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#he’s pretty sure he knows what he’s feeling but he’s never felt it before so he doesn’t KNOW)
dark-and-kawaii · 1 day
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Gojo Satoru - Nanami Kento - Sukuna Ryomen - Toji Fushiguro
⋆˙⟡♡ They fuck you like they own you.
⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Creampies | Pet Names | Choking |Nanami’s Tie Wrapped Around Your Neck | Toji’s Gun | Sukuna Is Soft Deep Down
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♡ 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 ♡
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“You’re making such a mess, princess.”
You couldn't help the whine that left you, the ache between your thighs throbbing.
Satoru chuckled softly, “You're such a brat when you don't get your way. Maybe I should take off your blindfold and let you watch, let you see the mess you've made.”
His hands were on your hips, keeping them firmly in place against his knee. Satoru was always so cruel to you, slowly tormenting you until you’re a crying mess on his lap.
“A~Ah ♡~ Sator-“ before you could finish his name the sorcerer grabbed your tongue between his fingers, pulling it out.
“Now you know better than that, princess. You know what I like.” He cooed, releasing his grip on your tongue watching you swallow, “This collar-“ he gave the pink leather collar around your throat a tug, eliciting a gasp from you, “- is so pretty on you, but this is my favorite part, the tag with my name on it, it means something doesn’t it?” He ground his knee into your sloppy pussy, watching the way your pussy juices stain his pants, “Come on now, surely you’re smarter than that. It means you belong to me. So, tell me what you should say, princess, and I might be nice and give you my cock.”
You knew he wasn't lying, his tone always told the truth. If you didn't say it now you would be in even more trouble later.
“M-Master ♡~ “
He smirked, his free hand rubbing the tip of your clit with the pad of his thumb, making you arch your back.
“Master ♡~, pl~eeeease~ let this princess ride her Master's cock ♡~”
You knew the man was smiling at you, could feel it, and it made your heart pound, his hands releasing your hips and moving to unbuckle his pants.
“Since you begged so prettily and remembered what to say, I suppose I should let my little princess get her reward!”
Your hands went down, grasping his veiny cock and guiding the thick head of his cock into your needy pussy. Your eyes practically had hearts in them as you sunk onto his cock. He felt so good inside you, the way he filled your walls perfectly, stretching you wide enough to make your pussy gush.
“Look at how lewd your pussy looks. Stretching to accommodate my cock.”
Satoru didn’t even wait for you to adjust to him before he grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down his cock, your wet pussy slapping down on him each time. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum plenty.”
You couldn’t do anything but moan, the tip of his cock massaging your g-spot as he used you, his grip on your hips tight, making sure there would be bruises tomorrow.
“Ah-amazing~~♡♡ hah ♡!!” you cried, your cunt squeezing around him, your eyes rolling back as your tongue lolled out.
It wasn’t long until Satoru was thrusting up into with all his strength, his cock abusing your gummy walls, his cock pulsating, ready to burst.
“I'm gonna cum inside you, princess. Gonna stuff you full and leave you aching.”
You moaned, the thought of him cumming inside, his thick gooey semen filling your belly made your sweet cunny flutter, your walls clamping down on his thick cock.
“Ooh? You like that idea hmm? Don't worry, I'm gonna make sure you never forget whose pussy this is. I’ll stuff you so full of cum it leaks out of you for days. Maybe even get one of those pretty glass dildos, stuff it in your pretty pussy to keep all that cum in you.”
Your mind was slowly going blank, your moans coming out higher in pitch. You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust, your body jolting and bouncing as he pounded into you, “Sho’goood~♡ M~master~ Mah puushy gettin pounded s’feels good~ ♡♡”
Satoru groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic. His mouth hung open, his face flushed as he gazed up at you, he loved the way you looked riding his cock, how needy you were, how needy you always were for him, and him alone.
"Gonna cum, gonna stuff my pretty princess full, paint her insides white.”
You nodded, a string of drool running down your chin as you felt him thrust up into you one last time, his cock spurting thick ropes of his seed deep into your womb, filling you to the brim. It was enough to send you over the edge, your pussy milking his cock dry, “CUMMMMING~ I’M CUMMMING~~♡♡!!!”
Your body went slack, leaning forward against his chest, breathing heavily. Satoru gently lifted the blindfold from your eyes, his eyes meeting yours, a small smile playing at his lips. Those beautiful icy blue eyes, you always found yourself lost in them every time.
“There's my girl.” Leaning forward, he pressed a tender loving kiss to your forehead, his softening cock slipping out of you with a wet pop, “Now then, lets get cleaned up and have a nap! It's been a long day and I'm tired!" He pondered for a moment, “Hmm or maybe it’s time for something sweet?” He smirked and nuzzled into your neck.
You couldn't help the giggle, “Nap and then sweets, how about that?”
Satoru grinned, scooping you up into his arms, "That sounds perfect."
This is the Satoru you've come to love.
♡ 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 ♡
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Nanami wrapped his tie around your delicate neck, constricting your breathing as he slid his cock inside you. His thrusts were deep and slow, pulling on the fabric around your neck every time he bottomed out. The feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly while choking the air from your lungs had your body in an absolute frenzy.
“You’re so beautiful with my tie wrapped around that pretty little neck of yours.” His voice was raspy as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the nape of your neck, pulling harder on the tie as his lips met your skin.
The rough fabric of his suit scraped against your exposed flesh, causing an indescribable sensation all over your body. Your mind was in a haze as you were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen, your brain unable to concentrate on any single thing. He had you right where he wanted you.
“F’Kento~ ♡ F-Feels l-like m’m melt’ting~~♡♡” Your fingertips desperately clawed at his desk, your breasts smooshedup against the cold wood, chafed from the friction caused by his fast and hard thrusts, “M-y nip-ples~♡” Drool was trickling down your chin, your tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to form a sentence, “My- nipples, ru-bing~A-ahh ♡ A-h, FUCK~! ♡ Mmm... N-not s-so ha-aard~~♡ Pleaseee, Keennn~ ♡♡ I-I ca-“
You felt his hand grasp the back of your neck and roughly shove your head down against his desk, your cheek pressing into the surface, your drool seeping onto his paperwork, “You were saying something, dear? You want me to go harder? Is this what you were asking for?"
Nanami was merciless, pounding into your cunt like his life depended on it, “Your pussy is wrapped around me so nicely, my love, I can hardly move. I love how you suck me in every time I pull out. It feels so good.”
The veins in his hands and forearms were popping out with each thrust, beads of sweat dripped down his neck, dampening the collar of his dress shirt. His suit jacket had been tossed on the floor hours ago.
He grabbed your chin and craned your head to face him, a trail of saliva connected your bottom lip to the papers underneath. The sight before him almost made him blow his load right then and there, you were so beautiful.
Nanami crashed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you, his tongue sliding past your lips. You were so close. His cock was throbbing inside you, his pace becoming uneven as he chased his orgasm.
“Fnn~ ♡ Mn’~♡”
With one last tug on the tie around your neck, you came hard, clenching tightly around Nanami's cock.
His hips stuttered as his hot cum spilled inside of you simultaneously, a low grunt escaping his lips.
He let go of his grip on the tie, the fabric loosening around your neck. His hand slid up your throat and his fingers gently caressed your face.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?.”
You smiled lovingly at him and snuggled into his warm hand, planting a small kiss on his palm, “You didn’t, my love. You could never.”
Your chest was still heaving as you caught your breath, your head spinning from your post orgasm high.
Nanami's eyes wandered down to his cock, which was still inside of you, his cum dripping out from around the base. He carefully pulled out, admiring the view as his seed leaked from your pussy.
His lips were parted slightly, a blush creeping up his neck, his gaze fixated on your swollen lips.
He reached over to his desk drawer and pulled out a handkerchief, kneeling down behind you to clean you up, wiping up the mess between your legs.
You were absolutely spent. The events of the night had taken a toll on your body.
“Kento, could you… Could you carry me to the bath…? I- I don't think I can walk.” Your legs shook as you spoke.
He chuckled softly, "Of course, darling.”
♡ 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 ♡
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He drags the cold gun muzzle across your exposed skin. You try to bite back a whimper as Toji traces your perky clit with the tip of his gun... Trailing it down between your legs until the muzzle probes your cunt.
Toji can only smirk at how wet you’ve become, your juices coating the steel piece before pressing it into your tight little cunt. Instinctively your legs part while he watches in awe as the metal shaft passes between your lips and into your depths.
“Such a good whore.” - “always so compliant for me.” He takes a deep breath, “always so obscene.”
He pulls the gun out slowly before slowly pushing it back into your depths. Making sure to watch you intently while the gun is completely sheathed inside your dripping hole. He continues this slow torture on you until your a sobbing and trembling mess.
“Hah~ ♡ P-Pwease~ Ah~”
You can hardly believe what he’s doing to you, eyes wide your breaths coming out in gasps thanks to the cold steel pushing inside you... Your hands came up to push on his arms, but they slowly descended back to your chest as soon as you heard him growl in disapproval.
Toji told you to stop acting like a brat, that if you continued to act up he’d punish you severely. Still though, you didn’t expect him to thrust his gun inside your sacred hole in the middle of a dark parking lot… And there was nothing you could do about it... You knew better than to disobey the man… Your body shivering at the thought…
He can hardly keep the smirk off his face while his cock twitches at the sight of you squirming from him fucking you with his gun. He was right, he thought to himself, you were such a slut for him... Always listening to his every command, you were so easy to break and train.
Toji continues to plunge his gun into your cunt, your legs spread wide, giving him an unobstructed view of the filthy show you put on for him. The way your slick juices coat his weapon, the lewd squelching sounds your pussy makes… It only fuels the man's ego and libido further.
He wasn’t gentle either, never was when it came to anything. He fucked you with the loaded gun the way he would fuck your slutty little pussy with his cock. In and out, rough and hard, that’s the way he liked it...
Toji pushed harder everytime he drove his gun back into you. You don't even seem to register that he could easily shoot you in the cunt... Instead of fearing for your life, you moan out tangling your fingers with his midnight hair, begging him to fuck you with it until you cum... “Ah~ ♡ N-No way~ I- Hah~ ♡ Havin sex with a gun~~~ ♡ M’make me cuum~ !”
His eyes flash up at you with an emotion you couldn’t decipher, “Filthy sow,” but it makes your breath hitch...There was a moment where you wondered if he would actually hurt you, but those thoughts were quickly banished from your mind as soon as you felt his mouth crash against yours.
You can only moan into his mouth as his tongue snakes past your lips to explore the warm caverns of yours... No, he’d never harm you. Why would he? You were his obedient little pet, a slave to his every word.
♡ 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ♡
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You were his little lamb, his precious, his beloved. He was the great one, the lord of your life, the master of your fate. He had been for as long as you could remember…
“Quit your squirming. You should be thanking me for giving you the privilege to be fucked by a god, a divine being, a higher existence. You should feel honored that I chose someone as lowly as you to satisfy me.”
Your mind was swimming in a haze of pleasure, lust, and pain. It had been so long since he took you like this, hard and rough, “I- Th-Thank you!! Lord Kuna~”
You were the perfect submissive, the perfect little toy, the perfect plaything. You did anything he wanted you to, obeyed him without fail. You loved him so much, worshipped him so much, you would do anything for him.
He knew that, he knew everything about you, and that was why he could use you like a puppet on a string.
And you were happy.
Even as his hips slammed against yours, even as your thighs, your stomach, your ass were covered with the white stickiness of his seed. You were happy to be his.
The way he spoke to you was demeaning, degrading, even cruel at times, but you didn't care, no, why would you when he looks at you with those eyes… Those soft beautiful eyes. Those were the eyes that told you he cared. That he loved you.
Wrapping your legs around his large waist, you pulled him close, and smiled. You knew he would never let go of you.
He was the sun, and you were the planet that revolved around him.
Your very reason for living.
“My lord~” You carefully maneuvered your arms from the two that had them pinned above your head, and wrapped them around him, pressing his body against your own.
You were the happiest when you were with him, even if he hurt you in the thrall of passion, even if you had to hide the marks, the scars, and even the bruises sometimes, you were still so happy.
The king of curses smirked, “So hungry for my cock. How many times have I filled you up tonight, pet? Are you really so starved for my cum that you're wishing to take even more?”
You whined, and bucked your hips, begging him silently for more, and he gladly obliged, filling you to the brim once more.
Sukuna leaned down and bit down harshly onto the side of your neck. The sharp pain of it brought you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length and you let out a strangled moan.
He was beautiful, he was amazing, he was the only thing in this world that was worth living for, the only thing that was worth dying for.
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lilystyles · 2 days
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part three of style, written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx & style masterlist
authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333
brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.
warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.
It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person he loves someone.
Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.
Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.
But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.
He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.
Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.
But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to. 
If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow. 
He wanted her so badly.
Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.
And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.
His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.
However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.
Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.
Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.
He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.
But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.
Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working. 
In.
Out.
In. 
Out.
As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.
This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.
And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop. 
He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.
He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other. 
Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.
Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.
So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.
Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.
Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.
Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.
“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.
Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.
Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.
“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?
“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.
Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.
His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.
Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.
Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.
Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.
He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.
She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.
Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.
“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.
He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.
“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.
She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”
Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word. 
“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”
She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much. 
“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.
“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.
She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”
Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”
She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.
And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.
“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.
“You so are.” He replied.
She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.
The devil had a magic spell on the angel.
“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.
Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.
She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.
She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”
He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”
She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.
It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”
She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”
She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how. 
Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’
Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”
Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off. 
“Oops.” She giggled.
“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.
“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.
He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”
She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.
They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.
“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.
He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes. 
“Anything?” He asked mischievously. 
She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”
He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.
His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.
She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.
His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.
As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.
Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.
Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.
With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.
Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.
Harry shifted his hips to move with hers  “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.
Oh shit.
“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was. 
He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.
Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.
Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??” 
Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”
Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh. 
“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.
Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.
“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed. 
Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there. 
“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”
Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest. 
She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”
Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”
Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”
Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.
Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”
He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”
Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.
Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”
He just nodded, and let out a breath.
“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.
He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.
“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.
They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.
All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?
She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.
But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings. 
The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.
She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.
Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.
Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.
Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?
He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”
She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”
He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”
She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.
She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.
She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her? 
“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.
He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.
He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”
Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”
She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking. 
“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”
The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n. 
Her heart practically stopped.
He’d liked her too? 
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. 
Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession. 
He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.
“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”
He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”
He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”
Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.
Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”
He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response. 
“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.
He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment. 
Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.
“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.
She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”
He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised. 
“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.
She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”
This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him? 
She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face. 
“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.
In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.
Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.
A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.
This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”
A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”
That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?
He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome. 
“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again. 
She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her. 
She was so adorable. 
Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip. 
“Take this off,” She sighed.
He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.
His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.
She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.
He leaned down now, almost face to face.
“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.
He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.” 
She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”
He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.
“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.
Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.
Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.
His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.
His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.
“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly. 
“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.
“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.
He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.
She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.
His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”
One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.
When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.
“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.
One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.
He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry. 
“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.
He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”
And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.
“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.
She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl. 
He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath. 
The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.
Her.
When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.
“Sensitive,” She whispered.
He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”
She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him. 
His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.
Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.
As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.
“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.
“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.
“Can I suck you off?”
He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”
She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.
She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.
She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”
He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”
She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.
He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”
His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.
“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”
She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”
He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.
His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”
Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.
His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”
He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off. 
She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.
Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.
“You okay, Trouble?”
She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”
His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”
She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.
He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.
She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”
And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.
“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.
Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back. 
They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.
He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.
“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.
“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.
When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin. 
“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.
She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him. 
When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.
Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name. 
“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.
He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.
Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry. 
“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.
When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.
She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth. 
Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.
“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”
She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was. 
Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.
Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.
Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.
Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched. 
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”
Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.
“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.
“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.
She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.
It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.
 “Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.
Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.
And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show. 
But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.
He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.
As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry. 
Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her. 
Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class. 
Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing. 
She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.
The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.
And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.
Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.
“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.
Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”
“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked. 
Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”
Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.
She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.
But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”
Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.
His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry. 
She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.
She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.
As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those! 
She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips. 
“Take me home, Styles?”
So he did.
love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx
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impala-dreamer · 1 day
Text
Stay With Me
A Supernatural Story
~Dean is into his second bottle of whiskey, desperate to drive his problems away. But he knows deep down, the booze isn't what he truly needs...~
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
1,390 Words
Warnings: Bittersweet Angst
Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works
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In one fluid motion, he cracked the seal on the new bottle of whiskey and plopped back down into his chair. The old seat groaned and the wheels rolled back a bit, sliding with the force of his weight over the polished floor.
Dean poured himself another healthy shot and stared down into the glass, enjoying how the light from the glowing table beneath set the crystal aflame. His lips turned in a half smile and he sighed.
“If you hold it up to the light at the right angle, you can see a rainbow.”
Y/N’s voice hit his ear and he lifted the glass to his lips, smiling even wider as she came into view.
Dressed in his old green flannel and seemingly nothing else, she leaned against the archway, arms and bare ankles crossed. He looked up and licked a drop of drink from his lips, savoring the taste and the way she looked. Her hair was a beautiful mess, the day’s makeup smudged around her eyes like she had meant it to look that way. Her mouth still held a faint stain from her faded lipstick and she pouted as he stared, driving his mind towards unholy thoughts.
“Rough day?” she asked, pushing off the tiles to walk slowly towards him.
“You should know,” he sighed around the rim of the tumbler. “You were with me.”
Y/N nodded and pulled out the chair across from him. “True.”
He eyed her over the glass, loving the way she sat down so delicately only to slump against the back of the chair. She leaned back and kicked her feet up onto the map, toes casting a shadow over Brazil.
“But really, it wasn’t that bad,” she teased. “Not bad enough for a second bottle of bourbon, anyway.”
“It’s whiskey,” he corrected.
She shrugged. “Same thing.”
Dean shook his head and set the glass down, fingers lingering on the sharp edges of the design. “Not true. Bourbon is always whiskey, but whiskey ain’t always bourbon. This is just straight up, get ya drunk, forget your life for a few hours whiskey.”
She knocked her feet off the table and turned to face him head on. “And why would you want to forget your life, Mr. Winchester? What’s so horrible lately that you’d want it to go away?”
He laughed sadly, bowing his head, avoiding her eyes. “Oh, you know me. Just being overdramatic.”
Y/N leaned forward and set her clasped hands in front of her. The ring he’d given her glinted in the warm golden light from below and Dean’s gaze was locked on the antique silver and brilliant red stone.
He remembered when they saw it in that little shop outside Paramus. The old hippie behind the counter told them that carnelian was special, used for protection and to ward off evil spirits. Y/N had laughed so brilliantly when she heard that, rolling her eyes at the thought of a cheap little ring keeping the demons away. Her smile had been so beautiful that Dean doubled back later that day and purchased the ring for her.
She never took it off.
“Dean Winchester, you are never overdramatic,” she asserted. “Medium dramatic, sure. A little crazy sometimes? We all are. But never overdramatic. Under dramatic if anything.”
She winked and Dean’s shoulders relaxed, his heart melting for her like it did every time she was close by. He was quiet for a long moment, just studying her face. Memorizing the way the lights and shadows played on her cheeks, the unique line of her nose, the fan of lashes curved over her pretty eyes. She was engraved in his mind, her face always hiding just behind his closed eyes.
“Under dramatic, huh?” He took a sip and let the whiskey burn his tongue a bit before swallowing. His mouth was mostly numb by now, but the little bit at the roof of his mouth still felt and that feeling needed to be punished.
“You know I’m right,” she grinned and sat back. “I always am.”
Dean chuckled and drained the glass. “Sure are.”
It was an old joke between them. She was always right no matter the situation, no matter the topic being discussed. The unwritten rule was that even when wrong, Y/N was always right. She also seemed to win every single competition and argument. A smile could get her out of trouble, a pout would break him enough to roll over and let her win. Every single time.
“You’re damned right, Winchester. I’m always right.” She dipped her chin and stared at him, gorgeous eyes peeling back the mask he so often hid behind. “So, spill. What’s wrong?”
Dean licked his lips and tried to look away. “I’m fine.”
She clicked her tongue. “Bull. What’s going on?”
Again, he tried to tear his eyes away, but he was locked in her gaze, trapped by her voice. “Nothing.”
With a huff, she stood up and kicked the chair away with her right foot. It coasted across the floor until it hit the wall and spun around on itself.
Slowly, she walked around the table and perched on the edge next to him. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the sweet smell of her. Faint coconut and something sugary filled his senses and Dean leaned back with a squeak of antique coils.
Y/N reached for his glass and Dean watched as she lifted it to her lips, held her breath, took a long sip. She shivered as it burned down her throat and coughed gently.
“This is terrible,” she laughed, setting the tumblr back down.
He nodded. “It’s not great.”
“So, what’s got you trying to kill your liver with the worst fucking whiskey I’ve ever tasted?”
She wiggled a bit to get more comfortable, spreading her knees just enough to touch his leg with her toes. He melted into the touch and fought back a fresh wave of tears.
He knew she wouldn’t let it go until he confessed, knew she’d keep on teasing and prodding until he gave her what she wanted. But he couldn’t say it aloud, couldn’t let the words leave his head and fly out into the world.
If he did, she would leave.
He needed her there, just for a little while longer.
Needed to smell her coconut lotion, feel her toes on his thigh, see her sweet smile. He needed to hear her say his name in that sweet, secret tone she only used with him.
A single tear slipped through his defenses, sliding carelessly down his cheek.
Y/N gasped under her breath and reached for it, wiping the wet away with the soft pad of her thumb. “Oh, baby… it’s ok.”
Before she could pull away, Dean grabbed her wrist. He wrapped his fingers tight around her arm and held her there, letting her heat fill his mind, soothe the pain.
“It’s not OK, Y/N/N,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and took a breath, one last drink of her air, her being. “I- I don’t want you to go.”
She leaned forward, dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “I have to, Dean. You know that.”
Drunken tears flowed freely; his throat closed tight. “Please,” he begged, close to choking on his grief. “Stay with me. Just a little bit longer…”
Y/N sighed and slid down off of the table, her hand still locked in his. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to go.” She chewed her lip and smiled softly. “But I’ll always be with you. I promise.”
Green eyes rose to her face. She was haloed in something brighter than the Bunker’s lights, something sacred, some glow cast down from Heaven.
“Please… Stay with me.”
Her image began to fade but her smile never did.
Dean closed his eyes, kissed her hand, whispered her name into the empty room.
She was gone again, drawn back into his memory, a ghost only in his whiskey addled mind.
He knew she wasn’t really there when she appeared- he’d set the pyre ablaze himself. But still, whenever he met the bottom of a bottle, he’d dream her up and feel her spirit around him. Nights like these he wondered if maybe, if somehow… she had stayed with him.
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billskeis · 1 day
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can you please write something for Tom where he's like sooo in love with the reader but also really in denial and a bit scared cause he's never been in love before/ felt like this? (I know this sounds mega kitschy)
i love your account so much, everything is so pretty on here!!
thank you my love, i hope i didnt disappoint c:
ᡣ𐭩 tom, a dummy in a denial
tom was your friend. your rock. you don’t remember how it happened, but as soon as the two of you met, sparks flew. not in the way that you think, god no! the two of you couldn’t ever imagine being anything other than friends. more than friends, right? well, so you think ..
as tom grabbed his car keys, he ushered bill to be at the doorstep in ten seconds or he would leave without him, “fuck! tom! i can’t find my rings..” with a scoff, tom rolled his eyes already beginning to open the front door, “just leave without them! we’re gonna be late.”
“what’s got you in a rush? it’s a goddamn house party..” bill skipped down the stairs fumbling to now put his shoes on. as tom ran his hand through his hair, he hesitates to respond, not really sure what DOES have him in a rush.
as bill waits for his older brother to respond, seeing as how he breaks out in a cold sweat he can’t help but realize now, letting out a small laugh, “oh..” “oh what?” “it’s cause you want to see y/n,” and tom can’t help but widen his eyes and so hard they might pop out of his eye sockets.
“what?? pshh, i don’t know what you’re talking about—i mean—me and y/n are friends, best friends!” bill pushes tom out the door as the two walk to tom’s new cadillac. “for someone who you consider a best friend, you’re so eager to see her.” tom sarcastically laughs at bill, “i am not!!” “yeah, lemme know when you’re done being in denial, tom, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”
upon arrival, both the kaulitz twins enter the house already booming with house music. loud voices and laughs were shared, dancing, engaging and talking, making out, drinking. but there you stood. standing there, solo cup in your hand, laughing with a couple of your girlfriends as you sip on the alcoholic drink.
you looked amazing, tom had to blink twice to truly comprehend it was you. what am i even saying—of course he knew it was you. you were no lesser than a diamond to his eyes. the way your dress hugged tightly around your curves, glossy lips and hair ever so shiny. you were his aphrodite.
“stop staring and let’s go talk to her!” bill exclaimed pulling tom by his arms, “what’re you doing?? stop!” “tom cut the bullshit right now before i slap you in the face—hey y/n! how are you??” he cuts himself midway as bill nagged at tom while pulling him to where you stood.
“bill! oh my god hi!! ‘m feeling good tonight, hi tom!” you wave at tom before pulling him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his body, not noticing at how he tensed up around your presence now. “hi y/n..” you tilted your head to the side, ‘hi y/n?’ what kind of a greeting was that?
you hold one of tom’s hands, running a thumb over the back of his hand. he swears his heart fell out of his ass as he choked on his spit but tried to conceal it, “you okay tom?” “yeah! perfectly fine! now where’s the alcohol??” he grabd a bottle immediately pouring himself a shot, downing it within the quick ten seconds of having poured it, fire trickling down his throat.
tom needs liquid courage. he’s never really realized that he’s felt a certain way for his best friend. she now makes him, nervous. like he needs to find the perfect words to say in order to put a smile on her face. as if he doesn’t already do that. but now, it’s different. he can’t fuck this up. he’s scared, alcohol will do the trick for sure!
“easy there tiger!” bill giggles as you look at his twin brother in confusion. bill can only shrug, as he walks off to go find georg and gustav who are already drunk off their minds dancing in the living room. you focus your attention back on tom who already seems like he’s had four more shots in the time that you only spent exchanging looks w bill.
with a gasp, you swiftly grab the bottle and shot glasses from tom and head towards the dance floor. you hold tom’s hands and give him a little spin. “seems like ya had fun with those shots eh?” “mmhm.. glad to see you y/n, been a while :),” and you perk up, smiling at tom who’s hip swayed in rhythm with yours.
wanting to spice things up a bit (with your bestfriend?) you hold tom’s waist, pressing it flush against yours. if it weren’t for the dim, flashing lights, you would see how red tom’s face is. and it’s not from the alcohol. he can’t help but open his mouth in shock, hiding his face in your neck.
“y/n..” “mmhm?” he whispers in your ears, tom now has his arms wrapped around your waist as you slowly danced with one another. arms engulfing his neck, you push it even further to your ear, almost sending tom into an orbit of emotion. but it seems as though the alcohol has caught up to him.
dizzy, he can only rock side to side now as the two of you stand. it’s now quiet between the two of you, with only music to fill in the silence. admittedly, tom speaks before he thinks as he mumbles a “god you are just so breathtaking tonight y/n..” well, that was a first, you immediately latch him off your body and hold his shoulders to get a good look at him.
his head is lolled down as it looks as if it’s being hung of his body. you can see a dopey smile plastered on his face as the rest of him is like putty within your hands, doing as it’s told while you simply hold him straight. oh, he’s fucking drunk, and he might puke. you remember the last time the two of you were out together he gets all giggly and loopy before needing to let it all out. the little details matter.
“oh no, we need to get some fresh air,” you hug his body against your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you make your way towards the balcony. shoving through the crowd of people, you are met with bill, gustav and georg who stop you in your tracks. “y/n! where are you going??” “to get your brother some fresh air!” jokingly, georg screams a ‘seems like you care about him!’ and you scream back ‘i do!’ without hesitance.
a coo is heard from your side as you look down to tom who’s body is slumped against yours. opening the slide door, he whines “aww, you care about me?” “shut up tom,” and he dramatically pouts before holding himself on the railing of the balcony, taking in the fresh, cold air to somewhat rid of his nausea.
you lean on the railway, looking at your best friend whose movements are extremely sluggish and slow. you pat his back, following by rubbing circles on it, feeling the cotton of his black t-shirt which, made him look really good. his hair was tied back in a low bun, as his sunglasses hung off the collar of his shirt. how could such a simple outfit make someone look so good?
after a few moments of silence being exchanged between one another. tom finally backs off the railing to bring back up all the shots he drank without eating prior to it, puking it all into a plant pot for, let’s say, plant purposes! you wince at the noises but can only hope that plant is a plant the house owner neglects and doesn’t see the puke.
spitting out the remnants, tom immediately feels better. but he can’t bring himself to face you, not after embarrassing himself in front of the girl he found out to have liked since the beginning of time. you notice this, and soften a gaze at his back, muscles defined through the thin fabric. with a tap of his shoulder, he hesitantly turns to be met with you holding out a water bottle.
thanking you, he immediately twists open the cap to drink the water, downing almost half the bottle. as he almost finishes it, he places the bottle onto the ladder attached to the railing, now holding onto it again, leaning his head on it as he stares at you. you were looking through the sliding door glass admiring bill, georg and gustav dancing. looks like they’re having an amazing time!
“oh god, i can’t believe how much i adore you..” you jerk your head to look at tom so fast you swore you gave yourself whiplash, “what!?” “oh fuck—sorry—i don’t know what came over me.. pretend you didn’t hear that.” you mouth hangs open in disbelief, pretend you didn’t hear that!? what is he talking about??
you step closer to him as he pretends to look away into the stars of the night sky, “tom!! look at me and tell me what you said..” your expectant, you wanted to hear those words again. you couldn’t believe it, the best friend whom you’ve liked for so many years might reciprocate your feelings. you hold onto that hope as much as possible. as his eyes dart in many directions but yours, you shift your head quickly enough to always meet his gaze.
“mmm fine..! i said i adore you..” “why thank you, i adore you too..” wanting to make a little joke out of it, seeming as though you adore him just as a best friend and nothing more, “no, no not like that y/n. god i can’t believe it took me this many years to realize how i truly felt about you,” and he licks his lips, becoming dry with anxiety. you cross your arms, “and what is it that you feel about me?”
“well, for starts, i love you. i love you so much y/n that i couldn’t see myself with anyone but you. why it took me so long? i—i don’t know i think i was scared?? felt as if my whole life i was incapable of loving or even being loved. my whole life i’ve been through materialistic relationships, temporary relationships, relationships with a motive.. was scared you were gonna end up as one of those so i, didn’t take the risk.. ‘m hearts never skipped a beat before until you. until you, i’ve never felt so content with life, i want to be your boyfriend but you obviously don’t have to say yes we just can remain friends—”
“tom!!” you interrupted midway through his rambling, he just stops in his tracks, “you didn’t even ask how i felt! you only assumed i wouldn’t return the feeling,” and he bites his lips, goddamnittomyoustupidfuckingidiotyoushouldveletherspeak. leaning even further into the railway, he awaits your answer. nervous, an uncomfortable pit forming in his stomach expecting the worse. “oh! i um.. ha, sorry..”
you inhale a deep breath, exhaling as you clench your palms together, “you dummy, i love you too. i guess i’ve always adored you, a lot. it’s also hard for me to convey my feelings, dunno what it is, but hey! glad we got that out huh??” you giggle, smiling at tom, who has a cheeky grin plastered on his face. in a world full of complicated girls, you were simple. easygoing. it was as simple as that. he couldn’t be any more happier over the fact that the one for him considered him as her one. you immediately pull tom into a hug, who then awkwardly asks you to be his girlfriend, and of course, you said yes.
“i’m so into you, y/n.”
“i know!”
i dont have the knack to write fluff anymore .. im soo sorry anon T_T
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i was inspired off these pics , just imagine tom looking up at you with those with those eyes after finding out you liked him too , cute !
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yourbestprincess · 13 hours
Text
Mein Kleines Mädchen
Older!König (40s) Young!reader (18- early 20s)
Giant age gap but y’know, size kink, slightly hyper fem!reader, reader is a female, König is rough and also has a cute little German accent and calls you cute pet names in German, König is also your dads bestie but not anymore! Creampie, slut-shaming but also praise , fingering.
Hope I didn’t miss anything! XD
(Gentle reminder that König is HUGE, I'm pretty sure he's 6'10 which, if you're average hight, is ginormous.)
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You’ve always thought König was overly attractive, but you would never do anything…I mean he was your father’s best friend.
He always eyed you when they hung out, which was rare because he was always deployed.
König was way bigger than you were, he merely towered over you when you two would talk. Which, to say the least, you loved.
You thought he was so attractive. From how big he was to his greying ginger hair to his blue eyes which looked at you in such a way that made your stomach flutter.
****
He was finally coming over today. You were finally in collage now, in your eyes a grown woman.
He was staying the night according to your dad because he got kicked from his apartment from being gone so long, to which you weren’t complaining.
It was so early; almost too early, but you heard a knock at the door. Even before he knocked you felt his presence. Your heart pounds as you peak out of your window to see his car. You walk down the stairs, only in an oversized white t-shirt that covered your tight black shorts. You clear your shirt of any wrinkles before looking through the peephole and opening the door.
“Guten Morgen, schatz.” He smiles softly. you notice that he’s still quite dirty.
“Oh, ‘morning König.” you smile back softly before letting him in, your heart still pounding in your chest, it feels like it’s gonna run away.
He gives you a lousy side hug and drops his bags on the stairs before giving you a forehead kiss.
“Mm.” He breathes you in “Schatz, where is your father?” He backs away slightly to give you some sense of personal space.
“He’s working today until about 8:30. Sorry, I should probably let you settle in and shower I know you’re tired and-“
“Shh, liebling. Stay with me, I suppose I need some company, ja?” He looks down at you, reaching his calloused hand over and putting it on the side of your head in which you lean into.
“Okay, well first let me draw you a shower.” You bite your lip gently before leading him into the upstairs bathroom next to your room. He follows you, humming something you swear you've heard before.
"Du bist so ein liebes kleines Mädchen" (You're such a sweet little girl) König snickers while trailing so close behind you that he's basically hovering over you.
He thought you didn't understand what he was saying. You really touched up on your German before he came back from whatever mission he was on. You knew he said things to you in German before, but he never thought you'd know. Not until now. Your blood wastes no time making your cheeks hot and red with straight fluster.
He grips your arm and turns you with his mere strength. "Oh dear. Du verstehst jetzt?" (Oh dear. You understand now?) He tilts his head, squatting down to your hight.
You try to look down but he forces you to look up at him with your practically pathetic puppy eyes. "Ja...since you got deployed again. I should've told you, but I just wanted to know what you were saying to me."
His eyes feel like they're staring sharply into your soul, like he was looking straight into your heart. He knows that your heart grows and yearns from him. "Ja? Good girl." His accent spills out more when he's eager.
"C'mon lieb." He stands back up letting you finish showing him to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and make sure its the perfect temperature for such a man. You set out a towel and an unopened bar of soap.
"Okay, there you go. You can..um meet me in my room when you're done." You say with just a little bit of excitement in your voice.
"Ja, liebling." He says with a soothing voice rather than before.
As you wait in your room, you change into a pink see-though lingerie dress with a matching pink thong. To top it all off, you wear some white thigh high socks. You sit pretty on your bed and wait for him to get out of the shower.
****
You hear a knock at your bedroom door. "Hey, Liebling? Can I come in?" You ignore it for a second but before you can cover up he busts through the door.
"Mein gott liebe. Scheisse... don't do this to me. You know I can't hold back." His is heavy. It's obvious that blood went to his dick just from looking at his towel.
"I don't want you to hold back." You say as he steps into the room. His hair wet and towel barley covers his v-line. He sighs and walks closer to you.
“Mein schatz…What a fucking tease are you? Gut Gott.” He towers over your small frame, lifting up your legs and pressing kisses on your thighs as he props them up on his shoulder. His cock is fully hard, it’s throbbing and oozing out pre-cum.
“Bitte…König. You know how many years I’ve been waiting for this..” Your panties are so soaked that it’s visible. Who knew you’d be such a slut for the man who was there when your father wasn’t.
He moves your panties to the side with his middle finger. He pushes his middle and ring fingers inside you and rubs his thumb on your throbbing clit. You cry and whine under his touch. He knows how bad you need him.
“Is this too much schatz? If it is, how am I going to put this cock in you? It craves you, you know that liebling?” He takes his hand away from your wet entrance and lets the towel fall to his ankles. His cock springs up, you can see pearls of pre-cum dripping onto your bed. He gives his drooling shaft a couple of pumps before spitting on his middle and ring finger to wet your entrance just enough to fit his massive cock.
“Ready liebe?” He shoves the tip past your entrance making your shutter and whine from the size.
“Ja, you’ll be okay mein schatz.” You bite your lip and cry with him going deeper, trying to fit his 8 1/2 inches in your tight pussy that’s just taking him so well.
“König…s'too much..Bitte! Pleasepleaseplease!…” You whine and moan from the pain. Your thoughts are clouded with pure white pleasure. You know how wrong this is, but, Mein Gott, is it worth it. You're gripping his back and begging for god knows what.
“Nimm es einfach wie ein braves Mädchen, ja? Getting close for me already, Gut gott." (Just take it like a good girl, yeah?) König can't help but notice how pathetic and weak you are under him. His blunt tip pushes against your g-spot over and over again until you're crying and going cock-dumb over him.
" Du liebst es einfach, wie eine Schlampe gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr? What a good fucking girl for me." (You just love getting fucked like a slut, don't you? What a good fucking girl for me.) You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier and heavier. His breath begins to hitch and he can't help but whimper just a little from how tight his Liebe is.
"König...gonna cum right now.. Vati... fuck- feels s'good..." Before you can even think about getting close, he pulls out of you and sits down on your bed, getting comfy before motioning you to sit on his lap. You slide off your panties and see-through dress, craving that skin to skin with him.
"Ja, that's it Mein Schatz, ease down on me, you've got it Liebe" As you sink down on his fat cock, he notices that it makes an indentation on your tummy.
"S'too much König... too big." You barely make out in whimpers and cries. He continues to thrust deeper into your sopping cunt. You really hope your dad isn't gonna come home anytime soon.
"Shh, It's alright, you'll be okay Mein Liebe. Just let me use this pretty pussy, ja?" He pushes his cock so far up into you that you were genuinely surprised on how he was able to bottom out in you. His thrusts are sharp and fast with so much power that you moan everytime he thrusts. König knows you're close from the way you're clenching down on him and how loud your moans are.
"Bitte... I need to.." You cry out before König's thrusts become sharper and somehow even faster.
"I know, I know. I'm gonna come with... scheisse- come with you, okay?" He can't stop grunting now, its all pleasure now. White pleasure clouds his visions.
"Christ- Ich liebe dich schatz- fuck. I always have. And look, now I get to fuck this little body of yours and even fill you up with my cum, eh?"
His vision returns to you, already cumming on his cock. So pathetic, you can't even speak. You're too entranced at cumming on his thick cock to even think. And now here he is, filling you up with his potent cum. He pumps and twitches just a few more times until you two ride out your orgasm.
****
"Was I too much Mein liebe?" He wraps his big arms around you as you snuggle into him. warm sheets cover your bodies.
"You were perfect. Everything and more than what I was ever expecting." He wraps you into him even tighter, pressing kisses on your forehead and soft lips.
"Ich liebe dich auch, König."
Your dad's gonna be so pissed when he finds out his little girl is getting fucked by his so called best friend.
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p4ndawrites · 23 hours
Text
Love never felt easier
Tags: Female Reader, love interest insert, no mention of Y/N
Hey Guys! So this is just me getting back into writing so sorry if it's a bit rusty. Eitherway I hope you enjoy!
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She loved him. Didn't she?
The constant thrum of her heartbeat that spiked when he was around had proven that. Though she played it off easily considering how playful she was around others, but surely…
Surely, this was different.
Perhaps it started with the small things, like noticing the way he would tap his pencil on the desk to fill the silence, the constant 'ticking' serving as a way for others to know that he was bored. Or how he wasn't afraid to be himself even if others thought negatively about him. The happy, over-the-top personality that somehow made it so much easier to hide the growing feelings she felt under a veil of irritation yet also made it difficult to hide the smile that almost always appeared when he was around.
When had it even started? Was it after she threatened to hit him with her bag? Or was it when she asked him over for their weekly movie night?
Maybe it had started when he had stayed over the night last month and woke to her silent sobs that she thought she could get out without waking him. When he wrapped his arms around her, teasing her in hopes her anger would overtake her sadness (no one said he was good at comforting others, but the thought counts) because he'd rather see her yelling than crying. How she had woken up that morning to his blanket being thrown over her own, him lying asleep on the other couch that somehow had been pulled closer to her own.
Or maybe, just maybe it had been because he never spoke of it again. He would tease and nag, but he'd never ask her why she was crying because he knew that she would have told him if she were comfortable with it.
Either way, the point is that she fell for him, hadn't she? Every action, every smile, every word, she had softened quite a bit recently towards him. No longer would she snap at him as much as she did before, seeming to go for more of a teasing approach just to see his smile widen as he took on the challenge.
Now that she thinks about it, she probably had been in love with him for a while and only realized it now when it was too much to ignore. People seem to think that it's easy for one to notice when their feelings change for someone, but how do you know when everything feels the same?
Same words, different font.
The point is, she's pretty sure that she fell for him. Now what should she do? No one gave detailed instructions on how to deal with the emotion, and now she was completely in the dark.
But all in all, no matter how irritating he may be and how many times she wished he had an off switch, she's glad she fell for him.
Because even though she's in the dark about what to do now, he'll be the light to pull her out of it.
He always is.
_________________________________________
copyright © p4ndawrites
Do not steal work or repost as your own
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blushweddinggowns · 3 days
Text
Robin sat right down, sighing, “So what? We all live in the woods and hope the kids find us?”
“They will,” Steve reassured, “Lucas is probably getting help as we speak. Besides, it’s not that cold out. We’ll be fine. And if they don’t find us, we’ll find them.” 
Nancy nodded, despite the fact that she was already shivering. But Steve noticed. He didn’t even hesitate to take his own jacket off. 
She frowned, as he draped it over her shoulders,  “But what about you?”
“I have a sweater and an Eddie blanket,” Steve smiled, “I'll be just fine.”
“Speaking of that…” Eddie trailed in, “How about Steve and I go a little bit away and keep watch?”
Chrissy knew Jason was losing it, but she was 100 percent confident he was busy dealing with his murdered friend. She frowned, “Do you really think they’ll come after watching their friend die-”
“Yeah, you two go do that,” Robin interrupted with a sigh. She turned to Chrissy, “They want to make-out and save us the headache. We’re almost certain to be good for the night.”
“We'll be back soon,” Steve said, a slight flush to his cheeks but he didn’t correct her, “And we won’t go far.”
“Within an hour,” Nancy warned, “And keep quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said flippantly, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “You won’t even miss us.”
They walked away into the darkness, leaning into each other as they went. Chrissy was pretty sure she saw Steve stick his hand into Eddie’s back pocket before they were out of sight. 
“It’s actually insane that they haven’t gotten caught yet,” Robin said as she watched them go, “I only found out because I saw them shoving tongues in a parking lot. But once you know, you can never unsee it.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t catch on sooner,” Chrissy sighed as she sat to Robin’s left, Nancy taking the right, “Did they really trick all of you?”
“All of us,” Nancy confirmed through a yawn, “They can actually be pretty sneaky when they want to be. They just never want to be.”
Nancy rested her head against Robin’s shoulder, Steve’s jacket wrapped tightly around her, “We should sleep.”
“We will,” Robin said quietly, “But don’t wait for us. Go right ahead.”
Nancy gave her a little smile, “If you say so.”
It barely took a few minutes for her to be completely out. She looked so peaceful, so much younger when she was asleep. Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was a small girl, but she had so much presence. 
“She looks so much bigger when she's awake,” Chrissy mumbled quietly, “Like she can take on the world.”
“She probably could,” Robin laughed, “I think it’s all personality.”
“I know. I wish I could be like that.”
“Why?” Robin asked, furrowing her brow, “You’re literally perfect.”
Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at that, “How on Earth am I perfect?”
But Robin didn’t look like she was joking, “Dude you are. You’re so sweet and fun. You’re talented, athletic, pretty, but still nice somehow. You’re brave as hell, if this whole scenario stands for anything. And you’re hot when you punch dudes in the face.”
That was almost too sweet for Chrissy to hear. But she couldn’t help but zero in on one thing, “You think I’m hot?”
Robin froze, opening and closing her mouth as she stuttered, “I-No? I mean, yes? I-objectively yes. Not creepily.”
Chrissy smiled, her heart beating a little faster at the implication. But… Jason. She felt so bad for him. After what he’d seen, it made sense to blame them. But it only made sense now. There was no framework to understand what was happening before and to just blame Eddie and Nancy for everything was ridiculous. She’d never seen him like that before, so out of sorts. He was so good at keeping his temper undercheck, she didn’t get what was happening to him.
But… she had been pretty clear hadn’t she? She didn’t leave with him, she never even tried. She told him to go home, that she didn’t need him, she didn’t want him. It… it was close enough to a break-up wasn’t it? Chrissy wasn’t sure. Though she had a feeling even thinking of things the way she was made her a bad person. 
It just didn’t stop her from blurting, “I-I count tonight as breaking up with Jason. Just so you know. We um, we were never that close but my mom- she likes his family a-and… he used to be nice. He is nice but he’s… it doesn’t matter. We aren’t together. Just um, so you know. If you didn’t.”
She wanted to say more but… Chrissy could only be so brave in one day.
“I was um,” Robin swallowed, her face already red, “I was hoping that was the case. Because you deserve to be happy and I don’t…. I don't think he could do that.”
“He couldn’t,” Chrissy said softly, inching her fingers slowly to intertwine with Robin’s. She felt okay, as okay as she could be with the circumstances-
“Mmph!” 
Chrissy nearly jumped at the sudden noise, the only saving grace was that she definitely recognized it as Eddie’s voice. 
“Are they okay?” Chrissy asked nervously, staring out into the darkness. But Robin didn’t seem worried, she just gave Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
“I wouldn't check if I were you,” Robin sighed, “If they get loud again I'll throw a rock in their general direction. But they are fine. Trust me.”
from the newest chapter of this fic
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iheartjohnlennon · 20 hours
Note
George Harrison overstimulation 🎀 I need that boy CRYING, WINING, GAGGED, TIED. Like, I need him on the brink of consciousness, barely able to form full groans anymore. Pretty pretty please.
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'Behind that locked door'
Your home in London, '74-'75
Word count: 3K+
Tags: Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Light Dom/sub, Teasing
George was sat on the edge of your bed. He was fidgeting with his feet. Behind him, you lounged against the pillows, half-naked and smiling at him unnoticed. You had been relaxed like this for the past half an hour since you had both showered together.
He was slightly out of your foots reach. All you were staring at was his clothed back. You saw George was quite thin, but he still had tone where it counted. His soft, brown waves flowed down way past his ears. You liked the way he got his hair cut now - it made him look majestic, matured....and it was very, very nice to stroke. But it wasn't just his physical appearance that drew you in; it was his demeanour. There was a depth to him, a spirituality.
What a beauty he was, even when you couldn't see his face at all.
 
The silence between you was comfortable, it allowed you to appreciate him and what not, but eventually, the need for interaction; the need for him; the need for his cock, became too strong to simply ignore. So, you poked his back with your foot a few times.
"George..." You spoke.
Your voice had strained slightly, sounding needy for him.
His expression was calm when he turned to you, but it wasn't without his toothy grin. You could see his cute anticipation. He always sounded so excited on the phone when you invited him over.
"Y/N..." He mimicked back, his voice smooth. 
Taking a breath, you sat up fully and smiled at him. "Come here." 
Without any hesitation, George complied, crawling onto the bed fully, taking away all the space that was between you both before.
He laid on his back and looked to the ceiling. When he settled beside you, you stayed sitting up so you could look down him - lovingly, of course. The sight of him, relaxed and vulnerable beneath you, sent an erotic thrill coursing through you.
You reached out to lightly trace the exposed skin peeking through the undone buttons of his shirt. Your fingers traced there slowly, drawing lazy circles that made him feel nice. 
His head tiredly tilted to the side, trying to decipher what you wanted him to do tonight.
But any thoughts that lingered in his mind were quickly forgotten when he felt your hand grasping his chin.
He looked into your eyes; your usual loving gaze was now clouded with a blunt lust. 
George felt himself falling into relaxation with your touch, brows relaxing as his eyes fell to a half-lidded stare.
Your smile never left your face and George was sure you could tell him to bark and he’d ask, like which dog? 
"Is there anythin' I can do for you?" He asked teasingly, breaking the second silence. 
"Well, it depends." You answered vaguely, holding back a giggle. 
Taking your laughter as an invitation for foreplay, George's hand trailed up your thigh. Before he could even try undressing you, your hand sharply slapped his away. 
"Ow." He felt like a scolded child, he frowned at you. "What? 'm not allowed to touch you now or somethin'?"
You didn't answer him and bit your lip, feeling a bit bad for teasing him, but not bad enough to not proceed with your little plan. 
George was looking to you, waiting for you to either give him permission to feel you, or to tell him what game you were playing today. 
The hand that had slapped him away now drew him in closer by his jaw. You cooed to soothe his frustration - George always fell victim to your words.
"Since someone doesn't know how to keep their hands to themselves, I don't think they should be allowed to use them at all!"
Your voice dripped with sultriness, and your smile was still just as sweet as before - you hoped your dominance was working.
George stared at you, dumbfounded by this new attitude. He didn't dislike it though, and not one to question you, he simply nodded. 
"Yeah, 'course...'m sorry, I'll keep them to meself."
He assured you, wanting to play along with what he thought was just an insignificant role play. 
But then you shook your head, hair bouncing with every direction you turned. "No, no, that won't do. How can I perfectly make sure you won't touch me?"
"I..uh, I dunno, really." He replied.
George’s teeth bit at the inside of his cheek. Shit. You were being serious; you weren't just being silly. 
He tried to think of any reason he could. He wanted to blabber to you that he was a good boy, that he could behave and listen to you - but with the look you gave him, he knew it was better to just...obey?
Then your sharp nail landed under his chin, forcing him to look at you again. And he did, he looked at you from his lashes, strands of his hair covered his face.
He looked weak now, small even. Usually, it was the other way around. You delicately brushed his hair away from his face and gave his nose a small peck.
"I have a really good idea on how. Do you want to know my idea, George?"
George nodded, a bit too eagerly you noticed.
"Go on, use your words. Can't quite hear you if you’re nodding." You snapped. 
His mouth opened and closed thrice, he was desperate to blurt out a yes, but all the emotions he was feeling blocked it.
George blinked and helplessly stared at you, hoping that was enough of an answer. But he knew it wasn’t when you gave him a harsh glare.
"Yes, please. I do want to know, love." He replied eventually, sounding subtly nervous.
 
You veered off the bed and took a short walk to your dresser. George’s eyes followed your every movement lustfully. 
He heard a compartment opening suddenly, then the shifting through it started.
There was something you were looking for, something that George couldn’t figure out yet.
What could you be up to? You had both played with...props before, but your sly demeanour tonight added a weird feeling twist. 
 
When you came back, dangling upon your hand, in a mocking manner, were two ties George had left in your bedroom. Both different colours, different patterns. He watched the fabrics sway, they almost hypnotising him with their swinging. 
His cheeks started to grow red, embarrassment settled in the pit of his stomach.
It had finally registered in his mind what you were going to do to him.
You wanted to tie him up? Tie him up with his own ties? That was sexy, he thought. He could work with this, yeah, he could - and would. 
It’s not like he’d ever tell you no, even though he'd never been tied up before.
 
He adjusted himself, edging closer to where you were standing as he seemingly surrendered himself to you.
"Please, do whatever it is you want with me." His voice was low, a tantalising plea. 
You couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. Maybe he still felt you were just doing a silly roleplay. Either way it didn't matter, you were going to show him.
"I planned on this by the way, you didn’t have to agree, George."
And though these words sounded cruel, George knew you’d never hurt him. At least, not in a way he wouldn’t like, that is.
 
You slowly dropped the ties on the bed, inching closer to him before you completely mounted him in the perfect cowgirl position.
His body settled snug against the mattress, you adjusted the pillows for him so he could feel comfortable.
Your hands rested on his shoulders until you decided it would be best to unbutton his shirt now. 
George’s back arched ever so slightly to encourage you to further your exploration. You slipped his shirt off of him, now he was half naked. He groaned quietly, wanting you to move against him so bad.
You rested your hand on his thighs. He could feel your nails through the thin material of his trousers. His jaw clenched, trying to obey.
"Touch me." He groaned, feeling his cock warm against your thigh. 
Your head tilted, a look of mock sympathy filled his view. Did he say the wrong words again? Yeah, he probably did.
"I didn’t mean t' boss you around, 'm sorry, love."
Instead of a nasty glare, you gave him a smile and light pat against his thigh. "Good, boy."
Good boy, you had said.
Those two words quickly settled into George's mind. 
He was your good boy? 
With your pleased attitude, George smiled. He did something right and that did make him feel good, rewarded. 
You stopped sitting on him so you could fully undress him. You saw the imprint of his cock stiff against his trousers when you got off of him. 
You settled on your knees. Both of your hands found the waistband of his trousers and his boxers. He took a shallow breath in because your wrist stroked against it, it was growing against his own thigh, pulsing, eager to be left free. 
You tugged down at a pace that was killing him. It was barely going past his pubic hair. He groaned in frustration, luckily you didn't take it as that. But he was growing uncomfortable, moving his head as he let out low noises. He wouldn’t whine, that was his only rule to himself. 
"Tut tut, Someone's impatient." You chided, stopping the undressing altogether.
He was caught off guard by your sudden halt. 
"Sorry...please continue, love..." He urged earnestly, wanting nothing more than to please you. 
George wasn't even tied up yet but it bloody felt like he was - he was tied up by your words, your actions. 
You smiled at his submissiveness. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice soft and tender as you resumed your task, still slowly tugging his bottom half down. 
You resumed your task, your fingers pulling m down with just the right amount of resistance.
George's waistband finally slipped past his hips. His cock was fully erect and aching, it slapped against his stomach. You both let out a small sigh of relief, the moment of impatient finally gave way. 
He wanted you to do something about his erection, but he knew it wasn't going to come easy. 
You smell his fear, sense his impatience and feel his need for release. You take your time and relish in the power you hold over him. You put your hands on his thighs and leaned your mouth close to his cock. Your breath ghosted over the tip and your tongue almost licked it. George's heart raced. He wanted to hold the back of your head, like he normally did when you suck him off. But he knows that he has to wait for you to make a move.
George felt a surge of pleasure shoot through him as you leaned in closer, your tongue darted out to tease him with playful licks, only on his tip. Each flick of your tongue sent sparks of electricity coursing through his veins, his breath caught in his throat as he struggled to contain the overwhelming wave of desire that threatened to consume him. He felt himself leaking precum, you take him into your mouth, sucking gently on the tip.
As George felt the exquisite torture of your touch come to an abrupt halt, he found himself painfully hard, his desire reached a fever pitch as he longed to be inside of you. 
 
You moved to restrain him, surprising him with your swift and decisive action. You straddled his stomach, your eyes locked on his, he couldn't help but smile up at you, his excitement now palpable. 
 
With deft fingers, you bind his wrists to the bed frame, securing him in place. And as you looked down at him, a playful glint in your eye, he knew what he was in for.
"Are you ready?" you whispered. 
George nodded eagerly. 
 
As you moved down from straddling his stomach, George watched with bated breath, as you position yourself above his hard cock. 
And yet, despite the overwhelming intensity of the moment, you still wore your underwear, the fabric adding an extra layer of friction that pushed George to the edge of sanity. He felt his wrists straining against the confines of his ties. 
You unclasped your bra, revealing your bare chest to him. Finally, he thought, when he took in the sight before him. Though a pang of disappointment washed over him when he realised he couldn't squeeze them as he normally would. You could sense his frustration, and it made you laugh inside. 
 
You slipped your panties to the side, allowing him access. He watched you with hungry eyes when you did so, revealing the glistening warmth between your thighs.
Before you put him inside, you grabbed his stiffness, stroking him quickly and gripping him firmly. 
With one hand rested lightly on his chest to steady yourself, you reached down with the other, your fingers wrapped around his hardness as you guided him to your cunt. George's breath caught in his throat as his tip first felt the slick heat of you enveloping him. 
George felt just the tip of himself entering you, he was overcome with a rush of sensation unlike anything he's ever experienced before. It's a slow, torturous tease as you guide him inside, inch by agonising inch. 
With each slow descent, George could feel the exquisite tightness of you enveloping him, drawing him in deeper with each tantalising stroke. It's a sweet torture, the sensation of being half-buried inside you driving him to the brink of madness as he longed for more, for deeper penetration.
But you continue to move with a slowness, your pace unhurried as you take him in halfway, then back out again. George felt himself losing control, his breath came in short, ragged gasps as he strained against his restraints, desperate for release.
And yet, despite the frustration and longing that coursed through him, George knew that he wouldn't have it any other way.
 
As George laid there taking it, he could barely find the words to express what he needed. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his body trembled as he watched you move above him, your movements slow and deliberate, driving him to the brink of madness.
"Please," he managed to gasp out, his voice barely a whisper as he struggles to form the words.
He can feel the desperation clawing at him, the need for more, for deeper penetration, threatening to consume him whole.
But you continued your slow, teasing movements, your pace unhurried as you drew out the anticipation, revelling in the power you hele over him. With each downward stroke, you felt yourself growing wetter around him. 
 
"What do you want?" you said, holding back a moan. "Get it out, George."
"Deeper," he gasped, as he arched his hips, seeking more. 
"What do you say, George?" 
You wanted a please. You needed a please. 
"What?" He questioned, too consumed by near climax to understand what you wanted from him just then.
You tutted and shook your head subtly, still continuing your pace. "Say, please, George."
"Please, Y/N." George felt your wetness coating him, he revelled in the sensation of being used by you, unable to control anything without his hands.
 
You placed both of your hands on George's chest, to steady yourself riding. With your newfound control, you began to take him in deeper, your movements deliberate and precise as you took him in from his tip to his balls.
George's senses became overwhelmed by the feel of being fully engulfed by your hole, the tightness of your warmth surrounded him in a cocoon of pleasure. It's a heady rush- the feeling of completely filling you after being teased, paired with the fact that his hands are tied to the bed. 
 
You noticed a change in his usual reactions. Instead of the groans and moans you're accustomed to, he's whimpering, the sound so unlike him that it catches you off guard. It's a raw, primal sound, one that sends a shiver down your spine as you realise just how deeply he's being affected. 
Determined to push him even further, you started moving up and down rougher, more aggressive, your pace quickening as you take him in with force. The room filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the rhythmic clapping noises echoed off the walls. 
With each rough movement, George's whimpering grew louder, his cries of pleasure mingled with your own. You both surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation. 
 
As you both approach your climaxes, George felt the tension building within him. He knew that his wrists would be marked red after, but in the heat of the moment, he wasn't bothered. All he could think about was cumming.
He found himself calling out your name, his voice a hoarse whisper as he lost himself in the pleasure of the moment. He was in a trance, barely able to keep his eyes open. 
 
"Are you close?" You breathed out.
George could only nod hastily, his breath came in short, as he felt himself teetering on the edge of release.
And before he knew it, he spilled himself inside of you, his body trembled with the force of his climax.
He felt you tightening around him, your own climax washed over you.
In that moment, as you both reached the peak of pleasure together, you're lost in a dizzying whirlwind. 
 
You slowed down and eventually stopped riding him. You collapsed beside him in a heap of spent pleasure.
George couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself. Normally, he would reach out to wrap his arms around you, to pull you close and revel in the afterglow of your sex. But with his hands tied, he was unable to do so, and the realisation brought a wry smile to his lips.
 
With a chuckle, George turned his head to look at you. "Are you going to untie me so we can hug?" he asked. 
You met his gaze with a smirk, shaking your head in mock seriousness. "No, you're stuck like this forever."
70's George is the best George.
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Virgin Will Graham
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Will hadn’t had sex yet despite being in his 30’s. He felt like it was embarrassing but Y/N found it hot and wanted to be the one to take it. Will knew what sex was and what to do just never did and Y/N was going to make sure that she was the one that took his virginity. 
Hannibal looked at the woman with a straight face as she told him what she wanted most in life. “I want to fuck Will Graham.” She said to him. Not that he disagreed with her but felt like there was more in life to want than some man’s virginity. But she felt like that was her life goal. 
Will had an attraction towards Y/N. He thought she was very beautiful and sweet. Sure he could tell that she was flirting with him but didn’t know how to flirt back. He didn’t wanna scare her off. He’d watch her clench her thighs together as they talked. 
“Your face is so pretty.” She said to him as her fingers traced his face. He watched her as her fingers dragged along his face. He loved the feeling of her soft fingers. “So pretty, I wanna sit on it.” 
Anyone would tell him that he was stupid for not fucking her right then and there. But he was nervous. Nervous that he wouldn’t be able to please her like she deserved. She definitely had experience and had enough to have the confidence to say the dirtiest things to him.
When they had their first kiss, she initiated it. He had kissed before but this way was so different. Their lips moved together for longer than he ever had before. She ended up climbing into his lap. He was hard, oh so hard. And she could feel it. Thinking things would be going further she started kissing and sucking on his neck. Her soft lips felt amazing as they abused his neck. His breathing was harder and her hands moved up and down his torso, avoiding his crotch on purpose. He gasped out a loud moan and she smirked against his neck, thinking that he was just a loud guy. Her hand made it to his covered dick and she gasped. She pulled away from his neck and saw that he had came just from her kissing his neck. His face was red and he apologized. She cupped his face and giggled. “It’s okay baby boy, no need to. Just imagine how good it would feel if you were inside of me.” She whispered against his lips. 
This happened multiple times. He would cum in his pants before she could properly touch him. He would instantly apologize and she would tell him that he shouldn’t be sorry and that it was normal. He still felt like he was ruining the fun. 
One time that he came in his pants, he was eating her out. His nose was buried in her pussy as he tasted her sweet juices. Her hips were fucking his face as she moaned loudly for him. He started humping the mattress, not realizing it. He ended up moaning into her pussy making them both cum. He stood up and there was a wet spot on his jeans. She smirked at that and was happy they both got pleasure in some way. 
“Ok we aren’t going to kiss or do anything before your dick is in my mouth.” She told him and he obviously was okay with that. Her mouth being wrapped around his dick was making it hard for him not to cum right away. He wanted to enjoy the feeling. Which he got to for 2 minutes before cumming down her throat with a groan of her name. She swallowed everything and smirked at him. 
The next time they hooked up, they actually had sex. He was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to please her right. But when she slid down onto his hard cock, making both of them moan out, that thought went away. Her wet pussy drenching him and making it easy for her to take him. He held her hips and looked up at her with blissed out eyes as she rode him. Moans and whimpers leaving his mouth at the amazing feeling that he’s never felt before. She looked down at him in awe and moaned with him. She loved the feeling of him inside of her and wanted nothing more than to take him rough and deep. But with it being his first time she wanted to be careful as if she would break him. She was in fact breaking him. But in the best way possible. 
When they came, it was together. He was being louder than her but that was excepted, given the fact that he’s never done this before. This whole experience was foreign to him. He came so much and she gasped feeling it inside of her and that triggered her release. The feeling of her making his dick more wet than it was made him gasp. This whole experience was amazing for him. 
“Did it feel good?” She asked him as she laid on his chest. He was rubbing her back and he let out a yes and chuckled. She smiled up at him “Good. I’m glad.” She said. This definitely wouldn’t be the last time they did that. 
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adding to my last ask, the rest of the album is so similar to the Batfam
Loves like Ghosts - Batcat or BruTalia
Until the Night Turns - Dick (the vibes esp)
Dead Man’s Hand - Jason
-> pretty obvious why 💀. I see it as Jason talking abt his old self with the “tired of a life that never felt like his” line
Hurricane (Johnnie’s theme) - Dick, Jason, and Steph(Cass)
-> I mostly saw it as Stephcass but there were definitely lyrics that applied to Dick (thrill) and Jason (dying lol)
La Bella Fleur Sauvage - DickBabs
The World Ender - Steph (with the romantic lines being shaded between Cass and Gotham) or Jason (with the romantic lines being completely abour Gotham)
-> I feel like it fits Jason better bc it’s literlaky abour being back from the grave but alas
Meet Me in the Woods - Tim(Bern)
The Yawning Grave - ALFRED AND BRUCE ALFRESH AND BRUCE. This is so important to me omg
Cursed - where “she” is Gotham and the speaker is any of the Batfam (sans Cass I think)
Way out There - Damian (“I’m just wearing old bones from those who came first”) (“you” being Dick) or StephCass from Cass’s pov
The Night We Met - the BatSiblings (sans Duke bc he wasn’t adopted yet) during Bruce’s death
There weren’t any I could connect to Duke specifically but yeah 😞
Loves Like Ghost definitely gives of Talia to Bruce vibes. The lyrics of "what ain't living can never really die. You don't want me baby please don't lie. Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why." "And if I can't have you then no one ever will." "Baby in my eyes you do no wrong. I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes. So go on baby hurt me tonight."
Until the Night Turns is a cool song. Perhaps you would elaborate more on why you think it fits Dick? The vibes are pretty on, but jot too sure about the lyrics.
Dead Man's Hand does fit Jason. "Sure as hell he was dead as they come and he was already starting to smell. Just a kid with his hair slicked back and a knife tucked into his belt. Was he unforgiven or just tired of living a life that never felt like his?" "I know I'm dead but I don't wanna lie in a grave out here where the coyote's cry. I stared right into the endless void and I ain't going back if I got any choice. I know how to live, I don't know how to die and there ain't no thrills in the afterlife."
Hurricane. I do think that all of the batkids are adrenaline junkies but I do see how the lyrics fit those ones especially.
La Bella Fleur Savage - Google says Fleur means both flower and resilience. I can see how that fits Babs and how the song resembles her love with Dick.
The World Ender - I love this song for Steph. She deserves to get her revenge. She did kind of die with Black Mask, but she didn't really do a revenge thing like Jason. On the other hand she "won't ever feel the embrace of the grave" because she revived before being buried.
Meet Me in the Woods - I see how this is TimBern especially because Bernard isn't in the vigilante business (so he won't really understand what Tim's been through).
The Yawning Grave - Alfred warning Bruce not to become Batman, of its dangers, of the likelihood of him dying, fits so well. He told him when he was a kid, but Bruce still went down with this path
Cursed - I agree that Cass isn't tied to Gotham like the others. If "she" was Gotham, that does fit the others. I raise you, though. What if "she" was their mission or vigilantism? That then fits all of them.
Way out There - Oof. That definitely fits Damian and I love that analysis of him.
The Night We Met - I agree, however, there's a tik tok that has an animation of this song. It absolutely kills my soul every time I see it. It has Bruce singing this about Jason: "I had all," Jason as Robin, "and then most of you," Jason dying, "some and," Jason's grave, "now none of you," Jason as Red Hood. "Take me back to the night we met." The tire jacking night.
We definitely need some Duke songs out there. If anyone has any songs that fit Duke, feel free to comment or reblog with them!!!!
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the apple pie life for me (and you) // Dean Winchester x Castiel (SPN)
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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Inspiration: Cough Syrup - Glee Cast (Cover)
Summary: One minute, Castiel is confessing his love as he sacrifices himself, so Dean can live. The next, Dean is dead, and Castiel's avoiding him in Heaven. Or maybe Dean's avoiding him. Dean has probably never been more confused in his life, feelings for his best friend and all.
TWs: kinda angst, mentioned vomit, very slightly alluded child abuse (john winchester), a little bit of yelling, sort of suicidal thoughts (like yeah, but he's already dead), cursing, crying, low self-worth, mention of self-sacrifice, Dean is bad at feelings (and so is Cas), avoidance, mention of death, and confrontation.
[[A/N: This is a finale fix-it, but with the finale still canon, if you will. Except Dean doesn't like just drive until Sam dies. This actually ripped out my soul and shoved it back in. I felt possessed writing this. Also, let Dean say fuck. Anyway. This shit will fuck you up, but it's a happy ending !!! Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]
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Dean doesn't think he wanted to die.
But he's not really sure. And he kinda feels like that's something you should be sure about.
As he cruises along in Baby with no place to go, but also somehow having somewhere in mind, he just keeps thinking about it.
Lots of things, really. Chuck, everyone disappearing, Jack, Sammy back on Earth (he thinks he's always gonna worry about him), and... and Cas.
See that's... that's where his mind hitches.
Because otherwise, after Jack took over, Dean thought things were going pretty good. Great, even. Him and Sammy doing the same thing it all started with. (Sans the Dad thing, probably for the best, but still-)
But, the more he thinks about it now, where there is nothing but the road, Baby, and him... That life, that wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't living how he wanted to. Sure, he wanted Sammy in it, but to say he still wanted to be a hunter?
When he thought about it, it kinda felt like he was still playing the role that Chuck had carved out for him. He knows he had free will then, he knows Chuck wasn't in charge, but he just... That role was comfortable, familiar, and he thinks maybe... both him and Sam just fell right back into it.
And then, there's the just him and Sam thing. It started like that, yeah, and don't get him wrong, he loves Sammy. (It's probably in his bones now, it's so ingrained in his friggin' DNA.) But it wasn't just him and Sammy, not anymore.
So, how can everything be 'goin' good' when you're missing pieces, people?
Like Jody and the girls, Garth and his family, Eileen, Jack and... and Cas.
So, even though, Jack fixed it all, it was still kinda like him and Sam were the only ones on the planet. Alone.
He wasn't happy with what he was doing, he was missing people like hell, and his brain was in near-constant turmoil because... because his best friend was dead. And it wasn't like he tried to stop it, live like how Castiel wanted him to. What he died for.
But he just couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to live happily when Cas was dead? Because of him, of all things.
So, maybe... maybe he did want to die.
Dean doesn't think it's only the Cas... thing, he thinks it's a lot of things (probably). But, he thinks him not being there is really what makes it all so wrong.
He thinks back to when Cas was dead before, when... when all he needed was a "damn win" and he got him back. Everything was so much better, even though shit hadn't been done about Chuck or any of their other problems. He had a damn win.
He's just starting to think that maybe he didn't need a win, maybe he needed Cas.
And maybe that's why the life he lived wasn't what he wanted. Maybe that's why it was so easy to die when he'd been fighting all his life to live freely. Escape whatever goddamn prophecies plagued his life, and live how he wanted to.
Team Free Will, he remarked somewhere in his head.
And yet, the only one living freely was Cas. Sam and Dean, written like damn books, apparently, but Cas?
Chuck said he never followed him, said that he had a "crack in his chassis" (whatever the hell that meant). And he'd even... the turning point for him was Dean. Goddamn "gripping him tight and raising him from perdition".
That was when he'd veered off the path Chuck had built for him, and out of the damn countless universes, this... his Cas was the only one who broke the cycle.
And then, he'd think back to the moment he died for the... for the last time. What he said, and how he said it, and even when Dean tried to twist it to something that wasn't so goddamn scary. He couldn't. Because he had said it clear as day.
And just telling him gave him 'true happiness' (like a damn fairytale). He didn't expect a response, or anything, just telling him. Dean couldn't wrap his head around it at all. Hadn't since the day he said it.
Every time he thought about both of them, Cas's... confession and Chuck's words, he connected the dots. He'd never let himself think about it, but now he had all the time in the world to. It's all he could do.
So, he let himself think it, just this once.
Cas... loving him, that wasn't planned. That was all Cas. This Cas. His Cas.
He maybe even loved him so much that it broke god's will.
How was Dean supposed to handle that? Digest that? When seconds later, Cas was dead. Even now, he couldn't-
There was a house.
To his left, it had been miles of just meadows and fields, and now... now there was a house. A white house, that you sort of just pictured in your head when you imagined a 'family home'. It looked kind of oddly like his house when he was a kid, but also not at all.
It had a white picket fence and a big yard. It had all the works.
The apple pie life, his mind chimed.
Dean paused a moment, wondering if this was someone else's. His eyes peered around it, focusing on the long, empty driveway (the kind that was half dirt and half rocks). And he came up decidedly empty.
He took a breath, and mumbled low (maybe to make sure he could still talk), "'S worth a shot."
Flinching a little at Baby bumping along the rocks, Dean slowly crept up to the house. Eyeing it the whole time, as if it would change when he looked away. Or maybe like it wouldn't feel right halfway up the driveway.
But, he felt the same all the way through.
Dean pursed his lips, staring at the white shingles and the big porch with two rocking chairs -one on either side.
It was two stories, but still small. And it wasn't perfect either, not like out of one of those friggin' house magazines where everything seemed so clean, it was almost scary. There were scuffs and marks, and the grass grew too high right next to the steps.
He took a breath, and stepped out of Baby, throwing the keys around his fingers on instinct. The jingle was the only noise that filled the air then.
It was crazy how much the air smelt the same, felt the same. He could see the wind shift the blades of grass and the branches of the trees, it felt so much like... home.
Even though Dean had never seen this house before in his life, it felt like home.
That... That feeling was new.
He let his eyes surf over the land a second, before catching on a barn -rundown and hidden behind the house. And even though it was, Dean traced the driveway all the way back to it.
Letting himself take one last look at the house, he slowly trailed back to the barn. Feet crushing over rocks and twigs, he truly had never felt more alive. Ironically.
It wasn't the long stretch of road, the slick seats of Baby, or the low hum of the engine. It was the sound of birds, the smell of flowers, and the fresh air. Dean nearly almost bent down to get dirt on his hands just to feel it again, instead of the smooth steering wheel he knew so well.
He didn't though, and instead, approached the barn. Somewhere in his head, it rang familiar. He wasn't sure why or how, but as he walked through the door it just... he knew it.
And as his footsteps echoed through the air, it hit him.
Dean spun around on his feet and looked toward the door, almost on instinct.
He did know this barn. It was where he... where he first met Cas. He remembers it more with all the sigil and black paint everywhere, but looking back at the door, at the lights-
He laughed a little, the dramatic son of a bitch.
Dean cut himself short, watching the doors. Maybe he was expecting something, someone, but he'd never say it out loud. He couldn't, not now.
Cas had been right there.
And there was a part of him that wished he still was.
He took a deep breath through his nose, wondering what exactly he was going to do with it. Or if he was just gonna keep it empty. Because...
He had the spare thought to make it into a kinda garage, build some shelves maybe, fill the walls with parts. He could pull Baby in, shelter her from the rain. If it did rain here. Somehow Dean hoped so. He wanted stuff like rain, snow, the crunching leaves, and the smush of mud under his shoe.
It was weird to say he wanted to feel human in Heaven, but he did.
Because when had he ever felt human? Really?
He wanted that. He wanted a lot of things now that could never have imagined back then. Or didn't think to, he guessed.
Patting one of the wooden walls, Dean made his exit.
His eyes lingered on the backyard for a moment, where the expanse of grass seemed larger, and in the corner, there seemed to be a fenced-off patch of dirt. Maybe for a garden.
He had never thought about having a garden, but he wasn't really against it either.
He looked at for a second, before thinking to himself. Cas would probably like that.
He had that bee thing, and bees like flowers, right? So, maybe he'd offer it to him. Let him have the space. It would be nice having him there, a little piece of him around him every day.
Because he knew that he was tinkering around somewhere, supposedly with Jack. And maybe... maybe it would be nice for him to have a break, a garden.
Dean bit his lip, tapping his foot a moment.
Was that what it was? Was that why you wanted him here, Winchester? Really?
He kept moving forward, steady steps back to the front of the house. For once in his life, there was no rush. He could take his time.
By the time he swung around to the porch, the wind had died down and left only the shining sun in its wake. It felt just like when the sun touched his skin on Earth, maybe even a little better. He liked it the same reason he liked everything else, just being human.
Dean moved up the steps, stairs creaking with every move and his hand drifting across the railing. It was imperfect with bumps and peeling paint, and he had a thought that maybe he could fix it one day. Maybe that's why the house is the way it is, so he could fix it.
Like maybe it had been built like that because he'd always wanted to do it. Fix up a house. Did Cas know that?
His eyes roamed over to the second rocking chair thoughtfully. He kind of had an idea of who he wanted there.
He let his fingers drift over the chair a moment, like maybe if he thought hard enough, he'd be there. Here.
Dean didn't think that he could talk to him, or maybe that he would be comfortable doing so. But that didn't mean he didn't want to friggin' see him, talk to him.
And even though it was scary as hell, he would talk about it if Cas wanted to. He just thinks that the natural progression is his response, and Dean... Dean wasn't sure he had one. Or maybe he had one, but he wasn't sure he could say it.
He was a damn coward.
Pulling open the door, Dean's eyes slunk along the walls. The first thing he saw was a hallway, softly colored walls, and frames along it. Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed behind him (on instinct) and drew his attention to the pictures.
A lot of them, he recognized.
Old pictures of him and Sammy, pictures of his Mom and Dad. But some, he hadn't.
His fingers trailed over a frame. It was him and Cas laughing in the bunker, he'd had no idea it was taken at all. It must've been Sam, but he'd never found the need to show him, apparently.
He had that sort of crinkly smile that he'd get sometimes, and Dean was saying something but he was laughing halfway through it. And Cas was just looking at him like he always did.
Ever since Cas's goodbye, he'd been rethinking everything he knew. Everything.
From the first time he saw him to the last, he'd looked through everything -trying to find it. Trying to see how he'd missed it for so long. And when he did, it was right damn in front of him.
That was probably what he hated this most, that he'd never seen it. Dean had never even thought of the possibility, only once or twice when some dick would make an offhand remark. (Which, when he looked back on it, happened a lot.)
And it has seemed just so far away. Impossible.
Maybe that wasn't because he hadn't... but because he was a broken human (past damn repair) and he was an angel of the Lord.
How could he love me?
And then, there was all that he said. That he believed Dean was so much better than he did. At his very core was love of all things.
"The one thing I want, I know I can't have."
Knows he can't have, it kept ringing through his head. As he wandered up the stairs, maybe even before that, when he was driving, and maybe even before that when it was just him and Sammy ganking bitches.
He didn't tell Sam, and maybe that was the biggest thing. Maybe he felt some guilt, or maybe... maybe he just wanted to keep it to himself. He wasn't sure.
Dean wasn't sure about any goddamn thing at this point.
He took a breath and peeked into the rooms. He didn't want to go fully in them, he wasn't sure why. But one of them, he recognized to be a guest bedroom. It was empty, except for a bed and a dresser -impersonal.
Maybe for Sammy someday.
There was a bathroom on the other wall, he thinks he has two. One downstairs and one up. (Maybe even three, he hasn't looked at his master bedroom yet.) He paused a moment, maybe imagining things on the sink. Imagining a rug he buys one day (do they even buy things? Or does he just think it into existence?). It was domestic, and Dean couldn't tell if he liked it or not.
He trailed down the stairs again, and just to his right, he saw another bathroom -right by the front door. It was empty again, except for the essentials. Toilet, shower, and sink. He didn't waste anymore time.
Across from it was, he guessed, the living room. And he kinda expected the same, just the essentials, maybe some fuzzy throw pillows that Dean would inevitably throw out. Maybe a rug he'd say he didn't like, but he'd keep it anyway.
But it wasn't.
Instead, Dean found something a lot more personal.
It was a big TV with shelves surrounding it filled with movies. And the more he looked at it, the more at it -they were his favorites. And on the wall under the window, there was a cassette player (no cassettes, but they were probably out in Baby) and to its left a mini fridge. Dean chanced a look in it and found his favorite type of beer. And under it, on one of the shelves was an unused record player. Beside both of them, there was one of those containers for vinyls (Dean had friggin' clue what it was called), and it was filled. He didn't have to look to know it was all his favorites.
There were bean bags piled in the corner like he'd have too many visitors for the couch. Or maybe they'd expect him to. Cas would expect him to.
Dean felt like his breath was shot out of his chest. A little like he couldn't friggin' breath.
His Dean-cave.
It was a damn upgrade, yeah, not with concrete floors and stuffy walls. But in essence the very same. Probably the perfect version of it in his head.
God, had Cas remembered that?
Remembered all of it? His favorite fucking songs, favorite movies, favorite shows- Had Cas remembered everything?
It made him want to throw up, or maybe like his heart was squeezed so tight in his chest that he felt like he might die. Again, he guessed.
Wouldn't be the first time.
Dean stared at the room, hand coming to rest on the back of the couch. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his chest, it felt like his stomach was waves in the damn ocean.
He didn't know whether to cry or throw his guts up. It felt just like after Cas was taken by the Empty.
Like his world was shifting and crumbling all at once.
Dean stepped back a few steps and came up against the wall. His eyes burned.
He ran a hand through his hair, a little frantically, and tried to school the sob that climbed up his throat.
He's alive, he repeated to himself, Cas is fucking alive.
Some other voice chimed back, little and weak, But he's not here, is he?
He took in a deep breath, shaky, and leaned his head back up against the wall. Looking up at the ceiling, Dean thought maybe he felt tears roll down his cheeks.
He wanted to pray, bring him here. But what the hell would he even say?
"Hey buddy, confessing your love and fucking dying after wasn't very fun for me."
"What you did wasn't goddamn fair."
"I know you love me, but I don't understand it. I don't get it."
"How can you love me?"
"I think maybe I love you too."
His breath hitched in his chest.
He clenched his fist onto the wall, pounding it a few times. He heard the frames rattle in their places and felt the wood boards behind it under his hand.
Dean took a deep breath in and wiped at his eyes. Sniffling, he walked forward into the kitchen. Keep moving.
It was the cozy kind of kitchen, not the minimalist crap, with wooden cupboards and imperfect counters. The refrigerator had a few pictures stuck to it, held up by those damn alphabet magnets.
He just somehow knew that was Cas's idea.
And he laughed a little at it, taking one of them in his hands and rubbing his thumb over the shitty plastic.
His eyes smoothed over the space again, and he found something actually on the counter. He wasn't sure how he missed it the first time, but now, there was a slice of apple pie there. Probably the most picturesque one he'd ever seen. Heaven pie.
"Goddamn Heaven pie," he muttered, but he was smiling.
Before he could take a bite, of what he suspected might be the best pie in his life, he heard something.
A dog bark.
Dean nearly ran to the front door, leaving the pie stranded on the counter. Swinging the door open, he nearly stalled in place.
Miracle was there, yeah, and ran up to him a little like he was the only person in the world. It made his heart ache. But there was someone else.
"I've got a delivery," Charlie, his Charlie, smiled -grinned even.
"Charlie," he spoke, a little like it took everything in his chest to. She only smiled brighter.
Dean thought maybe he was crying, and he grabbed her in a hug. One that he thought may have been a little too tight but she didn't complain. She didn't say a word.
He put his chin on top of her head (just like he used to) and felt her hair (still short) under it. He used to do it to remember she was there, it felt like he was missing a fucking limb when he couldn't anymore. He never thought about the fact that maybe he could again one day.
It felt like everything in him was relieved, as if the tension had melted away. Somehow, someway, Charlie was exactly what he needed right now.
God, he hadn't even thought about her.
Well, he had. A lot. He thought about everybody he'd ever lost, that shit weights on your conscience. (Especially her.) But he'd never thought of her being up here, that he could see her again. Give her a goddamn hug-
He sniffled a little and dropped his mouth to kiss her on the forehead. She hugged him back just as tight, and he thought he might’ve heard her sniffle too.
Dean spoke before he could stop it, "I'm sorry."
"Dean, no," she pulled back, but didn't let go of his arms, "-you weren't- That wasn't your fault, you know that."
He was still crying, and maybe his voice was cracking, "I'm still sorry."
Charlie rubbed her hands down his arms for a minute, before changing the topic, "'Heard you took down God."
Dean laughed a little, wiping at his eyes, "Damn straight I did. Me, Sammy, and Jack."
"Would've loved to know him," she smiled -big and bright, "-but he's too busy for me now."
"Probably too busy to see me too," he offered, sniffling, "-if that helps you."
She shrugged, a little knowingly, "I think he'd make time if you asked."
He bit his lip a moment, thoughtfully, "Ya wanna come in?"
"Was waiting for that," she laughed, walking in -her eyes dipping over the walls, before waltzing into the Dean-cave, "-Look at your digs, Winchester! Not bad."
"It fit me?" He asked.
She turned to him then, grinning, "To a T."
He ran his tongue along his teeth, something heavy in his throat, "You know who made it?"
"I do," Charlie passively remarked, as Miracle ran up and jumped on the couch, "-We saw the house pop up a bit ago, not long, and we saw them out here, building it."
"Cas, yeah?" He asked like he didn't already know.
"Yup," she popped the 'p', running up to his shelves and seemingly skimming the titles, "-that and uh... Jack. But, mostly Cas."
She muttered something about 'shit, you have that one?', but Dean's mind was elsewhere.
"Do you," he started asking, swallowing kind of awkwardly, "-Do you see things on Earth? Like um... events, or conversations?"
"Only when we want to," she answered, still busy on the shelves (currently she was on her tippy-toes looking at the top one), "-I've been watching a few conventions over the years. Sometimes I peek in on you, or Sam, or Cas, for that matter. But I'm pretty content here."
Dean fell silent, fidgeting with his hands.
She turned to him, quirking a brow, "Why? Do you want to check in on Sam? It's pretty easy, actually-"
"Before," he started, and Charlie's lips snapped shut, "-Before the whole, uh, Chuck fight and Jack becoming... well, God. Cas died again."
"Shit," she spoke, "-how did he die?"
"Billie, ya know, Death, uh," he cleared as throat, and Charlie's eyes were on him (intently watching), "-she was after us. Me and Cas, and he... he sacrificed himself."
"Damn," she let out, "-have you seen him since Jack-"
"He didn't really... die," Dean kept going, maybe like he couldn't stop (he wanted to tell someone), "-There's this place where, uh, demons and angels go when they 'die'. From what I've heard, it's kinda like a void, an eternal sleep kinda deal."
Charlie pursed her lips a moment, maybe trying to decide if she should speak, "Yeah, I've heard rumors. Never been there of course, but um, yeah."
Dean bit his lip, and took a deep breath in.
"Dean," Charlie slowly stepped toward him, "-are you okay? Do you need to... sit down?"
"He made a deal," he continued, and maybe he wasn't looking at her but he really couldn't, "-Uh, the Empty, or the eternal sleep thing, um... would take him when he was the damn happiest he's ever been."
"And," she paused, laughing a little, "-how was he the happiest he's ever been when you were running from Death?"
Dean didn't say a word, and Charlie promptly cut her laughter short. The silence echoed a moment, and she stepped closer to him again (this was uncharted territory).
"Dean?"
He swallowed, his voice was a little scratchy now and his eyes burned, "He... He started this speech about- about me, and how good I was. That I wasn't just anger or... or hate like I thought. I was love, I raised Sammy for... for love, and do what I do, like stop the goddamn apocalypse, for love. That I was... the most selfless person he'd ever known-"
Charlie stayed quiet.
"-And he's lived millenniums," Dean laughed a little and it was wet (and maybe he was crying), "-I mean, how can that... how can that be true?"
"Dean," she leveled in a steady voice.
"And he just kept going," he laughed again, and he wiped at his eyes, "-and I couldn't say a goddamn word."
"Dean."
"And after all that," he felt a sob crawl up his throat, it shattered through his chest, "-after all that he told me he loved me. And just saying it, fucking telling me- That made him the happiest he's ever been."
Charlie's eyes were shiny, and she was looking at him a little like he would shatter at any second. But she didn't say a word.
"He said," he swallowed, his breaths shaky, "-He said that the one thing he wanted he couldn't have but I..."
He let himself say it, this once.
"Charlie, I-" he looked at her then, and she was frowning, her eyes were teary, "-I think he can have it. I think he-"
Dean took a breath, it shook through his lungs and laughed again -wiping at his eyes (like he wouldn't be crying if they didn't fall).
"-I think he's always damn had it."
There was silence then, and Dean didn't feel like he had anything else to say. Or maybe that he could say anything else. It felt like his soul had been ripped out of his chest-
Charlie seemed to take a minute to make sure, tediously stepping forward.
But when she realized he was, she pulled him into a hug again. This time though, she stood on her tippy-toes and pulled his head to her shoulder. Her hand cradling the back of his head, Dean followed her lead.
He took a breath in, that was just so Charlie, his Charlie, and it made his eyes fog up again.
She held him there a while, even though it couldn't have been comfortable. He knew that, but he couldn't be the one to pull away. Halfway because it was so long since he'd seen her, and halfway because he couldn't remember the last time he was held like this. Cared for like this.
"Did you," she started, slow and careful (gentle), "-Have you told anyone about this?"
"No, I... I died with it," he breathed out, "-I just... I couldn't tell Sammy-"
"Dean, hey," Charlie shooshed him, before joking lightly, "-that's okay. It just... It seemed like it was a little pent up."
Dean laughed a little, and she seemed to be happy about that.
"It was," he echoed out in the silence, "-I didn't... I didn't tell anyone."
"Well," she hummed, pushing her chin onto his shoulder, "-thank you for telling me."
Something in his chest softened.
"I think that's..." she spoke, gently, "-I think that's big for you. All of this is... is big for you."
There was a beat.
"You're doing your best, Dean," she soothed, squeezing him a little tighter, "-And maybe you didn't tell Sam, or tell Cas, but you did what you could. Everyone has their limits."
He let out a breath, less shaky this time, and dug himself further into her shoulder.
"That's nothing-" her hand rubbed against his back, "-That's nothing to be ashamed of."
He let the words sink into his skin.
"And quite frankly," Charlie quipped, "-your limit is way past mine. So, I can't judge."
Dean laughed again, and he could nearly feel her smile.
Thoughtfully keeping himself there for just a little longer, before pulling back. Sniffling and wiping at his eyes, Charlie stayed very close by, just in place for another hug.
"We good?" She questioned, a little playfully but on the same note, very serious.
"Yeah, yeah, we're uh-" he chuckled out, "-we're good."
"Can I..." she paused a moment, "-If you're not comfortable, don't answer it. But, is this your first... guy thing?"
Dean froze a little.
"You don't have to answer," she quickly added, "-at all. No pressure."
It's Charlie.
He ran his hand along his jaw, before rumbling out, "Kinda. I... When I was a kid, I knew, and maybe I even acted on it a little, but Dad..."
Charlie hummed in understanding, "He found out?"
"Yeah, uh," he spoke, suddenly awkward, "-I don't... I've never known how he figured it out. Or maybe he just... assumed, but he... yeah."
It was unspoken, and she seemed to understand.
"God," she asserted, maybe a little incredulously, "-he should really not be here."
Dean laughed a little, but something was heavy in his chest, "I don't know if I'd visit either of them anyway. Even without... this."
Charlie pursed her lips, "And you don't have to. It's your Heaven. If they... If they try to talk to you, let me know. I'll get a crew."
"A crew?"
"There's enough of us," she shrugged, "-He's an old man anyway, I'm sure I could take him."
He laughed a little again, "You'd be surprised."
She looked at him a moment like maybe that spoke louder than anything else he said. She squeezed his shoulder once, but gratefully, didn't say anything.
"And can I clarify something?"
Dean hummed.
"When Castiel..." she didn't say it, "-Did you not have time? Or were you just... scared?"
"A little bit of both," he answered, fingers tapping along the table by the couch, "-He said it, told me goodbye, and... and adios."
"But you wouldn't have told him? If you got the chance?" She asked, genuinely.
"I don't..." he sighed out, "-I don't know. I think, in the moment, I was just overwhelmed by it all. In-between how he talked about me, and how he... I barely processed a word before he was gone."
Charlie just looked at him.
"I sat there for a while before it-" he moved over to Miracle, petting him, "-it, uh, kicked in."
"And you-" she responded, a little slowly, "-you haven't seen him since then?"
"Well, I... I just got here," he explained, picking up Miracle's ear between his fingers, "-and I didn't even know he'd gotten out. Until... Until Bobby told me."
"Huh," she commented, sitting beside Miracle, "-Do you think he'd come? If you asked?"
Dean rolled the thought around in his mind, "I don't know, he kinda wanted me to live a lot longer than I did."
"How did you die?"
"On a hunt," he answered, simply.
"Shit," she muttered, "-What took you out?"
"Piece of rebar," he offered, wandering back around toward the shelf, "-Monster of the week threw me against a wall, right into it."
"That's..."
"Sammy was gonna call an ambulance, but I..." he echoed out, "-I told him no. I think- I think I wanted to die."
Charlie didn't speak for a moment, processing it, "Because of... Cas?"
"Yeah, mostly," Dean admitted, "-I, uh, realized it all when I got here. Drove Baby for a while and just... Just started thinking."
"About everything?"
"Yeah, uh," he hummed out, brushing his hand over Miracle's fur, "-everything. I wasn't happy there. Wasn't living the life I wanted, and I don't think I could have. Not without Cas."
She paused a second, "Do you think you'll be happy here?"
"It's Heaven," he laughed, not really looking at her, "-I kinda have to be, right?"
"Well," she countered, speaking a little carefully, "-Dean, you still don't have Cas."
Dean's hand froze in place.
"If you weren't happy without him then," she continued, thoughtfully, "-how are you going to be happy without him now?"
"He was dead," he spoke -defensively, "-He's alive now. I can... I can live with that."
"Dean," Charlie reiterated, low and gentle, "-will you be happy?"
"I've handled worse," he argued, but something in his chest was twisting.
She looked at him then, eyes steady on his, "But you don't have to."
He swallowed, repeating, "But I can."
She stood up then, coming right in front of him, and Dean nearly shrunk in place.
"Dean, he... he loves you," Charlie spoke, barely a whisper, "-and I think, somewhere in that thick skull of yours, you love him too."
He gnawed at his lip, "What's that gotta do with anything?"
"It's... everything, Dean," she laughed, a little in disbelief, "-It's got to do with everything. You deserve to be happy."
He took a deep breath through his nose.
"Isn't that what Castiel wanted?" she pointed out, "-For you to be happy?"
"Apparently not," he retorted, a little bitterly, "-how could I be happy when he's dead?"
"Maybe-" Charlie paused, cogs turning in her head, "-You said that he had to be the happiest he's ever been right?"
"Yeah," he replied, trying to follow.
"How could he be the happiest he's ever been if he knew he was causing you pain?"
Dean swallowed, his stomach twisting, "You think..."
"Dean, look I could be wrong," she clarified, "-but I don't think he thought you'd care. If... If he was the happiest he's ever been, and he loved you, he would never be able to cause you pain, or think he would, and still get taken."
He was speechless, something climbing up his throat.
"If he thought you weren't going to be happy," she finished like she'd had a major breakthrough, "-he... he couldn't have been taken."
"He..." Dean faltered to a stop, "-You really think he thought I wouldn't care?"
Charlie pursed her lips together, "I don't know how else it could've worked."
Dean felt like his whole body was on fire, like he was burning alive. Cas didn't know he cared? How the hell didn't he know that?
God, he cared so damn much, and he didn't even know?
He tried to think back to every time he'd lost Cas, all the grief. Dean realized he'd never seen that, he didn't see everytime he lost his goddamn mind because he was gone. For all he knew, everything was hunky-fucking-dory. He's just always thought he knew.
God, he didn't know?
She approached him then, holding his arms, "Dean, I know it's scary, believe me, I know-"
He just looked at her, words stuck in his throat. It felt like he could say everything and nothing at all. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.
"But he deserves to know," she finished.
Dean took a second, before saying, "Yeah, yeah, he does."
Charlie smiled at him, patting his arms, "You should talk to him, like... as soon as possible."
"Through what? Prayer?"
"Well, yeah," she laughed a little as if it was obvious.
"How do I know..." he exhaled, "-How do I know he'll come?"
"Dean," she assured, "-he loves you."
"Yeah, but what if he's-" he paused, "-what if he's avoiding me?"
"Dean," she repeated, "-he loves you."
"How does that-"
"That doesn't just stop," she interrupted him, "-It's not like if he gets uncomfortable, he'll just stop loving you. It's bigger than everything, if you ask him to, he'll come."
"But-" he tried.
"I know it," she continued, "-and when have I ever been wrong?"
Dean laughed a little.
"Actually, don't answer that," she laughed, "-Just, just trust me. He built this whole Heaven for you, didn't he?"
He responded, simply, "He did."
"He'll come," she repeated, "-You just have to ask, Winchester."
She'd left not long after that, with one solid hug (he didn't think he'd every stop hugging her, ever) and a promise to "tell me all the deets, including the juicy stuff".
Dean wasn't sure how to handle that.
He didn't do it immediately. He sat down and ate the pie first, which was the friggin' best one he'd ever had (he wondered if it always tasted like that up here). Then, he spent the next few hours going through his collection. He even popped in a cassette from Baby, had a few in-home concerts, and just sat with Miracle for a while (Dean thought that he might've known he wasn't doing something he was supposed to, he had a serious bitch face). And then it was night.
So, he went to bed.
He'll be honest, it happened a few times. Days happened (if that was a thing in Heaven).
It wasn't like he wasn't trying. He did, just every time he tried... He was just a damn coward. Kept saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." And it had very much already been tomorrow. A few of them, actually.
Part of him was kinda waiting to see if he'd just... show up like he used to. But, if he'd confessed his, what he believed to be, unrequited love to his best friend... he'd probably avoid him at all costs too. (He kinda already was.)
Today, though, was different.
Dean woke up, got his coffee, and instead of sitting down at the table and staring out the window (usually watching Miracle run around the yard), he went to the hallway. Couldn't tell you why, if you asked. But he just did.
And he stopped at the same picture, the one of him and Cas laughing. His eyes roamed over the crinkled smile, maybe a little differently now. An ache settled in his chest, like maybe he was missing a limb. Every morning he woke up, something was missing.
And sure, yeah, part of that was Sammy. But the other part...
His eyes smoothed over him again, and he just had the overwhelming urge for him to be there. And the thought ran through his mind again that he didn't know that he mattered. Cas was just living (relatively) with the knowledge that Dean didn't care, as if it was the truth.
With a breath, he decided today was the day.
He had given himself time, gotten dressed, sat out on the front porch (it was raining today, he found it kinda calming), and just readying himself.
Now, he was pacing in the kitchen.
"Cas, buddy," he tried like he was running through lines, "-No. Why would I call him buddy? That defeats the whole goddamn purpose."
He sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers, before trying again.
"Cas," he started, trying to think, "-that day. You knew I- Well, you thought you knew I-"
He dragged his palm down his face, groaning. How the hell was he going to do this?
"Fuck it," he decided, he was never going to get it right, "-let's wing it."
Dean let out a big long breath, shaking his hands as if to ready himself. And he really needed to do so.
He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-
"You can do this, Winchester," he mumbled to himself, "-You killed God, what's a damn love confession?"
Love, love, love, chimed through his head.
His stomach churned, but he stayed focused -eyes squeezed shut. Taking a few deep breaths, he stayed silent for a while. Maybe thinking a little too hard in his head, but at this point, there was no use in fighting it.
He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-
Dean let out a shaky breath, and opened his mouth -words slow and particular, "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me or if you're busy-"
Before he could finish another word, a voice called out from behind him.
"Dean," his voice was measured with a sort of lilt (maybe concern).
"Goddammit, Cas," he jumped, flinching, but turning to the angel on instinct, "-you gotta stop doing that."
He skimmed over him a second like he couldn't believe he was real. But he was, and he was standing right in front of him. Before he could say another word though, Cas started searching over him -quickly.
He lifted his arm (grabbing him by the wrist, Dean's brain froze a little), looking for an injury maybe, "Are you alright?"
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"What? Yeah," he blinked the haze out of his eyes, "-yeah, I'm fine, Cas. I'm in Heaven, what could hurt me?"
He furrowed his eyebrows in the way he always did and seemed to take him in a second. Blue eyes looked him over, maybe trying to tell if he was lying or not. (He probably could, if he was.) The way that he looked at him so intently always made him want to squirm, or run away, or make some odd comment.
It was a little relieving to see it now though.
"It's good to see you," Dean spoke without thinking about it. It was the first thing he thought of.
And it was, Cas being here felt like that missing piece was back in place. Perfectly slotted. It was kinda clouding his judgment.
Cas did the head tilt thing that he always did (and Dean let himself think for the first time that it was cute), eyebrows furrowing together. Even if Dean didn't know him well enough, he would've known he was confused.
"It's good to see you too, Dean," he finally spoke, cautiously but still so damn genuine, "-Although, I do wish we met in different circumstances."
Dean laughed a little, and the silence felt like he was being swallowed whole. But he just couldn't open his mouth.
"Dean?" He still said it exactly the same as he did the first day he met him. It made his head spin a little.
He looked at him, wordlessly.
"Why am I... here?"
Dean pushed his lips together, kind of deflecting, "When did you get out?"
Cas looked at him, maybe a little guiltily but still very sound, "Jack got me out... as soon as he had the power to."
"So, what-" he stated, trying to clarify, "-uh, right after Chuck was taken care of? When he snapped everybody back into existence?"
"Yes," Cas answered, "-After he left the two of you, he spoke to the Empty and got me out. It apparently wasn't easy, but..."
Dean but at his lip a little, looking to the ground a second, "So... So, all those weeks I was on Earth, you were out? Alive?"
Cas was just staring at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. Dean saw something shift through his eyes that couldn't really understand.
"And you-" he continued, now a little frustrated, "-you what, you didn't think to at least tell me that?"
"Dean-"
"No, no," he interrupted, "-I thought you were dead, Cas. Gone. And you just didn't want to tell me?"
"That's not," he let out a big long sigh, "-That's not the case, Dean."
"Sure as hell looks like it," he scoffed, and maybe he was frustrated but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Not anymore.
"I thought," Cas cleared his throat, maybe a little awkwardly, "-I thought you wouldn't want to see me."
"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" Dean asked, incredulously.
"The last..." he echoed out, like he didn't want to say the wrong thing, "-The last meeting we had wasn't preferable to you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
He rolled around the thought in his head a second, and all he got was resounding defiance, but he couldn't quite say that yet. His head just kept pounding.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"Did you-" he started again, searching for answers, "-After the Empty, did you think I was happy?"
Cas looked at him a second, before swinging his eyes to his sleeve almost instinctively (where the bloody handprint would've been), "Not happy necessarily."
"But your damn deal, or whatever," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "-you had to be happy. Completely happy."
"Yes," he answered, inquisitively, "-What is this about, Dean?"
"Cas," he responded, his voice a little shaky (he could see his eyes hitch on it), "-did you think I would care? That I wouldn’t give a damn if you died?"
He pressed his lips together and didn't say a word. Dean thought it was the most telling thing in the world.
His lungs felt like they were tied with rope -he couldn't get a good breath in. Like he was suffocating-
"Really?"
"You looked-" Cas tried to defend himself, "-You looked happy, Dean."
"Yeah," he explained, as if it was obvious, "-because you wanted me to be. And I was trying. For you."
He didn't respond.
"Because what good was a damn sacrifice if I didn't try?"
Cas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Even though it looked like he was trying, maybe even trying to understand what Dean was expressing. Like he couldn't see it, or didn't believe it.
God, he really doesn't know how much I care?
He posed another question, wringing his hands, "Do you know how I died, Cas?"
"Of course I do, Dean."
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"I've had a lot of time to do some thinking," Dean continued, walking a little in place, "-and I think... No, I know that I did it on purpose."
"Don't say that," Cas spoke, voice heavy with something.
"Sammy wanted to call an ambulance," he continued, looking down at his hands and still walking, "-and I didn't let him."
"And you think-" something smoothed over in his eyes, "-you think you could've survived?"
"Maybe," he offered, "-I guess I don't know, but I... Cas, I didn't try. I didn't fight it. I spent my whole life fighting it, and when it mattered most, I didn't damn fight it."
Cas's face fell a little, some sort of understanding in his eyes, agreement even. It rattled through Dean's bones, and made it a little hard to stand a moment.
"I never thought that I could leave Sammy alone," he continued, and one of his hands racked through his hair, "-I was scared shitless to. But it was so easy to just give up. I wasn't... I wasn't living, Cas. Despite whatever you think in that angel head of yours, I was not damn happy."
Cas just looked at him, eyes flicking between his, trying to understand. He took a second, before replying, "I'm sorry, Dean. I would never want to cause you so much pain."
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
Dean's heart was pounding in his chest. He felt for a second that maybe it would burst through his ribcage like it did in cartoons. It felt damn powerful enough.
His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the urge for to say it. It was on the very tip of his tongue.
"I know, Cas," he deflected (something in his chests stung, coward), "-I know."
Cas just looked at him then, scanning over his face. He could tell there was something else, he looked right into his damn soul every time he looked at him, and there was something else. Dean waited a second, to see if he'd say anything, but he was hit with a resounding no.
Maybe he thought he'd already said enough. Too much maybe. Dean didn't know if he agreed with him or not.
"Cas, I-" he spoke, maybe a little quietly, "-I can't be happy without you. You gotta know that."
He was looking at him more intensely now, still trying to understand it all. Like maybe he couldn't imagine what Dean was trying to say. Or maybe like he couldn't even fathom it.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"I know you didn't-" he cleared his throat, eyes flickering away (he couldn't look at him right now), "-I know you didn't see me. When you, uh, died, any of the times. But I- I gotta tell ya, I was far from happy."
Cas didn't interrupt him, he just kept looking. Staring. Like every word he said was important.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
He just kept talking, at this point he could stop (his eyes burned), "I kept your goddamn trenchcoat in Baby the whole time you were..."
He thought maybe for a second he was working himself up, but he couldn't stop now.
"And when Lucifer stabbed you," he pressed his lips together, and swallowed, "-I gave you a hunter's funeral and... and watched your body burn up into flames."
"Dean," Cas spoke, he could maybe see the edge he was teetering on. Maybe he could see that he was going to cry, and that was new. Maybe he was trying to soothe-
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"And then, when the Empty got you," Dean's voice shook a little, "-I stayed there, for a... a while and cried, probably the most I ever have in my life-"
Cas flinched, maybe a little guiltily, "Dean."
"-I couldn't even answer Sam's damn phone call."
He was holding out his hands now, a little like how cops did, in those shows, when the perpetrator had a weapon or was threatening his own life. Cautious, careful. A little like he'd explode. Voice careful and measured, "Dean, I didn't know-"
"I know that, Cas," he interrupted, maybe a little defensively but he couldn't help it, "-I've been beating myself up about it since I realized that I never made it goddamn clear to you that I cared."
"Don't," Cas replied, a little pained, "-There's no need for that, Dean."
"For what? The fact that I didn't- That you didn't-" his words stuttered in his chest, and he just couldn't speak.
"I know now," he tried to soothe, and Dean's head was pounding, "-I know now that you... care. I know."
Care, care, care.
Love, love, love.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
It felt like his heart was in his throat, like everything was waiting to be said. Like it was right there, and he was so close.
"Is that what you wanted to talk about, Dean?"
All he could hear was his heartbeat in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding-
I love him, I love him, I love him-
God, he didn't want him to leave.
This house was his too, he could just feel it in the walls. There was something missing, there was always something missing. Even when he was alive-
"Dean?"
How long had he wanted this? Wanted more?
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"Dean."
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"Dean, are you alright?"
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"Dean," his hands were on his shoulders now (just like before-), "-can you hear me?"
Pounding, pounding, pounding.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
Pounding, pounding, pounding.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
Pounding, pounding, pounding.
"Dean!"
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"Shit, Cas, you can have it!"
Cas looked startled for a moment, but he didn't step away, he didn't let go. Dean's stomach twisted. "What are you-"
"Back, back before the Empty... you said-"
Cas just stared at him, it made Dean want to stop but he couldn't stop-
"-you said, 'The one thing I want, I know I can't have'-"
He just kept talking, and Cas kept staring -something shining in his eyes. Dean thought he knew what.
"-and I'm pretty damn sure that thing was me-"
Cas was looking at him the way he always did, and Dean recognized it for what it was now.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"-You can have it, Cas," he was speaking softer now, a little out of breath, "-You've... You've always had it. Had... Had me."
Cas was just staring a little in disbelief, dropping his hands, and stepping back a little (it made Dean's heart sting).
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"You don't-" he shook his head, not quite looking at him, "-You don't know what you're saying."
"I'm pretty damn sure I do," he responded, a little biting but there was just so much. It couldn't come out any other way.
Cas stared at him like he was trying to find the confusion, the lie, but he was coming up empty-handed. Wonder why the fuck that is.
"Goddammit, Cas," he pushed his palms into his eyes, "-are you gonna make me say it?"
"Say what?" He asked, like it wasn't obvious. Like he couldn't fathom it. It made Dean's hands shake, and his throat clog up.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"Damn it, I love you too!"
The silence that filled the room was suffocating, but Dean just needed to breathe-
"And I can't be happy without you," he spoke, eyes still behind his hands (he couldn't look), "-and I want you to goddamn stay for once."
There was another beat.
"With me," and he thought he may have sounded a little pathetic, but he was very much past that point already.
And there was no one here who would ever judge him. Cas would never judge him and he knew that. He knew that like he knew that the sun rises in the morning and falls at night. Cas would never.
Before he knew what was happening, he felt hands pulling back his own -calloused fingertips against his own. Dean's breath hitched in his chest.
He loves me? He loves me? He loves me?
Cas was close now, and before he fully let go, he kept his hands on his face -cradling. And at first Dean thought he might kiss him (which he wasn't sure how to feel about), but he just kept them there.
He was looking at him like he always does (with love) and holding him a little like he was precious maybe, to him. Dean still couldn't understand that, but he thought one day he might be able to. That Cas might help him to.
"Okay, Dean," he spoke, gentle after a long sort of silence, "-I'll stay."
I love him.
He loves me.
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rebouks · 2 hours
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Previous // Next
Catching up.. ☕
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Tristen: It’s pretty here, right? Matilda: For sure-.. but I wanna know how you ended up in Tartosa of all places. T: I guess it just kinda happened. M: [laughs] Yeah, but how? You randomly got on a plane one time and that was it? T: Pretty much! I didn’t exactly set out with a plan. I ended up in Moonwood Mill for a bit but it was kinda dead n’ I was running outta cash-.. decided I’d head to Del Sol ‘cause why not? Big enough place to get lost in and plenty of dead-end jobs, y’know? M: I didn’t think you’d wanna head somewhere so busy. T: I didn’t really think about that at the time-.. hated it the minute I got off the bus though. I overheard some guy speaking Tartosan in the smoking area n’ thought, fuck it. M: And that was that? T: Yeah, it sounds stupid now. M: Little bit-.. were you high by any chance? T: Little bit. M: [snorts] At least it worked out. T: I kinda love it here, everything’s so chill and relaxed-.. I did think about coming back sometimes, or visiting at least but… M: I get it. T: Do you? You’re here, I never had the guts to come back. M: I was dragged here. T: You didn’t want to come? M: I did, it was just… T: I get it-.. maybe you’d have been dragged here sooner if I’d told you where I was. M: Maybe. T: I’m sorry I ghosted you; I didn’t really mean to but the longer-… M: I know, it’s okay. T: Not if it made you mad. M: I think I was sadder than anything. T: That’s worse. M: Well.. I forgive you, so shut up. T: I’ll make it up to you.
Matilda cast a lopsided smile into her lunch, avoiding Tristen’s gaze. God, why was everything so difficult with him, so awkward? Men were easy, and Matilda knew exactly how to play each one to her advantage; it never took long to figure out how to get them hooked; she asked, she got-.. usually. But she didn’t want to play Tristen, she wanted him to love her without being cajoled, manipulated or asked. In some ways it seemed obvious that he already did, but Matilda had never played this game before, how could she be sure? She could ask outright, she supposed, but it felt impossible and far too vulnerable a task to bear.
T: So, what’s new with you? M: Nothing much, it doesn’t feel like anything’s really changed in the last few years. T: Take it you worked everything out with the whole Pixie thing though? M: I’m like a fun aunt, I suppose-.. all the good parts of having a kid without any of the hard stuff. T: Does she know you’re her mom? M: Yeah, we’ve explained that it’s a bit different but she’ll probably understand it better as she gets older. Ivan does a good enough job on his own though, so she doesn’t really care. T: Why the long face then..? M: I feel bad for him, I guess-.. him and Bruno are probably gonna break up. T: Oh, how come? M: It’s complicated. T: Chalk and cheese, right? M: Something like that. Breakups really fuck him up though and I can tell he’s wondering what he did wrong, as if it was his fault-.. he did the same thing when we broke up, blamed himself. I really broke his heart, y’know? Like, he was trying his best that time around and I threw it back in his face; not that I think we would’ve worked out in the end, but still… T: Yeah, but that was then. M: Do we really change all that much? T: I think most of us do; or can, if we want to. M: I don’t know… T: Are you seeing anyone now, like..? M: I kinda was.
Matilda shocked herself with her honesty, realising she probably should’ve lied; Triss must think she was a slut by now, always with someone new-.. someone pointless and vapid.
M: Nothing serious, he was an idiot. T: I sense a story… M: Well, everything was fine, everything was casual-.. and then he changed his mind, and got mad when I didn’t. T: Can you blame him-.. for changing his mind? M: Tch, that’s beside the point. T: Fair. M: He proposed to me, just.. out of the blue, and this was after numerous conversations where I’d told him I wasn’t into the whole kids n’ marriage thing. T: Okay, he definitely sounds like an idiot now. M: I said yes.
Matilda’s laughter hitched in her throat as Tristen’s face fell; teasing him suddenly didn’t seem so fun anymore.
M: I’m kidding! T: God-.. I just called the guy an idiot. M: Uh-huh. T: So, that’s over? M: I think he finally got the message; I’ve been ignoring him for months now-.. how about you, anyway?
Tristen laughed out loud, immediately clearing his throat with embarrassment; as though he hadn’t meant to declare his presence to those around them.
T: Uh, no. M: That’s it, just no? All this time, no flings, no nothing? T: C’mon, you know I’m no good at those-.. figured I’d be better off without the hassle. M: Guess it’s better than ending up with another Vicky. T: Exactly! M: I find it hard to believe no one’s at least tried. T: Aha, I guess there’s been a few-.. I dunno though, I always attract the wrong type. M: Yeah, maybe you do…
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on-leatheredwings · 5 hours
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Dress Up 18+
Tim Drake / GN! Reader
romantic, 18+ summary: You put Tim in a maid outfit. He doesn't think much of it... at first. tw/cw: handjobs, crossdressing word count: 888 a/n: something short and sweet to celebrate 400 follows!
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A week ago you said you wanted to try dressing up. While this wasn’t what Tim had in mind, he is not complaining. 
Thirty minutes ago you had shyly traced circles on his chest, asking if he was in the mood tonight. Honestly, forgoing any Gotham-typical imminent disasters, Tim was rarely not in the mood, especially if you were going to act as cute as that. He had just started to lean in, smirking, when you slipped out of his grip effortlessly, flew into your shared closet, and came out with two maid dresses in hand. And cat ears.
And a bell.
Tim honestly had felt neutral about it all. He’s done worse. Weirder. This was actually kind of whatever, but if you liked it, then sure, he was down.
He was neutral about it all until you both were dressed. Until both of you were fitted, you choosing to finish your outfit with gloves and him slipping into the thigh-high stockings you threw at him with puppy-dog eyes.
Now you stalk around him in a circle, admiring your handiwork. Your fingers drift along his body as you appraise him. His cock twitches. Tim shifts the weight on his feet, assured it was from the appeal of imminent sex.
“You look so pretty, Tim,” you say from behind him. A small jingle chimes from below his chin – you just poked his bell. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the velvety ribbon keeping it around his neck. 
“Um... You do too,” he says, mind suddenly sparse. He didn’t know what else to say to your compliment. Oh, perhaps he should’ve said thank you. Tim swallows again – why is his mouth so dry? And why is he feeling shy?
“Not as good as you,” you return, voice still low with awe. Your hands land on his frilly-sleeved shoulders, run down his firm arms. They sweep to brush against his nipples through the fabric, and he flinches with a sharp inhale. The dress fits perfectly, conforming to his flat chest. It’s identical to yours, likely part of a matching set. A couple’s set.
You move him in front of the bedroom mirror, bidding him forward as he awkwardly obeys. Once he’s in place to your liking, Tim stiffens at the sight of his reflection. His cheeks are red. It’s unmistakable, with his paleness. His eyes peek through his lashes because his head is dipping down. Though more lean than muscled, Tim’s body is quite masculine. It contrasts pleasantly with the softness of the costume that is entirely frills, lace, and ribbons. Tim’s eyes wander down. The white stockings really make him appreciate the silhouette of his legs, too. He blinks, wetting his lips.
… He really likes how he looks.
Belatedly he registers that you stand behind him, looking like an utter vision yourself. He doesn’t get much time to admire you when your hands slip under his dress, glancing past his naked thighs to wrap around his building erection. 
He lets out a gasp, head turning to the side to make eye contact with you.
“Ah-ah-ah,” you scold sweetly. You peck a chaste kiss on his lips, before gesturing to the mirror. “Eyes there.”
Tim obeys, hands fisted now that you’re slowly jerking him to a full erection. Over the next few minutes, he watches you pump him. It’s such a lewd sight. Peeking from under the frilled hem of a very short maid’s outfit is his flushed cock weeping pearls of cum over your gloved hand. Anytime Tim reaches back to touch you, give you any sort of pleasure, you simply guide his hand away with your remaining one, kissing at his neck and his ears. 
Tim can feel the coil of heat inside him build. “I’m going to… I’m gonna… mmf,” he pants. He’s fully squirming in your embrace, shifting weight from foot to foot. He looks like his legs are going to give out, but they never do. He bites his lip and can’t manage to keep staring at his blushing, whimpering reflection.
“Cum for me, Tim,” you breathe, more than just a little turned on. 
Tim does, his head thrown back as he gasps for breath through an orgasm. He sprays a few ropes of cum onto the mirror, to your delight. Three deep breaths, plenty of shudders later, and he dazedly returns to planet Earth, your hand still at the base of his cock.
“That… that was…” he says, breathless.
“Titillating? Fulfilling? Enlightening?” you offer, giddy. 
You knew he’d like it. You knew there was a submissive and breedable man somewhere in there, as the youth say. You would just have to coax it out.
Tim’s lips quirk. He turns around, gripping you by the wrists and playfully tossing you onto your bed. He pins you down, on all fours above you.
“Hm. Maybe,” he says cheekily, as if you hadn’t just made him finish thirty seconds ago. His face is still red and his temples are damp with a fine layer of sweat. “But now it’s my turn.”
You pause, blink at him cutely, and look at him with a pitiful smile. ‘Oh, you sweet summer child,’ your expression says. “Aw,” you say. Your hands sneak around him, hiking up his skirt to palm his bare ass. “Baby, we’re far from done.”
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eli-com · 1 day
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୧ *·˚ SLURPEES — BILLY HARGROVE
୨୧ includes — fem!reader, non-proof read thoughtless writing, lewd comments from Billy, mentions of sex, fluff fluff fluff, mentions of abuse, sweet billy, bit of ooc billy, somewhat sad ending?
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— “Cant wait for the day I can take you away from this shitty fucking town.” Your boyfriend’s voice would pierce through the previous silence, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette as he spoke, the both of you watching as it rose and eventually vanished.
Billy had picked you up from your house after a big argument with his dad, the two of you driving around town in his Camaro for a while before eventually ending up at Lovers Lake, laying on the hood of the blue vehicle, staring up into the dark, endless sky above. You could pretend you were anywhere when you stared up at the sky, imagine you weren’t stuck in a town with unreal, murderous creatures, imagine you and Billy had met under better circumstances, imagine that the both of you were free to do as you pleased.
Billy had fallen for you the minute he set eyes on you during his first day at school. He’d been waiting to receive his class rota from the receptionist when the sound of a door opening caught his attention, his head turning and his eyes meeting those alluring (e/c) ones. You had a pretty smile on your lips as you waved goodbye to whoever was in the office; the principle, your dad. It was almost laughable how cliche it all was, you were the ‘sweetest girl in Hawkins’, the golden girl who had everything going for her, whilst he was the ‘troubled bad boy’ your father would never approve of. After your first encounter you seemed to appear everywhere, in the school halls, at parties, the supermarket, fuck he even spotted you when he was just driving around town. Billy had never been so drawn to anyone in his life, never felt such a craving for another persons attention — he hated it. Instead of accepting his feelings he’d done his best to forget about them, taking a new girl home each night, sometimes multiple at a time, but he never managed to get rid of the thought of you.
He’d taken a particularly harsh beating from his dad one night, driving around town as he usually did, music blaring to distract himself from the angry tears that poured down his face. He felt weak, aggravated, all kinds of thoughts running through his mind. He could leave now, just like his mum had, just keep driving and never look back. But where would he go? How would he afford the gas? Food? It wasn’t realistic, he may not be the best in school but he wasn’t stupid. So instead he parked up at the closest gas station, on the hunt for a new pack of cigarettes (he could go through a pack a day if things were particularly rough). Upon entering, his eyes were immediately drawn to you, standing over the slurpee machine and watching as the syrupy liquid turned, sipping on your own cup, almost as if you were lost in thought. You were dressed in some pink pyjama pants with little dogs in sweaters on them and an oversized hoodie, cute.
Billy almost debated approaching you for a moment, debated asking what you were doing at the gas station at 2 am, wouldn’t your dad be mad? Did he even know you were out? What if something happened on your way back and nobody knew you were out? He’d shake the thoughts away, approaching the counter, only to find nobody there, his features hardening once more as he slammed a hand down onto the service bell, looking around for any sign of an employee. That was when his eyes met yours, an amused smile playing on your lips, which were now stained purple from the mix of red and blue syrup. He couldn’t help but wonder how sweet you’d taste.
“Oscar’s out back, don’t think he’ll be back for a while, his lady friend paid him a visit and he looked pretty eager to drag her out of here.” You’d speak in that sickly sweet tone of yours, his brows raising in confusion. Oscar? You knew the employee by name? Surely he couldn’t be your boyfriend, otherwise you wouldn’t look so amused by the ‘lady friend’ part of the story. Billy would lean his hands onto the counter.
“Great, that’s great. His boss know he slacks off to have fun with his ‘friend’?” He’d question, eyeing the array of different cigarette brands behind the counter. Surely this guys friend could keep him occupied long enough for Billy to hop the counter and take a pack without anybody noticing? Well, anyone but you, but considering you were out this late, which Billy knew wouldn’t slide with your dad from his many encounters with the strict man, he didn’t think you’d be all too bothered.
“No, how would he know? Nobody’s gonna tell.” You’d shrug with a coy grin, waving your slurpee in the air. Was this guy bribing you with free drinks? Billy couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at his lips, you looked so proud of your small act of rebellion, keeping secrets so some guy could blow his load in the back of a gas station, surrounded by trash. Deciding to go for it, the teenage boy would hop the counter, analysing the different choices he had before picking up a pack of his favourites, immediately opening it and placing one between his lips, lighting it and giving an exhale of relief. “You’re Billy, right? You’re in my home room!”
Billy wasn’t surprised you knew his name, most people in Hawkins did by now, he wasn’t exactly shy, yet for some reason just the sound of you saying it out loud made his stomach feel funny. He’d never given much thought to his name, but god did it sound good coming from your lips. He’d hum in agreement, finally turning to fully face you, cigarette still dangling from his mouth. That’s when he heard the gasp of shock that left you, confusion washing over him as he watched you approach, backing up until he was practically sat on the counter, you between his legs and staring up at him with a weird look on your face. One of curiosity, one of concern? He wasn’t used to seeing someone look worried about him.
“Holy shit! What happened to your face, did you get mugged or something?” Right, now he knew why you looked so worried. His dad had delivered a powerful blow to the side of Billy’s face during their argument that night, and there was no doubt in his mind it was already beginning to bruise. The sight of you looking concerned for his well-being had his chest tightening, he could practically feel your breath on him from this position. Fuck, since when did other people have such an effect on him? He’d never even spoken to you before yet you managed to make his cheeks become a rosy hue just from a look.
“What? No, you really think someone would try fucking mug me?” He’d scoff, almost offended, rolling his eyes and dropping the hardly used cigarette to the floor before peering back down at you, hard features suddenly melting at the sight of that caring look in your eyes, the way your lips pulled into a small frown. Did you know how gorgeous you were? He didn’t think so, nobody who knew they were as beautiful as you were would be hanging about in Hawkins. No, in Billy’s mind you were pretty enough to be a model, fuck, if he had it his way you’d be on every billboard and magazine cover out there. He’d never get tired of seeing those perfect features. “I just- I ran into my door, earlier.” He’d internally groan at the shitty excuse.
You didn’t question him, which he was grateful for; you could tell he wasn’t all that eager to talk about whatever really happened at the moment and you didn’t want to upset him more, it was clear he’d already had a tough night. “Does it hurt? Looks like it hurts.” Without thinking you’d raise the icy cup in your hand, pressing it ever so gently to the side of his face where the bruising had occurred. He’d hiss, trying to move away from it as it stung him, but your hand would follow, making sure the cup didn’t leave the side of his face. “Stop moving, it’ll help.” You’d speak sternly; you were bossy, he guessed you probably got it from your dad. But rather than getting annoyed with you like he would your father, he found himself obeying, relaxing back against the counter and letting you hold the cup to his face, the ice inside somewhat easing the burning of the bruises.
The two of you stayed like that for god knows how long, refilling the slurpee cup every so often and talking about anything and everything; California, your dad, music — all sorts. Billy was just grateful to be given the chance to have such a long conversation with you, even if he hadn’t been the one to initiate it. Eventually the gas station employee would return, he looked maybe only a few years older than the two of you, a lanky boy with hair so long in the front that it had Billy wondering how he could see where he was going. He wore a dopey grin on his lips until he spotted the two of you behind the counter, immediately throwing his arms into the air and ordering you both to move, mentioning something about how he said you could help yourself to the slurpee machine and nothing more. Billy drove you home that night, and when he parked outside of your house you grabbed a pen that had for some reason been thrown onto his dashboard, writing your number down onto the palm of his hand and offering a cheeky smile before rushing off back to your home. Billy called you the minute he woke up later that day asking you to see a movie with him, and since then you hadn’t left each others sides.
Billy had never felt so much love for another person until he met you, never wished for someone’s presence the way he wished for yours. When his mum walked out and left him behind with Neil, Billy didn’t blame her, in fact he probably would’ve done the same. Maybe she wanted to leave every trace of her old life behind, and that included him. Maybe she saw how much Neil had fucked him up and feared he’d turn out just like him; that was Billy’s biggest fear too, but when he looked at you he knew there was no way he could ever hurt you, especially not in the ways his dad had hurt his mum. You made him feel like he didn’t have to hide how he felt, you validated his emotions, helped him calm down when he was panicking, treated his wounds when he got into a fight with Neil. You reminded him that life didn’t end the minute his mum left, and that he was worthy of happiness. You let him know he had the right to feel betrayed, that it really was possible for someone to love him despite his anger and stubborn nature. Billy didn’t usually think of the future, he had a hard enough time just coping with the present, but since he’d met you it seemed he couldn’t stop imagining what life could be like as you grew together. He couldn’t stop imagining living that comfortable life he’d always hated the sound of until he began to imagine it with you; buying a home, getting married, having children, he’d do it all, as long as he got to do it with you.
So, as he gazed up at the stars above you both, he couldn’t help but let his imagination take over, a sigh leaving him as he exhaled another drag of his cigarette. “‘M gonna make you the happiest woman in the world, I’ll make sure of it… Gonna become someone your dad would be proud to see you with, someone you can brag about to your fancy friends…” He’d whisper, eyes never leaving the sky, lost in a daze. Your dad had made it clear to Billy since the moment you confirmed your relationship that he did not approve, and as much as Billy wished he could say he didn’t care — he did. You were his other half, and he knew how important your dad was to you. He wanted to fit into every aspect of your life and hated to hear of all the arguments you had with your father over him, how you had to defend him constantly. He didn’t want to be the reason for the strain in your relationship with your father, it hurt him to see you so upset, but at the same time he’d never give you up just because somebody else didn’t approve. He’d be damned if he lost you all because of another persons opinion, you were it for Billy.
“I dont care what anybody else thinks, Billy, you know that… I’m proud to be with you. I’m proud of you.” You’d voice, turning your head from the sky to look at him, eyes trailing over his side profile, from the long lashes you’d always been jealous of to those pillowy lips you knew the feel of all too well by now. You could stare at him for hours on end, he was just so pretty. “You already make me the happiest woman in the world just by being with me.”
He couldn’t help but shake his head at your words, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, eyes momentarily closing. This was the gentle side to Billy that only you got to see, and you couldn’t be more honoured. The little touches, gentle kisses, longing looks; all yours.
“What did I ever do to deserve you, huh?” He’d mumble against your hand, crystal blue eyes opening and meeting yours, a timid smile on his lips. “Still, ‘m gonna get you out of this place, take you to Cali and show you all the places I used to hang, teach you how to surf if you’re up to it.” He’d grin at the thought of you on a surfboard — you’d always been extremely clumsy, and he’d pay to see you take a tumble off a surf board and into the ocean. As if reading his mind, you’d lean over to slap at his arm before he copied you, throwing his cigarette away and attacking your sides with his fingers, sending you into a laughing fit as he tickled you. “Why’d you slap me? You gonna say sorry?” He’d joke with a wide smirk on his lips, his hands never ceasing their attack on you, enjoying the way you squirmed under him, involuntary laughs leaving you.
“Billy, enough! I can’t-” You’d break into another fit of giggles, doing your best to push your boyfriend off of you, but he didn’t budge. “William! I said enough!” You’d cry out, the use of his first name causing Billy to chuckle as he finally stopped tickling you, hands resting on your hips as he allowed you to catch your breath, leaning over your body, brushing his nose against yours affectionately. He'd always hated his first name, thought it made him sound old, but when he heard it coming from your lips? He couldn't have asked for a better name. ��You’re an asshole.” You’d breathe out, lifting a hand and cupping his cheek as he smirked down at you, leaning into your touch almost instinctively.
“You’re so beautiful.” He’d lean in, whispering against your lips before capturing them in a slow, passionate kiss, one hand resting on your hip, thumb caressing it whilst the other travelled higher to your waist, his chest pressed to your own. Nights like these were when Billy appreciated you the most, the nights when you could make him forget about all his problems with just your presence — he had no idea where he’d be without you there to ground him.
“Meant what I said, every word of it. We’re gonna own a nice house on the beach and I’ll make sure it has a massive porch that you can practise your painting on… Can go for morning swims, I’ll get to see what you look like when I fuck you in the sand-” He was cut off by you sending another slap to his arm, only this time it was a bit harsher, causing him to laugh loudly. “I’ll buy you the biggest fucking rock of a ring you’ve ever seen, all the ladies’ll be so jealous, and all the guys will wonder what lucky bastard got to put that thing on your finger…” He’d place a tender kiss to your cheek before moving up to your forehead, then to your closed eyelids. “You’ll be the most gorgeous bride in the world, can’t wait to see you in one of those fancy dresses, all dressed up for me.” He’d lean down to your ear, lips grazing over it as he spoke, his breath blowing against it causing shivers to run down your spine. “Then ‘m gonna make you a mummy, yeah? Make your stomach all round, fuck, you’d look so good pregnant with my babies.” He’d nibble at your ear. “Just imagine it, teaching the kids to surf, watching them play on the beach… It’s gonna be perfect. Fuck, I hope our babies have your smile, gonna be the cutest kids around.”
His words had your chest tightening, a breathless smile on your lips as you stared up at him, hand slipping from the side of his face up to his head where it ran through his curls. If he hoped your future kids had your smile, you sure hoped they had his hair and eyes, they were two of your favourite things about him. It wasn’t hard to imagine a future with Billy, in fact, you’d been planning it since the moment you met the guy when you see both 17, the two of you now 18 and about to finish Highschool. Sure, you were still young, most people would likely say too young to talk about marriage and children, but you knew, you knew you wanted those things, and you knew you wanted them with Billy.
"You'll be a great dad, Billy, I just know it." You'd whisper back, arms circling around his neck and bringing him down into a slow, sweet kiss, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair, noses occasionally bumping and causing the both of you to breathlessly laugh. The moment was sweet, full of love and sweet promises.
And he would have been, had he been given the chance, had the summer not taken him away from you before he got the chance to fulfil any of those dreams. He would have found a way to buy you that ring, would have worked extra just to get that house on the beach, would have taken care of you and your children the best he could, made sure they would never have to wonder where they'd get their next meal, never feel any fear towards him like he felt for his own father. You just wish he had the opportunity to do all of that, wish the two of you hadn't met in Hawkins, wish he hadn't been driving to meet you that day.
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vampcubus · 20 hours
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Hrrrrmmmm... Boys who; when you whistle, or tell them to "heel", or "sit", or "stay", they listen
"C'mon, pretty boy." You spin on your heel and start walking, slowing to a stop when you fail to hear footsteps behind you.
Turning around, you see him still standing there, expression clueless and kind of lost, like a puppy waiting to be picked at the shelter.
You raise an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He meets your stare - he always does, such a good boy - tilting his head like the puppy he is.
Trying to pinpoint your fixed gaze he turns slowly, craning his neck around him before turning his body fully to see no one else around him. Spinning back to look at you so quickly he almost loses his balance, he still looks a little bewildered, pointing at his chest for confirmation.
"What, do you not know how to heel?"
Eyes light up with excitement as he realizes your compliment and desparation as he hears your command, almost tripping in his effort to obey.
There's only one seat left in the room, couches and chairs taken up by your shared friends who had taken the liberty of getting comfortable as the two of you had gathered your own drinks from the kitchen.
"Ah, you can take the chair." He concludes without a second thought, not even comprehending an option where he lets you sit on the floor, moving to take his seat on the carpet.
"That's okay, I think we can make it work." You hum, but he's already shaking his head.
"Really, I don't mind." Truly, he doesn't. Heart full with the knowledge that he'll get to sit beside you, he draws beside the chair.
"What if-" He interrupts you this time, and for once his endearing need to accommodate you stirs some annoyance, "No, I'll just-"
"Sit." He's in the chair before his brain even registers your words. Thankfully his body was attuned to your whims; hands politely resting on the arms of the chair, feet planted square on the ground.
He doesn't dare turn to look at you or his friends, not sure if it's because he doesn't want to defer from his soldier-like posture or because he doesn't think he can face you without begging for another order.
Your hand caresses his neck as you slide into the chair, letting your butt fall into the gap between him and the chair before slinging your thighs over his, hanging your knees over the other arm of the chair. His hands automatically reach to steady you as you take your place, but hover just above touching you.
Your fingers never leave him, trailing over his shoulder as you extend your arm to hang around his neck. He can feel your warmth press against his side as you lean closer until your breath tickles his throat and your lips catch his ear as you whisper to him.
"Good boy."
"Stay down." He swallows. Throat dry. You'd noticed how flushed he seemed in your presence and offered to get him a drink. He was going to get it himself, desparate to serve you, when you gave the order and he felt his senses leave him.
A sweating glass hovers in front of his face and he has to remind himself to take it.
"Drink." You don't take your eyes off him. Addams apple bobbing, it burns to admit it but some desparate part of him hopes he's doing a good job for you. Thoughts spiralling past rationality, if he was anywhere close to his right mind he'd feel ashamed for being so desperate to think of something as simple as drinking as a performance of obedience.
But he's never in his right mind around you.
The urge to obey buzzes under his skin.
He can be so good for you, just give him a command, he'll do it, whatever you want, please just tell him what to do, give him a chance to prove how good he can be for you.
He doesn't realize he's panting, grip lose on the glass you gave him. Doesn't even notice when you take it away to set it somewhere safe.
"I thought I told you to stay down." You're in front of him now, hands gripping his thighs, on either side of his-
Mortification floods him.
His hands fly to cover himself-
"Stay." He freezes, hands twisting in his pants instinctively for something to ground him. Your voice leaves no room for argument, tone distant and harsh like you were scolding a dog.
His already hard cock twitches.
- Goku (DB) / Izuku, Shoto, Tenya, Denki (bnha) / Tanjirou, Zenitsu, Kyojurou, Akaza (kny) / Naruto, Lee, Shikamaru?, Choji? (Naruto) / Julian, I feel like kinda Asra and Muriel possibly? (Arcana) / Etc...
- 🐌
I AM GOING CRAZY OVER THIS, YOU ARE SO RIGHT!!! god i love puppycoded men so much. i'm going insaneeeee. will b re-reading this a lot, so thank you for sharing this meal 🧎‍♀️
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adudelolwriting · 22 hours
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oooo for the ask game, "lovers to enemies" with either Brian and Tim or Jay and Tim? <:)
so uh . i went a bit overboard with this. heres 1.2k words, hopefully you enjoy !! (ask game here)
~~~~~~~~~~
Brian and Tim had been friends.
They had met in college, and the two quickly got along. It was strange, for Tim. He had just met the taller man, and it was clear Brian was always going to be there for him. They even shared the same living space during college.
Brian didn't have a car, and so Tim drove him a lot. That's how he met Alex, through Brian. Tim had never been interested in acting before, but Brian insisted he at least tried out, and Tim got the part.
The start was… fun. There were a lot of jokes, goofing off, and just hanging around. But as the weeks went, Alex changed before stopping production completely and never being seen again. Okay, sure. Whatever.
Brian left.
He still kept contact with Tim, but now it was only through calls and texts after he finished college. The house they shared seemed emptier. 
Brian doesn't keep in contact with Tim anymore. He knew the day would come eventually, but Tim's heart still squeezed with grief. Maybe he had convinced himself that Brian would be different, his first friend out in the real world. (Tim shakes his head. He doesn't need to think about this.)
Tim is losing time. He's blacking out, waking up in the middle of the woods or street or field, hours, days, weeks from what he last remembered. He always wakes up with a shitty plastic mask, and he throws it out but somehow it's always back.
This goes on for years. The medication starts to help.
Tim still misses Brian, as he finishes moving out of this house. Tim misses him a lot, seeing everything that still reminded him of Brian. He shakes his head, taking one last look at the house, holding the last box of his things. It felt like a goodbye, a real, proper one. "I miss you, Brian," Tim mutters under his breath before turning away for the last time.
Tim gets a random call one day. It's Jay, who's asking about Marble Hornets. It brings back to many memories, but Tim still says he can help where he can. They line up a time to meet, and Jay seems very insistent on knowing information about Alex, but, whatever. The two weren't that close in college, but Tim supposes he was around enough. He answers Jay's questions, and soon enough Tim's left with a "I'll call you later and let you know."
Something's wrong.
Tim's blacking out again. It's been harder to keep stable jobs. It feels like his life is falling apart again. 
Tim's being stalked by someone. They wear a yellow hoodie, and have something covering their face. They're pretty good at hiding — Tim's only seen them once or twice. (Who knows how many times they've been here?)
The hooded figure is fast. Tim can never hope to catch up to them. 
Tim contacted Jay, this time. He found some old tapes from back when Marble Hornets was being filmed, and figured the other would enjoy having some. Tim can't remember what's on them, but hopefully it'll be something useful for Jay.
Jay lied.
Tim can be a very angry person. He knows this — that's why he tries to keep it under wraps. But when he sees Jay again, he couldn't hold himself and he punches Jay. He lied. He lied. He never wanted to continue Marble Hornets. He just wants information and wanted to play hero.
Tim was doing fine. He was doing better. Then Jay came around, pointing his stupid camera everywhere, and suddenly everything went down the drain! Tim's whole life was coming undone because someone wants to play detective, someone wants to try and help people who can't be helped!
He never wants to see Jay again after this. He never wants to hear the words Marble Hornets, or tapes, or cameras or anything. 
Tim missed Brian. He's been thinking of him recently, with the film on his mind more than normal. Brian was sweet, kind, caring, patient. Everything Tim wasn't. 
Tim… god, Tim missed him.
His medication is going missing.
He knows this — he knows he had some earlier. He saw it. But then it just wasn't there when Tim needed it, when Tim's coughing fits lead to seizures. Which leads to blacking out, and waking up face down in the dirt.
With the last person he wanted to see, apparently. Jay had also been taken out here, that damned camera left with him and letting him record everything as if it has no effect on anyone else. 
Tim wouldn't say he was depressed. But god, days like these? It made Tim feel like nothing was worth it. But he had to keep going. Even if he always throws away this mask, but it always ends up back in his hands, or his house, or car. 
Tim wasn't as angry as he was before with Jay, but he still didn't want to be walking through Rosswood with the man.
Tim and Jay started working together. It seems the universe wanted them to stick together. 
Jay tried to attack Tim. Tim hid one tape from Jay, because it was about Jessica, and Tim knew he would react badly. But bringing a knife? Did Jay really think that was going to be okay? 
Tim tied Jay up, took his camera and knife, and left. Jay would be fine at his own house while Tim left to look around Benedict Hall. 
Jay escaped. Jay went to Benedict Hall. Jay was shot. Jay was dead.
Jay was dead.
Jay was dead.
Tim went home. Everyone he knows is dead or missing or left him.
Tim goes back to the college. He's going to find Alex. 
He finds the hooded figure. (Why do they seem familiar?)
He chases them. (Tim needs to take revenge.)
Up a flight of stairs. The figure is hanging over the balcony. 
Anger fills Tim's veins, and then the body drops. 
Silence.
Tim looks over the edge, and the body is unmoving. Tim makes his way back down, and they're not breathing. (Ignore that.) Tim searches their pockets, pulling out a tape and some of his medication. He's been out for a while now. Tim downs two pills. 
The tall creature shows up before Tim could unmask the hooded figure. Tim runs back home. 
He watches the tape.
It…
……
It was Brian.
The yellow hoodie. It was Brian.
Another person Alex took from him. Tim's best friend, his first one. Alex took him. 
(And now Brian's dead because of you.)
No, no — it was Alex.
Seth, Sarah, Amy, Jessica, Jay, Brian. Alex killed them all. Alex killed them. Tim needed to stop him. He led Alex to his house, and Alex burned it down. 
Tim had nothing now. 
He had nothing to lose.
He found Alex again in Benedict Hall, hiding behind the screen of that demonic creature. Tim found him. That thing kept teleporting them around, but Tim held on and fought. He had nothing else left. 
Tim kills Alex. He goes home.
God, Brian was dead. Tim hated the hooded figure, and he wanted it dead, but… he was Brian. 
Tim felt hallowed out. He went to sleep, nightmares plaguing his mind. 
Brian was dead.
Tim didn't have anyone or anything left.
Brian was dead.
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