. His tongue is still invading your mouth and licking against the roof of it, causing soft breaths and whines to fall from your lips. His hands simultaneously work to bring your shirt up to expose your torso. Your hands untwine from his neck, nimble fingers helping him to pull your shirt up and over your head.

He pushes you gently to step back until your knees hit the bed, and he guides you onto your back gently, silently instructing you with a nod of his head to crawl back up to the pillows. As you do, he immediately crawls over you, the mattress dipping as his palms press into the pillow on either side of your head.

Before you can get a word in he's attacking your neck, his lips nipping and sucking at your skin feverishly and you gasp at the feeling, your hands quickly finding his hair again. When he hits your sweet spot, that sensitive patch of skin beneath your ear and starts biting and kissing, you let out a whimper, instinctively pulling on his hair. He groans, his hand moving to your cheek, cupping it in his large hand firmly. When you pull again he moans, his tongue pressing flat against your skin to soothe his bites.

"God, honey—" He chokes out, his words slightly muffled through his relentless work on your neck.

You start to squirm under him, the sensation of his hot mouth on the side of your neck and his hair tickling against your face becoming too much to bear. Your hands slide down his back to the hem of his shirt, tugging desperately. He lifts his head at your silent request, and he smiles, relishing in the way you ask without saying a word.

"You want this off, huh honey?" He says a little breathlessly, his lips red and swollen from his consistent attack on your neck.

You nod, your chest heaving, breathing out a whispered 'please'. He sits back, his hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls it off quickly, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and you're in a daze, drinking in his broad shoulders and perfect skin.

He crawls over you again, his bare chest now hovering above you, and you somehow feel even hotter from the almost tangible pull you feel from his body and the sight in front of you.

You can't help but press your palms flat to his chest, just exploring his warm skin and sturdy chest with your hands, and his fingers are moving through your hair, his fingertips brushing down your neck so lightly it's ticklish, and all you want is just to feel even more of him.

You plant your lips against his jaw, leaving messy, hot kisses to his skin, your palms pressing firmly up the slope of his neck. He lets out a shaky breath into your ear, his large hands caressing your chest and torso, his fingers feeling against the lace of your bra. You arch your back as his fingers travel across your sides, giving him access to the clasp on your back. He makes quick work of it, gently pulling the garment down your arms and away from your chest, handling you so delicately, because he just wants to worship you.

Once your bra is discarded on the floor, he sits back for a minute, his large hands resting against your ribs, his eyes widening with pure admiration and lust as he stares down at your bare upper body.

"Jesus, honey. You're so beautiful." He breathes. "Can't get enough of the way you look, all pretty."

He reaches a hand up, a finger lightly tracing your collarbone, until it moves along to trace along the necklace sitting against your chest. His fingertips lightly play with the pendant, a small smile on his lips as he admires the necklace he got you so long ago sitting pretty on your neck.

His fingers travel up your neck, and suddenly he's caging you again, his chest and pretty face returning to view above you. His hands are placed on either side of your head again, and when he leans down to capture your lips with his, you try to meet him halfway, only to be yanked back by his palm accidentally planted firmly on your hair that's strewn across the pillow.

You wince, letting out a soft noise of pain followed by a laugh, and Sam's instantly in panic mode, lifting his hand and smoothing out your hair, thumbing your cheek.

"Shit— i'm so sorry, hon, jesus— are you okay?" He rambles, and you laugh, taking one of his hands in your own to stop his fretting. Now that your hair's freed from his accidental hold, you lean up, capturing his lips with yours, the kiss is messy from your amused smile and giggles against his lips.

"'m sorry" He mumbles against your lips in between kisses.

You hum when he eventually smiles back, and you pull him down so you're head's back against the pillow, deepening the kiss.

His lips leave yours, to press an abundance of quick and sweet kisses all across your face in an attempt to soothe the accidental pain he caused. Starting at your chin, he works his way across your cheeks, nose and forehead. He lets out a breathy chuckle against your skin when your giggles become louder, your cheeks reddening, which only causes him to kiss them more, loving how hot your skin is underneath his lips.

His hands are still smoothing out your hair, his hands now cautious and somehow even more gentle as he caresses your cheekbone, his thumb and forefinger dipping down to your chin to lift your head slightly, capturing your lips again in a kiss somehow deeper than the last.

His hands cascade down your shoulders and collarbone, before settling on your breasts, his large palms covering the entirety of each of them. Slowly, he begins to knead them, squeezing and pressing his fingertips into the soft flesh. You moan softly into his mouth, your back arching into his palms.

His thumbs move across your breasts to gently circle your nipples, and you whine, the slight pressure making you shiver. He presses the pads of his thumbs a little harder, before his palms caress the entirety of your chest again, his lips leaving yours to nip a path down your neck, his tongue flattening against your pulse point, just feeling the rapid pace of it. He kisses down your collarbone, the sound of both of your laboured breathing filling the air.

"Sam..." You breathe his name out desperately, his hair now tickling against your chin.

Finally, his mouth dips down to your chest, his lips dragging across your skin until he takes your nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking as his tongue licks across it slowly, fully enveloping you. You moan at the feeling, grabbing onto him tighter as his hand works on your other breast simultaneously. You cry out when his teeth nip at your nipple, and he smoothes the sting with his tongue.

"You're unreal, honey," He breathes against your chest, his warm breath tickling against your sensitive skin. He continues sucking with an intensity, until you're squirming, your legs shifting against his, in a silent, physical plea for more.

Sam would give you anything you want in a heartbeat, especially when you're like this, all soft and needy underneath him. His hands and mouth dip down, his palms and fingertips running down your ribs and stomach, his eyes locking with your own as he reaches the waistband of your jeans, silently asking for permission. You nod immediately, your chest heaving in anticipation. His lips quirk at your desperation, and his nimble fingers work at the button and zipper.

"Lift your hips up for me, baby," He says softly, and you oblige, lifting them so he can carefully pull down your jeans, slowly pulling them down your legs until they're off, and lying in a heap on the floor. He kneels in between your legs, a hand grazing against your lower belly, and your skin shivers underneath the touch, the cold air against your clothed core making you hiss lightly.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, his thumb rubbing against the lace. His eyes flick up to you.

"This okay, sweetheart?" He questions. His constant checks for consent and permission despite how many times you've done this never fail to make you just turn into a puddle right there on the sheets.

"Mhm" You nod, a gentle smile on your lips, as he smiles too, hooking his fingers on his other hand underneath now too, and you lift your hips to help him slowly pull your panties off your legs, discarding them along with your jeans.

His hands make a path from your ankles up to your knees, his palms covering the entirety of your knee caps as he gently spreads your legs apart, his eyes glued in awe at the glistening sight between them.

"Fuck, baby, I knew it. You're soaked." He lifts a hand, running his index finger through your folds, and you let out a breathy hiss at the sensation.

"So wet for me honey, god—" He breathes, and suddenly he's hovering over you again, his large palm cupping your core, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your hips bucking up into him.

When he starts to rub your clit you mewl, and his soft voice is in your ear, his fingers gently caressing the hair on the top of your head as his forearm rests beside it.

"Shh, honey, doing so good f'me, shh..."

He presses his forehead against yours, his soft breath fanning against your face as the pads of his fingers gently circle your clit, the pressure firm yet soft.

Only once you're squirming and knocking your knee against his leg do his fingers slide lower through your folds, his fingers prodding at your entrance. His index finger circles it as he looks into your eyes, making sure he has your full attention on his as he slowly pushes a finger into you.

"Sam...hah—” You whisper out his name, a sharp gasp following as his finger gently plunges in deep, until it disappears almost entirely to the knuckle. You let out a shaky moan when his long finger slowly slides out again, and you whine at the loss of it, which is cut short by a small cry as he plunges in again, a little faster this time.

"Good girl, mm...look at you, so wrecked just from one finger....I wonder if...?" As he trails off, he adds a second finger into you, watching as your eyes squeeze shut tighter, groaning softly. He lets out an approving hum, his fingers slowly crooking and curling deep inside of you.

You cry out even louder than the last when his fingers brush against your sweet spot, and your moans get even more whiny as he repeatedly nudges it more firmly. You feel yourself getting close, as you flutter around his long fingers.

"Look at me, baby." He breathes out, and when you open your eyes, they immediately lock on his above you, blown out with adoration and lust.

"There's my girl. I wanna see you come for me, sweet girl." He says softly, his voice rough with arousal.

You nod, your foreheads still pressed together, your expression contorted in sweet pleasure as you whine and gasp under him.

When he crooks his fingers in that perfect way again you tense up, your whole body washing over with pure pleasure, down to your extremities. You cry out his name in desperate whimpers, his smile watching you come only making you flutter around his fingers harder.

He gently slows his movements as you relax against the mattress, carefully extracting his fingers from you, watching your expression closely, taking in the way you whine at the loss of him.

Once his fingers are exposed again do you both take in the way his fingers are soaked with your slick, practically glistening. He smirks, his eyes flicking up from his fingers to yours. Once he's sure he's got your attention, he sensually brings his fingers up to his mouth, letting the underside of them slide along his tongue before he wraps his lips around them. He closes his eyes and hums and moans in pleasure, as he licks and savours the taste of you on his fingers.

Your jaw falls slack in a silent moan at the sight, what he's doing in front of you just so incredibly hot you're sure you can probably come again just by watching him. He doesn't stop, wanting to savour and taste every last morsel of you on his fingers. You sit up, taking his wrist in your hand, pulling his fingers out of his mouth before you're guiding them into your own, your eyes looking up, locked on his.

You relish in the way he lets out a choked breath, a soft moan falling from his pretty mouth as he watches your lips wrap around his fingers, dragging them fully into your mouth, maintaining eye contact as you suck on them.

"Jesus, honey," He breathes, his eyes widened as you let your tongue slide along his fingers, tasting the last remnants of your arousal on them.

His thumb brushes against your jaw, mesmerized by you. Eventually, you give his fingers one last long lick, before pulling your mouth away from them. He's in a daze, fully captivated by just how unbelievably hot you are, until he's pushing you down onto your back again, quickly shedding himself of his jeans till he’s bare. He sighs at the relief of freeing himself from the tightness of his jeans, the sight of how hard he is making your mouth go dry. His skin is hot and flush against yours as he settles and murmurs above you, his voice heavy.

"So fucking sexy, baby, jesus," He caresses your soft hair with one hand, while his other his trailing down your body, from your collarbone down to your hips, before he's reaching for himself in between the two of you.

He slides the head along your folds, and you hiss, feeling as he glides so easily from just how insanely wet you are.

"Ready, honey?" He asks, watching closely for your response. You nod quickly and desperately, whispering back.

"Please, Sammy."

"Okay, I got you, honey. I got you." He murmurs back, lining himself up as he slowly pushes into you. You gasp at the feeling of how he stretches you out perfectly, and just how good he feels inside of you. You whimper softly as he continues to slide in slowly, listening to his groans above you.

"Fuck, Sam— you're so deep." You breathe out as he pushes the entire way in.

"Yeah, baby? You feel me all the way up here?" He moves his hand, his fingertips lightly pressing against your stomach.

You gasp at the added pressure, your fingers clawing into his broad back. He lets out a breathy chuckle, leaning down to press gentle kisses to your face, waiting for you to adjust to the stretch of him.

"You okay, honey?"

"Mhm," You nod, your forehead brushing against his, your fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips make their way to yours, capturing them in a soft and loving kiss.

"I love you," He murmurs in between kisses. You melt, lifting a hand to his cheek.

"I love you too. So much." You mumble against his lips, and he kisses you again, all sweet and loving.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," You breathe, nodding. Slowly, he starts to pull out, until only the tip is still inside of you, before sliding back in at a taunting speed, and you can feel everything.

You moan loudly into his ear, your arms wrapping even tighter around him. His hips move against you at the perfect pace, lewd sounds filling the room.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. You like how I fill you up, hm? Like how I stretch you out so good, honey?"

You moan at his words, somehow getting even wetter at how filthy he can speak to you when you're together like this. You curse, your brows furrowed in ecstasy, nodding pathetically against him. He speeds up his movements, gripping your hips to angle them in a way that lets him bury into you even deeper.

When he presses against that sweet spot, you cry out, loudly, your head thrown back in pleasure against the pillows. He hits it again and again, and you feel your release creep up on you, your walls fluttering and clenching around him even more intensely, which makes him moan into your ear, hissing in pleasure.

"Oh, Sam— Sam" You breathe out, your fingers tapping at his shoulder.

"I know, baby, I know. Come for me, wanna feel you." His voice is gravelly and breathless in your ear, and when he slows right down, you mewl, and you look like you're about to burst into tears. You cry out and press your head to his when he plunges back into you, deeper and more forceful than his previous ministrations. When he hits that spongy spot inside of you again, that does it.

You cry out loudly, your body tensing up once again, your walls fluttering violently around him, your body shaking as you ride out your release.

"Fuck— wanna fill you up, honey," He mumbles as his hips stutter against yours.

"Mm— please" You manage to breathe out as you're wrapped up in your high.

Feeling you orgasm around him is what pushes him over the edge, and you feel his release, the warmth of his cum coating your walls. He fucks into you a few more times, riding out his own high and pushing his release further into you.

His warm body collapses against yours, and you let out a breath, a euphoric smile on your face. He buries his head into your neck, and your hands rub against his back, feeling as it heaves and shudders.

"So good, honey, god, just perfect." He manages to rasp out through his laboured breaths. He lifts his head, locking eyes with you, his expression full of love. He brushes the hair that's stuck to your forehead away from your face, resting his hand against your cheek, leaning down to capture your lips with his once more. The kiss is long and sweet, and you can tell he's pouring all of his love for you into the gesture.

"Can I pull out, pretty girl?" He mumbles against your soft lips, and when you hum in approval, he slowly pulls out of you, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. He looks down in between your legs, his lips kicking up into a smile.

"God, sweetheart, I did make a mess of you." He huffs out a laugh, his hand caressing your thigh gently. His head dips down to press a tender kiss to your knee, and his hands continue to rub at your thighs and hips.

"Let me clean you up, baby," He murmurs. But before he disappears to the bathroom, he's leaning over you again, his hand moving to press against your cheek, his thumb rubbing underneath your eye and along the slope of your nose lovingly.

"My sweet girl," he murmurs, almost under his breath. "I love you, honey."

[dollfacefantasy]

Restless Dreams

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream

word count: 3.6k

a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.

“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”

You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.

It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 

Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.

“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.

“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”

“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.

A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.

“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 

He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.

“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”

“I better,” you grumble with a smile.

“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”

“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.

“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.

“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.

“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.

The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.

Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.

Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.

And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.

Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.

Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.

You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.

Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.

He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.

It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.

He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.

His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.

He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.

Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”

But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.

He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.

At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.

You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.

It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.

“Please.”

He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.

Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.

He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.

In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 

You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.

In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.

You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.

“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.

More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.

Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.

The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.

“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.

“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.

“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.

“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.

You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.

You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.

“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.

You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.

You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.

“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.

The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.

“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.

His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.

“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.

“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”

Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.

“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.

He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.

His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.

“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”

As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.

He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.

“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.

Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.

He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.

“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”

You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.

“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”

He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.

“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.

He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.

“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.

“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.

You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.

He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.

“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.

“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.

He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.

After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.

“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.

That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

Click here for Series Masterlist.

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

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18 (MINORS DNI) smut, virgin reader!, unrequited love, heavy angst, reader gets hurt, kinda friends with benefits, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, language

Word Count: 7216

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'WASTE' by Kxllswxtch

Dean's eyes narrowed as he treated your wounded hand; you smiled a little to yourself as he talked about how you sometimes behaved recklessly. If only he knew how much you cherished the moments when he protected you during a hunt.

You had been with him and Sam for a year now, and it was difficult to resist falling in love with him. You weren't sure when you fell in love with him, but you sensed it from the moment he smiled at you, or maybe in a random moment. Every time you glanced into his green eyes, you felt a sense of admiration. You had absolutely no complaints. 

He complained as he was working to treat your wound, “You must know, I will consider kicking you out of the team if you keep acting like that.”

It began to rain in your house's weak light. Your heart was filled with fright as he took care of your wound in your house, where you were alone, and it seemed so calm; you were afraid of losing that precious, fragile time with Dean, not of ghosts. You weren't afraid of ghosts. 

You asked naively, as if you had no idea what he was talking about, “Like what?” When he grabbed your hand too tightly unintentionally, and that sudden moment hurt you a bit, you attempted to draw it in toward yourself with a pained gasp. 

With a look of regret on his face, you looked at him with understanding. 

“When I tell you to get behind me, you must do what I say, or when I tell you to stop, you must stop.”

“Remember the previous case in point,” you sighed. “If I did what you told me, we'd both be dead.” You looked up to see how he was feeling. 

“It was only a single exception,” Dean immediately defended himself, rolling his eyes at you. 

“However, if I had listened to you, I would have been killed. You too,” you mutely remarked. You weren't attempting to put the blame on him. You were aware that he was guarding Sam and you constantly. You dropped your eyes to your eyes as he looked at you, feeling instantly overwhelmed and overpowered by his piercing stare. “I promise that when I go hunting, I'm not being careless. I truly listen to you, but you must have some degree of faith in me. Since I joined you and Sam months ago, I'm convinced he has more faith in me.”

You wanted Dean to think highly of you, someone whom he could always trust, just as you trusted him with your life. You wanted him to trust you, your strength, and your feelings. Even if you were quite successful, you felt that he still seemed to be unsure about you.

This time, instead of cracking one of his jokes to lighten the mood, he seemed to be deep in focus. When he appeared so confused and like he was in pain on the inside, you wondered what exactly he was thinking. Though you didn't think you could stop him from ruminating at that moment, you still wanted to help him if he was in pain, calm him down if he was feeling anxious, and comfort him if he was feeling uneasy. 

The sense of worthlessness was an emotion you wanted to stay away from. 

When he noticed that you weren't as happy as you had been minutes before, he stated in a dry voice, “I don't want you to get killed or hurt because of me. I do trust you, but you have to stop acting reckless and try to save me by endangering yourself.”

“I wasn't putting myself at risk. You're exaggerating,” you said as you continued to examine his hands while he continued to take care of your wounded hand. 

“You're very stubborn, aren't you?” In an attempt to soften the thick air, Dean smiled back weakly. 

You chuckled and tried to catch his gaze by raising your head as you drew nearer and moved on to where you were sitting. “But Sam thinks I'm the easiest one to get along with and easiest to persuade,” you said. 

Dean winked at you suspiciously and said, “Hey, I guess you were right about something.”

“About what?” 

“He's dumb when it comes to reading people, huh?” 

You muttered, “Asshole,” and gave him a little leg kick. It made him laugh, which made you joyful. 

Dean let go of your hand, gave you a long, odd smile, and checked his watch after making sure you were okay and being well taken care of. You could feel the joy leave your body when you realized he wasn't going to stay or anything. You had no idea how to get him to stay with you, at least for a day, at your home. Still, he was always on the move. It's fortunate that he didn't hear how quickly your heart was beating, how much you wanted his touch, and everything else.

You said in a hushed tone, as if you didn't give a damn whether he said ‘yes,’ but you cared like crazy. “You can spend the night in here if you wish.”

“I think I have other plans for tonight,” he remarked, flashing you his adorable grin and a wink. “We move so much throughout the day. The town must have missed me.”

You chuckled slightly and said, "By whom exactly, Mr. Loverman?” You noticed that the rain was falling more quickly through the glass. 

Dean gave you a haughty look and stated, “By ladies, of course,” which made you jealous, but you didn't want to show it to him and ruin your friendship.

Playing with the fabric of your sweatpants, you said, “Boys. They come and go.” You attempted to ignore the vivid images of Dean with other women that were playing out in your head. It was unavoidable, but you didn't want to get jealous and mess up everything. “New ones appear all the time. Don't be worried about the women who missed you.” 

He smiled and replied, “You're a smartass, aren't you?” You felt encouraged to continue since he didn't appear to be offended or anything.

“And you're overconfident in yourself. Have you yet to be rejected by someone? Not even once?” You said it inquisitively. 

“Just once,” Dean remarked humorously. It eluded you whether he was being serious or joking. At times, it was difficult to understand him.

You tried to chuckle as you remarked, “Must be fun.”  You sounded like you were going to choke though.

Dean spoke for a little while before attempting to get up and leave your home, but the electricity unexpectedly cut off, leaving you gasping in surprise. You backed away from him with a shy grin, not because you were afraid, just because you realized you had touched his knee. 

You said, “Ah, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop soon,” and to your relief, he sat back on the seat. As it was pouring heavily, you expressed your gratitude to God and Michael for their generosity and compassion, which you felt had come once in a lifetime.

At least once, you prayed that night's rain would never cease so Dean wouldn't go. 

"Yeah," he said in a dry voice. It was your hope that he wouldn't feel stuck with you and let down. Dean was aware that although you weren't terrified of ghosts, you were fearful of being alone yourself in the dark. “Do you want me to light a candle?”

You timidly replied, “I guess I don't have any.”

“All right.”

“Are you still planning to leave or spend the night?” You tried not to seem enthusiastic as you asked, but with anticipation. You hoped that his ability to read your face in the dark would be poor.

“I suppose it's best if I stay with you. You're a lovely young girl who, in the end, is more terrified of the dark than ghosts. As a gentleman,” he murmured, moving to a more comfortable position on the coach. “It's my responsibility to protect and repay you tonight, don't I?”

You laughed as though he had made a joke, but in reality, you were only finding it difficult to hide your happiness at his answer that he would stay. The angels seemed to fill your heart with such incredible bliss. If it would force him to spend his time with you in that manner, you may put yourself at ongoing risk. You wished he understood how much you valued each and every word he said.

“How about you, though?” Dean asked out of the blue. Although his face was concealing himself in the darkness, you could tell by the tone of his words that he was perplexed. 

You asked, perplexed, not understanding what he was talking about, “What about me?”

“I haven't seen you with...someone in a long time since you joined us,” he said. You may argue that he spoke slowly in order to carefully select his words so as not to offend you or cause you distress. “Actually, I've never seen you with someone nor heard you talking about anyone.” 

You attempted to give him a confident smile, but all you managed to do was give him off an odd look. “Uhm,” you stammered out while attempting to think of anything to say without looking foolish. “Those hunts are challenging and exhausting.” You attempted to explain to him, “I'm not interested in seeing someone right now, and I can't find time for myself.” You were hoping he wouldn't dig too much.

You weren’t the best when it came to lying. 

As if he wasn't okay with your explanation, he grumbled, “We've been staying here for a month, and we are not even that busy.”

You wouldn't tell Dean that you were an inexperienced one in your mid-20s, as you knew he was very skilled with women. You just could not possibly make yourself look so foolish in front of him. You were unsure what he would think about you. Definitely, it was best to remain silent.

You said, “I'm just not interested and feel like I have no time for anyone,” trying not to sound like lying. Although it wasn't a total lie, how in the world could you admit that you were truly interested in someone, him, and that's the reason you weren't interested in anybody else?

You wanted he could read the words on your lips and your voice so you wouldn't have been trying so hard to explain things to him while hiding yourself away from him for so long.

Love was something that both wanted to be hidden and to be revealed. It was complicated and bizarre.

Dean finally responded, “You're right, actually,” after giving you a long stare. “You should avoid things that might distract the focus of your attention. Men might easily split your soft and lovely heart in half.”

You asked, irritated, “Why do you say that?” You always believed that since you avoided people so well, nobody would ever consider hurting you or anything like that.

As he moved a little closer to you, Dean smirked and remarked, “Like you say,” which made you tense. You couldn't see him well, but his smile was joyful. Before continuing, he arched an eyebrow and nibbled his bottom lip. “I'm ladies' man. I read women really well, and you're easy to see through.”

You said to him, “You really are a ladies' man. But I'd say you are illiterate.” 

Dean gave you a small chuckle and made the decision not to push you too far or make you feel more shy. And anyhow, he wouldn't allow you to talk about males, not right now. You did not require guidance since you did well on your own. “Hey, I see that you’re a little sharp today. After taking care of your wounded hand, I made the decision to spend the night with you and look how you treat me. You're being ungrateful.”

He made a false furious look at you, and you couldn't stop laughing. “You do realize, though, that I have once again saved your ass. I'm beginning to feel like you must repay me for acting as your guard. Like an angel.” You gave him a little smile and added, “That means something, right?”

Dean said, “It does,” with the same lighthearted tone as you, his eyes examining your face up close in the dark as your smile slowly faded from the corners of your lips.

You gasped in surprise and fright when an unexpected lightning strike struck with such force it seemed like the sky had been split in half. Dean laughed, seeing as how you really jumped on the coach. 

“I can't believe you're not afraid of ghosts, witches and all, but just some raindrops,” he stated in astonishment. Your pulse beat like crazy when you felt his breath close to you, but Dean probably assumed it was because you were frightened.

Both of your arms and legs touched, but you tried not to react. “I'm not afraid of rainy weather or something,” you replied. “It's normal to be jumpy when an unexpected noise like lightning appears.”

In an attempt to annoy you, Dean said in a persuasive voice, “It was just simple lightning. Many things might come as unexpected. You can't always get scared.”

You said, “Like what things?” as if in plea. 

You stared at his wonderfully shaped lips in the darkness as he spoke in a whisper. Your lips felt so dry that you wanted to lick them. Although you hoped he didn't notice, at that point you weren't really worried. Yes, you were a virgin with no prior experience, and you were very determined to keep your body and mind closed off to others, but things seemed different when you met Dean. It wasn't that you were old-fashioned-minded; you just wanted to be with someone you cared for, someone you loved. 

You were aware that the desire to be near him was more than simply passion; you wanted to touch his face, jaw, hair, and every other part of him. Your soul yearned to be near him desperately. 

Dean failed to notice when another lightning strike made you jump. It wasn't the finest moment for him to think clearly. There was always something enjoyable to do. Given that you've known each other for a while and that it must have been a while since you allowed someone to touch you, it seemed appropriate to blow off steam with each other. It was, after all, a difficult and somewhat tiresome a few hours earlier. 

Just when you thought you were going to pass out, Dean suddenly captured your lips and began to give you an urgent, intense kiss. Yes, you were somewhat inexperienced, but at least you've had a kiss. Quite some time ago, indeed. You made an effort to calm down, returned his kisses with your best effort, let your racing thoughts disappear into the darkness, and gave yourself over to that single perfect moment. 

You sucked Dean's lower lip, and your fingers stroked his jaw as his skillful tongue dominated yours. He must have been encouraged by your response because he moaned a bit as he shoved you back on the coach and pushed you to lie under him. He kept giving you firm kisses throughout.

His muscular neck was stroked by your hands as you drew him in between your knees. You shuddered as he put his body between your legs. It was the realization that your body was missing something that you were unable to identify. Your entire body exuded passion and desire. It hurt to need Dean so much. You had no idea how you had been able to contain yourself for so long.

You were longing to touch him all over.

Dean moved his lips to your throat, allowing you to take a deep breath. You were unable to contain a giggle as he violently sucked on your neck and throat. You realized you were sensitive there.

“Don't keep those lovely noises from me. Are we not the only ones alone in here?” While he boldly touched your skin beneath your shirt, Dean whispered. Though you urged yourself to relax down a little, you felt like your heart would burst at any minute.

It was possible that he might back off if you revealed to him that you were a virgin. It was certain that he would. You attempted to pretend that you had experience too and that it had simply been a long time because he was just interested in hook-ups, and that's what you were going to go through. It hurt to admit it, but maybe things would change.

You never would have imagined that you would feel that way about Dean, and you refused to miss the opportunity to be with him by telling him you weren't deflowered just yet. All you had to do was appear bold and avoid raising suspicion with your awkwardness.

Your cheeks flushed red, but at least the room was completely dark, keeping your almost scared gaze and timid finger movements hidden from him.

Your hands gently slipped inside his t-shirt, touching every muscle in so as to savor it. Your breath quivered with anticipation as your palm brushed every part of him. You could never let someone else touch you in the same manner that Dean did. 

Dean's eyes were on you, and as he nibbled your lower lip, you urged him to remove his shirt. You could see he was smiling a little bit when he pulled it off. That you were prepared to go one step beyond thrilled him. 

You must have pushed your injured hand a little bit hard when you gasped in little pain after both of your hands reached his back and you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles beneath your palms. 

“Hey, be careful and take your time there. Remember that all you are is a wounded gazelle under my mercy. You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?” As he worked on your clothing, Dean said in amusement.

You moaned in surprise as one of his hands slipped into your shirt and gave you a strong grip on your nipple. “Maybe I am,” you murmured, almost laughing, but the noise you made turned into a moan. 

You made a little movement beneath him. It seemed as though your body needed something from you or him, but you were completely unaware of what was going on. All you knew was that you were desperate for Dean to do something. 

You gasped somewhat alarmed as your nipple hardened between his skilled fingertips. As he slid on top of you and played with your tits, you got excited more and more, assuming that he wanted this as much as you did. You thought for a moment that it was actually romantic considering it was all dark and raining like hell outside, like the whole heaven wanted you to be with him.

You nailed Dean's back with boldness, crushed your lips to his once more, kissing him with desire while trying your hardest not to show Dean how shy you were in fact. It relieved you to hear him groan a bit in your mouth. You moaned quietly into his lips as soon as his thumb started playing with your nipples once again. 

Dean moved quickly to help you remove your shirt by pulling back. You were shivering a little, but even though he was making your skin hot, you would have blamed the room's cool temperature if he had asked.

His lips made their way to your nipples, where he expertly sucked them with his tongue. Your back arched as his lips nibbled your breasts delicately, and you forgot about your envious thoughts about how many other women he had treated like this. This time, you were unable to stop your loud moan from filling the room. 

Dean gave both of your nipples little licks and a firm kiss after sucking your tits for many minutes, making them slippery with his spit, and making you cry out beneath his body. You didn't know how pleasurable it was to be with someone doing such things.You were aware that you were attempting to create friction by placing your leg on his hip. 

He whispered to your lips, “I bet you're fucking dripping there,” as his hands gently moved into your sweatpants. He was trying to see every expression on your face in the dark. His voice was rough as he asked, “Are you wet enough to take me?”

You managed to say something like “Hmm,” which is sufficient. “I think I am.” 

“We must be sure,” Dean remarked in a lighthearted manner. “Let's see.” 

Dean slid his fingers slowly inside your sweatpants. He was grinning a little over you when he heard your heartbeat. As you waited for what was going to happen, you gripped onto his shoulder.

His fingers touched your underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise as he gave you a soft touch. Every second, you felt like you were becoming wetter. You believed you might orgasm at any minute since your clit was so sensitive to him. You wanted more because of how ethereal and gentle his hands were. You needed to raise your hip to him and squeeze his bisceps in order to receive what your body craved. 

Satisfied, Dean moved your underwear aside as he watched you twitch under him in desperation. He rubbed your clit some more, then used two fingers to feel how wet you were. 

Dean kept pushing back on his groan. He said in surprise, “Fuck, I knew you'd be wet, but you are literally leaking there.” You had no idea whether or not it satisfied him. All you wanted to do was the right thing. Regardless of what it was. 

You lied when you said, “It's been very, very long,” since you had no idea what to say. The way he responded truly made you feel a little awkward. 

You felt better after sharing quick kisses on the lips with him. “Good,” was Dean's sharp reply. “How many times can I get you to come to me tonight? You deserve appropriate treatment in light of the effort you have been doing these last few months, you know. I must reward you.”

Encouraged, you had a blossoming sensation of bliss and anticipation in your chest. You wished that light would never return and that you and him would always be in the dark together in that very moment.

He touched you during hunts and other times to make jokes, but you didn't used to be physical like that. Watching him being intimate with other women except you was agonizing. But now you knew you could touch him whatever you pleased right now. Just like you imagined when you thought about him, you touched yourself. 

Dean palmed your moisture in his hand, causing you to both pant into each other's mouths. You felt a little uneasy as one of his fingers began to gently press into your entrance since you weren't sure if it would hurt that much or not. You just didn't tell him anything since you didn't want to spoil things. All you did was wait expectantly.

He said, “You're a tight one, aren't you?” as he kept his finger inside of you. You were glad Dean wasn't being swift with you. You withdrew your lips from biting and captured his, pushing him into doing what he needed or desired as well. 

Dean expected that you would be tight, but he didn't anticipate that level of tightness. He was taken aback by how tightly your walls clamped around his finger, and he couldn't help getting thrilled at the thought of feeling your cock around him. He was shivering with excitement coursing through his veins. 

You bit your lip hard in pain as he pressed his thick finger a little further. You didn't make any sound that might have stopped him. Dean would stop in an instant, you knew. 

He must have realized how uncomfortable you were, though, because he began to touch your clit more in an effort to prepare you to become accustomed to him and make you wet enough to take him. 

As he worked on your clit, he remarked, somewhat smirking, “It seems we need to get you ready for me; otherwise, it might be painful a bit for you.”

“I'm prepared. Really,” you said, lifting your hips in the course of action. “You can go on.”

Dean groaned a bit and pressed his finger inside again. He used extreme caution. You whimpered and attempted to make yourself quiet by stealing kisses from him to silence your whimpers. 

Dean withdrew his finger and then thrust it back, not allowing you to say something. His abrupt movement caused your lips to parted in pleasure and enthusiasm. Even though there was still some discomfort, it was soon overshadowed by pleasure and desire as he began to properly finger you. You grabbed onto his shoulders because your pussy hurt from yearning. You tried to put your groaning mouth into Dean's, but he wouldn't let you kiss him. 

You could not help but let a moan out in ecstasy as your back arched when he gently pushed another finger and began to fuck you with them. You made a valiant effort, but it was impossible to avoid coming so quickly and effortlessly.

Dean moaned, “Give it to me,” realizing that you were making it difficult to come. “Come to me now. You're almost there; I know that.”

As soon as your climax hit, Dean grabbed your lips and planted a passionate kiss on it as he touched your chin with one hand, allowing you to ride your pleasure in between moans. 

Your hips rose to get more pleasure as though you could, your back arched, and your walls clenched hard as you rode your climax. Dean's experienced tongue expertly dominated yours as he murmured into your lips. He withdrew to give you a bit of time, and while he did so, he studied your face in the darkness, as if he wanted to remember each and every shadow that passed across your skin in the flickering light. 

He was at a loss as to why he had never touched you before. For a while, at least, it felt pleasant enough to become sidetracked. 

Your cheeks became scarlet as your climax wore on, but you were itching to go one step more. For that, you were ready. For a long while, you had been ready to give Dean everything. 

If he asked, there was nothing you wouldn't give away. 

You planted a hesitant kiss on him to gauge his reaction before your shaky hands made contact with his legs and through his trousers. You could see more of his face as your eyes grew used to the gloom. Your hands became braver as you watched him smile, and boldness invaded your body and thoughts. The sexual experience shouldn't be difficult. Particularly with him.

Shortly after your hand briefly ran over his hardened cock through his trousers, your fingers somewhat slid into his boxer. You were taking your time to gauge his reaction. You were hoping he wouldn't say no, draw a line, or worse, end it up.

You yearned to offer him the same pleasure that he gave you.

In a weak but hopeful voice, you asked, “Can I touch you?”

With a charming chuckle, Dean added, “You can do whatever you like.” His voice carried expectation, which made you thrilled even more.

You reached out and stroked his erect cock, feeling that it was safe to go a step further and meet his gaze with yours. His sly smile vanished from his mouth as he stifled a moan and shifted on top of you, his hand still resting on your thighs and legs. 

He said, “It seems like you're cold,” as soon as you began to touch him. 

You retracted your icy hand in an ashamed attempt to mumble a “sorry,” but Dean reacted swiftly and put your hand back to his aching cock. 

He responded, “We'll get you warm,” and helped you put your hand around his cock to feel closer to him and to give you the confidence to continue. “Your hand feels so good around me.”

Driven by his words, you felt each vein on his cock and then circled your fingers around it to memorize him. You weren't familiar with his length or anything because you weren't an expert on male anatomy, but he was thick, so it was difficult to properly wrap your hands around him. You reasoned that it would be best to take some action to get him to come. 

You moved your hands and began to rub him, trying not to feel shy as you stared into his eyes. Your chest was rising with excitement, and your breathing was heavy. His gasping for air made you pleased and aroused; all you had to do was give him the same pleasure. 

Dean told you, “You're doing so good,” in between strokes. 

You inquired quietly, “Do you like it?”

“I really like it,” Dean said as he planted a kiss on your neck. He paused at your sweatpants and began to carefully lower them with his hands. 

Your hands were moving more quickly on him, and your heart was racing. He felt larger in your grip. He was nearly there. But Dean gently stopped you, pushing your hands aside and planting a kiss on your lips. You sensed that the big move was about to happen.

He saw you were becoming stiff as he assisted you in taking down your sweatpants and underwear, so he questioned you suspiciously, “Are you nervous?”

You lied once more while waiting for him to remove his clothing. “No, of course, not,” you said. When he removed his boxer, you could have practically felt the chills beneath you. You had everything you had on the floor. “It's just cold in here.”

“Trust me, you'll feel warm very soon,” said Dean confidently. His tone had hints of dedication. 

You shifted slightly beneath him to find a more comfortable position. Luckily, there was plenty of room in the coach. You put your hands on Dean's back, feeling his hardness on your stomach, and you waited for him to do something already. Though plainly aroused and moist, you were still a little anxious. You

didn't want to come seem as inexperienced, though. You wished for this to keep going. 

“I do trust you.” That was true at least. 

Dean believed you.

While you waited, he took his cock and gave himself two or three strokes. Witnessing him stroking himself got you even more aroused.

Dean positioned himself on your entrance, making you tense up a little, then brushed his hard cock on your clit after making sure you were both ready. But you were determined to see it through to the end. It was almost like a chance to win him over in a romantic way. Maybe.

He pressed the tip of his cock, and you laid your hands on his back and nailed him like crazy. He was able to slide inside you very easily because of how wet you were, yet it was still uncomfortable and painful.

You bit your lip to suppress your agonizing groans and not to make him stop, so as not to seem like a wounded animal or anything.

Dean groaned over you, “Fuck, you are really tight,” pausing just before pulling away. It was difficult for him to fit inside completely.

You whispered to him, embarrassed, “Sorry,” attempting to calm down and let him in.

“Just relax,” Dean said, taking another position. You nodded to him quickly. 

He again pushed his cock inside of you. This time, your pussy was around him tightly, drawing him within. He let out a sigh of delight at that. Your eyes welled up with tears as he withdrew and used a forceful motion to push himself forward. It was as though he was slicing you in two. Thankfully, he was unaware that a few tears had trickled down from your eyes onto the coach. However, you were unable to cease whimpering in pain. 

Dean sensed when you were ready and gave himself a single, full thrust. You nailed his belly and back and moaned in agony this time because of his harsh moment. 

You were no longer a virgin while you were lying beneath him. Even though the man you loved was unaware that you had given him something unique, you knew that no matter what happened, you would never regret it. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. He could not believe how tight you were. Your walls were drawing him in, constricting around him all the while. If he was less experienced, he would have come inside you as soon as he entered your pussy. 

“I am,” you urged him to continue, your voice quivering. “Just give me a moment, please.”

Dean gave you a kiss to help you relax. He saw that you were a bit anxious and that you needed to wet yourself a little more before you could handle him. He was sure sloppy kisses would be helpful.

Dean stepped back after a while and questioned, “Are you ready now?” You were clenching around him, and his patience was getting thin.

You nodded to him, and Dean retreated and pushed inside again without waiting another moment. The way he fucked you was rough and painful for you. You didn't complain though, even if it was hard to get used to his size and pace in such a short amount of time. He moved slowly at first, but as you got wetter beneath him, he accelerated his pace.

Dean moaned, “You're taking me so well,” while fucking you in a rough way. His delighted tone and praises made your heart sing. “I like how tight you are.”

You only said, "For you." His compliments caused the anguish to become joy, and this time you didn't suppress your moans. You had no idea that you would enjoy this so much. 

“Oh yeah?” he said, teasing as he whispered into your neck, picking up speed. “You sound so sweet. Do you like the way I fuck you? I should have fucked your lovely tight cunt sooner.”

Your face turned red the moment he spoke dirty words into your ear. They were about how much he liked fucking you everything else. The whole room was filled with sloppy and obscene sounds that made you blush with shyness. You were becoming even more excited at the sound of his heavy balls hitting your pussy. You began to tighten up around him. Although you were trying to hold back to extend the moment, you were getting close. 

“This won't take long,” he groaned, getting his fingers tense around your flesh. It was difficult for Dean to control himself. You were tightening around him, whimpering beneath him. “Come to me. Come now!”

When Dean moved around a little inside of you, he started to fuck you harder and find your sensitive spot. With a groan, “Take it. Come on,” he said, fucking you senseless. 

You reached your climax and clenched him with his name on your lips as your screams became louder and you were unable to contain yourself any longer. Dean proceeded to fuck you throughout your climax by lifting your hips and drawing his body to you in order to receive more pleasure. You believed you might come again right there since your pussy was throbbing so much. 

After Dean made sure you rode your orgasm, he let out a deep grumble, pulled out his cock in between your startled gasps, and began to stroke himself. You became excited by his stroking himself on top of you, even though you had just rode your climax. 

When Dean began to empty himself on your thigh and stomach, you jumped. You waited for him to empty himself as you saw him spill his hot white ropes all over your body. You glared in shock as you watched him riding his pleasure.

You were no longer a virgin there, under him. It had happened. You were aware that he was only a friend and that the situation was really a bit awkward. You waited for remorse to surface, thinking that nothing would change with him, but it didn't. You didn't feel any sign of regret. Giving something unique to a loved one, even if it held no significance for them, was never wrong. After all, love was generous, and it always needed to consume the untouched places of your body and spirit.

With a low grunt, Dean moved your bodies on the coach and, to your astonishment, embraced you. It was obvious that he was satisfied. Dean grabbed the blanket that was hanging from the coach's corner and laid it over your bodies. You trembled as the heat took the place of the cold. You simply drew nearer to him to enjoy the moment because you had no idea what to do. You pondered whether this would occur once again. 

Jokingly, you said, “What now?” Still, a lot of questions raced through your head.

Dean sighed and said, “It's pretty late and seems like the rain won't stop any soon, so let's sleep.” You remained silent regarding what had transpired. 

Saying, “Okay,” you leaned into his embrace and made an effort to keep as close to him as you could. The thrill you had just had began to gradually fade away, leaving you alone yourself with despair and sadness. 

Dean remarked, “By the way,” before he closed his eyes. “Let's not talk about this to Sam or someone else, alright?” Though gentle and soothing, his words were sharp and cut you through. 

You said, “Sure,” immediately away. “Of course not.” 

As though nothing had occurred and you weren't naked in each other's arms, you told each other good night. Although it was awkward, you made the choice. When you made the decision to go all the way with him, you knew that was what would happen. 

You got out of bed before Dean did, picked up your clothes from the floor, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. Whatever is done is done. It was irreversible; you convinced yourself. Nothing was a regret for you. You were relieved that it only happened with Dean. It was the appropriate decision for you to keep the details from him. He wasn't made to feel oppressed by you or anything. This would ruin the friendship and also ruin you. 

Dean also woke up, and you two didn't chat much after that. You felt a little uncomfortable, but as soon as Dean returned to his lighthearted demeanor, you felt at ease and acted naturally. When you saw he didn't put distance between you, you felt relaxed. 

That's how three weeks went by. Everything was well. 

Following a disastrous hunt that left Sam with an arm injury, you enter their home and assist Sam in taking care of his arm. The hunt this time was challenging, and you were distracted. 

Sam was giving you and Dean one of his puppy looks. You felt terrible. 

With remorse, you murmured, “I'm sorry, Sam.” He injured his harm in order to protect you, yet he didn't blame you for anything. You have probably never met someone as kind as he was. 

He said, “It's okay,” and made an agonizing moan as you carefully cleansed his arm. 

Dean snapped, “It's not,” in a harsh voice. He was across the room, observing Sam and you. He had his fists crossed over his chest, obviously frustrated with the current state of things. After all, Sam was his brother. “There, you should have been careful. Sam could have hurt badly because of you.”

“I know,” you said, panicked. “You are right.”

“I don't think so,” Dean stated sharply, glancing at Sam's injured arm. “You've been distracted for a while. I attempted to ignore it and hide the mistakes you made, but today they could end up killing Sam.”

Your pulse raced, and you felt guilty as you proceeded to handle Sam's arm carefully. As he persisted in blaming you, you found it difficult to contain your emotions. 

“It won't happen again,” you stated in a tremulous tone while keeping your gaze on Sam's arm. 

“It's alright. Dean, please stop being so grumpy,” Sam eventually pleaded in an insistent voice.

“You shut up,” Dean said, gesturing to Sam as if he were a little child. In fact, you were aware that he remained a child in Dean's eyes.

As you began to wrap a white cloth around Sam's injured arm, he groaned and pressed his groan back. “You're being annoying right now,” he said.

“I'm going to be more annoying if you two keep acting like this, you know.”

You said, “I'm really sorry,” and you gave Dean and Sam sincere looks. “It really won't happen again.”

Dean nodded at you quickly and sighed. However, it was clear that he was frustrated with you. “He's all I have.”

“I know.”

You and Sam didn't say anything further about what had transpired. Thankfully, despite his curious and suspicious stare, he remained silent. To get better, you had to gather yourself. But it was challenging. You questioned whether being near Dean worked as a deterrent for him to stay away from you. 

A week went by, and Dean came home with a blonde woman by his side as you and Sam were spending the night in the house eating pies and watching a movie.

Jealousy took over you, but you smiled and greeted them instead of pulling a grouchy face and making a scene. Dean's hookups and lovers became routine to you. The things that had happened weeks ago weren't important, even if it was hard to admit. Not a word about it was spoken. 

Last several days, Dean had been annoyed, but when he kissed the blonde, he was a completely different person. Happier, more relaxed. Though your heart was pounding from pain and suffering, your gaze remained riveted on the TV. It was pathetic how much you wanted to be her. It was a hard swallow. 

When she, Dean, or Sam told you something, you smiled and engaged in conversation so as not to arouse suspicion. They eventually made their way to Dean's room, and this is when your eyes started to well up with tears. You were unable to stop it. You uttered a little sound as your heart gripped with so much agony and suffering. You had no idea why. It might all have been different, but it wasn't.

Sam saw your eyes become wetter in the light, and he gave you a dubious look, but none of you said anything. 

You longed to travel back in time as soon as you heard it began to rain outside. This time, you weren't fond of the rain or how it felt. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you like it. Let me know what you think, please.  ^^

[ramp-it-up]

Worth the Fall

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Despite the fact you have questions about Bucky and your parents’ conversation at Thanksgiving, you’re hitting your groove as a couple, but there is no time for alone time.

Word count: 3.4 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This part of the story is getting everything caught up to a month ago, lmao. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (I hope you do!)

This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after both You've Got Me Thinking and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Initial angst, Steve and Peach, Bucky’s anxiety. No time for nookie! Flirting Intimations of sexting and phone sex. Praise kink, fluffy Bucky, horny Bucky, dom Bucky. F@cking versus making love, wall time, sex with clothes on, raw p in v, creampie, after care, intimations of oral (f receiving!) dirty talk, Bucky applies for a second job. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

You walked along the sand and inhaled the ocean air.

You were shaken to the core. 

Bucky Barnes had surely just taken your parents out to ask for your hand in marriage. But it was so soon, how could he be so sure?

Also, you were an independent woman. How dare he talk to your parents before he asked you to marry him!

He wasn’t your feudal lord.

You were scared witless and turned to the waves to try and calm down. 

“He loves the hell out of you, you know.”

Steve had fallen in beside you as you stared at the ocean. You looked up at him, trying to smile, but failing. To Steve you looked terrified.

“It’s just so….”

Steve smiled to himself, remembering that Bucky had purchased the ring weeks before, after just a few days of knowing you. But that wasn’t his story to tell.

“Just know that I’ve never seen him like this. And I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s never been so open, so determined with a woman before. You make him a better man. It’s truly amazing.”

Steve looked so earnest. Your cousin had done quite a number on him.

“You don’t have to be scared. You are ‘The One’ for him.”

This time you managed a smile and an arched eyebrow. You had a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about his best friend.

Steve chuckled.

“Gah. Don’t look at me like that. You and Peach and that eyebrow.”

You laughed at that and grinned, more relaxed now.

Steve looked off into the waves himself.

“So fucking cute…”

He looked down and kicked a rock, a small smile on his face. You could tell he had it bad.

“Thanks for the pep talk Steve-o. And I get what you’re saying. I love Bucky Barnes with all my might, making every other relationship I’ve ever had seem… trivial.”

You glanced at Steve, who was nodding at your sentiment.

“I’m just spooked at the possibilities. I mean…this seems…like a lot.”

“I know. Bucky gets intense.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Understatement of the year. And you’re a lot like your friend.”

Steve looked at you, one eye closed from the sunlight in his eyes. He didn’t have any sunglasses and the sun highlighted his windswept hair and the planes of his handsome face. You were squinting at him and you could totally see why Peach let him touch her goodies. 

Steve was kinda hot.

You sighed.

“Listen. I’ll be alright. Bucky and I just need to chat.”

Steve smirked.

“Chat. Is that what the kids call it now?”

You laughed and swatted him on the arm as you continued walking again.

“Fuck you, Steve. But for real. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it. And I love you for it. I just wish my cousin could see this side of you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Fucked that up good, didn’t I?”

“Not gonna lie, she’s kinda blinded by rage right now. But don’t give up on her. She’ll come around.”

Steve looked at you skeptically and you shrugged.

“80– 75% chance she’ll come around.”

You both laughed.

“Just remember what I said yesterday. She’s a tough nut, but she has a huge heart behind that wall. She is determined about the success of that dance school and she is competitive as fuck. You know what to do.”

Steve grinned. 

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

—-

You and Steve re-entered the kitchen laughing, you holding on to his arm. 

Peach was at the table drinking coffee and dedicated to ignoring Steve.

“Thanks again for the pep talk Steve. I appreciate it.”

You gave him a long hug and when you separated, you saw Peach’s eyebrow cocked in what you could only imagine was the way Steve described. You stifled a giggle and leaned up on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“You better stop before Bucky comes back and chops me in the throat.”

Peach humphed, and you knew exactly what she was thinking.

You laughed at Steve as he headed toward the stairs, ignoring Peach right back.

“I’m gonna go get my running shoes. A turn down the beach will help me get some of this tension out.”

You watched Peach as she watched Steve roll his neck and stretch on his way out of the room, her coffee stalled in mid air. Her head was on a swivel as he walked out of the room, checking out his formidable ass. She sighed and then remembered that you were there.

You looked at her and she looked at you.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word, cousin. Yet. But we will talk later. Any coffee left?”

—-

The week ended up smoother than when Bucky and Steve arrived, and before you and he and Steve left on the jet back to New York, Bucky surprised everyone with an invitation to Vermont for Christmas. 

Your heart did a funny little thing because why would he invite your entire family on an all expense holiday vacation from Christmas Eve to New Years unless he was going to…

You couldn’t dwell on what ifs, and you didn’t want to spook yourself. You just decided to appreciate the moment.

It was funny watching your cousin’s face and the corresponding look on Steve’s. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be stressful at all.

Perhaps there would be entertainment.

—---

Later, back in Brooklyn, there was a whirlwind of activity as the Rebirth Foundation geared up for the annual summit and gala. 

During the second week in December, Rebirth Endowment recipients (which included your cousin this year!) flew in, were oriented and toured around New York City. The two culminating events were the summit, held at NYU, where there was an art lecture series, a panel, and the gala. 

Steve usually participated in the summit by himself, with Sam or Natasha sometimes joining him on stage along with the city’s movers and shakers in the art scene.

But this year Bucky was participating.

He said he wanted to be more prominent in the Art community moving forward as a path toward legitimacy, and you knew that tangentially, that had something to do with you.

When you got back from Thanksgiving, there was a week to prepare for the activities. Your Arts and Culture Alliance in Brownsville, as a part of Rebirth through the Howard Benson exhibit, was a stop on the tour, and you had a ton of work to do. 

Bucky and his three partners obviously had their own long list of to dos, but he also needed to be there for Steve, who was a wreck at the thought of Peach coming into town. 

Steve was so far gone.

But James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d never seen Bucky Barnes shook. 

Sure, you’d seen him excited, impatient, horny, angry, and a little irritated, but never truly nervous.

And you shouldn’t have thought it, but it was adorable. 

Friday night, you met your cousin at the airport and witnessed the beginning of her downfall. The cocktail reception later at the hotel had her, and by proxy your own, head spinning. 

You grinned at the way Steve was handling everything. 

Bucky was beautiful and you admired him as he toasted the guests, his beautiful tenor a nice contrast from Steve’s baritone as they both gave their salutations. Only you knew how anxious he was to speak in front of people and for everything to go well. You felt privileged.

You realized that James Buchanan Barnes was a good man who just wanted to be better for you and for his community.

And suddenly you were not afraid of a future with him.

—-

During this time, you two shared brief cuddles and quick kisses, furtive touches and brief bouts of handholding when you saw each other at events. The mornings meant salacious pictures and quick phone sex to take the edge off, but you weren’t able to luxuriate in each other as you usually did.

You missed Bucky’s full attention, but the fact that you were working together on something worthwhile was the shit. You loved this man and you wanted to work beside him as an equal, not just be his sex toy.

This was the week that you fell completely in love with Bucky Barnes.

Thursday was the day of the Rebirth Art Summit and Bucky was pacing up and down his home office, reading glasses switching locations from perched on top of his head, to his delectable mouth, to his handsome face as he reviewed his notes.

You looked up from the ones in your hands with which you were quizzing him and smiled at him.

“Jamie, it’s going to be okay.”

He stopped to look at you, a faint smile on his face. He came over and pecked you on the lips and gave you a hug.

“‘M so glad you are here tonight, even though you tried to stay away.”

You sighed into his chest and took a deep breath, inhaling his Bucky smell.

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I was just giving you space. I know tomorrow is important to you and I don’t want to distract—”

“Frumoasă. You don’t distract from anything. If anything, you add to my life. You add so, so much. I love you. And I miss you. I want you here with me tonight.”

You melted into him, chuckled and shook your head as he held you. This feeling was crazy.

“What?”

You heard his voice in his chest, but he didn’t move, except to sway just a little, as if soothing you. It worked.

“I love you too, Bucky. And I miss you too. So much. It’s wild to feel so much in such a short amount of time.”

You and Bucky had only been together about three months, but you knew this was it.

“When you know, you know, my love. And we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

You hugged him tighter. What was understood didn’t need to be said.

He kissed the top of your head and then moved back so he could see into your eyes.

“And having you in my space while I get ready for an important event is everything.”

You looked him in the eye, thinking of sucking his dick for being such a dream.

“Bucky…”

Bucky took your hand and raised it to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, Frumoasă. I will be forced to fuck you all night long, something that is long overdue.”

He kissed your forehead.

“But there is much work to do.”

You cast your eyes down and whispered, “You’re right.”

Bucky took you in, looking so demure and being so patient with him. It was such a turn on.

“Such a Good Girl for me.”

You wanted to fall to your knees, but you just bit your lip and went to sit back down, crossing your legs as you began quizzing him again. 

Soon, you told your pulsing pussy. Soon.

You worked late into the night and soon dozed on the leather couch in his study. The next morning, you woke in Bucky’s bed with a sweet note on your pillow. You smiled and knew that he’d carried you to bed and held you all night long.

—--

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

You sucked your teeth at your cousin’s comment, but you didn’t pull your gaze away from Bucky up on the dias the next day at NYU. 

You were proud and in awe of your man. Your smirk turned into a grin as he glanced at you and started to speak.

You were down bad. And Bucky was too. After almost two weeks with little to no physicality, your energy was at supernova strength and about to cause a black hole in the universe.

That’s how intense this thing was. 

You were wet and hard and soft in all the right places.

Bucky had to pause frequently for the interpreter, and it gave you a chance to make googly eyes at each other. You ignored Peach’s subtle retching noises as you concentrated on Bucky. But you cut your eyes over to her while Steve spoke and found her visibly eye fucking him. You smirked when she noticed you noticing.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

She was trying to distract you. You laughed.

“Fucking-A.” 

You nodded up at the stage.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You were shocked as hell when she responded.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

You elected not to tease her about her response. It seemed as if Steve was working the plan.

You resumed watched as Bucky did his thing. He was glowing, handsome and impressive as hell. No one would believe he was as introverted as he was. But he was flourishing in the spotlight, seemingly born for his. He exuded confidence. 

It was such a turn on.

—-

Bucky watched you watching him and talking to your cousin and knew your tells. You were probably wet and ready for him. He briefly thought of what he was going to do to you later before he refocused on the task at hand. Knowing you were there for him was such motivation.

When he made his way back over to you, you were an angel, giving him a huge hug and exclaiming, “You were so fucking good up there, Jamie! I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky felt his heart explode and although someone was pulling him away from you, he mouthed a promise in your direction.

—-

“Later...”

You definitely read those sexy lips and your heart started racing. You looked around for your cousin, expecting to be roasted, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged and made your way to the subway, assuming that she was gathering with the other recipients. There was more work to do in Brownsville and you were busy anticipating the night.

You waited all day for Bucky’s text to tell you what time Nico was picking you up, but it never came. The rest of the day flew by and by the time you were walking home, daydreaming of dressing up for the gala tomorrow night and what Bucky might wear, you happened to check your phone and saw messages he’d sent just 10 minutes before:

You looked so good today. Especially this morning. Good enough to eat.

I’ll be at your place in 30. Wear that bra, no top, that skirt, no panties, and those heels.

You blushed and thought of the mirror selfie of the cream lace lingerie set you were wearing underneath your cream colored cowl neck sweater and grey wool pencil skirt that matched your grey wool coat.

Yes, Daddy, you replied and picked up the pace to make it to your brownstone ahead of him, your heart beating a mile a minute.

You thought you were prepared when you opened the door after Bucky knocked, but you weren’t.

In fact, you were shaking with anticipation.

There he was, bundled up from the cold, but those blue eyes sparkling down at you.

Bucky stared at you for a beat, and then walked toward you, taking your face in his hands and backing you up against the entryway wall, kicking the door closed behind him.

“My Frumoasă. So good. So perfect”

And then he leaned down and kissed you.

—-

Bucky had the strangest thought as you opened your door.

I’m home.

Although this was not his place, he realized that you were his home and that he couldn’t wait to make you his wife. His eyes swept down your form, pleased that you had followed instructions. You were such a badass, capable woman and partner and he just had to be inside you soon. 

He complimented you and his cock stiffened as your mouth parted in desire. He knew your praise kink very well. Bucky cradled your beautiful face and moved inside to kiss you.

His demanding mouth parted your trembling lips, sending tremors through your body. You clung to the lapels of his coat to tether you to earth as his tongue invaded your mouth. You suckled it, previewing what you wanted to do with his cock later. 

He pulled away, his bright blue eyes blazing, and his jaw clenched so tight as he shrugged out of his winter coat. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was angry, but the look was desire. 

And only for you. You grew warm from the inside out.

“I can’t wait. Wanna make love to you, but I have to fuck you now.”

Bucky bent his knees and grabbed your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and hold on to him as he walked you over to your couch.

You attacked his face as you were sat down firmly on the bulge in his pants and Bucky accepted your assault, chuckling as you kissed him from his hairline, to his forehead, down his nose, each cheek, skipping over his lips to his stubbly dimpled chin and finally back to that mouth. When he kissed you again, his hands were everywhere, starting at the nape of your hair, pulling so your neck was exposed as his mouth moved down to mark you up, then trailing down to your fine lace bra cups.

Bucky palmed your full breasts, weighing them in his hands and watching your face as he twisted your nipples. You nipples tightened under his touch and you arched your back, moving and giving him a view of what was underneath your skirt. He admired your ardor, you squirming and moaning on his lap.

It was his dream come true.

“So fucking hot, Frumoasa. I’ve been craving you. All day. All week. Ever since Thanksgiving. Since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Bucky…need you.”

You grasped the lapels of his jacket as his hand traveled down your torso and as he leaned down to travel under the hem of your skirt. Your soft fingers peeled his jacket away and unbuttoned his shirt. You opened it and ran your hands down his chest, rubbing his nipples with your thumb and trailed your hand down to his happy trail and proceeded to try and undo his belt buckle.

Bucky grew hot at the warmth of your thick thighs and the way your cunt was so hot that he could feel it through his pants. 

He had to have it. 

Panting now and desperate, Bucky tugged your skirt up, flashing your bare pussy, but it was difficult to get rid of because it was still buttoned. It slipped out of his hands and he grunted in frustration.

“Ah, poor baby…” 

You leaned forward, brushing the locks of hair that had fallen into his flushed face, grazing your nipples across your chest with a sexy smile.  Bucky whimpered and you smirked at his desperation. You slowly reached behind you to your zipper, pushing your chest toward Bucky’s face. He licked his lips and pulled your bra cups down, causing your warm breasts to spill out and his hands to be drawn to them again like magnets as he watched you loosen your skirt.

When you grabbed the hem to bring it over your head, he released you, watching as the fabric moved above your crotch.

Your pussy. Fuck.

Bucky could never get enough of staring at it, the dark petals, which were spread open for him as you sat on his lap were calling his name. He licked his lips, suddenly parched.

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted, no needed, to hear Bucky’s voice right now. You reached behind you again as you unclasped your bra and suddenly you were naked on an essentially fully dressed Bucky Barnes.

It was sexy as hell. 

“I’m thinking that your pussy is a work of art, Frumoasă. It’s perfect. I’m thinking that I want to spend at least eight hours a day between your legs, make you cum over and over again, make you beg me to stop, and to start again. How I want you to taste you and make you squirt so I can swallow you down…”

You moaned and started grinding on his bulge, causing Bucky to curse.

“Damn, Baby. You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants like a teenager.”

Bucky grabbed your ass and reached between you to tease your clit, feeling how wet you were.

“Fuuuuuck, you’re so wet.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you to your knees on either side of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled them and his underwear just down past his ass to get his cock out. He grabbed your cheek as he stroked himself and rubbed his thick cock head in your juicy pussy.

“Fuck me Frumoasa. Slide down this dick for me.”

You brushed Bucky’s hair off his forehead again as you nodded and started to slide down his fat, hard cock. Your head lolled back on your neck as you reached the root of him.

“Oh… Bucky… Fuck….”

You could feel Bucky pounding inside you, long thick cock battering your cervix and you whined, leaning back and working your hips as Bucky fucked up into you and thumbed your clit while the other hand guided you up and down his dick. 

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shining as he looked up at you. You knew he was close and you couldn’t take it.

He started to speak and you knew it was over.

“Frumoasă. I-I’m gonna need you to… oh holy fuckkkkkk!”

His stutter made you start to cum.

As soon as your pussy started spasming around him, Bucky started shooting his spend all over your warm walls causing you to convulse and hug his head to your chest. He clutched you to him, whimpering as he held onto you for dear life as he came.

He collapsed backwards, taking you with him as you became boneless in his arms. You rolled off of him and curled up on the couch as Bucky stood and untangled himself from his clothes.

You closed your eyes for a minute as he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth to clean you up. When he finished, he kissed your forehead and gathered you up in his arms.

“You turn me on like no one else, Frumoasă. You’re it for me. I love you.”

You cuddled into him as he lay you in your bed.

“Me too, Bucky. You’re my one. I love you, too.”

Bucky kissed your forehead again, and then proceeded to move down your body.

“Good, now. I need to clock into my main occupation. Hour one of eight.…”

—-

If you like it, hit Reblog! ☺️

Read the next part, Peach IV (SR)

[portagas-chan]

Platonic Yandere Doflamingo and teen daughter reader

Overprotective Dad

Platonic Yandere Doflamingo x Daughter Reader

I tried my best. I hope you like it!

Doflamingo adored you and spoiled you rotten because you were his only child. His only daughter. To him, you were the most important person in his life and no one could prove him wrong. He will kill anyone who hurt you physically and mentally.

There was a time when you were a child and a maid accidentally spilled hot tea on you. You cried because the tea felt so hot on your skin and he quickly called a doctor and soothe you. After that incident, you noticed one thing. You never saw that maid again.

You were too young to understand back then but now you do. You turned 18 a few months ago. You were happy because you thought Doflamingo would finally let you leave the castle and explore the outside world. You thought you could finally travel the seas. That was your dream.

However, during your 18th birthday, you asked him if you could become a pirate like him and travel the seas but before you could even finish your sentence, he cut you off.

"No," just that simple one word was able to crush your dreams in an instant.

"Why?" You argued.

"The outside world is very dangerous, [Y/n]. How many times do I have to tell you that? There is no way you can become a pirate. This castle is the only safe place for you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "But dad, I wanted to become a pirate like you. I just-"

He raised his voice, "[Y/n]! I don't want you to become a pirate like me. You know, I hate repeating myself. I don't want to hear about this topic again! Do you understand me?"

"Yes," You muttered.

"Now go to your room!"

That was the first time your dad had ever raised his voice at you. You left crying and feeling dejected.

But you were determined to leave. You loved your dad but sometimes he is just too much. You heard that he had to attend the Warlord meeting and will be back in a few days. You took this opportuinity to sneak out and it seems like luck was on your side because it was successful.

"Where is [Y/n]? Where did she go?!" Diamante panicked.

"I think she left. I checked every room in this castle and she is nowhere to be found," Baby 5 sighed.

"Fuck!" Diamante cursed.

"Doffy is going to be so mad," Trebol said.

"We have to tell him."

And they did. They told him about the terrible news through the den den mushi. He was flying in the sky heading towards Marineford but the news made him paused and he was thankful that he was still near dressrosa.

Doflamingo did not take it well. His frown deepened, his veins popped out on his forehead and he looked like he will kill anyone who gets in his way. Abandoning his meeting, he wasted no time and flew at the fastest speed back to Dressrosa.

An hour later, he arrived at his castle to see you tied up in your room. He glanced at Diamante, "Where did you find her?"

"Green bit. Thank god she didn't go too far. If we were a little late, she would have been gone for good."

He narrowed his eyes at Diamante's words, "Untie her."

Diamante nodded, obeying his orders.

"Fufufu~ You are very persistent, my daughter," He walked towards you with a grin. You could tell that even though he was grinning, he was very angry inside.

You were scared of what was going to happen next. You were born isolated from the world and now you sneaked out but got caught. There was no way he was going to continue let you live like you used to.

"I'm sorry, dad but I won't do it again! I promise!" You apologized hoping he would let it slide this time.

"Sure but can I trust you? I don't think I can. Last time, you asked me about this and I told you to never bring it up again. You said you won't but now look at what you did. You crossed the line, [Y/n]," He was no longer smiling. He looked upset, mad and most of all, disappointed in you.

You stayed silent because he was right. You lied to him but how could you not? You were getting tired of being restricted from leaving the castle.

When he saw that you have given up on going against him, his signature grin returned to his face.

"Starting from now on, you will be locked up in your room. And for extra precautions, I will have to put these bracelets on you" He took them out of his pocket.

"What?" You were confused. Bracelets for extra precautions?

Doflamingo took your hand and put on the bracelets on both of your wrists, "They will explode if you leave this castle."

You froze in place. Your eyes widened as you looked at your dad in fear and despair.

Doflamingo grinned and hugged you.

"Don't worry, [Y/n]. In this world, I will be the only one who loves you and care for you. I am the only one that will always be by your side. And that is why you can never leave your dad. Fufufu~"

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 12: Mutual masturbation

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) mutual masturbation, mild dom/sub dynamics (softdom!Damien is BACK baby!!) dirty talk, little bit of cum play, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: I actually wrote another mutual masturbation fic with Damien a few months ago, so if that's your thing, you can find it here :D

He wasn’t ignoring you—not purposefully.

Damien had tucked away in a corner of the house, glued to the screen of the desktop computer.

You approached quietly, watching the muscle in his wrist just barely flex when he clicked the mouse.

For as long as you’d been together—and prior to that, as long as you’d been friends—you knew Damien was the type to get hung up on small details. He’d focus until he was burnt out; he’d try to deal with everything in one go and become deeply frustrated when that backfired on him.

He was detail oriented, almost painstakingly so.

At least right now he was hyper-focused on something harmless, something that brought him real joy.

Still, it was going on midnight, and you wanted him in bed with you—for the more selfish purposes, yes, but also because he’d be mad at himself if he stayed up too late, which would morph into a deep-seated grumpiness that would, in turn, make him feel guilty.

“Do you plan on coming to bed on your own tonight?” You draped an arm loosely over his shoulder, leaning over him, “Or am I going to have to drag you there myself?”

Damien leaned his head back against you, eyes glued to the computer screen. It was Elder Scrolls, you knew that much, but which version, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m playing,” he was smiling, that toothy, lopsided grin that he wore, an expression of unbridled joy and genuine amusement.

Your favorite version of him.

“It’s late, Dames…” You bent down and pressed your face into his neck, brushing your lips to his skin.

He let out a contented sigh. “Late to you. To a vampire—very early.”

You removed yourself from his neck, taking the two steps forward that let you position yourself in front of him, leaning the back of your thighs on his desk.

“Game will still be there in the morning…” You reached out to brush your knuckles over his cheek.

He turned his head slightly, ghosting a kiss over your hand. “But I’m…I dunno…” He huffed, still smiling, but his brow creased slightly. “It’s been such a busy week and I want to unwind. And even though it’s late and I’m exhausted, I’m not…tired.” He explained, pulling your hand from his face and lacing his fingers with yours.

You lifted yourself onto the desk, careful not to push anything off the surface.

“Well…I can think of plenty of ways to tire you out…” You purred, and though you meant it as a tease, you were only half joking.

Damien leaned back against the chair he was in, letting your hand go in favor of reaching out to hold your leg.

“Go on.” He smirked, rolling his shoulders.

“I mean, I could—” You tried to rattle off a list of the first depraved things that came to mind, but he cut you off, squeezing your thigh.

“Don’t tell me,” his smirk contorting into a wolfish grin, “Show me.”

You bit lazily at your bottom lip.

“Right here?” There was a ghost of a smile on your face, the merriment you felt momentarily winning out over the lust that had begun to swell within you.

“It’s what you’re thinking about right now, isn’t it?” Damien removed his grip from your leg, bringing his hands behind his head. He spread his thighs and quirked a brow. “Go ahead, princess.”

You stared down at him from your perch on the desk, sucking the inside of your cheeks for a moment as you considered his challenge.

You gave in immediately.

“Fine,” You put your hands on your thighs, leaning forward for emphasis. “I will.”

Leisurely, your fingers danced under the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging at the fabric. You lifted it over your head slowly, revealing your bare chest to him, your nipples pebbling from exposure to the air of the room.

You tossed your shirt in Damien’s lap, and he grabbed it with both hands, white knuckling the fabric, his gaze piercing. He let out a sigh, a soft growl, urging you to continue.

You put your hands on your neck, trailing your palms down over the swell of your breasts and over your stomach, fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts. You brought them back up to your chest, kneading the supple flesh, pinching your nipples. The feeling sent shivers down your spine, and you subconsciously arched into your own touch.

“I would’ve gotten you to make a lot more noise by now.” Damien’s voice was smug, but his jaw was tight.

Defying his words as best you could, you caught his eyes, letting out a breathy moan while you rolled your nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

Damien took a deep breath, as if to collect himself. His head tilted back slightly, but he found your gaze again and matched it.

“Feels better when I do it, doesn’t it?” He asked, and you squeaked.

“You said I should show you what I want,” you mumbled, dropping your head to watch your hands massage your breasts. “That’s what I’m doing, Damien.”

“And this is what you want, princess?” He smiled, “You want me to tire myself out by playing with your tits?” He let go of your shirt, tossing it to the floor, and shifting in his seat.

The way he said it, gravelly and pleased, made you swallow down a whimper.

But the way he’d moved the obstruction of your shirt from his lap and spread his legs wider to reveal the obvious tent in his sweatpants made your lips part to allow the sound out.

“I have other ideas, if this doesn’t do it for you…” You mewled, still palming your chest.

He didn’t grace you with a verbal response, offering a simple nod, darkened eyes goading you.

You let your hands fall down your body, shimmying out of your shorts and exposing yourself to him. You spread your legs, shifting your weight on the desk in a teasing display.

“Fuck,” Damien’s voice was strained; still domineering but having more trouble holding it together now. “Were you—were you this wet when you came in here, or is that just…?” He shifted his jaw, grinding his teeth and letting his sentence trail off.

You were spurred on by his lapse in dominance, enjoying the fact that you could get him so distracted and wound up by simply flashing your bare cunt to him.

You dragged your hand over your stomach, stopping when your fingers brushed over your clit. You let out a needy sound. Wound up so tightly after groping yourself and listening to him speak over your movements, you were convinced you could cum just like this.

Your fingers spread you apart, fully exposing your glistening hole, and Damien groaned as you circled yourself with your fingers.

“Come on,” his lips parted as he stared, the rise and fall of his chest becoming more pronounced. “Show me.”

Maintaining eye contact with him, you dipped an albeit shaky finger into your sex, down to the knuckle. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes closing briefly as you finally gave your body what it had been craving.

You rocked your hips, slowly thrusting the digit in and out of yourself.

“There you go…” Damien smiled up at you wickedly, “Look at you, princess, so self-sufficient. Is this you trying to tell me that you only want one of my fingers?”

You shook your head, moaning, and pushed another finger inside yourself.

With a groan, Damien gave in to his own urges completely, and you watched him hook a thumb under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down enough to release his cock. It bounced against him, tip wet with precum, and you whimpered.

He licked his palm, bringing his hand down to smear the precum and his spit down his length and subconsciously matching the rhythm of your fingers as you pumped them in and out.

“This is what you were thinking about, isn’t it?” The question was entirely rhetorical—he knew what you were thinking, knew you were as desperate to get fucked as he was to fuck you.

You offered a weak nod, the pressure of your release building slowly but surely somewhere deep behind your stomach.

You brought one of your legs up, pressing your foot against the surface of the desk to switch the angle to one that would get you there faster.

Damien groaned, sliding his hand over his cock, using the image of you spread out and fucking yourself on his desk to chase his own release.

“Good, princess,” he spoke through clenched teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching, “Say it. Say that you’re thinking about getting fucked.”

Your breath was stuttered, fingers curling into the tender spot inside you.

“I—yeah, I’m thinking about—about getting fucked…” You managed to squeak out, heavily lidded eyes tracking the movement of his hand over his cock.

“Yeah—yeah, by who?” He coaxed you, twisting his wrist. He watched you drip over your fingers, coating yourself in your own juices, and it was an exercise in self-control for him to not lean forward and press his face into your cunt; lap you up and lick you clean.

“You, Damien,” your eyes closed, your jaw dropped, and you felt the familiar buzz take over your body. “You.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he keened at your words, brow furrowed as he watched you near your high. “You can do it, baby, you’re so close—fuck your hand, let me see you make yourself cum.”

You were in exactly the right spot, and upon hearing his words, you felt a swell of pleasure; something pushing down on your body in all the right ways, contorting you and satisfying you as your walls clenched and your back arched.

You moaned, letting out unsteady breaths to match your trembling thighs. You continued to press your fingers into yourself, mimicking as best you could the way he always prolonged your pleasure until it became overwhelming, brushing your delicate spots and making you cry out.

“Oh, fuck—” Damien moaned at the sight, the shiver that overtook your body and made you cry out for him. He fucked his fist faster at the thought of how you’d look beneath him, crying that way and begging for more of him. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby, you’re so—you’re so perfect. Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” He jerked himself quickly, spilling over his hand with a low moan.

He panted, all but going limp in his seat as his head fell back, a parallel to the way you had slumped against the wall behind you, taking heaving breaths after you’d finally removed your fingers from your cunt.

He picked his head up, admiring you with a soft smile.

“What?” You scoffed, smiling back at him.

“I’m still not tired.” He smirked at you.

Moving off the desk in a manner most ungraceful, you took his playfulness as permission to drape yourself over his lap, sagging against him and grabbing his wrist.

“That’s a shame…” You brought his hand to your mouth, sucking on his fingers and savoring the bitter spend that had dripped over him. “Gonna just sit here and play games you’ve already played all night?” You quirked a brow, swirling your tongue over his middle finger before dropping his hand.

“Oh,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you, “I’m gonna play, just…probably not out here and definitely not on this computer.”

He stood, lifting you, and you laughed.

“Monitor is still on.” You nuzzled against him, and he tilted his face down at you.

“Baby, I love your mindfulness, but I could not care less about what’s happening on that screen right now.”

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 28: Starting Over

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. NOT Beta read.

Word Count:  7822 words.

I M P O R T A N T

A/N: So after some consideration, I need a break from this fic because I wanna work on other fics I have kinda abandoned because of this one. Plus, I want to write an original novel! I'll be updating about it here, thanks for your support and understanding, happy holidays! :3

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

You were stuck in the same dilemma you had a month ago. You paced around your room, anxiety running high, rehearsing how to apologize to the king for kissing another man and causing a scene in enemy territory. You had crossed the line this time, and it would be hard to fix it. He must be furious, even more so when he found out you didn't return to the camp after the incident. You didn't regret what you did, but you would have to admit that you deliberately hurt the king sooner or later, and now you had to face the consequences. You bit your nails in a failed attempt to calm your nerves as you waited for his inevitable return.

Suddenly, you stopped as you heard the clatter of the drawbridge's chains moving. You darted to the window, looked outside and confirmed what you feared: the king was back in the castle. But he wasn't alone. Along with him were Kenjaku and Mahito, followed by a long caravan of curses. Sukuna stepped out of his carriage with his trademark dark grace, looking up directly at your window as if he knew you were there. His sharp eyes pierced your being, and a chill ran down your spine. Heart pounding uncertainty, you slammed the window shut and hid behind the wall as if that would help.

You still didn’t have an apology that would convince you. You weren’t even sure Sukuna would allow you to apologize. Staying in your room, waiting for him to request your presence, was the safest option, though you had no idea how long that would take.

To your surprise, it only took twenty minutes of your patience when someone knocked on your door. To your relief, it was Mrs. Inoue. You hugged her without a second thought, muttering hasty apologies for leaving her alone with the king for over a week.

“I missed you too, child.” She hugged you back.

“I'm glad you’re okay,” you said before letting go of her.

She gave you a kind, tender grandmotherly smile, but then her expression changed drastically to one of anger. “Oh no…” you thought, scared.

“What the hell is wrong with you, silly girl?! You cried every day for the king to propose to you, and you went and blew it! You're going to kill me with your shenanigans before I see you in white! You better give me 7 grandchildren to make up for it!” She scolded you severely while spanking you.

“Sukuna told you?!” You asked, surprised, while you writhed from the pain in your buttocks.

“Of course the king told me after I went to plead for you,” Mrs. Inoue snorted. “You better apologize tonight, or I myself will tell the king to kill you for being a dumbass.” With that warning, she handed you a letter that was in her pocket.

You took the white envelope with a frown. It had a wax seal with a golden rose painted on it. It was an official letter from King Sukuna. You didn't hesitate to open it with trembling hands. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw what it was.

His Majesty, King Sukuna Ryomen, extends to you a most gracious invitation to attend the illustrious White Flower Ball.

For the first time in a millennium, you have been bestowed the rare honor of joining this exclusive and momentous occasion, held this evening within the grand halls of the castle. Enclosed with this letter is a gown crafted especially for you, befitting the grandeur of the event.

It is my fervent hope that you will accept this invitation and join me for an evening of unparalleled splendor—one that I assure you will remain etched in your memory forever.

With the deepest of regards,Sukuna Ryomen

“What the fuck?” Mrs. Inoue pulled your cheek for cursing.

It was just what you needed to reassure yourself that you weren’t dreaming. You weren’t one to curse just like that, but your mouth dropped it before you could say anything else. Your bottom lip was on the floor and your heart was racing in circles from excitement. You read the letter over and over to make sure your reading comprehension was still working.

“And you haven’t seen the best part yet,” Mrs. Inoue said excitedly before picking up a box that was hidden behind the door to the next room.

You took the huge box to place it on your bed. You undid the red bow with ease and opened it. There was a white silk dress next to a diamond tiara with matching earrings. Mrs. Inoue held you so you wouldn’t faint from the shock. It was so beautiful that you couldn’t utter a word. “Does this mean the king isn’t upset with me?” you thought.

“You better apologize to that good man, girl.” Mrs. Inoue waved an accusatory finger.

“Did he just call the king a ‘good man’?” you asked, confused.

“My grandson is a tyrant to everyone but you,” Mrs. Inoue said before leaving your room to let the king know that she had already fulfilled her part of the plan.

“Your grandson?” That only left you more confused.

Sukuna examined the new windows with great attention. The pattern was the same as the originals, but instead of the glass being red, they were transparent like any other. Uraume was updating him on the situation, kneeling before him and with their head down. He had both pairs of arms crossed as he imagined how the events had occurred on that strange night.

“I detailed it in the report I sent you the same night of the attack. I don't know why it didn't reach you, my king,” Uraume stuttered nervously, about to burst into tears for having failed in their main task: protecting the castle.

“Surely the messenger you sent was killed by those crows if they are as powerful as you say,” Sukuna theorized. “Do you know the reasoning behind the attack?”

“50 cursed weapons were stolen from the weapons room, my king,” Uraume answered.

“I see.” Sukuna whispered to himself as he looked at the panorama through the glass.

There was a crow flying in the sky in the distance. Crows were a common bird in the area, so the person behind the attack had surely been spying on them for some time. With that information, it would be difficult to find the perpetrators. He already had some hypotheses in mind, but he would have to wait to solve them. Sukuna pricked up his ears as he heard a sob behind him. Uraume was crying softly as they clenched their white kimono, their hands red from the effort to contain themself. He lowered their head to their hands in a sign of mercy.

“I'm sorry I failed you, my king,” Uraume apologized.

“There was nothing you could do.” Sukuna concluded.

“If I hadn't fainted, I swear…” Uraume tried to defend themselves, full of frustration.

“Enough.” The king's word echoed through the hall. “I'm at peace that you only fainted and didn't die like everyone else.”

A warm shock hit Uraume's chest. As soon as they looked up, the king was already kneeling in front of them, with a hand on their albino head to stop them from lamenting what happened.

“I know what you are capable of, and what you can do.” Sukuna reassured them. “So raise your head, we have work to do.”

“If you didn't get my report, why did you bring all those curses?” Uraume asked as they wiped the tears with their loose sleeve.

“This ball isn't going to organize itself.”

“Ball?” Uraume asked, confused.

The night seemed to fall with a desperate slowness, too much to contain your excitement. Each minute felt eternal as you turned on your axis, watching how the wide skirt of your dress fluttered gracefully. You adjusted the top of the outfit for the tenth time, unable to control your nerves. The corset, tight to the chest, enhanced your figure without sacrificing elegance.

Your favorite detail was the sleeves: they fell softly, light, like newly opened petals, adding an ethereal touch to your appearance. The sparkling tiara and delicate diamond necklace caught the light like dewdrops at dawn, completing the illusion of a radiant flower in its full splendor. You felt like a daisy awakening with the first rays of the sun, fresh and dazzling. Sukuna had outdone himself with his choice this time.

There was a knock at the door. “Miss. The ball is about to begin.”

You didn’t recognize the voice, but curiosity drove you to run to the door. As you opened it, an exquisite fragrance enveloped you, stopping you in your tracks. Instead of an unfamiliar face, the first thing you saw were two long rows of white roses and daisies adorning the hallway. The flowers covered everything. They overflowed from the decorative vases, sprouted from the helmets of the armor, and seemed to fill every corner with their fragile splendor. You had never seen so many flowers together, but surprisingly, they were not what completely captured your attention.

At the end of the hallway, the king was waiting for you. His imposing figure was wrapped in an impeccable red kimono; his hair, perfectly coiffed, further enhanced his elegance. In his arms, he carried a huge bouquet of red roses, so large that it seemed made by him and only him. Your heart raced at the sight, and a fleeting thought crossed your mind: “Am I dreaming?”

He approached you, with determined and confident steps, while you remained motionless, trapped in the tangle of emotions that invaded you. You felt like a fool, unable to do anything other than observe him from a distance, trying to process what was happening. The thousands of flowers, the dress, the dance… and him, wearing his most elegant kimono.

“Flies are going to get in.” Sukuna placed a hand under your chin to shut your mouth.

“I don’t understand, my king,” you whispered, confused.

“What don’t you understand?” His hand traveled down your jaw to hold your head under your ear.

“The dance? The dress? All of this? Why? I don’t deserve any of this after what I said back in the Zen’in realm.” You tried to lower your head in sorrow, but he held your head up high so you could look him in the eyes.

“I realized it was my fault that this happened in the first place. I should have protected you on enemy land, but because of my selfish wishes, it drew even more attention to you.” His thumb caressed your cheek tenderly as he looked you straight in the eyes so you knew he was serious. “I’m going to show you now and for the rest of your life that you made the right choice by standing next to me.”

Your pulse was racing so fast that you didn’t know if it was from excitement or a heart attack. Who the hell was this before you, and what had he done with the cursed tyrant? This was more than dreamlike, it was crazy. You thought he would be upset and ignore you more than before you got engaged, but you were glad he didn't. Sukuna placed the large bouquet of roses in your arms, they were so heavy that you almost fell on your back.

"Thank you," you said with your face hidden among the flowers before entering your room to leave the large bouquet on your bed. Any vase would break under the weight.

"Will you do me the great honor of taking you to the ball tonight?" Sukuna offered his hand along with a bow of respect.

"It would be an honor," you took his hand with a big smile on your face.

Sukuna took your hand and pulled it towards him so that your arm was wrapped around his lower arm. They walked through the flower-filled hallway. As they reached the end, you looked back to take one last look before heading to the Great Hall. Sukuna noticed this with curiosity and stopped.

“The flowers will be there when you come back,” he reminded you with a smile, he was glad that you liked it.

“I know, it’s just that it’s a beautiful gesture. I could spend all day admiring them,” you said without taking your eyes off them.

Sukuna gently let go of your arm. You followed him with a confused look as he knelt down in front of the flowers. The king picked out the prettiest daisies with his eyes and pulled them from the bouquets. He placed the flowers in your hair carefully, fitting them between the tiara to make sure they stayed there all night. Sukuna took a moment to scan your body with his penetrating gaze. You never failed to impress him with how good you looked in the pieces he picked out for you. The soft fabric of the dress contrasted with your skin tone, shining like a star in the sky.

“I prefer to admire you all day and all night, because not a million flowers compare to you.” Sukuna took your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“Who are you and what did you do to King Sukuna?” You asked, surprised by his touch.

“I’m all yours.” Sukuna leaned down to kiss your cheek. Your face lit up like a flame. “What’s going on?!” you thought in shock.

“It’s my pleasure to introduce King Sukuna Ryomen and his fiancée, Y/N!” The curse announced their arrival to the Great Hall at the top of their lungs.

The guests, servants, and curses welcomed them with enthusiastic applause, filling the air with vibrant energy. Your face lit up as you took in the scene. Everyone looked elegant, wrapped in fine white clothing, and let themselves be carried away by the joyful music that resonated in the hall. It was almost unreal to witness a celebration where curses and humans lived together in harmony, sharing laughter and moments as if the differences between both worlds had completely disappeared.

Kenjaku masterfully conducted an orchestra made up of curses, whose sounds intertwined in a mesmerizing melody. Meanwhile, Mahito chatted animatedly with an Uraume clearly annoyed by having worked all day. The hall was a spectacle in itself, decorated with an infinity of white flowers that adorned every corner and radiated an ethereal atmosphere. Above the dance floor, the imposing crystal chandeliers cast golden sparkles, elegantly illuminating the couples who moved to the beat of the music.

A new song began to play, and with it came the charming chaos of the servants rushing to find a partner. Mrs. Inoue pulled Mr. Wasuke towards the dance floor, despite his protests of not wanting to abandon his glass of wine. You observed the scene with a wide smile, infected by the collective joy.

From his place, Sukuna gave you a fleeting glance. Noticing how fascinated you were by the spectacle, a light smile curved his lips. Your excitement pleased him. The evening, more than an event for everyone, had been designed especially for you after all.

“May I have this dance?” Sukuna introduced himself with a bow.

“Of course, my king.” You introduced yourself as well.

Sukuna pulled you towards him with a smile on his face. Two of his hands held you tightly by the waist and one of his strong hands slowly intertwined with yours, taking his time to caress every millimeter of your skin. He took the lead immediately. You joined the others on the dance floor. You thought the king would forget his steps or have trouble with the rhythm, but he danced like he was already used to it.

“Your dancing is marvelous,” you complimented before spinning around.

“I had some help,” he looked away. “A lot of help,” he corrected.

You followed his gaze and found Mrs. Inoue, who, with a mischievous smile, gave him a thumbs up. Apparently, she had taken matters into her own hands when she noticed that the king had no idea how to behave around a lady. With her newfound enthusiasm, she had offered him a rush course in etiquette: from how to dance and flirt to the proper way to act chivalrously to impress you on this big night. And boy had she succeeded.

You gave your friend a knowing smile before turning your eyes back to the king, but he was already watching you, his gaze filled with such intense adoration that it made heat rise to your cheeks. Unable to help it, your smile widened, lighting up your face.

The song was coming to an end, and with it the crucial moment was approaching. You felt Sukuna’s hands slide firmly down your back, while the other descended to hold your knee. Your body began to lean towards the ground in an elegant movement, but you couldn’t stop the memories of the last time from flooding over you. The fall was still fresh in your memory, and nerves took over you.

Instinctively, you brought a hand to your shoulder, holding on tightly, prepared in case it happened again. However, something in the security of his grip and the intensity of his gaze gave you a spark of confidence. Maybe this time it would be different.

“I’m not going to let you go.” He whispered to you, reading the worry in your eyes. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

You knew he meant the dance step, but you wished it was more than that. You wanted it to be a lifelong promise. That he would be with you against all odds, through poverty and illness, until death took you from his side. The applause brought you back to reality. Sukuna put your feet back on the ground. You clapped as you glanced at him, wondering what he was thinking. Luckily for you, the same as you.

Mahito quickly approached you as the next song started. “Miss, may I have this piece?” You were about to answer, but the king stepped in.

“Get lost.” Sukuna growled before sending him flying away from the dance floor with a push. A few curses mocked the commander at the sudden occurrence.

“You didn't have to be so harsh, my king.” You sometimes forgot how strong he could be without even trying.

“From now on, I won't let anyone get close to you.”

“Isn't that a bit excessive?” You asked timidly.

“Not when it comes to you,” he said before pulling you towards him again to continue dancing the night away.

The night was still young and this was already the best of your life. You had never felt so happy as that night. You danced the night away to the music, chatted with some curious maids about your trip to the Zen'in kingdom, and drank a few glasses of wine. You were having a great time, but you still needed to apologize to the king, as you had promised Lady Inoue.

“My king, may I have a moment?” You asked, referring to the fact that you could talk in private.

“A lifetime if you want,” he answered confidently. “If he keeps talking like that, I’ll collapse,” you thought, feeling your knees turn to jelly.

You left the great hall and walked towards the bridges that connected the towers, seeking the relief of the cool night air. From there, you could see how the streetlights of the city glowed with a warm light, while the hills of the commune remained plunged in gloom. There was something deeply melancholic in that contrast: such a beautiful place, forced to hide in darkness when it could shine brighter than the city of curses itself.

The castle had its charm, and you couldn’t deny that you had learned to appreciate it. However, that sight reminded you of how much you missed home. Not just the physical place, but what it represented to you: a refuge, an identity, a sense of belonging that now felt distant and almost unattainable.

You hugged yourself, seeking comfort in your own arms as your eyes wandered beyond the streetlights, trying to find something in the distance that would calm the longing that was beating in your chest.

“Are you cold?” Sukuna asked.

He didn’t wait for your answer to take off his haori and placed it over your shoulders, leaving him completely exposed from the waist up. The warmth returned to you as you saw his perfectly carved body. The piece was too big for you, but it protected you from the cold wind that blew through the peak. You thanked him with a smile. Even though you loved the king, you were doing the right thing by acting in the shadows to protect your home from the chaos he was about to unleash.

“I wanted to apologize to you.” You started the conservation, but Sukuna waved his hand at you to stop.

“We can talk about it later. I want you to remember this night as one of the best in your life.”

“Still, it doesn’t seem fair to me. At least let me apologize for the letter, I…”

“Mrs. Inoue already confessed everything.”

“But she didn’t tell you the reason why I did it.” Sukuna raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “I hid from you that I wrote the letter to get revenge for what happened in the greenhouse. It was childish. I’m sorry.” You apologized with your head down.

“Then I’m to blame,” Sukuna declared.

Planning a ball was easy. Getting all the flowers from the open field, too. Manipulating an entire nation, a simple move. Even defeating King Jogo was no big deal. But facing this conversation… That was another story. 

His throat closed, stifling the words before they could form. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, a desperate attempt to hold on to where he was standing, to not give in to the impulse to flee. His entire body begged him to stop, that there was still time to turn back, to take refuge again in the facade he had built and perfected for over a thousand years.

Everything was easy, except this. Except looking into your eyes, those eyes that, with a single glance, managed to melt the cold armor he had spent so long forging.

“I hurt you on purpose because…” He blurted out in a small voice. “Just do it, damn it!” he scolded himself. “I’m terrified.”

“You? Terrified?” You blinked a couple of times, confused.

“Every time I’m with you, I feel weak, vulnerable, soft…” He confessed. “But I’ve never felt so alive in my life.”

You gasped as your king knelt in front of you. He took your hand gently, caressing your knuckles with his thumb. His face outlined by the lights of the lanterns combined with the blush of the moon. His rubies didn’t convey that roughness you were used to, but a hope you’d never seen before.

“Every time you touch me, my skin turns to glass. Every time you smile, I melt under your warmth. Every time you look at me… you make me feel human again.”

“Human?!” You opened your eyes wide upon hearing that. How could the king of curses, a giant with four arms and two pairs of eyes, be human? Mahito and Kenjaku seemed more human than him. You wanted to laugh at how absurd it sounded, but his serious face stopped you.

“You are my greatest weakness, but that only makes me strive to be stronger to protect you, my beloved daisy.” Sukuna planted a kiss on your knuckles. “I may be a king, but allow me to serve you for the rest of my life.” His lips ran over each of your fingers until they reached the back.

“I am definitely going to faint” you thought, barely supporting your weight on your heels. Your heart was burning with love for the man at your feet. A year ago you were the one on your knees cleaning his ears, bathing him or letting him step on you for his entertainment. You still couldn't believe how much things had changed.

“It may be late to start, but it's never too late to try again.” Sukuna said before taking a small box out of his pocket.

“I could promise to bring you the moon, the stars and the entire galaxy, but promising those things is too simple. I want to promise you something that no one else can get for you. On this beautiful night, I want to promise you that I will love you like I have not been loved in a thousand years of my life.” Sukuna opened the box to reveal the engagement ring he gave you in the Jogo kingdom. “I am not interested in being the king of curses when I can be your faithful husband.”

“My king…” You sobbed at the beautiful words.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, a thousand times yes!” You exclaimed before jumping into his arms.

He pulled you against his body, letting a big sigh escape his lips. He held your head against his shoulder as you cried from the euphoria that ran through your body. He smiled to himself as he heard you repeat “yes” in excitement. He placed the shiny ring on your finger.

“I love you, my king,” you said as he wiped away your tears.

“Please call me Sukuna,” he begged.

“I love you, Sukuna,” you repeated.

Hearing his name leave your lips ignited something inside him, a desire he wasn’t willing to ignore. Like a good king, he didn’t waste a second to claim what he wanted. With determination, he took your face in his hands and sealed your lips with a kiss full of passion. His movements were a perfect mix of tenderness and dominance: while his mouth delicately explored yours, his hands, firm on your hips, pulled you tightly towards his body. The need he had repressed for more than a week overflowed in that instant. Every gesture of his spoke of longing and desperation.

The lack of air forced them to separate, but they both smiled, their faces warm and small clouds of steam escaping from their ragged breaths. Sukuna lifted you into his arms with an ease that made you feel light as a feather, and rested his forehead against yours. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, ready to seek out his lips again.

However, a thunderous round of applause interrupted them. They turned to the large windows of the great hall, and there they were, all the servants and curses, crowded together and watching the spectacle in fascination. Some cheered, others laughed, and in the middle of them, Lady Inoue sobbed uncontrollably, tears of happiness running down her cheeks.

“It’s about time,” Kenjaku complained to Uraume.

“First a ball, now a wedding. Give me a break,” Uraume shook their head.

The night was still young in the Zen’in kingdom. In the dim candlelight, the commander sat at the desk in his room. Naoya was a man of many talents, but there was one in particular that few knew about. With precise movements, he drew fine lines on the paper, outlining the figure of a naked woman, gracefully reclining on an elegant armchair.

His hands detailed each feature: the hair waving softly, the eyes seemed to look beyond the paper, and that smile… That smile that, since the last time he saw her, had disturbed his nights with its dazzling memory. Without realizing it, Naoya had captured in the drawing, every inch of her body, covered only by a sheet that accentuate your silhouette, sensual and delicate.

While he contemplated his work, his imagination transported him to that scene he had created. He saw himself approaching you, slowly, as if afraid of interrupting your peaceful rest on a velvet armchair next to a window from where the warm light of summer bathed the environment inside. With unusual tenderness, he brushed a lock of hair from your face, admiring the perfection of your shapes: the bare breasts, the hypnotic curve of your waist.

Desire began to burn inside him, palpable beneath the silk of his robe. It was then that your eyes slowly opened, still heavy from sleep, and you found him there, so close that you could feel his breathing. Before you could fully react, Naoya caught your lips in a passionate kiss, intense and full of repressed longing.

Your hands, trembling, but firm, slid over his bare chest, exploring every detail under the fine fabric. In a determined gesture, you opened his robe, revealing his arousal, and in that instant, both of you let yourselves be carried away by the inevitable attraction that consumed you.

“Commander…” You moaned on his lips before reaching his cock.

“Commander!” Another voice woke him from sleep.

Naoya screamed when he realized that his cousin, Ranta, had entered his room without permission while he was masturbating. The young man looked at him, perplexed by such a scandal. Naoya closed his leather notebook before closing his robe, completely blushing.

“Who the fuck gave you permission to enter?!” The commander scolded him.

“I knocked on the door like three times, I thought you were asleep,” Ranta defended himself, still confused. It was the first time he saw Naoya so upset and blushing. “Were you perhaps seeing something forbidden?” He mocked him with a hint of morbidity.

“No!” Naoya barked.

“I don’t believe you,” Ranta braced himself.

“I don’t give a shit if you don’t…!” Naoya’s body completely froze mid-sentence under his cousin’s technique. He was in trouble.

Ranta ran to the notebook to discover what his commander was hiding. In it, he found illustrations of landscapes, animals, and some familiar ones, but he stopped at the one he was currently working on.

“Wow… She’s so sexy. Who is she? She looks familiar,” Ranta wondered as he inspected the drawing closely. “Wait… Isn’t that that girl from the ball in the red dress? The maid… What was her name?” Ranta undid his technique.

“Y/n!” Naoya answered before snatching the notebook from him.

“Y/n… Yeah right,” Ranta reminded you. “Do you like her?”

“What? No way. She’s just attractive, that’s all.” Naoya denied having any feelings for you. Rather, he denied it to himself.

“Yeah, right.” Ranta rolled his eyes, knowing that this conversation was going nowhere. “I came by order of the king.”

“The king?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yes. He told me that all of us from The Hei will accompany him to the meeting of allied sorcerers.”

The Hei was an organization made up of the most powerful sorcerers of the Zen’in family, which was led by Naoya. The commander knew King Toji and his wife would go to the meeting of allied sorcerers that takes place every semester in the Gojo Kingdom. What he didn’t understand was why King Toji needed the Hei when only the kings can enter the room.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” Ranta told him.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m going to sleep, I’ll leave you alone with your drawing.” His cousin scoffed before leaving the room.

“Fuck you,” Naoya muttered before slamming the door shut.

He blew out the candles before finally going to bed. He closed his eyes and there you were in your red dress and unfriendly face. The chances of him seeing you again were painfully slim, but it was for the best. He was a commander, he didn’t need some random maid distracting him. He hit his pillow a few times to get comfortable. He tried to close his eyes again, but there you were again, letting King Gojo kiss you while he watched through a hole in the wall, wishing to take the albino’s place for at least a second.

“Get the fuck out of my head!” Naoya screamed into his pillow in frustration.

The dance had come to an end. The servants rested in their beds, exhausted from the evening, while the curses took their positions of vigilance, silent shadows under the moonlight. In the great hall, the guests of honor still raised glasses of wine, immersed in conversations bathed in laughter and secrets.

Sukuna, with his imposing bearing and confident walk, guided you along the path of flowers that led to your room. The fragrance of the petals, mixed with the night breeze, was a balm that intoxicated the senses. At his side, you felt the world blur into a whisper, and the only reality was his presence.

You could not contain the smile that curved your lips, a mixture of happiness and slight disbelief. The sweet words he had whispered to you during the night still echoed in your mind, warm and tempting, like a promise you could not ignore.

“This was the best night of my life. Thank you so much.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but only reached his jaw.

“I’m glad you had fun. I understand why you like these balls so much.” Sukuna leaned down a little so you could give him a proper kiss on the cheek. “You must be tired from all that dancing. You should go to sleep.”

“I will.” Sukuna opened the door for you.

“Good night, my daisy.” He gave you one last kiss on the lips before leaving. If he stayed one more second, who knows what he was capable of doing to spend the rest of the night with you.

You took a step towards your room, but it felt wrong to enter alone. He was still in the same hallway, but you missed him already. You didn’t want him to leave. You really wanted to thank him for the unforgettable dance he planned for you, but words wouldn’t be enough. You smiled to yourself as you had a terrible idea.

“Sukuna.” The sweetness of his name coming out of your mouth made him stop suddenly. “Could you do me a favor?”

“How may I help you?” he asked as he returned to you.

“Mrs. Inoue surely already went to sleep. Would you help me untie my corset?” you asked timidly.

You took the haori off your shoulders and stepped out of the dress to be left in your corset and petticoat. Sukuna gulped as he saw your exposed skin in front of him. He had seen you naked before, why was he so nervous? This time, he understood what it meant for you to let him see you like that. Beyond love, it was trust.

His hands slowly traveled down your hips until they reached the bow of the corset on your lower back. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you felt his fingers brush the bare skin that peeked out over the petticoat. His hands trembled at the light contact. Now he understood that every touch, caress and feel counted to make you feel. He pulled one of the ribbons to undo the bow with agonizing slowness. He opened the corset little by little while his empty hands ran over your waist that he managed to expose. There was no turning back now.

The corset fell to the floor. Sukuna kissed your neck while his hands molded to your waist and breasts. You gasped as he pulled you towards his burly torso. His giant hands covered your breasts completely, kneading them like a baker in the morning. Your body involuntarily moved towards him. You stroked his pink hair as you opened the opening for him to fully explore your neck.

His thumbs hooked into your slip to pull it down along with your underwear. He caressed your legs on the way down. He cupped your ass and gave it a couple of slaps to watch it bounce. You smiled at the tickling. You kicked the slipway from you before clinging closer to the king with a mischievous smile. Your eyes widened as you felt the large bulge against your ass. You had imagined that since he was big, his member was too. But it was the erection that rubbed against you that was terribly large.

“You know I'm impatient,” Sukuna purred in your ear. “I can't wait until the wedding, tonight I'm going to make you the mother of my children.”

Sukuna carried you over his shoulder. He removed the bouquet of roses from the bed to lay you down on the bed, leaving you at the edge of it. The leftover rose petals tickled your skin. Sukuna knelt in front of you and spread your legs.

“What are you doing?” You moaned as soon as his thumb passed through the wet folds of your vulva.

“Preparing my dinner,” he answered before inserting his index finger.

A moan escaped your lips as soon as he invaded your body. It was intrusive, thick, tight. He slid his finger slowly, going deeper each time. Your flushed face was a work of art, and your moans were the best symphony he had ever heard. His cocks already wanted to escape from his pants, they will have their turn. First, he had to make sure you were wet, as the erotic books dictated. Sukuna reached your breasts to caress your nipples, erect from the cold. He pinched them gently, eliciting a moan from you. You covered your face in embarrassment of him seeing you like this. He moved up to your body and removed your hands that were blocking his sight.

“Let me see you, I want to make sure you like it,” he whispered before kissing your forehead.

He intertwined your fingers with his to keep your hands on the sides of your head. With his bottom hand he played with your nipples and the other one continued to fuck your vagina with two of his fingers. The tongue on his stomach licked your entire pussy, the tip passing directly over your clit. You arched your back as you felt him play with your button. Sukuna noticed and focused on having his tongue licking your clit. The tsunami of sensations was too much, almost unbearable. Sukuna attacked you from all possible sides, without leaving any place untouched. You squeezed your legs against his sides in an attempt to contain your body.

His lips traveled down your neck and down your shoulder. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and licked your nipple in circles. His predatory eyes on you made you feel small and harmless, like a hare in the jaws of a tiger. He continued his journey kissing your abdomen and focusing on your stomach. He held your hips under your legs as he heard your insides moving inside you.

“What do you want to have first? Girl or boy?” Sukuna asked you.

“As long as they’re healthy, I'll be happy.” You pull his hair tenderly.

“But if you could choose.” Sukuna insisted.

“A boy to give you the heir you want so much.” 

“A girl could also be my heir. If she's as strong as her mother, I'll be more than happy.” He said before continuing to kiss your thighs.

Even though you were in a situation where you couldn't think of anything else but your carnal needs, you couldn't help but evoke a smile, thinking of Sukuna with his baby in his arms. You had no idea what kind of father your future husband would be, but you were sure he would be a good one, or at least a decent one.

Sukuna snatched you from your domestic thoughts as soon as his mouth infiltrated your vagina. You arched your back as you felt him eat your core like he hadn't had a bite in years. He held your thighs tightly so you wouldn't close up to him. His tongue focused on pressing that button that made you moan louder. Your pussy tasted so good that he didn't want to stop anytime soon.

“'Kuna…” You gasped, holding onto the sheets.

Sukuna smiled against your pussy. It was the first time someone had called him an abbreviation like that. He bit one of your lips carefully to suck it slowly, causing an injection of adrenaline to run through your body.

“I won't last long if you keep going like this…” You admitted.

“You're going to last until I tell you to.” “That’s the king I know” you thought.

Sukuna pulled down his pants, letting out his monstrosity. Or rather, both of his monstrosities. Your mouth dropped in shock. There was no way those things would get inside you. The king approached your body, but you backed away in fear.

“What's wrong?” He asked, confused.

“You're crazy if you think that's going to fit in,” you stammered.

“A baby is going to come out of there, I think it can,” he told you before taking possession of your body.

You swallowed dryly when you saw him on top of you. You were about to defend yourself, but Sukuna shut you up, sliding one of his cocks through the wet folds. You took his arms when you felt how well he molded on you. Sukuna let out a curse from his lips, it felt much better than his hand.

“Be careful. I've been told that the first time hurts,” you whispered, embarrassed.

“Whatever my queen asks for,” he placed a kiss on your forehead to take away your worries.

He took his lower member and slowly introduced it into your intimacy, while the other rested between your lips. It was big, thick, tight. It was abysmal, but it felt so good against your walls. He went all the way in, breaking your walls. A pang made you let out a small tear of pain. Sukuna quickly kissed your tear away.

He slowly moved his hips against you. He growled against your ear at how tight you were. You wrapped around his cock so tightly that he thought he was in heaven even though he deserved hell. He fought with every fiber of his body against his instinct not to move like an animal in heat, he had to make sure you felt good.

The pang of pain was exchanged for a feeling of pleasure and fullness that you had never experienced before. Your fingers ran down his back as you felt every inch and vein against you. Your nipples brushed against his soft pecs, while the tongue on his stomach played with your clit.

Hearing you moan again, Sukuna immediately knew he could keep going. He moved his hips harder to hit your core. You grabbed his hair to pull him against you. A moan escaped his lips at that minimal display of control. Even though he liked to say that you were all his, the truth was that he was all yours without any kind of restriction.

“You’re taking it very well,” Sukuna congratulated you before biting your neck.

“It feels good,” you moaned against his ear.

Sukuna picked up the speed with each thrust. He was getting faster and harder that at some point you thought you were going to break. He took possession of your hips and raised his back to see you from above, an image that used to terrify you, but now excited you.

“God…” You gasped.

“Don't you dare bring another man into this,” he scolded you before giving you a spank that echoed through the room.

You howled in pain, but Sukuna didn't stop. He continued to fuck you with what little he had left. The climax wasn't about to take long. It was hard to hold back with the beautiful sight before him. Your legs spread before him still wearing the heels with small flowers on the ribbons, your breasts bouncing with each rough movement and your face flushed. He bit his lower lip before continuing to fuck you as only he could. The combination of their two wet cocks was too powerful to bear. You clawed at his thighs in an attempt to calm your cravings, but it was no use as you heard your fiancé moan.

“I need to cum,” you whispered.

“Almost there, a few more minutes, my love,” he babbled in ecstasy.

This was definitely not the curse, I mean, the man you were used to. Despite his great muscles, he had a harmless look full of pleasure. He continued to pump your center with firm and fast thrusts until his cock twitched.

“Only you can do this to me, my daisy,” he growled before continuing to fuck you hard.

You arched your back as you felt he had no mercy on your small body. His tip rubbed perfectly against your G-spot making it harder not to cum. You moaned his name over and over again until the expected climax hit your intimacy. Sukuna didn't let you rest until he came in and out of you, leaving your body full of his semen.

You both sighed heavily as if he had finished training. His arms were resting on the sides of your head so as not to crush you. Sukuna kissed your forehead before pulling out of you, leaving a trail of milk at your entrance. He laid down next to you to let you breathe a little, but to his surprise, you hugged his chest tightly.

“That felt really good,” you whispered to him shyly.

“It's something I've wanted to do for a long time,” he confessed with an embarrassed smile.

“Sukuna, what a perverted man you are,” you scolded him with a playful smile.

“Blame your teacher for that. Every time I read his books, I can't help but think of you,” he told you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

Sukuna got out of bed to look for a rag to clean you with. You laid down on the bed with a smile plastered on your face as the king cleaned up his remains from you. Now he was the one cleaning you up. “Oh, the twists and turns of life” you thought amused.

“What are you thinking about?” Sukuna asked you as he saw your face.

“What names can we give our children.” You lied so he wouldn’t feel embarrassed.

“Good, because  you’ll choose” Sukuna said before throwing the cloth aside.

“Why not choose them together?” You pouted before he tucked you in.

“Because you’ll be carrying him for nine months. I’ll agree to whatever name you choose.” Sukuna kissed your lips before laying down next to you.

He snuggled into your body. You smiled as you remembered the first time you slept together in his big bed. You were terrified that you would do something wrong while he was sleeping like a cute little kitten. You were going to remind him of that day until you noticed that he had already fallen completely asleep. You kissed his arm before walking with him, as you would do for the rest of your life.

Masterlist.

A/N: So after some consideration, I need a break from this fic because I wanna work on other fics I have kinda abandoned because of this one. Plus, I want to write an original novel! I'll be updating about it here, thanks for your support and understanding, happy holidays! :3

taglist:

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @danniwerner @paradisestarfishh @missroro

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

[em-harlsnow]

heyy i've never sent an ask before but i just need to tell you that debbie's tiktok is my new favourite thing 😭😭 i genuinely can't stop thinking about them doing different trends and how the fans would react. like imagine a qna with questions from the comments or something with more of the family like a who knows me best: brother/sister vs husband

YES okay. I've been stressed all day and I need this. (Also rewarding myself with writing because I got a result back for some coursework and I was so happy with it)

part 4 of Debbie's TikTok

So Debbie sets up the camera again in the kitchen. Ian and Mickey are less annoyed this time after they realised that she was actually paying them good money for this. She has a list on her phone filled with comments on the introduction to Mickey video.

"Okay, so you're gonna be answering some questions together." Debbie starts. It's the first time the internet will be seeing them together, and she's eager to see the reaction that will come of it. She's going to be careful not to give her audience too much of them, because then she'll get less views and attention and therefore money after they get bored.

"Yeah, you said that." Mickey says.

"She's saying it for the camera." Ian mutters loudly to his husband.

"Alright. I have a list of some of the most liked or most frequent questions asked. The first one is when did you get married?" Debbie asks, ignoring their little comments.

Mickey stares at the side of Ian's head, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Ian asks.

"You better fucking know the answer." Mickey says.

"Of course I do, asshole. Three and a half months ago." Ian answers, smugly grinning in Mickey's face.

"Yep." Debbie says. "It was a really nice day. Next, who proposed to who?" One of the most frequent comments was actually who fucks who, but she doesn't think that's something that should be on the internet. She thinks it's shitty that people think they have the right to know that. She's actually pretty mad that she knows the answer to the question, because it just shows how loud Ian and Mickey are.

"He did." Mickey says. "Because he was being a dick."

Ian sighs. "Yeah, I did."

"Twice." Mickey adds, sulkily.

"We're married, Mickey. And I know you aren't actually still mad about that. You're just looking for something to bitch about." Ian grumbles, flicking Mickey's ear.

"No, I'm not."

"I proposed. And I had a whole speech prepared, but Mickey cut me off. Then he made me repeat it later." Ian says, smiling at the tips of his mouth.

Mickey smirks, leaning back in his chair. He's switched to smug, now. "Yeah."

"Next question was how old were you when you got together?" Debbie asks, planning on letting them have their little arguments and banter and deciding which parts to cut out later. Their dynamic will definitely give her good content.

"I was fifteen." Ian says. "You were... sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Sixteen." Mickey answers. "But that was the first time we fucked, not when we were together."

"Oh, well yeah." Ian agrees. "We were like 18 and 19 or something when we actually got together."

"Yeah." Mickey agrees.

"Okay. So, who's more romantic?" Debbie asks. It's not a particularly long list, but they both talk a lot, so it will make a decent video.

"I am." Ian says.

"Neither of us." Mickey says at the same time.

"I'm romantic." Ian argues, pouting about it.

"How?"

"I made you breakfast yesterday."

"Then you called me fat when I stole your PopTart." Mickey mutters.

"I did not fucking call you fat. I called you greedy, because you were being greedy." Ian says, appalled and gaping at Mickey.

"Maybe you were being greedy by not sharing your fucking PopTarts." Mickey pouts.

"I'm plenty romantic, Mickey. I arrange all our things."

"What things?"

"Like going on dates and shit. I arrange that."

"Yeah? Well I suck your monster dick all the time, so shut the fuck up."

"That's not romantic!" Ian shouts.

"Yes it is! It's something you fucking like. It's 'acts of service'." Mickey replies, eyebrows high on his forehead.

"You read that article I sent you? About love languages?" Ian asks, losing focus on the argument. It's not even an argument, anyway, considering neither of them are raising their voices.

Mickey shrugs. "I skimmed it."

Ian smiles at him. "Thanks."

"Fuck you." Mickey mutters, rolling his eyes when Ian puts his arm around his shoulder.

Debbie scrolls to the next question. "What's the key to having a solid relationship?" She asks.

Mickey grimaces and Ian gives a similar expression.

"Fucking a lot?" Mickey suggests.

"Shut up." Ian says, rolling his eyes. "We don't just fuck."

"We do fuck a lot, though."

"Not all the time." Ian says, widening his eyes at Mickey like he's trying to communicate without speaking. Debbie knows enough about them to tell that it's probably something to do with Ian's bipolar. How when he's low, they don't fuck at all. Or at least Debbie hopes they don't fuck at all. She knows Mickey, knows Mickey would definitely not do that.

Mickey sighs, losing the unspoken argument. "Yeah, fine. We don't just fuck."

Ian turns back to Debbie. "I don't know. There's no key. We just look after each other. We're good at telling each other when we're pissed off."

"Yeah." Mickey agrees, not having much to add.

"The next one's pretty deep, so if you don't want to answer it you don't have to. Or I don't have to put it in the video. But it's for Mickey. One person DMed me and asked how you cope as a partner of someone with bipolar disorder. They said they were struggling." Debbie says, a little embarrassed to be asking so she keeps her eyes down. A couple people DMed her about it.

Ian scoffs a little at the word 'cope', but ultimately stares at Mickey and waits for his answer. Clearly more concerned with what Mickey thinks about it more than the implications of the question.

"How do they know he's bipolar?" Mickey asks, brows furrowed.

"Because his arrest was all over the news." Debbie replies. "I haven't spoken about it on TikTok."

"Oh. I don't know." Mickey replies. "It's not... I dunno. It's just something that's there. It's never been a question for me, we just deal with whatever fucking happens with it. It's like, everyone has some kind of shit. I'll cope with whatever I fucking have to."

"Do you want that online?" Debbie asks. "It's fine if not."

Mickey shrugs, looking to Ian. Ian seems a bit choked.

"Yeah, that's fine. People should probably hear more about mental illness and being happy." Ian says, but his arm around Mickey is strong and tight.

"Okay, well that's the only heavy one. The next one was pretty common: why did it take you ten years to get married? Oh, I guess that is sort of heavy." Debbie says.

Ian bobs his head in consideration. "Well, we were pretty young when we started. Then someone got sent to prison for a little while."

Mickey tuts at him. "False fucking accusations." He mutters. "But it was mainly prison. And my dad."

"Yeah." Ian agrees. "Mickey's dad's a prick. I hate the bastard."

"Oh, no. You've been so subtle about it." Mickey mutters sarcastically.

"It's not like you like my dad any better."

"Are you guys affectionate? A lot of people couldn't imagine you being together or like... couple-y, I guess." Debbie says. "But maybe they won't think that now that they see you together."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Mickey asks.

"We're married. Obviously we're couple-y." Ian scoffs.

"Do something couple-y then." Debbie orders.

"His arm's around my fucking shoulders. Wouldn't let anyone else do that gay shit." Mickey says, and Ian laughs.

That's great, Debbie decides. Viewers will find that funny. She clicks off the camera and lets them go, starting the editing on the video. She definitely wants to make more content of them in the future. She's planning a video with the whole family, actually, but it will be hard to get everyone free and actually make them all speak one at a time.

-> part 1, part 2, part 3

-> sorry this one's a bit shorter, but if anyone has any ideas for what questions they'd be asked or any comments which people would leave, send me an ask!

[little-diable]

Kinktober 7 - Halbrand

Finally time for the next Kinktober drabble! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🖤Use of Higher Powers🖤

Warnings: 18+, smut, use of his powers to get the reader off, lots of tension

Pairing: Halbrand x fem!reader (1k words)

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Header by the best @theanythingbuthuman

Rain was pouring from the sky, clinging to her frame as she walked towards the gate with quick steps. She had only spotted his frame a few moments ago, forcing her heart to skip a beat or two before rushing outside.

It had been too long since she had last seen him, not understanding why Galadriel had cast him out before (y/n) had then followed her master Celebrimbor to another workshop. But ever since that day her heart had ached for Halbrand‘s closeness - the man she had found herself longing for, missing the way his eyes had lingered on her frame for a few beats too long whenever they were standing close.

“(Y/n)!“ Halbrand‘s familiar voice dripped with surprise as she approached him, flinging herself into his arms before she could even begin to understand what she was doing. Not once had he touched her, they hadn’t even shared a hug before, and yet she couldn’t endure staying away from him any longer.

“What are you doing out here in the rain?“ He kept his hand placed on her lower back, familiar eyes wandering over her smiling features as she spoke. His thumb stroked along the fabric of her dress, shooting heat down her spine like lightning hitting her body.

“I fear master Celebrimbor isn‘t in a welcoming mood tonight.“ There was something close to sadness swimming in his pupils, a sadness that tugged on the strings of her heart as if her own body was held hostage by the piercing sensation.

“Come, I’ll bring you to him tomorrow, for tonight you may stay at my quarters and warm yourself.“ With her hand finding his calloused one, she began to pull him along, hurrying through the rain while trying to silence her racing thoughts. For months she had dreamt of something like this, a chance to be close to the handsome man without any disturbance, any distracting workers that reminded them of their tasks.

“You’ve always been a kind soul, have you not? I found myself drawn to that warm heart of yours since I first saw you hiding away in the shadows of that workshop.” Warmth coated her skin, forcing her breath to hitch in her chest. (Y/n)’s eyes wandered down his frame, hugged by the silence lingering in her barely alight chambers, focusing on the wounds littering his body, shining through his dirty covering.

“You’re hurt. Let me tend to your wounds.” She didn’t give him a chance to reply, leading Halbrand towards a chair before collecting what she needed. With her back turned towards him, she combed through her drawers, freezing in her search as something began to crawl up her spine - or at least something that felt like it moved. Her heart’s beat grew faster, focusing on the sensation that found her throat, lingering on it for a second before her lips began to tingle from its invisible touch.

“I’ve wondered if you feel the same draw between us, the fire no rain nor ice may dare to put out. Flames that have burned through my soul while I was forced to be away from you. I’ve dreamt of your closeness, (y/n). Tell me you’ve felt the same burning desire that stole your last sane thought.” The sensation stroked along her lips again before moving back down her throat to rest near the cleavage of her dress.

“I have, my lord.” Her voice trembled, hands dropping whatever she had tried to reach for. Only slowly did she turn towards Halbrand - who was still sitting on the chair, eyes not straying from her frame once. (Y/n)’s mind was too foggy to overthink whatever power he seemed to wield, proving to her that he was no mere mortal but a being she had every right to long for - at least that’s what it felt like at that given moment.

A gasp clawed through (y/n) the second the sensation wandered over her cleavage and down her stomach before it began to rest between her thighs. Her hands shot out to stabilise her frame, clinging to the edge of the cupboard pressing against her back, all while a smirk widened on Halbrand’s lips.

“Trust me, love, give yourself to me and let me guide you. Let me form you into the truest form of yourself while your body follows my call, be my perfect creation.” The words were too sweet, too false to let any truth cling to them, but she didn’t care, especially not as the sensation began to put pressure on her bundle of nerves. A moan clawed through (y/n), eyes fluttering close for a second while her knuckles grew a few shades lighter. “Keep your eyes on me.”

The command was spoken with more force, making her eyes shoot open to get lost in his intense gaze. Goosebumps covered her trembling body, focused on the feeling of her orgasm creeping closer. The sensation moved quicker, with more pressure to make her see stars brighter than they had ever been before, resting on Eregion’s sky.

Another moan clawed through her, followed by a proud chuckle breaking through Halbrand. The feeling of his eyes on her, watching her so close to falling apart, made her body feel as if it was on fire. Tears were about to blur her view, tears of desperation that were spurred on by the intensity of the invisible touch.

And then she came with a gasp of his name, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. A single tear made its way down her cheek, dripping off her chin the second she felt him moving, chest pressed against hers. Halbrand’s hand found her cheek, forcing (y/n) to look up at him before he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her roughly.

Moments blurred by, letting the kiss grow more hungry before they were interrupted by the sound of impatient knocking. Halbrand watched her move towards the door, staring at Celebrimbor whose eyes wandered from hers to Halbrand. “I told you to keep away from him, you swore to follow my orders, (y/n).”

“She’s more than capable of handling me.” Halbrand’s words filled the chambers, forcing her eyes back towards him as another smile began to widen on her lips. And deep down (y/n) knew that whatever may come upon them, she wouldn’t be able to part from him again.

[bernardsbendystraws]

Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

16: Wildflower & Willows

wc: 1000+

The air feels thick. I shift uncomfortably on Manon’s living room couch, my arms wrapping around myself as she sighs, looking down in her lap. This was awful, but this is what Matt insisted on, bringing me over here the second I confronted him about it. 

“It’s not what it looks like, I…” Matt’s words tread helplessly into the air. My eyes burn with hot tears, my hands shaking as I clutch onto myself. 

“Then what is it?” I ask. 

Uncertainty lingered on my tongue as my teeth pinched into my cheek. Manon clasps her palms over her knees, looking up at me with an unreadable expression. “I…” she trails off, her hands twirling around a piece of hair that falls over her shoulder, “-I should’ve told you sooner, but I… it shouldn’t affect anything with you two together. Matt - he told me to tell you and I said I did, but then he found out and I-” 

“Found out what? Just - just tell me,” I urge, breathless and confused. 

“Remember the party I dragged you to?” she questions. Three months ago. The party I met him at, sitting on those stairs, waiting for Manon to let me meet her mystery guy.

“Yeah… you never told me what happened though. How does that correlate to anything now? You…” My eyes fall to the ground, details locking together in a puzzle. 

She didn’t introduce me to the guy. Manon said she saw him flirting with another girl, and even though they weren’t official, he had never seemed that interested in her - not as much as he was with the mystery girl. 

I had spent that night floating in euphoria. Well, up until I had to hold Manon as she cried in my arms, she was so upset that it was yet another guy who just wasn’t the one. 

“I’m sorry, I… it wasn’t because of you or him. It was just… “

“It was me,” I remark, my eyes glossing over as I look at the wall. She didn’t show me pictures of the guys she talked to, I didn’t know, I couldn't have. “The girl, it was me.” 

Oh. 

It was me. I was the reason he broke things off with her the next day, I was the reason she was crying in my arms. 

It was all because of me.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I - I wouldn’t have done anything and -” My voice wavers with emotions. Manon scooches towards me on the couch, pulling me into a tight hug. 

“You didn’t need to know. I knew you and Hayden wouldn’t last, I wasn’t even upset that you wanted him, I was just… I didn’t want you to have another reason to hold back,” she whispers, clutching me tighter as I feel a warm tear strike down my face, “-I was only upset because it was just disappointing. He was a nice guy, but I think I knew deep down he wasn’t for me.”

My mind is reeling, my palms are getting clammy as I hug her back lightly. “This… it’s wrong,” I point out, shaking my head as I try to pull away to look at her. 

“No,” she soothes, pulling me in closer, “-it’s wrong I didn’t tell you sooner. And I’m sorry, you have every right to be upset. I just… I didn’t wanna pull you away from one of the only things that could make you happy. Truly.” 

Silence consumes the room. All I can hear is my thoughts running wild, my heart pounding in my chest so hard it might burst through my bones. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to feel. 

It’s just too much. 

___

The air was soft with silence but the energy was loud, anxiety pulsating throughout the room as I stared down at Matt who had shifted to his knees on the floor in front of me. 

His knees. 

“Please. Just… let’s go on this trip. See what this is, just me and you. Please,” he begs, holding my hands in his as he gazes up at me with glossy eyes. 

I can’t think. Part of me knows something isn’t right, but it also knows that it’s not necessarily wrong. I just don’t know. 

Letting out a sigh, I shake my head from side to side, watching as Matt’s face falls with sadness even more. “It - this is a lot. I… I don’t even know how to feel, Matt. This is - it’s too much,” I voice. 

Insecurity drips from my shaking tone. Matt’s warm hands callus mine softly in his hold, his lips pecking onto my knuckles. “I broke things off with her the day that I met you. I’ve known I’ve wanted you from the very start and I… I don’t wanna have to keep letting you go for the sake of convenience. I just - I need this chance. Please,” he begs, his voice almost a whisper as he rests his forehead on my hand. 

He’s known since the very start. Something about that makes me feel so… secure. Patiently and quietly, he waited, caring for me in any way he could until the pieces fell into the right place. 

What more harm could be done?

Hayden wasn’t gonna shut up about me. Manon truly did seem to mean it when she said she was only upset she didn’t tell me sooner. 

Maybe I need to push us in the right direction for once, maybe I need to take the leap of faith and let my heart guide my head instead of taking the same, familiar, heavy steps that felt like a routine of sadness. 

I drop my hands from his hold. Matt freezes. “I’ll go,” I say, tangling my fingers through his hair as I guide him to look at me. And god - I hope my eyes say the words I can’t seem to gather on my tongue. 

I hope I’m not making a bigger mistake.

[lumosflairr]

i loved your last ron smut, i need more!!

could you do ron weasley x gf!reader where they’ve been dating for only a few months but they’re already doing it almost every day cause they’re horny fucks🤭

so he pulls reader into an empty classroom & they do it on the teachers desk🤭🤭

later on fred & george whistle funnily at them cause they probably heard & hermione laughs, while ron is just shamelessly saying „at least i have game“ while smirking💀

R. Weasley/ Can’t Contain Myself

A/N: hey! i absolutely love this so much and writing this was so fun. I hope you enjoy this💌

summary: You and Ron have been dating for about 4 months, but your relationships status to the next level was passed long ago. Now that your officially his, how could he not show you almost everyday?; even if the places are quite odd.

warnings: 18+ smut!

You and Ronalds sexual relations have never been a shocker to people. While you have only been dating for a couple of months, you were both like rabbits in heat.

The first time you and Ron had sex, it was all so natural. You could feel it all and you were sure he could as well. Now ever since then, you can both barely keep your hands off one another.

You’ve had sex in plenty of places with Ron, sure,- but this was unexpected for sure.

It started off as a normal Thursday morning for you. You had gotten breakfast in the Great Hall with Hermione, Harry, and your boyfriend Ron, you headed off to transfiguration for first period with Hermione. then to second period with Hermione, Dean, and Parvati, and here you were now in Potions with so it seemed all of your friends and Ronald.

Potions was never all that fun with Snape. He always talked in big words that you’re pretty sure only Hermione can comprehend, gives a shit ton of work in class, then another shit ton for homework.

As you were sat beside Seamus getting ready to take notes, (which you were going to probably not look over later) you could feel a pair of eyes on you.

You turned to look at Seamus, whose eyes were focused on his paper. As you furrowed your brows and looked around, you turned across from you. Thats when you found the perpetrator in the act.

Who happened to be your boyfriend, practically burning holes into your head.

You looked into his eyes as his leg started to nervously bounce while he gave you a sly smile, to which you obviously returned.

“Are you alright?” You whispered, trying not to draw Snapes attention onto you. “Yeah, ‘M alright. Just miss you.” Ron gave that nervous nod and smile as his face turned pink.

You could tell something was off. You were going to ask again until you heard another voice behind you.

“Miss L/N, since you are so proficient in Pepperup Potion creation, what ingredients are used for this substance?”

As you turned you came face with an amused Snape. His eyes never left your face as you turned your eyes to your notes, praying you wrote something down.

“Well, theres.. Octopus powder..”

“Go on..”

“And.. um.. Bio..- Bicorn horn! yes, thats it!”

“…Is that all. Miss L/N?”

You dropped your head to the desk and let out an annoyed groan (which earned you some giggles from your antics by you peers.) as Snape shot daggers into you.

“I suggest that you are to keep attention in this class Miss L/N”. Snape spoke with his tone low.

You turned your attention to the clock in the class about 5 minutes before it was time to leave, so you packed your bag up and awaited to be dismissed.

As Snape gave you all permission to leave, you sped walk over to Ron and grabbed his hand. Ron gave you a smile and squeezed your hand in his and placed a kiss to your neck.

You both walked together along with Hermione and Harry to the Great Hall for lunch.

As you were seated and began to eat your meals, Ron placed his hand on your thigh and rubbed it, sometimes tracing circles over the skin. As you turned your attention away from your food and towards your boyfriend, he had that stupidity dim smirk on his face.

You could practically feel the arousal form with the placement of his hands, your cheeks turning their usual pink whenever he does these acts.

Letting out a chuckle to your body’s reaction, Ron leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Been wanting you all day. sweetheart..” He finished off the last part placing a kiss to your neck, rubbing even further up your thigh.

You grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes whenever he pulled himself away from your neck. two can play at that game, you thought to yourself. You leaned into Rons ear and whispered back, “maybe the feelings mutual then, yeah?” You finished that last part by placing your hand onto his clothed cock.

Rons eyes grew wide at your actions as you gave him an innocent smile while palming his now semi- erected member. you were going to be the absolute death of him, you and those pretty eyes.

“Could you lot please not eye fuck here?” Harry said as he lowered the daily prophet newspaper he was recently reading. “Seeing all of this in the common room, hearing it in the quidditch locker room, then being in the same dorm room while it happens is already to much”

Harry finished his sentence with an amused face. Ron started to look around at his surroundings playfully as his eyes landed back on Harry, “Well, this wouldn’t be the oddest place me ‘n her have shagged in”.

Hermione lowered her glass with her eyebrows raised while Harry gave another shocked face. Your face flushed a somehow even pinker shade as you shot Harry an “I’m sorry he sucks at realizing what TMI is” to which Harry returned with a “Please never let me hear that again” look.

You gave Ron a playful slap on his shoulder. “Ronald!” you whisper yelled at him. Ron let out a laugh as he began to continue his recent activities. His face found itself back into your neck, leaving kisses across it.

Ron fixed his mouth back to your ear, whispering to you once again. “Need you, haven’t had you in s’ long” Ron’s fingers then made their way up you skirt, right over your clothed area which was practically begging for his cock now.

You bit your lip to hold back a moan. “Ronald we had sex about a week ago.” “Thats a long time sweetheart.”

You shivered at his last words after his index finger found its way under your panties now on your clit. Your hand came slamming down onto his bicep, which had grown at an incredible speed.

Your toes curled in your shoes while your arousal had Ron’s fingers soaked.

Ron added his finger inside which made a gasp fall out of your mouth.

Hermione turned her head to you with a concerned look as Ron stopped moving abruptly. You looked into Hermiones eyes, praying that she had no idea what was going on.

“Is everything alright?” Hermione asked, placing her book down she was studying for in Herbology.

“Oh.. yes sorry I just remembered about-“

“Our homework for Potions, we’re doing it together in my dorm. Would you like to leave now?”

You turned Ron, confused. Then it clicked very quick that your little finger sesh was much more then that. His fingers popped out of you as he rubbed the arousal off them and onto his pants that way it wasn’t too obvious he was practically about to finger fuck the life out of you.

“I would love that, Ron.”

Ron grabbed your arm and practically threw you up out of your seat as he dragged you while you both Ran out of the Great Hall.

All that could be heard from the two of you were giggles nonetheless and feet paddling through the empty halls.

As you came to an abrupt stop, Ron checked the place around him. Coast was clear.

Ron opened the door to an old classroom as you both looked around.

“Ron why are we-“ You were cut off to a pair of lips smashing against yours. Your lips moved against one another as his hands guided your body to a desk.

As your butt hit the desk, you gasped as you grabbed onto the wood behind you. Ron plopped you up onto the desk. to which you returned with your legs wrapping around his waist.

Ron looked up at you with his pretty eyes, rubbing your hip. “Im sorry baby.. I just can’t contain myself, not when you look like this..”

His lips made their way back to yours, sliding his tongue against your lips. You knew this was his way in asking for permission to enter your mouth, which you obviously complied.

As your tongues danced together until you were both ran out of breath, you pulled away to catch the air that was now hot.

Rons hands found their way to your tie as he fiddled with it and tossed it onto the ground.

After he removed your tie, his hands began to unbutton your blouse. His hands were shaking as they made their way down. You could tell he was so eager for this, how worked up and pure horny he was.

After your blouse was off and discarded, Ron took a moment to just admire you. His eyes fell onto your figure, how perfect you were, how much he wanted to absolutely ruin you.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart..”, Ron muttered into your neck as his hands were now at your breasts. He was always so touchy when you had sex.

You moaned as Ron left hickeys on your neck while his hands had now sneaked around your back to unclasp your bra.

“Ron.. please..” You moaned as Rons lips were now on your nipple. Your hands tangled into his ginger locs.

“Please what sweetheart?” Ron muttered after detaching himself from your nipple, locking eyes with yours.

You were spread out on the desk infront of him, tits out and nothing but a thin pair of panties and your skirt hiding the rest of his holy grail.

“Fuck me Ron..”

“Whatever you want, darling”

Ron didn’t waste a second from taking your skirt off nor your panties. You were now completely bare while he was fully clothed.

You grabbed him by his tie and began to undo the fabric, along with the rest of his clothes.

You rubbed his erected cock through his boxers, a wet patch from pre cum, damping your finger tips.

Ron let out a gutteral moan as he threw his head back while you rubbed his cock. “Fuck..” Ron moaned as his hands found your breasts, squeezing at your left one.

You squeezed his cock in return, his moans getting louder. The pre cum continued to spread around your fingers. You removed your hand from his cock and looked up at him with lustful eyes. You teasingly licked them, to which he groaned at.

After you yanked his boxers down, his cock sprung free as he wasted no time from getting closer between your legs.

“Gonna fuck you so good sweetheart, you want that?” Ron teased with not only his words, but the head of his dick.

You let out a moan from his words, somehow causing your pussy to clench around nothing. “Please Ronnie, need you to fuck me so hard.”

Ron let out a ‘bloody hell’ to your taunts as he pushed himself in.

You both moaned in union and he filled your pussy up with his cock to the brim. The sight was for sore eyes.

Ron, shirtless and sweaty with his hair nothing but a mess, and you.. legs spread with doe eyes as you both stared so intently at one another.

Ron began to move at a nice speed at first, but he slowly picked the pace up.

You could feel it all, the way his tip kissed your cervix and his length going in and out. You could feel the twitches off his cock around your tight cunt as well.

“Fuck sweetheart.. this pussy’s extra tight today huh? you miss me as much as I did? Your little pussy missed this cock?” You nodded your head frantically at his words, squeezing your legs around him tighter than before.

“Yes.. yes! Shit Ronald..” You threw your head back as your tits bounced with every thrust, his pace at a impeccable pace.

Ron was pounding you into oblivion, you could feel the coil tightening and you were sure he could to.

“Fuck.. gonna worship this pussy every day, that okay sweetheart?” Ron moaned as his cock twitched inside you, he was so close to cumming.

You let out a whine at his words, “Yes. holy shit.. fuck!!..- fuck this pussy everyday Ronnie..” You were so cockdrunk you could barley think.

Ron was about to come and he was sure you were to, so he placed his thumb onto your clit. You let out a loud moan as you were pratically screaming for him. Your legs began to shake and quiver as his thrusts became sloppy.

“Gonna cum inside b..baby.. that okay?” Ron looked deep into your eyes with his words, to which you returned with a quick nod yes.

You and Ronald both finished at the same time, his sperm filling your cunt up as yours spread across his cock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later in the Gryffindor common room, you and Ronald were cuddled on one of the sofas while Hermione was sat in front of the two of you with Harry.

Suddenly you heard a cat call whistle, you turned to look around, then came face to face with a a Fred, and a George.

“You two sure were busy earlier huh?”

The twins asked this in union, which caused Hermione and Harry to practically burst out into tears in laughter.

Ron and yours faces flushed pink, to which you hid your face in your hands.

The twins let out snickers and Ron gave them a glare.

“You know Ronnikins, you aren’t the quietest.” Fred stated.

“Your lucky for us though, our dearest little brother. See, if we hadn’t played that wicked prank on Filch..” George stated,..

“He would’ve been in for a sight.. oh and an earful of words.. ‘oh sweetheart..’” Fred finished with a mocking voice.

Ron scoffed but turned his frown to a smirk, “Atleast i have game, not to mention a girlfriend as well. Can you lot say the same?”

They infact could not.

[angstywaifu]

Happy Birthday To Me - Garrick Tavis x Reader

A/N: Couldn't not post a birthday themed fic on my birthday about my favourite Fourth Wing/Iron Flame man. Thank you to those who gave me ideas for it! And thank you for all the birthday wishes! Warnings: 18+, Smut (only a small amount and implied)

To everyone else today was just another day. Another day in the riders quadrant. Just the way I had intended it to be as I stretched out in my bed. I extend my hand out to find the space next to me empty and cold. I open my eyes to see Garrick who was there when I had fallen asleep was gone. Had been for some time apparently. I couldn’t help the slight hint of sadness that washed over me.

Garrick and I were just friends with benefits. Close friends with benefits. He didn’t always stay the night, most of the time opting to go back to his room to try keep our arrangement a secret. But part of my had hoped today he would be there when I woke up. On my birthday. A silly hope considering he didn’t know when my birthday was. No one in the quadrant did. I’d never had a good birthday when I was younger, my parents usually forgetting or claiming to be too busy. And once they had died with the end of the rebellion, I didn’t want someone else to disappoint me. So I never told anyone. The group of people I now considered close friends always asked. Nearly three years later none of them knew. But someone did. Out of the corner of my eye, sitting on my bedside table was a card leaning up against a small box, a dark green ribbon wrapped around it. My favourite colour. I push myself up, manoeuvring to sit in the spot Garrick had been in when I had fallen asleep last night. I reach for the box first, the child in me wanting to see what awaited inside seeing as I’d rarely gotten gifts on my birthday. I open it to reveal a black choker, with a small green gem hanging from it. It was beautiful. I had pointed it out a few weekends ago in town when we had all gone down on one of our rare days off. Meaning this could have only been from someone in our friend group who had gone that day.

We walked through the main road through town. Our voices and laughter echoing off the walls as Imogen tells us a story about Bodhi becoming a flustered mess around a girl he was interested in. Again. For someone who grew up around Xaden and Garrick who were the epitome of confidence, Bodhi was the complete opposite most of the time, and it made for a lot of moments like this. As we pass by one of the few jewellery stores in town, something catches my eye. I drift away from the group as they keep laughing at Imogen’s story. In the window was a choker made up of thin black leather cord , and hanging off it was a beautiful green gem. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I must have been gone from the group longer than I had realised as a familiar presence joins me. I don’t have to look up to know its Garrick. His shadow easily fell over me without even trying. And his smell easily gave him away. The familiar scent of leather, musk and cinnamon I had grown so use to other the last few months. A smell that I swear was permanently on that side of the bed he always laid on.

”What you looking at?” He asks as his eyes scan the items in the store window.

I point my finger at the choker on display in the middle of the window display. “Just that choker. Nothing special.” I tell him.

”Why don’t you get it then? Seems you really like it.” He pushes. I really must have been standing here looking at it longer than I realised.

I shake my head. “I’ll just end up losing it in a challenge or something. Just thought it was pretty.”

With a final look at the choker, I smile up at Garrick before wandering back to the group standing a few feet behind us.

Had Garrick gotten this for me? If he had, he would have gotten it while we were there. But why wait till today to give it to me? I had never told him when my birthday was. Hadn’t uttered a single word about it since the day I had gotten here. There was no way he knew what today was. I place the box on the bed in front of me before grabbing the card that had been placed with the box. I open the card to find the very familiar scrawl I knew belonged to Garrick. I had sat next to him in nearly every class after he had befriended me in Gauntlet training back in first year. I would know his handwriting anywhere.

I promise you’ll never lose this. I’ll make sure of it.

Head to where we first met - Garrick

I move faster than I ever have before. Jumping out of bed and pulling on my uniform and brushing my hair in record time. I’m halfway across my room when I remember the necklace still in the box on my bed. I rush over and grab the necklace. My fingers fumbling nervously on the clasp as I try to secure it around my neck. After many failed attempts I manage to finally clasp it together. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips as I catch my reflection in the mirror. The sun hitting the green gem on my neck just right, casting a subtle green glow around it. It was beautiful. I don’t even hesitate as my feet take me towards the gauntlet. Garrick and I had technically met before the training sessions had started. We we’re in the same squad. But until gauntlet training had started, we had never uttered a single word to each other. Not even a hello. And as I round the corner into the gauntlet I know my gut feeling was right. Exactly where we had said our first words, had our first interaction say another box with a green bow. Right where Garrick had saved me from falling to my death.

I didn’t have enough momentum. My footwork was all wrong as my body jerked forward on the third last post. I was falling and I was going to die. I close my eyes so I don’t see it coming. Don’t have to watch my death come to me. But suddenly I’m not falling forward. The wind rushing around me gone. Instead I’m swinging back up as something grasps my arm. I thud into something solid, before we both topple to the ground, rolling into the next obstacle. I lie there in shock, my eyes still shut. There was no way I hadn’t died. My mind was playing tricks on me. It had to be. But a deep voice pulls me from my thoughts and has me opening my eyes.

”Hey, are you ok?”

I open my eyes to see the biggest cadet in our squad and probably the entire quadrant looking down at me. Worry etched on their face and in their hazel eyes. Still in shock from almost dying all I can do is nod my head. Clearly he senses I’m still in shock as he grasps my hands and pulls me up with him. I barely reach his shoulder as we both stand on the small landing. The landing I was very close to not being on if it wasn’t for Garrick. Who I could have sworn was half way up the next obstacle as I started mine. He should have cleared it by the time I had started to fall. He should have easily cleared it by then.

”Think you can make it up the next one?” Garrick’s question pulling me from my thoughts.

I turn to look at the upwards climb we would have to make. Something I could easily do. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

”Good. I’m Garrick by the way.” He holds his hand out to me.

I grasp it, his hand dwarfing mine instantly. “I’m Y/N.”

This time I had easily made it across the posts. Right over to the box on the small landing. I kneel in front of it, pulling off the green bow. Inside was a wooden carving of my green dragon. A wooden carving I knew Liam Mairi had done. I had seen him making carvings for some of the other riders. And I had dropped hints multiple times I would love one of my dragon. He kept telling me he would get to mine. But I had a feeling mine had been done for a while as I had only started asking recently. Underneath the wooden carving is another note from Garrick.

I’m glad I caught you that day. Even though I didn’t know you, I hate to think how my life would have turned out if I hadn’t.

Meet me where it first happened - Garrick

I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face as I read his note, or the way my heart beat increases ever so slightly. The others had always joked I brought out the best in Garrick from that day onwards. I had to take their word for it, as Garrick had never changed in my eyes. He had always acted the same around me. I turn and climb up the last of the Gauntlet. Thank god once we cleared this on presentation day we didn’t have to do this to get up to the flight field every single time. Even with it being far easier now than it was back in first year. As I pull my self over the top I head straight for the stairs to take me back down to the quadrant. The only place my mind went to with the words ‘meet me where it first happened’ was his room. So that’s where I went.

”F-fuck, Garrick.” I practically moan.

Garrick’s hands grip my thighs tightly, keeping me firmly seated on his face. His tongue licking slowly over me, before wrapping his lips around my clit. My hands gripping his head board tightly as my body trembles and my toes curl. Garrick’s name was tumbling from my lips with every stroke. I gasp out loudly as his tongue probes my entrance, Garrick’s hands gripping my thighs tightly in response. I feel his groan rumble through me as I grind down on his face, his nose grazing my clit, a loud moan escaping me again. One of his hands moves from my thigh to firmly grasp me ass, encouraging me to move back and forth. I whimper as he removes his lips from me, earning a chuckle from Garrick. I had been so hesitant to do this, and now here I was whimpering at the loss. But he quickly replaces the loss with his fingers. I instantly clamp around them, head rolling back in pleasure.

”Fuck Y/N, you look so pretty like this. Way better than I ever imagined.” His voice dropping an octave lower somehow. “Look at you coming undone on just my fingers and tongue.”

All I can do is moan and whimper in response as he adds another finger, curling them inside me. I nearly collapse at the feeling. Garrick and I had barely started and he already had me falling apart on top of him. As Garrick sucks on my clit again, my whole body starts shaking, my climax quickly approaching.

”That’s it sweetheart. Let go. Come apart on my fingers.” He mumbles against me.

And I do. Hard and loud as I moan and scream his name.

My hand hovers over the handle to Garrick’s room, shaking slightly as my heart beats loudly and fast in my chest. The green bow on the handle telling me I was in the right spot. Meaning Garrick was most likely inside based off the wording of his note. On the other side I pick the faint sounds of someone pacing back and forth. Was Garrick nervous? Garrick who I had never seen look phased or scared of anything in the time we had been here. Yet hear I was listening to his pacing back and forth. I suck in a deep breathe and turn the handle and push open the door. Garrick who was pacing towards the other side of the room turns quickly and looks at me. A smile gracing his lips as his eyes lower to the choker still clasped around my neck. I look around the room, and situated on the desk is a cupcake from one of the bakeries in the local town with green icing on top. Next to it what looks to be a book with some slim boxes stacked on top, secured together with another one of the green bows. Garrick had known today was my birthday. There was no denying it.

”How did you know?” I ask him as I walk over to the desk, Garrick standing behind me and placing a hand on the small of my back.

”Lets just say I have my ways.” He says with a chuckle. I don’t have to turn to see the smirk that will be on his face.

”What ways? I’ve never told anyone here when my birthday was.” I tell him as I undo the bow holding the book and boxes together.

Garrick watches silently as I open the first box. Inside was a new set of daggers. Tyrrish runes decorated the handle. They were gorgeous. The next box held a new set of charcoals to go with the sketch book lying underneath.

”Being a section leader gives me access to information on all the cadets under me.” Cadets that included me as I was in his section. “I had also noticed over the last two years, that you always seemed off around this time of year. That something bothered you. So I already had my suspicions.”

”You didn’t have to do this.” I tell him as I turn and look at up him, trapping me between Garrick and the desk.

Garrick just smiles and reaches up and brushes some of my hair behind my ear, then resting his hand on my cheek. In my rush I hadn’t done my usual braid or bun, leaving it to hand loosely around my face. Something I knew drove Garrick crazy. He loved it when I’d let it down during our more intimate moments.

”I did. I needed to do this for you. Can’t have my girl hating her birthday.” He tells me softly.

Garrick was always good at keeping his emotions off his face. But his eyes always spoke what he was trying to hide. I could see the nervousness in them, the slight darting around my face to see how I would react.

”You’re girl? We’re just fr-”

”What if I wanted more? Wanted more than just some heated moments in each others beds. But kept convincing myself I couldn’t have more. What if I was stupid enough to fall for one of my closest friends.” He pleads, resting his forehead on mine.

”Good thing we’re both stupid then.” I say.

I briefly catch a smile on Garrick’s lips before they’re on my own. Our hands pulling at each others clothes as he guides us towards his bed, two piles ending up on the floor. I go to grab his hand to pull him down to the bed with me, but he smacks it away as he kneels in front of me, pulling me towards the edge of the bed.

”Today is all about you darling.” He says, his voice dropping an octave lower than normal, bringing out the husky tone that he knows I love.

I go to object, but my words are silenced by my moan as Garrick runs his tongue along my centre and pushes his fingers inside me. Happy birthday to me.

[lemoncrushh]

We're Gonna Have a Baby

Summary: Telling Harry he's gonna be a dad.

Warnings: Loving couple sex, lots of fluff. 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 2165

A/N: A sweet little one shot written in 2016. This is in first person, but no name is given.

I told him yesterday. You should have seen the look on his face. If I'd been smart, I would have had my phone with me to take a picture.

I'd taken the first test almost a week ago. I'd thought I was pregnant. In fact, I kinda even knew I was. We hadn't been using protection for a couple months, deciding we could start trying, but not really trying - if that made any sense. My period due date had come and gone. So, when I sat on the toilet that morning and peed on the stick, I should have been prepared. However, when I first saw the little plus sign, I sat in shock, blinking over and over in case my eyes were deceiving me.

So yesterday morning I decided to take another test, just to be sure. I'd decided not to tell Harry yet just in case it turned out to be a fluke. The disappointment he was bound to feel was not something I was willing to bear. His light-heartedness about the whole thing was just a facade, I knew. He wanted kids. Badly.

He kissed me before he rolled out of bed, announcing that he was going to start breakfast. Once he was out of the room, I hurried to the toilet and unwrapped the second pregnancy test. I waited just a minute or two before checking the results, even though I knew it didn't even take that long. I just wanted a moment longer to consider it.

This time, I wasn't scared. I promised myself that whatever the result was, I would be happy. Because I was happy. I had Harry. He loved me and I loved him. That was all I could ask for. If I was pregnant, I knew he would be ecstatic. We would have the most loved baby there ever was. But if I wasn't, that was okay too. We would just keep trying.

With a sigh, I rose from the toilet and washed my hands before finally taking a peek at the test. A plus sign. I was most definitely pregnant. I bit my lip and dried my hands with a towel, carefully picking up the test to inspect it closer. I was startled by a knock on the door, nearly dropping the test into the sink.

"Babe?" called Harry from the other side.

I cleared my throat. "Yes, love?"

"We only have a couple of eggs left. Should we go out, or do you want something else?"

"I'm fine with anything," I called back, still staring at the test. A baby. Harry and I were gonna have a baby...

"Well, tell me because I already have the bacon out and the-"

With a giddy grin, I turned to the door and threw it open. Harry stood with his eyes wide, his hand resting on the door frame.

"What would you like?" I asked him.

"I don't-" he began with a shrug until I lifted the pregnancy test in my hand.

"A boy or a girl?" I raised a brow.

Harry glared at me, his eyes shifting between mine and the test. His lips parted, but he made no sound. I noticed his chest rise and fall with quick, heavy breaths.

"Is...is that..." he stammered.

I giggled. "Yes, it is."

"Baby..." he breathed, looking back at me.

"Yep," I nodded. "We're gonna have a baby, Harry."

Finally finding his footing, he wasted no more time to erase the space between us and wrap me in his embrace. I wound my arms around his neck as he cried in my ear.

"Oh my God."

His body shook against me. I murmured in his ear that I loved him which he echoed in returned. When he finally stood up straight and I got a look at his face, his cheeks were wet with tears. My heart melted as I wiped them away with my thumbs, cradling his face in my hands.

"How do you feel?" he asked me. That was so like Harry. To have concern for me and my well-being before his own.

"I feel fine," I replied. "No morning sickness yet."

"No, I mean..." he swallowed, "how do you feel about becoming a mother? I know we discussed it before, but...this is real and..."

I shook my head. "Harry. I still feel the same. Actually, no. I feel even better. I'm having your baby. Our baby."

A smile took hold of his lips, revealing his dimples. "My baby's having my baby."

I giggled again, licking my lips. "That's right. And I've never been happier."

Harry seemed to study my face as he lifted his hand and let the back of it graze across my cheek.

"I love you so much," he declared, his voice cracking.

"I love you, too."

"C'mere," he whispered before sliding his hand around my neck and pulling me closer into a deep kiss.

When his tongue met mine, I immediately felt weak in the knees, the inevitable fire igniting within. I grabbed his forearm with one hand, my other pressing against his chest, taking a fistful of his t-shirt. His plump lips taking my bottom one between them, Harry's other hand slid down my shoulder and arm to my waist. Silently, he backed into the bedroom, taking me with him. When his long legs bumped into the edge of the bed, he finally released my mouth and rested his forehead against mine.

"Would it be completely unromantic if I said I want you so bad right now?" he muttered, his voice raspy.

"No," I answered. "Not at all."

I took it upon myself to grip the hem of his shirt and lift it, my fingers touching his bare skin. His stomach was warm. Harry then reached behind to pull the shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. I stared at his face, his eyelids heavy as my hands roamed up his torso and back down to the waistband of his shorts. His jaw dropped slightly, the end of his tongue escaping the corner of his mouth as he gave me a sexy smirk. Slipping my hands inside, I cupped his bottom before rounding to the front of his shorts. His breath hitched when my fingers met his erection, gliding my hand up his sensitive skin.

"Mmm," he sounded, his eyes closed.

I pushed his shorts down and Harry stepped out of them. His hands on my waist then, he grabbed the sides of my nightgown, lifting it over my head. The fabric had barely hit the floor when he sat back on the bed, pulling me towards him.

Laying me down, he hovered above me, his beautiful face glowing in the morning light that shone through our large window. I literally felt my heart speed up in my chest just from the way he was looking at me, as though this was our first time, and everything was new again.

"I'm so lucky," he murmured.

For a split second I was about to ask him why. But I didn't have to. Never short on sentiments, Harry had spent the last four years of our relationship declaring his love for me. I never once felt slighted in the least, or had any resentment. He showered me with affection and repeatedly showed me how lucky he felt to have me. Now I was giving him the one thing he wanted that he didn't already have.

Lowering his lips to mine, he proved it once again in the tender way he kissed me. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he made his way to my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to my collarbone. My breaths got jagged when he scooted his body down, his fingers threading through the sides of my panties. He nipped at my hips, dragging his teeth along my skin before adding the lacy garment to the pile on the floor. Then on his way back up, he made it a point to stop at my stomach, giving it sweet, soft kisses. Before he lifted his head, I could've sworn I saw him mouth the words "I love you".

When he reached my chest, he gently ran his tongue around one nipple, taking it into his mouth. I threw my head back, my back arching automatically at the sensation. Heat pooled between my legs as he switched breasts, giving it the same treatment.

"Harry..." I managed to say, though it was barely audible.

He lifted his head, his eyes mimicking the desire that was no doubt apparent in mine. Lifting one of my thighs, he situated himself between them. He entered me slowly, my body stretching to accommodate him. I watched him swallow hard before letting out a deep breath, thrusting a bit more.

"You okay?" he inquired when he noticed I was biting my lip.

I merely nodded, running my hands up his arms. After all this time, he still asked, always wanting to make sure I was receiving the same pleasure he was.

Our bodies rocked slowly and evenly as we became one. His skin was so hot against mine, yet I couldn't get enough of it. I began to feel the build-up as he hit my most sensitive spot. My eyelids fluttered closed, and I opened my legs wider, my toes curling. Moans escaped my throat, and I ran my hands down his sides to grip his hips, guiding him where I wanted him.

"Ohh my love..." Harry groaned in my ear.

"Yeah..." I whined. "Right there."

Quickly lifting his head, he gazed into my eyes. Usually at this point Harry would begin to thrust faster and harder, both of us screaming each other's names as we came. But we both knew this time was different. It was special.

Harry continued the slow pace. Though it was nearly agonizing because we were both so close, I also knew sometimes this was the best sex. Because it wasn't just sex. This was two people in love, bound together and committed. It only made it that much better. As did the slow, easy thrusts.

Finally, I felt Harry's body tremble above me as he bit his lip. His brows furrowed as he let out a deep groan, then another. His head fell beside mine again and his breath tickled my ear.

"Come," I whispered.

"Not before you," he moaned. "But God, I'm so close."

"I am too," I muttered. "Together."

I felt Harry nod before he lifted slightly and wrapped his arms around my waist. His thrusts then, though sloppy, were sped up and when he hit my spot again, I felt the orgasm rip through me. Harry followed, my name falling from his lips as his chest shook.

He laid on top of me for a moment while our breaths evened out. Then rolling onto his side, he pulled me to him, planting passionate kisses on my mouth.

"I'm so in love with you, baby," Harry cried. "You make me so happy."

"Me too," I said, lifting my hand to touch his cheek, my thumb swiping across his chin. "You're everything to me."

He stared back at me for a while, his fingers in my hair. I decided not to ask him what was on his mind, because I felt like I knew. However, when I caught a tear falling from his eye, I quickly wiped it away.

"Honey..." I whispered. "What's that for?"

Harry chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "I don't know. Just emotional, I guess."

I nodded. "It's gonna be okay, Harry. We're gonna be amazing parents."

"Yeah," he agreed, his face lighting up. "Yeah, we are."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him one more kiss. With a sigh, he laid on his back and I rested my head on his chest, tracing his tattoos with the tip of my finger. Suddenly, I felt my stomach growl and Harry and I giggled at the same time.

"Guess I could go for some breakfast now," I commented.

"You never told me what you wanted."

I rose up onto my elbow and looked around the room as though it held the answer somewhere.

"I'm thinking eggs...and sausage...bacon...hash browns...fruit...toast and jam..." I listed.

"Jesus, that's a lot of food," said Harry.

"Well, I'm eating for two now, you know?"

Harry chuckled and pulled me back down on top of him. I giggled with glee as he began to tickle me, his morning stubble scratching my cheek. I folded my arms across his chest as I looked down at his handsome face.

"We're gonna have a baby, Harry," I cheered.

"I know!" he grinned, pushing my hair off my shoulders.

"Our love made a person." Even after saying that, I got choked up.

"Sweetheart..." Harry cooed. "You're gonna make me cry again."

"Sorry," I murmured, kissing his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips. "Just happy."

"Me too, my love," he whispered. "Me too."

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