#i have also tried this and it didn’t work

[taeghi]

let's collab | (m)

⇰ summary : you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.

⇰ pairing : camboy!heeseung x camgirl!y/n

⇰ genre : smut!! masturbation, vibrators lol, dirty talk, oral, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, praise, sir kink, spanking, brief spitting and hair pulling lol.

⇰ word count : 10k (8k of it is just pure, filthy smut) !!!

⇰ taglist : @criminalyun @princeseung @seokseokjinkim @loveydoveyhee @immelissaaa @iselltulips @strxwbloody @ensaz008 @loavibeycipoosan @liwugy @starfallia @you-make-skz-stay @ineedsomezzz @heeshlove @niniissus @mirramirra @skzenhalove @fandom-freak-geek @lilifiedeans @woahhhhaw @cchangli @enhabooks @heelovesmeknot @fakeuwus @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @jjklvr9 @hanjisunginc @iamliacamila @jaylaxies

mdni

you started ‘darlingdove01’ when you needed some extra cash in your second year of college. at first you didn’t show your face at all and you were nervous that someone you knew was going to find out. godforbid your parents found out about your sex work. 

over time, you started to get more comfortable in front of the camera and started to show your face. though you never said your real name. you had started to get a close following and were at the top of the creators of the week every week. the way it worked was that the longer you were number one, the more increase of pay you got. though, you had never been number 1 for more than one week at a time. 

all thanks to hluvsbabes. 

it seemed that every week you and hluvsbabes would alternate who was number one. no matter what new things you tried to increase your audience and views, the next week you were back at number two. 

the day that you were fed up with always being put back to second was the day that you would very soon regret. 

you were lazily scrolling through the app when you noticed hluvsbabes had just started streaming, so, you clicked onto the livestream. 

and there he was. hluvsbabes shirtless with his hard cock pulled out of his pants and sitting in between his fist. his pale skin gleamed against his computer screen light, showing off his abs. he had a black mask covering the lower part of his face. his bangs fell into his squinted eyes as he casually pumped his cock up and down in his fist. 

you couldn’t stop your jaw from going slack as you took in the sight before you. you could tell his mouth was in a playful smirk as he watched the comments fly. suddenly a tip of 20$ flew in the corner of the screen : “take ur pants off pls”. 

you could hear his dark chuckle through your speakers, “mmm, only because you said please.” 

you watched him do as the viewer asks. he dug his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulled them down to reveal his pale legs that matched the rest of his body. 

he seemed so confident and casual as he sat in his chair fully nude, as if 8,000 people weren’t watching him right now. 

“is that better for you?” his voice asked with a tone of amusement. you watched him laugh as all the comments immediately filled with variations of “yes”. “what else do you want me to do? tell me.” the comments were instantly filled with nasty things that you have to admit you also wanted him to do. 

you had figured hluvsbabes was hot since he was always top one or two, but you didn’t think he would look like this. and that his voice would be so seductive. 

“i won’t be taking off my mask, guys.” hluvsbabes shakes his head with a chuckle, he’s just so amused with his fans. along with his fans you also wished he took off his mask. you would love to see the mouth that formed such seductive words. 

suddenly, a tip came up in the corner of the screen of 100$, “start jerking ur cock, baby”. your jaw dropped at the amount of the tip. you had only ever received 100$ worth a few times in the past two years. hluvsbabes didn’t even seem that shocked by the amount as he did as he was told. 

his hand started to move faster up and down his hard cock. the tip of his cock looked so red and swollen in the light of his computer screen. 

“will you spit on it for me, baby?” hluvsbabes whines out and you instantly shut your legs together. 

the comments are gradually picking up pace, commenting demands and praises, asking questions for him to answer. you can hear his deep grunts through your speakers as he keeps his bang covered eyes on the comments. 

a 15$ tip pops up in the corner again; “tell me i’m ur good girl pls”. 

hluvsbabes amusingly shakes his head, “of course you're my good girl. do you have your fingers in your panties? how wet are you? tell me how wet you are, good girl.” 

you’re in shock from his words, the comments, the amount of tips and from how hot hluvsbabes is. 

his deep laugh distracts you from your thoughts. he throws his head back on the chair’s headrest, making his bangs reveal his forehead. even with his mask on, you can tell that his mouth is open agape from the pleasure he’s feeling. 

“fuck, guys. i’ve been thinking about this– about you all day. my dick has been hard since my morning class.” 

the thought of him having to walk around with a hard cock all day because he thought of getting off in front of thousands of people only turns you on more. he continues to move his hand up and down his cock, his grunts getting louder and louder. 

“i-i’m getting close. i wish you were here to taste my cum, shit.” 

it was getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore the tingly feeling starting to increasingly grow in the pit of your stomach. you felt entranced by him, not being able to take your eyes off of your screen. you had only planned to watch a couple of minutes just to see what the hype was about, but now you’ve been watching him for close to twenty minutes. you lean onto your desk uncaringly over your keyboard and your heart stops when you see : 

darlingdove01 : ghj

your eyes widen at your username in the comment section, praying to god none of his 15k viewers notices. 

“oh, darlingdove is in here,” hluvsbabes’s voice speaks suddenly, making you jolt away from your computer screen and grab the handles of your chair. he tilts his head and looks directly into the camera as he continues, “how are you, darling? do you like the show? do you like watching me get off?” 

you are in shock and you can’t think of what to do. you never thought you would be in a situation like this. you notice all the comments start filling up with your name as hluvsbabes is still stroking his cock and groaning. 

“maybe she’s too busy with her hands to type right now.” hluvsbabes jokes in a grunted laugh. you cover your mouth with your hands in shock. and you read one comment that says “who can blame her?”. 

and with that, you immediately leave the one and only hluvsbabes livestream you have ever watched, the embarrassment being almost too much.

a few days and a lot of thoughts of hluvsbabes later, you know you have to get back to livestreaming. you had planned a few things for your next live stream despite being busy with college and being distracted by the memories of hluvsbabes. 

the way ‘darling’ slipped from his mouth so casually and sensual. 

usually, people only referred to you as ‘dove’. you didn’t anticipate for darling to be so efficacious. but maybe it was only because hluvsbabes had said it. the way it sounded in his smooth, mischievous tone. it kept you up at night. 

tonight, you had to live stream on your account. 

you started at your usual time; 10pm, in your usual setting; your bedroom. your nightside lamp was lit behind you, being your only source of light besides your computer screen. your body was covered by an oversized hoodie which covered your panties and the top of your bare thighs. 

“hi everyone,” you spoke into your microphone, looking at the rising amount of viewers on your live stream. the comments started piling in, regular questions about yourself mixed with sexual ones that made you laugh to yourself. “my week was good, thank you. how has your week been, guys?” 

you read some of the comments, recognizing some of the usernames that comment. and when you notice a steady amount of viewers and when the comments start teasing you and begging you to start, you begin. 

“tonight,” you start, and sit back in your computer chair, “i think i’ll have some fun with my new toy.” you reach out of the camera’s view and grab the toy you had bought earlier in the week. it was a long, white vibrator. you take your time to show the camera the entire toy, smiling proud of it. “what should we name him?” you giggle out, reading the comments as they flood with names and praises and begging. 

you sit back in your chair, “he has three settings, should i start with the lowest? see how wet he can get me?” you ask, your voice teasing. tips start to come in, telling you to turn it on, telling you that they want to see you cum. 

with a flick of your thumb you turn it onto the lowest setting. a low buzzing sound fills your bedroom, entering the mic for your audience to hear. you lift your feet so they rest on the chair, your knees up in the air. your hoodie bunches at your waist for your panties and bare legs to be revealed. you press the vibrator against your clit over top of your panties, testing it. 

“oh god,” you moan, “even the lowest setting is good.” you inform your audience, keeping your eyes on the camera and comments. you giggle when you read a tip that tells you to move it in circles. “want me to move it? want to watch me pleasure myself?” the comments flood with yes’s. 

you start to move the vibrator in slow, small circles around your clit. wanting to tease yourself and the audience for as long as possible. you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. the feeling of the vibrator against your pulsing clit and the eyes of hundreds of people watching you in real time. 

a tip catches your eye; 

heesacc tipped 50$! : that looks like it feels good, darling. why don’t you move up a setting.

your eyes linger on the word darling and the large tip they gave you. 

“okay, let’s put it up to the medium setting.” you agree, your finger flicking the button up. the buzzing becomes louder as the toy starts moving faster. your hand still moves the vibrator in slow, small circles over your panties. “fuck, this is even better, baby.” 

you read comments that compliment you, that tell you they wanna see you cum right now, that you should remove your clothes. 

“want me to take my clothes off?” you tease the camera, your free hand playing with hem of your oversized sweater. “tell me what you want me to take off.” the comments tell you that they want you naked, that your sweater should come off, that everything should come off. 

heesacc tipped 50$! : take your sweater off and play with your tits, darling. rub your nipples and pretend it’s me.

“wanna see my tits? wanna see me play with them just for you?” you bite your lip at the tip, but do as they said, putting down the vibrator for a second as you pull the sweater off your core. your breasts being revealed to the audience. you look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the large wet stain on your panties from your juices and the vibrator. “oh my god, look wet i am.” you wiggle so your panties can be seen better on camera. the large wet stain evident in the computer screen’s light. “this is how good you make me feel.” 

you read the comments that say they wish they were there beside you, that they want to rip your panties off. 

you pick up the vibrator again, still on the medium setting. your one hand holds the vibrator steady against your covered clit, as your free hand comes up and starts to tweak your nipples. your forefinger and thumb hook your nipple, rolling it. you let out moans at the feeling, your back arching off your chair naturally. 

“fuck, i love playing with my nipples, it turns me on so much.” you state honestly, switching between nipples with your fingers. 

heesacc tipped 70$! : let’s see how swollen your pretty pussy is, darling. 

you gulped as you read the tip come through. just reading the words sent a shiver straight to your core. you swore your pussy got so much wetter as you finished reading it. 

you set the vibrator down again, “you wanna see my pussy, baby? wanna see how wet and swollen you got it?” you tease the camera, your hand dragging across your panties. with the multiple “yes”’s commenting, you start to slowly slide your panties off your legs, showing the camera the larger wet stain on them. 

you lean back in your chair again, the same position with your feet on the chair and knees up, but this time your pussy was visible to the camera. your hand glides down between your legs. you keep your eyes on the camera as your fingers slide through your lips so easily. you whine when your fingers rub over your sensitive clit. “i’m so wet, fuck. you could slip right in. stretch out my tight pussy. god, i need that so bad. need to be stretched out.” 

you reach for the vibrator again, “let’s see how long i can last on the high setting. i’m so close already.” you giggle out to your audience. 

you turn the vibrator to the highest setting, the toy buzzing in your hand as you bring it to your bare pussy. instantly you throw your head back, crying out at the pleasure. your other hand massaging your breast. 

heesacc tipped 100$! : cum like a good girl, darling. 

“oh god!” your eyebrows pull together from the pleasure. your knees start to buckle as the pleasure starts to take over you. “i’m gonna cum! fuck, i’m cumming.” you nod your head and try to keep your eyes on the camera as you hit your high. your bare chest heaves as your orgasm washes through your body, struggling to keep the vibrator on your clit from oversensitivity. 

when your head clears and your body relaxes, you manage to say goodbye to your audience, that you’ll see them again next time. you end the livestream, your eyes reading the tips, resting on the username ‘heesacc’. you had never seen them before, but they tip generously throughout the entire livestream. 

and they kept calling you darling.

you always had to get coffee before class. but your usual coffee shop had a line out the door today, so you had to go to one on campus that you’ve never been to before. though you knew you’d probably be late to class now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit through the two hour lecture without your daily coffee. 

you’re distracted by the menu of unfamiliar drinks that you don’t hear the barista question if you’re ready to order until the third time he says it. 

“oh sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head to wake up, “uh, could i get the blonde vanilla latte, please?” you tell the barista. you start to dig through your backpack for some money. 

“darlingdove01?” his voice questions, recognition definite in his voice. 

your head snaps up to look at the barista properly for the first time. your username making your ears and cheeks paint red. “uhh, yeah!” you’ve only been recognized in public a few times, and they’ve usually been at parties or get together, never in a public public place before. 

the barista has dark brown hair that’s covering his forehead. his eyes are big, doe-like and expressive. his features are sharp and delicate at the same time. his complexion is so smooth in the harsh coffee shop lights. “oh, cool.” his voice is smooth as he shrugs, almost impressed. “that’ll be 5.49$, please.” 

so shocked, you scramble to pile some change on the counter, dropping it for him to pick it up. you smile with a faint nod before you walk away for the next person behind you to order. 

you take deep breaths as you wait for your order, telling yourself that it’s okay, that that could’ve gone a lot worse. you weren’t used to people looking at you in public, that’s why you chose to stay behind a screen. 

“blonde vanilla latte!” the barista calls out a few minutes later. you go up and take the cup from him. “have a good day.” he’s polite, and his eyes tell you something that you don’t quite pick up. 

you turn away from the counter, ready to get the hell out of his coffee shop. you glance down at your drink, noticing words written in black on the side. 

let’s collab, hluvsbabes

with his number written underneath.  you turn your head to look back at the barista, but find a woman working the cashier instead. the brown haired boy disappeared from sight. you think back from the one and only hluvsbabes stream you had seen of his. he had kept his bangs over his eyes, hiding how doe-eyed they really were. his mask covered the entirety of his lower face. there was no way to know if the barista was really the hluvsbabes, but his eyes seemed to tell you that he was. that he knew who you were, too.

your fingers hover over your phone’s keyboard. the apparent hluvsbabes’s phone number typed in above, but the message box left empty. you decide to bite the bullet, even if it wasn’t him, all you had to do was block him after and then act like this never, ever happened. 

youhi, uh hluvsbabes? 

only a few minutes pass before you get a response. 

(123) - ***-**** hahaha yeah but you can call me heeseung

(123) - ***-****

hi, darlingdove01!

you

how’d you know it’s me? my name’s y/n btw

heeseung

bc you’re the only one i’ve given my number out to lately

heeseung

and bc i knew you’d text me sooner rather than later ;)

you smile, rolling over onto your back, your phone in the air as you text hluvs- heeseung back. 

you

damn, i knew i should’ve waited a month

heeseung

noooo i’m glad you texted me

heeseung 

i wanted you to text me 

you

righttt, you said something about a collab? 

heeseung

yeahh, i think you should come over sometime soon 

you could hear your heart strumming against your chest at his text. the hluvsbabes wanted to collab with you. you had only been competing against each other on onlyfans for months. and neither of you had done a collab before, solely solo stuff. you wondered if it’d be a good idea or not. 

heeseung

c’mon, you know i can make you feel good ;)

you were leaning towards it being a good one.

later in the week you found yourself outside of hluvsbabes apparent apartment. he had only lived a quick bus ride away from you, both of you living close to your university campus. you were biting your fresh manicure the whole bus ride there. 

heeseung had texted you to make sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you. that he just wanted to get to know you, and hey, if a collab happened then it happened! 

though he was very polite and tried his best to reassure you and make you comfortable, you were still nervous to go to a guy’s house that you had seen masturbate before. you had heard what he sounds like when he masturbates. you had thought about his voice and his moans so many times since the “incident”. you were going to a boy’s house that you had cursed at so many times when you saw that he had passed you yet again in subscribers every few weeks. 

you knock on the apartment number’s door that he had given you. you waited a few quick heartbeats until the door opened. 

there stood the barista you had seen a few days ago. his doe-eyes the same and his long bangs covering his forehead. 

“y/n?” he spoke, a smile on his lips that made him seem even prettier than you remembered. 

you tried to picture what hluvsbabes would look like so many times, and now that you finally got a chance to see him, standing in front of you, letting you in his apartment, you were in shock. 

he was so much hotter than you could have ever imagined– now that you weren’t embarrassed in public when someone said your username outloud. 

“wanna come in or stand in the hall all day?” he spoke again, his eyebrow propped up. 

“oh!” you jolted, “sorry, sorry– i’ll come in.” you tell him, smiling at him as he held the door for you and closed once you were in. 

a quick glance around the apartment and you noticed how clean and home-y it looked. a regular couch, coffee table and tv took up one side of the apartment. and on the other side was a small island in the small kitchen. there was a hall on the far side of the room from you– which you figured led to his bedroom. (the room where he masturbates online for money– oh god!) 

“you can sit down on the couch if you want,” heeseung gestures to the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his gray sweatpants, “do you want a drink or anything?” 

“uh no, i’m good thanks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch, your hands clasping together in your lap. 

as he sits down beside you on the couch, you think about how after you had texted him the other day you had seen he was live on onlyfans– and how you made sure to not press it. the thought of him seeing you watching his livestream again made you physically cringe. 

“so uh,” heeseung starts, a casual smile on his face as he looks at you, “have you thought? about my offer? about the collab?” 

you nod, “i have,” 

“right, well, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want– like i said. we can just hang out– i just saw you and i needed to give you my number i couldn’t just–,” 

“i wanna do it.” 

heeseung’s eyes widen at your answer, “really? only if you’re comfortable.” 

you nod, “yeah, i want to.” 

heeseung’s body relaxes at your words, “okay, when?” 

“right now?” you shrug at him, “i mean you usually stream soon anyways, right?” 

heeseung thought his mind was gonna explode. the hot girl that he’s competed with for top creator was sitting in front of him on his couch, telling him that she wants to collab with him. she could collab with anyone, but she wanted to collab with him. he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“o-kay,” heeseung stutters and clears his throat, “uh, is there anything you're specifically into– or not into? i mean i’ve seen your streams so i know some things but i-,” 

“you’ve seen my streams?” you ask him confused and intrigued. 

heeseung fights the urge to slap himself, “i mean, yeah. you’re always top creator right?” 

“right, i just didn’t think that you’d watch them, i don’t know.” 

“why wouldn’t i watch them? you’re hot and you know how to engage with the audience.” heeseung admits honestly. 

you squirm at his compliment. “you’re hot, too.” 

heeseung seemingly relaxes completely at this, finally being able to comprehend what’s happening and what you’re thinking. “thank you, i mean i know you’ve seen my streams before, you commented once.” 

you cover your face with your hands, “oh god.” you groan out. 

heeseung laughs at you, “what? is it bad that you’ve watched me masturbate?” 

“no!” you shake your head quickly, eyes wide, “it’s just– i didn’t mean to comment that time– i didn’t even mean to press it! it’s just, just…” 

“i’m just that hot?” heeseung teases you, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“oh my god, shut up!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder. it’s then that you realize how close you’ve gotten on his couch. 

heeseung laughs harder, his face turning serious again when he speaks, “okay but seriously, anything you are or aren’t into?” 

you settle into your spot on the couch and think, “uh, i think i’m okay with anything.” you shrug, “but no anal though. and i’m more into, it being rough.” 

heeseung smirks and asks, “okay no anal. how about choking?” you nod in response, “slapping?” another nod from you, “how about degrading?” you blush and nod. 

“i’m okay with everything but anal, heeseung.” 

“okay, and if you wanna stop, should we come up with a safe word?” 

you ponder for a second and think, “how about, latte?”

heeseung smirks at you, “latte it is, then.” 

both of you stare at each other, lust and playfulness filling your expressions. somehow, your faces are only mere inches apart now as both of you take in the other’s features. you had only seen each other through a computer screen before. had only read each other's usernames on the top creators list– without even knowing your real names. and now you were about to give each other everything– including your first collab. 

your breath quiets as you look into heeseung’s eyes, scanning the brown in them before glancing down at his pretty lips. your lips are just centimeters away from his when he speaks again, “let’s start.” 

heeseung grabs your hand and pulls you up, guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom. he leans over his computer, setting up his account and livestream. you take the time to look around his room. 

his room is definitely the same one you’ve seen on live steam. the multiple monitors on his computer desk. a basic bed with a black and white comforter. and you recognized the few posters on his walls that he allowed to be seen in his lives. 

“okay, it’s ready.” heeseung tells you, “are you sure you wanna do this? we can stop whene–”

“i’m sure, heeseung.” 

“okay, i’ll press start live then,” 

“wait!” you reach for his shoulder, “what about your mask?” you know he’s never gone live without his mask– it’s the one thing that helps keep his identity unknown.

heeseung simply shrugs at you, “i mean, i can’t really eat you out with a mask on, can i?” 

your mouth drops open, but before you can say anything, the camera light flicks on, signaling that you’re live. the camera is pointed towards heeseung’s bed behind you as heeseung ushers you to sit on his usual gaming chair, he stands beside it. 

“hi guys,” heeseung says cooly to the camera. he lowly chuckles to himself as the comments start pouring in. there seems to be hundreds of comments in a second about “darlingdove01” and heeseung’s face. a lot of the comments are talking about how hot heeseung is and that they “always knew he’d be hot!”.  

“today we have a very special guest, darlingdove01 is here,” heeseung gestures to you. you wave at the camera, watching the viewer numbers grow higher and higher as the introduction continues. “and she told me that she likes anything… but anal.” 

“hey!” you shove him playfully with your shoulder. 

he only chuckles before continuing, resting his arm over the back of his gaming chair behind your head, “so today, i’m gonna do anything to please her.” he takes his other hand and cups your chin so you’re forced to look at him, “does that sound alright, darling?”

“yes,” you tell him, watching his warm brown eyes turn darker as you make eye contact. you can tell he’s no longer heeseung, but instead he’s “hluvsbabes”. 

“yes what?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“good girl,” heeseung leans down and presses his lips onto yours. you don’t have time to register that you are kissing the hluvsbabes. his lips are soft against yours, but their movements are deep and rough. just from the kiss you can tell what direction this live stream is going in. he pulls away too soon for your liking, “pull up your shirt.” 

your hands reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and lift them so your bare breasts are visible to heeseung and the audience. 

“fuck,” heeseung groans, his hands cupping both of them. both of you mentally note how perfectly they fit in his warm hands. he turns to the camera, “doesn’t she have the most beautiful tits?” 

heeseung starts to tweak both your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. your hand flies to grip the handle of the chair, your back arches into his touch. 

“that feel good?” he asks you with a smirk, obviously amused by your reaction. 

“yes, sir. they’re sensitive,” you admit. 

“are they?” heeseung tilts his head, “keep playing with them, then.” 

your hands replace heeseung’s. your hands are definitely not as big and as warm as heeseung’s. but you massage your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples like he told you to. 

meanwhile, heeseung starts to kiss down your revealed torso, his hands unzipping and pulling down your shorts so fast. you watch him get down on his knees in between your legs, his hot breath against your panties. heeseung groans once he’s eye level with your core and can see the faint wet strip on them. he could always see how wet you were on livestream, but now he gets to see in person. 

“i wanna make you feel good,” heeseung says against your skin, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, your legs spread wide for the camera to see. “are you gonna do whatever i say?” 

“yes, sir.” you nod down at him, watching his tongue lick his lips so close to your pussy. ‘i wanna be your slut.” 

heeseung chuckles against your skin, his fingers slip inside your panties as he speaks, “let me feel my slut’s pussy then.” 

you take a deep breath as his fingers start to massage your clit, exploring your pussy for the first time. he’s thought about his fingers touching you so many times before. he could hardly believe that you were actually in front of him right now. 

“you want me to taste your pussy, darling?” 

“please,” your voice sounds so breathy when you speak again, his fingers pressing hard. 

“ask me to.” 

“please taste my pussy, sir.” 

with that heeseung slides his middle finger into your core. it feels so long as it reaches right to your g spot immediately, as if he knew it’d be there. your jaw drops open as he pushes his finger in and out. a whine leaving your mouth as you start to move your hips to meet his finger. his palm is massaging your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of your core. 

heeseung then pulls his finger out of you, “take off your panties, show everyone your pussy.” heeseung leans more to the side as you do what he says. your panties drop to the floor and your legs are on either side of his gaming chair. “fuck, doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, everyone?” heeseung is staring at the camera as he massages your thighs. 

heeseung’s lips meet your core before you can comprehend. he’s making out with your clit, the sloppy sounds fill your ears and the audience’s as he sucks your clit into his mouth. he reaches his finger up to slide into your core again, so easily. 

“my finger barely fits in there,” heeseung smirks. 

his mouth continues to lick and suck on every part of your pussy. his tongue circles your clit in his mouth. your hand is gripping the chair arm as you watch him, unable to contain your moans. 

“fuck yes, sir.” you cry out, throwing your head back from pleasure. you don’t think anyone has been able to make you feel this good with their mouth before. your ex’s could never make you cum at all. 

heeseung is moaning against your core, letting you and the audience know that he is also enjoying this, “god this pussy tastes so good, tastes better than i’d ever imagined before.” your stomach tightens at his words, feeling high on the pleasure heeseung’s mouth and fingers is giving you so easily and the audience watching you both. “keep playing with those tits, darling.” 

your hands fly up to your sensitive nipples, almost forgotten by how pretty heeseung looks while he makes out with your pussy. your body’s whole senses are heightened. heeseung can start to feel you clench around his fingers as your hips start to buck up to his mouth, wanting more of him. 

“fuck that feels so good.” you whine out, your eyebrows furrowing together at the pleasure. 

“are you gonna cum?” heeseung asks lowly. he watches you nod at him, unable to form words. 

then, heeseung rips away from you. his mouth and finger gone and before you can realize, he’s standing again beside you. his hand wrapped around your neck gently– forcing you to look at him with your legs spread. 

“you have to ask for permission if you want to cum,” heeseung’s voice is stern as he looks you in the eyes, “understand?” 

“yes, sir.” 

heeseung’s smile returns as his hand leaves your neck, “here, taste yourself.” your mouth opens for heeseung to slide his finger inside your mouth. your lips close around his finger, sucking it into your mouth as your tongue swirls around it, wanting to taste yourself. “good girl.” heeseung removes his finger, and instead presses a kiss to your lips, softly, passionately, as if to check in on you. but you’re so hungry for an orgasm that you really would do anything right now. “are you ready to make me feel good?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“get on your knees.” 

you sit up, closing your legs for the first time and feeling how wet your inner thighs were. heeseung pushes his chair to the side as he stands, looking down at you as you kneel before him. “you wanna suck my cock?” heeseung questions you, noticing how you tighten your thighs at his question. his hand slides down on your chin for you to look up at him. you nod in response to him. “ask me.” 

“can i suck your cock, sir?” 

“good girl, take it out.” 

your hands work to unbutton his pants, pulling them down to his upper thigh to release his cock. you just have to stop and marvel at it. there in front of you is hluvsbabes huge cock that you had thought about stretching you out for weeks. it’s much bigger in person you think. it’s hard, and the tip is so pink as some veins swirl down it. 

“open your mouth.” heeseung starts to glide his dick into your mouth. your hand coming up to grip the base of it as your lips close around the tip. “god, keep those eyes on me.” heeseung groans out as you start to such his cock. heeseung keeps his hand on your head, hsi fingers meshing with your hair. 

you do keep your eyes on him with as much of his cock as you can manage in your mouth. your hand jerks what you can’t fit as you moan against his dick. 

“god you’re so big sir,” 

“yeah? think it’ll fit inside your pussy? think it’ll stretch you out so good?” heeseung retorts, watching your mouth work on his cock. he’d be lying if he said you weren’t making him close to his orgasm already, your innocent eyes looking at him as your mouth sucks his soul out. 

“yes, sir, please– want your cock so bad.” you speak before going back to sucking his cock. your tongue circles the hot, pink tip of it before tracing the delicious veins. your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth. 

“are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth?” 

you nod at him with his cock still fully in your mouth. heeseung moves both of his hands to grip your head as your own hand drops to your thighs, so tempted to play with your clit, but you know sir wouldn’t approve. 

heeseung starts to slowly move his hips so his cock moves in and out of your mouth. he stops when the tip is at your throat– feeling your throat tighten against the tip. he almost pulls out fully everytime, just so that the tip is at your swollen lips before he pushes back in again. 

“oh, my fucking god,” heeseung moans out, looking at the camera monitor to see him fucking your pretty mouth. your mouth feels too good for him to even notice that the viewer count is at 16,000. “play with my balls like a good girl.” 

heeseung continues to fuck your mouth as your hand reaches fro his balls. they are heavy in your palm as you start to massage them gently. tugging on them and moving them around easily with your salvia that has dripped down. 

heeseung pulls his dick fully out of your mouth, letting you breathe for a moment. you could feel your pussy drip down onto his carpet– you hoped it wouldn’t stain. 

“open your mouth,” heeseung tells you. your jaw drops open, revealing your used tongue and mouth. heeseung leans over you and let’s a drop of his spit lands right onto your tongue before he starts to hit his dick against your tongue. he mixes your spit with his on his cock and both of you groan out at that the thought of it. 

heeseung goes back to fucking your mouth. his grip on your head tight as he’s picked up the pace of his hips. his cock sliding so quickly in and out of your mouth. the sounds of your saliva and gurgling against his cock fill the room and microphone. 

“that’s it, like that, like that like a good girl,” heeseung groans out his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his own pleasure boiling. probably boiling too much if he wants this to last any longer. 

heeseung pulls away from you and pulls you with him for you to sit on the floor while he moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, his feet on the ground for you to sit in between them. your chest is heaving from excitement and lack of air. you watch as heeseung pulls down his pants fully and throws them on the floor beside his bed. 

heeseung’s hand wraps around your neck as he looks down at you, “you ready to get fucked, darling?” 

“yes, please.”

“ask me to fuck you.” 

“can you please fuck me, sir.” 

“get up on the bed and turn around.” 

heeseung’s voice is demanding as you scramble to stand up, your knees tired from kneeling for so long. you get up on his bed for the first time. you turn around so your ass is towards him in the air, your face pressed into his bed. 

heeseung pushes your chest further into his bed by placing his hand on your back, “stay like this like a good girl, okay?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“i’m gonna fuck this little pussy just like the slut you are.” heeseung grunts, spreading your ass cheeks more for him to slide his cock right inside of you.

the stretch of his cock is just what you imagined it would be. it’s almost blissful once he’s fully inside. you can feel the tip of his cock basically reaching your cervix. once he’s bottomed out completely, both of you groan out into his bedroom, pleasure taking over both of you. 

“there we go, darling,” heeseung grunts through his teeth as he starts to slide back out of you. both of you feel each and every vein of his cock sliding against your oh, so wet walls. “let sir fuck you like a slut.”

heeseung’s one hand grips your waist as the other one stays on your back. his hips quickly pick up pace, his cock easily going in and out of you due to his saliva and your juices mixing together. your hands grip the blanket on his bed, crying out into the bed as you finally get what you want. 

“oh my god it’s so big!” you whine out, your eyes trying to focus on the camera. 

“yeah? it’s so big and full just for you, it’s all just for you.” heeseung grunts out, his bangs covering his forehead like usual, his eyes entranced only on you. he watches as your entire body jerks forward everytime he slams his cock into you. his hands run down and grab your ass, wanting to finally feel it after he’s seen it so many times on your livestreams. 

heeseung slaps your ass, making you cry out a curse. the pain of it turning you on even more. you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as heeseung fucks you even rougher. heeseung’s balls are soaked from your juices. 

“reach down and rub your clit for me.” heeseung demands you, trying to keep his voice steady when he speaks.

you manage to sneak your arm under your body to start rubbing circles on your clit with your index and middle fingers. you instantly cry out. with your fingers on your clit and heeseung managing to hit your g spot with every single thrust the pleasure starts to boil up more and more in your tummy. 

“oh shit!” 

“you better not cum unless i tell you to,” heeseung smacks your ass again, harder, a warning. “you hear me?” 

“fu-fuck yes, sir.” 

heeseung suddenly grabs you up from the bed from under your arms, mumbling a “come here” before he turns you to face the camera. both of you standing now with his cock still lunged inside of you. 

“let everyone see this fucking slut’s body.” heeseung grunts out, staring directly at the camera as he continues to thrust up into you from the back. he reaches over your front, rubbing your clit for you now. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, trying to keep standing upwards. “you like everyone seeing me use you like this? like using you to get off?” 

“f-fuck sir, can i cum? please?” you whine out, barely being able to keep your eyes open as you look at him. 

“yeah? you wanna cum, darling?” heeseung voice is almost teasing as he doesn’t stop his movements. 

“please let me cum, sir. please i’m so close.” 

“ok, cum for me, do it.” heeseung nods, his grunts loud in your ear as he manages to fuck you faster and faster. 

you can’t lift your head from being thrown back onto heeseung’s shoulder. your body feels weak as heeseung fucks you infront of the camera, probably hundreds of people watching you come undone on hluvsbabes’ cock. you’ve been so close to orgasming for which feels like hours at this point. 

“i’m cumming! i-i’m cumming!” you manage to cry out. your moans get higher in pitch as you finally reach your high. 

if heeseung wasn't holding your body up with his arms, then you wouldn’t fell straight to the floor. the pleasure was almost over consuming. your body was on high sensitivity everywhere. to be honest, it had been awhile since anyone besides yourself or your vibrator had made you cum. that probably not getting any dick for a while and then fucking the hluvsbabes would probably make you feel as lightheaded as you do now. 

heeseung gently pulls his cock from you, his hands slowing down on your clit before pulling away from it. he leads you to lay down on his bed. your head is on his pillow as he crawls on top of you. your bodies are still very visible to the camera from the way his bed is positioned. 

heeseung starts to press soft, gentle kisses into your neck and jaw, letting you calm down from your very obvious, hard climax. 

you hear heeseung chuckle into your ear before he speaks, “is this a bad time to tell you that i donated to you on your livestream before?” 

through your post-nut haze, your eyes widen as you process the information, “what? when?” 

heeseung laughs before he moves down your body, kissing every (sweaty) inch that he could, “a few days ago i guess, darling. i’ve watched your streams quite a lot to be honest.” 

the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes it click in your head. “oh my god, you were the person who donated like 200$ the other day!” you also start laughing at the realization. who could not believe that hluvsbabes not only watched multiple of your streams, but also donated to you. your competitor for top creator was also boosting your content. 

“yeah, i didn’t know how or if i should tell you that. but i guess now is the better time.” heeseung pulls away from your body so he’s on his knees hovering over you. “now put those legs up, let me see your swollen pussy again.” 

heeseung helps guide you to hook your arms around your knees, holding your legs up, pressed against your chest. your entire core is exposed for not only heeseung’s eyes, but the camera’s and all of the audience’s. 

“god please but your cock back inside of me, sir.” 

heeseung drags his cock through your folds teasingly, “yeah? the slut wants to be stretched out again?” 

“yes! sir, yes!” 

heeseung guides his cock back inside of you with his hand, bottoming out completely in one thrust. your arms stay hooked around your knees, your hands resting on your ankles to keep yourself from squirming from the pleasure. 

heeseung leans over you, his hand coming down to choke you again. his grip on your neck tight as he starts the previous pace he had. rough and hard. your whole body moves with every thrust, his headboard hitting his wall. 

“oh fuck oh fuck!” you cry out, your pussy so sensitive from being overstimulated. 

heeseung could feel your walls flutter around his cock, “you better not cum.” he pulls his cock out again, his hand slaps the tip of his cock over your clit, making you jerk up into his pillows. “tell me you won’t cum without permission, slut.” 

“i-i won’t cum without permission, sir.” 

heeseung slides back into you, his pace rough. the banging of his headboard in rhythm with his thrusts. your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts. heeseung keeps both of his hands on your waist as he hovers over you. his main focus is to fuck you so good that you forget everything else. and by the way your eyes start to haze over with pleasure he can tell that he isn’t too far from it. 

“keep your legs up,” heeseung grunts to you, reminding you to keep your knees by your face. your swollen pussy is visible to him now. he has clear access to see his cock fucking into you. your lips are so puffy that he can’t help his thumb rubbing your also swollen clit. your head is thrown back into the pillow, his hard, circles on your clit mixing with his hard thrusts are overpowering you completely. 

heeseung leans over you, his hand gripping your neck again. his face is inches from you, his lips almost on yours. his thrusts don’t stop as he chokes you. 

“you like being a good girl for me?” heeseung asks you more quietly, loosening his grip on your neck for a moment to let you speak. 

“y-yes sir, i love it.” you nod up to him, completely submissive to him. 

“turn around for me again, then.” 

although your body felt weak from the pleasure, your adrenaline was rushing enough for you to be able to get up and turn over quite quickly. your ass up in the air as you grip onto the pillow in front of you. you feel heeseung behind you, lining up his hard, soaked cock with your soaked pussy. 

“push back on it, darling.” 

you let your knees push back, feeling his cock insert inside of you, filling you up yet again. this angle made him feel even bigger. his cock pressing into your cervix is only when you stop pushing back. heeseung’s hands land palm down on your ass when you bottom out. the pain makes you jut forward. the moan that escapes your lips as the pain settles on your ass is sinful. 

“god, i love your ass,” heeseung smacks it again, watching it start to turn red, turning him on more he thought his cock was going to explode any minute now. 

with that thought, heeseung starts sliding in and out of you again. his hand reaching over your back to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your upper half backward. the pain from his pulling makes you cry out in the best way. all of your senses seem to be overcome by heeseung. your grip on his pillow that smelt like him, tightened. 

“you like being fucked like this? like being used?” heeseung grunts out to you, his own eyebrows furrowing together as your walls clench around him. 

“ye-yeah, sir.” 

“say it.” 

“i like being used, sir.” 

“look at me while i fuck you.” 

with his hand still pulling your hair, you turn your head to look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are swollen from probably biting them so much. there’s sweat dripping down his line of abs that you just want to lick off. his bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he looks so hot. 

heeseung continues to fuck you until his thrusts get sloppy, his grunts get softer and his headboard isn’t banging against his wall. you turn to look at him, “let me ride you.” 

his hand smacks against one of your ass cheeks, making you cry out, “ask me.” 

“can i please ride you, sir?” 

heeseung pulls out of you, both of you switching places so now heeseung’s head is in the pillow that you were gripping. his legs are flat out against the bed as you crawl over him. both of your knees are on either side of him as you look down at him now. 

slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. you close your eyes as he bottoms out in you once again. this angle felt entirely different. you could feel how hard and big he was inside of you. heeseung’s hands run up and down your bare thighs, letting you get use to the angle. 

“you good?” he asks from below you, concern on his face. 

“yeah, just sensitive -is all.” you shrug to him and start to move slowly. you start out slow, wanting to build both of your orgasms again. your knees lift your body up and down with the help of heeseung’s hands on your waist, he helps lift you. 

your hands grip your tits, massaging them again. your sensitive nipples hard against your palm. you start to bounce down on his harder, his tip hitting your g spot everytime now. you cry out in pleasure again. 

“fuck just like that,” you tell him, your eyes closed as you nod to him. 

“like that?” heeseung teases you, his cock hitting your g spot again. 

“y-yes,” you tell him, bouncing harder. 

“fuck, i love his pussy,” heeseung grunts to you, “so warm and tight around my cock.” 

“oh my god,” your body falls forward, your hands resting on either side of his head as heeseung takes over the thrusts completely. his hands on your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. “fuck, sir.” 

heeseungs grip on you leaves you to go nowhere. just stay on top of him as he fucks into you. your knees feel weak against his mattress. you can feel his balls slapping your ass every time he bottoms out in you. heeseung can feel your juices dripping down onto his lower stomach. 

“okay turn around, slut, let the audience see you.” heeseung gently pushes your core up and off of him. your mind feels dazed as heeseung has to literally, physically flip you over on him. 

now that you’re in reverse cowgirl, you can see yourself in the camera’s monitor. heeseung lays underneath you still, so just your bare body can be seen completely. you look so different you usually do, you’re glowing. 

your feet and arms hold your body up over heeseung, his hands on your waist as he slides himself up into you. 

“oh fuck!” you cry out, watching heeseung dick disappear inside of you in the camera. you start to bounce up and down on his cock again, though you keep your eyes open to watch yourself. 

“shit, keep going, baby.” heeseung grunts below you, “just like that.” 

with every thrust heeseung’s balls are hitting your clit. you can hear a wet squelch between your bodies everytime you move. your pussy is so wet around his cock. heeseung wraps his arm around your body, massaging your clit with his fingers in a circle once again. 

“yes, sir! rub my clit, sir please!” you cry out to him. your hands sturdy yourself on his chest behind you as you continue to bounce on him. his cock filling you up every time. his hard balls slapping against your pussy. his fingers keep moving against your clit. “i’m so close, sir, so close!” 

suddenly, heeseung’s fingers stop and he’s pushing you off of him. your chest is heaving as you look back on him. your pussy is clamping around nothing, so desperate to cum. 

“lay down,” heeseung is also out of breath when he speaks, “wanna see your face when you cum.” heeseung grabs your forearm and helps you lay down again. he puts your one leg up to your face, allowing him access to slide into your fucking soak pussy again. 

heeseung holds your leg up, while the other starts to rub your clit again. his thrusts continue to stretch you out, to hit your cervix over and over again. you aren’t sure how much longer you can last with this much pleasure he continuously gives you. you’ve never had sex this good before. 

“want me to fill up your little pussy?” heeseung grunts above you. 

“yes, sir.” 

“ask me.” 

“please cum inside of me!” you cry out, heeseung’s hand smacks your thigh before returning to hold your leg up, “own this pussy, fucking own it it’s yours!” 

“oh fuck!” heeseung grunts out, your words making him closer to his own orgasm so quickly. 

“oh my god i wanna feel you fill me up so bad, sir.” you were becoming so desperate, so needy. you wanted to cum so bad. you wanted heeseung to cum so bad. 

“fuck me, keep talking, keep talking, darling.” 

“please cum inside of me! i want it so bad!” you tell him honestly. his thrusts making your whole body move with each thrust. you can feel his cock start to twitch inside of you. his moans getting higher, mixing with your own. 

“fuck, baby, i’m gonna fucken cum,” heeseung tells you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and harder. 

“me too, me too.” you cry out, your eyes closing as the pleasure takes over you. 

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed together as the pleasure became too much for him, too. curses and moans fill up his bedroom– entertain the audience that’s watching you through the camera. he feels your walls clench harder around him than ever before as his cock starts to spurt his white sperm. 

heeseung paints your walls with his cum as you grip his forearms tight. your second orgasm making your body feel numb from how good you feel. his thrusts finally stop as his grunts slow down. his cock rests inside of you as he lays on top of you. both of you catching your breaths and coming down from your highs for one second. 

“fuck,” heeseung curses in your ear, his chest heaving against yours. he finally pulls out of you, both of you watching his cum slowly trickle out of your pussy. “god that’s so hot.”  heeseung reaches down to swipe some of his cum. 

you immediately open your mouth, wanting a taste of it. heeseung rests his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste his salty sperm. you moan around his fingers, sucking them dry of his cum. 

“you’re such a good girl.” heeseung grunts out, “you’re gonna make me hard again.” 

you laugh around his fingers, “i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

heeseung smirks at you and kisses you deeply. both of your eyes closing as you welcome the other’s lips. the taste of heeseung’s cum not bothering either of you. 

heeseung pulls away from you and is the first to stand up. he reaches over and tosses you his shirt to slip on before he heads back to his computer desk. 

you easily slip on his shirt and pull his sheets and blanket over top of your bare legs. 

“holy shit.” heeseung exclaims, pure shock and what almost sounds like fear in his voice. 

“what?” you sit up in his bed properly, trying to look at his computer screen. 

“there’s 30,000 viewers right now.” 

“holy shit.” you cover your mouth. you had never had that many viewers before in your life. 30,000 viewers, it’s literally like yours and heeseung’s fan bases came together to view your live stream. 

heeseung clears his throat, “uh, thank you guys so much, really. we hope you enjoyed, right?” he looks over at you from his shoulder. 

“right, we’ll see you next time, hopefully. thank you.” 

“right, because there definitely needs to be a next time.” heeseung winks and with a final wave he ends the stream. you notice the red light on the camera turns off. 

you lay back in heeseung’s pillows, feeling tired as your legs gain back their strength. you hear heeseung hum gently as he fixes things on his computer, on his hluvsbabes account. you feel relaxed as you lay in his bed, wanting to sleep so bad. 

“holy shit!” heeseung yells louder suddenly, his humming stopping as he pushes his chair back, standing up in only his boxers. 

“what?” your heart races, concerned from his yelling. “what happened?”

“y/n,” heeseung turns to you with a silly grin on his face, “do you know how much money we made off of that?” 

you sit up straight, leaning closer to him though he’s meters away, “how much, heeseung.” 

heeseung can’t contain his excitement when he states, “15k.” 

“oh my god!” you cover your mouth, not believing what you’re hearing. “you’re fucking lying.” 

“no i’m not! come look!” 

you stand up, legs wobbling a bit, but heeseung catches your arm nonchalantly. bringing you over to sit in his chair again. there, on the computer screen, is the number 15,000$ in tips connected to the livestream you had finished. 

“oh my god, heeseung!” you turn to him, your excitement meeting his. both of you wrap your arms around each other, your squeals filling the room as you rock side to side with excitement. “15k!” 

“15k!” heeseung shouts back as he pulls away slightly, his hands still on your waist. 

“now we definitely have to do it again.” you tease him. 

heeseung smiles, but you notice his shoulders tense, “yeah, but before that,” heeseung swallows harshly, “could we go on a date?’ 

you sit up in his chair, wearing his shirt and nothing else, “wow, the hluvsbabes wants to go on a date with me.” 

“of course, i mean, i recently got a lot of money. so, i can spend it all on you.” 

you shove his shoulder with your hand, “of course i’ll go on a date with you, heeseung.” 

“really?” heeseung asks, his face lighting up so prettily. 

“yeah, but only if you fuck me really good after.” 

“that, i can definitely promise.”

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

[jjunberry]

what are your thoughts on fratboy!yeonjun ??? he is just so fineee like he makes me feral 🫠

FRAT BOY! YEONJUN

sfw:

frat boy yeonjun! who waits after your lectures for you. “jjunie you didn’t have to wait,” you shyly walked along side him. he pulled you to his side. “of course i did, what kind of man would i be if i let you walk home alone?”

frat boy yeonjun! who gets protective of you at parties. his eyes are always scanning your movements. “dude she isn’t going anywhere,” beomgyu snickered. “i’m just making sure she’s safe.”

frat boy yeonjun! is afraid of commitment but can’t hide his jealousy. hates seeing you with other boys, “y/n seriously he’s bad news stay away from him” you couldn’t hide the scoff. “what’s so different from the girls you see.”

frat boy yeonjun! finally asks you to be his after an incident during a party. an older boy tried to slip something in your drink, yeonjun literally beat the guys ass. “t-thank you jjunie.” he held you. “always,” and he meant it, “be mine?” you nodded, kissing him softly.

nsfw:

frat boy yeonjun! keeps a drawer full of condoms. the site of them made you nervous, he was your first and far more experienced than you. you held the extra large condom, “jjunie will it hurt?” he grabbed the condom kissing your neck, “only for a little bit, but i’ll be as gentle as i can.”

frat boy yeonjun! who slept with another girl after seeing you talking to a random boy. “baby please she didn’t mean anything,” he dropped to his knees holding your waist. he left sloppy kisses on your abdomen. once you gave in, he pulled your shorts and panties down, devouring your pussy.

frat boy yeonjun! is a total munch. he always has his face buried in your pussy any chance he gets. his face covered in your juices, pupils blown wide, “fuck baby you taste so good,” your fingers gripped his hair shoving his face back towards your aching cunt.

frat boy yeonjun! who loves to breed you. convinced you to go at it raw one night drunk, and you haven’t turned back since. his hips are snapping against yours at an ungodly pace, before he goes stiff. hot, white strings of cum paint your walls. “fuck,” he grunts fucking his cum back into you. “don’t worry baby i stalked up on plan b,” he winked causing you to smack his chest.

🗒️: like what you’ve read? send a request! guidelines for requesting here.

author’s note: ummm frat boy yeonjun also makes me feral 😩 hope u enjoyed tysm for the request

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[wosoamazing]

Celiac

McFoord x Child!R

Warnings: Vomiting, Celiac Disease A/N: Doesn't really have a plot and I don't like the ending, only short but at least it's something

“Ma, I don’t feel good,” you told her as your stomach cramped, you were sitting beside her as you watched some of the girls train, your Ma having a quick break.

“Oh Munchkin, do you think you’re getting a bug?” you shook your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach tighter, “what have you eaten today?” you listed off everything you’d eaten that day. 

“Kyra, did you check the oats were gluten free?” your Ma asked the younger Australian, as you leaned your weight into your Ma’s side, stomach feeling worse by the second.

“Um, no, I thought they were, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise, I should’ve checked anyway just to make sure, I-” “It’s okay really, don’t worry, you didn’t do it on purpose and we know you tried your hardest, could you just tell Cait that Y/N/N is having an episode and to talk to Jonas, I’m just going to take her inside.” Your Ma asked the now guilty girl who nodded before quickly jogging off to your Mum.

-

“Hey Monkey, you not feeling well?” Your Mum spoke softly to you as she walked into the locker room, you just shook your head slightly in response to her, “Jonas said we were right to go home,” she told your Ma, from just a quick glance it was clear you were quite unwell. You were sitting in your Ma’s lap cured into a ball, her arms tightly wrapped around you, she rocked you slightly back and forth as she murmured comforting words to you, hating how there was nothing she could do to help you. 

“I think the oats Kyra used in the Anzac Biscuits she made for us all weren’t actually gluten free, she felt really bad but I told her not to worry and that it wasn’t her fault, do you want to have a shower and then I will and we can take her home?” Your Mum nodded before quickly heading to the shower.

-

“That’s it Monkey, let it all out, hopefully it will make you feel better,” your Mum encouraged you as you were hunched over the toilet in the bathroom, stomach harshly ejecting it’s contents, you sat in her lap and she held your hair back with one hand while the other rubbed soft circles into your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” your Mum told you as you collapsed back into her, curling into a ball, pressing your side against her front. Your stomach was super bloated but also intensely cramping and you felt really tired.

“Do you think we should try your tablets? Maybe the anti-sick ones first and then you muscle ones?” she asked as her hand carded through your hair.

“P-please,” your voice answered barely above a whisper.

“Okay, let's just stay here until Ma comes out of her shower, I’ll message her to bring them to us,” she murmured into the top of your head before kissing it.

_______

Your Mum’s were quite thankful for their now quiet day, not realising how much they both needed it. Thankfully the anti-nausea meds had worked and you had only thrown up once. Your muscle relaxers helped a bit but you were still in a lot of pain and your stomach was still cramping quite badly. When you arrived home your Mum’s took you into their room, where you almost immediately fell asleep on your Mum. You had moved in your sleep and now you were sleeping on top of your Ma, hand clutching the fabric of your Mum’s shirt to make sure she stayed. They had a movie playing in the background as they organised some things, in the middle of a discussion about the Olympics and whether you would go on camp with your Mum or go and watch some games with your Ma when the doorbell rang. Your Mum pried your hands off of her shirt and quickly got up to find a guilty looking Kyra on the other side of the door when she opened it.

“Kyra? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at training?” Your Mum questioned her.

“I feel really bad about y/n/n, Jonas let me go early, I bought some things for her,” she told your Mum as she presented the gift basket to her. 

“Thank you Kyra, that’s very kind of you, and honestly it’s not your fault, it was an accident, we understand.” Kyra nodded as she fiddled with the bottom of her hoodie, “you can see her if you want, she is currently asleep, and not very well, but I’m sure she won’t mind you coming to say hi,” the young Aussie nodded and followed your Mum through to where you were. You had woken up now, and Katie was helping you drink some water, you were still quite unwell, and looked like you were falling asleep sitting up.

“Monkey, Kyra came to see you,” your Mum told you as she walked into the room.

“Kyra?” you said groggily and she softly nodded her head, the younger girl stepped inside the room and sat down on the bed next to you, to which you climbed into her lap and fell asleep.

[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wander what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[castiwls]

imgonnagetyouback - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'you'll find, that you were never not mine (You're mine)'

Requested; anon

Notes; reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

“He’s on a date?” The book you’d been reading slipped from your hand as the words left your mouth. Sam nodded grabbing his laptop from the table and sending you a slight smile. “He said not to tell you but…” He trailed off shrugging his shoulders. “You were gonna find out anyways.” 

You watch him for a moment, pursing your lips as a pang of jealousy runs through you. Pushing it down you shake your head. “I don’t care.” a lie. “We broke up.” 

Sam paused, watching you for a moment his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the sudden tension in your body. “Sure.” He sounded far from convinced. It wasn't his place to get in between whatever it was you and Dean had going on, he’d tried once before and it had only ended with him being more confused than before.

He watched you for a moment longer as you picked the book back up, slowly thumbing through it. “Night.” He sighed. You hummed a quiet reply your brain going a mile a minute.

He was on a date. You scoffed quietly to yourself placing the book down, you didn’t care. Dean and you weren’t a thing anymore you held no claim over him.

Though the thought of him with another girl left a jealous pit in your stomach. 

Grabbing your phone you quickly checked the time before mindlessly scrolling. At least an hour passed before the sound of footsteps broke the silence which hung in the air. Your head shot up as you looked towards the doorway of the kitchen, a small smile playing on your lips as Dean turned the corner, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed you.

“Good date?” 

He stared at you for a moment before a smile of his own grew on his lips and he nodded. He didn’t say anything else as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer before sitting down opposite you. 

You both fell quiet as you went back to your phone. You could feel Dean’s gaze burning through you as he lent back in his chair. “You jealous?”

You looked up a frown pulling at your lips. “Why would I be?” You placed your phone down, crossing your hands on the table. “Well, you did sit up till I came back and…” He leaned forward slightly placing his chin on your hand. “You have that look in your eyes, the one you get when you're pissed but don’t want anyone to know.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t waiting for you, I was helping Sam.”

“Well…I don’t see Sam anywhere.”

“He went to bed not long ago. That's why.”

Dean hummed leaning back. “I don’t believe you.” He pushed himself up from his chair coming to stand beside you. You turned slightly in your chair, looking up as he stopped in front of you.

“You're jealous. I know you are so you may as well just admit it, Sweetheart.” He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting slightly as he nudged your foot with his own.

You glared up at him, your teeth catching on your lip. Part of you really wanted to punch that smirk on his face in that moment, but you also couldn’t deny the way your heart seemed to flutter at his closeness.

“M’not jealous.” You smiled moving to stand. Your breath caught in your throat slightly as your arm brushed his. “I don’t care. We broke up, You're not mine anymore you can do as you like.” 

Dean flattered slightly at your comment as he seemed to think for a moment. “Anyways, can’t have been that good. I don’t see her anywhere.” You hummed before moving to brush past him.

You barely got two steps before a hand wrapped around your wrist. Dean pulled you back, caging you in as your back hit the edge of the table. Your hands flew back to steady yourself as he planned his own beside them. 

“I know what you're doing.” He leaned down his breath ghosting against your lips. “And it’s not going to work.” 

You took a breath, your face still calm as you held his gaze. “I’m not doing anything.” 

He laughed quietly shaking his head. “You waited here on purpose and you knew damn well that I didn’t like her the minute I walked through that door yet you still questioned me.” He looked away for a moment before turning his attention back to you. 

“You think I was trying to rile you up?” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. He was right. You’d known the minute he walked in alone that the date couldn’t have gone that well and you’d also realised that he’d be riled up just enough that if you played your cards right you’d end up getting exactly what you wanted.

And what you wanted back what was rightfully yours. 

This was far from the first break-up you and Dean had ever had and every time it ended exactly the same. You’d break up, he’d go on a date - it hopefully wouldn't go well, he’d come back riled up, and within 24 hours you’d be back together again like nothing had ever happened.

He shook his head, a fond smile growing on his lips. “C’mere.” His lips pressed against yours and you practically melted into his body. 

It was a game you both played. He equally knew how to pull your strings and every time it worked. 

After a moment he pulled back, one of his hands moving to rub circles into your waist. “Bedroom?”

[sunshineandspencer]

heyyy!! idk if you take requests or anything but I was listening the song “Three Letters” from She Loves Me and heard the line “If it weren’t for your endearing letters/ I’d be flying south will all the geese” and totally thought of Garcia signing up Spencer for a lonely hearts thing (as a kinda joke kinda not) and so he starts writing the reader but don’t know it’s each other. then they agree to meet somewhere and realize it’s each other and?! idk if that makes sense lol thought it was cute though

Three Letters (Request)

A/N: Hello!!!! I definitely do. I just haven’t had the chance to sort it all out (colds and farming sims own my life) but let me tell you this idea has me kicking and screaming. I’ve done something like this before but I can’t find it for the life of me and I love the idea that they’re writing to each other and just don’t realise - I took it as the sense that they’re co-workers and Garcia signed them both up, not expecting them to get each other. I really hope this is what you were looking for!! Also I have never heard of a lonely hearts thing (I’m British) but I love the idea of it, and hope that it’s definitely what google told me it is.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Garcia is tired of Spencer being single, and if the only way to fix that is to sign him up for a singles pen-pal society, then so be it. While she’s at it, let her add their other co-worker as well, there’s no way that could have any impact.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: fluff, implied sa but nothing detailed

be added to the taglist

Some part of him knew that this was a good thing, that talking to someone and hopefully getting a relationship out of this was a good thing.

However, Penelope - loving, caring, thoughtful Penelope - had been hard at work ever since she met him to find him somebody to love. It.. hadn’t gone well, and that is the politest possible way he could’ve phrased that without hurting her feelings.

First there were the dates, with a collection of either Penelope, JJ or Elle’s friends - none of which had turned out great.

In fact, one woman had stormed out the minute she saw him, because she assumed that FBI agents were all muscle and Spencer was the last thing she wanted to see. Another zoned out every single time he started talking, just humming or nodding until even he realised that she wasn’t interested.. she fell asleep in her damn salad. The final straw, however, was the woman who got outrageously drunk and tried to blatantly ignore his aversion to touch.

He got out of that as soon as he found her friend to get her home safely, and swore off ever trusting a date from any of those three women ever again.

Penelope, however, didn’t give up.

Her next plan of attack started online, with dating websites. Notorious in their line of work for usually being full of catfish and UnSubs, and many dating websites led to men and women being murdered. But she’s insistent, and he’s desperate to love somebody.

There are only several things that went better than his first foray into the online dating scene, and one of those is a vehicular fire, which tells you all you need to know.

Several of the women he matched with ended up only looking for someone to help them cheat on their significant others, many of them married. Which made his bright outlook on love slightly dimmer. The final woman from the online dating websites was the woman who turned out to actually be an UnSub - looking for cute young men to complete her ‘collection’, a human version of an antique doll set.

It was not a fun case to take part in, certainly not when he was greeted with the way he would’ve turned out had he met up with the woman and not done a background check on her first.

After that, he firmly shut down Penelope’s insistence on dating apps as well, his technophobia had barely survived having to use a computer for so long, and the library computers were an embarrassing place to try and match with the ‘love of his life’. So an app on his phone. Absolutely not.. he doesn't even know how to do that.

There was a break, a few months where Penelope didn’t try to push him into anything new or exciting, or downright horrifying. He turned twenty-four, he had a failed date with JJ, in which she actually bought along Penelope, and suddenly it all changed.

In his letterbox a couple weeks after that, was a letter. It had his home address on, but not his name, merely addressed to whoever this may concern.

It was gorgeous craftsmanship, a cream envelope with an actual lilac wax stamp on the back, with little flowers pressed into the wax. Of course, assuming this was an incoming case, he called Garcia to try and trace it, where she finally came clean.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot, I signed you up to a lonely hearts club. It’s a small society for two single people to exchange letters anonymously so you can get to know each other over time. It’s all handwritten! I thought you’d like that more than having to use a computer again. I’m sorry pumpkin, I- I can take you out of the society if you like?”

He thought about it, he actually thought about it so long that Penelope actually thought he’d hung up on her, or died, or something else entirely because he’s never this quiet.

But.. how bad could it really be?

It could, theoretically, be terrible, but it can’t hurt to try one last thing. He would have contact with whoever this is - he’s assuming a woman from the handwriting and the care gone into just the envelope alone - and if it all goes to hell then it just wasn’t meant to be.

One last try at love, he can grant himself that. Anonymously, he can do that, give himself a pen name and try to fall for words on a page - his written word was always better than his verbal flirting anyway.

As it turned out, however, he didn’t need to give himself a name, she’d given him one already.

“Hello sweet thing! Sorry if that comes off as too strong already, I’m just incredibly nervous and didn’t know what else to call you, so that is officially your name from now on. Unless you hate it, then you can absolutely tell me and I promise not to cry about it. I really don’t know what to say, do I start with my favourite things? Well.. I like Doctor Who, and I’ve always--”

The more he read of the letter, the more he wished it was even longer. This woman, wherever she is, whoever she is, is starting to make this out as the best idea Penelope has ever had.

He all but crashed his way into the stationary store, grabbing the prettiest envelopes and pens, and little details to add to the letter that he was so excited to add. Steamrolling through the store and getting back home to quickly respond. Instantly realising he was being far more.. poetic than he meant.

It was the combination of the childish excitement of having a penpal, his mother reading him love poems as a child, and his extensive knowledge on love letters.

Hell, he even ended his own letter with a Shakespeare quote. Basic, he knows, but it’s hard to think of anything beyond wanting her reply.

“‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’ Yours, Sweet thing.”

It had been nearly three months of exchanging letters, and he was absolutely smitten with this woman. They had stuck to the rules and not given away any of their information, only talking about the things they like and eventually writing nearly daily.

It would be daily if it weren’t for the useless postage system.

He knows that she lives pretty close to him, he knows her address, plus they’d both admitted to searching each other’s houses, and they’re only about twenty minutes away by car.

That’s it, however, they haven’t looked for the other person despite being desperate for it.

They had described themselves through letters, but both ultimately agreed to just talk and see how it goes and base their furthering relationship off that rather than off their looks. Of course, that just sprung up more worries that he won’t visually be enough whenever they finally meet.

Meeting was, by far, the one thing he both wanted and dreaded.

This woman, who he had only ever addressed with a barrage of cute nicknames and poetical references, who understood his every word and reciprocated his nerdy obsessions and added her own.. he wants to know her so badly.

There is a very big underlying fear that the minute they meet, it’ll be over, the magic of what they are will fade and he’ll lose all this. The thought of her letters being sent to someone else physically pains him.

Penelope, ecstatic that one of her ideas had finally worked, had been badgering to meet with his ‘mystery woman’ for weeks now.

Finally, when she also, tentatively asked to meet with him for Valentine’s Day of all days, he knew she couldn’t deny her a single thing. Not when she sent with her letter, a coupon for flowers on their date.

A date. God.. he has a date for Valentine’s Day.

Not really a holiday he’s ever put much thought into before, but now it suddenly felt like the most important day that had ever existed. And one that came up far sooner than he expected it to.

Even with the place booked - a cute little café a little ways between both their apartments - and his outfit picked, and a card and little teddy picked with the help of Penelope, he didn’t feel ready. Perhaps it’s the lingering fear of rejection the minute she has to deal with him in person, or the fact that his last dates certainly didn’t go well.

Even with Penelope’s reassurance that she’ll adore him, especially after she actually read through his twelve page letter after she’d asked for his opinion on Egyptian mythology. Sending back her own absurdly long letter with a bunch more questions and her own fun facts that she could remember. He’s still absolutely losing his mind at the thought of having to finally meet her.

He got to the café about half an hour earlier than he needed to, wanting to make sure it was perfect (definitely not because he would’ve gone insane at home).

Spending whatever time it took for her to arrive making the table look nice, messing with his hair in the reflection and wondering if it really was getting too long. Constantly fixing his tie, and redoing it a hundred times over and tucking into his maroon cardigan sweater which Elle had called ‘dorky’.

Once it got to fifteen minutes before their date should’ve started, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, immediately rushing to get up and turn to meet his mystery writer. But.. it’s just the waiter, asking if he wanted another drink.

Jesus, they probably think he’s been stood up, and he quickly asks for another glass of water. 

As the man walked away, he ran his fingers through his hair again, looking towards the door - he’d been sat with his back facing it or else he wouldn’t have stopped staring for fifteen minutes.

Immediately, someone was looking at him, a vague sense of recognition swimming across her face. For a few split seconds he thinks it could be her, a beautiful woman with a bouquet of purple lilac blooms in her hands, but then he realises who it is, offering a small wave.

She’s friends with Penelope and, by extension, he’s spoken to and interacted with her quite a few times. They got on pretty well but never anything more than that since she’s always busy, part of the FBI’s CSI unit, and she’d even helped on a few cases before. But she isn’t here for him, she can’t be.

Walking over, she gives him a bright smile, eyes darting to the empty table and three empty water glasses - he’s been here for a while.

“Spencer! Hi! It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, I like the outfit.”

Looking down at herself for a few moments, she grins and then looks back up, doing a quick spin and then settling him with a mock-serious look.

“I’ve got a hot date, Penny said he would like this.”

“You look beautiful, don’t worry.”

Ahh, there goes any chance that she’s here for him, offering a smile and reassuring her that she looks great, eyes darting behind her to the door as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Eventually sucking a deep breath between her teeth and looking back as well.

Which got his attention, especially when she looked around the rest of the café with a confused look on her face. Sighing softly and looking around, his date wasn’t here, may as well help her.

“What does he look like?”

Turning back, she offered him a bashful smile, but she wasn’t going to turn down his offer of help, not when he’s tall and can see over all the stupid tall people around the café. Also.. it’s a very weird thing to explain.

Moving a hand to fidget with her necklace, his eyes focusing on it, vividly remembering her letters.

“--honestly, I have the coping mechanisms of a child. I still play with my necklace when I get nervous.”

“I don’t actually know, it’s sort of a blind date. Really hard to explain, Penelope kind of set us up in a way. I’m actually about fifteen minutes early so he’s probably not even here.”

There is.. no way this is happening right now. She’s still looking around the café for her mystery date, who might just be standing in front of her and he.. doesn’t know what to say or how to get his tongue to pick up from the base of his mouth.

Suddenly, and pretty violently, he’s flooded with the personality of the woman he’s been talking to for months, all of it projected onto her in front of him. It matches, from what he remembers.

The vague descriptions, her proximity to the FBI building, the fact she knows Penelope, the little TARDIS pin he’d seen on her lanyard that he never got the nerves to ask her about. Turning up to a date with a guy she doesn’t know, holding a bouquet of flowers that clearly weren’t for her, causing the flower token in his back pocket to start burning.

Fishing it out and stepping closer, getting her attention, surprised eyes snapping up to meet his at his sudden proximity. Until he took her hand and shoved the handmade coupon into it, her breathing immediately coming in short as they both looked down at it. Her voice trembled slightly.

“Oh~ hello sweet thing..”

“.. hello.” At his soft voice, she looked up and she gave him a completely bashful smile that matched the cute little poetic ramblings she’s been obsessed with for months. “Uhm, are those for me then?”

They both looked down at the flowers in her hands and she handed them over, feeling her heart shoot up into her throat as their hands brushed. Pointing at the purple lilac blooms as if he wouldn’t already know the meaning.

Needing to focus on something other than the fact that she’s going to kiss Penelope Garcia hard on the mouth for this.

“They uh- they are usually given to someone you meet for the first time, and signify the first emotions of love. Kind of love at first sight- not- not that I’m saying I’m in love with you, that would be a crazy thing to say on the first date- absolutely crazy--”

He eventually shut her up, leaning down to peck her lips softly, all nerves and panicked rambling dropped to just look up at him, in utter awe. Okay, maybe she can fall in love with him, she’s already halfway there with a month of letters.

Carefully, he guided her to their table with a hand on the small of her back as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and also he’d just kissed her to shut her up, and it worked.

“It’s fine, I love them, really. And Penelope was right, as your date I love the outfit.”

“Thank you, I love your sweater and-- ohmygod--”

As they sat down at the table, she buried her face into her hands, causing him to panic slightly, reaching out to carefully touch her shoulder. Saying her name worriedly as he set the flowers onto the table.

But she just looked up with a soft whine of embarrassment, peaking at him over her fingers.

“I called you my hot date to your face! That’s so embarrassing.”

Instantly relieved that it wasn’t anything he’d done, easing into a soft laugh and leaning back in his chair after squeezing her shoulder.

“It was cute! You didn’t even know who I was and you still called me hot.”

“It’s mortifying, you’ll never forget it and use it in your wedding vows or something.”

Sure, she was joking, but in the back of his head he filed something away for the future. A tiny, mental box, labelled ‘wedding vows’, wondering how long it would be until he could actually use that. 

Until then, he’d have to stick to ordering dinner on their first date.

Want more?! Good!

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[delirious-donna]

The Best Worst Father’s Day [Nanami Kento]

an: I wrote this in like 20 minutes because i was ‘inspired’. Kento deserves a fantastic Father’s Day but let’s be real… kids are not always willing to deliver

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: fluff, mention of a child, suggestive at the end, kids being assholes, tantrums (not just the kid), Kento being a fucking hero, breeding kink (if you squint)

It was Father’s Day and it also marked the day that your precious bundle of not-so-small joy decided that they were going to be a nightmare. All day.

The morning started out on the right foot, Kento snoozing peacefully with his sleep-soaked face pressed into the spill of your cleavage, a subtle drunk smile plastered to his face. Awoken by the telltale stomps of what your child affectionately tried to pass as tiptoes grew closer to your bedroom door, you blinked away the dregs of sleep just in time. A head peeked inside, drowsy and rubbing their eyes with a beloved teddy bear tucked under one arm like a newspaper.

You smiled and whispered a good morning before pressing your finger to your lips and pointing to their sleeping father. The answering giggle melted your heart as you heard them scamper downstairs, awaiting their breakfast and entertainment for the morning.

Lost in a kaleidoscope of rose-tinted memories that led to this moment, you combed softly through the blond locks of hair hanging low on his brow. Kento shifted, his eyebrows pinching and smoothing out until he rolled over and continued to sleep. He deserved it, he really did.

All those nighttime feedings, endless nappies changed, hours of reflux and windings that never seemed to yield results. The skinned knees and the tears. A million cups of tea at your bedside table before your bleary eyes even opened for the day. Car seats researched to the nth degree for safety reviews and practicality. First steps. Their first word, and of course it was ‘dada’.

The years had sped by at an alarming rate, feeling as those dark tortuous hours in the depths of winter were only yesterday. There had been far more good times than bad, and without Kento by your side the whole time, you weren’t sure how you would have managed. He might not be your Father, but you were determined his day would be one of the best.

However, that slice of idyllic tranquility would be the last, although you did not yet know it.

Whether the stars had misaligned or some demonic imp had decided today was the perfect day to toy with the emotions of a young child, you didn’t know. What you did know was that they were ‘on one’, and no amount of coaxing or reminders of whose special day it was would deter their rampant destruction.

Kento, diligent and steadfast as ever, refused to back away from the plate. He smiled through the gift giving which consisted of a beautiful handmade card by his darling angel, the very same darling angel who was kicking off because they couldn’t watch their favourite tv show right now. Aptly, the bottle of whisky could not have been a better choice, and he glanced surreptitiously at you with a knowing smile.

From there it went from bad to worse. Tantrums and tears, and not only from the hellspawn, ensued. Your sobs of “you’re meant to be relaxing today, not doing all of this” fell on deaf ears. No amount of cajoling or attempts by you were working, leaving Kento to swoop in like a hero just minus the cape and with the addition of a garish tie.

You watched from the kitchen door, enormous mug of tea in hand and a tissue dabbing your puffy eyes as Kento chased your child around the garden. The laughter broke your heart, but in that way that a happy ending in a movie also broke your heart.

There he was, the man infamously referred to as stoic and reserved, growling like a lion and throwing your little darling around to hollering whoops of laughter. If only they could see what you saw, if only they had known right from day one that behind the cool facade was a man that would do anything for his family—for his wife.

With energy levels finally depleted and the boss level of bath and bedtime tackled and won, you fell into his open arms. Your nose buried in the collar of his shirt, inhaling the spice from dinner on his skin and drinking in the warmth he exuded.

“I’m sorry, Kento,” you mumbled, lip wobbling from the stresses of the day. The anger that had sizzled in your veins only hours ago defused into a mass of misery.

“For what?”

“For the shitshow that was today! Don’t ‘for what’ me.”

Kento tilted your head up, his thumb beneath your chin and his lips upon yours in a soft rush that surprised you. The red wine from dinner melted onto your tongue, pushed deeper as he took and took, only to give back everything and more.

Finally, he pulled back with a contented hum. “Father’s Day is all well and good, but you gave me the best gift you ever could years ago… a baby that has grown into a wilful little mischief maker just like their mother.”

If you weren’t already emotional, you sure were now. Tears brimmed in your eyes only to be caught on the pads of his thumbs. Soft kisses decorated your cheeks and you grasped fistfuls of his shirt in earnest.

“Better stop talking like that, or I’ll give you another one, mister.”

“Mm, now that has made my day. I’ll give you to the count of ten to strip and kneel on the bed,” he breathed in your ear, biting the shell and playfully grabbing at your backside.

“One… two…”

[emphistic]

Blood in the Water

A/N: i know, i know. i said this chapter was gonna be the angst, but the wc was just too long. and i got carried away writing the smut. PS: this was not beta read

<- Series m.list

Sukuna wasn’t a morning-person; he never would be. Sukuna was a you-person, however. All the same, though, right?

Sukuna was like a plant.

To Sukuna, you were the sun. To others, that sounds absurd. But, people could think what they think and say what they say, and Sukuna would continue loving you anyway.

It sounds cheesy, yes, but you lit up Ryomen Sukuna’s life, with your smile, the sound of your voice, the melody of your laugh, everything. If he really thought about it, he would be totally unsure of how he survived for so long before he met you.

Sukuna was like a plant. (A/N: a poisonous one, if that were true)

Now, if you don’t pay attention during science class, here’s the gist of how Sukuna’s unconventional thinking came to his conclusion. 

All plants need sunlight, water, and air to live. They need all those ingredients to perform photosynthesis, make their food, and thus survive. (A/N: this is one of the only times Sukuna paid attention to your tutoring)

You completed Sukuna. You made him whole. You made him him.

Without you, Sukuna would wither away, whether you were the sun and him a plant or you two were your normal human selves. It didn’t matter, at all. Sukuna needed you like he needed air to breathe. Sukuna needed you like he needed water to drink. It didn’t matter, not at all. Any one of his metaphors would work. Whether you were the sun, water, air, Sukuna needed you. But he was just beginning to realize that, and maybe it was too late. Too late to turn back. Too late to forget about the bet. Too late to be afraid. Too late to have regrets.

“How long are you planning on staring at me for?” you asked. Though not having even opened your eyes yet, you felt Sukuna’s heavy gaze on you.

He did this often. After you two made it official, you started coming over more frequently. Before, you seldom stayed at his apartment for things unrelated to tutoring or just school in general.

Sukuna didn’t enjoy many things in life. Hell, he didn’t like many things in life. But he certainly liked this.

He liked staying up late and watching the silly, stupid movie that you decided to put on. He liked sitting around with you and sharing a large bowl of popcorn. He liked not having to bid you goodbye when the clock struck; it was very different from before — when either one of you would have to hang up the call. He liked settling into a non-empty bed; he used to never be able to fall asleep; then, when he met you, he fell asleep quickly and giddy; but now, he practically never shut his eyes, too busy admiring the most beautiful face he had ever and will ever see.

He liked it. He liked it all. So much so that,

He loved. He loved you.

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake, huh.” Sukuna gingerly pushed a strand of hair off your cheek, and tucked it behind your ear. His touches had been so gentle lately, as if he was worried that even one wrong move would result in an empty bed and a blocked number.

Sukuna wasn’t used to this kind of stuff. He never stayed in one place, and he certainly never stayed with one girl. Sukuna was scared. Scared of change, scared of changes, scared of losing, scared of losses. The bet, you, everything. He wasn’t going to let Naoya think he was a pussy; and, somehow, he also wasn’t going to let everything he worked hard for go to waste.

Because, if there was one thing he wasn’t going to lose, it was you. But, Sukuna was no more than a man. He was afraid. Thus, each morning, he could only gaze upon your face with such sentimentality, regret, longing, that even God would think about changing his fate.

Sukuna didn’t want you to go. He knew you would, though, probably as soon as you found out about the bet. But, nonetheless, there was a sense of hope that you would wait. Wait for him to explain, and say he tried to end the bet multiple times, though fruitlessly.

“I’ve been awake; I just didn’t say anything,” you grumbled, lifting your head up from the pillow beneath you. You would’ve liked to continue laying there under your boyfriend’s watchful gaze for a few more minutes or hours or days, but the Adult Life calls you.

“Yeah? You enjoy having my undivided attention?” Sukuna grinned, though you sensed a melancholic ring to his tone. The pink-haired man was never one to truly reveal his emotions and feelings, but over time, you did get a little better at reading him. You just wished he would stop bottling himself up like that.

“Don’t push it, babe.” You cupped his cheek, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before rolling out of bed to get ready for the day.

Sukuna laughed, “You’re not denying it!”

“Uh huh, doesn’t mean I’m confirming it, either.” You turned around, a cheeky expression plastered on your face, to which Sukuna snorted.

-

With your relationship only beginning more recently, people were, obviously, unaware of it. You were never one to flaunt around your partners or be that open about your personal life online on your social media or just in general. People knew you as the President of Student Council, someone who many could rely on for advice and help, someone who knew definite or at least rational answers to questions people inquired. 

You stood out as a role model to most students on campus. So, if anyone ever were to imagine you, they wouldn’t ever envision you on Sukuna’s arm walking around the mall or sleeping in his bed curled under layers and layers of blankets or watching TV on his couch with your head on his shoulder and his arm around you.

No, it was an impossible idea, one that never ran through anyone’s mind. And, to be honest, you didn’t mind. You liked the stillness and tranquility of being on the sidelines — figuratively or literally, it was true.

Sukuna’s life, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of yours. He was known for his charisma, charming smile, outstanding performance on the court; everyone on campus knew him, and either loved him or feared him, or both. His life was loud; that’s a fair way to describe it. Girls threw themselves on him all the time. He was invited to parties and after parties as if that was the only reason he attended college, for the fun, and for the thrill.

But, that didn’t mean you were unpopular. Yeah, your life may not have been as boisterous and eventful as your boyfriend’s, but your personality brought you your own fair share of fans, and possible suitors and beaus. 

That’s right, people liked you for other than your brains.

And unfortunately for you, Naoya Zen’in was one of those people. And that’s why when that blonde-haired fucker saw you in the crowds at one of Sukuna’s games, he knew this was his only opportunity. Naoya saw the way Sukuna looked at you nowadays; Naoya knew you had that man wrapped right around your finger; Naoya found Sukuna’s weak point and was going to use it against him.

The bet didn’t start because Naoya wanted to see Sukuna court the un-courtable. The bet started because Naoya Zen’in wanted to see the impossible. Which, Sukuna had previously assumed was him getting with you, his oh-so dear tutor. But no, Sukuna was wrong. The bet started because Naoya wanted to see the impossible: vulnerability from Ryomen Sukuna. And vulnerability, he got.

Sukuna managed to take you out on a date. Sukuna was able to make you his. There was blood in the water now, and it was clear who bled.

Naoya’s ploy was executed just like how he had planned; the puzzle was in the right place; he just needed one last piece before everything would come crashing down.

The last thing you expected after Sukuna won his basketball game was for him to face you from all the way in the court. No one knew of your relationship yet — or so you thought — and you didn’t take Sukuna to be one to put it out for the world to see. Not like you had a problem with that per se; people always knew the pink-haired man as someone who went from girl-to-girl and bed-to-bed, did Sukuna want others to know he had settled? For starters, it would definitely cause a whole lot of talk.

You wondered what he wanted when he wouldn’t take his eyes off of you, but when you saw his hand move in a way as if to gesture for you to come nearer, you were a little hesitant. On the other hand, Sukuna was anything but unsure. He stood there as the crowds hollered and yelled and bellowed, but he paid them no mind as he absentmindedly continued to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his jersey. Sukuna’s abdomen was bared as he did so, and the audience only became more wild.

Your chest tightened as you weighed your options.

When your relationship was solely tutor and student, you still came to watch his games, but only because it was your college that was playing, so it was expected for you to cheer for your peers.

Back then, you never met up after his inevitable victories, sometimes it was a short embrace like a hug or pat on the back, but that was it. Sukuna knew this, so when you hurriedly came down the bleachers, the last thing that he expected was for you to jump into his arms. He caught you, of course, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t stumble backwards a bit. Nevertheless, he wasn’t complaining. 

Behind closed doors, Sukuna was the main initiator for doing anything intimate. He didn’t mind your shyness, because, he had been pining for you for years — though he only realized recently, so why would he not be reveling with the woman of his dreams. Sukuna knew you loved your personal space, but he loved your personal space, too. And that’s why as soon as you lay down on the couch to catch the latest episode of your show, he’s laying his head right between your legs. And that’s why as soon as you try waking up early to surprise your boyfriend with breakfast in bed, he’s also jumping out from beneath the blankets to follow you like he’s your shadow.

Sukuna loved you, he thought to himself, as he leaned down to slot his lips against yours. But ‘love’ was a dangerous word, and what type of world would it be if nothing was at least a little dangerous?

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and returned the kiss as the sound of cheers and whistles from the crowds bled into the distance. It was just you and Sukuna. That’s all there was to it, and you liked that.

On your first date, and during your first kiss, you were obviously unfamiliar with the feeling of kissing Sukuna. It was new, but it was pleasant. This was a different feeling, a different type of kiss. For, you had gotten used to this experience, you spent many nights — most, even — familiarizing yourself with the feeling and sensation of Sukuna’s lips on yours, peppering your neck, trailing down your shoulder blades, almost everywhere.

Sukuna was soft, gentle, nice, until he wasn’t. Sukuna was mean, rough, teasing, because he knew you liked that. You two developed a guessing game; the rules were simple; you just had to guess when Sukuna would end his nice guy act. It was mostly only you playing, though. But for the instances when it wasn’t, Sukuna sometimes even surprised himself. It was like he was a whole different person when he was alone and around you. He didn’t need any phony drug, you alone were an aphrodisiac.

It's a shame, because you weren’t alone. When your eyes fluttered open, and your ecstasy gradually bled out, you noticed all players on the court — Sukuna’s team and opponents — were standing as still as statues. Some with their eyes blown wide in shock; some with their gazes averted and pointed at the ground in timidity.

“Damn, Sukuna, you beast. When you gonna kiss me like that after we win?”

Gojo, and most of the players on your boyfriend’s team, were already either highly suspicious of your relationship with one another or already knew the truth about it. The former because who the hell hangs out with their tutor so much off of school? And, the latter because as soon as Sukuna informed his younger brother about everything that went down, Yuuji could not keep his mouth shut.

You abruptly hastened to push away from Sukuna’s grasp upon hearing the teasing sound of none other than Gojo’s voice. How could I have done such a thing in front of so many people? you asked yourself, wanting no more than to combust right then and there. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at anyone in the face with the way your cheeks started reddening, coincidentally, like the color of the eyes belonging to the man whose arms continued to hold you unwaveringly.

Choosing to freeze in place — to keep your peace, you mentally slapped yourself in the face. You thought you were better than this.

On the other hand, Sukuna was far from embarrassed, and wasn’t planning on letting go any time soon. He placed a tender kiss on your cheek, slightly disappointed at you pulling away so early. Was merely kissing one’s girlfriend such a wrong act? After all, he hadn’t seen you all day after dropping you off at a Student Council meeting or some other shit; he missed you, to say the least.

“In your dreams, dumbass,” Sukuna spat out, sending a glare in his teammate’s way, to which Gojo only responded with the raising of both his hands as if in a defensive manner.

Sukuna had his arm around your shoulder whilst you two walked through the hallway on your way out to the parking lot. It brought you a sense of comfort, and ease. Both from Sukuna alone and also his arm around you. He had just got out of a quick shower, changed out of his sweaty and grimy jersey, and was now planning on spending the rest of his evening with you.

The air was cool, the wind light, and there was a noticeable and welcomed absence of boisterous crowds and players, there was neither noise nor sound, save for the pitter patter of your footsteps upon the tiled floor. Well, that is, until someone else decided to show up.

“We should celebrate your win, babe; do you want to eat out? Or I could make that dish that you liked? Or, or, we could order?”

Sukuna hummed, “Whatever you want, baby.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face your boyfriend, who raised an eyebrow, curious. “That’s, like, the only thing you have to say, nowadays. It’s your win, not mine, I can’t choose how we celebrate it.”

“But that’s the thing; you can.” Sukuna couldn’t care less about the food you two ate, where you ate it, or how much the bill would charge. If you wanted something, you would get it. Sukuna made sure of that much.

You crossed your arms, giving him a stern look.

“Alright, alright,” Sukuna pulled you back into his side — already desperate for that fluttering feeling you gave him whenever you two came in contact. “I fold. We can go try out that new seafood place that just opened down the street; I’ve been meaning to try their lobster—”

“That sounds good; do they have any grog?”

You almost jumped at the unfamiliar voice of, actually, who was that? You hesitantly turned around to get a good look at the culprit of your near heart attack. Blonde hair? Sorta tall. Lean build. Was he on Sukuna’s basketball team? Never mind that, had he been following you both? How long has he been listening in to your conversation?

“Naoya,” Sukuna snarled. “What the hell are you doing here?” If looks could kill, Naoya — whom you’ve just remembered as the guy who asked you to tutor him —would be six feet under, right now.

“Oh, you know. I’m just a little bored, that’s all. Anyway, I’m guessing that place doesn’t have any alcohol, after all?”

Sukuna deadpanned, and Naoya should’ve taken that as his cue to leave right then and there, but he didn’t. Besides, you were right there. Sukuna wouldn’t get all fired up in front of his girl just because of some small nuisance, right?

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, but y’know what, that won’t be a problem! I’m hosting an after party back at my place, and there’ll definitely be drinks there. ‘Sides, we should all let loose after that long game; you were MVP, after all. You should be there.” Naoya playfully gave a weak punch to Sukuna’s chest. 

It almost looked like they were friends for a second, before Sukuna rolled his eyes, wanting to take his leave already. He was tired of listening to the blond’s obnoxious voice; it gave him a headache. “Yeah, it won’t be a problem because we weren’t planning on drinking all night, anyway.”

You put a coaxing hand on Sukuna’s arm. Ever since you two started hanging out, Sukuna stopped going to after parties, and just parties altogether. And, although he always reassured you, saying, “They’re boring, trust me,” you still didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on fun.

“I don’t think it could be that bad; you should go, Sukuna. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Naoya was surprised to see you unintentionally side with him, but he used that to his advantage, “Not that I have experience, but, I think you should listen to the lady, capt’n. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.” The blond shrugged.

It didn’t take long for you and Sukuna to head over to the (as Sukuna called him) punk’s house, and, to say the least, it was totally not what you expected, like, at all. You had already known that the Zen’ins — as they had a big name around the area — were rich, crazy rich, if you will, but it’s always still a surprise to see big houses, right? Not to mention, there was a whole ass gate, too, not like it would be protecting anything, anyway, as it was wide open. Probably to be more accommodating for the entering guests.

The booming music could be heard even from your parking spot outside, and the volume only increased as you entered the lavish abode. You were starting to question if this was a bad idea, after all. However, when you spotted a couple of your friends, and they pulled you aside to play some beer pong or something — you weren’t really paying attention, most of your misgivings diminished. 

“You look so good, babe! C’mon, let me show you where the best drinks are,” Nobara said, pulling you away as soon as she spotted you amidst the people entering and leaving.

Albeit, you were a little saddened at having to leave Sukuna.

Speaking of which, he, on the other hand, was not holding up as much as you. He was immediately dragged off by Gojo to the kitchen, and was offered a solo cup filled up with a liquid which bubbled. It was a shade of greenish-blue and probably tasted as disgusting as it looked.

“You gotta try it, dude. I spent hours mixing all of these drinks together. Man, I probably deserve a medal for doing this. Just look at how much alcohol Naoya has. Damn.” Gojo pointed to the countless bottles in the countless cupboards; there was so much booze that it took up a whole room. This was definitely a little much, even for an alcoholic. And that should say a lot.

Fortunately, the both of you weren’t separated for too long. A game of Seven Minutes in Heaven was started up by a bunch of already clearly tipsy people, and your friends were not going to let you pass up on the opportunity. Apparently, and according to one of them, “You look too hot to not get laid tonight, girl. Don’t be so boring.”

A couple of your complaints and protests went unnoticed, so you reluctantly sat down in the circle of college kids and random people whom you weren’t even sure if they went to Jujutsu Tech. An empty bottle was placed in the middle of the carpeted floor, and as a brunette girl moved to spin it, an assertive voice stopped her.

“Yo! Got any room for three more?” Gojo flashed a smile which showed his pearly whites and almost blinded you and everyone else in the room, but nevertheless, several girls backed up to make room for him, a long-haired man trailing behind with an unamused expression, and Sukuna, who held an indifferent look on his face.

It was almost comical to see the speed at which the ends of Sukuna’s lips quirked up once he saw you amongst his peers, and the speed at which his smile flipped upside down when he noticed there was no room by you and he had to sit next to his white-haired teammate instead. 

Sukuna quickly mouthed to you, Help me, before turning back to face the bottle which was already beginning to spin.

You counted the minutes you had left of your life as more and more people entered the small closet down the hall of Naoya’s house, and either returned with smug expressions on their face or bored looks. Some people were forced to pair up with those they were infatuated with but couldn’t actually ask them out and needed just a little push to do so, while some were forced to go with people that they totally hated. 

You felt bad for the latter, but then again, no one had to actually go in the closet if they didn’t want to. They could choose to skip and keep playing. That’s what you planned on doing—

“Hey, guys! Madame President hasn’t had a turn yet; we can’t let her miss out on all the fun, right, everybody?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

A couple of Yeah’s and agreeing comments filled the living space, and you wanted to dig a hole in the ground and just die. But nonetheless, you didn’t want to seem like a chicken, so you begrudgingly crawled from your previous spot on the ground to the center of the room and spun the bottle.

The bottle went so slow, so slow. To the point it was agonizing to watch as your fate was sealed. You blinked, licked your lips, swallowed the lump in your throat; God, when was this going to be over?

The bottle neared its stop as it unhurriedly passed by Naoya, fuck, the long-haired dude you saw earlier, could be better, Gojo, could it get any worse, until it finally came to a halt at . . . Sukuna, who remained emotionless except for an unexplainable glint which flashed in his eyes. Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

Gojo let out a holler at the truly unexpected event, and most people followed. “Was this magic?” someone even asked; many others said similar things.

Though your nerves did go down a bit, they came back worse than before once you were actually in the dimly lit closet. Sukuna closed and made sure to lock the door behind him, before turning to face you with an unreadable look on his face.

“So—”

“I—”

You both spoke up at the same time, but you let Sukuna go ahead first. For, you didn’t even know what you were going to say if you did otherwise; you just wanted to break the awkward silence.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to; I’m not some monster. And,” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck, “I know all those idiots out there expect us to make out and have sex — since we’re dating and whatnot, but fuck whatever they’re thinking, okay?”

“Sukuna, I—it’s okay. I do want this, with you, and no one else.”

You hoped Sukuna would get the hint, as you two had come close to this moment multiple times, yet never actually indulged in it. The both of you being in close proximity always brought a lot of tension. Sukuna could never keep his hands off of you; playful touches frequently turned to ones filled with a different desire. You reminded yourself to take things slow, and just go with the flow, since you two had only started dating recently. But, needless to say, it was hard to restrain yourself from jumping his bones, and sleeping over at his apartment more often definitely did not help you one bit.

“Oh yeah? It might be a little too late for you to change your mind later on, though,” Sukuna murmured, drawing nearer and nearer until he had you backed up against the wall. 

“I won’t be able to help myself, and neither will you. Can you blame me, though, when I’ve got an absolute work of art standing right in front of me?” He tipped your chin upward with a single index finger, while his other hand trailed up your side.

You knew what was coming, as you closed your eyes the second Sukuna gingerly connected his lips with yours. It was tender at first; Sukuna wanted to savor the taste, smell, feel, of you. He had been craving this for God knows how long. And you knew he wasn’t planning on letting you go when Sukuna gripped you by the jaw as his other hand rested on your hip.

Sukuna tasted of the chapstick you had recently bought him, and his unruly hair was soft beneath your fingertips — as always. You both moved in sync, like your lips were molded just for each other. And, they probably were. If not, that would be a shame, since Sukuna wasn’t planning on kissing anyone else but you. He was already in too deep; nothing was going to coerce him.

Sukuna only — though resentfully — pulled away when you tapped him twice on the shoulder, indicating you needed to breathe.

“Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting, dying, for this,” Sukuna groaned, burying his nose into the crook of your neck. “That white-haired dipshit is the bane of my existence, y’know. Can’t fucking stand him, not when he’s in the way of getting to my girl, not when he’s doing stupid stuff simply because he’s stupid, not when he’s being careless at important games, never.”

It was amusing, the way Ryomen “King of the Court” Sukuna was so wrapped around your finger. He was crazy for you; you made him crazy.

“Damn, you’re really driving me nuts, huh. Can’t even think without you clogging up my head. What are you, a witch or something?” You felt Sukuna’s grin widen as he laughed aloud.

You pouted, your bottom lip jutting out as you threaded your fingers through Sukuna’s pink hair. “Hmph, don’t be mean. Seriously. What’s your problem?”

“Haven’t I made it obvious enough? ‘Sides, aren’t you supposed to be, like, smart and whatnot?”

“. . .”

Sukuna raised his head from your neck to look at you, curious after your silence. “Aww, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. You know I was just joking.”

When you wouldn’t even look him in the eye — not because you were genuinely upset, no, you just wanted to test the waters, Sukuna exhaled and dipped his head so his face was only mere inches away from yours. Your noses nearly touching.

“C’mon, don’t be mad at me. Hell, I should be the one who’s mad. After all, I’ve become a mad man because of you. Fuck, never leaving my mind, running through my head twenty-four seven, because of you. You, baby, you’re my problem. I’m a deranged mess . . . all for you. You, you, you.

“Shit, look at me, damnit,” Sukuna grasped your chin, forcing your face upward to meet his eyes. 

He wasn’t wrong when he said he was a mess; he was a hot mess. Because of you, All for you, you mulled over Sukuna’s words. You liked this side of him, you had to admit. You loved this side of him, you decided, as you cupped his cheek, bringing him in for another kiss. This time, more zealous, and impossibly more fervent.

It would be a lie to say Sukuna wasn’t surprised, because he was utterly amazed. The pink-haired man wasted no time in letting his hands roam up and down your waist as he pressed himself against you, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. 

“Mmph, Sukuna—please,” you whimpered, your words barely intelligible as Sukuna’s tongue explored your mouth. 

Sukuna felt overwhelmed by the feeling of you; it was almost as if he was being drugged — he wouldn’t be surprised if it was just the taste of you that did it for him, though. 

Sukuna didn’t care anymore, he had already thrown away any thought about anyone else outside that damned closet door immediately after you spared him that one look of yours. The one that made him question why he ever kissed other girls, why he ever dated anyone before you, why he didn’t do this earlier. The one which made him — despite his large stature — nearly fall onto his knees and kiss the ground upon which you walked.

“You fuckin’ minx, use those words of yours. ‘Please’ what, huh? Tell me, and I’ll do it,” he mumbled, between placing hot, sloppy, ephemeral kisses on your lips.

“I—ngh—need you, need you so bad, ‘Kuna.” Your knees buckled, and you would’ve fallen if you weren’t held up by Sukuna’s bruising grip on your hips.

“Fuck.”

Every ounce of self-restraint and control that Sukuna had left in his body dissipated at the sound of those three words. Something snapped in the pink-haired man right then and there, and you knew — after seeing that feral, crazed look in his darkening eyes — that you would hardly make it out of here the same person you were before.

Sukuna wasted no time in slipping his hands under that flimsy, dainty dress of yours, memorizing every curve and aspect of your body. And, unbeknownst to you, a strap of your dress had slowly slid down your shoulder as your hands found purchase on Sukuna’s chest and bicep. Your boyfriend was quickly made aware of this when he caught sight of more cleavage than he had hoped after the front of your dress dipped forward.

“You’re such a tease,” you whined, at the unexpected feeling of Sukuna licking a stripe up your throat; heat rushed to your face as you grew more squirmish.

“Don’t move so much; maybe then I’ll be a little nicer.” Sukuna cursed under his breath as he planted searing hot kisses upon your shoulder, across your collarbone, trailing down your chest in his path.

His cock twitched under the confines of his pants at the sight of your finally freed tits; he nearly ate you whole when he found you weren’t even wearing a bra. His hand grew nearer and nearer to the swell of your breast as he latched on with his mouth to the other one.

Your back arched off the wall, bringing you even closer to Sukuna’s unforgiving touches as he fondled one breast and nipped and sucked at the other, never once giving either of your tits an unequal amount of attention.

Sukuna’s knee pressed between your legs, right where you needed him most, and you had to cover your mouth to stifle the almost pornographic sounding moan that was elicited consequently. You couldn’t help it; you hadn’t been very out in the open in a long time, no, not ever since Sukuna came into the picture.

“Sensitive, are we? Heh,” Sukuna grinned, pulling away from your chest to admire his handiwork. Your lips were swollen, bruised from his endless biting, kissing, sucking, and your tits and chest were blooming with developing marks — or love bites, as Sukuna called them, when you reprimanded him later on.

Everyone outside the closet, down the hall, knew what you two were doing. You knew this was probably wrong for a president to do; you were supposed to set a good example for others to follow. Yet, nothing had ever felt so right.

The metal of Sukuna’s rings were cold against your thighs as he carelessly pushed your soaked panties to the side. You bit your lip, containing your whimpers as his fingers brushed against your clit.

“What’s wrong, hm? Be a good girl f’me and let me hear those pretty sounds of yours,” Sukuna’s lips ghosted the shell of your ear as he spoke so casually.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes squeezed shut and your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks up and down Sukuna’s arms when he first slipped a single digit inside.

Soon that one turned into two, and you were tightening around his fingers as you felt a knot build up in your stomach. Sukuna quickened the pace, curling his fingers inside of you.

Noticing the way your body tensed, Sukuna couldn’t help but feel bad. Cooing, he murmured, “That’s right. Just let go. Mhm, there you go; you’ve got it.”

You were hot all over; the throbbing in your core intensifying even after you came all over his hand.

Peaking an eye open after hearing a belt unbuckle, you let out an audible gasp at the sight of Sukuna’s stiff cock; the reddened tip leaking precum uncontrollably. 

“Sukuna, I—I don’t think that’s going to fit.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Sukuna swiftly turned you around so your back was flush against his chest. You gulped, planting your palms against the closet wall.

Sukuna had you babbling nonsense as soon as he entered you. It was a surprise you even got this far without calling it quits, Sukuna was surprised, to say the least. “F-fuck, you’re too big, ‘Kunaa.”

It was overwhelming, the stretch. You could practically feel him in your guts. But it was crystal clear things were only going to get harder. You knew Sukuna wasn’t a kind man. You knew he wasn’t neither soft nor careful. However, Sukuna was a person who knew how to mix pain and pleasure just right. 

After your walls molded to fit him, his pace was unforgiving, hips snapping against yours with an inimitable speed. A particularly hard thrust had you crying out, clawing at the walls looking for purchase, to no avail.

Sukuna’s hands groped and squeezed at your breasts, even going as far as pinching a nipple, eliciting a loud whimper from your lips.

“‘tis too much, too much, ‘Kuna, I can’t,” you mewled.

In an attempt to soothe you, Sukuna lathered the skin of your shoulders in endless amounts of kisses, while one of his hands trailed down your torso.

“Hahh, you’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Sukuna’s breathing was heavy, and warm as it hit your skin. “Every time I saw you with one of those degenerates you called boyfriends, I nearly lost it. Since high school, too, y’know, ngh, I always wondered if they made you feel as good as I could, if you gave me a chance. But no, I told myself it was better to wait. And, whaddya know, I was right.”

Sukuna rubbed your clit with his thumb, in efforts to get you even louder than you already were. He wanted to get you on the edge, push you past your limits, see you out of your mind on his cock. Your non-stop whining rung in his ears, and he groaned at the feeling of your walls fluttering. The coil in your stomach tightened ever so slightly, and Sukuna just knew you were close when you started panting his name like a prayer.

“I’m a mad man for you, baby. I would kill for you, walk across earth and back, worship you like the goddess you are. So, hah, tell me I'm not crazy. Tell me I’m not the only one. Hell, you feel it, too, don’t you. Fuck, I—God, you seriously have no idea how much I love you. How much I love, ngh, this, and everything about us. Not a clue, huh.” 

It’s safe to say you were beyond overstimulated, your brain already turned to mush, when your orgasm came crashing down on you — Sukuna’s following soon after — leaving your legs shaking and a mess drying between your thighs.

With a final groan from Sukuna, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and snaked his arms around your waist. To be honest, it felt like you were the one holding Sukuna up, when it should be the other way around. Considering your current physical condition, and the ratio between your and your boyfriend’s stature.

Sukuna let you ride out your orgasm, while he breathed in your scent.

Sukuna didn’t find laughter in many situations, but when he saw your flushed face, eyes squeezed shut in bliss, mascara running down your cheeks, he couldn’t help but let a small grin slip out.

You were too lost in the moment to even hear Sukuna say those three words which you longed to hear ever since you two got together. But, it didn’t matter, Sukuna thought. He planned on saying them much more often later, anyway.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lordbrainsnatcherr @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura @xiraxdl @sterzin @catobsessedlady @alwaysfreakingout @uhnanix @ssetsuka @wrldtups @lovra974 @rzcnlb @piercddprincess @satoru2716

[ilyrafe]

𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

A - affection (how do they show affection)

rafe isn’t the most affectionate person in the world, but when he feels comfortable and safe enough, he makes a point of showing you how dear you are by giving you expensive gifts and unique experiences like a weekend on a yacht, away from everything and everyone, or a dinner at an expensive restaurant in new york city, with ward’s private jet. he spares no effort to show you that he can take care of you as he thinks you deserve. he’s also not very good with words, but rafe is an extremely transparent person, so his face says it all. his eyes always soften when he’s looking at you, and that says more than any diamond necklace or any declaration of love.

B - balance (how do they balance you, work/school/life?)

maybe rafe is a bit of a workaholic, money and power are very important things to him, but he goes out of his way to try and fit you into his life. he doesn’t always succeed, but he tries.

C - cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling? what positions?)

he’s not used to being cuddled, so naturally he doesn't do it to anyone. most of the time, you are the one who initiates the gesture, and it takes a long time for him to reciprocate and not feel awkward. whenever rafe is anxious, you cuddle him until you feel him calming down, and your cuddles are healing. they help immensely. he had never felt so loved and safe. you two normally stay quiet, just wanting the comfort of one another after a hard day, but sometimes, he’ll ask you stuff here and there.

D - date (what was your first date?)

after a few weeks of just pretending that neither of you had any serious feelings for the other, rafe invited you to dinner and you accepted. he was relaxed, in a good mood and even made jokes that made you laugh and throw your head back. he didn’t seem to be the same rafe who walked around with kelce and topper with an air of superiority. he was funny, smart, cute and perhaps the most interesting person you’ve met.

E - excited (how excited do they get when they see you/are with you?)

your presence calms him enough for him to organize his thoughts. it doesn’t mean he’s going to vent to you, but your presence makes you feel at ease. he loves seeing you, especially after long periods of time, when he needs to travel for work and you can’t go. he’ll make sure he’ll make up for the time he was away.

F - fighting (what happens when you fight)

your first fight was a big fight, which made rafe understand that you’re not as submissive as he would like, because you’re not afraid of him and you hit him head on with the same tone he uses when he’s angry. in the first fight, rafe just took out all his frustrations on you, which made you mad. this fight almost ended the relationship, because you already had some unpleasant things about him that were stuck in your throat and everything ended up exploding, but after a long conversation, you got it together and now rafe thinks five times before thinking of taking out his problems on you.

G - gorgeous (pet names. what do they like to call you? what do they like to be called?)

rafe is quite simple, he calls you “babe” or “baby”. he rarely calls you by your name.

H - hi (first time meeting)

you met at a party he was throwing at tanny hill, as a friend of his took you. you apologized for crashing the party, but rafe thought you were adorable and obviously gorgeous. you praised the mansion and said you were having fun, and he promptly said you could come over whenever you wanted, but he didn’t say it with a sexual connotation, but rather a friendly one. he offered to show you other parts of the house and that certainly attracted some looks.

I - intimacy (how romantic they are)

rafe hasn’t had many romantic experiences in his life, he was never attracted to the idea of ​​dating until he met you, so he found himself searching the internet for “romantic gestures”, “how to impress a woman” and things like that. he wanted to do everything right, he wanted you to see that he was taking you seriously. he likes to take you to dinners, he gets you flowers and expensive gifts.

J - jealousy (do they get jealous?)

both of you get jealous of each other, actually. he doesn’t like to see you talking to other boys, except kelce and topper, but you don’t stop having male friends because of that, after all, you don’t stop him from having female friends either (if he wants to). you tend to feel jealous when you see him getting along with an ex girlfriend or even a former hookup.

K - kisses (where do they like to kiss you/how often?)

in public, rafe gives you quick kisses here and there, sometimes on your hand, but mostly on your lips. in private, he’s quite passionate and loves to kiss your neck and collarbones. he also kisses your forehead a lot, especially when you’re asleep! when you spend time apart for whatever reason, his kisses are urgent (which you absolutely live for).

L - love (when was the first time they said i love you or realized it?)

rafe realized he was in love with you when you spent a whole night comforting him after a terrible fight with ward and sarah. you did everything. you held him, you let him cry, you let him vent and you never let go of him. he never felt so loved in his life before, no one never really heard him before. you were so caring and understanding, never interrupting him.

M - moving in (when do you decide to move in together)

after a few years of relationship, rafe proposes that you move in together, after all, you are already adults and you know that you will be “together forever”. you don’t think twice. you spend more time with him than in your own home anyways.

N - newborn (their reaction to starting a family)

the thought of being a dad worries him a lot, actually. he doesn’t want his children to turn out like he (or sarah) did, he doesn’t want to repeat ward’s mistakes. he wants to do everything right. when the topic arises, he begins to read about parenthood, how to raise kids and all that stuff, which makes you certain that if you’re gonna have kids, they’re gonna be his.

O - open (how open you are with one another)

at first, he’s not open with you at all, but you can tell it’s a defense mechanism. when you and rafe start getting to know each other more and become more than friends, he begins to feel more comfortable with talking to you about himself and his life. he tends to talk more at night, before falling asleep. you’ve noticed rafe doesn’t like to keep secrets, he needs to let it out so he tells you a lot of things, some stuff being really random. you also feel the same and begin to tell him about yourself and it’s nice to hear that he can relate to you in something.

P - photos (what kind of photos you take of them/they take of you)

rafe likes photography and is quite good at it! he prefers to take the picture rather than being photographed, but you manage to sneak in a picture or two of his when he’s asleep or not looking. he has a lot of polaroids of you, but also on his phone.

Q - quirks (what random habits do you have that they love or hate/vice versa)

rafe is very messy. it seems that he’s physically unable to put an object back to its designated place. his room is always messy and he knows it. there are several plastic water bottles scattered around his bedroom and he doesn’t care to throw them away.

R - recovery (how you help them after an injury/vice versa)

rafe doesn’t like when you see him injured just because he doesn’t want you to be afraid of him, but he always lets you help him with his wounds. he knows you hate when he’s in a fight. he apologizes and says he’ll do better, but every once in a while you’ll get a text alerting you about another fight that he’s involved in.

S - solution (how they resolve fights)

when you are wrong, you apologize. rafe, however, has trouble recognizing when he’s wrong, and tends to blame others for his mistakes, but you never let him get away with it. he just hates when you tell him “rafe, you’re in the wrong, period. apologize and fix it.”, but deep down he does appreciate that you never buy his bullshit and puts him in his place. after everything is said and done, you both have a calm conversation and rafe does apologize more heartfeltly.

T - touch (when they need/want your touch, what will they do? how often?)

normally after a fight with ward, a long day at work or when he’s anxious, rafe wants nothing more than to be with you in his bedroom and hold you till it all goes away and he can breathe again. you don’t even need to touch him, the feel of you in his arms is enough. you play with his hair, you trace his back with your nails or you play with his hand, to let him know you’re there and you’re not going anywhere.

U - up (waking up with them)

waking up with rafe is the best. he has his arms around you every single time. if you’re still asleep, he just kisses your shoulder or forehead, trying to wake up a bit more before getting up and starting the day. if you’re up before him, you play with his hair and stroke his soft skin. he usually has this hard exterior, so sleeping is the rare chance you get to see him be calm.

V - vacation (where they travel with you)

you encourage rafe to visit other countries, discover new cultures and foods, and it’s always fun to travel with him because he values ​​comfort and lets you take control of the trip. while you like to explore the place by foot, he’s offering to call an uber and “get there faster!”.

W - wedding (how they propose/where you get married/honeymoon)

on a random day, rafe asked if you ever thought about getting married, and you said yes. then he asked if you would marry him one day, and you said yes. he took a small black velvet box from his pocket, opened it, showing a beautiful ring. the wedding took place just a few months later, and it was a small ceremony, with just a few family members and closest friends. rafe was radiant, and on your honeymoon, you went to greece.

X - x factor (what about you captivated them?)

your self-confidence. you don’t accept insults from anyone, least of all from him. he feels a little jealous of your confidence, because deep down he doesn’t have any. your greatest strength is your kindness and understanding.

Y - yawning (how they act when they’re tired)

like a child, rafe doesn’t really admit when he’s tired. he fights his sleep until he really can’t anymore. when he’s tired, he gets cranky and stubborn just like a toddler. he knows he’s tired, but for some reason he won’t just go to bed and fall asleep.

Z - zzz (how you fall asleep together)

before you, rafe liked his space, but when you both started sharing a bed, rafe couldn’t sleep by himself anymore. he needed to be holding you, smelling you. having you next to him is the only thing he really wants. he has begged you to stay the night just so he can sleep better and you always say yes.

[selarina]

-> Satoru Gojo/Reader (ft. Suguru Getou)

Summary: Getou Suguru finds himself living not only with his roommate Gojo Satoru, but also with his girlfriend.

Tags: love triangle, jealousy, unrequited love, light sexual content (implied/referenced), fluff, unresolved sexual tension, emotional distress, mention of reader having periods, mentions of infidelity, themes of polyamory, alcohol consumption, mild language, third person pov, eventual smut

Word Count: 4.2k words

Author's Note: i wrote this before challengers came out i swear

Read on AO3

You waddle in, hair mussed and eyes bleary, absently rubbing at them like a child.

“Morning,” Getou says, with a smile.

“Morning,” you reply, punctuating it with a yawn.

You’re swathed in a dim blue corduroy shirt that fits loosely around your figure. Your shorts lay hidden right under the shirt, extending merely a few centimeters from where the hem of the shirt ends. 

Getou doesn’t mean to stare, but it stands out — there’s a soft crimson hue that’s sitting right below the end of your shorts, and at the center of which is a pretty bite mark.

Getou stares at the mark a bit longer than he could feel normal about but he relents — as one does. He pours out a cup of juice for you. A routine. A loose routine. Some days it’s juice, other days it’s toast. Some days it’s fruit. 

“Thank you, Getou,” you smile at him as you always do. 

He likes your company at his house. At first, he admittedly didn’t, you woke up at ungodly hours, you often scared him when he returned from work, and you left your coat around on the sofa instead of the coat hanger. But all that’s changed now. Now you seem to waltz with the very air that sits in his house, making space for yourself, like a drawer for your clothes and a coaster for your mug. It works.

Almost like you’re all just in a well-timed play, Satoru walks in. And he’s wearing one of his many gray sweatpants.

Suguru doesn’t linger on his presence having witnessed him come out of the same room in so many different forms over the years. It’s routine now, he doesn’t have to bat an eye at him to know he’s walked in, but he does look, allowing himself the indulgence — his eyes lingering on a red hue around his neck, another pretty bite mark, mirroring the one of your thigh.

Today Satoru seems to be a touch weary in his movement. Getou could tell it’s just one of those mornings when he would get a bit extra grumpy. A fleeting state that would soon pass after a stomach full of breakfast.

Satoru moves, standing behind you, hands encircling you in a hug as he buries his face in your back.

“Morning, Suguru,” Satoru’s voice emerged, muffled against your back.

“Good morning, Satoru,” Getou answers, as he promptly places a third cup of juice for Satoru, with the same practiced grace he extended to you.

“Morning baby,” he murmured. He comes up to leave a soft peck on your cheek, and he says it hushed like it’s only meant for you to hear. 

“I know I’m preaching to the choir,” Getou starts. He hopes the annoyance is permeating onto his face, hoping his disquiet reaches you both. “But these walls — they’re thin, you know?”

“Oh? I’m sorry, Getou! We’ll be sure to moan in whispers,” Satoru quickly retorts, as he punctuates that sentence with a wry grin. 

His face seemed perfectly punchable to Getou in this moment — what with his toothpaste ad-worthy grin. He stared, a poker face as he thinks he’s never seen a look as inviting and off-putting as Gojo Satoru’s.

You cinch your brows in annoyance but Getou notices one side of your mouth curving itself into a half-smile. You’ve always been good at this, your face is neither restrained nor fully disclosed. He frowns. 

You turn to hit Satoru lightly on his shoulders, Satoru even turns so you can reach more easily. “Stop!” you giggle as you turn to look at Getou. “Getou, please forgive his audacity. We’ll be quiet next time. I promise.” 

Your face tries to maintain a sincere smile but it’s never sincere enough to stop you from moaning your way to sleep. 

A sigh escapes Getou, a sigh borne of a quiet acceptance as he sets out three plates on the table.

—

Getou sits, hunched over his desk, the lamp casting a pool of jaundiced light onto the scattered papers, he’s nearly halfway through his report. Half an hour more, he thinks, and the whole thing will be done. If he focuses as he has been for the past hour, that is. But of course, as though he is cursed to partake in a comedic play — no, tragic play — he hears the muted whimpers from across the fragile wall that separates him from the two of you. 

He knows the script by heart now. It is only time before it gets louder and louder and louder before he has to blast music on an alarmingly high level to drown it all out.

And he’s not sure what makes him break this time, maybe it’s the report, maybe it’s the lack of good sleep from the previous night but he bangs against the wall.

Once. Bam!

Two. Bam!

Three. Bam!

Three bangs, and the sounds immediately cease to a stop. 

“I have a report to finish,” he announces into the stillness, his voice loud, to ensure it penetrates through the wall.

The silence stretches on. Satisfied, Getou returns to his report.

—

He comes out, his eyes are tired as he thinks about what to make for dinner tonight. 

“Hey Suguru,” you say from your place over on the couch, it pulls him only slightly back to the present.

“Hey,” he returns, his hands barely hanging onto his shoulders as he redoes his hair into a quick bun. He witnesses the aftermath in the half-reflection of a glass cupboard. He can barely see himself, barely a silhouette of a man, he thinks. 

“What do you guys want tonight?” he asks, peering into the fridge, surveying the contents with a hollow gaze.

Satoru rises from his cozy place in between your legs, marching over to grab Getou away from the fridge. Getou would be baffled if he wasn’t so tired and numb from finishing up the report.

“There’s no need for that. We figured you’re tired and want to rip our heads off at this point so we could never make you cook for us in this state,” Satoru pats his shoulders, gripping it a bit more tightly now as he guides him to take a seat on the couch.

Getou barely notices an assortment of different sushi alongside an already corked open bottle of red wine that seemed to magically materialize before his eyes.

He simply stares, wanting Gojo to just explain, he’s too tired to ask, too tired to truly care enough to not give in.

“Dinner’s on us tonight,” Satoru grins, the same familiar toothpaste ad-worthy grin that grows less and less annoying by the day. 

Getou would groan out loud if he had the energy for it.

“More like Sushi and Sticks, but yes, on us tonight,” you add, pouring wine into a third glass and handing it to Getou.

He takes it, muttering, “There’s no need for all this.”

“Of course there is. Just eat, Suguru.” Satoru plops sushi into his mouth as he speaks.

Your face twinges in annoyance. “Don’t talk while eating." You turn back to Suguru now, as your face shifts into a smile. "And besides, Suguru — I’m more worried about you poisoning our dinner tonight.”

Suguru manages to chuckle at that, mostly at the crooked way your lips are smirking, white tooth shining in between.

He takes a sip from the glass. He doesn’t usually like red wine but he couldn’t care less tonight, he’ll indulge and leave all the head-banging to his tomorrow self.  

—

The next morning, Suguru finds himself sprawled on the floor, his head pulsing with an unforgiving ache, echoing over and over against the confines of his skull. He decides he needs to clean the living room, having remembered not cleaning up after last night but he seems ensnared by a weight holding his arm down. 

He turns, his chin pressing into his chest as he tries to look without moving and — it’s you, nestled against his arm mirroring the same tenderness one would show a comforting plush companion. 

Satoru clings to you, in a similar manner, only he’s nestled against your stomach, instead of your arm.

Suguru very very carefully disattaches himself from the two of you, as he stands trying to shake off the drowsiness and the throbbing headache. He must have fallen asleep on the couch after dinner. How he ended up sprawled against Satoru and you is a question that remains unanswered and honestly, he doesn’t really want to know why, he decides.  

He swivels his head across the room and notices how the living room is clean — pristinely so, and the remnants of the sushi and wine are all tidied away into a box, and a closed bottle. He smiles, as he walks into his room. He’ll take a hot shower this morning.

—

“Hey, thank you for doing this with me Getou,” you say, as you roll up your sleeve.

“Anytime,” he says, following to mirror your actions. “Why didn’t you ask Satoru?” he asks, he's been nursing this question since you first invited him to join you.

“Well, I’ve been here with him. He hates the texture of clay, and I have been coming over here on my own but you know,” you continue, “if you like it, I’d love for this to be a regular thing between us,” you say with a smile, and something flops itself in his ribs, and suddenly he feels like he wants to leave.

“And Satoru is fine with this?" he prods.

"Fine with what?" you counter, your tone innocent, though a faint note of mischief lingers beneath the surface.

“You going to a couple’s clay therapy with… well, not him,” he says.

"Yeah," you affirm, your voice soft and reassuring. "He's fine with it. I know he whines like a baby, but he’s surprisingly mature with things like this, you know.” 

“Right,” he says plainly.

"Besides," you add, your hand gently squeezing him, “It's just you, Suguru." 

But he doesn’t feel reassured at all, he’s a bit upset Satoru doesn’t care because it’s just him, just Suguru. He’s his best friend so, of course, he’s fine with this. But nothing’s fine at all, and his hands tremble as he tries to hold the clay.

“Here��” you say, stepping up to draw closer to him, “Let me help.” 

And just like that, your hands are on his, and his hands stop trembling but his heart — it’s beating so fast, he hears it in his ears. You look up, a soft crinkle in your smile, a faint smudge of clay on your cheek as you encourage him. Maybe it’s the light or the softness of your hand against his, but he thinks he’s never seen a person as beautiful as you.

__

Both of you are greeted by the image of Satoru, cut straight from the cover of Vogue, he’s adorned in formal attire, a well-fitted blazer draping his frame.

"Wow," you exclaim, and Getou can't help but silently concur. Satoru cleans up impressively when he decides to wear more than just loosely fitted house clothing. "Where are you off to, Mr. Businessman?"

One second you’re beside Getou and the next you’re throwing yourself onto him, your hands encircling his neck, as you pepper soft kisses to his cheek. 

“There’s a gala tonight at Dad’s,” Satoru mumbles, a playful pout forming on his lips. “Please come with me or I won’t make it to bed tonight,” he says, throwing his head back as his grip loosens around you

“Sure, but I need to take a shower and get dressed. It'll take a bit,” you say, glancing down at your clay-stained clothing.

"It's alright," Satoru reassures you. “Come in when you’re ready. It's scheduled to continue until midnight,” he says. He then turns his attention to Getou. “You too – Suguru, Dad asked for you. You’re free, right?”

Getou's mind races, contemplating a myriad of excuses he could offer. He's not entirely sure which one will slip from his lips, but just as he's about to speak, you interject.

“He’s free all night,” you say. Right, he did tell you he had no plans. 

“I’ll see you both there,” Satoru grins, bestowing a soft peck on your cheek before jokingly leaning in to plant a kiss on Suguru's cheek as well. Suguru nudges him off with a groan, but can't suppress a small smile as Satoru walks away, giggling softly, toward the car.

—

“Wow,” you say, emerging from the room, a blue dress adorning your figure. As you approach Getou, you wrap a shawl around your neck. "You clean up nicely, Suguru."

"Thank you," he replies, his words plain as his eyes remain fixed on the mirror as he fumbles with tying his tie. 

Getou has always relied on Satoru for this task — ever since Satoru first learned to tie a tie at the age of seven, Suguru has had little need to do it himself. Satoru’s always around after all. Maybe he should wait until they arrive at the gala and let Satoru take care of it.

"I can help if that’s okay," you offer, and finally, Suguru turns to look at you. And it’s not a surprise, not when he found you beautiful with clay smeared on your face. You’re beautiful, in a refined sense this time.

"You look beautiful," he remarks, the words flowing forth unbidden and unrestrained from his lips. His eyes remain fixed on you, dazed and entranced.

"Thank you," you respond with a warm smile. Your hands reach for his tie, your fingers deftly adjusting its length.

You work quickly and efficiently, handing him your phone as you loop the tie and pull it up to his neck. "Is this too tight?" you inquire.

"No, it's perfect. Thank you," he replies, with a gulp, returning your phone with a smile.

"Shall we go?" you suggest, and all he can do is nod in silent agreement.

—

The event is grand, a slew of gold and shimmer greeting you as you enter through the big doors. You haven't attended many events hosted by the Gojo household, for Satoru rarely graces such occasions with his presence. However, when you have attended, they have always been nothing short of grand.

You make a conscious effort not to be daunted by the esteemed guests. Being with Gojo Satoru requires an air of confidence that should precede the man himself. He effortlessly commands respect solely by his birthright, but you need to command respect despite your birthright. Still, it comes easy to you as your hands are locked with Getou’s, you walk through — your head held high, only greeting those who bow to greet you. 

You’re only at the precipice of your entry, and Satoru walks his way towards the two of you. The hand locked to your own starts to falter but you hold it tight, turning to eye Suguru who looks at you confused. Satoru’s here now, you can let go but you don’t — you merely tighten your hand as Satoru holds his hand out for your other, unoccupied hand. 

You smile, “Why, thank you.” And the three of you enter in lockstep with each other.

The evening goes as every evening at this household does — Satoru’s by your side clinging to you as he whines about leaving, you remind him that you all just got here, Getou passes you some food, and you chomp on them as you sip the wine, judging its taste with Suguru, Satoru disappears, presumably having a fight with his father, as you look all over trying to find him. 

The evening proceeds as every evening at the Gojo residence does. Satoru clings to your side, bemoaning the idea of leaving even though you've all just arrived. You reassure him, reminding him that the event has only just begun. Getou discreetly passes you some food from the counter, and you nibble on it while sipping your wine, judging its taste with Suguru. Satoru vanishes momentarily, presumably locked in a confrontation with his father, and you look all over the building trying to find him. 

This time, however, Suguru doesn’t help you look. He stops you, his voice soft but resolute. “Let's dance.” 

You're taken aback, but you accept his outstretched hand. You know he’s partly doing this because you’re too worried today, Satoru seems to be in a more fragile state than usual — what with his mother, his father, and his father’s mistress making an appearance together today. 

Getou moves like a man with composure, his demeanor still and practiced as he swirls you across the floor. There's a slight fear in your heart that you might stumble and fall, but with each step, his hand holds your body tight, securing you with every move.

“You’re good at this,” you remark. “Really good.”

"Yeah," he replies. "I've had some practice," he recalls a time when Satoru had offered to help him learn how to dance before prom — to impress his date. "Satoru taught me," he admits.

"Right, checks out," you chuckle. "You're even better than him though. Do you secretly practice in that little room of yours?" you squint your eyes, with a smirk on your lips.

“Well, only so I can impress pretty girls like you,” he quips, punctuating his statement with a graceful dip.

You rise from the dip, a soft heat coursing through your cheeks. You're about to respond when you notice Satoru standing alone, a forlorn expression on his face as he downs a glass of alcohol. Suguru’s eyes follow your own as he turns, his own expression shifting to one of concern — Satoru rarely indulges in alcohol.

“You should talk to him,” you suggest, aware of the soft, resentful pang within your insulated chest that recognizes — right now, Satoru needs Suguru more than you. He’s a much more practiced person in the art of soothing Satoru having decades to perfect them. And besides, you figure someone needs to cover for the three of you here, and it might as well be you and your pretty smiles.

Suguru nods, making his way across the hall to reach Satoru — he doesn’t say much, only asking him to follow him outside to the balcony, Satoru wordlessly complies.

"You should set the glass down, Satoru," Suguru gently advises, attempting to pry the drink from his grip. Satoru resists momentarily, causing a small spill on his suit.

"This suit was expensive, you know," Satoru mumbles, his words slurring slightly. “You’re paying for this.”

“Uh-huh,” it would cause barely a dent in Gojo’s account to replace the suit, but he knows he’s deflecting trying to talk about anything but what’s bothering him. "What's bothering you? We can leave if you want. We've been here for a while."

"I'm fine," Satoru insists, dawdling closer to the balcony's edge. Suguru hurries to hold onto him, his fingers tightening around Satoru's waist.

"You're not fine," Suguru counters gently. He manages to take the glass from Satoru's hand, setting it aside. "Tell me, Satoru."

"I don't... I don't know," Satoru confesses, his voice heavy and his voice meek. "I've known about them since I was ten. Why does it still bother me?" 

“It doesn't matter how long you've known about it. Emotions don't adhere to timelines, Satoru,” Suguru says, his words soft because they can be — it’s only the two of them out here in the chill of the evening air.

After a while, Satoru finally breaks the quietude. "Thank you for this," he says.

Suguru doesn’t respond.

“I don’t say this often, or at all but thank you,” he says, with a sad chuckle. 

Suguru smiles, as Satoru comes to hug him, flopping himself onto Suguru’s body. He’s tired and drunk and acting sappy, Suguru chuckles. Satoru tries to push back, and he manages — enough to leave a soft kiss on Suguru's neck, “Thank you.” He hears him mumble as he tightens his hold on Satoru.

Suguru attempts to pull back to meet Satoru's gaze, but the younger man seems dazed and half-conscious. It becomes clear to Suguru that it's time to take Satoru home.

—

Things change after the gala. Suguru finds that he prefers this to whatever was happening before. At least now, he’s in here with the two of you, able to take up space in his own living room, his own house — instead of being cooped up in his room in order to avoid sharing space with you two. 

You started inviting him out to events you attend, he finds that you’re far more resourceful than himself or Satoru — you have a myriad of hobbies, all of which you treat with care. He finds himself doing the same, despite his disinterest in some — he likes the time he spends with you. Satoru starts joining in on some days. On other days, he lounges on the couch, inviting Suguru to fall into a routine of laziness with him, the two of them end up napping all day, only for you to come join them in the evening. 

You hear the click of the door handle turning, and then shuffling, before Getou flits into the living room with a small cover in his hand. 

He’s about to greet you when he sees you in your sorry state — nose running, eyes weeping with a slew of tissues at your feet.

“Uhh—” He stops to take the scene entirely before his eyes flit to the screen in front of you — a movie with a dog and some child playing. “Are you on your period?” He finishes, looking directly at you, face serious with concern. 

Your mouth opens ajar in shock, “I hope this is some sort of bad joke on your part,” you retort.

“No, I’m just confused,” he replies, eyeing the screen and back to your face. His face serious and lacking of any sense of amusement, 

“What’s confusing — I’m allowed to cry without it being my period,” you say, firmly but he’s finding it hard to take you seriously when all he wants to do is squish your cheeks. “I’m allowed to be sad,” you say.

“You’re just — you’re not often,” he says plainly.

Another figure flits into the scene with sleepy eyes and the same excruciating sweatpants.“Shit baby, are you on your period again?” he says, with a yawn.

Your mouth opens up more, in shock, in annoyance before you speak up a simple word — “Couch.”

Getou only then chuckles.

“What? What did I do?” He whines, immediately by your side as he clings to your head. “Baby?” He prods again, and you can tell he’s trying to don puppy eyes but you can’t see him through all your tears.

“Couch,” you reaffirm. “Tonight.”

You hear Getou giggle from the kitchen before he’s by your side, his hand stretching over to give you — “Ice cream?” He asks.

You take it wordlessly but Getou doesn’t miss the soft crinkles on your face.

The three of you settle on the couch, you in the middle, with Satoru and Suguru flanking you on either side. Satoru wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you snuggle against him, your tears slowly subsiding. Suguru leans in, his hand resting on your thigh in a comforting gesture. Suguru can’t help but wander with his mind, is it normal for Gojo to let him, his best friend, do this to his girlfriend? Is it normal for him to like it?

"You guys are kinda sweet when you’re not being dicks, you know," you sniffle, wiping away the remnants of your tears with a tissue.

Getou chuckles softly, and Satoru joins in, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

—

"I should probably head home.”

Satoru pouts playfully. "Can't you stay a little longer, baby?"

“No, I have class tomorrow and I don’t want to be late.”

“Getou can drop you with the car, it’s fine. Stay. Pretty please,” he pouts even more.

“What?” Getou asks. “Why should I drop her?”

“You don’t want to drop me?” you ask, he doesn’t miss the slight hurt in your voice, in fact, it stings at his heart but he’s confused and he doesn’t understand anything at all at this moment.

“No— Of course, I don’t mind. But Satoru can drop you,” he says, confusingly reassuring.

“What?” Gojo asks, confused. “You know I sleep in. And you’re up by that time anyway.”

“But you are the boyfriend,” he rolls his eyes. “You should be doing this,” he says.

“Well, if that’s all,” Satoru chuckles, getting up to come and place himself standing beside Getou. He lifts his hand up, patting both sides of Suguru’s shoulders like he’s knighting him. “I now dub you my girlfriend’s boyfriend.” He continues to chuckle as you join in with the chortles but Suguru doesn’t laugh.

Satoru, still reeling from the humor, leans down and kisses your forehead. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I know Suguru will drop you home. He always does. And if not, I dunno know— just kick me awake."

“Fine, fine. See you both tomorrow,” you say, giving both of them a final smile before you head out the door.

Suguru remains still, still dazed from the knighting scene, and watches as you blend into the darkness of Satoru's bedroom.

[7ndipity]

Rainy Day

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Just a soft blurb about looking after Joonie on a rainy afternoon

Warnings: slight angst, comfort, slightly suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The soft evening light tinted the room with a cool blue hue as you and Namjoon lay on opposite ends of the sofa reading, your legs overlapping and tangling with his. The soothing patter of the rain outside threatened to lull you to sleep more than once as you tried to focus on the page in front of you, the words blurring slightly as your mind began to drift.

A quiet sigh from Joon however pulled you out of your dozing state.

It wasn’t the first sigh to leave him that evening, furthering your suspicions that something was on his mind as you glanced over at him curiously, taking note of the crease between his brows.

“You okay?” You asked gently.

“Yeah.” He said, still staring at the book in his hand, but you could see the set of his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Are you sure?” You asked gently. “Cause I’m pretty sure you’ve been on the same page for the past ten minutes.”

He sighed again.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, closing the book and setting it aside, lying back against the arm of the sofa as he stared at the ceiling. “I’m just tired, but I also can’t get my mind to shut off, you know?”

You nodded.

You’d noticed how hard he’d been working lately, he always wanted to give his best, for his fans, for his other group members, but with his album release quickly approaching, He’d been spending nearly all his time in the company, coming home late and then barely sleeping for more than a handful of hours before slipping out the door again in morning.

He’d tried to hide his stress and fatigue from you, but you’d known him long enough to spot the signs, both obvious and subtle.

You had noticed the sluggish drag in his step, the dark circles under his eyes, the anxious bounce in his leg as he talked.

“I just keep thinking of all the things I have to get done for the album, all the people that are relying on me,” He continued. “I just don’t want to let them down.”

“You won’t let anyone down, I have faith in you.” You said reassuringly.

“This album was so much harder to write than the last one, what if I’m starting to lose my edge?” He asked quietly, almost to himself.

“Not possible.” You said with certainty. “You are an amazing songwriter, this album being more difficult doesn’t say anything about your talent or ability.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You replied. “You never fail to stun me with your work.”

He nodded, letting his eyes fall shut as he leaned back against the couch arm, but you could tell he was still unsettled by the tense square of his shoulders.

Struck with an idea, you moved carefully to straddle his hips, causing his eyes to flick open in surprise.

“Y/n, what are-?”

“Shh, just relax.” You breathed, kissing him softly as you began to gently massage his shoulders.

His hands came up instinctively to steady you by the waist, letting out a soft groan of satisfaction, slowly melting under your touch.

You continued to work his wide shoulders, feeling the tense muscles beneath your fingers begin to relax, soft sounds of relief slipping from his throat, only to be swallowed by you as you slowly kissed him again.

You felt his hips twitch slightly beneath you, but you didn’t return the action, keeping your own hips firmly planted. Your goal tonight wasn’t to get him off, there would be time for that later.

Your only goal at the moment was to help him relax and calm his mind.

By the time you pulled away from him, he was absolute putty beneath you, eyes drooping heavily with sleep.

“Feel better?” You asked with a small grin.

“Mhm.” He hummed, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, keeping you pressed close.

“Thank you. I know I’ve been distant recently with all of this, but I want you to know how much I appreciate you looking out for me. I am so thankful for you and everything you do.”

“I will always look after you.” You said, pressing your lips to his again. “For now though, you need sleep.”

You moved to pull away so you could stand up, but Joon kept his arms locked tightly around you.

“Stay,” He murmured against your hair, laying back down against the couch arm and pulling you down on top of him. “Wanna hold you.”

Your heart melted at his soft demeanor. “Okay.”

Almost as soon as you were both settled, he was out like a light, his hold loosening slightly but never dropping from your waist.

You soon felt yourself beginning to drift off as well, listening to the slow steady beat of his heart.

“I love you Joonie.” You mumbled softly.

You knew you couldn’t fix the things that bothered him, or make them go away, but you both knew that everything would be ok, so long as you had each other to lean on.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[broadwayfan92]

Am I the only one who likes Colin and Penelope in S3 part 2?

Part 2 was always going to be about Colin finding out about LW. Yes, he was very, very mad, but it was understandable because of what Pen wrote about Marina, Eloise and himself. Yes, he was harsh, but remember how he treated Marina in S1 after he found out she was pregnant? He was very upset and angry, and said some things he shouldn’t have said.

However, this time it’s different, Colin knew he was in love with Penelope and still wanted to marry her. He found out about LW right before their wedding, so it makes sense he’s going to need time and space to digest that information. He loved her, but he also was hurt, angry, conflicted, jealous and in love. That's a lot of emotions to sort out. Just like with Marina, he said some things he shouldn't have. Colin is VERY sensitive, which is his best and worst character trait.

However, he was able to put aside his anger during the wedding and reassure Penelope with a nod that he wanted her to walk down the aisle. The love in his eyes was evident every time Pen was with him. Just when everything was fine and when it seemed like that they could work it out, the queen comes in saying one of the Bridgertons is LW. When he asked Pen to give up her column in that moment, she said no. Of course Colin was upset, especially since they hadn't moved past this roadblock.

Colin tried to save Penelope from Cressida’s blackmail, but made things worse and he hated that he couldn’t help. He's so used to helping Pen that he's never seen her be independent and work things out on her own. In the end, Colin realized he didn’t need to be a hero and Pen didn't need saving. It took time, but he worked through his emotions and was able to be the husband she needed. He accepted his wife’s choice and stood at her side. He loved Penelope deeply and was devoted to her.

Penelope also went through her own arc. She’s realized that she’s made huge mistakes because of her writing. She was trying to do better with the power she held, even if she couldn’t change the past.

She was going to tell Colin about LW, but kept getting interrupted or it was not the right time. She even gave up LW up after talking to her mother and Eloise. Pen only started writing again when Cressida nearly succeeded in trying to take credit for her work. Penelope stood up for herself and told Colin at their wedding that she wasn’t going to stop writing because LW was her work. Unfortunately, it drove a wedge in her and Colin's relationship because he didn't like keeping her identity a secret anymore than she did. In the end, she found her voice, formed her own plan and came clean. The truth was out and she was free of the secret that was too difficult and too dangerous to keep.

No, Colin did not need to go to Penelope during or right after her speech. That was HER time and part of both their arcs. She was owning up to her mistakes and actions, and Colin didn’t need to save her. He was looking at her with the love and support she needed. He nodded in encouragement and pride. Their time as a couple was after her moment in the spotlight.

These are flawed characters shaped by their home lives and experiences that life threw at them for 3 seasons. This was about two people growing, accepting each other for who they are and the love between them conquering everything else. Forgiveness was also a big part of their stories. Penelope had to forgive herself for her mistakes and ask for it, while Colin had to forgive Penelope.

Throughout the season, Colin had to learn to be himself instead of what society expected of him and to not be the hero. Penelope had to learn to come out of her shell and find her voice outside of LW. This is a big accomplishment for two characters who are at least 19 and 22 at the start of S3.

Side note: I’ve noticed the writers like drama for every couple on Bridgerton, particularly the last four episodes. S1 was heavy on lack of communication. S2 dealt with not wanting to fall in love. S3 dealt with secrets. Both of the main characters of these seasons aren't 100% happy until at least the last 10 minutes of the last episode.

I think in S4 we’ll see Colin and Penelope as a happier and stronger couple. However, I don’t expect to see a lot of them, similar to Anthony and Kate in S3 and Daphne in S2. Once the couples are married, they don’t seem to get a lot of screen time in order to make room for the next main pairing, but are there to offer advice. Personally, I hope next season is Benedict's.

Anyway, loved this season! Polin forever!

[wabatle]

cute scenarios that happened in your relationship before featuring: Reo, Bachira, Rin warnings: reader is prob implied fem a/n: idk i just wanted to write these specific three. i just love them. lmk if I should do a part two with more characters!

Reo Mikage: Teaching you how to slow dance.

“Baby,” He called you, gently placing his hand on your cheek. “I'm bored.”

“Then what do you want to do?” You asked.

“I don't know.” He sighed, flopping down on the bed. He hummed. “Do you know how to slow dance?”

“Huh?”

“Slow dancing. Like what they do in movies?”

“Oh, that? I don't know how to do that, no.”

“Can I teach you?”

“If you want.”

Reo pulled you up off of the bed.

“Now, you put your hand here,” He took your hand and put it on his shoulder. “and then we hold hands here…” He put his one free hand on your waist. “And then this hand goes here.”

“Am I doing it right?” You asked nervously.

“You’re doing it perfectly, love.” He responded. “Now, do you know what steps to take?”

“…No.”

He chuckled. “Then I'll show you.”

Slowly, but surely, you were able to learn how to slow dance, with the help of Reo.

“Then, just like this?” You asked.

“Exactly like that!” He assured you. “You’re good at this, (name)!”

You looked so cute. He loved it. He loves teaching you these types of things, and you love being taught them because Reo gets so excited to be able to teach you these things.

Meguru Bachira: Painting together.

“Oh wow, babe! That looks really pretty!” Bachira told you, patting your back.

“Really? I don’t think it’s that good.”

“No, it is! It’s pretty! I’ll frame it and hang it up once it’s dry!” He said, kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, babe!” You thanked him happily, your heightened confidence allowing you to be more risky with your paint job.

“Hmm… What color should I use next, baby?” Bachira asked you.

“Um, I think yellow would look good there.” You replied.

“Ah, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that?” As he painted the yellow on the canvas, you noticed some of the paint splattered onto his cheek. Of course, you both had paint on you, as you had been painting for a little while now.

“Meguru, you have paint on your face.”

“Huh?” He tried to rub the paint off of his face, but he ended up smearing more paint on his cheek.

“No, you just rubbed more on!” You giggled. You set your paintbrush down and took his hand. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

“Ah, you have paint on your face too, baby!” He announced, starting to giggle himself.

“What? No way!”

Once you made it to the bathroom, Bachira poked your cheek. “See? There’s paint. Right there!”

Then, you both took turns wiping the paint off of the other’s face for almost ten minutes.

Rin Itoshi: Needs your cuddles at the end of a rough day.

“Welcome home, Rin.” You greeted Rin in a kind voice as he walked through the door. You had been working on making dinner, and it smelled amazing.

Rin let out a loud sigh and wrapped his arms around your waist. “The food smells good.”

You continued to season the raw chicken in front of you, staying unfazed by the man clinging to your waist. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home.”

“Well, we’ll have some time before I have to get the chicken out of the oven.” You said, placing the tray into the oven. You set the timer and let Rin lead you to the couch.

You sat down and Rin plopped his head on your shoulder. He sighed again.

“You alright, baby?” You asked him.

“I’m tired.” He pulled you closer. “I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, well, now you’re home and can relax.” You put a hand on his head.

“I missed you today,” He breathed.

“I missed you too.”

By the time the oven timer went off, Rin was asleep on your shoulder. Obviously you didn’t want to wake him up. But you also didn’t want to ruin the dinner you had worked hard to prepare for him.

“Rin,” You whispered. “I need to get up.”

He reluctantly moved, but you could see the tiredness on his face.

“You owe me now,” He called to you.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Some people in the comments of that wild kink at pride ask are saying there isn’t kink at pride anyway, i have a different experience but i think mine also is evidence for allowing kink at pride. I’ve been going to my local pride since I was tiny and there has been kink and sexual stuff*, but it never affected me at all and I was able to ignore it. It’s not like it was every person and booth, I didn’t combust at the concept of sex and Nobody tried to engage with me because people don’t magically forget how consent works.

*to clarify, when I say kink gear and sexual stuff at pride I mean I always see people selling/wearing/holding and sometimes joking around with stuff like harnesses, leashes, pup masks, whips, paddles, sex toys, erotic art, etc, (which is what people are arguing about as far as I can tell) not like doing whole scenes or active sex in public. Which might be the cause of some people’s confusion here

for sure, even at the tamest small-town prides I've ever been to there have been attendees in harnesses and pup masks and chokers (although the chokers are indistinguishable from what someone gothy might just wear as part of a daily look, anyway), and there have been vendors selling dildos and art that has utilizes the leather pride flag or depicts nude bodies.

and that's like. that's it? that's all there is to be "exposed" to at the average pride event: people wearing masks, which kids and teens haveba pretty solid grasp on. a sex toy, which most kids won't recognize and don't care about and most teens already know about. art featuring nudity, which the teens, again, should know about and the kids could also see if they visited an average art museum. hell, my 4th graders can have mature conversations about what genitals look like! people who may be scantily clad, which any child or teen who has been to a pool or beach has seen before.

(hell, that one's not even exclusive to people in kink gear. I was at a table for my extremely unsexy office job at this year's pride wearing a small rainbow halter top that shows off a lot of tit, because it's fucking hot and I didn't want to sweat to death. I interacted with a lot of young people, and none of them exploded from the sight of an adult's cleavage.)

and this apparently looming threat of, what? one of these adults choosing to be creepy to a teen? that's not pride-specific; that can happen literally anywhere that adults and teens are in the same space including, famously, school and the fucking home. do we just bubble wrap kids and leave them in a safety vault from the onset puberty until they turn 18 to make sure they never experience anything remotely sex-adjacent?

[samsno1]

Hi, idk how often you do requests but could you do a mid season Sam fic. The reader is with the FBI with the unexplained cases and she meets the brothers. It would be funny if they tried to convince her that they are also with the FBI and she somehow catches them in their lie. They work together in the case and Sam and the reader end up falling for eachother. Thanks you so so much!!!!

Caught

Sam Winchester X F!Reader

this took me so long to write i'm so sorry. i don't reeeeally like the ending but i did the best i could. i hope this is what you expected bby <3

Summary: You were assigned a complex case and you end up meeting two very weird men who were, apparently, also FBI agents but...why are they named after famous rockstars?

Warnings: FLUFF, descriptions of murderer, murder scenes and violence (usual supernatural shenanigans), sam is an 'intimidating woman enjoyer™', use of Y/N, the writer (me) has no idea how fbi works because she isn't an USA resident, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

W.C.: 8,8k

enjoy!

You had climbed the ladder in the world of criminology considerably fast considering your age. Getting into the FBI in your late 20s was probably one of your biggest achievements and, of course, men tended to make disgusting comments about how such a young woman got such a difficult job – including claiming you opened your legs to get this far. You didn’t mind, actually, it added to your ego to be above those guys – as if they even deserved to be in a job that required empathy towards the victims.

Still, even your superior was shocked at the case he found. A couple had been killed inside their room without any signs of forced entry. All doors and windows were locked and nothing inside the house had been stolen; the bodies seemed to be torn apart from the inside out since there were no knife or bullet wounds and he put you on the case. He thought you would have the abilities to deal with something like this – ‘you’re a prodigy’ he had said – and the guts. The crime scene was absolutely vile; there was blood everywhere and their faces had the skin peeled off to the point their cranial bones were visible. You had seen some stuff, but nothing like this.

The first thing that you did when you got to town was talking with the local police so that you’d learn more about the town’s history with murderers – especially the unexplainable ones. They told you something close to an urban legend: the house that the couple was renting was cursed according to the locals. Decades ago, three kids got killed by their parents in rage, who committed suicide afterwards. They never found the kids bodies and the case went cold after a few years, the police giving up on finding their remains. You found that absolutely unacceptable, giving up on children like that should be a crime, but it wasn’t up to you. Ever since the assassination, every person that rented or bought the house died in unexplainable ways and the police had started to practically ignore or do the bare minimum on the case.

“We’ve been having problems with that house for years” Said the sheriff, a man with a grown out beard, deep eyebags and average height. Not what you would expect for a sheriff given his dismissiveness towards you and the mess his office was. “The previous sheriff also received complaints from townsfolk regarding the place but we could never find out anything. There were no clues, no suspects, just…nothing” He finished, his arms waving around tiredly.

“This is probably why they put the FBI on the case” You said to yourself, guaranteeing the man wouldn’t hear you. You took notes on your notebook, your legs crossed as you sat in front of the sheriff, his table between both of you. You could sense his eyes on you and feel his unasked question floating around in the air. “Anything else, Sheriff?” You asked, looking up from your notes.

He seemed to wake up from his thoughts, shaking his head lightly at you. “No it’s just…Why do you need three FBI agents to work on this?” He asked, on edge, a worry line prominent in his aged face as he squinted at you. Three? You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned back on the chair, closing your notebook.

“I’m not aware of the other two working alongside me” You say. You thought about what your boss had told you and didn’t remember him saying anything about partners, especially two. You usually worked alone most of the time, functioning better on your own. Then again, this was a difficult case, maybe they thought it was better than one federal agent working on this.

“They came by earlier today, asking about the same house and the murderers. They were tall, one of them was…very tall and had long hair. The other one was less serious and, honestly, unprofessional. I think they said they were agent Page and Plant” The sheriff filled you in and now this seemed like a joke. You raised an eyebrow. You had a peculiar taste in music considering it was the 2000s and your father barely listened to anything further than the 90s, resulting in you growing up to know most of the rock bands that were at their highest from the 60s to the 90s. That included Led Zeppelin. And it would be too big of a coincidence for both guys to work together with last names such as those.

“I’ll talk to them about the case, thank you very much Sheriff” You say, raising yourself from the chair and extending a hand to politely shake his. You walked out of his office with a question in your mind and thought about looking up Page and Plant on the database to see if anything showed up when you got to your room tonight. For now, you had to take a look at the crime scene while it was still daylight.

–

Your car’s engine died down as you turned the key. You opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting your suit over the white button down you wore underneath. You shoved your car key in your pocket and, when you looked up, you saw another car that easily stood out from the others around the street – a black Chevrolet Impala which you couldn’t guess the specific year just by looking. It was a very beautiful car and you secretly praised in your mind whoever owned it – it seemed well taken care of.

You walked to the crime scene, taking your badge in hand to show it to the police officer that took care of the place when you saw two men, also in suits, talking with one of the officers – two tall men, one had longer hair. The officer approached you as you got closer and you simply showed your badge to him before he nodded and lifted up the ‘crime scene’ tape for you to go underneath. You ducked down and mumbled a thank you as you made a beeline towards the two guys.

You wondered what you were going to say and how you were going to question them about their identity without seeming like you’re assuming anything. As you walked closer, they were finishing their conversation and were turning to leave making you almost bump right into them. They stumbled back and you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Who are you?” The shorter one asked you and you took the badge out of your pocket again with a sigh, making sure he reads your name and sees the picture of you that clearly stated you were a federal. He hummed and looked towards his partner, a silent conversation going on between them. You interrupt.

“And you?” You ask and they get their own badges out. You extend a hand to the taller one, silently asking you if you could take a look at it. He gave it to you willingly, which was one less red flag to take into consideration. You looked through everything and it all seemed alright…until you looked at the name on the bottom. Jimmy Page. Is this serious? You look up at them with a judging look and you see the tallest swallow harshly. “Your parents were big Led Zeppelin fans I assume” You say.

“Yeah, yeah they– ha– they were” Jimmy says in a way that’s not believable at all, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shorter one closes his eyes and shakes his head discreetly in disappointment – which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give Page his badge back and turn to – apparently – Plant.

“I didn’t know that I would have partners in this case, but maybe it’s for the better. What did you find out about the case? Just so we are on the same page” You look between both of them. Plant nudges his partner in the ribs and, before mumbling somewhat of a curse to Plant after practically jumping in place, Page starts to explain to you about their side of the investigation. He seemed professional enough, with a notebook in his hands as he told you everything they could make up from what they knew so far, even sharing with you his assumptions. You were impressed as you started telling him about what you thought – a weird case, too many murders, few clues…Plant stayed quiet most of the time until about halfway through your conversation he said he was going back to his car and you took that as a hint to call it a day.

“Well, I think we are going to work well together, Agent L/N” Page says with a polite smile and you nod, smiling yourself. You took one of your cards where your professional number was written on along with your name and offered it to him. He gently took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Just in case you have anything else to share” You said and he nodded, a strand of his hair falling over his face, which he mindlessly put back with a brush of his hand. “It was great meeting you, Agent Page”

“You too” He said and, sensing the end of the encounter, you started to walk back to your car. You still couldn’t shake the thought of those two being too suspicious for your liking and you were determined to look them up and see if Agents Jimmy Page and Robert Plant actually existed. You walked fast, your heels knocking against the concrete and you didn’t notice Page’s eyes on you, lost in the movement of your hair as you walked away. What woke him up from his trance, though, was his partner honking and signaling for him to hurry up. He rolled his eyes and walked to his own car, stealing one last glance at you. You turned your head back right on cue, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. He awkwardly waved goodbye back and started to walk to the honking Impala.

You had assumed the unknown car belonged to them and you had written down the plate in your notebook discreetly – just in case. You were impressed by their ability – well, Page’s ability – to analyze crime scenes but you weren’t stupid. You couldn’t just erase the fact that you had no idea who those two were and you were determined to find out, one way or another.

–

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Sam got inside the car in the passenger’s side, almost hitting his head on the roof – like he did most days. Dean was impatiently waiting for him to get in until he saw something clasped in his brother’s hand, his eyes quietly scanning the white paper. In Sam’s distraction, Dean reached for it before he could react. “Hey!”

“You got her number? Wow Sam, never thought of you like that” Dean teased as he looked through your name written in cursive writing and your phone number right under it. Sam snatched the small card back from his brother and shoved it in his pocket, glaring at Dean.

“Shut up man, this is her professional number, she gave it to me so we could talk” He defended as he put his seatbelt on. He mindlessly brushed a hand through his hair again, getting it out of his face as he heard Dean chuckle to himself as Baby’s engine roared to life. Sam looked back to his brother and waited for more teasing to come – as it always did.

“Yeah, talk.” He said, the double meaning in his words floating around in the air but being ignored by Sam. Dean pressed his foot on the pedal so the car would start to move as he shifted into gear. “Besides, she’s an actual FBI agent, don’t you think she’s going to suspect that we aren’t?”

“Dean, I did go to law school, I can manage my way out of this” Sam said with a mischievous smile. He really thought he could, he knew he was smart and he was a damn good liar – he lied in college for a very long time about who he was and what his family did. Not something to be proud of but it came in handy, especially when both him and his brother were in trouble. He had practically lied his whole life about who he truly was, not entirely giving away specific details – especially those who involved his family. Sometimes he regretted it – like he did with Jess – but it was always safer not to know, for both parties. Or so he thought.

“Don’t think she’s stupid–”

“I don’t think she’s stupid–”

“Let me finish” Dean scolded, raising a hand to silence his brother, his eyes still on the road. It was often funny to pay attention to their brotherly behavior and how anyone could know who was the oldest just by these simple interactions. Dean raised his hand and Sam silenced, listening, like how it was when they were kids. “Don’t think she’s naive, she is in the FBI, working alone on a case. I don’t know much about federals but I’m sure that’s not for everyone”

Sam stayed quiet. He knew Dean was right but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Still, he really didn’t think you were stupid, it was impossible to. The way you talked about the case in detail, relating your point of view and what you could gather in a few hours was more than enough evidence to show him you deserved this job more than anyone. He wasn’t used to seeing women in this field, but everytime he did he was convinced that men were definitely unfairly placed higher. Yet, he still didn’t want to get arrested again so he needed to convince you that he and Dean were legitimately federals.

The conversation drifted away in another direction as Sam stared out the window and replied to the small talk Dean made with him every now and then – when he didn’t crank up the volume once Metallica came into the radio playing Creeping Death while they were talking. With a chorus of ‘Die, die!’ being sung by Dean while he beat his hands on the steering wheel to the drum rhythm, Sam’s mind drifted away and he fell asleep with a head against the window, the tiredness of sleepless nights catching up to him.

–

These fuckers. You thought to yourself as you stared mouth agape to the pictures of who you learned were actually Sam and Dean Winchester – not Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. Two brothers, presumed dead a couple years ago.

Your coffee sat cold over the wooden table of the hotel you were staying the night at. You had already changed into your pajamas and taken a hot shower when you decided to take a look at the case again. Two hours later you remembered the two men you encountered and, when you looked a bit deeper in the police files, the results were horrifying. It actually wasn’t that hard to find out about them, a quick look through the FBI database and you found their exact faces – even if Pag- Sam’s hair was relatively shorter then now. You were beyond pissed, especially at yourself, how could you not have known this? How could you let yourself get played like this? Just because the tall guy was a bit of a nerd and kind of cute? Ugh!

You started pacing around your room, not knowing what to do. Confronting them could kill you, they were murderers after all, according to the database, they had killed civilians and federal agents equally as much. You were strong, both physically and mentally, but there was no way you were escaping two guys that were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds each. You had to play smart, you had to catch them in a weak moment and then. Bingo. You stopped in your tracks and – like a lightbulb lightened up above your head – you had the perfect plan. You had to wait until the next day for you to execute it but it was going to be worth it. You sent their mugshots to your phone through your e-mail and any other evidence that you could use against them.

You still felt slightly weirded out about them. They didn’t seem dangerous, they didn’t freak out the moment they saw you and they were confidently adding to the investigation with actual useful analysis. You were looking deeper through their files and found out they lost their mother in a fire at a very young age – the youngest wasn’t even one year old yet – and their father had died a couple years ago, in ‘06. They had a pretty sketchy life, living off stolen credit cards and fake identities but something interesting you found out was that Sam Winchester actually went to college, he went to Stanford and your eyes widened at that. You wondered what made him quit, maybe his father dying and his brother needing him, maybe he got kicked out, still, going to college after having a childhood like that was more than impressive.

You kept reading about them until the late hours of the night and you only noticed you fell asleep over the papers you left on the table and your computer when a phone ringing startled you awake. The noise echoed inside your head and, as you lifted your head, the sunlight getting into the room through the curtains hurt your eyes. You only noticed how bad you’d slept when you felt a pain shoot through your neck and down your back as you turned your head to look for the phone – great. You groaned and felt around the table with your hand until you felt the square shape of the device and its humming. You clicked to answer after slightly clearing your throat so you’d seem less sleepy and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Agent L/N speaking”

“Hey Y/N, how are things going?” The voice of your boss made you unconsciously straighten your back and swallow harshly. You looked at the time on your computer and your heart fell to your stomach. 11:36AM – shit! 

“Hey Sir, everything is running smoothly. I’m currently collecting evidence and later I’m going to the morgue so I can look through the autopsy”

“That’s great, you always do a great job kid” He said and you could feel him smiling on the other side of the line. You felt bad for kind of lying but you had been worrying about other stuff last night.

“Thank you Sir, I’ll report back to you as soon as possible” You reply.

You talked for a while longer as you disclosed the case and, when he finally hung up, it was already past noon. As you got ready for your day, doing your daily morning routine as quickly as you could, you felt your stomach rumble when you got out of the shower, reminding you that you hadn’t had breakfast. You decided then that it was better to stop at a diner or somewhere so you could eat something to go on with your day – since it was already lunchtime you couldn’t necessarily call this brunch. You finished getting ready, putting on your shoes and grabbing the keys to your car while you looked up the closest place to eat something quick.

You drove to the nearest diner that had a decent rating and stopped at the parking lot. When you looked around, you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. The infamous Impala was parked a couple meters from you in all its glory. You audibly sighed but you couldn’t just find another place to eat as quickly, besides, you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe eating at the same place as them was actually a good strategy. You grabbed your wallet and locked your car, confidently walking towards the diner entrance.

The bells dinged above your head as you got in, some eyes looking your way with the noise – including Sam’s. Him and his brother were sitting in a booth in the far corner of the diner, Sam turned in the direction of the door and Dean facing away from it, in his brother’s direction. Sam had his laptop open in front of him as he ate a salad, Dean was eating a burger. Thay had probably been talking before you came in because when you came through the door Sam went quiet as he looked over his brother’s shoulder and Dean kept talking, hunched over his food. You couldn’t listen to their conversation but you gave Sam a slight smile and a nod, your stomach turning as you faked sympathy, as if you didn’t just friendly greet a murderer. He nodded back and that's when Dean slightly turned to look behind him and see you, nodding as well.

You started to walk towards their table, the weight of your hidden gun on your hip more than evident. Just keep calm, you were trained for this. You decided to keep to yourself that you knew their true identity, after all, you were one step ahead of them and, deep down, you knew they could be useful. Their intelligence was beyond impressive – faking your death wasn’t something easy to do. You stood above them with a gentle smile.

“Hello agents, mind if I sit with you?” You asked as politely as you could. Sam scooted almost instantly, changing the placement of his laptop to the side of the window. You didn’t miss the eyebrow raise his brother gave him.

“Hey Ms. L/N. No, not at all, make yourself comfortable” He said, smiling at you. He has dimples you mentally stated.

“Yeah, please” Dean agreed, stretching a hand to the seat beside Sam. His voice was slightly muffled thanks to the food in his mouth and you internally cringed as you could see the chewed food when he talked.

“Thanks. No need to call me by my last name, you can just call me Y/N” You simply said as you sat down, looking almost immediately to the computer screen open in newspapers that dated a couple years back. Murders in the same house all with the same time frame from each other. “I see you work even while you were supposed to be on your break, careful not to burn out Agent Page” You said, looking at his side profile. He seemed embarrassed as your sweet voice got to his ears and awkwardly laughed.

“You know…you don’t need to call me Agent Page, that is just an alias, call me Smith, Sam Smith. That’s Dean Wesson” He said. Huh, claiming aliases, smart move Winchester. “And yeah, I’ve been taking a look at the history of the place, apparently–”

“It’s timed killing” You finished. You scooted slightly closer, pointing your finger to the screen where the date of the newspaper was written at. “Every two years on the same date someone was brutally murdered in the house.”

“Yeah and inside the same room too” Dean pointed out. That you hadn’t noticed. A waiter coming to get your order interrupted the conversation you three were having to get your order. You quickly looked through the menu deciding to eat the quickest and most nutritious stuff there could be at a diner. You thanked the boy that took your order and he walked in long strides towards the kitchen. You came back to the talk you were having with the two brothers and Dean continued. “The master suite. And always couples, someone seems to hate true love” He joked.

“Apparently. Have any ideas for suspects yet?” You asked. If you were going to play pretend you might as well acquire some useful information with it. The boys shared a look between them that they thought you wouldn’t catch, but you weren’t FBI for no reason.

“None yet, still looking into it” Sam said, suddenly seeming on edge, shifting his placement on the booth. You were good at reading body language, it was one of the main qualities that got you in the FBI, interrogating criminals was easy exactly because they couldn’t lie. When you learned their behavior and played your way into their head it destroyed them because even if they were silent, even if they didn’t say anything, you knew what they were lying about – flinching when you mention a certain name or changing the leg they were crossing under the table when you named an address. So, Sam couldn’t hide from you earlier, imagine now that you were inches away.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and turning your torso slightly more in his direction, leaning your elbow on the table. He was trapped. You thought about confronting them here, questioning them about their identity in public but you thought better – they definitely had guns on them and two beats one. Either way, you’d put him in a challenging situation, confronting him without even disagreeing verbally. He felt intimidated and now seemed unsure of his own conclusion – how you loved playing these games.

“I mean there’s barely any clues” He laughed nervously. “I was going to call you to see if you had any idea”

“I don’t either, as you said, no leads” You said. The waiter arrived with your food right then and you politely thanked him, drifting away from the conversation you were having with Sam as you started to eat. This time you weren’t paying attention and Dean questioned Sam with a look. What is she on? And the youngest shrugged. You swallowed your food with a pleasant hum, just now noticing how hungry you truly were. “I was thinking we could go to the morgue, if you haven’t already. Take a look at the bodies, see if we find anything”

You were purposefully playing right into their game, faking cluesness and at the same time taking advantage of their abilities to solve the case. It was more important to you to solve whatever was going on to bring peace back to this town than to arrest the brothers who were supposed to be dead. You’d learned that men tended to believe that you were stupid very easily, that you had no idea what you were doing and you started using that to have your way with them. With big doe eyes and feigned innocence you could get very far.

“That’s where we were going later actually. It’s good if you tag along” Sam tells you.

“I would even if you didn’t want me to” You said, joking, but not really. Your tone was humorous  but your smile was bitter. They didn’t seem to notice though and Sam even chuckled slightly at your sarcasm. You noticed the dimples in his cheeks and how boyish his smile was, full of bright white teeth and sincerity. You almost felt bad for being rude until you remembered they were killers – even if they didn’t look like it. Sam didn’t seem the type to brutally murder someone, Dean seemed too stupid to be able to get away with it for so many years, even faking his own death and walking around normally – you’d bet he was the one with the idea to put the name of famous rockstars as FBI aliases.

By the time the conversation was over, so was your food. You left enough money for the bill and a tip and stood up from the booth. “Okay, well, let’s go, we have a lot to do today boys” You said, adjusting your suit, unnecessarily dusting it off. You eyed Dean’s plate, the mess he made similar to how a child would eat. You would have laughed if you were in a more friendly situation. You looked at Sam and with a smile you said: “Don’t be late pretty boy, I’ll be waiting for you”

Then you turned around, politely nodded goodbye to Dean and started walking away, holding back a laugh. Sam stood still, stunned as he stared at you walked out the door, the bells above you ringing twice – one for when you pulled the door, the other after you let it smoothly close behind you. Dean was staring too, his bright green eyes filled with confusion. Once he turned to look at Sam he saw his younger brother completely zoned out, looking in the direction where you once were. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, who immediately looked at Dean.

“Pretty boy?” Dean questioned, holding back a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean…”

“She’s got you man. I get it, strong and intimidating women, I understand, I understand”

“That’s not it, she seems…off” Sam points out, looking at the door once more to make sure you wouldn’t come back and leaning closer to unnecessarily speak in a lower voice to Dean. “I think she might be an it, the monster we are looking for”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“The way she’s acting is, I don’t know, weird”

“Look Sam I know you’re not used to having women hit on you but that doesn’t mean they are monsters” Dean teased, Sam gritted his teeth.

“Dean, I’m serious!”

“Okay, alright, we are going to investigate then” Dean said, raising his hands in fake surrender to his brother’s scolding. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. Didn’t we consider it to be a vengeful spirit?”

“Maybe, or maybe we are dealing with something completely different”

“Alright smart-ass, but if you’re wrong you owe me a six pack”

Sam scoffed but he wasn’t one to turn down any bet. He had thought your behavior was weird the moment you stepped foot in the diner. The questions you asked, the way you would constantly question his abilities, there was something going on and he could sense it. Besides, he liked betting with Dean, especially winning, so there was no way he wasn’t accepting his brother’s challenge.

“Deal” Sam said, hitting his palms against the table and standing up, ready to leave and go to the morgue. Dean followed his movements and stood up with a cheeky smile, taking out his wallet to pay for the food.

–

At the morgue, you waited about 5 minutes until they arrived. When they walked up to the entrance you were waiting at, Sam and Dean saw you in a much more serious state as you read through your notes and made annotations here and there. The noise of their footsteps made you look up and put your little notebook back in your pocket and place your pen behind your ear. You crossed your arms in front of your body and waited for them to get closer. Your heels were starting to hurt the bottom of your feet from standing too long in the same place and you were overwhelmed with different emotions – towards the men and yourself.

You weren’t necessarily scared of Sam and Dean, you were trained not to be, but it was never in your plans to be alone in a city with federal criminals, it would be downright ignorant not to be at least nervous with the situation. You were keeping yourself friendly without giving away any hint that you might know who they were, debating internally which would be the worst case: if you confronted them or stuck beside them for longer – what’s that say again? Friends close, enemies closer.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam called you and you turned your lips upwards in some-kind of a smile. He mirrored your expression and you caught his dimples again, your eyes wandering around his face. You broke the stare when Dean cleared his throat and, when you looked at him, he had his eyebrows furrowed, giving Sam a side-eye – more like a diagonal one, since, well, Sam was a big guy. In your own trance you hadn’t noticed how Sam was also looking at you like you were a beautiful piece of art – damn it, focus.

You also cleared your throat and that seemed to wake Sam up. “Hello Sam, Dean” You said, nodding to each “Shall we go inside? The longer we take the further the killer goes, come on” You turned your back to the and started walking inside the morgue. Dean waited until you walked further and held Sam by the elbow, making the youngest look at him in confusion.

“Stop that” Dean whisper-yelled.

“Stop what” Sam whispered back.

“Whatever your eyes are doing, I’m gonna puke if you keep that up”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You stop it, you’re reading too much into it”

“Hey, you are the one that said she might be dangerous and, honestly, you are kind of a monsterfu-”

“Dean!” Sam pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“C’mon you were hypnotized, maybe that’s what she does, or you are just in love” Dean shrugged his shoulders, holding back a grin. He loved making Sam mad.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go now or do you have any other stupid remarks?” Sam didn’t wait for an answer as he followed the direction you went in. Dean mocked his brother, mimicking Sam’s words to himself in a high pitched tone and went along.

You were already putting your gloves on when they came into the room, the dead bodies laying before you - or at least what was left of them. The lower part of the couple’s bodies was covered beneath the pale blue blankets and both torsos were exposed. It was an awful sight and, if you were about ten years younger, you would’ve puked. Everything was dilacerated, they were practically disfigured, their faces barely recognizable. Huge gashes adorned their bodies that even cleaned up still looked absolutely vile. Behind you, Dean hissed.

“Wow” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, very brutal, whoever did this wanted them to feel the pain” You said, snapping the latex gloves against your wrist and grabbing the file about the autopsy in your hands. You skimmed through the words and placed it back on the table where it previously was, turning back to the bodies to see Sam already looking through them, Dean putting on the blue gloves the mortuary offered. You approached Sam’s side and crossed your arms as you watched him work, his hands roaming through the deep rips on the skin, he seemed to come to the same conclusion you did. “It’s not a clean cut, see” You pointed out and he nodded, turning to you.

“Yeah, the skin is–”

“Ripped, not cut” You paused “How can someone do this and just…get on with their lives?” You thought out loud. You discreetly looked up to Sam’s face to see if he had any reaction to your words, to see if his face faltered when you mentioned how psychotic it would be to keep going after killing someone, to see something, anything…

His face was blank.

“You’d be shocked at what…people can do” Sam replied. He seemed to hesitate before saying ‘people’, a hard swallow, a thought behind his eyes and you marked that in your mind for later.

“Sam, I work in the FBI too you know, I’ve seen shit” Maybe you were harsh, maybe you were just defensive or maybe the years of being brought down by men in your field made you snap at his words when they weren’t that deep. He seemed to catch on to your aggressiveness and stumbled over his words to try and reword his phrase.

“No– I-I know it’s just– I mean–” He couldn’t get the words out. You softened at that, noticing your defensiveness was, in fact, exaggerated. You chuckled at him and waved your hand dismissively.

“I get what you meant” You said and he seemed to calm down, giving you a slight smile. Dimples. Again. You turned back to the bodies in front of you and reached for your pocket to get your notes. You started patting with your other hand for your pen through the other pockets and when you didn’t feel the distinctively cylindrical shape of the object you started to freak out. Where’d I leave it…

Sam noticed your squirming and when he saw the notebook in your hand he knew exactly what you were looking for. He held back a chuckle as he watched you try your hardest to remember where the pen was, the concentration in your eyes almost touchable.

“Hey” Sam called and you turned your head to him. He reached his hand up, close to your cheek and you could sense the heat radiating from his body. You froze in place as you thought that you were caught, that Sam’s intelligence overpowered yours and he figured out that you knew who he was. Well, you were wrong. Sam caught the pen you had put behind your ear between his fingers and slid it off of it, watching as your hair fell back into place. You wanted to bury yourself whole inside the ground as you felt heat spread through your face. “Here” He said, with a cheeky smile.

You took the pen out of his hand, your fingers brushing lightly against each other “Thanks” You mumbled. You started writing away what you figured from the autopsy but you couldn’t get your mind off of how close Sam had gotten. The warmth that he emitted was captivating, comforting even. How could you even think that? You were a professional, what the hell! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you had a job to do, lives to save. Sam was a killer, you put killers in jail. That’s it.

“Okay so…” Dean spoke up, breaking your embarrassment “...We can discard any murder with weapons like guns or knives, those can’t do…this” He made a face and pointed towards the wounds. You nodded in agreement as you wrote it down. When you looked up at them again they were sharing a look, having a full conversation without even speaking. You weren’t a professional in facial expressions but you could read the room, you were being kept in the dark about something. You decided against confronting them, unneeded drama in the current settings because, indeed, the longer you took to solve this case, the closer the killer was to killing other people.

“So, I have no idea if you already did but I didn’t look further in the room where the murder happened. I think I’m going to go back to the house and see if the local cops missed anything” You said, not waiting for an answer as you pocketed your notebook again and started taking off your gloves. You didn’t request their company as you were, first, still trying to figure out why they were so adamant about solving this case, second, you had to figure this murder out, and third, you needed to find a perfect moment to confront both of them. “See you around agents”

“See ya” Dean waved at you as you walked away, Sam didn’t say anything. You knew they were going to follow you, you felt their silent conversations lingering in the air as you left the room, discarding your gloves. In your head you could see them communicating with lifting eyebrows and shrugging shoulders – they were so obvious; and predictable.

–

“We are going after her” Sam said to Dean after he heard you leave. Dean nodded as he started taking off his own gloves, side eyeing his brother. Dean wasn’t stupid – he only acted like it – he knew that there was more than one reason for Sam’s eagerness to follow you.

“So…” He started and Sam knew there was something he might not like hearing coming. “Are you going to play the brave soldier saving the damsel in distress?”

Sam stopped and looked at Dean, absolute confusion adorning his features. “What?”

“Man c’mon, you can’t be thinking that she is the monster now can you? Look, I did the tests while you were…pining over her” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean didn’t let him speak. “There was holy water in her drink at the diner, the utensils she was using were pure silver…”

Sam was shocked that his brother thought that quickly, he didn’t even notice…Okay, maybe he was infatuated by you a little too much.

“She could be a ghoul,” Sam argued as a last resort.

“Already looked her up, no one that has that beautiful face has died around here. I’ve looked through the FBI database too, she’s there” Dean said. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest bit of relief knowing that you were really human. You were, in fact, beautiful, stunning even. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he did like you, a lot.

“Guess I owe you that six pack then” Sam said.

“Hey, I get the six pack, you get the girl, seems like a fair trade” Dean said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly with a cheeky smile on his face. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Either way, we have to go after her because if this ghost decides she’s next on its list, we need to get there before she gets hurt” Sam said in all seriousness as he started walking out of the room, going towards the exit. Dean followed suit, the Impala keys already on his hand.

–

They arrived at the house a minute or two after you. You were waiting in the house’s living room as you heard the rumbling of the old car’s engine. You had your weapon ready and loaded as you heard them open and close the door of the house. As soon as they turned the corner, you lifted your gun.

“Stay right fucking there! Don’t you dare move or else I’ll actually kill you, for good this time!” You screamed at them, gun in hand pointed towards Dean’s head. They widened their eyes and stopped all their movement. Sam opened his mouth to try and talk and you shifted the gun to point at him instead. He shut his mouth again and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You were fuming, anger making your hands shake lightly.

“Did you really think you were going to fool me? Who do you think you are– Better, who do you think I am?” They stood as still as a rock. “Sam and Dean Winchester” You said their names, venom running through your tongue as you did, your gun pointing respectively at each. “You better start talking or I’m popping your heads off, speak!”

“Okay, okay, look we can explain” Sam started.

“You fucking better”

“We are not dead” He said and you looked at him like he was stupid. “Me and my brother we faked our deaths but we had a reason, a much bigger reason”

“You killed people”

“We didn’t, at least not intentionally, we do the exact opposite, we save people Y/N”

“How? The deaths are there, if you are telling me the truth and really save people you do a terrible job at that” You countered. You admitted you only said this to get under their skin because if anyone knew that saving everyone was impossible was you, a federal agent.

“Put the gun down and we can talk” Dean spoke up, talking to you calmly and moving his hands slowly to try and reason with you. You were reluctant but something in their eyes, their actions towards you didn’t indicate any imminent danger. Maybe you were being stupid and, at the end, you’d be lying in a ditch, lifeless, left there to rot but you wanted to give them a chance.

“If you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands” You said and Dean, even shocked, nodded slowly – you were exaggerating but you felt the need to. You sighed and put your gun back in the waistband of your pants and saw the boys breathe in a deep breath of relief.

Sam and Dean exchanged those looks again and finally looked at you. Sam was the one you wanted to talk to, you felt deep, deep down that he was going to tell you the truth and that he was actually a good guy, that all that he did until now wasn’t just an act and he was really nice.

“Me and Dean we…We hunt monsters”

Well, now your hopes are shattered. What the fuck.

You just looked at him like he was clinically insane and waited for him to continue.

“I know it sounds crazy” Because it is “And it probably is but it’s the truth, we don’t think whatever killed that couple was a human, this is why there’s no DNA, not a single clue and why the case is hard. I assume you were assigned it because you are smart and a good agent but this is not your kind of case”

“It’s ours” Dean added and Sam agreed with a nod.

You were dumbfounded. They sounded so serious as they explained to you about the tons of different supernatural beings that existed, things you only ever heard of in fictional books and horror movies. Halfway through the talk you looked physically sick, your face pale and eyes dissociated completely and Sam quickly got a chair, ushering you to sit down. He was looking at you with such a guilty expression, like he felt bad for lying to you.

Once they stopped talking you spent a good five minutes absorbing it all as you stared at your hands folded over your lap. You thought you knew things, you thought you could solve everything, that all you needed to do was analyze everything to its minute details and you’d find a solution. Truth is, you were completely oblivious all this long, so many things that you had no idea existed causing trouble around the world, things worse than humans could ever be. You were an idiot.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked after a while, making you look up at him. “I know it’s a lot to process…” He said, carefully laying a hand over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m going to be fine” You said harshly. Sam felt the slight disappointment in your voice and frowned as he looked down at you. He had seen tons of different reactions to ‘the talk’ but this one was one of the worst, where the person feels upset with themselves for not knowing about this sooner, the kind of reaction he saw mostly on authority figures such as cops and federal agents like yourself.

You stood up and his hand fell from your shoulder. You needed to make this right, paranormal or not, this was still your case and you were solving it one way or another.

“Show me how you do it” You said, turning to look at Sam. The phrase got Dean’s attention as well as a sudden tension fell upon the room. Sam looked at you with confusion “This case is still mine, I want to learn how to get rid of…whatever killed that couple”

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. “I don’t think this is a good idea Y/N, you can get hurt” He said. You rolled your eyes and stepped closer to him, less than a foot between the two of you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m a federal agent, you don’t get to tell me I’m going to get hurt when I literally hunt and kill people if needed” You said angrily pointing your finger at him accusingly “Your little Ghostbusters roleplay doesn’t scare me”

“Okay, can you two stop? Let’s get out of here and go study about the house to see if we find anything about someone who died here who might want revenge” Dean said, approaching and looking between the two of you. “Please”

–

After spending two hours in the nearby library you finally found something. The one responsible for the killings was someone named Alicia Meadows who died in the late 60s, not little kids – it seemed like even the own urban legend the locals passed around was wrong. She was a woman who lived in that house with her husband and kids. One night she found her husband in their bed with another woman and went crazy, killing them both with a shotgun and then shooting herself. Ever since then she’d been killing couples who stayed there, the trauma of the cheating made her assume that everyone who laid in that bed on the same date, every two years, she found her husband and his mistress was also having an affair.

You three soon found out where she was buried and, after the brothers explained to you and made you swear not to arrest them for grave violation, you were driving to the cemetery.

As Dean was digging up the casket you stood beside Sam. “Do you guys do this everyday?”

Sam looked at you with a smile. “No, sometimes we behead vampires too”

You looked at him wide eyed and chuckled. He laughed with you, his face looking ten times more beautiful under the moonlight and the fucking dimples, the damn dimples. Silence fell between you as the sounds of the night – and Dean’s digging – took over. You wanted to talk more, you wanted to know more about Sam because the little you thought you knew was actually a lie. He was nice and, according to the FBI files…

“You went to law school?” You asked him. He sighed. Well damn Y/N so much for breaking the ice, good job. 

“I did but…I went back to hunting soon after, you can’t run from this type of job you know?” He chuckled dryly. It was clear that was a sensitive subject for him to talk about.

“If it helps, you would’ve made a good lawyer” You smiled at him. “Besides, you look great in a suit”

He seemed stunned for a few seconds, were you flirting with him? He didn’t get to figure out because Dean made a dramatic pained sound as he straightened his back, breaking the casket open. The putrid smell of death rose and you scrunch your nose. Sam helped Dean get out of the hole and started showering the bones in alcohol and salt and you watched as Dean threw his lighter in making huge flames rise up. You jumped when it happened out of shock and Sam held your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back, the flames roared loudly with what seemed to be the anger of the woman.

Dean started gathering their stuff and you turned to Sam. “So, is this it?”

“Yeah…pretty simple actually” Sam shrugged. He looked at the fire and you could see the flames dancing in his eyes. You found Sam handsome ever since you laid your eyes on him but now, after a whole day by his side, the light touches you shared throughout the day and the care he showed towards you you wondered if it’d be too bad if you kissed him right now.

“Sam” You called him lowly and he turned to you. You stepped closer and you could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you. Your faces were inches apart and you could now see every little detail about him. The light stubble that adorned his face and the blush of red in his cheeks that you didn’t know if it was because of the heat of the fire or because you were this close.

You smiled at him and in that moment Sam couldn’t hold himself back. He closed the distance between the two of you as one of his hands cradled your cheek and the other was gently placed on your waist.

You let one of your hands place itself on his neck as you reciprocated the kiss. It was electric and warm, his soft lips over yours felt like a sweetness you didn’t know you were craving to taste. Your heart was beating fast and Sam slowly dragged your body closer to his with the help of the hand he placed on your waist.

When you pulled away you slowly opened your eyes to look straight into his and let out a stupid giggle – like a teenager after kissing her crush. Sam chuckled back as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I've wanted to do this ever since the diner” He admitted and you bit back a smile.

“Really?” You asked.

“Really”

The moment was interrupted when Dean honked the Impala, impatiently waiting for you two to finish whatever you were doing so he could go back to the room and finally sleep. Sam showed him the finger as Dean yelled a curse back making you laugh at their stupid teasing.

“Let’s go Sam, Dean’s impatient. We can finish our talk at the motel” You said, your words full of innuendo making Sam turn back to you. You knew you got him when you felt his hand squeeze your waist for a moment before letting go.

“Oh yeah?” He said with a grin, looking down at your mouth and back at your eyes. You nodded.

“Yeah”

A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[mrhyde-mrseek]

A little message from me and Hermes:

DON’T BE AFRAID TO SET BOUNDARIES WITH YOUR DEITIES.

And yes, there is a story to go along with it below the cut.

Basically what happened is I was doing my daily tarot session where I go around and ask each of the gods I work with what message they have for me today. I also have a job interview on Friday that, until this day, my cards have been hinting will go well (and I really hope saying this doesn’t jinx it).

Today, however, I kept getting the opposite; basically they were telling me that the interview would turn out poorly and I wouldn’t get the job. I was obviously surprised, but before I could fall any further into an anxiety spiral, I asked the cards if someone was messing with them. Turns out it was none other than our favorite prankster, Hermes, fucking with me again.

I don’t think he meant any harm by it. He was just having a bit of fun. But unlike when I gave him his candle, this joke wasn’t funny. I need a job before college, and I REALLY want this one to turn out well, so his messing with the cards scared me and made my anxiety spike.

I told him that his joke wasn’t funny and I wanted him to stop. I then put out a rule to all the gods I work with that they are not allowed to mess with the cards like that again. I got the sense that they all agreed, even Hermes. I forgave him, but I was still upset.

Later, I started to feel guilty for being angry with a god of all beings, and I tried to apologize to Hermes and make it clear that I had forgiven him. Just then, I got a VERY vivid image of him gripping my shoulders and telling me that it’s okay to be mad and I didn’t need to apologize for it. HE was in the wrong, not me. It’s okay to set boundaries as to what’s okay and what’s not within your practice when people (or gods) hurt or upset you.

👏SET 👏 HEALTHY 👏 BOUNDARIES 👏 WITH 👏 YOUR 👏 GODS 👏