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#well he didn't but in cas' eyes!!!!
charlieshandmaiiden · 2 years
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Remember this??
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Now look at this
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morrigan-sims · 7 days
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Pirate Outfts
I was bored, so I started trying some different outfits on Zara... The last one might be my favorite, if only because I already used another swatch of the first one for Wolf, and I can't have them wearing the same thing... But I also love being able to see all her freckles in the 2nd one...
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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months
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This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.
In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.
Masterpost
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Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.
He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?
He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.
And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.
So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.
It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.
"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.
He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.
"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"
'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.
"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.
"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.
"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"
"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.
"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.
The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.
Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.
Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.
"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.
The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.
Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.
The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.
He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.
"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.
"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.
"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.
"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.
"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"
Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.
"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.
"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."
"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.
"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"
Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.
"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."
"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.
The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?
That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.
Part 2
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saturnsorbits · 3 months
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Lessons in Serving your King
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Prince!Bakugo, Suggestive. Word Count: 1.6k.
Summary: Closing in on his 20th name day, tradition dictates that Prince Bakugo choose his first concubines.
A/N: This might become a series, but don't hold your breath.
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'I don't want a fucking -.'
Grabbing her son by the cheeks, Mitsuki Bakugo fixes the young prince still with a cold stare. 'You will do as you're told.'
'But -'
'It is tradition, Katsuki. Not even your ego is large enough to put an end to that.' She smirks before releasing her hold and wipes a hand on the left hip of her dress. 'Now, come on... You're late.'
Huffing, Bakugo tugs at his shirt to smooth the wrinkles left by his mother, but follows on her heels obediently. Usually, he'd put up more of a fight, throw a proper tantrum, but the pit of curiosity growing in his stomach stops him making too much fuss. He's fucking human, after all. Of course, he's going to be at least a little interested in the collection of concubines that had been assembled specifically for his perusal.
That didn't mean he had any intention of choosing any of them, though.
The doors of the main hall seem more daunting than usual, but Bakugo hides his trepidation well.
Or so he thinks.
Mitsuki's hand touches softly on his shoulder, guiding him, not through the main hall, but down the corridor. She offers out her elbow, letting him cling to her as they continue to drift closer to a small, more intimate, service room.
The marble clicks under their shoes, the sound amplified endlessly as it rings behind them announcing their arrival. Large windows scatter light, bringing out the red in both Bakugo and his mother's eyes as they pass the selection of special guards already stationed outside the room. All seven of them, five sworn to his mother and two to him, are dressed from head to toe in royal finery with the lightest of chain mail glittering over their chests. Swords hang from their hips, but Bakugo knows there are much more deadly weapons hidden under their clothes and tucked away from prying eyes.
Captain Aizawa, one of Mitsuki's most trusted knights bows low when they reach the door.
Reaching out, Mitsuki presses a hand to his shoulder and pushes him straight again. 'Enough of that, you'll put your back out.'
Aizawa's mouth moves to argue, but Mitsuki doesn't allow his voice to summon a sound.
'Shouta, you have more than earned the right not to bow.' She chides in a way that makes goose-flesh break out on the other guards, but the Captain simply laughs.
'Is the prince ready, My Lady?'
Mitsuki's hand wraps around her son's bicep giving him a firm squeeze. 'Oh, you know him. Dragged here kicking and screaming.'
Bakugo scowls.
'But, I'm sure he'll manage.'
Another guard, tall and broad in the shoulders with a close crop of dark hair and a booming voice clears his throat. 'If I may speak out of turn, Captain?'
'You will not Yoarashi.'
Mitsuki waves him off. 'Oh, let the boy speak Shouta.'
The guard, Yoarashi, smiles. His teeth are too big for his mouth, but somehow there's still something strikingly handsome about him. Bakugo hates it. 'The consorts have outdone themselves this time, I've never seen a more stunning array of -.'
Captain Aizawa silences his guard with a raised hand. 'That's quiet enough, I think the Queen understands your sentiment.'
'Quite.' Mitsuki smiles, locking a chuckle behind her teeth. 'Speaking of the wonderful job my husbands consort has done, I think it's time to see what Inko has found for us, don't you, Katsuki?'
Bakugo nods, it's all he ca manage with the nerves threatening to make his knees wobble like some common whore. His jaw is tight, teeth clenched in his mouth, but it soon looses as he the doors are thrown wide and he's allowed to step into the room.
Inside the room is dark, the thick red curtains covering the windows putting an end to any natural light that should attempt to slink inside. Instead, the room is illuminated by a series of high torches that cast a godly glow about and perfectly highlighting the row of people stood across the centre of the room.
At once, Inko is upon them. She wraps chubby arms around Bakugo without a second thought and greets his mother with a warm kiss to her hand when offered. Following at her heel is Izuku, her darling son. 'Brother.' Izuku smiles.
'Half Brother.' Bakugo spits the former piece of his sentence, enjoying the way it feels between his lips – the distance it offers him from the man before him. They're the same age. Both Mitsuki and Inko had been pregnant at the same time and the boys born mere months apart, although Inko had done the chief portion of the nursing; especially when Mitsuki's milk had dried up. Something that had lead both women to an unlikely friendship.
'I heard you've outdone yourself this time.' Mitsuki pulls at Bakugo, steering him around to the front of the room.
Bakugo's eyes wonder. There's a conversation flowing in the air around him, but he pays no heed. How can he, when the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on is looking directly at him.
The man lifts his head. He is bare to the waist with only the smallest piece of cloth to cover his dignity. If Bakugo where to walk around him, which he just might, he'd bet he'd be able to see his ass in all it's glory.
He has red eyes, violent carnelian, that pierce right to Bakugo's soul and red hair that is tied neatly in a bun atop his head. Licking his lips when he catches the princes' eye, the man smiles, flashing a row of blade-like teeth that threaten to bring Bakugo to his knees.
'Did you hear?' Mitsuki pats Bakugo's lapel.
He didn't, but he nods anyway.
His eyes slip further down the line, silently comparing each concubine to the next, but no-one compares to the red-eyed man until his eyes are blessed by you.
You're near the end, stood beside two others that don't even come close to your beauty with your chin tilted to the floor and your hands clasped neatly before you. Like the others, you're dressed in almost nothing, but it's the bright red 'V' painted onto your skin across the top of your breast bone that has him pausing.
He's seen the mark before and a cursory glance back down the line tells him exactly where. The red head, amongst two or three others, also bare the mark.
Bakugo swallows.
Already he can feel his breeches tightening uncomfortably.
'How many?' He snaps, forcing his eyes from the line and onto Inko.
She blinks. 'Pardon?'
'How many... For my... For my harem?'
'Oh. Most choose at least six to begin with, but after that is custom to add another concubine for each year until you reach 29. Sometimes other kingdoms will offer then as gifts, but you're more than welcome to dismiss -.'
Bakugo raises his hand. 'I don't want a history lesson.'
'Oh, I -.' Inko blushes.
'Brat, watch your tongue...' Mitsuki raises her hand to crack him across the back of the head, but the prince side steps her assault easily.
'I want that one...' He points at you, eyes narrowed and hungry before he turns, pointing at the red haired man at the other end of the room. 'And him. That's all.'
Mitsuki's brow furrows. 'Two? Inko here scourers the kingdom for the finest it had to offer and you choose only two?'
Bakugo folds his arms. He can feel your eyes, the red-heads too, burning through his skin. It makes him hot, makes him wonder what it'll be like when your eyes grow heavy, when they're spotted with ears and your mouths are full of his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
Clearing his throat, he tries to readjust his breeches.
He won't have to imagine soon. No, soon, you'll be his.
'Have them brought to my rooms tomorrow.' Turning on his heel he shouts over his shoulder before storming from the room before his cock begins to soak into his breeches.
Tomorrow, he thinks as soon as the doors slam shit behind him.
That should give him enough time to fist himself stupid to the thought of red eyes and glittering skin.
Hopefully, that would stop him making a fool of himself at the first meeting.
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Bakugo already looks bored when you're brought into his rooms at noon the following day. The door closes behind you, a guard having performed the customary introductions, and all too quickly you're swallowed by the nerves that climb up your body and twist around your lungs.
Adjusting his seat, Bakugo pulls a foot up onto his chair and spreads his knees. A bark leaves his chest that he hopes is harsher than it feels. 'I don't fuck virgins...'
You hear the wet click of Kirishima's throat from beside you in the silence of the room. Even though the red ink is gone, the fact of your both being intact remains the same. 'Uhm, my lord... I mean – Prince Bakugo, I'm... I think there's been some mistake, we're – we're both -.'
'I know.' He waves his hand. Anticipation creates pins and needles in his thighs. Even if he wanted to fuck right now, he's not sure his body would hold out long enough. Maybe, five orgasms in the space of a day was too much.
'Well, you can see how this might be a problem then...' Twisting his knuckles around each other, Kirishima chews at his lip and forces a weak smile. It's strange how he makes six-foot of man look almost as small as you are, but he does it easily and blushes pretty to boot.
'How -.' He clears his throat. 'How are we supposed to serve you if -.'
'You're going to fuck each other, first.' He arches an eyebrow, drawling as if the solution to his little problem has been more than obvious. A smirk curls his lip. 'I'll watch.'
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-> Masterlist
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roolette · 4 months
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How Mk1 Men Fuck You
CW: NSFW, gn!reader
Bi-Han is just mean about it, frankly. Teasing you, never exactly hitting the spot you need him to, close enough to feel it, but not enough to really do much. And don't bother begging with him. He'll just roll his eyes and scoff, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb and not doing anything to give you release.
"I've barely touched you... how are you that desperate already? Honestly, it's ridiculous. You'll get what you want, just be quiet."
When he finally fucks you, it's at a relentless pace, holding your hips in place as he thrusts into you. He's stopped the teasing now, and is wholly focused on making you fall apart in his arms.
Tomas just wants to make you happy. He begs to taste you, to let him touch you where he wants to. He whines at the slightest touch from you, and you both know that you're the only one who can elicit these reactions from him. He could spend forever between your thighs, seriously, he'd die happy there. He'll run his hands up and down your thighs while he gives you head, he has to be touching you.
"Ahh... you look so... like this, I mean- don't tease me! I'll come up with a good description, just... let me have this."
PLEASE hold his jaw and make him look at you while you ride him. Remind him that he's yours, and he'll practically melt. He'll likely be the more vocal out of the two of you, babbling about how good you feel.
Kuai Liang is possessive in bed, but how can you blame him? It's the place where you're his, completely. And maybe this is just me being insane over that skin where his hair is up, but but he likes when you pull his hair while he fucks into you. You can also run your nails along his back, and good luck to anyone who comments on it. He's yours, and you're his, and he wants sex with you to be a reminder of that. He likes being able to look at you while he fucks you, especially those lovely expressions you make.
"No, don't look away. Keep your eyes on me. I don't want to miss a second of this."
You didn't initially expect him to be so open with his feelings in bed, but he likes to be vulnerable with you. He feels safe with you, and he doesn't have to be anyone but yours.
When it comes to fast and hard, it's Johnny Cage. Sex with him is always so energetic, and you have to wonder where that energy comes from. Admittedly, it took some time in the relationship for him to be intimate or slow with you, but you got there. Even then, he just likes sex to be fun. He'll crack jokes, tease you, or randomly bite you when you're least expecting it. He'll thrust up into you while you ride him, just to be a dick and throw you off balance. Have I mentioned he's a brat? Because he's a brat.
"So. You come here often? Well, you're about to, and- hey, ow! I'm supposed to be on camera, you know."
When he's intimate and slow, though, he really is. He'll whisper praises in your ear, words so genuine that it makes you blush more than the things he's doing to you. Everything he's too afraid to say sometimes, it all falls apart when you're in his arms.
I'm SICK and TIRED of people saying that Raiden doesn't know anything about sex, etc. He is loving, tender, and occasionally giggly. He sees sex as another way to be near you and show you how much he loves you. He'll kiss you all over while he's inside you, and he loves to praise you. He likes to fuck you with you in his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist. It's perfect, really. He can go deep inside you and look at you at the same time.
"You look so perfect like this. I'll move, love, I promise, just let me watch you for a moment."
He can make you cum fast, but he chooses not to. He likes to draw out your pleasure. Less to tease, and more to make it last as long as possible. He wants to fall apart with you.
Kenshi is going to make you cum on his fingers before he even thinks about fucking you. He's infuriatingly good at it, too. He'll leave you gasping and moaning just from his fingers, and he can't help but smile smugly about it, which only makes it more frustrating. You can beg him to fuck you, but it won't work. That's happening when he decides to, and not a moment sooner. So you may as well get used to cumming on his fingers.
"You're seriously still begging? C'mon, you know it's not going to work. Still, it's nice hearing you like this."
When he finally fucks you, it's slow and rough, going as deep as possible with each stroke. He'll wrap his arms around you while he does, face pressed against your shoulders, muttering praises and teasing words against your skin.
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incognit0slut · 5 months
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DARK DESIRES
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Last part of kinktober | main masterlist
ghostface!spencer x fem!reader; dubcon, knife play, sensory deprivation, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, rough sex
A twisted encounter with the masked killer roaming in your neighborhood had you questioning your morals because as it turned out, you were more attracted to him than you let on.
words: 6335
a/n: this fic might not be everyone's cup of tea. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, DO NOT ENGAGE. Anyway, thank you for the amount of love everyone has sent me through this short series. I appreciate it❤️
(find my ghostface reid edit here and here)
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THE FIRST ENCOUNTER you had with the masked killer was at home. You were in your living room, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the television until the news captured your attention. You watched with a mix of fascination and horror as the unfolding report detailed a series of gruesome murders, each committed by a mysterious figure concealed behind a chilling mask.
"The armed suspect remains at large as law enforcement intensifies efforts for apprehension," the newscaster's voice declared. "Victims have sustained multiple stab wounds, with survivors recounting a chilling detail of a mysterious call from an unknown number before each attack. Citizens are urgently requested to report any suspicious phone activity."
As you sat there engrossed, a sense of dread began to coil around you. The details of the gruesome murders had been haunting enough, but a chilling realization gripped you as the camera panned across the crime scenes. Your eyes widened as the news footage revealed a recognizable building. That was the local library a few blocks away from your house.
A shiver went down your spine, and a cold unease settled in the pit of your stomach, as you realized that one of the victims was the young teenage boy who volunteered at the town's library every weekend. It then dawned on you with chilling clarity—a serial killer was lurking in your neighborhood.
The second time you saw the masked killer, his face was plastered around town. Ghostface. That was what they called him. The once-anonymous menace had transformed into a chilling icon that echoed through hushed conversations and whispered warnings. His mask, a pale and expressionless countenance with hollow eyes, exuded an unsettling aura of anonymity. It was what you saw in every corner; materializing on posters, shop windows, and even billboards.
Beware of Ghostface!
It was ironic. For someone who was murdering people with his bare hands, your community was giving him too much attention. It wasn't until you saw a group of well-dressed people, who clearly weren't from around here, that you realized how serious this situation was.
When the FBI arrived, you knew it was no longer a local matter, but a national concern. There was reassurance in their presence, in the sense that the full force of specialized agents was now focused on apprehending the killer that haunted the streets. But despite their formidable presence, against all expectations, the masked killer continued to pursue more victims.
You couldn't help but wonder every time someone you knew was reported dead—were these people even doing their job right? What were they doing here when they couldn't arrest one person when they came in a full pack?
You never really noticed these agents, although you did sometimes see them lurking around shops and houses to ask questions. You didn't really give them much attention, until that one night when you walked back from work and saw a figure leaning casually against a sleek, black SUV adorned with government markings.
He was standing alone, arms crossed and eyes focused on you as you slowly stepped closer because the only way to your house was to pass this street. He was clad in the quintessential FBI vest over his dress shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms. His height commanded attention, casting a subtle shadow that seemed to stretch into the surrounding darkness.
A cascade of curly, unruly locks framed his face, falling in a chaotic dance that obscured much of his features. But even in the dark, you could tell he was handsome, and the messiness of his hair added a touch of his disheveled charm. Yet, it was his eyes that held you captive. Stark and penetrating. Instead of finding comfort in the presence of an authority, you felt an unsettling chill crawl down your spine as his stare lingered on you.
"You shouldn't walk alone at night with a killer on the loose," he stated abruptly, his voice cutting through the silence.
Caught off guard, you stammered in response, "I, uh, my house is right around the corner."
His eyes, still fixed on you, held an inscrutable intensity. You shuddered. Without thinking much, and fueled by a sudden surge of unease, you briskly left his side.
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People say the third time's a charm, that the idea after two unsuccessful attempts or failures, the third attempt is more likely to be successful or fortunate. However, in your case, you didn't know what to make of it when you encountered the masked killer for the third time.
It started with a call.
At first, you didn't bother the unknown number flashing on your phone, especially when a killer was roaming around town with its known trademark of calling his victims before his attack. So you ignored it and continued to prepare your dinner. But then it rang again. Once. Twice. Three times. The fourth time it constantly rang, you realized, that whoever was on the other line wasn't going to stop until you answered.
"Hello?" you nervously greeted.
"Hello there. Took you long enough," the voice on the other line replied. It was soft, distinctly masculine, quite disoriented, yet it carried a mysterious familiarity that you couldn't put your finger on.
"Who is this?" you pressed.
"A person."
You scoffed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief coloring your response. "Charming." With an eye roll, you dismissed the call, attributing it to nothing more than a prank. "Goodbye."
"Wait—no! Don't hang up!" The urgency in the voice pleaded, catching your attention before you could close the connection.
Frowning, you hesitated, the nagging sense that you had heard this voice somewhere before lingering in your mind. "No, really, who is this?"
The voice, now veiled in a playful tone, responded with, "A secret admirer." 
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across your face. "I doubt it," you said, leaning over the kitchen counter. "No one has ever had a crush on me."
"Well, I do."
"Tell me who you are then," you challenged.
"But it won't be a secret anymore."
You paused for a moment, the wheels of curiosity turning in your mind. "You really know me?" 
"Of course, I do."
"Do I know you then?" you asked.
"Maybe," he answered, a playful ambiguity threading his response. "So, you got a boyfriend?"
"Why?" You laughed, the unexpected question breaking the tension. "You wanna ask me out on a date?" 
"Maybe," he responded again, maintaining a hint of mystery. "So do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."
"That's a pity," he sighed, his tone taking on a flirtatious note. "You look too good in that shirt without a man appreciating it."
Your heart quickened at his words. Was he... you looked around your house, your eyes traveling across the many windows adorned in your personal space. A mixture of shock and discomfort settled in as you considered the possibility of being observed.
"W- What did you say?" 
"You look too good in that white shirt," he repeated. "Doesn't leave much to the imagination." 
You looked down at yourself. The shirt he mentioned was actually a tanktop you decided to wear for bed, but you weren't wearing anything else under it, so true to his words, this piece of clothing didn't leave much to the imagination. The hemline hung low on your chest, leaving a perfect view of your cleavage. The cold temperature of the room managed to make your body react, which was why your nipples were pressing hard against the material.
"Hello? Are you still here?" Sensing your silence, the voice on the other line held a sudden edge of urgency. "Wait—don't you hang up on me—"
You quickly ended the call. Feeling a sudden need for privacy, you hastily closed the curtains, shutting out the view from the windows as you clutched your phone in your hand. Your heart raced, and a wave of dread engulfed you. The unsettling possibility that someone might be targeting you, and not just anyone, but the masked killer, cast a chilling shadow over your thoughts.
The phone rang again. You hesitated, a part of you urging against answering, but somehow, almost involuntarily, you found yourself pressing the phone against your ear. The adrenaline of fear seemed to override your rational instincts, forcing you to engage with the source of the unease, even against your better judgment. 
"I told you not to hang up on me," the man greeted you, but his voice lacked the soft, friendly tone it had before. Instead, it had morphed into something more sinister, a deep resonance that reverberated through the air.
"Wh-who is this?" you asked, your voice quivering with a blend of fear and frustration. "What do you want?"
"To volunteer. Let me appreciate how good you look tonight."
You were desperate now. The urgency in his voice propelled you into action. Your feet guided you to the front door, and you locked it securely before quickly running up the stairs. Panic seized you as you checked and secured all the windows, the sense of vulnerability amplifying with each lock turned.
A sudden sound of laughter filled your ear. 
"What you're doing is useless," he taunted, the malicious glee in his voice sending shivers down your spine. Then, with a sinister tone that cut through the air, his next words had you stopping in your tracks.
"I'm already inside."
The air in the house thickened with dread as his words hung ominously. Panic set in, and the once-familiar surroundings now felt like a trap closing in around you. Every creak of the house, every flicker of shadow, became a sign of impending danger.
He was the one to end the call, and you looked down at your front door from the top of your stairs. You calculated how long it would take you to escape your own house as you slowly descended down. But then, the closet door by the front, the small room where you kept your coats and unused items, suddenly opened.
The creak of the door echoed through the silence, and your eyes fixated on the widening gap. Your escape route seemed to diminish and fear paralyzed you. The once-familiar confines of your home now held an intruder, and as you stared at the ominous opening, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Your eyes widened, because right in the flesh was none other than Ghostface, stepping out of your closet with a knife in his hand. The chilling reality gripped you, and time seemed to slow as the masked intruder stood before your eyes. The pale, ghostly visage stared back at you, obscured by the haunting mask that concealed any trace of humanity.
You moved on instinct. You turned on your heels and ran back up the stairs, even when you were aware there was no escape unless you jumped out of your window. But it was a better plan than running right into the arms of a killer, so you picked up your pace, sprinting as fast as you could down the hallway.
But he was fast, unnaturally so, and suddenly you felt a vice-like grip around your waist. His hand urged you with brutal force before slamming your back against the wall. The impact reverberated through your body, and a gasp caught in your throat as the cold surface of the wall pressed against you.
His presence loomed, the masked figure inches from your face. The hollow eyes of Ghostface bore into yours through the chilling mask, and the glint of the knife in his hand reflected the cruel intent that hung in the air.
Panic engulfed you as his other gloved hand circled around your throat. "Pl-Please.." you chocked, struggling against the force he pressed on your neck. "...don't—don’t kill me."
The air felt constricted, and the desperate plea escaped your lips in a struggled gasp. The gloved hand tightened its grip, the leather cool against your skin, as Ghostface's masked visage remained impassive. 
"Kill you?" he asked, an eerie edge in his voice. "That's the last thing I want to do right now."
You desperately placed a hand on his wrist as you let your phone hit the ground.
"Don't move," he warned. But you kept on thrashing around, the primal instinct for survival overriding reason, and he tightened his grip on you. "If you keep struggling, I might have to gut you out like a damn fish."
That made you stop. Satisfied you were listening, he finally let go of your throat. The release brought a gasp of air, and you stumbled back, leaning against the wall. 
"I'm not here to kill you," Ghostface declared, the chilling mask betraying no emotion. "But I do have something else in mind." 
He responded by caressing your face and pinning you against the wall. The cold, gloved hand traced a chilling path across your skin, and you felt the sharp contrast between the mask and the vulnerability of your flesh. He tilted his head as he saw the fear in your eyes, tears welling at the corners.
"Aw, come on, don't look so scared," he murmured, a perverse tenderness in his voice that clashed with the situation. His sharp blade went to your throat, the cold steel sending a shiver down your spine. He forced you to stare into the hollowness of the mask.
"Let me have my fun."
You felt the blade on your skin as he dragged the weapon along your body. He smiled when he noticed you tensing, trying to avoid the sharpness of the blade from grazing your skin. Through tear-filled eyes, you looked up, struggling to catch your breath. Fear still consumed you, a chilling grip on your senses, but alongside it, an unexpected emotion stirred. Curiosity.
As you gazed at the masked killer looming over you, a strange sense of intrigue took place. It was a baffling response, the surreal proximity to the infamous Ghostface left you grappling with a mix of terror and fascination. The sheer scale of his presence seemed to stretch into the shadows, and you couldn't help but wonder—was he actually this tall?
A sudden movement caught your attention as he took a step. He moved underneath the black cloak he wore, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he slipped a leg between yours. The confined space of the hallway seemed to shrink further as his presence pressed in on you.
And then there was silence. The air hung heavy with anticipation, and you sensed a deliberate slowness in his actions. It was as if he offered you a chance to resist, to push him away. But you didn't move. Instead, you held your breath, the rhythmic pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet.
"You've stopped struggling," he hummed to himself, trailing the knife over your shoulder. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
There wasn't time for you to reply as he hooked the blade under your top and ran it along the fabric, watching it snap under the sharp surface. The cool air hit your skin as you were suddenly exposed to him. Without warning, his other hand moved over your breasts, squeezing them roughly, earning a gasp from you. Your heart pounded with something akin to fear, or perhaps, it oddly felt like… excitement?
"Of course, you are," he muttered, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You could feel the cool touch of his gloved hand over your skin as he brushed his thumb over your sensitive bud. "Knew you were a fucking slut."
What was happening? It was wrong, morally twisted, yet you found a strange sense of anticipation as he continued to touch you. Your body was shaking, not just from fear, but from something else. While your rational side recoiled at what was happening, your body seemed to betray a darker truth.
You hated yourself. You loathed how easily you were giving in. You kept on reciting how wrong this was in your head, but when you felt the blade cut through the fabric of your shorts with ease, you didn't mind as much. Then your breath hitched when he quickly ripped your panties with his knife, and somehow you were now naked with his leg placed between your thighs.
"Would you look at that?" He taunted, his leathered hand moving over your curves. "You're dripping."
You let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up your thigh, stopping just before his fingers brushed over your heat. The touch was so faint it shouldn't have even had that much of an effect on you, but it did. It fucking did.
This was so unlike you, you weren't the kind of person to let someone you barely knew touch you. You even disliked the idea of a one-night stand. Yet here you were, legs wide open as you let a murderer touch you, and the messed up thing was, you wanted more.
He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing your clit teasingly as if to test your reaction. You bit your bottom lip, stopping yourself from moaning aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as he played with your clit skillfully.
He was far too good at this, you found yourself thinking. Your body jerked as he increased his pace and you knew he had a goal in mind—to make you fall apart. The fast pace of his fingers had your brows furrowing as you chewed your bottom lip, desperate to keep quiet despite the way your hips bucked and rolled against his hand. He let out a chilling laughter.
"Stop acting like you don't want this," he said, increasing his pressure on your clit. Your eyes screwed shut, and you focused on that touch alone, the leather sliding over your wet skin. "Let me hear your pathetic voice."
You shook your head furiously.
"No?" He mocked. "You wanna bet how fast I can make you scream?"
His fingers moved from your clit, dragging down your slit and collecting your juices, briefly stroking you, earning a muffled cry out of you. Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He laughed again.
"I'm going to make you scream so loud your neighbors will know how much of a slut you are."
And then he pressed the edge of the blade on your throat at the same time he plunged two fingers inside you. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open and a loud squeal left your lips, the sound distorted by the vibrations surging through your body. He hummed in satisfaction at how fast it was to earn that moan from your lips, and surprisingly, he loved the sound you made.
It didn't take long for him to force more sounds out of your pretty mouth. You felt the coolness of the wall behind your back, the pads of your fingers brushing over the concrete in a pathetic attempt to get a hold of something, anything that could keep you steady while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your throbbing cunt with a wet, squelching sound.
Adrenaline surged through your veins, saturating every cell of your trembling body. The electrifying rush heightened your senses, amplifying the surreal nature of the pleasure. You wriggled your hips under the pressure of his body that was keeping you pinned against the wall, feeling so fucking embarrassed by the wetness dripping out of you.
"Fucking filthy, letting a murderer touch you." He then dragged his fingers out of you and started to rub your clit in tight, rapid circles. You practically cried out and quickly bit your lower lip to subside another embarrassing moan. "You know how many people I've killed with this hand? The same hand touching your sweet little pussy?"
Your thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away. He responded by sinking three of his fingers inside you and groaned at the way you were clenching around him. "Look at you taking my fingers so well."
The leather slightly burned your skin, and somehow, it only heightened your pleasure. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit hard as he continued to curl his fingers. You gasped as your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him while his fingers pushed deeper into you, touching a spot you had never been aware of. The sensation brought an unusual feeling to your senses. You looked at him in confusion, your eyes widening.
"Pl- Please, stop," you begged out of fear of the unknown. The tickling in your abdomen was becoming almost unbearable, and you clasped your thighs together and involuntarily bent your knees a little in an attempt to make his fingers slip out of your wet cunt.
With a feral growl, he suddenly threw the knife on the floor before wrapping his hand around your throat, pinning your head against the wall.
"Take it," he hissed and tightened his grip, making you jolt forward. You helplessly part your legs and whimpered as his palm brushed over your clit with every thrust, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he held you in place. "Fucking take it."
The sensation was overwhelming to the point tears began to trickle down your face, and you tried to desperately blink them away as they hindered your vision.
"Oh, you're crying now?" He cooed, still rocking his fingers violently inside you. "Pathetic."
Before you knew it, your hips were bucking, distraught cries escaping you. Your body shuddered as if it were under his control, forcing out your orgasm like it was effortless as his fingers curled inside you, continuing to stimulate you even after you begged him to stop.
It wasn't long before he was bringing you back up again. His pace turned into a more intense speed that, to your surprise, the familiar contracting of your pulsing walls was followed by the splurge of weird liquid coming out of you. Your mouth fell open as you writhed against him, your sensitive cunt almost numb to the sensation as he pressed you for more.
You were so numb you could no longer feel his fingers buried deep inside your convulsing walls, squeezing around his digits as you shook in the tremors of your release. When you looked at him in shock, cheeks burning crimson and chest rising and falling heavily, a pretentious laugh left him. With a vulgar squelching sound, he slipped his fingers out of your pussy.
"Squirting like a pathetic slut,” he spat, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. "Told you I'd make you scream."
Your body turned pliant as you gave in and sank against the wall. You watched him lean down through your half-lidded eyes as you tried to ground yourself, his movements deliberate and swift, grabbing your wrecked shirt from the floor. You watched in confusion as he pressed the flimsy material together before firmly shoving it over your eyes.
Panic surged through you as the sudden darkness enveloped our vision. Although you couldn't see him, you heard him very well. His muffled breathing behind the mask, the soft rustle of fabric as he adjusted the material at the back of your head. Your other senses were heightened when you were robbed of your vision that you could even smell him.
The sharp scent of sweat and a faint hint of earthiness clung to him, as though remnants of the ground followed his presence. Yet, amidst the rawness, there was a surprising note of sweetness, as if a subtle cologne lingered beneath the surface.
God, he was so close. His chest was now pressed against yours, and then suddenly, almost forcefully, you felt warm hands grip your jaw. Your mouth fell open.
He took off his gloves.
Goosebumps rose on your skin when a sudden breeze of air brushed across your face and you gasped. You could barely think clearly, and you could barely even brace yourself when harsh lips captured your mouth desperately. You couldn't believe what was happening, because holy fuck—you were kissing Ghostface.
There was nothing remotely gentle about the way he kissed you. A deep shuddering groan rippled through him as he continued to assault your lips. You were too stunned at the way he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you in a way that had your body trembling at the sheer force of intensity traveling through your veins.
And when you finally felt his bare fingers grazing along your drenched core, going up and down your swollen folds, he captured the moan falling through your lips with a groan.
"So fucking filthy," he whispered against your lips as he continued to tease you. His voice, once muffled, was now very clear. The tones were distinct, carrying an inexplicable familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory. But before you could even try to recall where you had heard it before, he surprised you by increasing the speed of his fingers.
"You want more of this, don't you?"
You shook your head, but your body was saying otherwise. Your hand gripped his arm as he started to play with your clit again, and your knees buckled pathetically. His other hand fell on your waist to steady you while he pressed a kiss on the hollow point of your throat, traveling further up the skin till his teeth nibbled on your ear lobe.
He then grabbed onto one of your legs and hiked it around his waist as he pushed his hips into you. You could feel the outline of his hard cock behind the cloak he was wearing and you let out a whimper when he started rolling his hips.
"Is this what you want?" He rasped out at the shell of your ear. You felt strong hands grip your wrists before he pushed them above your head, pining you against the wall. "You want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You shook your head again, attempting to anchor yourself. The struggle was evident in the tension of your muscles, each fiber resisting the pull toward surrender. You should push him. You should cry for help. Yet here you were questioning your sanity as you slowly, almost desperately, grind your hips along with his, yearning for more friction.
"Dirty, dirty slut," he muttered against your lips before kissing you once again, swallowing your whimpers as his hips snapped into you. "I bet you feel so tight around me."
Desire roared fire in your veins, and you whined. He leaned over and captured one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you moaned again before he let out a satisfied hum. You could practically feel the smirk curling on his lips as he taunted, "You react so well. I might have to keep you."
Goosebumps rose along your skin. Then in a swift and forceful motion, he yanked you, abruptly pushing you to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring, leaving you landing on your knees.
As you tried to make sense of what was happening, a hand pushed against your back, and you toppled forward, landing on the ground face-first, finding yourself on your hands and knees. A sharp smack hit your bare ass from behind and you jolted in surprise.
"Spread them wide for me," He murmured, gaze skipping over your nakedness. He marveled at the sight before him, the way you shamelessly arched your back at his command. Yet when he noticed you hesitating, he dropped his voice in a lower, sinister tone.
"Don't make me use my knife."
You quickly did as you were told, your hands traveling behind you, spreading your sticky thighs in a languorous stretch, and you shuddered under the weight of his eyes. You whined at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin and a trickle of your arousal ran down your thigh, much to your utter embarrassment. "Look how pretty you are."
Heat blossomed in your chest. Then the sound of a belt being undone had you whimpering, and you moved instinctively, arching your back even further. One of his hands landed on your ass again with a sharp smack before he gripped a firm handful of it. You could hear more rustling and a slight soft thud behind you. The lack of vision made you overly sensitive and you found yourself waiting with bated breath for his every move.
With a sharp tug, he pulled you back by your hips before one of his hands landed on the back of your neck. You felt him push down hard and you obliged, lowering your face and upper body to the floor as his other hand remained holding your hips up in the air. And then you felt him—pulsing warm right at your entrance.
A pitiful groan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock swiped back and forth along your folds. He moaned out a deep, pleasure-filled noise that reverberated around the small space at the feel of your arousal coating him. And then suddenly, without warning, he abruptly plunged inside of you. He thrust straight into that spot deep inside that stung so good a sharp cry slipped out of you. It was painful, his sheer force of girth stretching you apart, though that cry quickly became a low moan of pleasure.
The man behind you showed no mercy, thrusting his hips into you with force and purpose, so hard you felt your body inching across the hardwood floor with each stroke. Your mouth fell open when one of his hands released your neck before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you and he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher.
He held himself there as he used the grip on your hair to haul you backward to him. Your back was arched, his cock still buried deep inside of you as you fell back into his chest. For a few moments, it was almost uncomfortable, but then, surprisingly, you felt even more aroused than you already were.
You pushed your ass even higher, arching your body in search of more of that delicious sensation. It felt like electricity shocked your entire body, triggering intense waves of pleasure that repeatedly spread wildly from your core as you focused on the pleasure building between your legs, the burning sensation filling you to the brim.
It was maddening. Frustrating, even. Because you didn't even care anymore, you didn't even care if you exposed for him, you didn't even care if your knees ached from the hard friction of the floor because any shreds of sanity and pride had long since been destroyed. You wanted more. You needed more. 
It was so twisted. You longed to be broken by him. You longed to be ruined by him.
You had never imagined being in this position, kneeling on the floor with a murderer thrusting himself into you, yet here you were, whimpering at the sensation of doing the forbidden. Your mind turned delirious he released the hold on your hair, his hand snaking around your front to grip your throat.
You continued to meet his savage thrusts with your hips, slamming into you as your wail turned into a ragged scream. The sensation, though pleasurable, became too intense to handle. You attempted to move away from him, stealing his breath as your inner walls clenched around his cock. His firm hand gripped your hips tighter, preventing you from pulling away as he held you in position, thrusting his cock into your throbbing pussy.
A helpless sound trickled from your throat as your body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked you through it. Everything was so intense your mind was struggling to comprehend what was happening as he pounded into you roughly. You tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through your body but you were too overwhelmed. "T-Too much."
"T-Too much," he mocked. A sinister laugh sliced through the darkness, sending shivers down your spine. "Fucking. Take. It."
His words were punctuated with every snap of his hips. The insistent thrust made you thrash your head as your body convulsed, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where you could only wail. Your breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as he urged you on, and you gave yourself over to the wildfire consuming your body. You whimpered, head rolling back onto his shoulder.
"That's it, taking me so perfectly," his voice, now a sinister whisper, slithered into your ears. "Knew you were special the moment I saw you."
A gasp escaped you, the weight of his words settling with an unsettling realization. Amidst the darkness, you felt the contours of his laughter.
"Don't act so surprised. I'm your secret admirer, remember?" You felt his hand leave your hips before it trailed toward your front. You knew what he was about to do and you clenched him involuntarily, already anticipating what was to come. 
"Fuck," He hissed. "You feel so tight around me. I really do have to keep you now."
The coil inside you was dangerously close to snapping and he growled as your cunt clenched around his cock.
"Oh, you liked that. You like the idea of me using you? Fuck you whenever I want?" He questioned, his fingers moving to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening at his sharp movements, your hands moving to his wrist as you tried to ground yourself.
You gasped when you felt him tightening the grip on your throat, the skin tingling as he repeated the motion. "Filthy little thing, aren't you?"
"I-I—" You spluttered, feeling your legs going numb. You squealed when you felt him pick up his pace on your clit, rubbing messy circles against it as your back slumped against him, mouth parting, your tongue slipping out between your lips.
It was too much. You felt like you were about to explode. Your mind went blank. Your body felt numb. There was nothing else you could do but to give into the force of pleasure consuming you as he fucked you roughly, his hips hitting you in harsh motions.
"You gonna cum now?" He grunted, pressing his mouth at the shell of your ear. You helplessly nodded, not able to make out any coherent words anymore. He groaned between thrusts, keeping a firm grip on your ass to keep you from squirming. "Go on then, cum on my cock like the filthy whore that you are."
As if on command, your body spasmed involuntarily. It started with a prickling of your skin creeping up your body, over your breasts and face, inner walls tightening around his cock, and you came hard. You squirmed uncontrollably as all that pent-up pleasure welled up in your core. Your heart was pounding erratically against your heaving chest you could even hear the pounding in your ears.
Your mind was in a drunken haze as the pleasure continued to flow through your veins, his fingertips languidly brushed against your clit. But despite the desperate spasms of your pussy, he continued to penetrate your body. Every thrust hit more intensely than the last, wetness flooded from you as reality slipped away, and all you could do was burn, vocally urging him on as he moaned darkly behind you.
You were very far from sanity from everything consuming your body. You felt him everywhere. His grinding cock, the press of his fingers as they moved to toy with your clit, and his blunt nails cut around your throat. Your cunt continued to possessively grip his cock as you wailed breathlessly.
Heat traveled through you, body quivering and going boneless, the warm ripples of release dulling the sharp edges of your mind as he drove into you and finally chased his own high. The filthy feel of him emptying inside you, your shimmering release, and his hands decorating your skin with fingerprint bruises, was all you could focus on.
Until the distinct sound of sirens echoed in the background.
Your mind went hazy as you tried to anchor yourself and you heard him chuckle in amusement. "I guess you really woke your neighbors up," he said, letting go of his grip around your throat. You let out a breathless sigh when you felt him slipping out of you, surprisingly feeling empty.
He groaned as his eyes traveled down, watching the way his release dripped out from your convulsing pussy, traveling down the length of your thighs. “It’s a pity I have to cut this short.” Then you felt his lips near your ear. “Until next time."
"W- What?" Your head snapped up, disoriented in the darkness, as you tried to discern his voice. "You'll come back?"
"I'll be here when you least expect it." Then the unexpected happened. He surprised you with a gentle kiss on your shoulder, a stark contrast from everything that had taken place. The contradiction sent shudders through you as you felt his grip on your hips tightening. "Keep your doors unlocked for me."
A sudden emptiness enveloped you as he withdrew from your personal space. Your mind, still reeling from the inexplicable events, struggled to make sense of what happened. And now the realization that he wasn't behind you anymore prompted your hands to instinctively reach for the makeshift blindfold, swiftly slipping it off your face.
Blinking in the sudden light, your eyes adjusted to the surroundings. Your eyes caught his figure standing tall at the top of your staircase, back turned, a fleeting glimpse of brown curls disappearing beneath the mask he hastily put back on. 
Abruptly, he turned to you, the hollow visage of Ghostface now fixed in your direction. The tilt of his head sent a shiver down your spine as he looked at you for another fleeting second, as if he was giving you a silent promise as the faint sound of sirens continued from the distance. You stared back at him, heart thrumming in your chest.
And then he was gone.
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hypewinter · 8 months
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Hal bent down as the little girl approached him. Even then, he still managed to tower over her with how small she was.
"Hey there little lady," he said. "Anything I can help you with this fine evening?"
The little girl looked at him anxiously, fiddling with her hands. Ok so not a nervous fan. Hal immediately switched to serious mode, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be her parents. He didn't see anyone running up to the two of them or even so much as keeping a watchful eye from a distance.
"Is something the matter?" Hal questioned, making sure to keep his voice even and calm.
The girl continued fidgeting, her big blue eyes scanning from side to side. Finally she spoke. "You wiff da space po-eece yes? Not da am-ear-ree-ca one?"
Hal smiled at the girl. "Yes, I'm with the space police." Honestly that was oversimplifying the Corps a little but he had long since gotten to citizens calling him a space cop.
The girl offered up a small nervous smile of her own. "So you won't tell da gov-ment what I tell you wight?"
Hal was on high alert now. Just what was this little girl trying to tell him? "I won't tell. I promise," he said after a second.
The girl broke into a big smile at this. "Really? Dis way den." She started tugging Hal along and he began to follow.
"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.
"You see," was all she replied.
Hal was led down a couple different alleyways and was beginning to think he was walking into a trap when they reached an abandoned building. The girl dashed in and up the old rusted stairs, with Hal following closely behind her.
If this really is a trap, I'll never hear the end of it from Batman, he thought morbidly as he cleared the last step. Instead of finding himself facing an ambush however, he saw a boy curled up on an old mattress. The girl was already by his side as Hal approached.
"Don wowee Danny, I got help. Like I said I would," he caught the little girl whispering as he knelt down next to the boy. He had to have been older than the girl. Three years older maybe? Yet he was still so small. Hal took sight of his condition. He was in pain. That much was certain by his little face scrunched up in agony and his quiet moans. He was also sweating profusely. His raven black hair sticking to his forehead. Fever maybe?
Hal continued his observations as he scanned down the boy's body until he got to his stomach. The boy was clutching it and Hal could make out blood bleeding through from underneath. Oh no.
He quickly yet carefully removed the boy's arm to get a better look at the wound. The kid let out a groan as his arm was peeled away. Hal couldn't help but thank Oa for all his training that helped prevent him from letting out a gasp.
The boy's chest was covered in blood. Dark red mixed with flecks of green soaked through his shirt and there were bandages that had been amateurishly tied around the wound.
"How did this happen?" Hal asked, turning back to the girl. He did his best to keep his tone as gentle as possible.
Her smile was gone now, and her eyes welled up with tears. "He pwotected me," she said. "Dey wanted to huwrt us. Dey shot at us. Danny pwotected me."
Anger boiled within Hal. Who would shoot at these children? They were only little kids. If what the girl had said earlier was anything to go off of, the answer had something to do with the government. He would have to take care of that later though. For now, this boy needed medical attention.
"Let's get Danny to a hospital," Hal said resolutely, as he got up.
"No!" the little girl screeched. "No has-pee-tail. Too dan-er-us!"
"But he needs-" Hal started but then he met the girl's eyes. There was abject fear in them. As if going to the hospital would be a death sentence for both children. Where else were they supposed to go though? The boy- Danny needed medical attention stat. That much was certain.
Hal paused. There was one place. He sighed. Batman was going to kill him for this.
"Okay okay. No hospital. But what about space?"
"Space?" the girl repeated.
Hal nodded.
The little girl smiled. "Danny lobes space!"
"Well then. That's perfect."
Hal constructed a new bed for the boy, carefully easing him onto it before putting a protective dome around both children. The little girl giggled as he lifted them up. He then turned to the wall where he created a giant hammer to knock it down. Then they were off. Flying higher and higher, towards the atmosphere. As the Watchtower got closer in sight, Hal couldn't help but groan. Taking civilians to the Watchtower? Oh yeah, Batman was definitely going to kill him.
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writingoddess1125 · 6 months
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Your Weird Relationship Milestones
Weird couple things that no one talks about that is a major milestone
Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Buggy, Mihawk x GNReader
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Luffy
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You and Luffy had known each other since you were children and had also been dating since you joined his crew as the Ship Barber.
Truthfully it had been a fun journey and everyday you two got closer and closer- Just in your guys own unique way.
Today was no excpetion- After doing some basic training till noon you had skipped breakfast and was starving to rushed to the kitchen.
Walking over you saw lunch had already been made and almost the whole crew was there eating, looking over Luffy's massive plate in question to see what it on the menu- Seeing Cutlet sandwiches served with shredded cabbage.. you didn't like the recent cabbage that much.
"You didn't like the cabbage right?" Luffy questioned as if reading your mind- Nodding as he held up one of his plates to you to taste the cabbage to see if you wanted it The crew staring at you two in now total shock as you munched on a strand of cabbage and took a small bite of his sandwich.
"Ehh- Sandeich is good- But no cabbage" You hummed and Luffy nodded as he went back to inhaling his own food. Everyone watching as you went to get a plate- excluding the cabbage.
It wasn't till way later when you were half asleep cuddled against Luffy that the thought came to you- Did Monkey D Luffy just share his plate with you?
Zoro
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It had been a normal morning- you waking up first to roll out of bed and start your morning routine, of course it starting in the bathroom.
Too zoned out to care since you and him shared a living space with a bathroom so you knew it could only be Zoro- As you brush your teeth you hear the sound of water and realize he was taking a piss, with you right there?
"What island are we going to today?" Zoro questioned, you trying to rack through your brain
"Errr- S'mi S'mi i'land I 'hink-" {Sumi Sumi Island I think} You say with the toothbrush still in your mouth- Zoro finishing and stepping to the sink.
You step to the side so he can wash his hands and he grabs the deodorant- like with all your products he seemed to use prefer yours so he puts yours on instead. You handing him his hair cream which he thanks quickly and smooth through his mossy locks-
"Want a cup or coffee? Normal fixings?" Zoro called out as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Mhm!" You hum out earning a grunt of approval and spit into the sink finally. Yawning again as you were now starting to wake up.
The realization of everything hitting you. Were you two that comforble with each other now!? It felt like some marry couple morning- your face heating up as you simmered on it..
Sanji
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Being on a ship was nice, but it did have some downfalls- One being the bath situation. For some reason there was only one bathtub in the whole ship- So you had to travel from a hot bath across the entire ship to get to the room you shared with Sanji- Freezing your ass off the entire way and wrapped in the thinnest towel.
Finally in the room you shed the napkin like towel and look for something warm to wear- already starting to shiver.
"Sanji! did we do laundry?" You called, looking to see you were out of all pants and underwear- Tsking as it was a bit too cold tonight to go full natural in bed.
"Uhh No we didnt- why?" He asked as he stepped back into the room and saw you still naked as day looking through clothes- staring for a bit before Grinning.
"I think what you're wearing now is a perfect outfit" He chimed, you rolling your eyes looking back at your gawking boyfriend.
"Yeah well this outfit I can catch a cold- Remember we are getting close to the north and it's going to be freezing tonight!" You reminded and Sanji nodded in understanding before a thought crossed his mind.
Sanji sighed at this as he went to your guys shared closet- Returning with sweats and shirt in hand.
"These are my favorite pair- BE good to them" He said calmly as he held out the very nice sleep sweats you'd seem him wear multiple times- fairly sure these were the ones Zeff shipped out. Smiling as you gently took it from his hands and kissed his cheek- knowing these were going to be the best sleeping pajamas ever.
"I promise I will"
Buggy
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Show business was never easy- It was a constant swirl of chaos. Especially on Buggy's ship. So it was nice to have some moments were you and Buggy could just relax, especially after a hectic day or shows and making money.
So here you both are, Showered, out of makeup and lounging on the couch in Bugs office.
You laid there with your legs across Buggy's lap as you two chatted, there were random times that you and Buggy would absolutely say nothing in terms of conversation but just wanted to hear the others voice. Buggys hands stroking your legs as he kept his eyes half closed.
"Your legs feel different?.." Buggy questioned, still running his hands over the exposed skin-
"I didn't shave them" He seemed to nod at this and finally look at your legs to indeed see they were indeed hairy still touching them-
"Eh still not as good as mine- It's like a damn blue carpet" He grumbled flexing his leg as if giving and example. However he noticed you hadn't replied and glanced- noticing your intense stare at him.
"(Y/N)?-"
Rolling up you sit on his lap facing him and look over his face, he looked at you confused as you did this- Watching how your eyes focused in something.
"Stay still.." You mumbled before touching his nose, he felt a soft pinch and then you pull back looking at your finger.
"You had a blackhead on your nose-" He say calmly and show it to him. He scrunched his face in disgust.
"Ew Thats fucking gross... See any others?" He questioned and you began to excavate his face and back of any blemishes still talking about nothing. Buggy's mind however running over the fact that for the first time in his life- he hadn't felt worried about his nose with someone..
Mihawk
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Mihawk is a cautious person- so he is always on his guard and prepared for the worse case scenarios. That I clues you in the first few years of your guys relationship- While he trust you there is always some wall built up to protect himself.. You understand and let him take his time-
You didn't even really notice since how living he was towards you, however as time went on he did relax around you more. Got more comforble with you around and It wasn't till one night after a relaxing date and time together that you both tucked in. Mihawk had always claimed to be a light sleeper, laying on his back perfectly posed like a vampire ready to rise at any moment- the slightest movement waking him so you learned to be still when he tried to sleep. Reading a book quietly since you weren't quite ready for bed, dozing off for a good 30 minutes before you felt a slight shift from Mihawk assuming he was still awake till-
Zzzz!!! SNORT Zzzzz!!
Loud deep Snores suddently rattling the bed like a damn earthquake!
Startling you, turning to see the man laying in the bed next to you as you see his face unattractivly shoved into the side of a pillow, his hair a fluffed mess and him on his side in a deep sleep. You'd never seen him like this before, you didn't know it was even possible as you heard another thunderous snore leave the man. It taking everything in your body to not giggle as you closed your book and dimmed the light on your side of the bed. Cuddling down next to him as another wash of snores left him.
Smiling as you realize this ment he finally felt comforble enough around you to deeply sleep- in a true REM sleep for the first time in probably years. It made your heart flutter and you giggled softly- Defiently a milestone you were proud of.
Even if it ment the snores.
2K notes · View notes
lxvvie · 6 months
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On today's episode of Simps-R-Us: A Drunken Mind Speaks Sober Thoughts, or how your faves show their love after a night out.
cw: alcohol/alcohol consumption.
Capt. John Price - Will gently hold the sides of your face, bring your foreheads together, and peer into your eyes with his own hazy ones. Price tells you how happy you've made an old man like him, that he loves you, and that YOU and only YOU can wear his hat. Solidifies this by actually putting his hat on your head, scooping you up in his arms, and holding you close. And yes, you'll be sleeping like this with your face smothered in his chesticles.
Gaz - Walks into your shared place pretty much blabbering about how you just... "get him". You get his choices in horror films, you get his thinking process, you get his love language (pranking), you just GET HIM. And he doesn't want anyone else to get him and he'll fall out of another helicopter again before he lets someone else get him. ...How did he wind up under the living room table, though?
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Alex Keller - The one who's leaning against the bedroom doorway just looking all dreamily and shit at you with his hair all kinds of messed up. Keller is practically crooning 'Boss' at you so you can look at him and he can blow you a kiss. Alex, please get the fuck in bed. He chuckles and shakes his head no 'cause he's too busy enjoying the view and doesn't wanna miss a thing. KELLER, PLEASE—
Soap - (Based on this ask. Thanks for the inspiration, @cas-backwards-tie!) Soap loves you SOOOO much, so, so, so much, goddamnit, that he learned to say it. He learned the say the thing. Yeah... he didn't. It didn't even sound remotely like the thing but you can't tell him shit. Now give him a kiss for being a good boy. His kiss was nowhere near your lips, either. That'll do, Soap. That'll do.
Ghost - Is the clingiest koala bear on the fucking planet and it's adorable. How clingy, might you ask? Well, his arms are wrapped around you, he has your head tucked under his chin, and he's intertwined his legs with yours. You feel the throaty rumble of "Love you" from Simon's chest and it lulls you to sleep. And then you realize he still has his clothes on. Try to move and see how he tightens his grip ever so slightly. You chuckle and let him know he has to undress and to that, you hear and feel the soft grumble of his "Noooooo...." because don't go. Not when he just got you. This shit is one for the storybooks, though. Simon fucking Riley... WHINING?!
Alejandro - His hair is also mussed. Isn't as stern-looking. Actually has the goofiest, boyish grin on his face. Alejandro pretty much strokes your cheek and tells you verbatim that you make him a better man. Then he proceeds to cover your face in kisses, all while relishing in your giggles.
Rudy - The one who tripped over his own two feet trying to get to you, also missed the mark when trying to kiss you, and fell off the bed. Also falls asleep mid-sentence when trying to tell you he loves you.
König - You actually woke up to hearing König profess his love. Has a tendency to really enunciate Schatz in a somewhat singsong voice. Sings a lullaby in his native German. He tells you he loves you, and over and over again he confesses his love. Then you look up and see him actually cuddling the pillow tightly. Oh. Okay. How cute. You just sit and watch the entire thing. You know like hell König will be mortified when you tell him this story.
Horangi - He'd already come home and settled down for the night. Then, as if he had an epiphany, Horangi sat up from his side of the bed, got all up in your face, and told you how he'd go through hell as a gambler over and over again just to be with you over and over and OVER again. That's so sweet, Horangi, now back to bed you go.
Graves - The one who'll serenade you (Graves can sing?), call out for his Darlin' repeatedly, burp, and tell you he loves you all while in the bathroom taking the longest piss known to man. Good to know, Graves.
Valeria - Actually came home a little pissed because some stupid fuck thought he could talk about how attractive he found you in front of her. Hopefully the broken jaw sent a clear message because she couldn't be bothered to do anything else. She ends her story with a "You're mine!" and plants a big, fat one on your lips. Oh, Valeria.
Roach - He's the one blowing your phone up with text messages and emojis showing his love. Then he reveals that he got lost and could you please come find him? Except he's already in the house. You find him in the dark, grinning like an idiot at the messages he sent you on his phone, and he's so happy that you found him!
Keegan - Is the one staring into your soul after he kissed your forehead so sweetly. You okay, Keegan? "Yes. No. ...Maybe? Baby, jus' let me love you."
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octoberclidan · 19 days
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Stolen Glances
Request: Can you write a smut story with dean in it I was hoping a friends to lovers sort of thing
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Masterlist
Note: this is 18+ only. Do not read this if you're under 18.
Story:
Glances. That's all she could get of him. She watched from the passenger seat of the Impala while the sun and the wind worked together to scatter highlights through his hair, and she listened as he sang along to his tape as if there was no one in the car with him. She smiled as she watched him enjoy the drive, no monsters to hunt down, no angels or demons after them, just a drive to get supplies for the bunker. He'd come to her room in the early afternoon to see if she wanted to come with him, and she never said no to spending more time with him, to catch more glances, to see small glimpses into what her life would be like if he was hers. He looked over to her after the song ended and she quickly looked away, not wanting to he caught stealing her glances.
"Think they'll have pie?" He asked and she looked back at him, rolling her eyes and laughing.
"Remember how you threatened the poor guy last time they had none? I think they order in twice as many now just in case you come in looking for it".
"Hey, don't bring up bad memories", he gave her a fake glare before looking back out at the road, and he smiled when he heard her quietly giggle to herself.
"Sorry, I forgot how traumatic that experience was for you".
"Worst thing that ever happened to me", he smiled while shaking his head. Although he was joking, [Y/N] sometimes wondered if being disappointed by a store being out of pie was somewhere up there with all of his other traumatic experiences in his head.
"Well, if they don't have pie then we can get the ingredients and I'll make one for you".
"Are you trying to get in my pants? 'Cause that'd do it", he grinned, glancing over for a second to admire the blush he'd created on her cheeks.
"Just drive", she couldn't help but smile, turning her head to look out of the window, hiding how easy it was for Dean to get her flustered. No one had ever given her butterflies with just a smile. Especially not a cocky smile. Then came Dean Winchester, so naturally confident, more attractive than any man she'd ever met. Just one wink from him and her heart would skip a beat, just one gentle brush of his hand against hers and she lost all sense of herself. She could keep her heartbeat and breathing steady when she was in hand-to-hand combat with any monster or demon, but one stolen glance at Dean and she couldn't control it. She didn't know if it was just a crush that she hadn't been able to get over, or if she was actually in love with him. She knew she loved him in some sense, she loved Sam and Cas too, but her feelings for Dean ran much deeper than familial love. She was hesitant to put a label on it though, and she'd never tell him.
Dean pulled into a parking space right in front of the store, and he led the way in, [Y/N] following behind him. "You wanna go grab the toilet paper? I'll get the food", Dean asked and [Y/N] nodded, and the two went their separate ways. She wandered down the aisle where she knew she'd find the toilet paper, but stopped when something caught her eye. Condoms. She couldn't remember the last time she'd needed them, she wasn't into casual sex with strangers like she knew Dean was, or even Sam was on occasion. Living in a bunker and spending most of her time either inside it, or across the country on a case with the boys, didn't really give her much time to build a relationship with anyone other than the boys. She often visited the local bar with Sam and Dean, and she never really liked the lonely trip back to the bunker on the occasion that they both found someone else to go home with. She had been feeling more and more in the mood for it recently though. Her fingers and her imagination, mostly occupied by thoughts of Dean, just weren't cutting it anymore. She wanted to find a man, but she'd been holding herself back, always finding excuses. She figured that maybe if she bought a pack of condoms and kept one in her purse, she'd be giving herself one less excuse to leave their bar alone.
She quickly grabbed a packet and made her way to the toilet paper, grabbing a few other toiletries on the way to hide the condoms. The last thing she wanted was for Dean to see them, raise his eyebrow at her, and make some smart comment on them. She knew she'd probably burn her cheeks with the embarrassment if that happened. She made her way to the checkout and paid for her stuff before heading outside to wait for Dean. She shoved the condoms into her jacket pocket while she held the rest of her things in a bag, waiting by the car for him to come out. In hindsight, she should've taken the keys from Dean so she could sit in the car, she knew he'd take longer if he was the one shopping for food. The air was warm, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the light breeze in her hair.
"Hey Sweetheart", Dean's voice caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to see him walking towards her, his hands full with bags. She could see a familiar box of pie peaking out of the top of one, and she almost felt disappointed. She wondered if she'd had to make one for him, if it would give him a reason to like her more.
"Hey", she smiled, pushing off the car. "They had pie?"
"Yup", Dean chuckled. "Dude scrambled to go get it when he saw me, I didn't even have to say anything".
"I'm telling you, he's terrified", she laughed and Dean shrugged sheepishly at her.
"Hey, could you grab the keys? They're in my pocket", Dean turned to his side and nodded down at his pocket. She nodded and reached into his jacket pocket with her free hand, but Dean cleared his throat when she found his pocket was empty. Looking up at him in confusion, she noticed a light blush across his nose. "Uh, sorry, I meant my jeans".
"Oh", she said, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "Right". She took her hand out of his jacket pocket and reached into his jeans pocket, quickly pulling out the keys and unlocking the car. They set their bags down before she silently handed Dean the keys and they got into the car. As soon as the engine was turned on, Dean turned on the music, neither of them making eye contact. She didn't know why it was so awkward, they'd been a lot closer to each other than having a hand in the other's pocket. She'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on his chest, stomach, and back. He'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on her shoulders, thighs, and sides, and it was never awkward.
About halfway back to the bunker, [Y/N] finally stole a glance over at Dean. The sun was starting to set, filling the Impala with a warm orange glow, and it hit Dean's face perfectly. They were coming up to a turn in the road when Dean looked in her direction, meaning to look out her window but catching her staring at him instead. When their eyes met, she jumped slightly and turned to look out the front of the car instead, but she looked back when she heard Dean chuckle. "What?" She asked, and he smirked before nodding down at the space between them, then looking back out onto the road. She looked down and immediately her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Her box of condoms had slipped out of her pocket and were now sitting beside her, fully visible to Dean.
"You seeing someone?" He asked as she quickly stuffed them back into her pocket.
"No", she shook her head, looking out the passenger window, not wanting to catch his eye.
"You planning to?" He asked, glancing over at her. She thought he sounded worried. She looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"Maybe? Why does it matter to you?"
He shrugged as he looked back out the window. "Just think that if you're planning on going home with some guy, then Sam or I should know where you are. You know, for safety".
She scoffed and shook her head. "You don't tell me where you go when you find someone to hook up with. You think I can't look out for myself?"
"No, I do", he said, clearing his throat. "I just didn't know you were into that kind of thing".
"I'm not", she said quietly. Talking about one night stands, or sex in general, while alone with Dean was something she'd managed to avoid so far. She couldn't help but notice that he kept glancing at her as he drove. He quickly looked at her pocket, then back to the road, then to her eyes, then back to the road, then to her chest, then back to the road, then to her lips, then back to the road. It was making her feel a little self conscious, but it was also making her feel warm inside. After a few moments of silence, Dean cleared his throat again.
"So uh, if you're not into it, what's with the condoms?"
"Why are you suddenly so interested in my purchases?" Her cheeks warmed again as she saw his neck turn pink. Why did he look nervous? This was Dean, he didn't get nervous that easily.
"I'm not", he said, and she turned away from him again.
She sighed, contemplating whether it would be more or less awkward to continue the conversation. She didn't want things to be awkward between them later, so she figured it would be best just to get it out of the way now. "It's just... been awhile for me. I'm not into one night stands, but I also have needs, and desires, you know?" She asked, and Dean swallowed, nodding, but kept his eyes on the road. "So I figured, next time I'm at the bar, I'll give myself as few excuses for rejecting a guy as possible".
"Oh", he nodded. He stole another glance before muttering a "fuck this" and pulled over onto the side of the road.
"What are you doing?" She asked in confusion, and Dean turned to fully face her. She noticed that his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his chest showed he was breathing heavily.
"I can't concentrate on driving, I can't concentrate while thinking about you being prepared to go home with some guy, while thinking about you having needs and desires. Fuck [Y/N], do you even realise how hot you are?"
Now she was swallowing nervously. No man had ever looked at her quite like how Dean was looking at her, nothing but desire on his face as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, like he was finding it difficult to restrain himself. She blinked at him, completely speechless, waiting to wake up in her bed. Never in a million years would she ever have thought Dean would look at her like that, that he'd want her like that. Yet, here he was, waiting for her to say something, to give him permission. She glanced down at his lips as he licked them, and she couldn't help herself, she shuffled closer to him, sliding along the front bench. He lifted his arm up and onto the back bench behind her, and took his other hand off the steering wheel and grabbed her thigh, pulling a gasp from her as he angled her to face him. He left his hand on her thigh as he stared down at her, so close she could feel his breath on her face.
They glanced at each other's lips as they leaned in towards one another, finally closing their eyes as their lips touched. Dean almost immediately pushed his tongue into her mouth as he gripped her thigh tighter, and she moaned as his other hand slipped off the bench and into her hair. She slid her hands up his chest, leaving one there feeling his heart beating quickly as her other hand continued up to his face, feeling his stubble under her finger tips. Neither of them cared that they were on the side of the road as Dean's hand left her thigh and slid up under her shirt, his thumb just below her bra and his fingers gripping her side. She giggled as she pulled away from him, looking up and smiling. "That tickles".
He smiled at her as he leaned down for another kiss, pushing her down onto the bench and leaning his elbows either side of her. He pressed himself on top of her and she moaned as he ground against her. He left her lips and kissed along her jaw down to her neck before pushing his hand inside her jacket, pulling it off and letting it fall to floor of the car. He pushed his hand back up her top, feeling her body. "Dean", she whispered. He pecked at her neck once more before pushing himself up to look at her properly.
"Yeah Sweetheart?" He had that smirk on his face, the one she was all too familiar with, the one that made her imagine all sorts of scenarios with him.
"You're wearing too many clothes".
He chuckled before looking up over her head, out the passenger window. Luckily it was a quiet road, there didn't seem to be many people about. "Wanna get in the back? There's more space". He watched her blush as he spoke. "I mean, if you wanna keep going that is".
"Well", she bit her lip as she reached up cup his cheek. "I am prepared and everything".
He grinned as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her up, reaching over her to open her door. She laughed at how excited he seemed, his smile making him look like he didn't have a care in the world, like this moment between them was the only thing in existence. He grabbed the condoms out of her discarded jacket, and they quickly got out of the car. Dean used the time to shed his own jacket before they slid into the back seat. Dean immediately grabbed [Y/N] and pulled her onto his lap, making her stradle him. He moaned as she leaned into him, feeling a hardness beneath his jeans. She began kissing at his jawline and neck as his hands found their way back up her top, his thumbs pushing up just under the cups of her bra, his fingers spread around her sides. Dean had large hands, and they made her feel small in his grasp.
"Fuck, that feels good", he groaned as she kissed just below his ear, his skin hot on her lips. "Can I take this off?" He asked, sliding his hands back down and tugging at the hem of her top. She leaned back slightly and nodded, and he grinned as he pulled it up and over her head, tossing it over the bench into the front of the car. "And this?" He asked, his hand running along the shoulder strap of her bra. She nodded again, this time a bit shyly, as he reached around to undo the clasp. Her bra fell away from her chest and he helped her slide the the staps down her arms. "Better than I imagined", he chuckled as he grabbed a breast in each hand, his thumbs flicking over both nipples.
"Imagined?" She asked, her fingers now toying with the hem of his t-shirt.
"Every day", he mumbled, completely distracted by the sight in front of him. "So many quick glances, not enough time to properly look", he said as his hand ran down her side, making her shiver, "and feel", he added.
She started to pull his shirt up and he complained when he had to take his hands off her to get it off, but as soon as it was on the floor, his lips were on hers in an instant. His tongue pushed into her mouth and he breathed heavily through his nose as she trailed her fingers over his stomach and up across his chest to his shoulders. She was taking her time with really feeling just how solid he was, how much muscle had had, how strong he felt under her. Her hands finally found their way back down to his belt, and she quickly unbuckled it. Getting the idea, Dean turned to his side and lay her down on the seat, leaning back to kick off his shoes and push his jeans off. She stared at him and the bulge in his boxers, the little wet patch from his arousal making itself apparent.
She reached down to unbutton her own jeans when his hands landed on hers. "Let me", his tone sounded almost like a plea as he waited for her to say yes, but she was lost in his appearance. Dean Winchester, stripped down to his boxers, a lights sweat on his body, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly swollen, all because of her. Dean Winchester was looking at her like he'd never seen anything he wanted more. "Hey", he said, leaning over to cup her cheek. "Are you okay? Is this... this is still okay, right?" He asked, and she blinked, swallowing back her amazement and nodding.
"Yes", she said. "God yes, this is okay. I just got lost there for a second... do you even realise how sexy you are? Fuck Dean, look at you". He blushed and looked away from her, concentrating on her jeans again. Once they were undone, he pulled them down her legs, pulling her shoes off as he did so. Once she was left in just her panties, he leaned down to kiss her thighs, but looked up to her to catch her eyes as he did. He started to kiss higher up her legs, skipping over her underwear and kissing just below her belly button. She ran her fingers through his hair as she looked down at him, nervous but excited to watch him explore her body with his mouth.
He pecked her once more before hooking his finger into her panties and pulling them to the side, completely exposing her to him. He groaned as he leaned down, closing his eyes and licking up through her wetness. When he started to circle his tongue around her clit, she immediately clamped her thighs around his head, and gripped his hair tighter in her hand, surprised by how intense the pleasure was. "Fuck... sorry", she breathed out, relaxing her hold on him.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Do whatever you need, I'm into it", he kissed the inside of her thigh before focusing his attention back on her clit, now watching her reaction as he stroked a finger over her entrance. When she bucked her hips towards him, her inserted his finger, smiling to himself as she moaned. He continued to lick and such as he pushed another finger in, pumping in and out.
"Dean, stop, I'm close and I want us to cum together", she said through gritted teeth. He pulled away from her and raised his eyebrows.
"You sure? I can give you more than one".
"No", she shook her head, trying to calm herself. "The first one, I want it to be together".
He smiled at her as he nodded. She was completely lost in the moment, nothing else mattered other than the fact that Dean Winchester wanted to have sex with her in the back of his car, and it was about to happen. She watched with wide eyes as he pushed his boxers down, his cock fully erect, a bead of precum sitting on top. She licked her lips, she hoped they'd find themselves in a similar situation in the future where she could focus all of her attention on that, but right now she wanted him inside her. Dean grabbed the little box of condoms and pulled one out, splitting the wrapper open and pulling the rubber out. She fumbled with getting her panties off as she watched him expertly roll it onto himself.
"You ready?" He asked as he crawled on top of her, and she smiled up at him.
"Yes, I want to feel you", she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He positioned himself between her legs and slowly pushed in, holding his breath until he was as far as he could get. He let out a slightly shaky breath as he maneuvered slightly, caging her in between his arms.
"You feel so good", he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips. He drew out of her slowly, just leaving the head inside, before thrusting back in. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tight as he set a steady pace. He kissed her lips, cheeks, jaw, and neck as he continued, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Their breathing got heavier the closer they got, and the kisses got sloppy as they both moaned and groaned and gasped at every spike in pleasure.
When Dean felt her tighten around him, it pushed him over the edge, and just like she wanted, they came together. After a moment of catching their breaths, Dean kissed [Y/N]'s lips and pulled out. He discarded the condom and then grabbed [Y/N]'s waist, spinning them so he was lying down on his back with her on top of him. She snuggled into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her hairline and started to stroke up and down her back. "I never thought that would happen", she said quietly, and Dean sighed in content.
"I'm glad it did", he said. "And I hope it will happen again?"
She lifted her head to look at him, and leaned in for a quick kiss. "It's definitely happening again". They both grinned at each other before they went back to cuddling. They knew there would be no more stolen glances, they could just take as many as they liked.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats @kr804573 @cutiesarah
438 notes · View notes
tojis-gf · 9 months
Text
personal stress reliever
author's note: yes bitch i struggled w this one so bad 😭 i had no clue how to go about writing this n i also didn't want to rush it but i didn't wanna like make it too long (n i probably did jus that, sowwy). o yea i also only like proofread this for like not even 5 mins so hehe
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imagine toji in yet another zoom call for work n he's jus been so swamped and stressed with work that you jus wanna make him feel good. you look over at him while you lie on your back on the little black couch in the corner of his office, leaning back in his chair, hand against his lips and thumb resting under his chin as he listens to his business partner shiu ramble on about some changes the company is making. sounds absolutely fucking boring. so like the amazing gf and personal stress reliever you are, you decide to go and do that in the best way you knew possible.
you get up and get on your hands n knees n crawl under toji's desk, resting your plump ass on the heels of your feet, peering up at him from underneath with those big brown doe eyes, and bringing your index finger to your lips to tell him to keep it down. all he can do is look at you with wide eyes, already knowing what you were about to pull, but he lets you continue anyway.
you pull your perky tits from your tight little tank top, bouncing on release, and begin to unfasten his belt and undo his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring out, slapping against his lower abdomen. your mouth begins to salivate just at the sight of it. wanting to waste no time, you take his shaft in your delicate hands and begin to plant kisses from his tip all the way to the base of his cock before enveloping your plump lips around his reddened head.
you begin bobbing your head up and down taking in all of his fat cock, slobbering all over it, making it messy and nasty, just how toji likes it. one of his hands finds purchase on your head, pushing you down further, his fat mushroom head reaching your uvula, causing you to gag on his dick, saliva dribbling down the sides of your mouth and tears begin the well up in your eyes. unfortunately, toji's camera wasn't off; eyes half-lidded as he threw his head back, and a hand went up to cover his face as he let off a low grunt.
"mr. fushiguro? is everything alright?" one of the female employees says with concern.
"o-oh yeah 'm fine, just a headache that's all..i'll uh be right back," he mutters as he mutes himself and turns off his camera.
"fuckkk just like that princess," he moans as your tongue traces the prominent vein on his cock. you continue bobbling up and down on his cock, wrists twisting in a rhythmic movement as you continued to take him in your warm mouth. "missed that fuckin' tight little throat of yers, been so buried in work i forgot how fuckin' nasty that little mouth of yers was- shitt"
detaching your mouth from his cock, "jus wanted to make you feel good daddy, n i know how stressed you've been lately..." you say while pumping his cock in your hand "so jus sit back n relax baby, okay?"
"fuckk..yea okay doll.." toji mumbles as he lets off a groan. toji readjusts himself in his office chair so that he's now leaning back, hands behind his head as he lets you work your magic.
you place his cock in between your fat perky tits, holding them as you move up and down his shaft, occasionally giving his angry red head little kitten licks. you watch him gaze in awe as he watches his cock being devoured by your tits. "shit, i could watch my cock get swallowed by those perfect tits of yours all fuckin' day princess"
after a few minutes, toji begins growing impatient and begins to thrust his hips upward. not long after, his thrusts begin to get sloppier and his breaths begin to get heavier, signaling that he was close. "ohh fuckk just like that.."
after a few more thrusts, thick, white ropes of cum splattered all over your tits, and god does toji enjoy the view.
"fuck..ya gotta do that more often ma" he laughs as he catches his breath. you stand up with a grin on your face leaning in to press a kiss onto his lips, "anytime you want, baby"
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l13 · 9 months
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I just saw someone ask if you write for MHA. And girlie. Holy fuck. All Might, like the man is built as fuck but also kind of a loser. If you get my drift? Like yeah he’s this awesome hero, but the man is old, alone and kinda a dork.
I wanna be the young thing that saunters into his life and rides him until he’s begging me to stop. Wanna take lunch to him at work, all cute and lovey and wifey, then lean in to let him know I’m not wearing panties but I do have a vibrator. That man would explode, in more ways than one, and be a constant blushing awkward mess.
Thoughts?
this is exactly how i picture all might as well! we can share him and then he could have 2 controversial young gfs<33
so sorry that this doesn't contain any actual smut tho:(
CW: NSFW 18+, MDNI!!!, f!reader, age gap, lazy ass writing, not proofread
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He's a dilf but he's the touch-starved kind, the 'i haven't fucked someone in a long time' type, the one that you'll make a pussy enthusiast in just a couple of weeks, type<3
'cause at first he'd be reluctant y'know. Not only were you younger, but you were soooo out of his league (or so he thought). The prettiest thing he'd ever seen, really. And when you bluntly told him that you're interested in getting to know him better, he'd frowned a bit. He wanted to outright laugh at your words, but he didn't want to seem rude.
Poor man thought you were making fun of him so he tried to let you down gently, saying smth like “If it weren't for the age gap..” “You'll find someone younger, someone better, I'm sure.” and you'd faltered, apologizing for bothering him and scurrying off, embarrassed that you'd misjudged the situation
but then you kept running into him at your favorite coffee shop, politely engaging in small talk every time, and one day you didn't fail to notice how his gaze on you, lingered. How his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, down to your cleavage, and back up again. It was so quick that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you but then he cleared his throat hurriedly, his adam's apple bobbing with the movement, and you knew.
“Say.. y'wanna sit with me for a bit?" second time's the charm right?
You watched as his eyes widened slightly, “Well, I was- I'm actually busy right now-”
“Just twenty minutes, I promise,”
And Yagi quickly realized that he couldn't say no to you. So he gave a small nod, his eyes crinkling as he smiled softly, “Twenty minutes,”
He never in his life thought he was going to be put in this situation, and looking back at it, he'd never be able to prevent it anyway. Because just after 10 minutes of you sitting and laughing at his stupid jokes, he'd felt a nudge just under his knee, and he'd pulled his leg back instinctively, not being able to drag his gaze from the way your eyebrows furrowed prettily, “What's wrong?”
He shook his head, chuckling at his pathetic behavior “It's-” but then as he glanced under the table he saw your bare foot, save for the white stockings you wore, inching closer to his shin, and he snapped his eyes to yours, a shiver running down his back when he saw the look in your eyes- the mock concern masking the devilish glint quite well. “..nothing. Nothing's wrong I-” he trailed off as he felt your foot trailing up higher and Jesus Christ- when did you even take off your shoes?
Yagi let out another strained chuckle, looking around the small cafe, when he felt your foot on his plush thigh, making him jump. His hand shot down to grasp your foot reflexively, his jaw clenching as he locked eyes with you again. “What do you think you're doing?” he'd leaned a bit over the table to whisper to you, and you did the same, your head lazily resting on the palm of your hand as you pouted, “Let go of me, Yagi.”
He did as he was told immediately, and a part of him felt guilty, even when he'd done nothing wrong. “I'm sorry- but I just-”
Of course you shouldn't have let her go, you idiot. Did you think she was just gonna stop? He chides himself in his head because he can't do anything else. Because the foot that's pressing against his hard cock is clouding his judgement and he can't think of something to do.
A grunt escapes him when you rub him slightly over his dress pants, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, eyes still locked on yours. “You planned this didn't you?” you smile at that, your pretty lips closing around the straw of your drink as you take a sip, your foot pressing against his bulge harder.
Your gaze was trained on his hand, the one that was clutching the table with all its might (haha, get it), and you followed along the veins of his hand, up his forearms, to the point where they got lost under his shirt, the sleeves rolled up at his elbows. You licked your lips as you ran your eyes over his arms next, eyes hooded at the way the material of his shirt hugged his taut muscles. Finally, you looked up at him, enjoying the droplet of sweat falling down his temple, “I don't know what you mean,”
And Yagi knew he was fucked.
 ‹𝟹
Months later, you saunter over to Yagi’s office, pretty summer dress swirling as you walk, Yagi's lunch packed with a cute little bow on top, in hand. You knock on his door, not waiting for him to answer before you’re pulling the door open, walking in and pushing it closed behind you. Yagi’s eyes snap to your figure, one eyebrow raised, his gaze immediately softening once he realizes who you are, “Princess? What are you doing here?” 
You grin at him giddily, walking closer to his desk as he takes off his glasses running a hand down his face before he’s looking up at you with tired eyes- the corner of his lips quirking up despite his exhaustion.
“Brought you lunch-” his heart swells in his chest, pushing his chair back as he stands and walks around the table to stand in front of you, bending down to give your lips the softest kiss, his hand caressing your cheek. “You didn’t have to, pretty.”
“I wanted to. Besides, I missed you so much Toshi,” he coos down at your words and plants another kiss on your forehead, “I know sweetie, ‘m gonna be home in a few hours, yeah? Then I’ll be all yours,”
“But I need you, now.” you pout, hands coming up to rest on his pecs, fingers sliding under the collar of his shirt to play with his blond chest hairs, and you bite back a smile at the tiniest shiver he gives. “Sweetheart..” before he can say anything else you’re clutching his hand and pulling him with you, pushing him back to sit on his office chair again, and he’s looking up at you, bewildered.
Then you’re trailing a hand from your thigh up to your belly, only you’re slowly lifting your dress as you go. His jaw goes slack once his eyes are met with your bare, glistening pussy, his neck turning red. You whimper, circling your hips around nothing, dropping your other hand to rub two fingers aaall over your folds, gathering up your slick on your fingers. “See? Told you I need you,”
And Yagi can't complain when you push your wet fingers in his mouth, his moan getting muffled as he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his already hard cock twitching at the sight of you, all pretty and ready for him<3
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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spaceeoddity · 2 years
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As a verdict is possibly hours away, a sense of dread has been building in my stomach for what it will mean for Amber’s future, as well as all victims of intimate partner violence (IPV), particularly as women’s basic rights continue to be under attack in the United States. Like many people who are following the case, I have personal experiences with abuse. Much of my research focuses on IPV, specifically, the disparities in resources and services that are available for survivors to leave their abusers, such as economic, social, geographical barriers. It’s a topic which is deeply tied to my own personal experiences and academic career.
I initially was ambivalent to Amber Heard. Before I began to research the case, I was firmly in the "they both suck" camp, having only briefly glanced through articles. I started to pay more attention to the media coverage over the past six weeks and was really staggered by how Heard was being portrayed as a lying, crazy, gold-digging woman through narratives that were not only going unchallenged, but were heavily perpetuated in the public discourse. Even worse, that the abuse she experienced had been capitalized on by "true crime" junkies and mocked in TikTok videos and Youtube compilations. So I began watching the trial live and found that there was far more evidence and far more substantial evidence which shows that JD was the perpetrator of abuse within their relationship.
The evidence collected through JD's personal texts and emails show an early pattern of abuse. He exerted control over the clothes Amber wore and would become angry when she didn't dress "conservatively". He would consistently accuse her of having affairs with acquaintances, friends, and various co-stars, even with an openly gay director, Clive Barker. He didn't like that she was ambitious and would scorn her when she took opportunities to advance her career. He would constantly refer to her with misogynistic language. He also referred to Amber, an openly bisexual woman, as a “lesbian camp counsellor”. He messaged other men to discuss killing her through drowning and burning her, and then raping her burnt corpse to prove that she was truly dead. This all occurred while they were still dating. She was in her early 20s and he was in 50s. All of these coercive, paranoid, jealous, controlling behaviours are deeply and unequivocally abusive.
None of this includes the evidence which shows physical and sexual abuse. There are audio tapes in which he admits to headbutting her, so hard that she was concerned her nose was broken. In another recording, they discuss how her family and friends have seen her bruises, broken blood vessels, and bald spots from her hair being torn out of her scalp. Another shows him stating “I will smack the ugly c**t before I let her in.” A video shows him aggressively breaking and smashing furniture near her. One interaction reveals that Stephen Deuters, his assistant, begged her to come back to him after her assaulted her on a plane in front of his bodyguards, pleading to her that JD was remorseful for his actions. Heard also has stated he sexually assaulted her multiple times. Remember, he previously discussed violently raping her in those infamous messages to Paul Bettany.
As for witnesses, several testified to seeing bruises on her numerous times, including JD's witnesses, such as their marriage counsellor. A makeup artist, Melanie Inglessis, testified to covering swelling on her lip and two black eyes. Raquel Pennington saw several injuries, including bloodied bald spots on her head, a swollen nose, and cut lip. She expressed fear JD would eventually kill Amber if she didn't leave. Josh Drew also testified to seeing her with injuries, including black eyes, a swollen cheek, and a busted lip. iO Tillet Wright (who Depp misgenders throughout his testimony) recalled hearing JD assault Amber and scream “oh, you think I hit you? You think I fucking hit you? What if I peel your fucking hair back". iO then called 911. This was the incident which led Heard to file for a divorce and a restraining order, two days afterwards. It is worth noting that Pennington, Drew, and Wright all corroborated this incident in their depositions, as did iO’s 2016 essay.
Is she guilty of fighting back? Absolutely. She never lied about doing so, even dating back to her 2016 deposition. However, fighting back against a man who has beaten you, sexually assaulted you, controlled your career, finances, and who you can associate with does not equate to being an abuser. It’s simply surviving. And yes, I’ve heard those audio tapes, the in which she’s expresses her incredulity at him for stating their fights were fair when she feared he would kill her.
His case has relied upon deeply misogynistic narratives to discredit both her claims and her character. She was after his money all along, even though she refused the 30 million dollar fortune she was legally entitled to, as there was no prenup. She painted on bruises, even though a makeup artist testified to covering up her swollen lip and two black eyes. She cut off his finger, even though multiple texts and even an audio recording showcase him admitting to doing it in the midst of a bender. She didn't donate her money, even though she and the organization created a 10 year plan for her to make yearly payments (in my personal opinion, what she does with her money either way is nobody's fucking business). Also worth noting, an ACLU representative testified to her being ahead of schedule until Depp began suing her. She made up a hoax, because she documented her abuse - as we advise all people who are in abusive situations to do. She's a liar, because women are inherently deceitful liars.
None of the evidence that JD's attorneys presented has proven that she defamed him through her op-ed piece. That's likely because their goal was never to prove that her article - which never explicitly references him or their relationship - impacted his career. Those who watched the trial will know, Tracy Jacobs, his agent of 30 years stated that it was his drug and alcohol abuse, anger issues, chronic lateness (7 or 8 hours late to set each day), and unprofessionalism that led to his career decline. Film crews grew tired of working around these problems, and eventually, so did Hollywood. Tina Newman, a Disney Corporate Representative who worked on POTC stated no one knew of Amber’s op-ed until Depp sued her. 
The trial was always meant to humiliate, shame, and terrorize her. We are witnessing in a powerful man terrorize his ex-wife through the legal system, all while the world makes TikToks of her sexual assault testimony. JD has a documented history of violence and is due for another court date after assaulting a crew member of the set of City of Lies. To quote his own words, “If I’m angry and I’ve got to lash out or hit somebody, I’m going to do it and I don’t care what the repercussions are. Anger doesn’t pay rent, it’s gotta go. It’s gotta be evicted.”
I don't know whether Amber Heard will win her case. We’re witnessing a radical right-wing political swing to control and criminalize women’s bodies with Roe v. Wade under attack right now. To be blunt, I have very little faith in the justice system and that a jury - in Virginia of all places - will rule in favour of an abused woman over her charismatic, powerful ex-husband. However, I think it's important to remember that Amber did everything right, that is, everything we tell women to do. She documented her abuse, left her abusive partner, and was granted a restraining order - and she's continuing to be punished for doing so. If Amber, a privileged white woman with access to economic resources, is still struggling to escape her abuser, how can we expect women without those privileges to?
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hollybell51 · 1 year
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Don't bet on it
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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader
Supernatural (2005)
Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)
Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.
Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.
Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.
Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…
“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?” 
There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful. 
“(Y/N)?” 
Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine. 
“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?” 
Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?” 
“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added. 
“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.” 
He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.” 
You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression. 
“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly. 
“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once. 
“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink. 
Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily. 
You smiled. “Lemonade.” 
He nodded slowly.
“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently. 
He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter. 
“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly. 
“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.” 
Despite yourself, you laughed. 
Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face. 
You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.” 
“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip. 
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.” 
“Thankyou,” he said after a moment. 
“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left. 
You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them? 
“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.” 
Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it. 
Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 
“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you. 
“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?” 
“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing. 
You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing. 
But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone. 
“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows. 
“Sam said this was a double,” you told him. 
“It is.” 
“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.” 
“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.” 
“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright” 
The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking. 
You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you. 
“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.” 
“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?” 
“No, we’ve got two singles.” 
“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.” 
“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.” 
“I know, but–” 
“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.” 
“What’s that supposed to–” 
He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.” 
You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed. 
By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?” 
“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.” 
Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant. 
You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now. 
“Would you like some help?” 
You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you. 
He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.” 
“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.” 
“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched. 
Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault. 
He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab. 
“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly. 
“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.” 
Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 
“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.” 
“Should I keep going?” 
You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 
“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad. 
“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead. 
He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.” 
“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”
Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.” 
You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you. 
“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?” 
He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer. 
His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).” 
Oh. Oh. There it was.
He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. 
Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his. 
He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade. 
It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound. 
It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright. 
You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it. 
“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.” 
“Hm?”
You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses. 
“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing. 
He looked up, frowning. “What?” 
“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.” 
He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes. 
“Is this alright?” he asked. 
You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside. 
“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive. 
You nodded. “Are you?”  
He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters. 
Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused. 
“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips. 
“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.
“Hm?” 
“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering. 
“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.” 
He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…” 
Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed. 
You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.” 
“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.” 
“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away. 
“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?” 
He nodded. 
You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?” 
“Please,” he murmured. 
You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him? 
Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him. 
Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment. 
“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. 
“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.” 
You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?” 
At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked. 
You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.” 
He stared. “Do you want to?” 
You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath… 
Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.
His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?” 
Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.” 
A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you. 
“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life. 
Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?” 
You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”
“Touch me?” 
“Mhm.”  
He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.
“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that. 
You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful. 
It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.
“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake. 
“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.” 
You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning. 
His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before. 
He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to. 
“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that. 
“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out. 
You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…” 
“But?”
“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled. 
His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.” 
“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes. 
“Mhm?” 
“Are you sure?” 
“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?” 
“Yeah, alright.” 
“Alright?” 
He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.” 
You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip. 
Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat. 
“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps. 
“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?” 
You smiled. “Magic word?” 
“Please,” he practically growled. 
Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute. 
“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–” 
“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.  
“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.” 
The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 
“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade. 
You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely. 
“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).” 
“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair. 
“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.” 
For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless. 
He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.” 
You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright. 
Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face. 
As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting. 
Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up. 
“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?” 
“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”
“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?” 
He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.” 
Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.” 
“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?
You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning. 
He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on. 
Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath. 
“Is this alright?” he asked. 
You nodded. “Mhm.” 
“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body. 
“Mhm.” 
“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most. 
“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.” 
“I want you to feel–” 
You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?” 
“But I’m–” 
“Cas.” 
He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch. 
“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”
He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you. 
“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.” 
This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy. 
“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit. 
Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves. 
“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked. 
“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face. 
“Yes, Cas, just like that.” 
He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily. 
“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.” 
“Is this alright?” he asked mildly. 
“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good? 
“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully. 
“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps. 
“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?” 
“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing. 
He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said. 
It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.
And God, you wanted him to fuck you. 
“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine. 
Cas froze immediately. 
“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.” 
“Is this not–” 
“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs. 
Cas frowned.
“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small. 
His eyebrows shot halfway up his face. 
“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.” 
Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.” 
“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged. 
He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable. 
“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.” 
“I don’t want to squash you.” 
You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.” 
“How do you know?” 
“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.” 
He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?” 
You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out. 
“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.” 
“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed. 
You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.
You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock. 
“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours. 
“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?” 
He swallowed, his eyes dark. 
“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.” 
He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked. 
You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” 
Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide. 
“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?” 
“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time. 
“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?” 
He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name. 
He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.  
“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that. 
Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 
“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs. 
“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!” 
You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra. 
He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer. 
You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm. 
“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment. 
“Hm?” 
“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.” 
“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.” 
You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be. 
You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch. 
You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat. 
When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed. 
He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked. 
“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”
Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?” 
After a moment, he nodded. 
It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again. 
“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.” 
Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?” 
“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty. 
You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.” 
“Should I not have?”
“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.” 
“You don’t?”
You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him. 
“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much. 
You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”
You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.
“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile. 
“Hello.” 
You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”
He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).” 
“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”
“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” 
“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.” 
“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.” 
“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully. 
You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…” 
He waited, watching you stumble over your words. 
“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely. 
“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.” 
You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang. 
“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen. 
“What do you want?” you growled. 
“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?” 
“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.” 
He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?” 
You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked. 
He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden. 
“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam. 
“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt. 
“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.” 
“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”  
“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.” 
“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question. 
You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”
Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier. 
“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point. 
“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!” 
You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. 
“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing. 
Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.” 
“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam? 
“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck. 
Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.” 
“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. 
He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?” 
Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything. 
“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.” 
“No, it wasn’t the waitress.” 
Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.” 
“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared. 
“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.” 
Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.” 
“No? Who else?” 
Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now. 
Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.  
“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.” 
It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all. 
“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas. 
“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.” 
“No, I mean–” 
You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.” 
“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?” 
“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug. 
Cas frowned. “Told him what?” 
“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!” 
Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.” 
“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?” 
“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas. 
You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.” 
“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.” 
You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?” 
“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.” 
“Mhm, back at Stanford–” 
“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.” 
Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.” 
“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.” 
“Me too,” Cas added solemnly. 
You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back. 
“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.” 
Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”
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coqvttes · 7 months
Text
୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝DOLLED UP!❞ ― CARLOS O.
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― ꒰ CORRUPTION ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―
୨୧˚ synopsis: after making you wait nearly two months to lose your virginity, you surprise him in lingerie that you know he can't resist corrupting you in.
୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, virginity loss, lingerie, p in v, petnames, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!carlos, creampie, teasing, fingering, spitting, some aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything!
୨୧˚ wc: 2k (my bad lol this is not proof-read)
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its been nearly two months since you've been with carlos. everything has been wonderful, but the only problem is that you're a virgin, and he still hasn't fucked you yet. you know he is the one, but you just can't bring yourself to ask him properly. you've hinted at him, but he brushes it off. he just doesn't want to make you feel like he's forcing it on you because you're not ready. being faint-hearted didn't help either; you were too shy to ask him, and you've had to make do with what he'd give you. lingering touches, messy kisses, and filthy words that all but led to nothing. he'd claim it was too early or that you weren't ready yet, and you'd just nod, too meek to protest.
but now, you don't think you can wait any longer as you plop down on your bed, your eyes boring into the ceiling. you turn your head to the side, and your gaze averts to the pretty white lacey lingerie set sitting on your duvet that you had bought just for carlos. a little surprise for him. but you'd never had the chance to wear it for him because you weren't ready? well, now you are, so you pick up your phone to dial his number, and he picks up after a couple rings.
"carlossss, can you over? pleeeease?" you whine, lying on your tummy on your soft bed. you kick your feet up on the bed as you plead with him. you can hear his smile as he speaks.
"sure, baby, what's up?" you heart aches as you hear his gruff voice from the other side of the phone. gosh, you're so needy, you start to feel wet from just hearing him.
"mmm, nothing, just miss you and i wanna show you something.." you know, if you tell him your true intentions, he'll probably protest.
"show me something, huh? you’re so cute. what have you been up to too, hm, princess?" he teases, completely oblivious to your little surprise waiting for him. you let out a soft, mischievous giggle.
"it's a surprise! you have to come over to see ittt."
"alright alright, i'll see you in 30? try not to miss me too much, hm? i know it's hard," he chuckles, and you can't help but grin and roll your eyes.
"don't be too long."
— ୨୧ —
it's been around 20 minutes, and you're all dolled up in the set, kneeling on the bed, anxiously waiting for him. your eyes are trained on the doorway, excitement coursing through your body. you wonder how he'll react and what he'll say. you're snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the front door open, and you recognize his heavy footsteps as he makes his way to your bedroom.
as the door swings open, his breath hitches, and he freezes at the doorway of the bedroom, gawking at you as you sit prettily in the middle of the bed. there you were. dolled up in a gorgeous white lacey set, barely covering anything, and you just looked so adorable in it.
“fuck, baby—“ he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence as he stares at your tits that are practically spilling out of the skimpy bra you wear. your innocent doe eyes gazing right back into his own, nervously.
“do you like it?" your voice is quiet and meek; his heart melts at your question, and he can’t even find the right words to say. you reach out a hand to him, desperate to be close to him, and he finds himself moving closer to you instinctively.
“i love it, baby. i love you,” he says, walking closer until he stands at the foot of the bed. he takes your hand and pulls you close. leaning down, he presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. you moan into his mouth, your other hand moving up to grasp his hair. kissing carlos always leaves you breathless. the way his lips capture yours just perfectly, the way his stubble tickles your soft face, and the way his hand slides up to cup your cheek tenderly. he pulls away from you with a smile on his face.
“i’m ready, carlos, wan’ you to make love to me." you whisper. his breath hitches at your words, and suddenly you're helping him tug his cargos down. he pulls his compression shirt over his head and drops it onto the bedroom floor. the matress dips slightly with the weight of him as he rests one knee on the bed. carlos then reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, and he slips it off of you. a shy blush adorns your face as you reveal yourself to him for the first time. he lowers his head to press gentle kisses over your tits, and you both moan in unison when his warm tongue glides over your sensitive bud. your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing him into your chest desperately.
"you're so beautiful," he says, leaning up to kiss you once more.
he grins against your lips as his hand slowly slides up your inner thigh. he then toys with the band of your lacy panties before sliding them to the side. he backs up and lowers himself on the bed so you can feel his hot breath on your glistening cunt. he leans in, and you think he's going to kiss your heat, but instead, he spits on it! bringing his rough palm to cup your wet cunt, you let out a pathetic whimper. you must be so needy for him, he thinks. he gathers up your arousal before pushing his middle and ring fingers inside you, groaning at how wet your cunt is. you feel yourself instantly weaken as his fingers enter you. from all the sensitivity that had been building up, your back arches off the bed, your head falling back into the pillows. a grin adorns his features, and as he watches your every reaction, he curls his thick fingers inside of your cunt before pumping them in and out of you in a slow rhythm, hitting the spot inside of you that makes your vision blur and your jaw hang open.
"mmm! faster!" you whine, writhing in the sheets, desperate for release.
"say please, princess."
"please!" you plead, glossy eyes gazing down at him. how could he deny you when you begged him like that? his calloused thumb gently rubs at your bud in circular motions, further stimulating you, and you feel your release wash over you in an instant, your thighs trembling violently as you mewl out his name. as you come down from your high you catch him staring at you in awe.
gosh, he's not even sure if you're really that innocent with the way you’re testing his patience right now. he's trying his hardest not to pin you down and fuck you completely dumb with the way your finger rests on your plump bottom lip. the way you rub your legs together. and the way you give him those pretty "fuck me" eyes. maybe its because you've been needing him for so long. depraved of his touch. but it doesn't matter because he loves it. and he's going to show you just how much he does.
and before you know it, he’s nudging the tip of his throbbing dick against your overstimulated, slick entrance. your mouth drops open slightly when you gasp at the stretch as he pushes his length inside your warmth. struggling cunt barely being able to swallow all of him as your grip on his muscular bicep tightens and your brows furrow. he sinks his entire length in with a low groan and notices your discomfort before he coos.
"shit, baby, it will feel good soon, i promise." you nod and he starts building up a good pace, pushing himself in and out of you sensually, grinding against your clit a few times to make you feel good.
he lifts your legs for you with his palm resting on the underside of your thighs for a better angle. the pleasure begins to replace the harsh sting of the stretch, and you try to suppress your needy moans by covering your mouth with your palm. but carlos has none of it, and he pulls away your arm, pinning it next to your head.
"let me hear you, doll."
he then makes it his mission to draw out all of your gorgeous noises by pounding into you faster and harder. as he picks up the pace, you can't bring yourself to be quiet anymore, and soon soft whimpers and mewls spill from your lips, and he swears he's never heard prettier sounds. his gaze is now fixated on the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in. what a lewd sight.
"is it too rough, sweetheart?" he asks, as he quickly remembers that this is indeed your first time, not wanting to go too hard on you because he knows it must hurt. you shake your head and slide your hand up to his cheek.
"i-i like it-" you interrupt yourself with a moan as you feel him hit a particular spot inside you that has your mind going numb. wanton moans spill from your pretty lips as his hips snap against yours; the sweat rolling down his abs makes him look like a god right now, and you just want to kiss him so badly.
"kiss me," you whimper, hands clinging to his broad shoulders for support. your needy lips beg to feel his as he lets out a soft chuckle before leaning down to press his lips to yours. he pours his passion out for you into the kiss, and you whimper into his mouth, tongues clashing against each other. when he pulls away, you find yourself breathless and your lips swollen. he continues to thrust into you, and your hands move up to grope on your soft tits, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples. he nearly cums at the sight and replaces your hands with one of his own, further stimulating you as you start to feel overwhelmed by the pressure in your core.
"fuck, just like that, doll," he moans, feeling his release nearing as well. your wet heat clenches around him so perfectly that the momentary feeling causes a lapse in judgement, and he whispers in the heat of the moment.
“fuck, baby, shoulda fucked you sooner. gonna ruin you so bad, doll."
as if your body responds naturally to him, your mind goes blank, and your moans grow high-pitched as you feel the entire force of your release wash over you completely. he releases his grip on your thighs, and your legs close around his waist, pulling him flush against you, keeping him close as he releases inside of you, letting out a guttural moan. he drops his head to your shoulder and litters your collarbone with gentle kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts earlier.
"didn't go too hard on ya did i? how do you feel, hm? i know i'm good," he teases, pulling out of you slowly. wow, even after fucking your brains out, he remains cocky. but you love it and you shake your head at his words.
"thank you," you breathe out. he smiles as he's reaching for his briefs before pulling them on. he caresses your cheek tenderly.
"you don't need to thank me, gorgeous," he chuckles lightly before dissappearing into the bathroom and returning to you with a cloth.
"mm i love youuu," you say as he begins to clean you up, slipping off your panties and wiping you down with the slightly damp cloth.
"love you too, pretty girl," he says before snatching your slick-covered panties from the duvet and stuffing them in his pocket.
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!
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dandylovesturtles · 11 months
Text
listen ok I know shit is dire in CAS land (by @somerandomdudelmao) but I had this stupid idea and it's a slow day at work and I type fast so here you go I didn't proofread this at all
I'm sorry I made it silly
Massive spoilers if you haven't read the new CAS update
...
"I can fix it," is a much easier thing to say than to do. Casey's thinking that as he takes long, quick strides through the lair, turning the problem over in his head as fast as he can. He hopes Uncle Tello can't hear the parts of his thoughts that are in a panic, but based on their conversation before he probably can.
Uncle Tello doesn't say anything about it, and Casey kind of wishes he would, just for the reassurance that he's still there.
He's so absorbed in his thoughts he doesn't notice Donnie (the younger Donnie, the physical Donnie) standing in front of him until it's too late and he's already collided with his back. Coffee spills everywhere, though thankfully it only splashes his plastron where he can't get burned.
Younger Donnie whirls, something distinctly murderous in his eye that feels so weird and wrong directed at Casey. It cools only slightly when Donnie processes it wasn't one of his brothers bumping into him, and somehow that feels just as weird, that Donnie has to readjust his feelings to accommodate the unfamiliarity. (He's not family, not to this Donnie.)
"Is something chasing you?" Donnie snaps.
"Uh... no-"
"Is there a fire?"
"No, but-"
"Do you need glasses?"
"I don't... think so?"
"Then watch where you're going!"
He spins on his heel and marches off, toward the kitchen to get more coffee, Casey assumes. For a moment he's left too off kilter and dumbfounded to remember what he was doing.
Then Uncle Tello's voice in his head startles him out of it. What just happened?
Oh, uh... I ran into the other version of you.
Ran into?
Literally. I spilled his coffee.
Ah, and he didn't take it well.
And Casey knows he shouldn't stop for this. Casey knows they may be on limited time and he has to fix this and Uncle Tello shouldn't have to listen to his whining about things that don't matter.
But he's been holding in so many feelings for so long and even if it's just in his head, hearing his uncle's (dad's) voice makes it rush out of him before he can stop it.
I don't think he likes me very much. I touched his shell the other day and he snapped at me. I got mad at him when he touched your tech and that made him mad, too. I don't know how to talk to him.
He doesn't really know how to talk to any of them, is the thing. It used to be the easiest thing in the world, and now it's a wall he hasn't yet learned how to scale.
He can feel his thoughts spiraling against his will. He doesn't have time for this, but the grief and the lack of sleep and the lack of easy affection are all mixing together with the weirdness of it all into a dangerous Molotov cocktail of emotions and he's not sure what will light the fuse.
Casey Jr, says Uncle Tello's voice.
Uncle Tello?
Do you want to see something really funny?
Casey can't help but make a strangled noise at the back of his throat, one that isn't a laugh but isn't a cry either. Something funny?
Yeah. Trust me, it'll be hilarious. Go to my lab.
Casey hesitates. He doesn't let me in there without him...
I feel confident I outrank him. Wait, how old is he?
Sixteen.
Ahhh, that explains it. I know I'm an absolute delight now, but at that age I could be a real pill.
It startles an actual laugh out of Casey. Without arguing further, he rushes to Donnie's lab, quick before he can finish brewing his coffee.
How do I get in?
Is this the subway?
Yeah.
Okay, there's a manual override for the voice lock hidden in one of the wall panels, should be... three to the left, middle of the door. Give that a good knock. Shave and a haircut~
Casey does as directed, and the panel slides back, revealing a flat, glossy keypad.
What's the access code? he asks, feeling like they're on some secret mission now. Maybe it doesn't fall into what people in this time consider normal, but to Casey this is standard stuff. He falls into the rhythm of it like a well loved song.
Oh one one four twenty one twenty seven, says Uncle Tello.
Casey punches it in and the door slides open. He slips inside and hits the button to close and lock the door behind him. Donnie still hasn't returned; the mission is proceeding as planned.
Wasn't that the code for one of the weapons lockers in the old- at base?
Yes, it was. Poor security protocol to reuse codes, I know, but I'm partial to that one.
What is it?
Atomic Lass's birth date. Uncle Tello pauses, then adds, Has he shown you any of the old Atomic Lass episodes of Jupiter Jim?
Uh, no...
Ah, continuing to fail my already low expectations, Teen Tello. Never mind, we'll worry about that later on.
Later on. Right, they shouldn't be doing this, they should be trying to fix Uncle Tello, they should be-
To my computer, Casey Jr! I can't type so you'll have to do it for me.
Uncle Tello's voice pulls him out of his reverie, and he hurries to do as he's told.
Uncle Tello walks him through passwords and then through navigating the OS. It's old and out of date compared to what they had in the future (Donatello's custom OS, better than the hacks at Apple and Microsoft, or so he said), but when Casey had called it old and out of date Donnie had gotten mad about that, too.
Ada Lovelace, this is old, says Uncle Tello's voice now, and incredibly Casey laughs again.
But they find what he's looking for and then input a series of commands into the command line. Casey isn't familiar with all of them, but if he had to guess, they just sent a video from late 2019 to every device in the lair.
Alright, mission accomplished, time to retreat, says Uncle Tello's voice, and he hurries out of the lab, just in time to hear a ping from the phone in his pocket.
He pulls it out and watches the video. It's Donnie, only slightly younger than the teen Casey now lives with, adjusting the camera before grinning and posing in front of it. He's in his lab, though a different one than the one here in the subway. He looks cocky.
He moves further back from the camera so his entire body is framed in its lens, then steps onto a skateboard. He glides in a circle for a moment, then jumps to try and do some kind of trick. Casey doesn't know the name of it, but what he does know is that Donnie's feet get caught in his board, and he ends up tumbling to the floor, crashing in an undignified heap, arms splayed out and face smooshed against the concrete.
It shouldn't be funny.
(It's pretty funny.)
It seems the others echo this sentiment, because suddenly Casey can hear laughter erupting from elsewhere in the lair.
"OMIGOSH! Barry, you gotta watch this!"
"HAHAHAHA BRO ATE SHIT!"
"Hah... Don't worry Donnie, I'm sure you'll get it next ti-hahahahaha!"
There's the sound of scurrying feet, and then Donnie slides into the hall, glaring at Casey who forgot he should be moving away from the crime scene.
"YOU!" he screeches.
Casey freezes. What is he supposed to say? What excuse does he have? The you in my head told me to do it? Yeah right.
Casey does the only sensible thing and turns to run.
Casey Jr?
Uncle Tello!?
What's happening now?
The other you is after me!
Oh. Well. Better run fast.
Casey turns on the speed, sprinting down the corridor and toward the only exit he knows, Donnie hot on his trail.
Why is every younger version of you so scary!?
Oh please, there's no way that scrawny, barely pubescent mess is scary. Have you ever heard his voice crack?
...Well, yeah...
See? Hilarious. And we didn't even have to pull up my browser history.
Okay, but none of this helped us fix anything.
Ah well. One problem at a time.
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