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rafecameronssl4t · 10 months ago

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Never say never || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request I love it!! @ghostlythinggoingaround

Warnings: swearing, sofia is insecure abt herself. other than that, nothing really

Word count: 1,317

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

"Who are you looking at?" JJ asked, his curiosity piqued as he followed Sofia's intense gaze across the room. His eyes landed on Rafe, who stood by the pool table, exuding his usual air of arrogance. JJ let out a loud sigh and turned back to Sofia, concern etched on his face.

"Sof, you gotta stop," he said, frowning deeply. Sofia looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her hands mechanically wiping the glasses clean behind the bar. "Stop with what?" she asked, her voice tinged with feigned ignorance.

"Thinking you have a chance with Rafe," JJ replied bluntly. Sofia's hands paused for a brief moment before she resumed her task, her shoulders tensing. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that—well, I did, but—" JJ stammered, his voice trailing off as he noticed the sadness clouding her eyes.

He sighed heavily, "Rafe doesn't do relationships, you know that, right? He'll string you along and then break your heart. Besides, he's a jackass." JJ scoffed, his eyes flicking back to Rafe, who was now laughing loudly with a group of friends.

"Who's a jackass?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind them. JJ and Sofia turned to find Sarah, John B, and Pope approaching the bar. Sarah settled into a bar stool beside JJ, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Your brother," JJ stated, his tone flat. Sarah snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "He's worse, trust me," she said, her eyes shifting to Sofia with a knowing look. "Don't tell me you still like Rafe?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity.

Sofia swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sof—" Sarah began, but Sofia cut her off. "Don't. JJ's already said enough," she sighed, placing the last glass back on the rack before leaning against the counter, her posture defeated. "I just don't understand why he doesn't do relationships."

"Commitment issues, probably," Pope suggested, his eyes following the group's collective gaze towards Rafe, who was in conversation with Topper. "He's got way more issues—" John B started, but Sofia shushed him urgently.

"Stop, he's coming this way!" she whisper-yelled, quickly pretending to be busy as Rafe sauntered over. Rafe walked past them all without a second glance, his attention solely focused on the bartender at the far end of the counter. Sofia took a deep breath, mustering her courage as she approached him, ready to offer her service.

But just as she reached him, Rafe glanced her way, his expression indifferent, and turned to the other bartender to place his order. Sofia's heart sank, and she turned back to her friends, who were watching her with sympathetic eyes.

"See? He's an asshole, Sof. Don't waste your time on him," Sarah advised, her voice softening as she watched Sofia's sullen expression. "I guess," Sofia murmured, her gaze lingering on Rafe for a moment longer.

"What time do you get off? I was thinking we could have a fire tonight and have drinks at the chateau," John B suggested, leaning casually against the bar. "I'll be off at seven, and that sounds great," Sofia replied with a bright smile. The others chimed in with their agreement, the excitement of the plan evident in their voices.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sofia noticed you standing by the counter, catching her attention. "I'll be back," she said to her friends, making her way over to you with a welcoming smile. "Hey, can I get you something?" Sofia asked, her eyes meeting yours as you lifted your gaze from your phone, a friendly smile on your lips.

"Hi! Can I just get a Long Island Iced Tea, please?" you replied. "Sure, coming right up," she said, her smile widening as she turned to prepare the drink. As she mixed the ingredients, Sofia couldn't help but steal glances at you. Your natural beauty seemed effortless, and she felt a pang of envy. Your perfectly styled hair, flawless skin, and confident demeanor made her acutely aware of her own insecurities.

"That's a gorgeous necklace you got there," Sofia remarked, her eyes lingering on the shimmering pendant that caught the light with every movement. You smiled warmly, your fingers instinctively reaching up to toy with the delicate chain. Sofia's gaze remained fixed, silently estimating its worth and admiring its intricate design.

"Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me for my birthday," you chuckled, a note of fondness in your voice. Sofia nodded with a smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of envy. She turned back to prepare your drink, but you called out, "Babe, did you want anything?"

Sofia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned and saw Rafe standing beside you, his arm protectively draped over your shoulder. "Whatever you're getting," he replied smoothly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You smiled at Sofia, who struggled to mask her shock and disbelief.

"Can I get another one, please?" you asked, your tone polite and cheerful. Sofia's eyes darted between you and Rafe, her heart sinking as she realized the truth: your boyfriend was Rafe, the guy who supposedly never did relationships. The realization hit her hard, leaving her momentarily stunned.

Rafe noticed the awkward silence and turned his attention to Sofia, who still held your drink. "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of impatience.

Your eyes widened in embarrassment. "Don't be rude," you whispered to him, trying to diffuse the tension. Snapping out of her daze, Sofia mumbled, "Sorry," and placed your drink on the counter with a clatter, spilling some of its contents in her haste.

As she prepared the next drink, Sofia couldn't help but eavesdrop on your conversation with Rafe. "Do you wanna do anything this afternoon?" Rafe asked, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "Got any ideas?" you chuckled, resting your hands on his arms, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Could take the boat out and have dinner?" he suggested, causing your smile to widen with excitement. "That sounds great—" you began, but were interrupted by a loud thud. "There's your drink," Sofia said, pushing the glass toward you with a bit more force than intended. You thanked her and reached for your card, but Rafe quickly swatted your hand away.

"Don't even," Rafe said playfully, making you sigh jokingly. "Rafe—" you started, but he cut you off, chuckling. "You know to just put it on my tab." Sofia's annoyance bubbled over, her fingers tapping rapidly on the counter in frustration. "Just put it on my tab, Cameron," Rafe repeated, not even glancing at her as he took both drinks.

“Thanks again,” you said with a polite smile to Sofia before walking off with Rafe. From behind the bar, Sofia watched with a mix of emotions as you settled onto Rafe’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Laughter bubbled up between you, triggered by something one of your friends said, a scene that ignited jealousy and heartache in Sofia.

She exhaled shakily before returning to her friends, attempting to distract herself from the sight. Unbeknownst to Sofia, her friends had witnessed the entire scene. “Did you not know?” Sofia asked Sarah, wiping down the bar in an effort to focus her thoughts. Sarah hesitated before responding, her expression conflicted. “I did…” she trailed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sofia’s voice quivered with confusion and hurt, her brows furrowing. “I didn’t know they were together!” Sarah’s voice was defensive yet apologetic. “I thought they were just hooking up, but I guess not…” She shrugged, a look of regret crossing her face.

“How long?” Sofia finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. Sarah hesitated, meeting Sofia’s gaze for a fleeting moment before answering, “About a month, now?” Sofia fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to maintain her composure. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them spill over.

“Shit. They’re even matching clothes and everything,” Pope muttered under his breath, the disbelief evident in his voice. His words were abruptly silenced by a firm slap from John B on his chest.

“Sofia…” JJ began, his tone soft and filled with concern. But Sofia, determined not to let her emotions show, dismissed him with a wave of her hand. A solitary tear had slipped down her cheek, betraying her true feelings, which she quickly wiped away.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They look good together anyway,” she added, casting a fleeting glance at you and Rafe. The sight of you both seemed to sting, but she tried to mask it.

Clearing her throat, Sofia straightened up, striving to maintain her composure. “I’m just gonna go back to work,” she said, her voice steadying as she turned away. With a final, determined breath, she walked off, leaving her friends behind, trying to hold herself together.

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unconventional-lawnchair · 5 months ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy

Where the boys get jealous... (Feat. Barty, Regulus, Sirius, Remus, and James)

WC: ~3.5k

CW: Fem!Reader, a few cusses, obsessive and possessive boys, Remus and Moony are written as different characters.

Barty gets asked if you're single…

Barty leaned against the stone wall of the corridor, arms crossed and a lazy smirk playing on his lips as the boy in front of him tried to find his footing in the conversation. It was late enough in the evening that most of the students had cleared out, leaving the space quiet except for the faint echo of distant footsteps. The boy- what was his name? Probably irrelevant- was shifting his weight nervously, though he tried to mask it with a forced bravado.

“So,” The boy began again, licking his lips as though trying to sound casual. “You’re close with her, right? I mean, you two are always together.”

Barty raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening just a touch as he tilted his head- pulling the smoke from between his lips. “We’re friends,” Barty replied easily, though the word friends came out slow and deliberate, almost like a challenge.

The boy took a deep breath, seemingly bolstered by Barty’s nonchalant tone. “Right, yeah. I figured.” He hesitated, then plunged forward, clearly emboldened by the silence. “I was just wondering, you know… do you think she’d go for someone like me?”

Barty blinked. For the briefest moment, his expression was unreadable- like he hadn’t quite heard the question correctly. Then, like a switch being flipped, he grinned widely, his whole face lighting up as though the very idea had amused him to no end.

“You?” He repeated, laughter edging his voice as he uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall. He took a deep breath of his smoke and let the ash slip onto the boy's shoe, who quickly shook it off. Barty gestured at the boy vaguely, as though considering his entire existence. “You’re asking if you would have a shot?”

The boy’s bravado faltered slightly at Barty’s tone, but he straightened his shoulders, forcing a confident nod. “Yeah. I mean, she’s nice to everyone, right? So I thought- ”

“Oh, that’s precious,” Barty interrupted smoothly, his voice warm but condescending. He stepped closer, his free hand sliding into his pocket, his green eyes glinting as he looked the boy over. “She is nice to everyone, isn’t she? That’s what makes her so…” He paused, pretending to search for the right word. “Enchanting, I suppose.”

The boy relaxed just a fraction at Barty’s seemingly complimentary tone, but Barty’s smile sharpened as he took another step forward.

“Here’s the thing,” Barty continued, his voice softening into something dangerously close to friendly. “You’re not a bad bloke, are you?” He flicked his robes, letting the smoke from his cigarette fill the boys senses. “Clean enough robes, decent enough grades- probably someone your mum’s very proud of. Real cookie cutter, yeah?”

The boy blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… I guess?”

Barty grinned wider. “See? Nothing wrong with you at all. And yet…” He trailed off, taking another hit before he blatantly blew the smoke into his face. Even then he still found himself leaning in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “She’s not for you.”

The boy coughed, shooing away the smoke, confused. “What do you mean? She’s not- ”

“Let me save you some time, mate,” Barty cut in smoothly, stepping around him as though they were taking a casual stroll together. “Do you know what she wants to be after she graduates? How she wrinkles her nose when she laughs too hard- how much she hates when someone brings it up? Or how she’ll hum to herself when she thinks no one’s listening? How to make her smile on her worst days?” He glanced back over his shoulder, his smile full of sharp teeth. “You don’t, do you?”

The boy shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Barty’s words. “No, but- ”

Barty whirled back to face him, the sudden movement causing the boy to flinch. “That’s the problem though, innit?” He said softly, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “You don’t know her. Not really. And she deserves someone who does.”

The boy looked frustrated now, his confidence cracking under Barty’s pointed gaze. “You’re just saying that because you think you’re better for her!”

Barty’s smirk vanished. The shift was subtle but immediate, the playfulness draining from his face as his eyes turned icy, pinning the boy where he stood. “Better for her?” Barty echoed softly, his tone devoid of its earlier amusement. “I’d destroy myself for her. I’d burn the whole bloody world down if it so much as thought about hurting her. I've spent years of my life making sure she'd never know fear when I'm around.”

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Barty stepped closer, forcing him to back up until his shoulders hit the cold stone wall. Flicking out his cig and tossing it at his chest.

“You don’t understand devotion, mate,” Barty continued, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Not the kind that keeps you awake at night, wondering if she’s happy. Not the kind that has you ready to rip apart anyone who so much as looks at her the wrong way. That kind of love… it’s not for people like you.”

The boy swallowed hard, his eyes darting away as though trying to escape Barty’s unrelenting stare.

Barty tilted his head, the hint of a smile returning to his lips, though it held none of its earlier warmth. “But don’t worry,” he said lightly, taking a small step back. “I’m not angry. You’re harmless, really. Like a moth buzzing too close to something far too bright for you to touch. Happens to everyone who meets her.”

The boy shifted uneasily, his face pale as he tried to muster some shred of dignity. “You’re crazy,” He muttered under his breath.

Barty grinned at that, his eyes glinting with something almost feral. “Probably,” He admitted cheerfully, shrugging. “Just trust me mate. You wouldn't survive the competition.”

~~~

Regulus sees a guy trying to ask you out…

You were standing just outside the courtyard, the stone archways sheltering you and a nervous-looking Gryffindor boy from the cool autumn breeze. He’d stopped you after class, clearly trying to build up the courage to ask something. You were being polite, as always, listening with a soft smile while he stumbled over his words.

Regulus hadn’t been far, of course. He never was, though you hadn’t noticed him watching you from across the courtyard, his keen gray eyes narrowing slightly at the boy’s sudden presence.

“So, um,” the Gryffindor started, shifting on his feet and running a hand through his hair. “I was wondering if- uh- well, maybe you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? Just us?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “Oh- ”

Before you could finish, Regulus moved in like a shadow, silent and swift. Without a word, he appeared at your side and leaned down, resting his chin casually on your shoulder. The gesture startled you, your breath hitching as his weight settled comfortably there, familiar but intrusive all the same.

“Are you busy, ma moitié?” Regulus asked smoothly, his tone soft, casual, and laced with just a hint of amusement. He ignored the Gryffindor completely, acting as if he didn’t exist.

Your face turned slightly to the side, startled by his sudden proximity. “Regulus? What are you- ”

“We have that thing to do, remember?” Regulus murmured, his voice low but perfectly clear. He tilted his head, the movement brushing his hair softly against your cheek.

The Gryffindor frowned, his nerves quickly shifting to irritation. “What thing? I was just asking her something- ”

Regulus finally glanced at him, his gaze lazy and unbothered but chilling nonetheless. “How generous of you to interrupt,” he said coolly, his chin still perched on your shoulder as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

The boy bristled. “I didn’t interrupt- ”

Regulus cut him off with a small, sardonic smile, as though he were correcting a child. “You didn’t mean to, I’m sure,” he drawled. “But, you see, we have plans. So unless you’re particularly fond of wasting her time…”

You frowned slightly, your hand moving to nudge Regulus’s shoulder as if to make him move. “Reg, that’s not- ”

“Isn’t it?” Regulus replied smoothly, tilting his head ever so slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

The Gryffindor’s face flushed, clearly caught off guard by Regulus’s presence and tone. He looked at you, frustration in his voice. “Look, I just wanted to- ”

“I think you should go,” Regulus said, his voice as light and polite as ever, though there was no mistaking the ice beneath it.

The Gryffindor hesitated, but Regulus’s unwavering stare pinned him in place. It wasn’t a glare- Regulus didn’t need to glare to be intimidating. His calm, unwavering confidence was sharp enough. After another awkward pause, the boy muttered, “Maybe another time.”

He turned and walked off, shoulders tense and ears red.

Regulus finally lifted his chin from your shoulder, straightening up with a look of faint satisfaction. You turned on him immediately, pouting a bit with your bottom lip jotted out- eyebrows furrowing and your arms crossed. “That wasn't very nice, Black.”

Regulus shrugged and wrapped his arm around your waist as he turned you away from the courtyard. “He’ll live.”

~~~

Sirius seeing someone flirt with you…

It was a lovely spring afternoon by the Black Lake. The sunlight filtered through the branches of the nearby trees, dancing over the rippling water. A cool breeze swept through the air, ruffling your hair as you sat cross-legged on a blanket, deep in conversation with a Slytherin boy.

The boy- someone vaguely familiar, you thought his name was Marcus- had approached you earlier in the day, something about needing help with Potions. He was pleasant enough, a bit shy, though you couldn’t help but notice how often he looked away or scratched the back of his neck when you smiled.

“…and, you know, it’s just the stirring,” Marcus was saying, his voice faltering slightly as his eyes darted to yours. “I keep- well, messing it up. Slughorn says I’m overthinking it.”

You offered a gentle smile, always patient. “It’s probably just nerves,” you reassured him kindly. “You’re better at it than you think, I’m sure. Do you want me to walk you through it?”

Marcus blinked, visibly perking up. “Oh- yeah, that’d be great, I mean- ”

“Ah, there you are,” Sirius Black’s unmistakable drawl cut through the serene afternoon like a thunderclap.

Both of you turned toward the voice, and there he was. Sirius stood at the edge of the blanket with his hands shoved lazily in the pockets of his trousers, the sunlight making his dark hair shine like ink. There was an unmistakable mischief in his gray eyes as he looked from you to Marcus and back again.

“Sirius,” You said with a mix of surprise and mild annoyance, straightening where you sat. “What are you doing here?”

“What, can’t a man visit his favorite girl?” He replied with a grin, though his gaze sharpened ever so slightly as it flicked toward Marcus. “You know, it’s dangerous out here by the lake. Giant squids, rouge bludgers, snakes- all that. Best you’re not left alone with someone… inexperienced.”

Marcus’s face flushed, clearly thrown off. “I think she’s doing fine, thanks,” he muttered, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

Sirius smirked, as though that was the response he’d been hoping for. Without any preamble, he dropped onto the blanket beside you- practically on top of you- his long legs stretching out as he sprawled back against the grass like he owned the entire lakeshore.

“Merlin’s beard, it’s exhausting being me,” he said dramatically, folding his arms behind his head. “You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart? Just needed to rest my bones for a bit.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sirius, I’m kind of busy- ”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt,” he said innocently, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was anything but. “Go on, Marcus. You were talking about… stirring, was it?”

Marcus shot Sirius a pointed glare. “We were in the middle of something.”

“Were you?” Sirius replied, eyes gleaming with barely contained amusement. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You frowned, nudging him with your elbow. “Sirius, stop being difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult.” He purred smoothly, shifting just enough to rest his head against your shoulder, his hair brushing your neck as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just keeping an eye on you. Someone has to.”

Your face burned at the unexpected affection, though you tried your best to seem unbothered. Marcus, however, looked positively livid, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Marcus accused, glaring at Sirius.

Sirius blinked up at him, all mock innocence. “Me? What on earth would I be doing on purpose?”

“You know what- ”

“Marcus,” you interrupted, sighing as you tried to salvage the conversation. “Maybe we can pick this up later. It’s… getting a bit distracting.”

Marcus glanced at you, frustrated but resigned, his gaze lingering a moment longer before he nodded stiffly. “Sure. Later.”

He stalked off without another word, leaving you alone with Sirius, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re an ass.” You huffed, finally shoving him off your shoulder.

Sirius sat up with a dramatic groan, smirking as he stretched out his arms. “Merlin, that was exhausting.”

You glared at him, exasperated. “What was that?”

“That, my dear,” Sirius said, grinning cheekily, “was me doing you a favor. You don’t honestly want to spend your afternoon discussing stirring, do you?”

“That’s not the point!” You argued, narrowing your eyes. “He was just being nice, and you scared him off!”

“Good,” Sirius replied smugly, lying back down with his hands behind his head. “Couldn’t risk losing you to someone boring.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I could be practical- real practical. We can talk about stirring.”

You huffed, trying to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

Sirius turned his head to look at you, his grin softening ever so slightly as his stormy eyes held yours. “Besides,” he added, voice quieter now, “it’s much better when it’s just us, don’t you think?”

~~~

Remus finds you asleep on someone he doesn't know…

The Gryffindor common room was dimly lit, the fire burning low, its golden light casting lazy shadows across the walls. Most students had gone to bed, and silence blanketed the space, save for the occasional pop of burning wood.

Remus hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d lain awake for what felt like hours, restlessness gnawing at him as Moony clawed at the edges of his mind, pacing.

She’s not where she's supposed to be, Moony murmured, insistent and low, like a growl rumbling through his chest. Go to her. Find her.

It was nonsense, of course. You were probably curled up in your dormitory, safe and warm, and yet Moony’s unease bled into Remus, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He sighed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and padding barefoot to the staircase. Just to be sure. Just to calm Moony.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the fire caught his eye first. Then he saw you.

You were curled up in a worn armchair by the fire, your head tilted to rest softly against the shoulder of a fifth-year boy Remus barely recognized. The boy sat stiffly, afraid to move, his expression somewhere between frozen panic and misplaced pride.

Moony stilled.

And then he snarled.

Get her up. She’s vulnerable.

Remus stopped in place, his breath catching as an instinct he couldn’t quite name surged through him. Moony’s anger wasn’t a loud roar this time- it was quiet, simmering like an ember. What’s he doing there? She’s asleep. He shouldn’t be near her. She's vulnerable.

Remus swallowed hard, his fingers twitching as he tried to steady himself. He didn’t want to startle you, and he didn’t want to scare the boy. He wasn’t angry- not really. But Moony… Moony didn’t understand manners.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, Remus moved forward. Quiet as a shadow, he stopped in front of the chair, his amber-tinged eyes fixed on the boy.

The younger Gryffindor glanced up nervously. “Oh. Uh- Lupin- she fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake her.”

Remus didn’t say anything at first, his gaze shifting to you. Your breathing was soft and steady, one arm curled loosely under your head. Moony quieted just a little at the sight, though the wolf’s presence still pressed against Remus’s ribs, heavy and protective.

“She’ll be more comfortable in her own bed,” Remus said finally, his voice low and calm. “I’ll take her.”

The boy blinked, confused. “I- what?”

Remus lifted his chin slightly, his tone firm despite the gentleness in it. “You can go. I’ll make sure she gets to her dorm.”

The boy hesitated, but something in Remus’s steady gaze seemed to settle the matter. “Right. Yeah. Sure,” he mumbled awkwardly, carefully shifting out from under you. He moved to stand, glancing one last time at you before hurrying up the stairs, his footsteps fading into the quiet.

Remus let out a slow breath, crouching down next to you. Moony settled just a little further, content now that the boy was gone, but still restless, still protective.

She’s too exposed, Moony murmured. Wake her. Take her where she’s safe.

Remus hesitated, watching the way your lashes fluttered faintly against your cheeks as you stirred, your lips parting slightly as though searching for the warmth that had left. His heart tugged in his chest, guilt biting at him.

“Dovie,” He called softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, his hand hovering over your arm for just a moment before gently brushing against your shoulder. “Up you get, lovely girl.”

You shifted with a quiet murmur, blinking blearily as your eyes fluttered open. “Mmm… Remus?”

“Hey.” He cooed, his lips curving into a small, careful smile. “You fell asleep down here.”

“Oh.” You blinked again, sitting up slowly and rubbing at your eyes. You looked around in confusion before your gaze landed back on him. “What time is it?”

“Late,” He chuckled, standing to his full height as he offered you a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

You frowned sleepily, tilting your head. “You don’t have to do that.”

Remus’s jaw tightened faintly, and for a moment, he swore he could feel Moony’s growl rumbling deep inside him. She needs protecting. Don’t leave her here.

“I insist,” He said gently, his voice soft but brooking no argument. “You’ll sleep better in your own bed.”

You yawned, smiling at him as you took his hand. “If you say so.”

~~~

James steals the show from your newest admirer…

The Gryffindor common room was alive with its usual evening bustle- cards flying in midair from a game of Exploding Snap, the fire crackling merrily, and the low hum of chatter filling every corner. You were perched on the arm of one of the chairs, laughing softly as a chaser- Finn regaled you with a story from practice, his easy-going charm and dramatic hand gestures keeping you engaged.

Finn’s voice was lively, something about a Bludger mishap and the newest Beater, and you couldn’t help the bright smile it pulled from you.

James, sitting across the room with Sirius and Remus, had been halfway through a halfhearted game of Wizard’s Chess when he noticed.

“Prongs,” Sirius said, nudging him when his knight didn’t move. “Your move, mate.”

James didn’t hear him. His hazel eyes were fixed on the sight of you leaning just a little closer to Finn, laughing at something he’d said.

James sat up straighter, his jaw tightening.

“Earth to Prongs?” Sirius waved a hand in front of James’s face, earning himself a scowl.

“Do you lot know,” James said suddenly, his voice pitched loud enough to carry across the room, “about the time I stole Filch’s keys and locked him in his own office? Poor guy thought Peeves was after him.”

All at once, a ripple of laughter swept through the room. Students turned toward James with wide smiles and bright eyes, a chorus of, “No way!” and “You’ve got to tell us!” filling the air.

Finn faltered mid-sentence, glancing toward the growing crowd around James.

You shot Finn an apologetic smile, clearly torn between listening to the end of his story and the infectious energy that always followed your best friend. James’s grin was wide and charming as ever, his eyes twinkling mischievously- but when his gaze flicked to yours, something sharper lingered beneath the warmth.

He hadn’t stopped looking at Finn once.

“What happened?” One of the younger students urged eagerly, completely captivated by James’s easy charisma.

“Ah, you wouldn’t believe it,” James replied, leaning back in his seat as though he had all the time in the world. His voice was smooth, his confidence magnetic. “I’d hidden behind that big grandfather clock, you know the one? Filch swore up and down he’d heard a ghost- but he couldn’t figure out how the door locked from the outside. Poor bloke works at Hogwarts and still doesn't grasp magic!”

More laughter erupted, and James winked at you as if to say, See? Isn’t this better?

Finn glanced at you, clearly realizing he’d lost your attention entirely. “I, um… I guess I’ll finish the story later,” He muttered sheepishly.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You said, genuinely apologetic, but Finn was already waving you off.

“It’s fine. James has a habit of stealing the spotlight anyway,” he joked, though his tone wasn’t without a hint of frustration. He wandered off toward his dorm room, leaving you to turn toward James and his growing group of admirers.

Later, Sirius confronted James about his little stunt. Calling him jealous, James scoffs dramatically. “Jealous? Me? Please. I’m just looking out for her.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Looking out for her, or making sure no one else looks at her?”

James shrugs, a smug little grin tugging at his lips. “Same thing, really.”

2K notes · View notes

pinkboaclub · 2 months ago

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Playboy Brother

Summery: A peaceful spring break at your best friends vacation house was supposed to be a quiet escape, just swimming, sunbathing, and relaxation. But when her older brother, Harry, unexpectedly shows up, the trip takes an unexpected turn when Sofia’s out for the night.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: smut, sleeping with friends brother, dom!Harry, zero protection, mention of alcohol, fem!reader

"You know what, Y/N?" Sofia turned towards you as you hung out in her dorm. "Let's ditch the party scene and do something actually fun for spring break."

You raised an eyebrow, though you weren't stoked about it, you both had agreed to go to Florida with your friend group for spring break. "What do you mean?"

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I'm talking about my family's vacation house. We can swim, read books, maybe even go hiking. And it will just be us...very peaceful and relaxing"

You thought for a moment, the thought of crowded beaches and noisy parties fading away. The vacation house sounded like a breath of fresh air. "Alright, let's do it," you said, a smile spreading across your face.

As it was not near your University, Sofia's parents' vacation house felt like it was out of a dream, completely different from your concrete dorms. As you pulled into the driveway, the serene beauty of the surroundings captured you. The house itself was a cozy mansion that sat among tall, beautiful trees, with a beautiful pool. The moment you stepped out of the car, the sweet scent of the warm spring air hit you.

Inside, the house was exactly how you imagined a vacation house should be, with wooden floors, large windows looking out at the pool. The kitchen was stocked with all sorts of goodies, courtesy of Sofia's mom.

With the sun peeking through the windows, the temperature outside was perfect for a swim. You followed Sofia's lead and headed to the guest room where your bags where you placed your bag on your bed. You threw open her suitcase and pulled out a bikini.

You both immediately jumped in the pool after running down the stairs, letting the water cool you down.

"This is heaven, I haven't been in a pool in so long." you sighed as you floated on your back, your eyes closed.

A sudden ding from Sofia’s phone broke the moment. She climbed out, swiping at the screen. “Oh, my brother’s stopping by.”

You cracked an eye open. “Your brother?”

“Yeah, Harry. He’s just going to drop something off to store in the garage.” She tossed her phone onto a pool chair. You nodded, but a small part of you suddenly wished you’d packed a swimsuit with a little more coverage. Not that it mattered.

You and Sofia continued to lounge by the pool, letting the sun dry your skin, the warmth making you lazy. The sound of the backyard sliding door caught your attention, and instinctively, you lifted your sunglasses, eyes locking onto the man who stepped through.

He was tall, his broad shoulders were tanned from the sun, a sleeve of tattoos trailed down his muscular arm. Brown hair that was just messy enough to look effortless, and when his green eyes flicked to you, a jolt of something sharp and sudden shot through your chest.

“Sof,” he called, his voice deep and easy. “I’m just moving some stuff into the garage.”

"Okay, that's fine." She nonchalantly replied. Harry's eyes continued to glance at you. You caught his eyes wandering up and down your body multiple times. "Oh, Harry, this is Y/N."

Harry smiled and walked from the door over to where you were lounging. "Pleasure to meet you." He said, charisma shining through his words and smirk. He stuck out his hand and gave you a firm handshake. "I'm Harry."

You felt your cheeks warm up a little. "Nice to meet you too," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"So you two are gonna be here all week?" Harry asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sofia nodded. "Yep, just us and the great outdoors. You're not staying, are you?" she said, hopefulness in her tone.

"Nah, I've got my own plans," Harry replied with a wink. "But I might drop by again if you don't mind."

As Harry disappeared into the garage, you couldn't help but steal glances as he left. His shorts were short enough to see the couple tattoos he had on his legs, his t-shirt was snug enough to reveal the outline of his abs. You quickly turned your gaze away, not wanting to be caught staring at him or Sofia.

“Sorry about that…he’s such a play boy. He flirts with anyone and everyone.”

You chuckled, suddenly feeling less special. “No worries.”

The next few days at the house were full of relaxation. You and Sofia swam in the pool, watched movies, and would only leave to go shopping. Harry did drop by a couple more times, mostly to grab or drop off stuff, but each time his visits grew longer. You found yourself looking forward to his visits, and he always made a point to sit and chat with you whenever he could.

Though, as Sofia made sure to remind you, you knew he was being as friendly and flirting as he would with any girl Sofia could have brought with her.

One evening, as the sun began to set, Sofia suggested a night out in the nearby town. "We should hit up the local bar," she said with excitement. "A couple of my friends from here want to meet up."

"I'm not sure, I'm pretty tired," you admitted, your voice a bit weak. "Don't let me stop you though."

"Are you sure? It's just going to be a casual hang out."

You nodded. "Yeah, I think I'll just chill here and catch up on some reading." You picked up the novel you had brought along. "You go have fun, I'll be fine."

"Alright, if you're sure," she said, squeezing your shoulder. "Text me if you need anything."

As the door closed behind her, you settled back into the plush sofa with your book. The lake house was so peaceful, and the thought of the noisy bar was less than appealing.

You had been reading for a few hours when your phone buzzed with a text from Sofia.

Hey, sorry to bother you but Harry's on his way again. He's got some more stuff to grab. I can come back if you want.

‘No worries! I don't mind.’ You replied, your mind wandering to Harry, and him being here with you...alone. You shook your head, trying to get rid of any inappropriate thoughts, that's your best friend's brother.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Harry's footsteps echoed through the house, and soon he was standing in the doorway of the living room. "Hey," he said, his eyes lit up immediately after finding you. "I didn't know you'd still be up."

"Couldn't resist the peace and quiet," you said, setting your book aside. "How's your night going?"

"It's been good," Harry replied, stepping into the room. He was dressed casually in a band tee and jeans that fit just right. "But I figured I'd come by and grab a couple more things before the weekend gets hectic."

You nodded, trying to ignore the way his voice made your heart flutter.

"How has your spring break been?" Harry asked, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. "It's been pretty good, just relaxing mostly."

"That's the way to do it," Harry said, his eyes scanning the room before returning to you. "You know, it's funny, I'm surprised we haven't met before."

You felt your cheeks heat up. "I've met your parents...Sofia and I only met this year though." You shifted in your seat, your stomach turning in a knot. "I guess it was bound to happen eventually."

Harry chuckled, his eyes lingering on you. "I guess it was." He leaned closer, his gaze intense. "So, you're all alone here?"

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Sofia went out with some friends from around here."

"Ah, so it's just us then," Harry said, his voice dropping a notch. The air between you felt thick with something unspoken, and the room seemed to shrink with each passing second.

You nodded, feeling your pulse quicken. "Looks like it," you managed to murmur, your eyes flicking over to him.

The silence between you grew heavier, until Harry broke it with a smirk. "You know," he began, his eyes not leaving yours, "I've heard a lot about you."

Your heart raced as he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours. "Oh? Good things I hope." you asked, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting with you, or if that was his natural tone.

"Very good things," Harry said, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt your heart flutter again, and a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Well, I hope I can live up to the hype."

Harry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm sure you can." His hand reached over and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You know, I've been wanting to get to know you better for a while now."

Your cheeks grew hotter and you swallowed, trying to find the right words. The chemistry between you was palpable, and it was getting harder to ignore. "Yeah? Did you have something in mind?" You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a mischievous grin, Harry leaned in closer. His eyes dropped to your lips.

"I have a few ideas," he murmured, his hand resting gently on the sofa beside you. His thumb brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, Harry leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss. His lips were firm and insistent, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he pulled you closer. You smelled his strong cologne, which caused you to melt into him. You felt your body react instinctively, leaning into him as his other arm wrapped around your waist.

The kiss grew deeper, his tongue slipping between your lips to explore yours. He stood, pulling you to your feet, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as the kiss grew more intense.

"Come with me," Harry murmured against your mouth, his hand sliding down to grip yours. He led you through the house and up the stairs to a room you hadn't been in before. "This is my old room," he said, pushing it open.

The room was like a time capsule of Harry's youth, with posters of old rock bands on the walls and a queen bed covered in a plaid comforter. When you turned back to him, you picked up right where you left off.

Without breaking the kiss, his other hand slid down to the small of your back, pressing you closer to his body. His dominance was surprising but thrilling, making your legs feel like jelly. You stumbled backward slightly, and he took it as an invitation, walking you backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed. He leaned over you, his weight pressing you into the soft mattress.

You felt the heat of him, his chest against yours, his thighs between your own. His hand trailed up your side, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin under your arm, sending goosebumps across your body. Harry's kiss grew more demanding, his tongue exploring yours with a passion that made you gasp for air. He took advantage of the moment, deepening the kiss even further.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Harry's hand began to travel upwards under your shirt, his fingers tracing the line of your ribs. You felt a thrill as he reached the clasp of your bra, flicking it open with surprising ease. His hand cupped your breast, his thumb circling your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. His kiss grew more insistent, his tongue dancing with yours as he explored your body.

You felt his body shift and before you knew it, your shirt was being pulled over your head. Harry's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your bare chest. He leaned down and kissed your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck, and you gasped, arching your back to give him better access.

His hands slid over your body, sure and confident, as if he had done this a hundred times before. You couldn't deny that his experience was a turn on, and your body responded eagerly to his touch.

With a wicked smile, Harry kissed down your body, his mouth tracing a path from your neck to your navel, making you squirm with anticipation. You felt his hands slip down to the waistband of your shorts, his thumbs hooking into the fabric. He paused, his eyes searching yours for permission. You nodded immediately.

He kissed the skin just above the band of your shorts, his breath warm and teasing. His hands began to tug at the fabric, sliding it down over your hips, revealing your underwear. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. "God, you're gorgeous," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Without wasting a moment, Harry pushed your legs up to your chest, his strong arms holding you in place as he leaned in. His mouth found the damp fabric between your legs, and he bit down lightly, making you gasp. You felt his tongue slip beneath the material, tasting you for the first time. The sensation was intense, and you squirmed, trying to get closer to him. His grip tightened, keeping you in place as his mouth moved in a rough, insistent rhythm. You felt a buildup of pleasure, your muscles tensing as he worked his magic.

He hooked his thumbs into the sides of your panties and tugged them aside, revealing your wetness to the cool air. Harry groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin, making your hips lift off the bed. He didn't hold back, his tongue plunging into you, stroking and teasing until you were writhing beneath him. You could feel his strong hands gripping your thighs, keeping you open to him as he feasted on you. You were lost in the feeling, your moans filling the room, your nails digging into the bed sheets.

Your body arched off the bed, but Harry's grip on your legs was firm, keeping you in place as he ate you out. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, making you squirm and gasp. He seemed to take delight in your reactions, his tongue becoming more demanding as he lapped at your clit, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thighs to keep you still. Your hand fell to his hair, tugging on it as he tongue continued to masterfully work over you. He groaned out at the harsh pull.

"Do you like that?" he murmured against you, his breath hot and his tongue continuing to dance against your sensitive flesh.

You could only nod, unable to form coherent words as his mouth worked its magic. His grip on your legs tightened, his thumbs digging into your inner thighs as he pushed them further apart. Harry's tongue grew rougher, his teeth grazing your skin as he devoured you with an animalistic hunger. You felt your body responding, your hips rocking up to meet his mouth.

He took two fingers, slowly sliding them into you before immediately pushing into your g-spot at a lightening fast pace.

Your moans grew louder, and you felt your body tightening around his digits. Harry's eyes watched you with a mix of pleasure and hunger, his strokes becoming more aggressive. He was in complete control, and the feeling was intoxicating. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

But just as you were about to climax, Harry pulled away, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. You whimpered in protest, your body begging for release.

"Patience," he said, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs as he sat up and pulled off his shirt. His abs were defined, a sprinkling of hair leading down to his shorts, which were now tented with his arousal. You bit your lip, trying to control the desperate need pulsing through you

Harry noticed your gaze and smirked, unbuckling his belt.

"You wanna suck my cock, slutty girl?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

You blinked, the vulgarity of his words a stark contrast to the sweetness of the moment. But the heat in his eyes and the hardness pressing against his shorts told you that he was dead serious. Your heart raced as you nodded, his dominance a surprising turn on. Harry smirked, his hand reaching down to unbuckle his belt and pull his shorts down.

As he revealed himself, you took a deep breath, your eyes widening at the sight of his large, thick cock. You slid off the bed, dropping to your knees and leaning in.. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, feeling his pulse against your palm.

"That's it," Harry said, his voice a low growl of approval. "Suck it like you mean it."

You leaned in, taking him in your mouth, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue. Harry's hand found your hair, his grip tightening as he guided your movements. He was not gentle, pushing deeper into your mouth with every thrust. You felt a mix of fear and excitement, his dominance making you wetter than you had ever been. You took a deep breath, focusing on pleasing him, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat with every bob of your head.

"That's right," Harry groaned, his hand tightening in your hair. "Take it all." You could feel his muscles tensing, his thighs trembling with the effort to hold back. His eyes stared into yours, his gaze never leaving you as he watched you suck him off. You moaned around his cock, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through his body. He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with increasing force.

You felt your jaw ache, but the desperate need to please him overrode any discomfort. Harry's grip grew tighter, his hips moving faster as he approached climax. "I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. You nodded, eager to taste him, to feel him come in your mouth. With a final thrust, Harry's body stiffened and he released into your mouth. You swallowed, feeling the warmth of his cum slide down your throat.

Pulling away, you sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Harry leaned back, a smug smile on his face. "I want to see you on your hands and knees, on the bed, facing away from me," he said, his voice still rough with passion. He stood and stripped off the rest of his clothes, revealing his still fully erect cock.

You scurried to the bed, doing as he said. The mattress dipped as Harry climbed onto it behind you. Running a couple fingers up your slit, causing your whole body to shudder. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You liked sucking my cock, didn't you?"

"Uh, huh," you breathed, the only thing you were able to choke out, barely audible.

"Good," Harry said, his voice thick with desire. He positioned his cock at your entrance.

With a firm grip on your hips, Harry pushed into you, his size making you gasp. He didn't hold back, thrusting deep and hard, his cock filling you completely. Each stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl and your nails dig into the bed. His dominance was like a drug, and you found yourself craving more.

"Is this what you wanted?" Harry asked, his voice a low growl as he fucked you. "You want my cock deep inside, don't you?" You could only nod, your eyes screwed shut as you tried to process the intense feeling of fullness. He was so deep, his cock hitting places that no one else had ever reached.

"I could tell from the moment I first saw you the other day...your pretty eyes staring at me."

You felt his hand on the back of your neck, he kept fucking into you, relentlessly. The power play was something new, something that sent a thrill through you that you hadn't felt before.

"Show me how much you've been waiting for this," he murmured as he pulled out of you and lay against the headboard.

With trembling hands, you climbed onto him and reached between your legs, gripping his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You felt the tip brush against you, and he groaned.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, his thick length filling you up, stretching you wider than you'd ever been. You threw your head back, a guttural moan escaping your lips as you took all of him.

But as soon as you were fully seated, Harry's hands were on your hips, his grip tightening. He didn't let you set the pace, instead pulling you back down onto him before pushing you back up again. His strokes were powerful, his cock sliding up into you with a force that had you seeing stars. You tried to keep your eyes on his, but the pleasure was too intense, and they slammed shut as you threw your head back. He didn't even last one minute not being the one in control.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, his eyes locked onto the place where your bodies connected. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held onto your hips, his thrusts becoming more erratic. You grabbed his arms to keep yourself steady, feeling his hard biceps.

Without warning, Harry's grip tightened, his hands moving to your waist. He lifted you slightly before slamming you back down onto him. His eyes never left yours, watching as your mouth formed a silent 'o' of pleasure with every impact. You could feel him swell even more inside you, his cock pulsing with every thrust.

"You're so fucking perfect," Harry murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Riding me like a good little slut." He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You like it when I use you like this, huh?"

You nodded, unable to form words as he continued to fill you completely with every stroke. The dirty talk was something you never knew you liked, but with Harry, it just felt right. You felt your cheeks flush with both pleasure and embarrassment, but you couldn't help but crave more.

But just as Harry's pace grew even more aggressive, he abruptly stopped, his hand coming up to cup your face, gently tilting it to look at him. His eyes searched yours, concern flashing across his features. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Is this too much?"

You took a moment to catch your breath, the intensity of the moment making your heart race. "No, no" you panted, nodding. "It's just...I've never...it's great." Harry chuckled with a smirk on his lips.

"I’m corrupting you ," Harry groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. "I can't help it," he murmured, his voice strained.

"I need to see your face when I fuck your slutty pussy." He pushed you down onto the bed on your back, his hands moving to grip your thighs and roughly pull you to the end of your bed. The change in angle was intense, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

You couldn't help but whimper, your body reacting to his words and actions. You felt so exposed, so used, but in the best way possible. His strokes grew deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made your toes curl. Harry's eyes searched yours, watching your reactions with a hunger that only grew with every moan that left your lips.

Your inner muscles started to pulse, your stomach started to churn, your orgasm was very close, and Harry's quick pace wasn't going to delay it.

"H–Harry." You stuttered quietly in an attempt to warn him of your nearing climax.

"Mm, I know," he murmured, his eyes dark with need. "I can feel you getting tighter around me." His thumb found your clit, circling it with the perfect amount of pressure to push you over the edge. "'Gonna scream my name? Let the neighbors know whose fucking you good?"

You screamed out his name over and over again, begging him not to stop. A smirk was painted on his face, his name continuously leaving your mouth inflating his ego.

You bit your lip to stifle the cry that wanted to escape as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking with the intensity of it. Harry's eyes never left yours, watching you fall apart beneath him with a mix of satisfaction and hunger.

As the final waves of pleasure subsided, Harry leaned down, his body pressing you into the bed. His cock was still hard, still deep inside you, and he began to move again, slower now, savoring the feel of you around him. His kisses grew more gentle, his hands caressing your body as he whispered into your ear.

"Where can I cum, baby? Your tits? Your pretty face?"

"Inside me." Without thinking the words left your mouth, you froze in shock...you had just met this man days ago. For whatever reason his dominance made you think before speaking. "If-if you want to...I'm on birth control...you don't have to..."

He looked at you for a moment before a smug smirk grew on his face. "Here I was thinking you were a little innocent girl."

Without giving you time to process his words, Harry started to pick up his pace, his cock sliding in and out of you with renewed vigor. You felt your body respond, your hips rising to meet his thrusts. The feeling of his bare cock inside of you was something new and thrilling, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "You want it all, don't you? You want to feel me fill you up."

Your body responded with a desperate nod, your legs tightening around his waist. Harry chuckled darkly, his grip on your ankles never wavering. "Good girl," he murmured, his thumbs pressing into your hips. He began to move faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. The pleasure was almost unbearable, the friction of his bare cock against your sensitive walls making you scream his name.

With each stroke, Harry's eyes grew darker, his breaths more ragged. You could feel his muscles tensing, his body preparing for his release. The anticipation was exhilarating, and you found yourself giving him the sweet submissive look he was looking for, urging him to his release.

"Fuck," Harry groaned, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound. "You're gonna make me cum, baby."

You felt your walls tighten around him, the sensation of him getting closer to climax making you even wetter. You nodded eagerly, your voice breathy and needy. "Fuck, Harry," you encouraged, the words coming out in a rush. "Cum inside me."

Harry thrust one last time, his cock swelling and pulsing as he emptied himself into you. You felt the warmth of his release fill you up, the sensation of his hot cum sending another wave of pleasure crashing through your body. He collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breaths mingling in the quiet room. The air was thick with the scent of sex, your bodies damp with sweat. Harry's heart pounded against your chest, and you could feel his breath against your neck as he kissed you softly.

He pulled out of you, his eyes searching yours, and you could see the gentle concern in them. "You okay?" he murmured, his voice tender. But even as he asked, there was a hint of the playboy in his tone...you could tell that was something he had asked plenty of girls before, a reminder of who he was and what this was.

"Yeah," there was an awkward silence between you. "We should get cleaned up...before Sofia gets home."

You felt Harry's weight shift as he stood up, leaving you feeling empty and cold without his warmth. He offered you a hand, helping you to your feet. His gentleness was surprising after the raw passion you had just shared, and it left you feeling a little off-balance. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

He grabbed a towel from the floor, handing it to you before grabbing one for himself. Harry's gaze was still intense, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush hair from your face. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you again, but instead, he leaned in and whispered, "You're something else."

The words hung in the air, leaving you feeling both flattered and a little unsure. He was still Harry, the playboy, but for a brief moment, you had seen a glimpse of something more vulnerable beneath the surface. He stepped back, the mask of nonchalance slipping back into place.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs jolted you back to reality. "Shit," you hissed, your eyes widening. "Sofia's home."

"Fuck," you whispered, your eyes darting around the room. You grabbed you clothes off the floor and began to quickly get dressed. "I better get back to my room." Before Harry could say anything, you left, peeking behind the door, before racing to your room when you saw the coast was clear.

You barely had time to sit down on the bed, your heart racing when you heard Harry's footsteps descending the stairs. His voice grew clearer as he approached the living room where you knew Sofia was waiting. "Hey," he called out, the sound of his voice so casual it was almost jarring after what had just happened. "Just dropping off some stuff in my old room."

Sofia's voice followed, a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "Okay, where's Y/N?"

You could hear Harry's footsteps stop, the beat of his heart echoing in the silence. He took a moment before responding, "Oh, she went to bed like an hour ago."

You had just had sex with your best friend's brother, in the house where you both would be staying for the weekend. The gravity of the situation settled heavily in the pit of your stomach, making you feel sick.

The sound of their conversation grew muffled as you lay back on the bed, trying to catch your breath. You had to play it cool, act like nothing had happened. You couldn't let this ruin your friendship with Sofia, or Harry's relationship with his sister.

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scarletwants · 11 months ago

Text

million dollar man.

18+ notes: my sweet, flawed english man:’). summary: billy butcher finds solace and deepens his bond with you during a tender, intimate night after a rough day. warnings: soft billy, mature content, oral (f! receiving). discretion is advised. word count: 1.7k

You knew Butcher had a temper, a way of seeing red that could make anyone in their right mind stay clear of his path. But it was different with you. He had a soft spot, a rare vulnerability that he guarded jealously from the rest of the world. But tonight, he was late. And that wasn’t like him.

The clock on the wall ticked louder as the minutes dragged on. You tried to focus on the book in your lap, but your mind kept wandering back to Butcher. The scars that crisscrossed his back, the shadows that darkened his eyes, the rare smiles that lit up his face. He was complicated, infuriating, but he was also the man you’d come to care for more deeply than you’d ever thought possible.

The door creaked open and you snapped your head up. Butcher stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his usually sharp eyes dulled by fatigue.

“Hey,” you said softly, closing your book and standing up.

“Hey, love,” he replied, his voice rough around the edges. He stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and you noticed the blood staining his shirt.

“Jesus, Billy, you’re hurt,” you exclaimed, rushing over to him. He waved you off, but you could see the pain etched on his face.

“Just a scratch,” he muttered, but you weren’t convinced. You guided him to the couch, making him sit down while you went to fetch the first aid kit.

When you returned, Butcher had already started to unbutton his shirt, revealing a nasty gash on his side. You winced at the sight, but kept your expression neutral. He didn’t need pity; he needed someone who could help.

“Hold still,” you said, kneeling beside him and carefully cleaning the wound. He hissed through his teeth but didn’t flinch away.

“Bloody hell, that stings,” he grumbled.

“Well, maybe next time don’t pick fights with people twice your size,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. He snorted, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Can’t help it. It’s in me nature.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, well, your nature’s going to get you killed one of these days.”

“Not if you keep patchin’ me up,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. There was a sincerity in his gaze that took you by surprise. You finished bandaging him up and sat back, feeling the weight of his stare.

“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly. “Why do you stay?”

The question caught you off guard. You’d asked yourself the same thing many times, especially on nights like these when the danger seemed too close. But the answer was always the same.

“Because I care about you,” you said simply. “And because I know there’s more to you than what everyone else sees.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I’m not a good man, love. I’ve done things…”

“We’ve all done things,” you interrupted gently. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a chance to be better.”

He didn’t respond, but you could see the internal struggle playing out on his face. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, and squeezed it gently.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Billy. Let me help.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m scared,” he admitted in a whisper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“Of what?” you asked softly.

“Of losing you. Of letting you in and then watching you walk away.”

Your heart ached at his words. You knew he’d been hurt before, that he carried more scars on the inside than the ones that marred his skin. But you also knew that he was worth the risk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Not as long as you want me here.”

He looked up, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit. Finding none, he nodded slowly. “I want you here. More than anything.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his grip on your hand tightening as if afraid you might slip away.

The apartment was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant traffic outside. Butcher and you had spent the evening wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. The bandage on his side was a stark reminder of the dangers he faced daily, but tonight, you wanted to focus on the here and now.

Butcher's hands roamed your back, his touch firm yet tender as he pulled you closer on the couch. You could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and intoxicating.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his dark hair. "You're not so bad yourself, Butcher."

He chuckled, the sound low and gravelly, vibrating against your throat. "Not sure what I did to deserve you, love."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," you teased, tilting your head to capture his lips in a soft kiss. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as he pressed you back against the cushions. His hands slipped under your shirt, caressing your sides with a possessive tenderness that made your heart race.

"Let me show you how much I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Before you could respond, he was lifting your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening with hunger as he took in the sight of you.

"Billy," you breathed, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he trailed kisses down your chest, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin. He paused at the waistband of your pants, his gaze locking with yours.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, laced with an unexpected vulnerability.

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Please."

With a growl of approval, he undid your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear in one swift motion. You were left exposed before him, your skin tingling with the cool air and the intensity of his gaze.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread them apart. He lowered himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as he trailed kisses closer to your core. The first touch of his tongue against your folds sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your back arching off the couch.

"Billy," you moaned, your voice barely more than a whisper. He groaned in response, his hands holding your hips steady as he delved deeper, his tongue swirling around your clit with a skill that left you breathless.

He took his time, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks, his eyes watching your every reaction. You could feel the tension building inside you, the pleasure mounting with every flick of his tongue. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, don't stop," you begged, your fingers tightening in his hair as you teetered on the brink of release. He growled against you, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Butcher didn't stop, his tongue continuing its relentless assault as he milked every last drop of pleasure from you. You cried out his name, your vision blurring as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

Finally, when you could take no more, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless all over again.

"You taste fucking amazing," he growled against your mouth, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate act only heightening your desire for him.

"I need you, Billy," you whispered, your voice raw with need. "I need all of you."

He didn't need any more encouragement. In one fluid motion, he was shedding his clothes, his body pressing against yours as he settled between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the hard length of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm sure," you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. "I want you. All of you."

With a groan, he entered you, the sensation overwhelming as he filled you completely.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

He set a steady rhythm, his movements growing more urgent as he lost himself in you. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together in harmony.

The world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was the connection between you, the unspoken promises and the love that bound you together.

As you neared the edge once more, you felt him falter, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered your name. With a final, shuddering thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together, your cries of pleasure mingling in the stillness of the night.

Afterward, you lay tangled in each other's arms, the sweat cooling on your skin as you caught your breath. Butcher pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hold on you gentle but unyielding.

"I love you," he murmured, the words carrying a weight that made your heart swell.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt.

In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always be his side. He was your million dollar man after all.

#the boys x reader #the boys imagine #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #— lena writes 🔖

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moonlightwritingf1 · 5 months ago

Text

The taste of desire | LN4

�� summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando share a flirtatious, passionate moment while cooking, ending with a kiss and a mutual desire to explore their chemistry.

🥧 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🥧 word count ━━━━━━━ 4k

🥧 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The sizzle of oil in the pan filled the kitchen, a gentle symphony that masked the undeniable thrum of tension between them. Y/N stood at the counter, her hands moving with precision as she chopped vegetables, the knife gliding effortlessly through carrots and celery. Her focus was sharp, but every now and then, she’d catch Lando out of the corner of her eye—his tall frame leaning casually against the fridge, his arms crossed, his lips twitching into a smirk whenever their gazes met.

He’s watching me. The thought sent a flutter through her chest, quick and insistent, like a hummingbird beating its wings. She shook it off, forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand. But no matter how hard she tried, the air between them felt charged, crackling with something she couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore either.

“Need some help?” Lando asked, pushing off the fridge and sauntering over. His voice was smooth, casual, but there was an edge to it that made her stomach dip.

“I think I’ve got it,” she replied, not looking up. Her tone was light, but her fingers tightened around the knife handle as he came closer. The warmth of his presence seemed to wrap around her, magnetic and impossible to resist.

“You sure?” He was right behind her now, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Because I’m pretty handy in the kitchen.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, arching an eyebrow. “Handy, huh?''

“Totally,” he said, flashing her that grin of his—the one that made her heart skip a beat. “I can chop faster than you can.”

“Oh, really?” She turned fully to face him, tilting her head. “Care to prove it?”

For a moment, he just stared at her, those blue/ green eyes of his glinting with challenge. Then, without warning, he reached past her for the cutting board. His hand brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear.

“Watch and learn,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she watched his hands move with practiced ease, the knife slicing through the vegetables with precision. There was something undeniably captivating about the way he moved, the way he exuded confidence even in something as mundane as chopping carrots. And yet, it wasn’t just his skill that had her captivated. It was the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, the way his gaze lingered on her lips, the way his touch seemed to linger on her skin long after he pulled away.

“See?” he said after a moment, straightening up and giving her a triumphant smile. “Told you I was handy.”

“Hmm,” she replied, feigning disinterest as she turned back to the stove. But her cheeks burned, and she could still feel the ghost of his touch on her hand.

The rest of dinner prep passed in a blur of playful banter and stolen glances. Every time they reached for the same utensil or passed each other in the narrow space, their bodies would brush, sending sparks flying between them. Lando was relentless, his touches deliberate, his teasing comments loaded with double meanings. And Y/N? Well, she might have been playing it cool, but inside, she was a mess.

By the time they sat down to eat, the atmosphere between them had shifted completely. The air was thick with unspoken desire, the tension so palpable it felt like it could be cut with a knife. They talked and laughed, but every now and then, their eyes would meet, and the world would fall away—just the two of them, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes.

When dinner was done, Y/N stood to clear the table, but Lando stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “Let me,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to his hand before meeting his eyes. “It’s fine, really.”

“I know,” he replied, his grip tightening slightly. “But I want to.”

There was something in his tone, something raw and unfiltered, that made her pause. She swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat as she nodded. “Okay.”

As he moved around the table, collecting dishes, Y/N found herself watching him again. He was so different from anyone she’d ever known—confident, charming, with a devil-may-care attitude that somehow only added to his allure. And yet, there was something vulnerable about him too, something hidden beneath the surface that made her want to peel back the layers and see what lay beneath.

When he finished stacking the plates by the sink, he turned to her, his expression unreadable. “You know,” he said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, “I’ve been trying to keep my distance.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Have you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, taking a step toward her. “But it’s getting harder and harder.”

She couldn’t look away from him, her breath hitching as he closed the gap between them. “Why?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Because,” he said, his hands settling on her hips, “you make it impossible.”

Impossible. The word echoed in her mind as she looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. His hands were warm against her skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine. And then, before she could say anything, he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss so soft, so tender, it took her breath away.

“Lando,” she murmured against his mouth, her hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair.

“Shh,” he whispered, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. “Just let go.”

Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. Every nerve in her body was hyper-aware of him—the warmth of his body against hers, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his fingers felt like they were burning through the thin fabric of her shirt. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. ''We should finish our dessert first.''

He laughed softly, a sound that sent vibrations through her entire body. “Dessert will still be there,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. “And so will I.”

Before she could respond, his hands slid higher, his fingertips tracing the underside of her ribs as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Y/N gasped, her legs going weak beneath her. She reached out blindly, grabbing for the edge of the counter to steady herself, but Lando’s grip on her was firm, holding her in place as his lips trailed fire along her skin.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she muttered, half-heartedly trying to push him away. But there was no real force behind the movement, and they both knew it. Her hands lingered on his shoulders, her nails digging into the soft fabric of his shirt as she swayed closer to him.

Lando smirked against her neck, clearly pleased with himself. “Crazy good or crazy bad?” he teased, his voice light but his touch anything but casual. His hands moved again, one sliding up to cup her jaw while the other traced down her spine, sending shivers cascading through her.

“Both,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her cheeks flushed as she spoke, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when he was looking at her like that, like she was everything he wanted and nothing he could ever have enough of.

“Good,” he said simply, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone before he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. It was quick, almost chaste, but it left her breathless all the same. When he pulled back, his blue/ green eyes were dark with desire, his smile gone now, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the heat rising between them, the tension so thick it was almost tangible. And yet, despite the way her body screamed at her to give in, she hesitated. There was something electric about this moment, something dangerous, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to dive headfirst into whatever this was between them.

But Lando didn’t give her time to think. He was relentless, his hands moving with purpose as he guided her backward, until her thighs hit the edge of the countertop. “Lando—” she started to protest, but he didn’t let her finish. Instead, he kissed her again, harder this time, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a confidence that left no room for argument.

Y/N moaned against his lips, her hands fisting in his hair as she surrendered to the sensation. She could feel the hardness of the counter digging into her thighs, but it hardly registered amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Lando’s hands were everywhere—on her waist, her hips, her cheeks—his touch searing through her clothes and straight to her core.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered against her mouth, his voice rough with need. “You feel so fucking good.”

His words only fueled her own desire, her body arching toward his as she deepened the kiss. She could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh, and it sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. This was reckless, impulsive, but right now, she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he made her feel, wanted, desired, needed.

Lando broke the kiss then, his breathing heavy as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And I will.”

But neither of them really believed it. Y/N stared up at him, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and shook her head. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s eyes darkened further at her response, and without another word, he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter. Y/N gasped as her legs parted instinctively, giving him access to where she needed him most. His hands gripped her thighs, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just above her knees as he leaned in closer.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice nearly breaking. His breath was hot against her ear, his lips brushing against the shell as he spoke. “So beautiful.”

Y/N shivered, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she tried to steady herself. But Lando didn’t let her stay still for long. He kissed her again, his tongue delving deep as his hands roamed her body with possessive intent. One hand slid up her side, cupping her breast through the fabric of her shirt, while the other gripped her thigh.

“Fuck,” she gasped, her head falling back as his touch set her alight. She could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs, her body aching for more. “Lando…”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. “I can feel how much you want me.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she lost herself in the sensation.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.” he whispered, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice breaking as she met his gaze. “Yes, I want you. I need you.”

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and rough, barely more than a whisper. His gaze dropped to her lips, waiting for her response with a patience that suggested he’d give her all the time she needed—though his body pressed closer, demanding otherwise.

She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushed, her voice soft but firm. “Yes. I want you, Lando. Don’t stop.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and he leaned in, brushing his mouth against hers. The kiss was gentle at first, a teasing exploration that made her grip his shoulders harder. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more—needed more. Her lips parted, inviting him deeper, and he obliged, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers in a dance of desire.

God, he tasted incredible. Everything about him felt electric, from the way his his hand was gripping her thigh to the steady beat of his heart against her chest. She could feel the hard length of him through his jeans, pressing insistently against her thigh, and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her at the realization.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured against her lips, his tone raw with longing. “So open, so ready for me.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, her nerves bubbling to the surface despite the growing heat between them. “Open? I’m not exactly in control here, Lando. You’re the one who put me on this counter.”

His eyes darkened, and he pulled back slightly, his hand leaving her breast to cup her cheek. “And you love it, don’t you? Admit it. You love how much I want you.”

The words sent a thrill through her, making her heart race. She did love it—loved the way he looked at her, as though she were the only thing that mattered. Loved the way his touch turned her insides to liquid fire. “Maybe I do,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s grin was predatory, and he moved faster, his hands working her jeans down her legs with practiced efficiency. Y/N lifted her hips to help, her movements unsteady as she tried to balance while he stripped her bare. When she was free of the material, he knelt before her, his hands sliding up her thighs until they reached the fabric of her panties.

“Spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that made her knees weak.

She obeyed without hesitation, her legs parting as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and pulled them aside. The cool air hit her skin, and she gasped, her arousal already slick and evident. Lando’s eyes locked onto the sight, his pupils dilating as he drank in every detail.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick with awe. “You’re perfect.”

Before she could respond, his mouth descended on her, and the world shattered into a thousand pieces. His tongue swirled around her clit in lazy circles, drawing out her pleasure with agonizing precision. Y/N threw her head back, gripping the edge of the counter for support as waves of ecstasy crashed over her.

“Lando,” she cried out, her voice breaking as his tongue stabbed deeper, hitting that sensitive spot inside her that made her toes curl. “Oh my god, don’t stop!”

He didn’t. If anything, he intensified his efforts, flicking his tongue rapidly against her clit while his fingers probed at her entrance, teasing but not entering. It was pure torture, and Y/N loved every second of it. Her hips bucked against his face, desperate for release, but he held her steady, keeping her right on the edge.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice pleading. “Please, I need—”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice muffled against her core but still managing to convey the smug satisfaction of a man in complete control.

“You,” she gasped. “I need you. Inside me. Now.”

Lando pulled back, his eyes glittering with triumph as he stood and stepped closer. Y/N watched as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the smooth, lean muscles of his chest. Her hands itched to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips, but she forced herself to wait, knowing he wouldn’t keep her waiting long.

Sure enough, he was removing his jeans in seconds, kicking them aside with a smirk. Y/N’s breath caught as he stepped between her legs, his erection straining against his boxers. He hovered there for a moment, letting the anticipation build before hooking his thumbs into the fabric and pushing them down.

“Look at you,” she breathed, her voice awestruck as she took in the full length of him. “You’re… incredible.”

Lando chuckled, clearly amused by her reaction. “Only incredible?” he teased, reaching for the condom he’d placed on the counter earlier.

As he rolled it on, Y/N bit her lip, her nerves surging once more. This was it—finally, after weeks of tension and teasing, they were going to cross that line. And honestly? She couldn’t wait.

Lando must have sensed her eagerness because he positioned himself at her entrance without further delay. His eyes locked onto hers, searching for any trace of hesitation, but all he found was hunger. With a groan, he thrust forward, filling her in one smooth motion.

Y/N cried out, her back arching as the sensation overwhelmed her. It had been so long since she’d felt like this—so full, so wanted. Lando kissed her then, swallowing her gasp of pleasure as he began to move, withdrawing slowly before plunging back in with increasing urgency.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled against her lips, his thrusts growing rougher as he sought to claim her completely. “You feel so good. So tight around me.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she clung to him. Every stroke of his hips against hers sent shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through her body, and she could feel the telltale tingling in her lower belly signaling her approaching orgasm.

“Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m close. So close.”

He angled his hips, hitting that perfect spot inside her with ruthless precision. Y/N’s vision blurred as her climax shattered through her, her entire body tensing as she screamed his name. Lando followed soon after, his thrusts stuttering as he spilled himself inside her, his head falling to her shoulder as he panted for breath.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as their hearts slowed and their breathing returned to normal. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, marveling at how perfect everything felt—how right.

The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rattle of a pot handle swaying in the breeze from the open window. The air was thick with the scent of garlic and rosemary, but beneath it all lingered something sweeter—something undeniably intimate.

Y/N lay sprawled across the counter, her legs still wrapped around Lando’s waist, though he had shifted to rest his weight on his elbows beside her. His chest rose and fell heavily, his skin glistening with sweat, while she traced lazy patterns over his back, savoring the warmth of his body against hers. Their breaths mingled, slow and steady now, as if they were both reluctant to break the spell that had just passed between them.

“That…” Lando began, his voice low and rough, “was incredible.”

She laughed softly, a sound that was tinged with disbelief. “You don’t have to say that.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching hers. “I don’t have to, but I want to. You feel amazing, Y/N. You always do.”

Her cheeks flushed at the intensity of his gaze, though she couldn’t help but smile. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

He grinned, that familiar glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “Only when I’m with you.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Instead, her fingers found their way to his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over his stubble. “Lando…”

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “Yeah?”

“What even is this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Between us, I mean.”

His grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine consideration. “What do you want it to be?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. What did she want? She wanted to say everything, to demand he commit to her fully, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she settled for honesty. “I don’t know. But right now… it feels like something.”

Lando nodded slowly, his expression softening. “It does. And I think… I think maybe we should figure it out together.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed hard. “Together?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice confident yet gentle. “I like being with you, Y/N. A lot. And I don’t want to stop. Not unless you tell me to.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her wanted to ask him what he meant, to press him for more details, but another part of her—the stronger part—just wanted to let it go. To live in this moment and trust that whatever came next would unfold naturally.

“Okay,” she whispered finally, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lando’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Okay.”

They fell silent again, the tension between them shifting from sexual to something deeper, something almost sacred. Y/N felt his hand slide down her side, coming to rest on her thigh, and she shivered at the gentle touch.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmured, his tone laced with awe.

She shook her head, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “No, I’m not. I’m just… me.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly. “And that’s all I need. Just you.”

Her chest tightened, and she looked away, afraid that if she met his gaze, she might burst into tears. Stop it, she scolded herself silently. Don’t ruin this.

“Hey,” Lando said gently, tipping her chin up until their eyes met. “Don’t hide from me, okay? Not now. Not ever.”

“I’m not hiding,” she lied, her voice cracking slightly.

He sighed, clearly unconvinced. “You are. And that’s okay. I get it. Trust me, I do. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. So you can take your time. Just… don’t push me away.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she nodded slowly. “I won’t.”

“Good,” he said, his smile returning. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft and lingering, a contrast to the intensity of their previous encounter. It was tender, affectionate, and it left her breathless in a completely different way.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N felt lighter, as if a weight she hadn’t realized she was carrying had been lifted off her shoulders. She glanced around the kitchen, noting the dishes they had abandoned earlier and the flour dusting the counter where they had worked side by side.

“We never finished our dessert ,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Lando chuckled, following her gaze. “I guess not. But honestly, I’m not sure I could eat anything after that.”

“Me neither,” she admitted, blushing slightly. “But we should probably clean up before someone walks in and thinks we’ve gone completely insane.”

He smirked, reaching for a towel. “Insane? Nah. We’re just having a good time.”

She shot him a playful glare. “Right. Because setting the kitchen on fire would be totally normal.”

“Hey, I didn’t set anything on fire,” he protested, draping the towel over his shoulder. “You’re the one who got distracted.”

“Distracted?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising an octave. “Lando, you literally pressed me against the counter and—”

He cut her off with a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, fair point. My bad.”

As they cleaned up and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, the banter continued, though now softer and less charged with the heightened energy that had fueled their earlier interactions. There was a new layer to their connection, one that made Y/N feel incredibly seen and understood in ways she hadn’t expected.

When the last dish was put away, Lando turned to her, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her close. “So… what now?”

She tilted her head, considering his question. “Now… we see where this goes. Together.”

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Sounds perfect.”

As his lips descended to meet hers once more, Y/N felt her resolve strengthen. Whatever came next, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t ready to walk away from this. Not yet.

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onlybeeewrites · 1 month ago

Text

Angel Eyes

Request: Hello I would like to request a Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader! I see that you also do starwars and it had me thinking. How would Coriolanus do if either your his tribute or a mentor or his wife? and a little kid came up to the reader and asked her if she was an Angel?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: classism, mentions of malnutrition/malnourishment, Coryo’s manipulation, slight diversion from canon for fic sake

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Capitol Zoo was unusually quiet that morning, as if the city itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the Games. The sky above was pale and washed-out, making the enclosures seem more like cages.

You walked slowly beside Coriolanus, your fingers brushing together before he finally gave in and laced his with yours. It was one of the few soft things about him—this quiet affection when no one was watching.

Well, when he thought no one was watching, at least.

His eyes were locked on the girl in the District 12 enclosure, her bright dress muted by the grim bars and stale air. Lucy Gray stood with her chin tilted high, a performer through and through, even in captivity.

You both watched her for a few moments—Coryo calculating, curious, captivated. You, quieter, unsure how to feel about the girl who smiled like she knew secrets.

“She’s different,” you murmured, your eyes trialing her up and down.

“She’s dangerous,” he replied. But there was something like admiration in his voice. Though you weren’t threatened by it.

After all, she was the one behind the bars; you weren’t.

You nodded once, then gently tugged his hand. “Come on. I want to see mine.”

Your tribute was a girl of only twelve, a slip of a thing with tangled hair and limbs too thin for her frame. She was tucked in a corner of the enclosure, knees pulled to her chest like she was trying to disappear.

You reached into the elegant satchel slung over your shoulder, the one your mother insisted matched your family’s station.

“A Tolston never leaves the house looking anything less than exceptional.” Was what your mother had always said to you.

The Tolstons were old money. Old, influential, and perpetually seated at the Capitol’s highest tables, with your father’s name on every infrastructure committee and your mother curating the Capitol’s most exclusive fashion exhibits.

You weren’t supposed to cry about the Games. You weren’t supposed to feel things for tributes. But it was different now that you were in charge of taking care of one, to try and help your tribute to win.

So here you were, with wrapped honeyed bread, pear slices and soft cheese tucked between embroidered linen napkins. A large fancy ‘T’ stitched into it.

“Hi,” you said gently. “This is for you.”

She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, hesitant. Then slowly, carefully, she stood and crept over, taking the bundle like it might vanish if she moved too quickly. Her fingers brushed yours, feather-light, and you smiled.

She stared at the food, then at you. And then she said, in a small, wonder-filled voice

The little girl stood on the other side of the bars, hay in her hair while she stood in the dirt. The food you had passed was clutched tight in her small hands like she was afraid someone would take it back.

“Are you an angel?” she asked, voice breathy, eyes too big for her thin face.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She nodded seriously, stepping a little closer. “An angel. My mama used to talk about them all the time. She said they were the most beautiful creatures in the world. That they come when you’re really scared. When you’re about to give up.”

Your heart twisted. “Oh, sweetheart…” you crouched lower so you were more at her level. “No. I’m not an angel. I’m just…” You hesitated, glancing at the food in her hands. “I’m someone who thinks you shouldn’t be hungry. Just someone who is looking after you,”

She frowned thoughtfully, tilting her head like a curious bird. “You look like one. Your voice is soft. Like my mama’s was.”

Behind you, the soft buzz of a camera lens adjusted, zooming in. You could feel the eyes of the Capitol watching—Lucky Flickerman’s commentary somewhere off to the side, smooth as ever.

“Your name is Lina, right?” you asked gently.

“Lina,” she said with a nod, “Lina Grove,”

“Lina Grove,” you repeated, giving her a small smile. “That’s a beautiful name. Mine’s—”

“I know,” she interrupted, suddenly shy. “They said your name on the screen when we got here. You’re the pretty girl that walks with the white-haired boy.”

You choked on a surprised laugh. “The white-haired boy?”

Coriolanus, who’d remained behind you but close, let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a scoff. His fingers tightened around yours—possessive, protective. “Charming,” he muttered under his breath.

Lina giggled.

“You’re funny,” she said to you. “And you smell nice. Not like the rest of this place.”

You leaned in conspiratorially. “That’s because I carry soap in my bag. Want me to sneak you some tomorrow?”

Her eyes lit up like you’d promised her a crown or the most sparkly jewels on earth.

“Really?” she whispered. “Even just to smell it?”

“Promise.”

She hugged the food to her chest like it was a lifeline. “Do angels make promises?”

You hesitated, just for a second. “Only the good ones, I suppose,”

Lucky’s voice rang out from somewhere behind the camera. “And there you have it, folks—our mentors are shining this year! Capitol hearts everywhere are absolutely melting.”

You stood slowly, wiping your hands on your skirt. Lina backed up a step but kept her eyes on you, like she wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

You gave her a nod. “Every day until the Games.”

She bit her lip. “Even after?”

Something in your chest fractured. And unfamiliar ache.

“I’ll try,” you whispered. “I’ll do everything I can, I promise,”

Coriolanus stepped closer, slipping his arm around your waist, his voice low beside your ear. “You’re going to make it very hard for them to forget her.”

You didn’t answer. Just watched as Lina sat back down with her food next to her district partner; an older boy maybe around 16. And, for the first time, looked like a child again.

And for a split moment you felt guilt.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The gravel path shimmered faintly beneath your shoes as you and Coriolanus walked away from the enclosure. The buzz of cameras had finally died down, Lucky Flickerman’s voice trailing off into some other scripted sentiment.

The air felt heavier now, quieter. As if your lungs were remembering how to breathe again the further you got away from it all.

You glanced back once—just once—toward where Lina now slept in one part of the zoo’s enclosure.

“She’s so little,” you said, more to yourself than him. “Twelve. She still has baby teeth, Coryo.”

His hand tightened on yours. Just a bit. Just enough. Though you didn’t see it, there was a small shift in the boy you loved so much.

“She’s a tribute,” he said, like it was supposed to explain everything. So simple. How could it be that simple?

“I know,” you murmured. “It’s just—” You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. “She called me an angel.”

“She’s scared. They all are.” His voice was soft but sure, like velvet hiding steel. “And you gave her exactly what she needed in that moment. Comfort. That’s not a bad thing, my love,”

You nodded slowly, but something still stirred beneath your ribs. Not outrage—nothing so dramatic. Just a quiet ache. A tug of something soft and uncertain.

He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt beside him. You looked up at him, and the Capitol haze made his blond hair shine almost silver. Stunning. He was absolutely stunning.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, brushing your hair from your face with careful fingers. “But we don’t get to be soft right now. Not when everything we want is within reach.”

You blinked up at him, uncertain.

He leaned closer, voice dropping like it was a secret meant only for you.

“We’re doing this for a reason. You and me. The mentor who make it out of this with winning tributes—our lives change. We move forward. Higher. We don’t get stuck in the mud like the rest of them. The Games are there for a reason. To keep the districts in line. But now they’re also the one place we get to prove ourselves.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening. Your eyes never leaving his, not once.

He slid his hand to your cheek. “You want a future, don’t you? Not just for her. For us.”

Your throat bobbed. “I do. Of course, I do, Coryo,”

He smiled then—slow, warm, like sunlight cutting through clouds.

“Then we play the game, my angel,” he said softly. “And we win it.”

Something about the way he said we made your pulse flutter. As if your names were already written into the Capitol’s future. As if this moment, however sharp around the edges, was only the beginning.

Like everything was already promised, and all you needed to do was just grab it.

You exhaled slowly, letting the guilt drift back into the shadows. He was right. He always had a way of being right. And you were grateful he was there to bring you back to common sense.

“I hate when you talk like that,” you whispered, lips curving into a reluctant smile.

“Why?” he teased.

“Because you always make me believe it.”

His grin widened, all charm and quiet power. He kissed the back of your hand, elegant and practiced. “Good.”

The two of you then continued down the path—two golden children of the Capitol, walking the road toward something both of you could only hope for; while Coryo was determined to grab.

A life he deserved, with plenty of money, power, and the Angel of the Captial at his side.

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wol-fica · 20 days ago

Note

hiiii! fluff request!

cuddly! sabrina carpenter x reader? perhaps a movie night or date on a day off?

thank you! will you say hi to beau and fifi from me? ♥️

—🐋

an - the cats say meow!

summary - ^

warnings - short lil smth, kissing (wanted yall to be fed while you wait for the big stuff)

———————————

You sighed through your nose, noises of kissing filling the living room. A cheesy slasher played in the background, the name of the film you could not remember for the life of you, but you were a little too preoccupied to try to pay attention to the screen.

Sabrina was in your lap, hands wound into your hair as she pushed her lips against yours, her hips gently rocking back and forth. She had been nosy and needy since she had woken up this morning, and with all the constant texting and occasional facetime calls you received while she was at the studio, you had a feeling that she would be all over you when she got home.

Your hands were placed on her hips, thumbs running up and down her skin over her underwear as you pulled her closer. She responded with a hum through her nose, choosing to deepen the kiss with her tongue slipping into your mouth. You groaned softly, a small smile curving onto your lips when she gently tugged on your hair.

“Someone’s needy.” You mused after pulling away, giggling when she chased your lips with a whine, “Easy tiger, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then kiss meeee.” She whined, attempting to pull you back in but stopping when you placed your finger on her lips.

“Just let me hold you.” You murmured, tapping her nose, “I missed seeing my gorgeous girl today.”

She blushed madly at your praise, her hands falling to her lap to play with her nails as she broke eye contact with you. You chuckled softly at her shyness, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead before scooting your hips forward to pull her down onto you. She complied immediately, locking her arms and legs around you and nuzzling her face into your neck as soon as you got comfortable.

“Baby.” You asked, pushing her hair away from her neck, “How was the studio today?”

“…was fine…” Sabrina mumbled, her voice muffled, “…wish you were there…”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm.”

“I didn’t think so with the two hundred texts and calls I received all day.” You teased, pressing your lips to her neck.

She shivered from your touch, craning her neck so you had more access to her skin. You left little kisses all around, occasionally nibbling and licking when you felt like teasing her, but not going so far to leave any marks.

Her hips shifted backwards more, her back falling into that pretty arch that made your brain all fuzzy when you saw it, and she pulled her up to rest on your chest instead of tucked into you. She pressed a few kisses to your collar bone, her hand coming to rest directly over your heart, and turned her attention to the movie that still played on the screen.

“Comfortable?” You asked, pressing a sweet kiss to her hair, “You’re so warm.”

Sabrina hummed, pressing her weight against you. Her legs tightened around your waist, her hands sliding up under your shirt to rest on your sides.

“Have I ever told you how much I like you?” She murmured, running her fingertips along your skin.

You hesitated, unsure of the answer she wanted. The two of you haven’t exactly used the “L” word in your relationship yet, but it was something you had been trying to figure out how to say to her for a while. Touring and awards take up most of her time, and with your job as an assistant manager for a local retail store, you haven’t had the chance to say that dreaded word.

“I would hope so.” You replied, playing with a lock of her hair, “We DID just make out for like an hour.”

“Mhm.” She replied softly, her eyes trained on the ground.

You picked up on that, taking her chin in your hand to peer at her face, “You’re zoning out, what’s up?”

She pursed her lips, looking at you in a pondering manner before pushing herself up to sit on your stomach. Your hands found her thighs, rubbing the soft skin gently. Her fingers were dancing around her knuckles, massaging her skin as a stimulant method for her anxiety.

“Um.” She started, tearing her eyes away from yours, “I wanna say…”

You stayed quiet, patient for her.

“I…”

Her voice seemed to die off each time she tried to speak, which peaked your curiosity more.

“I…god damn why is this so hard…I think…”

“Baby.” You said, sitting up more to grasp at her waist, “If you don’t feel like you can say whatever you’re trying to say, then don’t.”

She shook her head, waving you down to shush you. Her fingers slotted themselves between yours, resting them between the two of you.

“I…love you.” She blurted, closing her eyes tightly,“Ifitstoosoonimsorryivejustbeenthinkingaboutthissinceforev-.”

You were quick to interrupt her rambles, wrapping your arms around her and pushing your lips against hers. She let out a muffled groan, falling into your embrace naturally.

“I love you too, idiot.” You murmured, smiling when she giggled.

———————

not the ending i wanted but i needed to get this out of my drafts before i went absolutely insane

#wolfi random #sabrina carpenter x y/n #sabrina carpenter x fem!reader #sabrina carpenter smut #sabrina carpenter x you #sabrina carpenter fanfic #sab #sabrina #sabrinasource #sabrina carpenter #sabrina carpenter x reader

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sofs16 · 1 year ago

Text

foodie

been obsessed with chicken shop date ep w lando so you already know…(this oneshot is really bad sorry)

sorry ive been ia:/ i will be updating let you break my heart again this week!!!!! hope you’re all doing well<3 love, sof!

ynfoodtrip

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 6,383,282 others ynfoodtrip link in bio 🧡

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ynsfoodie

liked by 4,272 others

ynsfoodie no because wtf is LANDO NORRIS doing with my wife subtly FLIRTING WITH HER AND ASKING HER TO FOLLOW HIM BACK😭😭😭😭😭 SHE GAVE NO NOTICE FOR THIS VIDEO.

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ynsbabe she just followed him back😭

ynfoodtrip

liked by landonorris, and 2,188,282 others

ynfoodtrip Just a casual Wednesday, you?

view all comments

landonorris My boo😍

⤷ ynfoodtrip my pookie😘🧡

⤷ landonorris What’s a pookie

⤷ ynfoodtrip means you’re cute

landonorris Having a wonderful morning, thank you for the follow! ⤷ ynfoodtrip Good to know, hope it carries on that way!

ynsbabe … GET AWAY LANDO NORRIS SHE WAS MINE FIRST

user1 i can’t even blame Lando, look at her!!!

[ liked by landonorris ]

| MESSAGES BETWEEN YN AND LANDO

LANDO SPEEDY DRIVER

you think i’m cute?

YN FOOD EXPERT

Did i give off the impression I didn’t think that?

LANDO SPEEDY DRIVER

I don’t want to assume;)

| MESSAGES BETWEEN CARLOS AND LANDO

CARL IN CARLANDO

My pookie🥹😍❤️🤙😏

LANDO IN CARLANDO

Shutttupppppp

I don’t know how to flirt help me

CARL IN CARLANDO

You flirted for a good 10 minutes in your Youtube video, disgusting

LANDO IN CARLANDO

i really like herrrrr but i dont know how to let her know mate

CARL IN CARLANDO

Take her out to dinner

ynfoodtrip

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and others

ynfoodtrip 10/10

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user4 if i didn’t know better i’d think this was a date with lando norris….

ynsupdate THE TWO PLATES AND WINE 😭😭😭

landonorris’ instagram story | ♫ my girl • temptations

replies

user3 THIS IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED

user2 i see you yn….

user5 LANDO BF ERA

carlossainz55 I’m guessing the date 2 months ago went well😂

⤷ landonorris Very well

⤷ landonorris My rizz was enough😜

⤷ carlossainz55 Why are you lying...

ynfoodtrip

liked by landonorris, and 4,283,585 others

ynfoodtrip It’s so romantic in Parissss

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sabrinacarpenter 🧡🧡🧡

user1 so gf coded.

user7 we know it’s lando, yn… STOP SOFT LAUNCHING ITS BEEN 3 MONTHS

user8 would’ve been believable it wasnt lando if he continued commenting on her posts like he did for 10 months😭

ynfoodtrip

liked by landonorris, and 7,262,585 others

ynfoodtrip

view all 2,684,293 comments

landonorris my boo (for real this time)

user2 the no caption is so real

carlossainz55 Hello, sister in law! 👧

⤷ landonorris mate..

⤷ ynfoodtrip Hi, Carlos Sainz Brotha in law! 👶

⤷ user38 THE BABY EMOJI😭

landonorris

liked by ynfoodtrip, and 9,473,684 others

landonorris been in love with you before that video that further made me want to spend every millisecond with you

view all 3,372,281 comments

ynfoodtrip ngl ive been following your f1/ karting journey since you were 11…..

⤷ landonorris WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT AHOUT THIS

ynfoodtirp i love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuüùúūûü:)

⤷landonorris i love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuüùúūûüuuuuuüùúūûüuuuuuüùúūûü too:)

#f1 fanfic #landonorris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader

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granat-sof · 10 months ago

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How do leo and micky interact with the rest of the rd cast?

Think it's finally time to answer this cus it's very interesting :P

So, one of most common babysitters for little Leo are Ada and ian, they quickly get the status of uncle and auntie from Leo and he's willing to visit them even when he's older. Micky...has a difficult relationship with Paige family. His unpleasant experience with his own mom really make him feel weird around various mother figures that Ada does become at the point of Micky's arrival. The better Micky handles their issues the more warmed up he is to Paige family as they accept them easily as a Leo's family member. But he's never really close with them, just finds it being nice around them.

Another one of Leo's beloved aunties is Hailey! Imagining Miner actually. Paying her cus she deserves it. Hailey isn't exactly an older sister figure for Leo, but pretty close. And Logan honestly does not get along with little kids and grows on Leo only when he's older. Hailey and Micky really do not get along because of how different they are. Hailey is just too outgoing and bubbly for them. Logan is a different case with him being less assertive, but Micky honestly cannot take any more relationship drama so their conversations never last long.

Cole and Nicole were actually debating whether if they want to be parents or not but. Spending one tough day with Leo really made them make up their mind and actually having a babygirl Gella. Leo sees them as auntie and uncle too and is honestly not a big fan of Cole's music but often ends up his test audience. Pretty harshly honest I may add, but without any malicious intension, Leo just says what he feels. Nicole is a common pick whenever Leo has a question about girls but it still does not help him. Micky absolutely despises the Ting-Brew household purely for Gella, but Cole and Nicole are alright to him. Nicole is just cool and Cole is a huge goofball and "no I'm not listening to your playlist leave me alone". Micky is brutally honest as well

Aaaand that's all for now!!!

#rhythm doctor #fanon #jonronero smith #sof replying to asks #fanchild

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r3starttt · 9 months ago

Text

VELVET RING

PAIRING: abby anderson x reader

CW: fluff. brief-non detailed mention of overwhelming thoughts such as stress, pressure, and insecurities.

SUMMARY: sweet kisses and plump lips that make your worries go away.

The front door creaked open, and Abby stepped inside, the familiar scent of home mingling with the faint hint of sweat from her workout. She toed off her sneakers and glanced around, her eyes softening as they landed on you.

You were curled up on the couch, looking a bit worn out and overwhelmed. The TV droned softly in the background, its low volume barely masking the silence that filled the house during Abby’s absence. The weight of the day pressed down on you, your shoulders slumped and your eyes heavy with fatigue. Everything seemed to be too much—yourself, life, stress, the constant push to achieve and be productive, never allowing a moment to simply rest. You had been too exhausted to muster the energy for anything else.

Your gaze wandered until it settled on her. Blonde, sweat-dampened locks of hair framed her face, stray strands clinging to her forehead. The usual perfect braid was replaced by an explosion of messy baby hairs and loose strands. Her white tank top revealed a sports bra beneath, matching her black workout pants. As she walked, her white socks made the floor beneath her creak with each step.

Even in your vulnerable state, the sight of her stirred a desire to be near her, to feel her presence. Abby sat on the edge of the couch, gently moving your legs to make space. The pads of her fingers caressed the bare flesh of your ankles, sliding down to massage your feet.

“How was the gym?” you asked, clinging to the routine of hearing about her progress.

"Good," she replied with a nod, hesitating slightly as her grip on your flesh tightened momentarily before relaxing. "There was this guy—so loud, as if that helps him lift more."

You chuckled softly. "Groaning and everything?"

"Groaning and everything," she confirmed with a roll of her eyes and a small laugh.

Your eyes roamed over her face, taking in every detail. She turned her attention to your feet, focused on the massage. "You good?" she asked hesitantly, making your heart warm.

Her question held layers of love and care, and you felt a rush of emotion. You didn’t know what to say. Claiming you were fine felt like a lie, and you knew she wanted to understand the reason behind your exhaustion. Yet, if you admitted you weren’t okay, she’d want to talk about it, and you weren’t sure you could handle that. Lost in your inner debate, you didn't notice her standing until she was right in front of you.

Abby’s hands were gentle as she helped you up, guiding you with care. You furrowed your brow, confused about what you had missed while lost in thought.

“Gonna shower, come on,” she said softly.

She started the water, adjusting it to the perfect temperature, then turned her attention back to you, her eyes filled with tender concern. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” she murmured, gently removing your shirt and sliding it off your shoulders. She undressed you with care, her touch both soothing and intimate. Once you were undressed, she quickly shed her own workout gear and stepped into the shower, pulling you in with her.

The warm water cascaded over both of you, washing away the tension. Abby’s hands moved with practiced ease, massaging the knots from your shoulders and back. Her touch was firm yet gentle, each movement radiating her love and care. You leaned into her, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, the water cascading all over you.

Her hands reached for the shampoo, lathering it in her fingers before gently massaging it into your hair, the callouses on her pads working through the strands with meticulous care.

As the water rinsed away the soap, Abby’s hands never left you, her presence a constant source of comfort. When she finished washing your hair, she turned to tend to her own, and you helped her, your fingers undoing her braid and applying shampoo to her scalp. The warm water enveloped you both in a cocoon of comfort. You moved aside so she could rinse the soap from her hair, her arms encircling you protectively.

You sighed, feeling the tension melt away as you rested against her. The warm water, combined with Abby’s comforting presence, created a haven of peace and tranquility. She pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, her lips lingering as if to imprint her love into your skin.

“I’m here for you,” she whispered, her breath warm against your ear. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

You closed your eyes, letting the sound of her voice and the steady beat of her heart soothe your frayed nerves. The world outside faded away. In that moment, you felt utterly cherished and safe, knowing that with Abby by your side, everything would be okay. The worries and exhaustion of the day dissolved, replaced by a profound sense of peace and love.

You turned slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her jawline. “I know," you whispered, her arms tightening around you. “Always, babe. I’ll always take care of you.”

#( 𓍼𓈀A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ⨟ 𓍯 abby )#( 𝕽EQ'S﹕⠀ ❪ Abby ❫#this was so cute SO CUTEEEEEE #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x y/n #abby x reader fluff #abby fluff #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x you

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 year ago

Text

Misunderstandings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Sofia knew what she was doing when mentioning Rafe to you, and she also knew what she was doing when she told you that he never mentioned you, his girlfriend.

Warnings: swearing, fluff at the end, angst

Word count: 873

A/n: kinda really don’t like Sofia 😄

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Hey, what can I get you?” asks a smiling girl you don’t recognize. She approaches the three of you as you and your close friends settle into the bar stools at the country club, ready to enjoy lunch and catch up. It’s been two weeks since you returned from visiting family overseas, and this gathering feels long overdue.

“Just the usual, please, Sofia,” your friends Kaycee and Jada say with a smile to the brunette server. Her natural beauty was almost unfair. “Coming right up. And for you?” she asks, turning to you. “Oh, uh, the same as them, please,” you respond.

She nods with a soft smile before turning around to start on your drinks. “Is she new?” you inquire, gesturing subtly towards Sofia as your friends glance over at her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. She started just when you left,” Kaycee responds, her attention shifting back to the menu. You nod slowly in acknowledgment, taking in the information before refocusing your attention on the conversation.

“Is Rafe joining us?” Kaycee inquires, her tone laced with curiosity as she turns her gaze towards you. Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sofia interjects with unexpected enthusiasm, her eyes lighting up. “Rafe’s coming?” Her bubbly expression catches you off guard, and you exchange surprised glances with your friends, wondering why she’s so ecstatic about your boyfriend’s arrival.

There’s a brief moment of silence as you all process Sofia’s reaction, the atmosphere around the table becoming slightly more charged with curiosity. You can’t help but wonder if there’s more to Sofia’s excitement than meets the eye, but before you can dwell on it further, Jada interjects.

“Rafe is—” Before she can finish her sentence, you quickly kick her lightly on the shin to shut her up. “Yeah, he is. You know Rafe?” you smoothly interject, trying to keep your relationship with Rafe a secret for now.

You watch Sofia closely, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm. To your surprise, she responds with a wide smile, her dimples on full display.

“Yeah. Yeah— he’s pretty cute. Great company too when I’m closing up,” Sofia remarks casually, her tone tinged with a hint of admiration. You raise an eyebrow at her words, sensing a shift in the conversation.

“Really?” you inquire, trying to conceal your surprise. Sofia chuckles softly as she dries a few cups, her movements graceful and effortless. “Yeah, you’d think he has a girlfriend, right? With all that charm he has,” she muses, a small sigh escaping her lips.

You exchange a quick glance with Jada and Kaycee, both of them wearing wide-eyed expressions that mirror your own astonishment.

Ignoring the wide-eyed looks from Jada and Kaycee and the unsettling feeling creeping up from your stomach, you clear your throat, attempting to maintain composure. “I for sure thought that he had a girlfriend,” you say, feigning innocence as you try to mask the rising anger within you.

Sofia shakes her head, her demeanor casual as she continues drying the cups. “Nope. He never mentioned he had one,” she replies, her tone nonchalant.

You roll your tongue against your cheek as you lean back, a wave of frustration nearly bubbling over. Despite your efforts to keep calm, the revelation leaves you feeling betrayed and unsure of what to make of Rafe’s silence about his relationship status.

Your phone suddenly pings, breaking the tension, and you glance down at it, noticing a text from Rafe saying he’s on his way. “That’s really interesting. Thanks for letting me know, Sof,” you say with forced politeness, though your lips purse together and you cross your arms, staring down at your feet, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Letting you know what?” Sofia innocently chuckles, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind. Without answering her, you and your friends silently agree to move to another table to have your meals, needing some distance from the uncomfortable conversation.

“What the fuck,” Jada whispers angrily as you walk away from the bar, her frustration palpable. “How does she not know you’re Rafe’s girlfriend? Everyone on this damn island knows it,” Kaycee adds, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As you find a new table, the weight of Sofia’s obliviousness hangs heavy in the air, leaving you to wonder how Rafe could have kept such a significant detail about your relationship hidden from someone you thought was just a casual acquaintance.

You scoff, the frustration and anger boiling over as you aggressively put your purse on the table. “Obviously not her, because Rafe made her believe that he was fucking single. What a fucking dick,” you huff, the bitterness evident in your voice.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You thought you could trust Rafe, especially after being with him for years now and never bumping into an issue like this. You would have never thought he’d do something like this, keeping such a significant detail about your relationship hidden and potentially leading someone else on.m, especially with how protective he is of you outside.

Fifteen minutes later, you notice Jada and Kaycee awkwardly looking at something behind you, and you can sense that it’s Rafe approaching. You feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, and he leans down to kiss your cheek, but you keep your gaze fixed elsewhere, unimpressed by his display of affection.

The tension in the air is palpable as you struggle to maintain composure, feeling a mixture of resentment and disappointment toward Rafe for his recent actions.

“Hey,” Rafe says to you, but you remain quiet, refusing to engage with him. “Ladies,” he greets your friends with a forced smile as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Hi,” they both respond awkwardly, exchanging glances. The next few seconds are filled with tense silence as Rafe attempts to decipher your mood.

“Uh, we’re just gonna go to the bathroom,” Jada announces suddenly, her voice strained as she gets up, pulling Kaycee along with her. Rafe lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he watches them leave. The lingering tension between you and him hangs heavy in the air, leaving both of you at a loss for words.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Rafe asks, his voice laced with concern as he places his large hand on your thigh. But you quickly remove it, unable to bear his touch.

You can feel the hurt in his expression as he recoils slightly, his hand dropping to his side. The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Despite his attempt to reach out, you remain distant, the sense of betrayal and disappointment still raw within you.

“Do you know Sofia?” you finally speak up, breaking the tense silence. “Who? Oh— yeah. Sof. What about her?” Rafe responds, his confusion evident. You let out a scoff at the nickname, unable to hide your annoyance. “How come she doesn’t know you have a girlfriend?” you demand, your frustration bubbling over.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow at your word, shrugging, “How would I fuckin’ know—““Oh, I don’t know, Rafe, maybe because you’re the one that made her believe that,” you interject sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to feign innocence. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the tension between you escalating with each passing moment.

“Don’t give me that fucking attitude,” Rafe snaps angrily, his frustration evident. “You’re so full of shit, Rafe. You purposely left out the fact that you had a girlfriend so you could get into her pants!” you retort, your voice rising ever so slightly with indignation. He hushes you, casting a quick glance around the room before grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the table.

Sofia’s wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed as she looks at the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, her curiosity evident as Rafe leads you outside.

“Let go of me,” you demand, pushing Rafe’s hands away from you as you stand your ground, creating distance between the two of you. The intensity of your emotions swirls within you, a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal driving your actions.

“Look, I dunno what the fuck she said to you, but it’s not what it seems.” Your lips part in shock at his words. “Then go ahead, Rafe! Tell me!” you demand, throwing your arms up in exasperation. One of his hands pinches the bridge of his nose while the other rests on his hip, a sign of his growing frustration.

“Okay, okay, what—what’d she tell you?” His tone begins to calm down slightly. “She said you kept her company and never mentioned having a girlfriend—” Rafe cuts in sharply, “—she never asked—” “Shut the fuck up while I’m talking!” you retort, your voice laced with irritation at his interruption.

Your grip tightens on your handbag, your knuckles turning white as Rafe throws his head back in frustration, his eyes closing briefly as if trying to collect his thoughts. “She was new on the island and had no one. I was only talking about the places that she could visit around the island- that’s it- I swear.”

“What?” you snap, your eyes locking with Rafe’s as he stares at you intensely. “My phone was literally right under her nose, Y/N. She would’ve seen my lock screen of you,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration is evident, but so is yours, each of you standing firm in your stance.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I thought I made it quite clear that I had a missus when I literally picked up your call in front of her on Saturday night.” Your eyes soften at his words. You remember the call vividly: the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations in the background when he mentioned he was at the country club.

You can still hear his voice, calm and steady, as he reassured you of his whereabouts. The memory tugs at your heart, causing a flicker of doubt about your initial assumptions. You begin to question whether you might have misunderstood the situation, your anger wavering as you process his explanation.

You let out a shaky breath, crossing your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just—the way Sofia made it out to be, you never mentioned me,” you quietly admit, your eyes fixed on your Hermès sandals. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken tension, until suddenly you feel his arms enveloping you in a hug.

His embrace is warm and reassuring, melting away some of the lingering doubt and frustration. It’s a silent acknowledgment of your feelings, a wordless apology for any misunderstanding. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into his embrace.

“Babe, ‘s fine, should’ve known she was a jealous little thing,” Rafe murmurs, his lips brushing against the crown of your head as he sighs. With the side of your face pressed against Rafe’s firm chest, your senses are filled with nothing but him. His heartbeat reverberates against your cheek, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the present moment.

NEXT PART

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lila-lou · 3 months ago

Text

✨Taking her in - Pt. 19✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Angst, HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Language

Word Count: 7695

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

When he reached the kitchen, he saw you standing by the sink, your back to him. The hum of the faucet filled the room, but it was the soft sound of your quiet humming that drew him closer. You seemed lost in your own world.

Dean’s chest tightened at the sight of you. You were so at ease, so comfortable, even in his chaotic world. And while he knew he shouldn’t—knew he needed to calm down and keep his thoughts in check—he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer.

You didn’t hear him at first, too focused on the task in front of you, until you felt his presence behind you. The warmth of his body was unmistakable, and you turned your head slightly, catching the faint scent of leather and musk that always clung to him.

“Dean”, you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you glanced back. “You need something?”.

He shook his head, his good hand coming to rest lightly on the counter beside you for balance. His broken arm stayed close to his chest, but even with one hand, he managed to close the space between you, his presence wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Just couldn’t sit still”, he muttered, his voice low, rough. “Thought I’d come check on you”.

Your smile widened slightly as you turned back to the sink. “I’m fine”, you replied, though your voice softened at his concern. “Just dealing with the usual… you know”.

Dean let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned closer, his chest brushing lightly against your back. The heat of him made you pause, your hands stilling as you opened the cap of the hot water bottle.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly in your ear, “you’re humming that little tune you do when you’re thinking too hard”.

Your cheeks warmed as you realized he’d caught you, and you bit your lip, glancing back at him. “I didn’t even notice”, you admitted, your voice quieter now.

Dean smirked, his green eyes flicking down to yours. “Yeah, well, I notice”, he said, his tone softer now, filled with something unspoken.

You turned your head slightly, catching sight of Dean in your peripheral vision. His presence was steady, grounding, as he stood close behind you, his broken arm cradled protectively against his chest. His green eyes met yours when you turned fully, and the intensity there made your heart skip a beat.

“Dean”, you said softly, your voice curious but warm. “What are you doing?”.

Dean’s gaze flicked down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and for a moment, he hesitated. His jaw tightened slightly, as though he was debating something with himself, before he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “Just… thinking about how much I wanna kiss those lips of yours”.

Your breath caught at his words, the air in the room seeming to grow heavier. His vulnerability, the rawness in his tone, made your heart race as you stared up at him, momentarily speechless.

“Dean”, you murmured, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks as the corners of your lips curved into a soft smile. “You can just… do it, you know”.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes softened with something deeper. “Yeah?”, he asked, stepping just a little closer, his good hand brushing against your waist.

You nodded shyly, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as you bit your lip, anticipation fluttering in your chest. Dean’s smirk softened into something more tender as he stepped closer, his good hand resting firmly on your waist. He leaned down slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost hesitant kiss that sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss deepened as Dean tilted his head, his lips parting slightly before his tongue brushed against yours, teasing, inviting. The sensation made your knees weaken, and you instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders for balance. Despite your effort, you couldn’t help but feel a little clumsy, your movements unsure and unpracticed when it came to the dance of tongues. But rather than deter him, your hesitance seemed to ignite something deeper in Dean.

A low groan escaped his throat, the sound reverberating through you as his grip on your waist tightened. His body pressed closer to yours, and you suddenly became very aware of the hard length of him pressing against your stomach. Your breath hitched, the realization sending a wave of heat through your entire body.

As Dean’s tongue teased yours, the intensity of the kiss grew, and you felt your body responding in ways you couldn’t control. A warmth spread through your core, pooling low in your belly as a soft ache built steadily. The realization of how wet you were becoming made your breath hitch, and you exhaled heavily into the kiss, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to keep up with the sensations flooding through you.

Dean noticed—of course he did. His groan deepened, vibrating against your lips as his good hand tightened on your waist. Every movement felt deliberate, every stroke of his tongue and press of his hips igniting a fire within you. You clung to him, instinctively letting him lead, just as you always did. With Dean, you trusted him completely, and the way he guided you in every moment left no room for doubt or fear.

He broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His green eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with a heat that made your pulse race.

Dean’s lips curved into that boyish grin that always had a way of disarming you, making your heart race and your knees weak. His forehead still pressed against yours, his green eyes danced with mischief as he murmured, “You sure you don’t wanna…? Heard it helps with those cramps”.

You blinked, your face flushing even deeper at his bold suggestion. “Dean”, you mumbled, but your voice wavered, unsure whether you were protesting or simply trying to process what he’d just said.

“I’m serious”, he added, his voice dropping lower, the grin never leaving his lips. “And c’mon, sweetheart—blood? You think I care? Hell, I drown in blood every weekend”. His tone was teasing but edged with sincerity, and the way his hand squeezed your waist made it impossible to look away.

Your mind spun, your cheeks burning as you tried to come up with a response.

Dean’s grin didn’t falter as his hand gently stroked your waist, his green eyes locked onto yours with a mix of playfulness and intensity. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and rough, “C’mon, sweetheart. What’s there to think about? You’re already squirming against me, and you know you’ll feel better after”.

Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, unable to look at him directly. “I don’t know, Dean”, you whispered shyly, your voice barely audible. The vulnerability in your tone made your blush deepen, and you pressed your palms lightly against his chest, unsure if you were holding him closer or trying to push him away.

Dean’s good hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. His touch was firm but careful, the warmth of his hand sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?”, he murmured, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Make you feel so damn good you’ll forget you ever doubted it”.

The way he said it, so full of confidence and heat, made your heart race. He tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you?”, he continued, his voice dipping lower, each word deliberate and teasing. “Let me take care of that, yeah? You’ll feel better—promise”.

His words sent a rush of heat through you, and you clenched your thighs instinctively, the ache between them growing harder to ignore. Dean’s smirk widened slightly as he noticed, his fingers brushing lightly over your lower back. His lips hovered near your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His voice dropped even lower, barely more than a rumble, as he murmured, “Sweetheart, you’re already making those little noises for me, squirming in my arms like this. You really think you’re gonna say no?”.

His good hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you tighter, while his thumb brushed teasingly along your side. “You know how good I can make you feel”, he whispered, his tone darkening just enough to make your cheeks burn hotter. “Just imagine it. Me, buried inside you, moving slow and deep, making you forget every little ache you’ve got”.

Your breath hitched, and you let out a small whimper, unable to suppress the way your body reacted to his words.

“Yeah, that’s it”, he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I bet you’re already so wet for me. Just thinking about how good it’ll feel”. He paused, his hand sliding slightly lower, his thumb brushing the waistband of your leggings.

You squirmed against him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself steady. His voice was intoxicating, each word making the ache between your legs more unbearable.

“C’mon, baby”, Dean murmured, his voice husky and full of heat. “Let me make you feel good". His tongue flicked against your earlobe, making you gasp softly. “Just say the word”.

His words and his touch were overwhelming, the heat in your body rising to a fever pitch as he continued.

Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His good hand gripped your waist firmly, his thumb brushing small, tantalizing circles over your skin. “Sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice strained and husky, “I’m so damn hard it hurts”.

The rawness in his tone made your breath hitch, your body instinctively pressing closer to his. He groaned again at the contact, his hips shifting slightly to emphasize the growing pressure against you. “I just wanna feel you”, he continued, his voice dropping lower, filled with unfiltered desire. “Feel myself sliding into you, nice and slow. Taking my time… making sure you feel every damn inch”.

Your cheeks burned as his words settled over you, a rush of heat coursing through your body. “I know what this does to you. I know how much you like it when I tell you what I want. And right now, all I want is you”.

You trembled in his arms, your hands clutching his shirt as if to steady yourself. Dean tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing down the side of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you squirm.

“Come on, baby". His lips brushed the sensitive spot just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll be so gentle, sweetheart. Just you and me, nice and slow”.

Your breath came in shallow gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as his words wrapped around you like a spell. He knew exactly what to say, exactly how to make you feel completely consumed by him.

“Okay”, you finally whispered, your voice barely audible as you clung to him, your body trembling with anticipation. The word slipped from your lips almost involuntarily, a soft admission of surrender that made Dean groan in response.

Dean hovered over you, his broad frame tense as he braced himself with his good arm, the muscles in his forearm flexing under the strain. His shirt clung to him, rumpled and slightly damp from the effort of maneuvering himself without aggravating his injuries. His green eyes burned with intensity as he looked down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily. The weight of the moment made the air between you thick, charged with anticipation.

He glanced down toward his sweatpants, then back at you, his lips curving into a crooked smirk. “You’re gonna have to help me out here, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. “Can’t do it one-handed”.

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and your heart raced as you nodded, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. The intimacy of the moment felt overwhelming, but the way Dean’s eyes softened as he watched you steadied your nerves. Slowly, you tugged the fabric down, careful not to move too quickly or jostle him.

Dean let out a low groan as you freed him, the sound sending a wave of heat through your body. His eyes, full of raw desire, watched your every move, his breath catching as your fingers, trembling slightly, wrapped around him. The intimacy of the gesture, your hesitant yet determined touch, stirred something deep within him.

You met his gaze, your own eyes wide with a mix of nerves and anticipation. With a gentle but firm grip, you guided him towards your entrance, your breath hitching as you felt the tip press against you.

Dean’s good hand remained braced above you, keeping his weight steady, but it was his other hand—the one with the broken arm—that surprised you. Carefully, tenderly, it moved to rest over yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you as his fingers brushed against yours. Despite his injury, the gesture was firm yet comforting, his broken arm moving just enough to help guide you.

“Easy, baby”, he murmured, his voice a soothing balm, low and rough with need but steady and calm. His green eyes locked onto yours, grounding you in his gaze. “Just like that”.

Dean’s broken arm stayed cradled protectively against his chest, but his fingers found their way to your hip, resting there lightly as if to steady you. Slowly, he began to ease himself inside you, his movements deliberate and measured.

You let out a soft whimper as the sensation overwhelmed you, the stretch coupled with the dull ache of your cramps making your body tense. Dean immediately noticed, his green eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and reassurance.

“Shh, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he paused, his thumb brushing soft, calming circles against your hip. “It’ll get better, I promise. Just give it a second”.

You nodded, biting your lip as you focused on his words, letting the warmth of his touch and the steady tone of his voice wash over you. Dean pressed his forehead gently against yours, his breath fanning over your face as he murmured again, “Breathe, baby. Just relax”.

Following his lead, you took a slow, shaky breath, letting the tension in your body ease just enough for him to push forward again, inch by inch. Dean’s lips brushed lightly against your temple. “That’s it”, he rasped, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart”.

Dean groaned low in his throat as he pressed deeper inside you. His fingers flexing against your skin as if to remind you that despite his injuries, he was still in control.

His forehead rested against yours, his green eyes dark with a mix of raw desire and something deeper, something possessive. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart”, he rasped.

You whimpered softly, the sound escaping your lips as your body tensed. The sharp ache of your cramps flared with the stretch, making your breath hitch. “I know, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the strain in his tone. “I can feel you tensing up. Just breathe for me, baby. I promise, it’ll get better”.

You whimpered again, your hands gripping his shoulders harder as your body trembled beneath him. Dean’s good hand moved slowly up your side, his thumb brushing tender circles against your skin in an effort to calm you. The contrast between his rough, calloused hand and his gentle touch sent a shiver through you, momentarily distracting you from the discomfort.

“You’re doing so good”, he rasped, his lips grazing your jawline as he pressed another inch deeper, his hips rolling with a deliberate slowness. “I know it’s intense, baby. But I’ll take care of you. Just trust me”.

The raw edge to his voice made your stomach flutter despite the pain, and you nodded shakily, your breath coming in short gasps as you tried to focus on the soothing rhythm of his movements. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he rocked into you again. “That’s it”, he murmured, his green eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so damn perfect".

The ache in your abdomen began to dull slightly, replaced by a spreading warmth that eased the tension in your body. Dean seemed to sense the change, his smirk returning as he moved a little deeper, his good hand gripping your hip firmly as he held you steady.

“See?”, he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as he spoke. “Told you it’d feel better”.

After a few thrusts, Dean´s muscles trembling slightly as he fought to keep himself steady. The strain was evident in the tightness of his jaw and the beads of sweat gathering at his temple. His broken arm remained cradled protectively against his chest, but the effort of holding himself up with only his good arm—and the pull on his injured chest—was taking its toll. Yet, even through the strain, his focus remained entirely on you.

You moaned softly, your body adjusting to him as the sharpness of your cramps began to dull more and more, replaced by a slow, building pleasure. Your hands moved instinctively to his shoulders, your fingers brushing over the tense muscles as if trying to steady him in return.

“Dean”, you whispered, your voice shaky as you looked up at him. “You don’t have to—”.

“Shh”, he interrupted, his voice rough but firm as his lips brushed over your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry about me”.

But you couldn’t help it. The way his arm trembled slightly, the way his chest heaved with the effort—it was clear this wasn’t easy for him. And yet, he refused to stop, refused to let his injuries hold him back.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, he muttered, his voice strained but full of heat. “You feel so good. So damn tight. Worth every second of this”.

You whimpered softly at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders more firmly as your body arched into his. The pressure inside you built with each slow thrust, the mix of pleasure and the sight of Dean’s determination making your heart race.

“You’re… killing me here”, he murmured, his lips brushing against yours before moving to your neck, where he pressed a series of lazy, open-mouthed kisses. “But damn, I don’t wanna stop”.

The sight of him—his raw, unrelenting strength, his refusal to let his injuries dictate the moment—made your chest tighten with emotion. You reached up, your hands sliding to his jaw as you guided his face back to yours, capturing his lips in a soft, desperate kiss.

And with that, he shifted his hips again, drawing another quiet moan from your lips as he pushed deeper. Every movement was slow and deliberate, as much for his sake as yours, but the intensity of it was enough to make your entire body tremble.

The tension in the room reached its peak as Dean’s deliberate movements pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His low groans, the sound of his uneven breathing, and the overwhelming intimacy of the moment were enough to send you spiraling. Your body tensed beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the wave of pleasure finally crested.

“Dean”, you whimpered, your voice breaking as the release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. The sensation was all-consuming, your muscles clenching tightly around him as your body arched into his.

Dean groaned deeply at the sensation, his hips faltering as he thrust into you one last time, the intensity of your release pushing him over the edge. His breath hitched, and with a low, guttural moan, he followed you into bliss. His body trembled with the effort, the strain evident as he emptied himself inside you, his head falling to rest against your shoulder.

Completely spent, Dean collapsed gently onto you. His good arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as his breathing came in short, ragged gasps. His broken arm remained cradled protectively between your bodies, though you could feel the faint tremor in his muscles from the effort he’d exerted.

For a few moments, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths. Dean’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he tried to catch his breath.

“You okay?”, he rasped, his voice low and rough as he shifted slightly, mindful of his injuries. Despite the strain, there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced up at you, his green eyes soft and full of affection.

You nodded, your fingers brushing gently through his sweat-dampened hair as you tried to steady your own breathing. “I’m… pretty fine”, you whispered, your voice trembling but sincere. “What about you? Are you okay?”.

Dean chuckled softly, though the sound was tinged with fatigue. “Better than okay”, he muttered, his lips pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone. “Damn near perfect”.

After a few long, quiet moments, Dean’s breathing began to steady, his body finally relaxing against yours. With a soft grunt, he shifted slightly, planting a kiss on your shoulder before lifting his head to meet your gaze. The faint smirk tugging at his lips was matched by the warmth in his green eyes, though the exhaustion lingering there was unmistakable.

“Alright, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice still rough as he slowly eased himself up. “Time to move before we’re stuck here all night”.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as he gently pulled out of you, careful not to rush or cause any discomfort. The sensation made you wince slightly, and your instinct was to glance down, curious about the inevitable mess you’d made. But before you could, Dean’s hand reached out, his fingers lightly brushing your chin to tilt your face back up to meet his gaze.

“Nuh-uh”, he said softly, his smirk softening into a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about that. Let’s take a shower instead”.

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the tenderness in his tone. “Dean, I should—”.

“Trust me”, he interrupted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, silencing your protest. “You’ve had enough to worry about the last few weeks. Let me take care of you”.

The conviction in his voice left no room for argument, and you nodded, your heart fluttering at the thoughtfulness behind his words. He grinned faintly at your agreement, his good arm wrapping around your waist as he carefully helped you sit up. Despite his obvious fatigue, Dean made sure to support you, his movements slow and deliberate as he guided you toward the edge of the bed.

“C’mon, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and gentle as he helped you to your feet. “Let’s get cleaned up”.

About a week later, the bunker had settled back into its usual quiet rhythm, though the tension of Dean’s slow recovery still lingered in the air. Dean was sitting in the library, his good arm resting lazily on the back of his chair while Sam leaned over him, carefully inspecting the stitches along his chest. The wound, though healing, was still an angry red, and Sam’s brow furrowed in concentration as he examined it.

Dean, as usual, looked impatient, his jaw set as he sat shirtless, his muscles flexing slightly with every subtle movement. His broken arm was still secured in a sling, though it didn’t stop him from shifting uncomfortably under Sam’s scrutiny.

“Hold still”, Sam muttered, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “These stitches look good, but you keep moving around too much, and you’re going to rip them open again”.

Dean rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “I’m fine, Sammy. You act like I’m on death’s door”.

Sam straightened, giving him a pointed look. “Because you were, Dean. You can’t keep acting like this is nothing”.

Dean’s smirk faltered slightly, but before Sam could press the point, your voice floated in from the doorway.

“Listen to him, Dean”, you said, stepping into the library with a cup of coffee in hand. Your gaze swept over the scene, and your heart did a little flip at the sight of Dean sitting there, topless and stubborn as ever. “He’s right, you know”.

Dean’s eyes flicked to you, and despite the irritation at being lectured, the corners of his mouth quirked into a softer, more genuine smile. “I’ve got two nurses now, huh?”, he teased, his voice low and warm.

“More like two babysitters”, you shot back, setting the coffee on the table and crossing your arms as you leaned against a chair. “You’re not exactly an easy patient”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he packed up the first-aid kit. “She’s not wrong”, he said, giving Dean a final once-over before stepping back. “Just keep the sling on and try not to do anything stupid”.

Dean snorted, leaning back in his chair as Sam walked off. “That’s asking a lot, don’t you think?”, he called after him, his grin widening before turning his attention back to you. His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he gestured to his chest. “So, how do the stitches look? Think they add to my charm?”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Only you would think scars make you more charming”.

Dean leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with that familiar intensity. “You like ’em, though”, he said softly, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You huffed, trying to keep your composure. “What I like”, you said, stepping closer, “is seeing you actually healing. So maybe listen to Sam for once and don’t rip them open”.

Dean’s smirk softened into something warmer as he reached out with his good hand, his fingers brushing against yours. “Yeah, yeah”, he murmured, his voice teasing but affectionate. “I’ll behave… for now”.

It had taken weeks, but Dean was nearly back to his old self—stubborn, self-reliant, and unwilling to show any sign of weakness. On the outside, he seemed fine, even smug about how well he’d healed, but something had shifted. He wasn’t the same with you anymore, and it hurt.

The past few nights had been the hardest. Dean, who had once insisted on having you by his side every night, now seemed to avoid asking you to join him. He’d retreat to his room alone, leaving you to wonder what you’d done wrong. He hadn’t touched you, hadn’t even kissed you, and the absence of his warmth was like a hole in your chest that kept growing wider.

You’d tried to brush it off, telling yourself he was just readjusting, that he’d come around. But as the days dragged on, his distance felt more deliberate, and your patience was wearing thin.

This morning, you found him in the kitchen. The bunker was quiet, Sam still in bed and the world still dark outside. Dean stood at the counter, his back to you, nursing a mug of coffee. His broad shoulders were hunched slightly, his posture tense despite the casual scene. He didn’t turn when you entered, but you knew he’d heard you—Dean always noticed everything.

“Morning”, you said softly, hesitant as you moved closer. Your voice carried the weight of everything you hadn’t said in the past few days.

Dean glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable, before turning back to his coffee. “Morning”, he muttered, his voice gruff and distant.

You frowned, the knot in your stomach tightening. “You’re up early”.

“Couldn’t sleep”, he replied, taking a sip from his mug. His tone was clipped, and he didn’t elaborate.

You hesitated for a moment, your nerves tangling in your chest as you debated what to do. Dean was pulling away, for whatever fucking reasons and you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed to try—needed to bridge the gap between you. Taking a shaky breath, you bit your lip and stepped closer, your fingers brushing softly against his biceps. His warmth seeped into your skin as you leaned in, standing on your tiptoes to bring yourself closer.

“Maybe that’s because I’m not in your bed”, you murmured softly, trying to inject a bit of lightness into your voice, though the vulnerability behind your words was impossible to miss.

Dean barely flinched at first, his grip tightening slightly on his coffee mug. His jaw ticked, his eyes flicking down to where your hand rested against his arm, but he didn’t pull away. The tension in his body was palpable, and while he didn’t respond, the subtle shift in his posture—his muscles tightening beneath your touch, the faint hitch in his breath—told you he’d felt it. Felt you.

What he didn’t want you to know was that the second you pressed yourself so close, the heat of your body against his, the softness of your voice, it hit him like a truck. Desire flared through him, unbidden and overwhelming. He could feel himself hardening instantly, his body betraying every effort to keep himself in check. But he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay still, to keep the space between you—even though every part of him screamed to close it.

“Don’t”, he said finally, his voice rough, though it lacked the edge it might have carried before.

You leaned back, crossing your arms, your gaze steady and determined despite the nervous energy thrumming through you. “Don’t what?”, you asked, your voice soft but firm. “What’s going on, Dean? You’ve been pulling away for days, and I don’t understand why”.

His green eyes flicked to yours for a moment before darting away, his shoulders tense and his posture rigid. He didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to admit what was really going on. The truth sat heavy in his chest, threatening to spill over, but Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who talked about his feelings—not easily, anyway.

You didn’t know it, but Dean was ashamed. He hated how the last few weeks had unfolded, how vulnerable and weak he’d been in front of you. Dean loved being the strong one, the one who protected you, guided you, and showed you everything. He loved knowing he was your first for so many things—your first kiss, your first love, your first everything. It gave him a sense of purpose, a role he understood and embraced.

But now? Now, you’d seen him at his lowest. You’d seen him unable to stand on his own, struggling with pain, relying on you for things he should’ve been able to do himself. Instead of being the unshakable force in your life, he’d become someone you had to care for, someone you had to worry about. And that wasn’t what you deserved—not in his eyes.

“Dean”, you pressed, your tone tinged with frustration as you stepped closer again. “Talk to me. Please. You’re shutting me out, and I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong".

He let out a low, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”, he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. “You shouldn’t have to fix anything. Not for me”.

You frowned, your heart twisting at the bitterness in his tone. “What are you talking about?”.

Dean finally met your gaze, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your breath catch. “You’ve seen too much”, he admitted quietly, his voice raw. “I’m supposed to be the strong one. The guy who keeps you safe, who takes care of you. Not some… burden. Not someone you have to look after like a damn kid”.

The confession hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t expected that. “Dean, you’re not a burden”, you said firmly, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted to help you. I wanted to take care of you. That’s what people do when they love each other”.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You shouldn’t have to”, he murmured. “You’re too young for this—for me. You should be out there, living your life, being carefree. Not stuck here, babysitting me”.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling to the surface as you crossed your arms tighter over your chest. “Dean”, you said, your voice laced with exasperation, “are we seriously doing this again? I thought we talked through all of that already”.

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, well, maybe we didn’t talk enough”, he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

You took a step closer, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Dean, I don’t care about the age difference. I don’t care about any of the crap you keep throwing up as reasons why I shouldn’t be with you. None of it matters to me”.

“It should”, he snapped, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself and softened. “It should matter. You deserve better than this—better than me. I’m broken, and you’re… you’re young, and bright, and you shouldn’t be tied down to someone who—”.

“Stop”, you interrupted sharply, your voice steady even though your chest was tight. “Do you really think you get to decide what I deserve? What I want?”.

Dean faltered, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. You took another step forward, closing the distance between you until you were standing toe-to-toe. “Because if you do”, you continued, your voice trembling slightly with emotion, “then you’re not the man I thought you were”.

That seemed to hit him like a slap. His eyes widened slightly, and he looked at you as though you’d just punched him in the gut. “That’s not—”, he started, his voice breaking. “That’s not what I’m saying”.

“Then what are you saying, Dean?”, you challenged, your tone softening but still firm. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re trying to push me away for reasons that don’t make sense”.

Dean’s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darting away as if he could find the words he needed somewhere in the empty air. You could see the war in his mind, the way his shoulders tensed and his chest rose and fell with restrained emotion. He was holding back, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it this time.

“Dean”, you pressed, your voice firm but trembling with the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “Talk to me. Please".

He hesitated for a long moment, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fought to keep his emotions in check. But the dam finally broke, and when he spoke, his voice was heavy with self-loathing. “I hate that you saw me like that”, he admitted, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I hate that you had to take care of me, that you saw me weak, useless. I hate that I needed you like that”.

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. “Dean—”.

“No”.

Dean’s voice cracked as he cut you off, his emotions threatening to spill over despite his best efforts to keep them buried. He raked a hand through his short hair, his frustration evident in the sharp exhale that escaped his lips. “You don’t get it”, he said, his voice rising slightly before it dropped again, quieter, darker. “You weren’t supposed to see me like that. Not you”.

You stayed silent, giving him the space to say what he needed, even though your heart ached at the anger he was directing inward. He took a shaky breath, his green eyes blazing with a mix of shame and vulnerability that he hated showing, especially to you.

“Do you have any idea how it felt?”, he continued, his words clipped, raw. “Lying there, useless, while you ran around taking care of me like… like I’m some damn invalid? I’m supposed to be the one looking after you. Protecting you. Hell, I’m twice your age, and all I’ve been doing is dragging you down, making you worry about me instead of letting you live your life”.

His words hit you like a freight train, and your chest tightened at the weight of his pain. “Dean, that’s not—”.

“I’m supposed to be a man”, he bit out, his tone tinged with bitterness. “Not someone you have to babysit. Not someone who can’t even pull his own damn weight. And every time I looked at you these past few weeks, all I could see was how much I’ve failed you. I’m not invincible anymore, and the last thing I want is for you to see that”.

You stepped closer, but he flinched slightly, his defenses still firmly in place. His gaze flicked to you briefly before he looked away again, ashamed to let you see just how deep this wound went. It wasn’t just his pride—it was his entire sense of self. Dean had spent his life building himself into this protector, this unshakable force of nature, and the idea of you seeing him weak, human, was unbearable.

You stepped closer, your heart aching at the raw pain in Dean’s words. The tension between you was thick, his vulnerability hanging in the air like a fragile thread threatening to snap. You couldn’t let him spiral further into his own self-loathing. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to cup his jaw, to pull his gaze back to yours.

But before you could make contact, Dean’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with more force than he probably intended. The grip was firm, almost desperate, and you froze at the sudden contact. His eyes snapped to yours, wide and filled with something that looked like regret, as if he immediately realized what he’d done.

“Don’t”, he said hoarsely, his voice low and rough, his grip loosening slightly but not letting go entirely. “Don’t look at me like that. Like you don’t care about what you saw. Like it doesn’t matter”.

You stared at him, your pulse quickening as his words sank in. “Dean”, you whispered, your voice trembling, “it doesn’t matter. It never did”.

His jaw clenched, his grip finally releasing your wrist as he stepped back, running a hand over his face. “You don’t get it”, he muttered, his frustration spilling over. “It should matter. I’ve spent my whole life being the guy who fixes things, who protects people. And now, what the hell am I? A liability? Someone you have to take care of?”.

His words cut deep, but not in the way he intended. You took a steadying breath, refusing to let him push you away. “You’re still that guy, Dean”, you said firmly, stepping closer again despite his retreat. “You’re still the one who protects me, who keeps me safe. But even you’re allowed to need help sometimes. That doesn’t make you less of a man”.

He let out a bitter laugh, his shoulders sagging as he turned his head away, unable to meet your gaze. “It sure as hell feels like it”.

You stood there, your heart pounding as the weight of Dean’s self-loathing filled the room. His words hung in the air, sharp and raw, and you knew this wasn’t just about his injuries or the past few weeks—it was about how he saw himself. Dean had built his entire identity around being the protector, the strong one, and now he felt like he’d lost that. The man you loved was crumbling under the pressure of his own insecurities, and you couldn’t let him drown in it.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to figure out what to say, how to reach him. You knew him too well, knew that this wasn’t something a simple “you’re enough” would fix. He needed something more, something that would remind him he was still the same man—the man you loved, the man who made your knees weak and your heart race.

It took every ounce of courage you had to finally say the words that had been swirling in your mind. You stepped closer, your voice trembling as you whispered, “Fuck me”.

Dean froze, his eyes snapping to yours in shock. For a moment, it was like time stood still. His green eyes widened, his jaw tightening as your words sank in. “What?”, he rasped, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t back down. “I said… fuck me”, you repeated, your voice steadier this time.

Dean stood frozen for a beat, your words hitting him like a freight train. His green eyes darkened, the vulnerability and doubt in them giving way to something deeper, something primal. His jaw worked as he tried to process the sudden shift in the air, but it was clear your words had struck a nerve—the kind that didn’t just tug at his heart but at every fiber of his being.

You took a shaky step closer, your hand brushing against his chest as you looked up at him, your cheeks burning but your voice steady. “Show me, Dean”, you murmured, your tone soft but laced with a quiet confidence. “Show me how much of a man you are. Because I’m sure no one—no one—can give me what you do”.

Dean’s breathing hitched, his nostrils flaring as the weight of your words sank in. You pressed your hand more firmly against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“No one else can make my knees shake the way you do”, you continued, your voice dipping lower as you held his gaze. “No one else can kiss me, touch me, make me moan like you do. No one else can make me come so hard I forget my own name”.

The shift in Dean’s expression was immediate, the self-loathing that had clouded his features melting away as the heat of your words took over. His jaw tightened, and his good hand shot out, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The intensity of his touch made your breath hitch, and you could feel him—rock hard against you, the blood from his worrying head clearly having taken a detour south.

Dean’s grip on your waist tightened, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you. His green eyes burned with an intensity that made your knees weak, but there was something softer beneath the hunger—a flicker of hesitation, of restraint that you recognized all too well.

“Please”, you murmured, your voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and anticipation. You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, the innocence in your expression juxtaposed with the boldness of your words. “Show me how good it can feel, Dean. When you’re not holding back”.

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as his good hand slid from your waist to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Sweetheart”, he rasped, his voice rough, strained. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do”, you whispered, leaning into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. “I know you’ve been holding back, Dean. Ever since… since the first time. But I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not scared, and I trust you”.

Dean groaned low in his throat, his thumb freezing against your cheek as he stared at you, his resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. “You have no idea what you do to me”, he muttered, his voice darkening with the primal edge you’d only seen glimpses of before. “No idea how many nights I’ve laid awake, thinking about giving you everything, about making you scream my name until you can’t even think straight”.

You whimpered softly at his confession, your body trembling against his as the heat between you grew unbearable. “You sure you can handle it?”.

“Yes”, you whispered, barely able to get the word out as the intensity of his presence overwhelmed you. “Please, Dean”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 20

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