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bakugohoex · 4 years

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hey😝😝🙇‍♀️ i love ur fics sm ur writing is so good oml🤭🤭🤭🤭 can i request a jean fic where they go out and jean Likes(😏) her outfit and then semi-public sex idkidk do with that what u will😌😌 TY and remember to drink water😌🥰🥰🥰

“get in the fucking back, now”

pairing: jean kirchstein x female reader

cw: modern au, fluff, language, nsfw (female receiving oral, exhibitionism, degradation, praise, nipple play, biting, fucking (obvs), dacryphillia, dumbification and breeding), kissing and jealousy

word count: 2800+

a/n: thank you for this request and i will make sure to drink hella water, @katsuhera for out midnight simping and thinking of these kinks and ideas also i have a platonic aizawa request coming out later on so hopefully you guys enjoy them both

summary: in which you and jean meet up for a date, instead of the coffee and cakes you find yourself in an empty car pack, bound in the back of his car ready to have his way with you

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The smell of fresh coffee and cake filled the room, Jean sat on one of the corner tables playing on his phone as he waited for you to come. You had both agreed to meet after your lectures having not seen each other since yesterday.

You both were needy, needing to at least see each other once a day to be content. It was bad enough both your schedules had fucked your time together, but your friends always seemed to drag you both away from each other.

Finally finding time for a proper date and not just going to each other’s apartments to cuddle and watch movies. Which you had to say was an amazing date in itself. But wanting to spend the afternoon together felt just how your relationship had been. I'm the first couple of months together.

He heard the ring of the door to your favourite cafe, as he watched you on the phone with someone. You spotted him giving him a wave, but his eyes had turned to something else. The skirt you wore, the short black skirt that pressed against your ass and thighs, the way that it squeezed your whole body. It made his head go wild and worst of all the long-sleeved shirts you wore in the spring heat had a low cut allowing all eyes to fixate on the curvature of your breasts in your white bra.

You had put the phone down walking up to the bot with a smile, seeing a server ready to come and ask you what you wanted. But Jean had an inkling the male server would be looking at you a lot more than he should be.

“Sorry, I’m late, our professor kept us longer to talk about an assignment.” You leaned over kissing his cheek, his eyes not daring to look down to see your breasts.

He had missed the simple feeling of your lips on his cheek, even if he had felt it yesterday. “That’s fine, I wasn't waiting long, who was on the phone?”

You had perched yourself on the chair skimming through the menu as he looked at you. Almost admiring his girl, the way his head was planted against his hand just watching how perfect you were.

“Oh, my mum wanted to ask if we’re still okay to come round on Saturday.” He nodded already knowing how your mum had been begging to see the boy who she already considered her son in law.

“Eren brought another fuck round last night.” You muttered unamusingly, you both ended up just talking about the events of this morning. You explained how your mutual friend Eren had brought what seemed like the fifth girl this week back to your shared apartment. You and Eren had been friends for a while and becoming roommates seemed like the best bet when you both had first been let free all those years ago. The idea of moving in with Jean had come up and you knew by the end of the year you’d both finally have your own place together.

“Eren doesn’t tell me shit about who he fucks, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable right?” Jean leant backwards on his seat eyeing you up again, you shook your head having gotten used to it and knowing Eren had had to handle you and Jean fucking before. “What made you wear this then?”

He needed to know if you were purposely making him hard or if it was just by sheer chance. “Why? Don't you like it?”

“Quite the opposite, baby, i think we all liked it.” He spoke the last part in a whisper watching as the server had come up to you both.

“What can I get you both?” He questioned eyes fixated on you alone.

Jean rolled his eyes, hating how others were looking at what was his. “We should share the pancakes, I’m not that hungry but I want some.”

“Pick whatever you want baby” He looked coldly to the man; your hand had been resting across the table as he grabbed it softly. You smiled at the action before putting the menu down and looking at the server.

“Can we get some chocolate pancakes and two coffees?” You asked politely, even in the outfit that looked like you’d just come out from a night out you were ever so respectful.

“Anything else…” Jean had interrupted due to having been ignored throughout the whole encounter.

“No.” The server left, and you went back to Jean.

You remembered his question and began explaining the events of this morning. “This dickhead ran into me with coffee so i had to wear whatever i could find in my bag.”

“You just happen to have a tight skirt and low-cut shirt in your bag.” He chuckled watching you gleam out to him.

You pout at his teasing before continuing, “it’s for special occasions.”

“Aww, is this a special occasion.” Jean teased again.

“I hate you.”

Jeans grip around your fingers tightened, “shouldn’t I be the one hating you, coming in here looking like that, how could any man not want you?”

“Jean.” You whispered slowly.

He checked his watch, he wanted something else, something more from you and prayed that you both would eat quickly so he could let himself have you. “What do you want to do afterwards?” You questioned just as the food arrived, the same server lingering trying to hear the conversation.

“I have some ideas in mind.” Jean smirked out as he took a fork and started eating the food.

“Ooo tell me?” You pleaded hating being kept in the dark.

He looks at the server who remained close by, “walking in wearing that, what else could it be?”

Your eyes widened at the thought that your outfit could really have caused him to get this horny. “Where?”

“Don’t worry about that baby, you eat your food like a good girl.” You didn’t speak, taking a bite of the chocolate, Jean watched as you licked your lips from the stray syrup, for a man with a horny girlfriend it seemed like he had finally reached your level of horny.

He understood all those nights he’d come home wearing a shirt and trousers. How in an instant you’d be on him, due to being, in your own words a sex god he hadn’t realised but you riled him up the same way he did too you.

“Jean.” You had been repeating his name to get him out of his trance. You were hiding a lot more than he had realised, at his previous words a slick had formed between your walls and worst of all there was a lot more limited clothes then Jean realised.

He looked up meeting your seductive gaze, “yes baby.”

“Come closer.” You beckoned, he obliged feeling his trousers tighten at how you moved forward. This time his eyes grazed your chest, seeing through your bra at the already hardened nipples. Your breath fanned his neck before you went to his ear, “the coffee went through my jeans, i didn’t have any spare underwear.”

His breath hitched, feeling himself unable to talk at what you had just said. You were bare between the skirt, the thought that you had been walking with your cunt on show. Worst of all he knew that if you were as horny as he would, the slick would be seeping down your thighs. “Get up.”

“But-” You were interrupted by him grabbing your hand.

“We’re going now.” He looked at the server who looked between the two of you. “How much is it?”

Jean was in a hurry; he passed the credit card impatiently tapping at where the register was. He could see eyes fixated on you, he hated how empty the place had been, with mainly uni students coming through. But in this moment the way their eyes seemed to undress you, he hated it and now knowing the extra information all he wanted to do was show you who you belonged to.

The server passed the card back. Jean in an instant pulled you out of the cafe, he walked ahead as you had been pacing yourself quicker to even keep up with the taller boy. “You’re lucky I brought my car.” He muttered as you went to the underground car park.

There were barely any cars, being the afternoon and people still at work, the parking lot seemed more secluded than you had ever realised. Being at the furthest end, Jean looked at you seeing how you pulled your skirt down. “No point doing that now, baby, everybody already saw that pretty cunt of yours.” He mocked before unlocking his car.

“Get in the fucking back, now.” He had opened the door, waiting for you to get in. With your back across the backseats, you were in perfect view of his own body.

He moved inside the car, locking the door and car behind him. It was in these moments you were glad he had tinted windows. He gave a smirk watching as you sat upright, one leg beside his body and the other dangling to the ground. “Spread those legs.”

You moved your leg to go onto his shoulders, feeling how his hands moved the skirt up to your hips. Your cunt dripping in wetness for his mouth to devour. “Baby.” It was muffled from your end as his hands had gripped your thighs.

His fingers leaving indents, his mouth bite at your inner thigh. The feeling of the speckles of his hair on his face brushing against your thighs before you felt him closer and closer to your clit. “If you touch me, I’m going to stop.” It was a punishment for showing yourself off, it was a punishment, but he knew it masked the reward of being eaten out.

“Yes, Sir.” You breathed out heavily. The feeling of his hairs across your thighs sent a shock wave, his tongue gliding across your clit tasting and feeling the slick in his mouth.

He groaned at the taste of your wet cunt, his tongue doing laps inside of your blushed cunt. His hand had travelled to your shirt having pulled it to reveal your breasts in the bra, his hand went underneath groping your left boob as his mouth was at work.

“Baby…I…” You could barely think with the feeling of him giving you so much pleasure. The way his mouth would leave soft kisses against your cunt before he went back in with his tongue.

He had told you after the first time you both had slept together how much he enjoyed eating you out. How much he loved the feeling of your cunt across his lips. He needed to feel your cum in his mouth and how it had become a mission to always eat you out before fucking you.

“Such a dirty little girl, getting this wet.” His breath was heavy, but he wanted more, pressing further into your cunt, his tongue swirling inside, the saliva mixing with your slick. His chin grazed your inner thighs, you always loved the feeling of the hairs brushing against your body. Often grabbing his chin when you both kissed just to feel the hairs brush against your palm.

“I...I...cum.” You could barely form words through the moans and groans that filled the car.

“Cum in my mouth baby, let me taste you all.” He whispered his hot breath against your cunt as he continued to lap his tongue in your folds. His hand had been moving along with his tongue, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples.

“Jean.” You gave a final moan feeling yourself climax at the sheer power his tongue had inside of you. Cum dripped from his mouth, you saw him lick his lips to get rid of the cum that encased his lips.

“Such a good little cumslut, want me to fuck you now?” He teased already undoing his belt, your legs remained above his shoulders, but in a quick instant he moved them to his side waiting for your answer.

“Please, fuck me sir.” Tears had welled up in your eyes, the feeling of his tongue making your cunt throb for more. How could he resist those tears, the mascara dripping down to leave a black stain down your cheeks.

He gave a cocky grin, letting his belt fall to the ground before taking the hoodie he had worn off. The way his trousers were kicked to the front seat and he was left for you to admire sent a sensation through your body. He removed your skirt entirely, leaving soft kisses up your thighs to your stomach, before taking the shirt and pulling it over your head. “My pretty little thing.” He toyed undoing your bra to let your breasts spill out.

His mouth attached to your right nipple, his left hand still massaging the other. You felt him swirl his tongue against the hardened tit, arching your back to make more of your breast fit inside of his mouth. “Baby, fuck me please.” You were out of breath and could feel his hardened cock brush against your thigh.

“Are you begging, slut?” He moved his mouth to your neck, his hot breath fanning your breath waiting for an answer.

You looked down your hands moving to his hair and back, “please Sir.”

He smirked cockily, pulling his boxers down, letting his cock curve upwards ready to skim it past your folds. His hand lazily pumped back and forth to get him harder before you felt him direct his cock between your clit, sliding up and down your cum filled hole, “Je...Jean.”

“Come on baby, moan my name for me.” Your hands had reached for his hair pulling him towards your face.

“Jean.” You gave a lewd moan into his ear before feeling his cock slam into your velvety walls.

“You’re so tight even after I've gotten you to cum.” He mutters feeling suffocated within your walls. He brought his body down onto your own, your legs by his side as he began to move out of your cunt in a slow pace.

“Faster.” You breathed out.

“Sluts, don’t get an opinion.” He wanted to edge you till you felt dumb, he wanted to see those tears and watch as you begged for more. He may have moved slowly out but the noise of you moaning in his hair and pulling at his hair had made his slam into you quicker. He repeated it a couple times before seeing how your chest heaved under him, his bite marks cascading across your boobs and neck. You looked bruised and broken but the moans and look of your eyes rolling back had made him realise just how much you loved it.

With a quickened pace, he felt himself go deeper and deeper inside of your cunt, the cum that had been left inside of you, helping him slide back and forth. “Doing such a good job, baby.”

The praise was something Jean always came back too, the first time you both fucked you were unable to walk just at the sheer size of his cock. He knew to always praise you for doing so well with him, to make sure you knew that you could use his cock however you wanted too. “I… love you.” It was muffled through how Jean and you had been face to face, his mouth across your jaw, feeling the wetness still around his chin and face.

Looking into your eyes at the comment, he saw how truly in love he was, even with the quickened pace of him fucking you raw, you truly were in love with the man. “I love you too.” He spoke capturing your lips with his own, you had missed his mouth on your own. His tongue sucked on its own, allowing for more of your cum to mix inside of your mouth, you could feel yourself coil up inside, ready to orgasm for a second time.

He could see how your hands had stopped tugging as forcefully on his hair, how your nails had stopped scratching his back and instead skimmed across his skin. “You going to cum for me.”

“Ye…” You could barely speak at his pace increasing, wanting to fuck all the cum out of you in a matter of seconds. His mouth went to your neck, hand moving to take your own, he felt your fingers lace between your own as he sucked on the skin.

“Cum for me.” He ordered feeling you gush on top of his blushed cock, he felt himself cum from the feeling of being able to slide even more into your body, feeling his cum shoot inside of you. A bulge being prominent through your stomach of being filled up, “such a good girl.”

He kissed the top of your head with praise, sweat and cum filling the car, you only nodded unable to speak at the pleasure you had just encountered. He took you in his hands, letting you lean against his body. Moving the strands of hair that stuck to your body, he looked at how pretty you looked, even with the dishevelled hair and cum seeping out from your sore cunt. You looked as pretty as always, his pretty girl.

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undeadimmortality · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Part 2

Not really chapters, just super long parts to the story.

Hey, smut ahead!!! I’m bad at writing smut so felt right, but might delete later, idkidk. Fluff too! Is alcohol consumption a warning??

Weeks turned to months, and things started to change for the better, as well as the worst. Your time in the bunker was great. You were getting pretty close to Sam and Dean, even Castiel at times, but he always kept a mental distance. After a lot of late night talks, you had opened up about your past and they had opened up about theirs too. You could tell the boys took to caring about you, and you cared about them deeply. Even with everything that had started this relationship, you’d never had anyone who cared for you a single day in your life until you got to know Sam and Dean. Even in the short time of knowing them, you knew they were great men, and would genuinely try to keep you alive if they could.

There were demon omens coming from a town close to the bunker, and the boys decided to check it out. Leaving Castiel to look over you, while they were away for a day or two. This was the first time they’d decided to act on any sort of hunt since they found you, figuring it’d be safer to keep a low profile until they figure out this Lucifer issue. But, with demons possibly this close to the bunker, finding out why they were there was the safest bet.

They’d been gone the whole day, and after no replies to your texts you started to worry. A glass of whiskey in one hand and your cell in the other, Castiel watched as you paced back and forth for a good hour, deep in thought.

“Maybe you should check on them, Cass. They aren’t texting back.” You walked over to the angel, and sat next to him, opening your texts again.

“We have a plan in place, (y/n). It’s safer if I stay here with you.” Castiel said.

“You still don’t trust me?” It was more of a statement, rather than a question.

Castiel turned his body toward you and placed his hand on your shaking knee. “On the contrary (y/n). I want to keep you safe. If I left, and something happened to you, I could never forgive myself.” You stared deeply into Cass’s eyes and saw emotion there that you hadn’t caught before. You knew Castiel was indifferent toward you, and trusting at least, but maybe you had more of an impact on the Angel than you wanted to admit to yourself.

You sighed and stood to fill you now empty glass of liquor.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, I know we’ve been building up a friendship Cass, I’m just worried.” You talked as you fill your glass and walked back over to the Angel. “I’ve just never had people who were ever in any sort of danger because of me, especially you and the boys, who I’ve grown to care for. I don’t know how you do it. They’re constantly putting themselves in danger. I would’ve had a heart attack at this point if I were you.” The leather couch squeaked as you sat next to Cass.

He chuckled, “Angel’s can’t have heart attacks, but I understand your meaning” He smiled at you. The only light in the room were candles you had lit. The bunker was quiet aside from some music playing quietly.

You laughed at his response, returning the smile. The soft light of the bouncing flames gave a soft glow to Castiels face. His tan skin and almost matching caramel brown hair looked soft. Those ocean blue eyes of his vessel did weird things to your stomach as you stared into them. His light pink lips were stretched in to a soft, genuine smile and slightly met his eyes. You were sure you could both hear your heart rate picking up.

Castiel POV

Castiel watched (y/n) as she studied his face. It seemed as though she was seeing him in new eyes for the first time. Not just the Angel, but the vessel, the human side of Cass. Cass had died, been human, and lived in Jimmy’s vessel for years, but he hasn’t been Jimmy for a long-time. He was Castiel now.

Castiel studied (y/n) as a pink blush lit up her pale cheeks, and she looked down in to her drink, lips piercing in deep thought. He’d studied her enough now to know her common emotions. Her deep in thought brought on pieced lips, sometimes a light bite to her low lip, and a small crease between her eyes when her brows furrowed. Her happy, meant a bright smile that reached the eyes, a slight squint to her lids, and sparkle in her irises. When she wasn’t looking, he would catch himself staring. (y/n) was beautiful, it was plain as day. She had long, dark red hair that contrasted her soft pale skin. Her pale blue eyes matched his by just a shade paler. Her light pink lips held a feminine shape, the bottom lip slightly thicker than the top.

The guilt he felt for the way he treated her was unbearable, and little did she know, he felt the need to make up for it for as long as he lived.

When they held her captive, all he noticed was the evil that hid inside of her human soul. A bright red glow in her irises that was more evident when she was chained up. Her hatred, fear, and pain protected the rest of her that he has come to observe and see. With still no real knowledge on her or her power, all he had was his observations. Her soul was made up like a human one, but it was vastly different. A human soul usually had a colorful aura that radiated around the vessel, but (y/n)’s was much bigger. Almost the size of an Angel’s aura that radiated their grace. Her Aura could cover the whole country if you were to put it in a human perspective. A bright red glow that radiated a powerful energy. Her soul held all the makings of a human soul, but hers was torn and battered, like it was being ripped apart by the power that lay untouched at the core. It scared Castiel to no avail, she was nothing he had ever seen in the millennia he had spent between heaven and Earth. Yet he was drawn to her intensity. He’d seen the love and kindness she showed him and the brothers. Her little acts of kindness, like cooking, or tidying up after the boys every night before bed. Humming to the music as she folded their clothes. She put love and purpose into her actions. And in return was slowly stealing Castiels heart if he had one. He’d known love and intimacy in his experiences on Earth, but his pull toward (y/n) was leagues more intense. It scared Castiel, but his courage and excitement overpowered everything. He wasn’t going to let her go.

(y/n) cleared her throat and brought Castiel from his thoughts, now realizing he had been staring at her. Her cheeks were a shade pinker than before, and she looked up at Cass like she was waiting for him to break the silence.

Embarrassment covered his features, and all her managed was a “Sorry”, before (y/n)’s phone started to ring and broke the silence.

YOUR POV

You jumped at the sudden noise that broke your weird moment with Castiel. Deans name popped up, and you answered it on the first ring.

“Dean?” You asked, standing up quickly.

“Yeah it’s me, me and Sammy are alright, we’re heading back to the bunker now, it’s not safe to stay here tonight, I’ll explain when we get back. There better be beer left when I get back!”

“Okay, I’ll wait up. Also a found the bottle of whiskey you stashed, so your beers safe!” you joked, causing a line of slurs from the brute.

“They’re on their way back.” You sat back down, gulping down the last sip of your second drink. The alcohol wasn’t taking tonight, even with the call from Dean, a pit in your stomach started to grow, and left you feeling very uneasy.

“That’s good news” Cass said, “Allow me” He reached for your empty glass, and you handed it to him and watched as he made his way over to the whiskey bottle on the table.

“I’ve got a bad feeling, Cass. Like something bad’s about to happen.” You started, watching him walk back.

“We’re warded here, this is the safest place for you.” He handed you the glass, and sat down turning toward you again.

“It’s not that, it’s not for me, it’s like I have this feeling of dread. Like…He’s close…” You took another sip, cursing your nerves for keeping you more sober than usual after three glasses of whiskey. “I want you to promise me something” You looked up and met Cass’s eyes. “If he get’s to me and I can’t do it myself, I need you to do it.” You didn’t need to explain further, the dread that covered Castiels features said it all.

Cass took your empty hand, and covered it in both of his. “He will never get his hands on you as long as I live. I will protect you (y/n), as long as I’m alive.” Castiel said.

“I know, that’s what I’m afraid of. You and the boys, if you died trying to save me-“ You stopped, tears glossing over your eyes.

“It won’t come to that. Everything will be fine.” Castiel smiled, but you could tell he was trying to convince himself as well. You leaned your head on the Angels shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around your back, in hopes of soothing you. You stayed like that for a while, and only broke away when you heard the bunker door open and shut.

Dean and Sam spent the next hour going over the details of their trip. With the fear of tipping Lucifer off, they decided to keep their distance, and basically got that the demons were close to finding (y/n).

“The wards on the bunker most likely helped to an extent, but with no knowledge on the Child of Cain, were pretty sure they’re still able to track her, however faint a signal they get, we think they’re still getting something.

“No….”You whimpered. Standing up and pacing back and forth. “I have to run! If they are this close, I can lead them away form here! What other options do we have?”

“Not this one! You ‘re staying, end of story.” Dean growled.

“You we’re ready to kill me.” Tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. “Maybe…”

“Not happening” Sam glared at you, “We’ll figure something out we always do. You’re part of our family now (y/n), and we protect our own. There has to be something we missed. If (y/n)’s power is “sleeping” as Cass put it, maybe there’s a way to wake it.” Sam thought, glancing towards Cass for an answer.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start. Besides I’ve seen her power. I can feel it. It isn't just apart of her, it’s at the very core of her human soul…Her soul’s already tarnished and flayed, there’s a very little chance she’d survive her power waking up, or worse, turning (y/n) in to something worse than Lucifer. It’s not just power Sam, it’s holds the mark of Cain, there’s no telling what would happen.” Castiel explained, deep in thought.

“My soul…it’s broken?” This was the first you’ve heard of this.

Castiel casts you a pitiful look. “Not broken (y/n), it’s still intact, but your power is at the source of your human soul, and it’s ripped and torn to shreds. The only thing holding it together is you. If you let that power out, I truly don’t know what would happen to you. I’m sorry”

Silence swept through the room, and you paced some more chugging down the third glass of liquor and went to pour a fourth. The only option you could see that got rid of the Devil once and for all, and left the boys and Castiel alive, was somehow finding a way to unleash your power on the Lucifer. If Castiel was right about how strong you truly wore, you were confident you could give the Devil a taste of his own medicine. The only options you saw were, continuing to run, and let the Devil run loose to kill more innocent people, kill yourself and still allow Lucifer to live, or kill the Devil yourself and take yourself down in the process. The choice was easy.

A few weeks went by, but with the wards holding strong, the Demons were only a town closer to the bunker and Castiel had secretly planted some false signals to keep them off your trail for as long as possible.

“It’s late” You stopped in your tracks, as his voice filled the silence. You’d seen a lot less of him lately, as he was out more and more trying to lead the Demons astray.

“Couldn’t sleep” You continued to walk through the library, running your fingertips over the spines of the dusty old books, a glass of whiskey in the other hand.

The tension in the bunker was almost overwhelming. After trying to flee a few different times, to no success. The boys came and went, looking for answers to anything that could give you the upper hand in the inevitable war that would soon unfold. You hadn’t been outside of the bunker in months, and it was taking it’s toll. The bunker that once held a state of content, not felt claustrophobic. You felt helpless being forced to stay here, while others put their lives at risk to help you.

You made your way over to the table, and popped the the cap off the liquor, and filled you glass halfway.

“(y/n).” His voice was soft and pleading. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and gently turned you to face him.

He looked tired, same as you. His demeaner slightly slouched from trying his hardest to lure the demons as far away from you as he could , no doubt.

“Have you heard from the Sam and Dean? They didn’t check in tonight.” You asked, bringing the glass to your lips.

“They’re fine, they’re about a day out with more research about The Mark of Cain. Sam’s hopeful about this research.”

“That’s good.” You’re eye’s only left Cass’s when you took another sip of you drink. And then back up.

Castiel grabbed the glass from your hand, and you let him. He set it on the table behind you, and with the same hand he pushed a few stray strands of hair behind your ear and cupped your check. You breathing hitched and his fingers sent sparks through your veins. His hand was soft and warm, and you reached up to cup yours over his, turning your head to place a kiss in his palm.

You’re feelings for the angel had grown immensely since the night you two had a moment on the couch, but both of you were never this forward about your affections with everything else going on. You were falling deeply in love with the feathered man, but as the Child of Cain, you never knew why he returned your affections.

You turned back forward, eyes meeting Cass’ and he swept his thumb over your bottom lip. His eyes were giving away his desperation for you. After moments of silence that seems to last an eternity, Cass leaned forward, painfully slow, eyes never leaving yours, before both your eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed against yours.

Both of you were unaware of the fate that was unfolding tonight.

The kiss sent shivers through your body, his lips were so warm and so soft. It was light at first; passionate and innocent, but a need for you unleashed inside of Castiel, and his hand moved through your hair to the back of your head, and lightly pulled your head to the side, so he could deepen the kiss. A small moan escaped you lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You could feel his arousal press against your stomach.

Castiel was the first to break, as he swiftly gripped both your thighs, lifted you up, and carried you over to the couch. He sat down, and placed both your legs on either side of his and ran his hands up your sides, then your back, never braking eye contact. Your breath hitched as he gently pulled you in you in for another kiss, allowing your hands to roam freely over his chest. You arousal started to build, and a small grind of your hips along his arousal earned you a moan from Castiel that lit your spark.

His smell and taste mixed with yours was intoxicating. He smelt of fresh air mixed with a sweet musk, and his taste along with yours, and the lingering whiskey left your head in the clouds.

His kiss was getting sloppy, and your arousal was at it’s peak. As you started to unbutton his shirt, Castiel waved his hand and all your clothes were off, leaving his arousal to press against your sex. He broke from the kiss, your breathing becoming labored with lust, and held both sides of your faces, fingers tangled I your hair.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching for the answer in your eyes.

“I want this, Cass.” You reached up and cupped his cheek. “I want you.”

Castiel reached down and gripped your hips, lifting your up, allowing him to line up with your entrance. His pulled you down slowly, his member stretching you to the point of pure bliss. The feeling was more intense than anything you’d both had ever felt. Castiels eyes squeezed shut, his mouth hanging open, a small moan escaping your lips, as he filled you up and stopped when you reached his hilt. The pleasure was so intense it took you a moment to get your bearings before your body ached for more friction. You started off slow, lifting up, and sinking back down on to Castiel. A knot in your stomach started to build, closer and closer, as you started to build up speed. You moans matching his, his grace shining brightly through his irises and yours shined through yours. A bright red, but not evil. You, as a being was shining through, two divine beings both human and supernatural, sharing this moment in pure bliss. Love radiating off your naked bodies.

As swiftly as before, Castiel lifted you up and placed you on your back, never breaking rhythm, he met your eyes, then lips, and then a string of kisses, down your neck, earning his name that spilled from your lips. His rhythm gaining speed, and becoming more frantic, and you both built to your releases. You name and a slur of phrases left his lips. His name escaping yours, as your moans grew louder and longer, giving him the know that you were close. One more thrust, and all the tension released, pure bliss exploded from the inside out, bringing you to heaven. You tightness clenched around Castiel, and your release brought him to the peak of his, both of your meeting eachother on the other side of bliss. The moment only last seconds but felt like they lasted years. Sooner than you wanted, you came back down, reality taking you back in its clutch. Castiel sank down next you, your breathing and heartbeat breaking the silence.

You looked up toward Castiel, him already looking down at you, a content smile gracing your eyes. You wanted to and tell him, but the moment didn’t need words, he already knew, and you knew he felt the same way. You graced him a your own smile and lifted his hand to place a small kiss in his palm. You both laid together, happily content being in each others arms, Castiel had waved his hand once more, and both of you were cleaned up and clothed. The night was late, and the candle flames were dying out, bringing the room close to darkness. Everything around you was perfectly set, and your worries would have to wait until tomorrow as your lids drew heavy and sleep soon took over as you lay in Castiels arms.

#castiel x reader #castiel fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #castiel #supernatural imagine

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rainbowgraffiti · 7 years

Text

Put All These Pieces Back Together

// requested by anonymous: HI U R SUCH A GOOD WRITER I CRY okay could u possibly do a Peter Parker x reader where the reader has a crush on Peter but she doesn't know if he likes her and she used to have an eating disorder & one day they're @ a party and her drunk friend says something about her not eating today or something and Peter overhears and takes her aside and asks if she's okay and like comforts her idkIDK like maybe angst at first but then super cute by the end IDK THANKS SO MUCH ILY

// a/n: oml i feel so loved, thank you so much for the praise!! i’m so, so sorry this took so long to get up, i had a massive, unshakable case of writer’s block. i hope i did okay... it’s sort of cheesy but hopefully you’ll like it anyway. thanks for the request and the love <3 enjoy!!

// character: peter parker/spiderman

// pairing: peter x reader

// summary: “your heart’s never soared this high and you think he might just be the person to fix you.”

It's past curfew on a Friday night, and this is exactly the sort of situation you've been told to stay away from.

The party seems like something straight out of a cliche high school romance flick, with red solo cups littering the floor and hormonal teenagers pressed against each other in the corners, lips locked together and hands roaming each others' bodies.

Your senses feel dulled by the constant, heavy thrum of the bass blasting through the speakers and the strong reek of alcohol that seems to have settled into the air. Still, you haven't been to a party since--well, since before everything that happened last year, and Becca has vehemently assured you that the awkwardly clingy black top you dug out of her closet makes you look "like a total catch".

So part of you thinks that having a little fun might not be such a bad idea.

You destroy your opponents through a few rounds of beer pong, expertly avoid a game of seven minutes in heaven before one of your friends can drag you in, fail fantastically at pool and spend a lot of the night mingling and swaying to the music.

It's a little past midnight when Becca stumbles into you, a ditsy smile plastered on her face and her eyes clouded with insobriety.

"Hi," she mumbles giddily as she pitches forward and you hastily grab her shoulders to keep her from spilling to the ground in a heap.

You chuckle a little. "How much did you have to drink?" you say loudly, trying to make your voice heard over the pounding music.

A crease forms between her brows and she shrugs. "I dunno," she grins. "A lot."

With a mixture of exasperation and fondness, you sigh and set her on the couch. "God, you are going to have such a hangover tomorrow. Promise me you'll let me drive you home?"

She nods, but you know she's not really listening when her eyes glance in the other direction and she says in what you think is supposed to be a quiet voice, "He's staring at you." Your eyes follow her gaze to a familiar brown-haired boy in a Star Wars t-shirt, who quickly looks away to observe a nearby game of pool. "Who, Peter?" You laugh a little, but a hot blush creeps up on your cheeks and you duck your head. "Yeah right. Like he'd be staring at me."

Your best friend's gaze swivels from him to you and back. "You should tell him," she declares.

"Say it a little louder, would you?" you hiss sarcastically. "I don't think they heard you in Jersey." She laughs. "I'm serious," she says, though it's in a hushed whisper this time as she pulls you closer by the arm. "You've liked him for forever. And judging by the way he's looking at you in that outfit," her voice dips into a sing-song tone as she slurs, "he likes you too."

Rolling your eyes, you shove her shoulder gently. "Shut up, Bea, you know he doesn't think of me that way." you huff, and a smirk crosses her face as she stands abruptly.

"Whatever you say. I'm gonna grab some food," she says, stretching. "You want anything?"

You shake your head, but she pouts. "Y/N, you skipped lunch, too," she protests.

"Yeah, because I had to make up that test for Mr. Dewar. I ate after school," you explain. You're not lying; you don't do that anymore. You're better now. Or at least, you're trying.

But Becca, drunk, doesn't seem to see it that way. "Are you trying to stop eating again?" She makes a poor attempt at a whisper. "Because you know it's not good for you." She sounds like a scolding parent, and a few pairs of eyes around the room drift over to you.

Stop staring, you plead mentally, your insides squirming under their gazes. "Bea," you say through gritted teeth, "I'm fine, okay? Drop it."

"You can't keep doing this to yourself!" She's loud. Too loud. Heads swivel in your direction.

People are looking at you. Everyone's looking at you. I'm fine, you want to scream. It's over. Nothing's wrong with me.

But their eyes linger.

You feel like it's freshman year all over again, and you're collapsing on the gym floor and the nurse is bending over you and saying something about malnourishment and everyone is staring at you and you can't breathe. And suddenly, you're back to being the object of gossip and stolen glances and whispers in the hallway when they think you aren't listening-- she's that anorexic girl, the one who was fat until she starved herself.

You have to remind yourself that you're here and not there, that this is a party and you're supposed to be having fun but instead you're trying to remember how you're supposed to breathe.

In, out. In, out.

Right. Easy.

So why can't you seem to catch a breath?

It takes you a minute to realize that your hands are shaking and that Becca's still talking, although you aren't really listening anymore.

You mutter some excuse and slip out of the room; she tries to call out to you but you can't seem to get to the back door fast enough.

The grass is wet. The air is humid and cool and heavy with the smell of rain, the sharp contrast to the heat inside hitting you as you step into the yard, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket and trying to shove the taste of bile back down your throat.

The smell of alcohol lingers on your clothes and you can still feel the bass from inside; you wonder for a moment what you're doing here, when a book and a warm blanket seems like such a nice alternative.

Oh right, you think to yourself. I was trying to be normal, for one night.

Normal. You've spent the last eight months trying to get back there. Talking to doctors, therapists, guidance counselors, anyone who thinks they can help. You remember the before picture of it all, when you were scared and angry and you hated yourself, and now you feel the exact same way and you think that maybe you haven't come all that far.

"Why did you do it?" the counselor asks, sincere concern lacing her words. "You have such a beautiful body, can't you see that?"

You try to laugh, but think you might cry instead as you looked up at her. "Have you ever been to high school?"

She gives you the look, the one you've come to know all-too-well, that mixture of pity and disappointment that seems to be etched on everyone's faces these days. You want to tell her to stop, that you don't want her pity, that you might feel a lot better if everyone would just quit looking at you that way--

"--re you okay?"

Surprised, your head snaps towards him immediately. You didn't even notice him come out. But Peter's standing there, concern in those deep brown eyes and one hand running through his brown hair nervously.

You open your mouth, tempted to say you're fine, that there's nothing for him to worry about. But as you look at him, you feel a bit of your resolve wear away. At first, you're not sure why, but then, you think, it's Peter, the geeky science nerd you've known for years, exchanging study guides and making cheesy science jokes from the back of the classroom and maybe falling a little in love along the way. It's Peter, so instead of lying you shake your head. "Not really, no," you breathe.

"You're not...are you still..." he trails, like he doesn't quite know how to phrase the question.

Your choice of words, however, is more blunt. "I'm not starving myself anymore, if that's what you mean. I haven't done that in a long time."

Peter looks at you for a long time, as though trying to figure out whether or not you're lying, and then gives you a slow nod as he leans against the wall next to you. "What happened in there?" he asks quietly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

"Nothing." You drop your gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. If you do, you think you might break into tears.

"Y/N, you can talk to me."

Sighing slowly, you glare at the ground. "I just...I couldn't breathe. I--everyone was staring at us. I didn't want to-to stay in there and let them gawk at me like I was some animal in a zoo. Like I was some..." you grit your teeth, voice shaking, "some beast that they were looking at through glass."

He hesitates, and then, sounding shocked, "Is that how you feel?"

Part of you wishes he would leave, so he wouldn't see you cry. "That's how I've always felt, Peter. Why--" You shudder as your voice breaks. "Why do you think I did this?" You look up at him, blinking tears out of bloodshot eyes. Slowly, you sink into the grass, ignoring the fact that the rainwater is seeping through your tights, and draw your knees to your chest.

He doesn't say anything, just kneels next to you and holds you in his arms when you finally break into shaking sobs, your breath stuttering as you try to hold them back. But you don't think there's any part of you that can fight it anymore, and the tears just fall in a torrent of frustration that you haven't let go of in far too long. The saltwater streaks down your face and soaks his hoodie, and he runs his fingers through your hair, hugging you against his chest and resting his chin on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup when the sobs finally slow, your voice muffled by his body.

Peter shakes his head. "Don't be sorry," he murmurs. "You don't deserve to feel this way."

"Maybe I do."

"You don't." His voice is insistent as he cups your cheek with his hands. "You don't deserve this. You're beautiful." He sounds...honest. You meet his eyes, and sincerity is all you can see. Something inside of you swells. "I haven't...no one's ever said that to me." "They should." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I don't hold just anyone as their tears totally soak my favorite shirt, you know," he teases.

A watery chuckle escapes your lips, and he grins, looking a little proud of himself.

"I guess it's a good thing I wore waterproof mascara," you joke, wiping the wet tracks away from your face with a sleeve and sniffling. It earns you a laugh.

"Do you...want me to walk you home?" he offers as you pick yourself off the ground.

You shake your head. "I think I'll stay a while. Someone's got to keep Becca from making a total fool out of herself," you say, taking a deep breath to compose yourself and then starting to walk towards the party.

He chuckles. "I'll stay for a while, too, then. But, uh, Y/N? One more thing." "Yeah?" You turn around.

A flash of nerves crosses his face before his hand wraps around your waist, the other one resting in your hair, and he kisses you. It's soft and sweet and his lips taste better than anything you've ever forced yourself not to eat, and it's Peter and your heart's never soared this high and you think he might just be the person to fix you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #requests #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman #tom holland #peter parker #criticism is welcome #enjoy!!

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