#DYING OVER THERE THANKS. HOLDS HEAD IN HANDS

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Where's My Chocolate?! | LN4

Summary: Where Lando has a massive chocolate addiction but his trainer put a ban on it. How's a man supposed to live without his Kinder Joys? or his Kinder Maxis? or his Kinder Eggs? or his-

LANDO NORRIS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Lando was practically vibrating with excitement as he unlocked the door to his flat. It was the off-season, the glorious time when he could finally eat what he wanted without Jon breathing down his neck about "his unhealthy eating habits" and "lack of diet discipline." The crown jewel of his freedom? The stash of Kinder chocolates meticulously hoarded over the year.

He burst into the kitchen, opened his sacred candy drawer, and froze. The drawer was half-empty. Half-empty.

Lando stared in disbelief, his hands gripping the edge of the counter like he was about to faint. He began rifling through the contents, counting and recounting the chocolates as though they’d magically multiply.

"Babe!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Where’s my chocolate?"

Y/n strolled into the kitchen, holding a cup of tea, completely unfazed by the brewing storm. "Hi to you too, Lando."

He spun around, clutching a Kinder Maxi like a lifeline. "Don’t ‘hi’ me. My stash is gone. Did you—" He gasped dramatically. "Did you eat it?"

She blinked at him. "What? No!"

"Then who? The Easter Bunny?" he shrieked. "It was full last week!"

Sipping her tea, she said casually, "Oh, Jon called."

Lando’s face went pale. "Jon? My trainer, Jon?"

"Yep," she said, setting her mug down. "He told me to keep an eye on your candy consumption. Said something about ‘self-control’ and ‘preventing cavities.’ Apparently, you have a chocolate limit now."

Lando stared at her like she’d just betrayed him in the worst way possible. "You’re lying."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"No," he said, his voice rising to a dramatic wail. "You can’t do this to me! I’ve been waiting all year for this! This is my moment!"

"Your moment?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Lando, it’s just chocolate."

"It’s not just chocolate! It’s freedom! It’s happiness!" He dropped to his knees, clutching a Kinder Egg like it was a dying bird. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!"

"Alright, Shakespeare," she said, stepping over him to close the drawer. "Get up. You’re not a toddler."

But Lando’s resolve was already solidifying. He wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

That night, Y/n woke to the sound of faint rustling. Bleary-eyed, she reached over for Lando, only to find his side of the bed empty. Squinting in the dim light, she followed the noise to the kitchen.

There he was, crouched in front of the candy drawer like some sort of gremlin, surrounded by half-opened drawers and cabinets. He was whispering to himself, "Where is it? Where did she put it?"

"Lando," she said, crossing her arms.

He froze, slowly turning his head to look at her. His eyes were wide and wild, his hair sticking up in all directions. "Oh. Hey. Fancy seeing you here."

She pointed at the mess around him. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, night yoga?"

"Yoga," she repeated flatly.

"Yeah, it’s great for flexibility," he said, attempting a stretch that ended with him knocking over a jar of flour.

"Get back to bed, Lando," she said, grabbing him by the arm.

The next day, Lando devised Plan B. He called Oscar.

"Mate, you have to help me," Lando whispered into the phone like a spy in enemy territory.

"What now?" Oscar asked, already regretting picking up.

"She’s hidden my chocolates. All of them. I’m dying here."

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"Smuggle some Kinder Eggs to me. Discreetly."

Oscar sighed. "Absolutely not. She’ll kill me."

"Oscar, please! I’m losing my mind, mate!"

"And I’d like to live, thanks."

Lando groaned, hanging up dramatically.

The coup de grâce happened at Max and Kelly’s house. They had invited them both over for lunch, and for a brief moment, everything was going fine. That is, until Penelope came running into the room, tears streaming down her face.

"Uncle Lala stole my chocolates!" she wailed.

All heads turned to the pantry, where Lando was caught red-handed, stuffing his face with what was unmistakably Penelope’s stash. His cheeks bulged like a hamster’s, and he froze mid-bite when he saw everyone staring.

"Lando," Max said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That’s for my kid."

"I’m...uh...testing for poison?" Lando offered, his words muffled by chocolate. He was already edging toward the door, trying to shield his loot from view.

"Seriously?" Y/n said, marching over, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You’re stealing from a child?"

Lando clutched the Kinder Joys tighter, his eyes darting around the room like he was calculating an escape route. "You don’t get it! These chocolates—" he paused, clutching the candy dramatically to his chest, "—are essential. I need them more than Penelope does."

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "You’re a grown man, Lando! Have some self-control for once."

"Uncle Lala should go to jail for stealing my chocolates!" Penelope said with all the righteous fury of a five-year-old, pointing an accusing finger at Lando.

"If loving chocolate is a crime, then lock me up!" he declared, crouching lower and hissing dramatically at anyone who dared approach him.

"Oh my god," Max groaned, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m witnessing this."

Kelly crossed her arms, glaring at Lando. "You’re eating a five-year-old’s Christmas stash, Lando. Have you no shame?"

Penelope, who had been standing quietly until now, stomped her tiny foot. "Uncle Lala, give it back! Mommy says stealing is bad!"

Lando froze, looking genuinely wounded. "I’m not stealing," he said earnestly. "I’m redistributing the wealth." He paused, then added with a whisper, "For the greater good."

Max raised an eyebrow. "You’ve lost your mind. Put the chocolates down."

"Never!" Lando shouted, clutching the stash tighter and attempting to back into the pantry.

"Uncle Lala!" Penelope shrieked, rushing forward to tug on his arm. "You’re a meanie!"

"Lando," Kelly said, exasperated, "Give P her chocolates back please"

"I can’t!" Lando wailed dramatically, holding up an empty wrapper like it was his salvation. "I’ve been oppressed for weeks. Weeks! Do you know what it’s like to have Jon ruin your life?"

"I’m going to call Jon," she threatened, pulling out her phone.

"No! Not Jon!" Lando cried, dropping to his knees and scrambling to hide behind Max. "Anything but that! Please, I’ll do anything! I’ll eat kale. I’ll run an extra five miles tomorrow. Just don’t call Jon!"

Max stared down at him, torn between amusement and second-hand embarrassment. "Lando, mate, I think you’ve hit rock bottom."

Lando peeked out from behind Max’s legs, his chocolate-smeared face a picture of desperation. "This isn’t rock bottom. Rock bottom is no chocolate at all."

Penelope crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "Uncle Lala, you’re being very silly."

"You’re right," Kelly said, scooping up Penelope. "Lando, apologize to my daughter and step away from the pantry."

He clutched one last Kinder Joy, giving it a sorrowful look. "I’m sorry, P. But you’ll understand one day. Love makes you do crazy things." He kissed the chocolate dramatically before surrendering it to Kelly.

The lowest point came a few nights later when she woke to Lando’s sleep-talking.

"Kinder Maxi...so creamy...so sweet..." he mumbled, drooling onto his pillow.

She stared at him, half amused, half exasperated.

By Christmas, she couldn’t take it anymore. The sight of Lando moping around the house like a sad puppy had broken her resolve. So, on Christmas morning, she led him to the kitchen, where a decadent chocolate cake sat waiting on the counter, accompanied by a wicker basket brimming with his favorite chocolates—Kinder Maxis, Kinder Eggs, and everything else she could get her hands on.

Lando froze in the doorway, his eyes wide as they darted from her to the cake. "What’s this?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe.

"Merry Christmas," she said, her smile soft but brimming with excitement. "It’s all for you."

His gaze flickered between her and the cake, his expression shifting from disbelief to pure, unfiltered joy. "You… you did this? For me?"

She nodded, and his lips parted slightly, his eyes shimmering as if he might actually cry. "You’re the best girlfriend ever," he choked out before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her as he swiped some of the chocolate frosting.

She laughed against his shoulder, the warmth of his embrace making her cheeks flush. "Do you love me more than chocolate now?" she teased, her voice light and playful.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his face alight with a cheeky grin. "That’s debatable," he said, dragging the words out as if he were seriously contemplating it.

Her eyes narrowed in mock offense as she gasped and pretended to reach for the cake. "Fine, I’ll just eat this myself—"

"No!" he yelped, grabbing her waist before she could step away. With a quick, smooth motion, he spun her around, his laughter filling the kitchen. "Okay, okay! I love you more."

She tilted her head, her lips quirking upward. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice daring but soft.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Lando’s grin faded, replaced by an expression so earnest it made her heart skip a beat. He stepped closer, his hands sliding up from her waist to cradle her face gently. His thumbs brushed against her cheekbones as he leaned in, his gaze locking with hers.

When his lips finally met hers, it was like warmth spreading through her veins. The kiss started tender, his lips soft and lingering as if he were savoring the moment. But then he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and the tenderness gave way to something more fervent. His hands moved to her hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together until there was no space left between them.

Her hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatshirt as she melted into him. She could feel his heart beating rapidly under her palm, matching the rhythm of her own. The faint taste of chocolate lingered on his lips, making the kiss feel all the more intoxicating.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady themselves. Her cheeks were flushed, and Lando’s eyes sparkled with a mix of giddiness and something deeper.

"Alright, you win," she said, laughing softly as she looked up at him. Her voice was teasing, but her eyes held a warmth that mirrored his own.

Lando grinned, his dimples making an appearance as he leaned in to peck her lips again, quick and sweet. "How did you get Jon to agree to this?" he asked, his voice still slightly breathless as he glanced toward the cake.

She smirked, stepping back to grab a fork from the counter. "What Jon doesn’t know won’t hurt him."

His laughter was loud and unrestrained, echoing through the kitchen. "You rebel. I love it."

She handed him the fork, watching as he eagerly sliced into the cake. "Keep up with your training," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter, "and I might sneak you some chocolates now and then."

"Deal," he said, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth with a contented hum. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste before looking at her with a wide, chocolate-smeared smile. "Best Christmas ever."

[lovie-bugzz]

goodnight ┊sirius black

pairing - bsf!sirius x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - You wake up from a nightmare, not being able to sleep. So you go to your best friend Sirius for comfort. Still not being able to sleep, Sirius claims he knows the perfect way to get you to sleep…

contains - smut, soft dom!Sirius, swearing, fingering, female orgasm, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial(sort of)

word count - 4627

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I woke up with a start, shooting up in my bed with a gasp, my eyes shooting open as I panted heavily. My heart was racing, my body was sweating profusely, and I was shaking.

I haven’t had a nightmare this bad since I was a kid, but recently they’ve been happening more frequently as the wizarding war gets more intense. Seeing the terrifying and awful things that are happening in the world written on the daily prophet everyday has taken a toll on me.

I was scared all the time. It felt like all it took was one wrong move and my friends and I would be gone, just like that.

Once I steadied my heartbeat, I laid back down, letting out a sigh. I closed my eyes again, trying to get back to sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see were flashes from my nightmare, all of my friends dying at the hands of the dark lord.

I sat up once more, thinking for a moment before getting out of bed, grabbing my wand, and leaving my dorm. I quickly but quietly walked down the girls dormitory stairs, and went up the boys stairs.

I found myself standing in front of the marauders dorm, after a moment I pointed my wand at the doorknob and whispered, “Alohomora.” before twisting the handle and walking in.

I was sort of surprised to see all of the boys sound asleep since usually they'd be up causing mischief, so I carefully closed and locked the door behind me.

I tiptoed over to Sirius’ bed, chuckling quietly to myself as I peaked through his curtains and saw his sleeping position. His black hair wildly strewn across his face, while he held tightly onto one of his pillows, soft snores falling from his lips.

I admired him for a moment longer before moving the curtain aside so I could reach down and nudge his shoulder. “Sirius… Sirius…” I whispered.

The boy let out a soft grumble as he stirred a bit, before his eyelids slowly fluttered open, his sleepy gaze landing on me standing over him. His brows furrowed as he let out a yawn, "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy from just waking up.

“I… I had a nightmare. I can't get back to sleep.” I told him, shifting on my feet. Sirius was the only person who knew about my nightmares, though I never spoke in detail about them, which he respected.

His sleepy expression softened when he heard my words, concern etched onto his face as he studied my expression. He had been worried about me ever since my nightmares started. Sirius sat up fully and pushed the blankets off of him, “C'mere.” He said, patting the spot next to him on the bed for me.

I smiled gratefully and instantly slipped through his curtains, and crawled under his covers, curling into his bare chest. “Thank you…” I whispered to him as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side.

He hummed in response, wrapping his other arm around me as well and holding me tightly against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. He pressed a delicate kiss to the top of my head while one of his hands started gently rubbing my back.

"No need to thank me, darling." He whispered softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily.

I felt so safe in his arms, it's been a while since we've had a sleepover together, the last time was probably in our 3rd year, which was 3 years ago as now we are in 6th year. I let out a deep breath against his chest, feeling calmer now that I was in his arms.

Sirius smiled against my hair, he knew how much I loved and craved physical affection, especially in times like these where I was upset. He started tracing patterns along my back with his fingers, enjoying the feeling of having me in his arms again after a while.

"I missed this…" He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded my head against him with a small content smile on my face, as I mumbled, “Yeah… me too.”

He hummed softly as he continued tracing patterns on my back, occasionally moving up to run his fingers through my hair. He looked down at me, noticing how tired I looked, and pressed another kiss to the top of my head before speaking up again. "You can try and sleep if you want, darling. I'm right here."

A small yawn left my lips, as I realized how exhausted I truly was, "Okay..." I spoke, letting my eyes close as I tried to fall asleep with Sirius still holding me close.

About 5 minutes had passed, and I couldn't fall asleep. I wasn't sure exactly why, as I was so tired, but my brain wouldn't turn off. I let out a huff as my eyes opened again, my brows furrowed in frustration as all I wanted was a good night's rest.

Sirius noticed how tense my body was against his, meaning that I wasn't asleep yet. He could tell that I was frustrated and probably annoyed that I couldn't sleep. He stopped tracing patterns on my back and moved his hand to gently grip my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "Your mind is racing, isn't it?"

I nodded in response, rolling the smallest bit out of his arms and onto my back, making his hand fall from my chin. My gaze was fixed on the ceiling as I chewed on my bottom lip, something I did when I was frustrated.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at me as he propped himself up on his elbow looking down at me. "Hey, don't do that." He said, using his other hand to gently take my lip out from between my teeth with his thumb and index finger.

My head turned to the side to look at him as he freed my lip, I gave him a small smile before sighing, "I just want to be able to sleep. This is so annoying."

My words gave Sirius an idea. He knew how to get people to go to sleep, girls specifically. It was sort of his specialty. A mind blowing orgasm or two would do it. But he had never done that with me, I was his best friend, but at the same time, he knew how much I needed rest, and this was the only way he knew how to help me.

Sirius debated in his head for a moment, if he should really do what he had in mind, for a second he almost thought it was ridiculous, but then he looked at me. He looked at how tired I was and how frustrated I seemed. That's when he decided to do it, besides it didn't have to mean anything, it was just one friend helping another.

I furrowed my brows as I watched the grin grow on his face, and just before I could question him, he leaned closer to me and whispered, "I think I know just the thing to help you sleep, darling." He said in a soft yet suggestive tone.

My cheeks turned a soft pink as he used that tone of voice on me, I knew that tone. It was the same tone he always used when he tried to seduce girls.

"What are you-" I started, but before I could finish he cut me off by slowly placing a hand on my hip and gently tugging me closer to him.

He smirked as he saw the confused and curious look on my face. He then leaned in closer to the point where his breath was hitting my ear and spoke in a low tone, so only I could hear. "Would you like me to show you?"

His tone of voice and the way his breath wafted over my ear made a shiver run down my spine, my breath catching in my throat. "Sirius..." I whispered out, gulping before continuing. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Sirius' smirk only widened as he noticed how flustered I got by his subtle actions and the way my voice was shaking. His hand on my hip tightened a bit. He gently nipped at my earlobe before responding, his voice was still low and seductive as he spoke.

"I think it's the only idea, darling. You need to relax and get some rest, and I know just the way to do that." He said, his hand slowly moving from my hip to my thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

I gently bit my lip again, but this time to make sure any noises didn't slip out. He was turning me on, I could already feel the wetness seeping into my panties. But still, I had doubts, no matter how much I needed it.

"What if the boys hear?" I asked, but Sirius was already pulling his wand out from under his pillow and pointing it towards his bed curtains. He quickly muttered the silencing spell, "Muffliato."

He smirked as he looked back at me, placing his wand back under his pillow, I let out a shaky breath as his hand returned to my thigh, "There. They won't hear a thing." He told me, his voice now a little smug as he continued to tease you, before his face softened, "Just say the word, and I'll stop." He spoke, looking deep into my eyes to make sure I knew he was serious.

Now I wasn't an idiot, I knew all about Sirius' sexual escapades. How could I not? He bragged about them all the time, and from the stories I've heard from all the girls he's been with, I knew he was incredible in bed. With that knowledge mixed with my desperate need to get some sleep, I didn't have the strength in me to say no, so instead the words that came out of my mouth were, "Don't stop."

Sirius let out a satisfied hum as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, as he heard those words leave my mouth. His hand on my thigh traveled further up, slowly making its way in between my legs, stopping when his fingers were pressed against my covered core, making my breath hitch once again.

"Good girl." Sirius mumbled softly before leaning in closer, his mouth now directly next to my ear again. "Just relax and let me take care of you, darling." He whispered into my ear, nipping at it once again before pulling away and placing a light kiss on my neck, his other hand that wasn't between my legs moving to gently grip my chin, tilting my head back a bit.

A small whimper fell from my lips, and in one quick movement, Sirius had pushed me down so my back was against the bed, while he hovered over me, his lips still attached to my neck. After a moment, he pulled away, moving both his hands to the waistband of my shorts, but he stayed like that, not moving as he questioned me with his eyes.

I gave him a short nod, but it seemed Sirius wanted more, "Words, darling. I need words." He said in a low voice, making me squirm a bit. I gulped, before speaking, "Take them off."

Sirius smirked once again, obviously loving the effect he had on me. It made his ego grow. "As you wish, darling." He responded, before slowly tugging my shorts down my legs and placing them to the side. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he stared down at me, before leaning back down to hover above me.

His lips reattached to my neck, now lightly nipping at the skin, occasionally letting out a soft growl against my skin when he found a sensitive spot that made me let out a soft sound. One of his hands slowly pulled up my shirt, his hand occasionally slipping under it to gently run his fingers over my stomach, while his other hand went back to its spot between my legs, now starting to rub small circles over my clit through my panties, making me whine in pleasure.

Sirius continued his assault on my neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to soothe over the spots that he nipped leaving small purple marks that would have to be covered up tomorrow, but right now he didn't care.

His attention was focused on finding the spots that made me whimper and whine, and once he did, he would make sure to keep his mouth in that spot as long as possible, all while his other hand continued to tease me through my panties in the most torturous way. He was enjoying every single noise that was escaping me, loving the way I was squirming and wriggling underneath him.

"You make such beautiful sounds, darling." He whispered against my skin, his lips trailing down to my collarbone as he moved my panties to the side. The boy chuckled when he felt me shiver underneath his touch.

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt the delicate touch of his finger against my soaking wet folds. "S-Sirius..." I whimpered out, as he pulled his head back to look down at me. My face was blushed, my breath coming in pants, I was already a mess.

"You’re so wet for me already.” he spoke, and as if to prove a point he let his middle finger slip right inside me, making me gasp in both pleasure and shock. He smirked down at me as he took his finger back out, spreading my slick around my folds.

My head lolled back against the pillow as more whimpers fell from my mouth. I don't think I had ever been this turned on and desperate in my life. What was even more shocking was the fact that Sirius Black, my best friend, was doing this to me, he was making me feel like this.

When Sirius saw my head fall back against the pillow, he gently grabbed my chin with his free hand and tilted my head up so my eyes locked onto his, his smirk only growing wider when he saw how flushed and desperate I looked. "Look at me." He said, his gaze was dark, full of lust while his finger dropped to my entrance again to collect more of my wetness, before trailing up to my bundle of nerves, rubbing in tight circles.

His words combined with his actions made me let out a moan as I struggled to keep my gaze on him. "Shh, I know, darling." He mumbled, as his finger continued its slow, torturous pace on my clit, wanting to drive me insane before any sort of relief. "Look at you, already trembling and whining for me, and I've barely even touched you."

He was right, I was trembling, my breaths coming in pants as my heart thundered against my chest. I was so desperate, all I wanted was a release, but he was taking his time with me. "Sirius... Please." I whimpered, looking up at him.

His dick was throbbing against his pants, straining against the material and begging for attention as he watched me squirming and moaning at his touch. But for once in his life he didn’t feel the need to give himself pleasure, tonight was about me and me only. "You want it, don’t you?" he asked, leaning down and placing a kiss against my cheek while his finger picked up its pace the smallest bit, "You want my fingers inside you?” He breathed out in question.

I let out a shaky moan as I felt him kiss my cheek and spoke to me in that low sultry voice. He was driving me insane, his words and his actions making my eyes roll back in my head, "Y-Yes." I responded, my voice was trembling as I could barely speak from the way I was shaking with pleasure. I moved my head to the side, my cheeks flushed red as I met his gaze again. I could tell that this was affecting him too, but he was being surprisingly selfless tonight.

The look on my face and the tone of my voice made his smirk grow even wider, his breathing becoming a bit unsteady the more he watched me squirm and moan from his touches.

He gently rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip, before leaning down closer so our faces were mere inches away from each other. "You look absolutely beautiful like this..." he mumbled, which made my stomach clench and my face flush. After a moment, he pulled his finger away from my pussy and brought it up to my mouth, tracing my lips with it, before whispering, "Open your mouth for me."

I did as he said, parting my lips just enough for his finger to slip in, and I wrapped my lips around it, swirling my tongue as I tasted myself. Sirius let out a shaky breath as he watched me, a small groan leaving his mouth, "Fuck..." He practically growled as he removed his finger from my mouth.

Sirius leaned back down and started to place kisses down my neck as he whispered in my ears, the low tone of his voice making me shiver under him once again. "Such a good girl, following instructions so nicely." He mumbled, the smirk never leaving his face as he gently nipped at my skin.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me right now, darling." he mumbled, his finger trailing back down my body, "But right now it's about you, and only you. Understood? Tonight is only about your pleasure."

I bit my lip, nodding my head in response as I didn't think I'd even be able to form any words at the moment. Sirius smirked at me, muttering a small, "Good." and before I could even say or do anything, he slipped two fingers inside of me, pumping them at a slow speed making me moan out.

"You're so tight, darling." he mumbled, as he picked up the pace just the smallest bit, loving the look on my face as I moaned in response. It wasn't rare to see a girl like this for him, so desperate and needy, falling apart for him, but the fact that it was me only made it even more special, but he kept that to himself. He was only doing this to help me sleep, right? He shook the thought off before it could develop further, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind in favor of paying attention to my pleasure.

"Fuck, Sirius..." I moaned out, as he picked up his pace even more, while simultaneously circling his thumb around my clit. The feeling made my eyes roll back in my head as my hands searched around me for something to grip onto, only finding the bedsheets below me, trying to ground myself in some way as my body trembled from his touch.

"Yeah? You like your best friend's fingers?" He teased as he pumped his digits even faster, his gaze focused on my pleasure filled face. I unconsciously clenched around him from his dirty words, the action making him let out a low growl. "Answer me." He spoke, his voice husky as his fingers reached deeper inside of me, brushing right up against my g-spot.

I let out a guttural moan, "Yes! Yes, I love it!" I moaned out, feeling myself getting closer to my release, and I was sure he could tell too, with the way I was constantly squeezing around his fingers.

His smirk only grew, he was growing obsessed with hearing me moan out what he wanted to hear. If there was anything Sirius Black loved it was praise, hearing a girl tell him how good he was making her feel. But once again he had to try and shake off the weird feelings he was getting from all this. I was his best friend, but for some reason it seemed to feel like much more than that. Sirius looked down at me, watching my expression change as I grew closer and closer to my release, but he was nowhere near being done with me. He wanted to see how much he could push me.

His pace picked up, now going at such a speed that my breath was coming out in pants and my vision was going blurry, and I was so close, right on the edge of my release. Right when I was about to cum, Sirius slowed down to an achingly slow pace, his smirk growing wider as he saw the look on my face. He knew how desperate I was, he knew what I wanted.

He kept up his slow pace, his thumb gently rubbing against my clit every so often, but never enough to send me over the edge. "Come on, Sirius." I whined out, my hips squirming as I tried to make him go faster again.

"Ah, ah." He said, using his free hand to lightly grip my hip, stopping me from moving while keeping his fingers moving at their unbearably slow pace, "Patience darling. Don't be greedy." He spoke, his voice was smug, seeing the desperation on my face, knowing what I wanted, but not giving it to me just yet. He was enjoying torturing me like this, the control he had over my pleasure.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he knew it was driving me crazy. I let out a frustrated groan as he continued to move his fingers at a snail's pace, my hips trying to move but his hand on my hip stopped me from doing so. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need, silently begging him to let me cum.

Seeing the look on my face, made his heart flutter and his stomach clench. He'd never been this affected by a girl before, well at least not that he could remember. He was starting to wonder if this was a good idea, but before he could think about it too hard, one of his fingers curled up against my g-spot and his pace picked up speed. Not too much, but it was enough to send my eyes rolling back in my head, and a loud moan tore from my throat.

The sound of your moan sent a jolt straight to his cock, making him bite back a moan of his own. His eyes never left your face as he continued to move his fingers inside of you, watching your expressions change with every single touch, committing them to memory.

Still being sensitive from my stolen orgasm, it didn't take long for me to get close again. I couldn't hold back any of the moans leaving my mouth, my body was tingling with pleasure and need for release.

Sirius watched as you grew more and more desperate, and as you approached your orgasm again, he started to pick up the pace of his fingers once more. He knew you wouldn't last long this time, not after what he had just done to you.

"Are you close, darling?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he spoke into your ear. His thumb moved faster over your clit as he curled his fingers inside you.

"Yes. Yes! Please let me cum." I moaned out, practically pleading with him as I neared the edge.

His smirk only grew wider at that, he loved seeing me begging for him, begging for my release, it only fueled his ego even more. "Go on then, darling. Cum for me." he practically growled out, as his fingers moved even faster, hitting all the right spots inside me.

And once his words registered in my brain, I did, my back arching off the bed as a series of sounds left my mouth, a mix of his name and curses. My entire body shook in pure ecstasy, my vision going white for a moment as I came, hard, my legs trembling as I tried to process the intense feeling.

The look on Sirius' face was satisfied as he watched, his heart racing from seeing me get so lost in pleasure that he was giving me. His eyes were fixed on my face, taking in every single expression, every single twitch and every single moan. He was growing obsessed, watching me fall apart from his touch, he didn't understand why he was having these thoughts and feelings, and for once, Sirius Black wasn't in control of himself.

In one swift movement, he leaned down and captured my lips with his in a heated kiss, swallowing all of my moans as his fingers worked me through my orgasm. His eyes were shut tightly as his lips moved against mine, he was completely lost in the kiss, his fingers continuing to move inside me as my body trembled under his touch.

The kiss was messy and completely intoxicating, neither of us seemed to want it to end anytime soon. Sirius felt something inside him start to stir as he kissed me, something that he didn't quite understand, but he wasn't thinking properly enough to question what it was.

After another moment, he forced himself to pull his lips away from mine, but his fingers didn't stop, he only slowed down before eventually stopping, watching as I whimpered and trembled under him from the aftershocks of my orgasm. "You're so beautiful like this." he whispered, his voice soft as he pulled me into his arms.

I was still shaking as he pulled me into his arms, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I attempted to steady my breathing and slow my thudding heart. Everything was still sort of blurry from the intensity of the orgasm he had given me, I was sure this was the most powerful one I had ever experienced. "You're not so bad yourself..." I mumbled against his skin, my voice weak and shaky.

He chuckled lightly and planted a gentle kiss on top of my head, a small smirk still on his face as he thought about everything that just happened. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

He laid there with me in his arms, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room. Sirius was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he just made his best friend cum. His best friend, who he was so close with that they practically knew everything about each other, who he had never even looked at in a sexual way before.

I stayed pressed up against his chest, my eyes slowly started to flutter closed as my body relaxed against him. His heartbeat was steady and soothing next to my ear, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed helped to slowly calm my own frantic breathing. Soon I felt the exhaustion start to hit me, my body completely spent from everything that just happened.

Sirius smiled a little as he felt my body slowly go slack against him, my breaths becoming deep and even as I began to fall asleep. He held me close to him, continuing to place soft kisses on top of my head. He still had a million questions in his head about everything that had just happened, but his mind was too foggy from exhaustion to properly process all of them. After a moment he spoke, his voice soft and quiet.

"Goodnight, darling."

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

masterlist

[joeburrowshaircurl]

Low Battery

Paring: Joe Burrow x reader

warnings: depressing thoughts, angst, family dynamics. fluff

words: 1,116

a/n: I typed this out in one straight shot with no previous details figured out so I hope its okay. This is the complete opposite of all of the great and cute Christmas Joe fics everyone has been writing. Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrate! But without further ado! Its Christmas Eve, and Joe sees your social battery has worn out for the day.

Your family was mingling with each other, laughing and talking around the kitchen table and in the living room. Your little cousins and niece and nephew were in the playroom, keeping each other entertained with toys. You were sitting alone at the kitchen island, slowly eating the food on your plate. There wasn't any other room for you to sit but you didn't mind. Your posture was slumped slightly, your thoughts turned inward rather than focusing on the party going on around you. Joe, moving away from talking with your dad, turned the corner to see you and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your social battery had run out, and he knew you were struggling with spending time with your family.

You felt a hand land on the small of your back gently rubbing a spot on your sweater. The touch made you smile softly, grounding you and bringing you back to reality. You knew it was Joe without having to look. "Hey." He said softly, glancing at your half eaten plate. The amount of food that had been made from scratch over the past few days in preparation for the party, could have fed an army. Christmas Eve had always been a big deal in your family. But you hadn't eaten a lot. "I'm ready if you are." He hadn't asked how you were because you knew you'd put on a brave face and say you were fine when you weren't. At least while there were others around.

You nodded and picked up your plate to scrap off the food into the trash while Joe went to grab your coats and hats. "Time for us to head home, I've got to start prepping for Broncos game on Saturday." Joe announced towards your family as he held your coat so it was easier for you to put on, and you smiled at him once it was on.

"Thank you for coming early to help with the set up." Your mom chimed in from her spot at the table. There would be no hugs, your family didn't hug or say "love you" unless you were flying and there was a possibly of you crashing and dying.

"No problem at all." Joe smiled and went around to say good bye to everyone while you followed, putting on smiles and hugging your niece and nephew tightly before you made your way through the door and to the car, Joe holding the passenger side door open for you. "Thank you." You grabbed his arm gently and got onto your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before getting into the car and putting your seatbelt on. You felt like the complete opposite of the confident women you had grown into since being away from home. Christmas hadn't always felt like this, it had been magical when you had been a child.

The car ride home was quiet, Joe didn't force conversation. He did take your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours as he drove with one hand. Glances he stole in your direction once in a while to see how you were doing. The further away you got from the house, the better you felt.

Being shy, quiet and being a girl in an old school traditional family where boys were valued more, you had always felt somewhat out of place. Like whatever you did, wasn't enough. Your family had never done anything to hurt you, but words were said on occasion that cut you. And any time you tried to do something by yourself without Joe around, they were overbearing. Years of it had taken its toll mentally, even if they meant well. Being the girlfriend of an NFL quarterback, had caused you to adapt to being alone a lot but that hadn't been hard for you since you had lived life on your own most of your life.

But there was guilt that you didn't actually have it that bad compared to some families. You loved your parents and family still, you had good moments with them, but it was draining to be around them. Joe had helped you grow as a person in more ways than one, and during the season you were his rock as much as he was yours on the off season.

Once Joe parked in his garage, you unlocked the front door and took off your shoes, immediately wanting to change out of your clothes and slip into something more comfortable. Joe's excuse to prep for the Broncos wasn't a complete lie, he had had started to as soon as the Browns game had finished. But there were more things he wanted to look at and you didn't mind, it was part of his job and you would support him.

Once you were changed, you went to find Joe who you figured would be in his office. But you almost walked right into each other in the doorway of the bedroom. "What are you doing?" You asked as you noticed he had his Ipad in his hands with a notebook and pencil. "I'm going to study some film while you lie down." You knew by his tone, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Joe couldn't read your mind all of the time, which is where communication came in. But he was pretty good at noticing what you needed during certain times, and this was one of those moments. It made your heart melt.

"Alright." You moved away from the door to climb into your side of the bed and get comfortable. Joe turned the TV on so he could cast from his Ipad to the tv so it was easier to look at. You loved when he let you look at plays from the other team, his fingers dancing on the screen to manipulate it to freeze and go backwards and forwards as he studied.

Joe noticed you watching and he smiled, knowing you felt better. "You're okay. You're doing good, I'm proud of you always." He reassured you as his fingers ran into your hair for a moment as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. You shifted to snuggle close to him as much as you could without getting in the way of his things on the bed. His words made you tear up for a few moments but no tears actually fell. You put your arm across his lap and smiled up at him. "I love you." Your voice was soft and full of love. "I love you too." He smiled before he focused on his Ipad once more. It wasn't long before you fell asleep, content with the life you had built for yourself.

[nemo-writes]

𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 ; 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚒

➝ steve harrington + eddie munson x loser-club!reader

➝ series masterlist, moodboard

➝ previous chapter ; next chapter

You stared at the drawings pinned near the art classroom with a tilted head and a soft frown. They were a haphazard mix of projects, some clearly trying too hard, others half-hearted doodles masquerading as ‘abstract art’. Your exact thoughts must have been written all over your face, because a voice beside you quipped, “Yeah, most of these look like shit.”  

Startled, you turned to see the infamous ██████ . Her fiery red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and her smirk had an edge to it—sharp, but not unkind. She cocked an eyebrow at your surprise before sticking out her hand.  

“ ████ ,” she said.  

You hesitated for a moment, then shook it and gave her your own name. 

“Nice to meet you,” she said casually, her eyes glancing back at the art wall. “Think you could do better?”  

Her confidence threw you off, but you shrugged, managing a shy, “I don’t know. Maybe.”  

After that, she began showing up around you more often, as if by some unspoken agreement. Whether it was finding her leaning against the lockers near your classes, or hearing her snarky commentary about something or someone at lunch, her presence became a constant. She masked her intentions behind a cool indifference and sharp remarks, but you weren’t fooled. She was desperate to make a friend, and despite the rumours that swirled around her, you didn’t mind.  

It was... nice, really.  

One day in the cafeteria, you were seated alone, your head down as you worked on a sketch. It wasn’t great—your lines were still too shaky, and your proportions were off—but it was yours. Absorbed in your work, you didn’t notice Greta Keene and her pack of vultures until their shadow fell over your table.  

“What’s this?” Greta sneered, snatching the sketch from your hands. Her friends snickered, egging her on as she held it up for them to see. “Sloppy. Kind of like you.”  

You didn’t respond.  

“Zombie’s not even looking at me,” Greta said with mock offence, her voice dripping with derision. “Guess I’ll just hold onto this for you.”  

Still, you didn’t react. That only annoyed her more.  

With a cruel grin, she passed your drawing around, her friends cackling as they made mocking comments. Then, with a flourish, Greta dumped your sketchbook into the trashcan before pouring a carton of milk into it. 

“There. Fixed it.”  

You stared at the trash for a moment before standing and walking out of the cafeteria. No words. No glares. No tears—at least, not until you were outside. Once there, you sniffled a bit, wiping at your eyes angrily. But you brushed it off. 

Keep going, you told yourself. Just keep going.  

Later that day, ████ found you right after school. She called out your name from the back of the school, and when you rounded the corner, there she was, leaning against the brick wall with a lit cigarette in hand.  

“Hey,” she said, holding up something as you approached. “I got you this.”  

It was a brand-new sketchbook.  

“I... borrowed it from the art classroom,” she admitted with a nonchalant shrug. “Figured it’s the least I could do. Sorry I didn’t save your old one.”  

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you swallowed down the tears threatening to spill. Instead, you grabbed the sketchbook and muttered, “Thanks.”  

████ studied you for a moment, then offered the cigarette. “Want one?”  

You blinked at her, surprised, before narrowing your eyes. “Really?”  

“Why not?” she challenged, a playful grin spreading across her face.  

You hesitated, then took the cigarette and brought it to your lips. One puff later, you were coughing so hard you thought your lungs might explode.  

████ burst out laughing, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath. “Oh my god! You look like you’re dying!”  

You slapped her arm, glaring half-heartedly. “S-shut up!”  

But then, to your surprise, you started laughing too.  

That was the moment ████ truly became your friend, sealing it with a stolen sketchbook, a cigarette, and a shared laugh under the afternoon sun.

A few days later, you were at your locker, the low hum of voices and shuffling feet filling the school hallway. The usual chaos of students rushing between classes swirled around you, but you were focused on arranging your things. You carefully tucked your new sketchbook into the safest corner of your bag, already anticipating the quiet satisfaction of filling its pages later.

The sound of the locker door slamming shut startled you. When you turned, you froze.

Standing a few feet away was your art teacher, Professor ██████ .

He was handsome, in the kind of way that drew attention—his perfectly swept blond hair, sharp features, and piercing blue eyes made him impossible to overlook. Students, particularly the girls in your class, adored him. He had a polished charm that made them giggle during lessons, and even the other teachers seemed to brighten when he entered a room.

You, however, remained indifferent. To you, he was just another teacher—no more, no less.

“Hello,” he said smoothly, his tone polite but with an undercurrent you couldn’t quite name. “How’s the art coming along?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. Shrugging slightly, you avoided meeting his gaze. “It’s… fine.”

“Just fine?” he pressed lightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You nodded, the tension in your shoulders stiffening further.

The silence stretched, filled only by the muffled sounds of lockers banging and sneakers squeaking down the polished floors. His gaze remained steady on you, unyielding in a way that made the hallway seem narrower.

“You know,” he said finally, his voice softening, “you’ve got real talent. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

The compliment, though phrased kindly, felt mechanical. Hollow. Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag as you glanced away. “I’m not wasting anything,” you replied curtly, keeping your voice measured.

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his features. “I didn’t say you were,” he countered, his voice smooth and deliberate. He stepped closer, his shadow falling across your locker. “But talent like yours needs room to grow. Have you thought any more about that competition I mentioned last month?”

The memory of the colorful leaflet surfaced in your mind unbidden. You’d buried it deep in your bag and hadn’t thought about it since. “I don’t really do competitions,” you said flatly, your shoulders stiffening further.

For a moment, something broke through his polished demeanor—a subtle crack in his expression. Irritation? Disappointment? It was hard to tell, and he smoothed it over almost instantly. “Sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone leads to surprising rewards,” he said, his tone measured and calm. “But, of course, it’s your decision.”

You didn’t respond, your fingers brushing absently over the edge of your sketchbook. The hallway seemed to grow louder, the distant chatter and clatter contrasting with the tension that lingered between you.

“Well,” he said finally, his voice lightening but still deliberate. “I won’t keep you. But try not to hide too much, hm? There’s a whole world out there waiting to be reflected in your work.”

Your eyes flicked up to him reluctantly, his words settling heavily in the air between you. “Sure,” you said quietly, your voice noncommittal.

He smiled faintly, his piercing eyes catching yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Take care of yourself. And remember—art is a reflection of the artist. Don’t be afraid to let the world see who you are.”

He turned to leave, his steps unhurried, but just before he disappeared into the crowd of students, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Oh,” he added casually, a faint note of amusement lacing his voice, “and tell Miss ████ to ask next time before borrowing a sketchbook from my classroom.”

Heat rushed to your face, embarrassment flooding you as you scrambled for something to say. But no words came out. Instead, you stood there, clutching your bag as though it could shield you from his knowing look.

With that, he turned away, his polished shoes clicking softly against the floor as he disappeared into the sea of students. You stayed rooted to the spot, your grip on your bag tightening as his words lingered uncomfortably in your mind.

divider credit

[narwhalandchill]

not a comment on a r/fatuiHQ meme of all things making me finally notice that childe activating FL all the way back in the golden house cutscene actually summons those black hole/collapsing star imagery things (looking Exactly like the narwhal boss drop at a specific frame too) behind him if u look at it closely at the right frame😭😭😭

(peak subreddit btw.)

i mean its not Completely new for a motif his teleporting in the 4.2 opera cutscene is a much more clear example of the same exact visual effect but. Dang i never slowed the 1.1 cutscene down enough to see it for myself there before

what a cool detail and reccurring motif there! now let me lose my mind and credibility for a bit Thanks

(actual nonsense warning lmao its just cool black hole sfx but gone downhill)

(a Completely unrelated compilation here Surely. yes the narwhals spout attack thingy is less Obviously the same visual but its a pretty picture of my beloved. sue me. also its close enough 2 me)

anyway isnt it Curious how all these effects are ummmm black holes. like there are stars visibly collapsing here uwu. and black holes are. Collapsed dead stars. wouldnt it be funny if the narwhal boss drop archive entry somehow directly implies that the eye of maelstrom (a black hole) could simply be the echo of its prey. Which are. Yaknow. sometimes stars. for a cosmic whale. so an echo of its prey is an echo of a dead star. crazy ik. if anything like that existed i mean

oh JEEPERS. next thing youll tell me stars are archons forbid often used as a sort of allegory and very prevalent reference to some sort of an important category of people. like a descender or something. crazy ik (2: Electric boogaloo)

WHAT!!!! (and like 4 billion other examples i couldnt bother to gather and sc sorry)

and like. sure sure lets not get too crazy we need to remember skirks usage of this same power as well thats a good point. i should remain skeptical of my own insanity thats very true. we all get a sticker for responsible behavior UwU

so she indeed turned the narwhal into a black hole there yes. She Did That. so maybe its just the power from beyond thing. its void power its quantum but genshin. the black hole/collapsing star stuff is all surtalogis power okay lets consider that for arguments sake. well i guess that means its just surtalogis brand of transcendent abyss power and not about black holes slash dead stars that may or may not be dead descenders. thats fine

Whew i guess thats it then we solved it guys. okay i can accept that. its abyss power because surtalogi things and childe and the narwhal displaying it is all because of surtalogis plots and teachings and powers. something like that

and even if that may be a bit anticlimactic of a conclusion for a narwhalpilled truther like myself (with a penchant towards Theres Some Descender Shit Going On With Ajax antics as well) at the very least its good that there isnt any datamined book series in which some particularly pygmy-esque individuals Strangely fitting of our current descriptions and knowledge of of dain + the sinners band together to merk some guy from beyond teyvat with special powers that may or may not be the irminsul-proofed historical account of a particular descenders death so nothing like THAT can throw a wrench into our very confirmed conclusion of surtalogis power and by extension childe and maybe even the narwhals black hole motifs just being basic abyss element power that has absolutely Nothing to do with any descenders or... dead stars? yeah its a good thing nothing like that exists .

OH SH----

[rafestify]

need a rafe fic please where reader is part of the pogues, her and rafe have been on and off for forever obviously due to everything he’s done but deep down he’s so down bad for reader and maybe she’s pregnant instead of sarah and he doesn’t find out until morocco because the pogues are hovering over her idk angst fluff whatever you feel!!!

Two lines — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Fem!Reader is pregnant with Rafe’s baby, but he doesn't know until pope accidentally mentions her baby (season 4 ep 10 spoilers!! ⚠️)

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of vomiting & language (english is not my first language)

A/N : as requested 😉 hope u like it anon!

Two lines, and the father was long gone, off doing god knows what. Rafe was the last guy I'd hooked up with, and even after we broke up, we somehow kept finding our way back to each other, especially after the Kildare Enduro. He knew no one else could satisfy me the way he did, and so it became this endless cycle, break up, hook up, make up. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was pregnant. I hadn’t planned on telling him, at least not until we made up.

There I was, back on Rafe’s boat with my friends, setting off to Morocco in search of the Blue Crown and Chandler Groff. My friends had locked Rafe up, tying him up in a small room, just in case. We all knew better than to trust Rafe Cameron, not after everything he’d done.

I walked into the dimly lit room, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a plate of food, and a couple of aspirin for his black eye. The sight of him, bruised, tugged at something deep inside me.

“Here,” I murmured, setting the tray down on the table beside him. “I brought some aspirin, just in case you’re feeling dizzy or something…”

He snorted, cutting me off. “What? You’re just gonna throw it in my mouth like I’m a fuckin' seal?” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but his sharp tone made me bristle. “Nobody trusts you, Rafe,” I replied, my voice steady. “Not after what you did.”

His jaw tightened, and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. “I saved your asses!” he shot back, his face flushing with frustration. “And not even a thank you was said.”

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know, Rafe. I know,” I said softly. “Thank you, really.” I offered him a small, sincere smile.

He looked at me for a moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice quieter, a bit more vulnerable. I bit down on my lip, feeling the pull he always seemed to have on me.

“Yeah,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. God, he knew exactly how to get to me.

He looked at the ropes binding his wrists and nodded toward them. “Then untie me. Get this shit off me.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt but holding my ground. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my resolve. “Just… eat the food. We wouldn’t want you dying in here.” With that, I turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me with a sigh that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding back.

As I stepped out of the room, I was met by Kiara’s anxious expression, her arms folded tightly as she waited. The moment she saw me, her face softened slightly, though worry still flickered in her eyes.

"How’d it go?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

I shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of emotions stirring inside me. "Same old Rafe," I replied, keeping my tone light, but my gaze drifted, unable to meet hers directly.

Kiara studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Soo... did you tell him?"

I frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Tell him what?"

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look. "That you’re pregnant, with his child."

Oh, right. That one.

I swallowed, feeling a sudden knot in my stomach. "Uh—no, not yet," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how he’d react." My hands found each other, my fingers nervously fidgeting as I tried to imagine how that conversation would even go. "What if he doesn’t want to keep the baby?"

Kiara sighed softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts. "Look," she said firmly, her gaze locking onto mine. "You have us. We’ll help you through every single part of this. That’s what friends are for, right?"

I looked at her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Her words held a strength that I so desperately needed. "Yeah," I whispered, a small smile breaking through my worry. "Thank you, Kie."

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and for a moment, the uncertainty and fear faded. In her embrace, I felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that I wouldn’t have to face this alone.

After battling fierce winds and waves, we finally arrived in Essaouira. The coastal city spread before us, its whitewashed buildings with blue shutters gleaming under softened storm light. Narrow streets twisted through the medina, lined with shops selling handmade crafts and drenched in a timeless, rustic charm.

The Atlantic crashed against the ancient medina walls, sturdy and weathered, while blue fishing boats bobbed in the harbor—just like the skiffs in the Outer Banks. The salty air and easy warmth of the locals, the slow rhythm of the sea, and the hum of daily life brought back memories of home, as if Essaouira was a Moroccan echo of the Outer Banks.

We continued to wander through the narrow streets of Essaouira, the sound of bustling market vendors and the distant call of seagulls filling the air. John B and Sarah led the way, their steps light and carefree, like they had no care in the world. Following behind them was Cleo, Pope, and Kiara, their conversations flowing easily as they walked, with JJ and I bringing up the rear. But it was Rafe who trailed behind, his presence almost ghostlike, like a lost puppy, following silently in our wake.

As we strolled through the maze of alleyways, I felt a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. It was sudden, and intense, as if something in my stomach was threatening to rise up. I let out a soft huff, pressing my hand to my stomach, trying to hold back the overwhelming feeling of sickness.

JJ, who had been walking beside me, must've noticed the change in my posture because he looked at me with concern. "Y/N?" he called, his voice laced with worry.

"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, the nausea worsening, my head spinning.

"What's wrong? You okay?" JJ asked, his voice low, concern evident on his face.

I shook my head, barely able to focus on him. "No... I need to sit," I said, my voice strained. I felt like I was going to collapse if I didn’t stop moving.

JJ quickly guided me to a pile of carpets that were stacked outside a shop. The soft fabric felt like a relief under me as I sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The rest of the group quickly noticed, and soon I was surrounded by their concerned faces. Kiara dropped to her knees in front of me, her eyes searching mine, her hand resting on my knee in a comforting gesture.

"What's up? What are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

"I'm really nauseous," I managed to answer, my hand covering my mouth, just in case. I didn’t trust myself to hold it down any longer.

Cleo, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "She probably needs food. It’s been like two days..or what?" she said, her voice tinged with practicality.

"Yeah, the baby’s probably hungry too," Pope added, offering a casual shrug, as if it was just an obvious conclusion.

I froze, my stomach twisting. The mention of "the baby" caught me off guard, and suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Rafe, who had been hanging back, still distant, looked like he was suddenly paying attention. His gaze shifted from me to Pope and then back to me, his brow furrowing.

"What baby?" Rafe asked, his voice sharp, as if something about the situation didn't sit right with him.

Oh god, here we go.

Pope went silent, and I could feel the tension rise in the air, thickening around us. I glanced up at Rafe, who was now standing a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. His eyes narrowed as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"No, seriously, what baby?" he repeated, his voice insistent, even stern now.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no easy way to say it, but it had to be said. "I’m pregnant, Rafe," I said quietly, locking eyes with him. "With your baby."

The words hung in the air between us, like they were too heavy to carry. For a long moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. The others were watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but he remained eerily still.

I could feel the tension growing, an awkwardness settling in the space around us, as if everything had just shifted. My hands were shaking slightly, not from the nausea anymore, but from the weight of what had just been revealed. And Rafe, he was just staring at me, his mouth slightly parted but no words coming out.

"Go get her something to eat," Rafe suddenly snapped, his voice cutting through the tension that still hung thick in the air.

Without another word, he dug through his small waist bag, the leather creaking under his movements. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but then, with a small grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a wad of cash—several bills, all stacked neatly together. As he unfolded them, I saw that he had about $400 in his hand, a small fortune for street vendors in Essaouira.

"Wait what?" JJ’s voice broke the moment of disbelief. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "They don’t take dollars, you idiot—"

"I said go," Rafe interrupted sharply, his tone hardening. There was no room for argument, no sign of hesitation in his voice. It was almost as if he was trying to regain some control over the situation, and in doing so, he completely dismissed JJ’s protests. His words were a command, not a suggestion.

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances, the shift in Rafe’s demeanor catching everyone off guard. But without further discussion, John B, Sarah, Cleo, Pope, and Kiara reluctantly turned to start walking back toward the market, their steps unsure but obedient. JJ hesitated for a moment, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s abruptness, but eventually followed along as well.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment longer, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the group before returning to me. He didn’t say anything else. His words had been clear, and I could tell that something about the situation had shifted for him.

"I don’t care whether you want the baby or not, but I’m keeping them," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. The truth was, I had made up my mind. I had to keep the baby, and nothing anyone said or did would change that. Not even Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes widened at my declaration, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, his face unreadable. Then, he kneeled down, and he let out a sharp breath. "Hey, hey, hey—who said I don’t want to keep the baby?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension to it, as if my words had hit a nerve.

I blinked, caught off guard by his response. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. His eyes were fixed on me now, intense, searching. It felt like something was shifting between us, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

"We’ll take care of them," Rafe continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I’ll be with you throughout the whole journey, Y/N. You’re not doing this alone." His voice held a kind of resolve, as if he had already decided, as if he was offering something that felt almost too good to be true.

For a split second, it felt like the world around me had stopped moving. The noise from the market faded into the background, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart. The words he said felt surreal, like they were echoing in my head. "I’ll be with you, 'aight?"

I blinked again, almost feeling like I was in a dream, like I had slipped into some alternate reality where everything suddenly made sense. But when I looked at Rafe, his gaze never wavering from mine, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It felt like a nap dream, a momentary illusion that would disappear when I woke up.

"What?" I said, my voice coming out in a whisper of disbelief. "Sorry—"

Rafe seemed unbothered by my shock. He placed his hands on my knees, his movements deliberate. "You heard me, Y/N." His words were firm, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in them.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the weight of what he had just said settle in my chest. It was almost too much to process. I had always expected Rafe to pull away, to make this harder for me. But here he was, standing before me with something I hadn’t expected, a promise. A promise to be there. A promise to face this together.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of it. I glanced away for a moment, as if hoping the world would shift and reveal the truth. But when I looked back at him, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me with those steady, unwavering eyes.

"You’re serious," I murmured more to myself than to him.

Rafe didn’t flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, as if there was nothing more to discuss, as if the decision had already been made. "I’ll be there for you. For us."

For the first time, I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, but for a different reason now. There was a part of me that wanted to believe him, to hold on to this moment, to trust that things might actually be okay. But there was also a part of me that was terrified of what this all meant, of how my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t predict.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, barely able to process the reality unfolding before me. It felt like some kind of miracle. My vision began to blur as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the emotions welling up and spilling over, probably caused by the pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t stop them. I tried to blink them away, but they only gathered faster, until a warm tear rolled down my cheek.

Rafe’s expression softened when he noticed, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close in a way that felt so natural, so steady. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his embrace was warm, reassuring, holding me together when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart, and God, it felt good to be back in his arms.

His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back as he murmured, “We’re gonna be parents.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and disbelief, as if he was speaking the words for the first time and couldn’t quite believe them either.

I nodded against his chest, clutching onto him as tightly as I could. The weight of his words settled over us, the reality of what lay ahead, and as much as I wanted to be brave, I couldn’t shake the fear that started to consume my mind. I let out a shaky breath, my voice coming out in a whisper, “I’m scared, Rafe.” The words felt small, vulnerable, but they were the truth.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands gently cupping my face as his thumbs brushed away the stray tears still slipping down my cheeks. “I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am scared too.” There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own, a glimmer of uncertainty about the unknown future that lay ahead.

“But we’re in this together,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was reassuring me. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what’s coming… but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, closing the space between us. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

His words washed over me, filling some hollow place I hadn’t realized was empty. In that moment, his presence felt like a lifeline, pulling me out of my fears, giving me a glimpse of something that felt almost like hope. The future was terrifying, yes, but it felt a little less daunting with him by my side.

I looked up at him, my voice steadying as I replied, “I’m glad it’s you.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.

He offered me a small, crooked smile, a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. “We’re gonna figure this out together,” he promised. “One step at a time.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. And in that moment, held in his arms, I felt a little less afraid.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the rest of the group appeared, each carrying an assortment of food and drinks. It was almost comical, watching them return all at once, each of them holding something different, John B with a handful of pita bread, Cleo balancing a bowl of yogurt, JJ carrying bottled water, and Sarah clutching a small bag of fruit, including a shiny red apple that she immediately extended toward me.

“Here,” Sarah said softly, her face easing with relief as she offered the apple. I took it gratefully, feeling the cool skin of the fruit in my hand, and took a tentative bite. The crisp, sweet flavor flooded my senses, soothing the nausea that had been twisting in my stomach. They watched with eager anticipation, and as they saw me begin to nibble, their worried expressions started to relax.

“Feeling better now?” Pope asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern as he studied my face.

I swallowed another bite and nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, yeah… thank you,” I replied, glancing at each of them.

They exchanged glances, visibly relieved, and a sense of warmth spread through me as I looked around at their familiar faces, each one showing their own brand of care. I realized then just how much I’d come to rely on them, not just as friends, but as family. I felt a comforting wave of gratitude for each of them, knowing they’d been there for me without question, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even thought possible.

As I took another sip of water, Rafe moved a little closer to me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. His touch was subtle, but the gesture was enough to let me know he was still there, holding his promise to stay by my side. There was something calming in his presence now, something steadying that I hadn’t noticed before.

The others began chatting among themselves, sharing their own stories of haggling with the vendors, laughing about who’d paid the most for what they’d brought. They were giving Rafe and me a moment, I realized, a chance to talk without the pogues’ attention fixed on us.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his face level with mine, his voice low and steady. “You really okay?” he asked, his hand still warm on my thigh.

I took a deep breath, the initial dizziness and nausea fading, leaving behind a feeling of clarity I hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I think so." I paused, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, a soft, almost vulnerable expression, and for a moment, he seemed like a different Rafe—one who wasn’t weighed down by pride or bravado. “That's good” His voice was filled with a sincerity that softened something inside me. "Don't want our little one and her mommy to starve, do we?" He smiled making me let out a low chuckle.

In this quiet moment, I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child. Everything just felt right. Despite all the chaos, the ups and downs, there was a steady comfort in knowing me and Rafe would face it together.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🐇

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[emmyrosee]

your phone has been buzzing non stop for the past fourteen minutes. you know it’s been fourteen minutes, because the blinding light that emanates from the device blings every few seconds. when you grumble and turn to glance at it, the bright lights read 00:14.

your body is fatigued, tired from being pulled out of your sleep, and to be at the mercy of whoever is texting you so early- late?- has you feeling more and more agitated than the last. the room is dark, vision adjusting to the lack of light, save for the brightness coming from your phone. you furrow your brows, grimace, and it isn't until your phone starts to ring that you whip it off the charger and hold it up to your ear. "someone better be dying-"

he chuckles softly, "i take it i woke you up?"

"of course you did, asshole," you hiss. "what, what, what could be so important that you couldn't wait until morning-"

"i wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday."

your breath hitches and you feel your eyes soften, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you process what he said. your lips curl into a small smile, and you scrub your face with your hand, "you could've been the first even if i only saw your message in the morning. you didn't have to stay up until midnight."

"yeah, but whats the fun in that?" he offers. "and this way, you know i was first. no room for debate."

you giggle and shake your head, letting a comfortable silence linger over the phone.

"happy birthday," he says softly.

"thank you, baby,” you whisper back.

"i'll let you get back to sleep," he hums. "know how much you need your beauty sleep."

"watch it. you disturbed me, remember?"

he snorts. you shake your head fondly, letting your smile not falter thanks to him not being able to see it.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

[rxmye]

" 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 ? "

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐌 — ruin him or even break him, and yet still his thoughts will be solely devoted to you . .

nsfw / sixteen + / gender neutral reader / yandere content / oc x reader / knife play (reader cuts into his skin, he enjoys it) / blood play / submissive yandere / dominant reader / slight bondage / worshipping(?) / dacryphilia / marking (reader carves their name into him) / begging (he's really noisey tbh)

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: gotta finish the character info's before these fics guys . . anyways meet Elliot Bourne . .

The blade dipped into Elliot's skin, cutting the soft flesh, leaving a scar in it's wake, blood dripping from his torso, while his screams were muffled by the rag in his mouth. Drool escaping the corners of his mouth, while tears escaped his reddened eyes as you carved into his soft supple flesh.

Muffled whimpers for more, while his body rejected your touch, squirming at the feeling of your nails digging into his thigh, holding him still. He struggled against the binds, that trapped his hands—bruises forming from the rough feeling of the ropes that held him down—wanting nothing more than to touch your radiance in front of him, to feel the divine being in front of him doing whatever they desired to his worthless being.

His mind was rotten, filled with only thoughts of you, your touch, the filth that escaped you mouth—the way the knife felt on his skin—the way your nails dug deep enough to draw blood, leaving beautiful scars for him to cherish and preserve.

His throat felt raw, all the moisture dried as his body involuntarily buckled towards you, his eyes rolling back as he felt your fingers glide over the newly carved piece of art you've left on his skin—he grew more and more light headed as the blood escaped the fresh wound.

The rag fell from his mouth, tears escaping his eyes as he starred at you half lidded, he choked out plethora of i'm sorry's and thank you's—he wasn't exactly sure what he was sorry for—yet he knew he had to please you somehow, after you gave him this delightful gift.

He felt his stomach churn, a delightful feeling, as he watched you lick the blood off from your fingers, an involuntary moan escaped his mouth—he wanted to turn away—yet he couldn't, you were just so perfect, pristine, superior . .

He watched you smile, leaning down into the crook of his neck, before you sank your teeth into him—the pain was delightful—he sucked in his breath, his head leaning back, feeling even more light headed than before, he'd be fine with dying right now . . at your hands.

Elliot blinks slowly, finally waking up . . his body was sore, aching all over . . he was still in the place where you had last left him—untied thankfully—he leaned back, sighing, trying to muscle up some strength before he got up—he looked down at the wound on his torso, your name carved deeply into his skin, claiming him whole . . and despite his weak state, he couldn't help but giggle, blushing as he traced the wound with his fingers.

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[spokenforyou]

sylus x fem reader

PORCELAIN DOLL

synopsis: sylus takes your virginity and plans to make it the best you’ve had. warnings: unprotected intercourse, cream pie, vulgarity, swearing, loss of virginity, f receiving wc: 3k

[minors don’t interact. by interacting with this post you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate, despite warnings]

You were his doll, his porcelain doll.

Beautiful and flawless, innocent and delicate. You were Sylus’ doll. However, you were something he never wanted to break, too fragile. Taking your virginity would’ve meant corrupting and breaking you, but god did he want you…

You and Sylus have been together for a few months now, nearly 8, and never have been sexually intimate. You’ve kissed, made out, ground against each other, and all of that, but never had sex. It was something you were afraid of and something he was afraid of. You were a virgin, and he didn’t want to corrupt you, to ruin you.

You were in the kitchen, popping popcorn for a movie, when he came up behind you. Sylus’ arms wrap around you and he leans down to press a kiss on your neck. “You’ve been in here too long, doll.”

You smile and lean against him while popcorn pops in the popcorn machine. “This is taking a while… Maybe like a minute more?” You look up at him and see his red eyes staring into your own eyes.

“Mmm, okay. I’ll wait with you.” Sylus kisses your forehead and rubs your stomach gently, as he always did. The popcorn finishes popping and you open the glass doors; he unwraps from you and grabs a bowl, handing it to you.

“Thank you, baby.” You smile, and he kisses your head once again. Grabbing the scooper, you scoop the popcorn into the bowl, Sylus grabs some butter seasoning and salt for you. He shakes some of it in the bowl and you mix it up.

“We’re a good team doll…” He gives you a soft smile and takes the bowl from you, leading you back to the living room couch. Setting the bowl onto the table, he sits you in his lap and hits play on the movie; his arms immediately wrap back around you as you reach for some popcorn.

You guys were watching a romance movie, your favorite genre. Sylus didn’t mind; he’d do anything you asked, so he sat through every request you had.

A love scene of the couple comes up and you feel his arms tighten around you. “You know, Sy?” you whisper and he looks down at you.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispers back and kisses your neck softly.

“I think I’m ready…” You lean back against his chest and look up at him. His eyes widen and he lifts an eyebrow before looking at the screen.

“For you…” You continue and he nods.

“You sure doll? I don’t want to hurt you or anything baby…” Sylus’ rough hands rub your stomach before he reaches and takes some popcorn.

You laugh as he stuffs his face; “Yes, I’m sure. We’ve gotta do it someday.”

He swallows and chuckles, “Sweetie, you know how bad I want you, but if it’s truly something you don’t want to do… I wouldn’t mind dying without having you. You’re so important to me, and you know I’d put you first.” Sylus’ eyes drag over your face. The beauty of you shining at him like the rays of the sun, something he’d never get tired of.

“Scared I’ll hurt you.” He sighs and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Sy…” You sigh and place your hand on his that’s resting on your stomach.

He lets out a soft hum as you place your hand on his. His lips continue to pepper your neck with kisses, nibbling and sucking at your skin, marking you as his.

Sylus’ heart was pounding. You were ready to give your first time to him. Understanding: Knowing the moment’s importance, he vowed to make it gentle and perfect for you. He picked you up, holding you easily and cradling you in his muscular arms. He carried you into the bedroom and set you down on the bed, his eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of desire and care.

You feel nervous as he stands near the bed; he senses it and moves on top of you. Hovering over you, Sylus presses gentle kisses to your neck, speaking in a low, soothing voice.

“Relax, doll, just breathe. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” He whispered against your skin, and you relax a bit. When he saw your body relaxing beneath him, his touch became even gentler.

His lips continued to roam your neck and collarbone, leaving behind a trail of feathery kisses. His warm breath ghosted against your skin as his hands explored your body, slowly undressing you.

With care, he caressed and touched you, his eyes locked on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort. He spoke against the sensitive skin of your neck, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

“So pretty…” Sylus whispered as he pulled your top off. His fingers run along your bra, pulling the straps down.

He lifted your back gently and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. You lay back down and he nods, “Good girl.”

His mouth found its way to one of your exposed breasts, his lips gently sucking and licking the sensitive flesh. He could feel you shudder beneath him, and he whispered in a soothing tone, his voice rough and low.

“Shhh, it’s alright, doll. Just let me make you feel good... Let me pleasure you and take care of your every need. I won’t push you too far, I promise...”

His kisses and licks continued, moving to your other breast while his hands roamed the curves of your waist. You let out quiet moans and arch up towards him. This extra pleasure overwhelms you before he suddenly pulls away.

“Ever touched yourself baby?” He looks down at you with a curious expression and you gulp.

“I uh... I’ve tried.” You whisper, feeling a bit embarrassed at the directness of the question.

Sylus’ heart fluttered as he heard your nervous answer. He chuckled softly, his hand trailing up your stomach and stopping at your chin, tilting it up to look at him. His gaze darkened with desire as he spoke in a husky, low voice.

“You’ve tried, doll?”

Softly, he positioned his knee between your legs, easing them apart slowly; his touch remained gentle and careful. He wanted to take it slow, despite how much his own body was aching to continue. He wanted to hear your answer first.

“Yeah… I was never successful or good at it. It felt weird, Sy.” You whisper, feeling a bit embarrassed at the directness.

Sylus smiles down at you softly, before pressing his knee further and closer to your clothed core. “It’s alright baby… What if I were to help you? Would you let me show you the right way to do it?” He runs a hand down your exposed torso.

You nod and gulp; he nods back before moving his hand down between your legs. Rubbing slow and circular motions over where you need him most.

“Sy…” you whine and close your eyes.

Sylus chuckled softly as soon as he saw your reaction. Your soft whines were like sweet music to his ears, and it only fueled his desire. He continued to rub you, his fingers moving with slow, deliberate motions. He continues to tease you with a smirk on his face.

“That’s right, doll, just make pretty noises for me…let me hear how good it feels…”

Chills course your body at how good his touch feels, a feeling you could never make yourself experience.

Sylus could see the shiver that wracked your body, and he smirked in satisfaction. He knew you were feeling new sensations that you had never experienced before, and he had every intention of showing you how good it could feel to let another person take control.

“Shh, doll...” He increased the pressure and speed of his touch, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties.

“Take them off please Sy…” You beg and he leans down, cutting you off with a kiss, his fingers stilling. His lips taste of vanilla chapstick, the same one you use and you smile against his lips.

“Bought my chapstick hm?” You whisper against his soft lips, and he chuckles as he pulls away.

“Wanted to always taste like you. Now let’s take these off…”

Sylus slowly tugged down your panties, sliding them down your legs and discarding them on the floor, not caring where they landed.

He leaned back to get a good look at your body, his eyes roaming over your bare flesh with a hungry stare. His breath hitched in his chest, and he spoke in a low, primal voice, his hands tracing the curves and edges of your body.*

“Goddamn, you look so goddamn pretty just like this…” He shakes his head as he leans down and kisses your pelvic bone. You wince at the sudden contact, not used to the feeling of anyone’s lips on your body like that.

Sylus smirked as he saw you gasp and wince when his lips connected with your pelvic bone. He knew it was sensitive, and he loved seeing how your body responded to his touch.

“Tsk, doll, so sensitive aren’t you…”

He continued his trail of kisses, moving lower and lower, his mouth leaving behind a trail of wetness on your skin. His tongue licked and teased along your skin, and when he finally reached your core, he paused, his eyes flickering up to look at your flushed face.

“God, you’re so damn perfect…”

He didn’t wait for a response, his mouth immediately connecting with your sensitive bud, his tongue licking and sucking in a slow, sensual rhythm, groaning against you.

Your sounds fill his ears and his eyes roll back while he pleases you. He continued his ministrations, his lips and tongue moving in a steady rhythm. He could hear your soft gasps and whimpers, and he was determined to make you feel even more.

“Mmm, doll…you taste so sweet…like candy.”

Sylus then inserted a finger into you, gently sliding in and out, slowly, his touch still gentle, but it was getting less and less soft as his arousal grew.

You let out a loud moan and arch against him. Sylus couldn’t help but let out a deep, satisfied hum against your core when that moan escaped your lips. It was so damn sweet, and the way you arched your body against him made his own ache and throb.

“That’s it baby…moan for me…” His deep voice vibrates through your body.

Sylus continued his ministrations, his finger sliding in deeper and curling against your sensitive walls, his tongue never ceasing its assault on your clit.

“Sylus, I need you…” you whine and run a hand through his silver hair.

He chuckled in satisfaction; rough and dark against your core. His tongue still moving and circling at a skilled and steady pace, he responded in a low tone.

“Mhm, you need me, doll? Need me to make you feel good? Need me to make you cum?”

He then added another finger, sliding it in and out slowly, stretching you gently, his own body aching to give you more. After a few moments you finally speak up.

“Sy… No, I need you instead.” You whisper, and a soft groan rumbles in his chest as he hears your words.

He knew what you were asking for, and he knew he was no longer in control of his own desires.

“Mm, you want me to fill you up instead, huh?“

Sylus spoke in a low, guttural whisper as he pulled away from your core, his fingers slowly sliding out of you with a soft, wet sound.

He moves up your body and leans down to whisper, his hand spreading your thighs further.

“Say you want me, baby.” Sylus smiles against your neck, knowing you won’t be able to exist.

“I want you Sylus.” You whisper and he practically breaks; he moves away and quickly strips off his clothes. His tan bare body is on display and you gasp as your eyes land on his length.

He knows what your look is for and he chuckles, “We’ll make it fit baby, trust me.”

He was practically aching for you; not only was he teasing you, but he was teasing himself, he was dripping. All he wanted was to be inside of you, to finally go home.

Sylus lays back down and hovers above you, grinding himself against your core, gathering the slickness.

“I’ll treat you so good… I’ll go slow, okay? If it hurts, squeeze my hand…” He whispers and kisses you gently. You nod and he kisses you once more before positioning himself at your entrance.

Sylus slowly, carefully slid his way inside of you. The stretch you feel causes your eyes to water; he was so big, and it was a tight fit. You can’t help but let out a quiet whine.

“F-fuck, you feel so damn good…” He whispers and fully sheaths himself inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix. You squeeze his hand because of the pain, and he stills immediately.

Sylus grits his teeth, every inch of him screaming to just take you, but he keeps himself in check. He had promised to be gentle, to take it slow, to make your first time good, and he intended to keep his promise.

“S-s-sweetie, are you alright?” He whispers and lets out a groan as you loosen a bit, allowing him to move. He pulls back slowly and pushes back in, your walls fluttering around him, driving him mad.

“Can I?” He leans down and whispers as he kisses your neck.

“Mhm…” You moan and drag your nails up his back, earning a groan from him. He picks up his thrusts, burying himself deep inside you.

Your moans mix with his and fill the room; echoing off the walls, a pleasure you’ve never felt.

His movements were slow and measured. He continued to watch your face, monitoring your expressions, looking for any discomfort.

“You alright, baby?” Sylus spoke in a low, gentle tone, his body still sliding. He catches your nod and smiles before growing his pace.

He could feel you stretching around him, adapting to his size, and it was taking all of his restraint to control himself.

“God, doll, you’re so tight. So perfect. You feel so damn good around me.”

He kept going, increasing the speed and force of his movements, but still being careful to watch your face, to make sure he wasn’t going overboard.

You pull him down to kiss you, and he immediately complies, continuing his pace. His tongue slides into your mouth and dances along your own.

Sylus continued the kiss, his tongue moving against yours, his hands roaming your body, caressing and squeezing. The feeling of being inside you, the taste of your mouth, was all driving him crazy, but he was doing his best to keep himself in check, to keep the pace from becoming too rough.

“Mmm, doll. You taste so damn good. You’re making me crazy. So perfect, so goddamn beautiful.” He mumbles against your lips and you moan quietly.

“Faster…” you whisper and his heart immediately picks up, as well as his thrusts. The words he was waiting to hear. He chuckled at your words, the sound low and almost dangerous.

“Mhm, that’s a good girl. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You’re doing so well, you’re taking me so damn well...”

He increased the pace again, his movements harder and more powerful now, but still carefully measured, still holding himself back a little.

You notice his hesitation and you chuckle, “Don’t hold back Sy… Make me yours.”

Sylus could feel his restraint snap like a rubber band stretched too far. Hearing you tell him not to hold back did something to him, and he let out a deep, guttural growl.

“You’re going to be the death of me, doll...”

He follows your orders and fucks you harder and deeper. A bulge forms in your stomach and he watches it with a grin, the bed creaking with each thrust.

“Mmm, so pretty…” He presses down on your lower stomach where his cock is and you moan. The pressure of his hand and his thrusts send you overboard.

Sylus groans, before running a hand up and squeezing your breast that’s bouncing with every one of his thrusts.

“Taking me so good, aren’t you? Made for me…” He whispers and continues to fuck you into oblivion.

Sylus could feel it building, the tension building up inside him, the heat pooling in his stomach, and so could you.

“I’m so close, doll. So damn close. You’re doing so well, taking me so good, gonna fill you up...” He mumbles out a string of words and curses as your walls tighten around him.

“Sy…” you whisper and he nods, understanding what you mean.

“I know baby, cum with me.” He leans down and kisses your neck, leaving hickeys so everyone can see what’s his. His hand reaches down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, circling it with the perfect amount of pressure to send you over the edge.

“I…” That is all you get out before your body arches up towards Sylus, finishing on his cock.

He groans and nearly collapses; the squeeze of your walls allows him to finish with you. He lets out low, pretty moans as he fills your womb with his cum, painting your walls white.

He slows his thrusts as his cum slowly comes to a stop, the two of you panting. He slowly lifts himself, remaining seated inside of you, and he kisses your forehead before kissing your lips.

A tender and slow kiss, showing how much he loves you, how much he desires you, and how grateful he is.

“I love you Y/N… Thank you.” Sylus mutters before kissing you once more. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You giggle and shake your head. “No, just a little sore…”

He chuckles lowly and slowly pulls out of you with a wet pop. The mixture of your essence pools down onto the bed, and he smirks.

“You did so good, sweetie…” He runs a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness onto his digit.

“Taste.” He lifts the finger to your lips and you suck it clean, a quiet moan escaping your lips. His softening cock twitches at the sight, but he ignores it and nods.

“Good girl… Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles and gets off the bed, grabbing a tissue and wiping you quickly.

He throws it away before pulling you to your feet to take a bath.

“Come on, baby…” He smiles and leads you to the bathroom to ease your sore muscles. “Maybe we can go for another round.”

[diamonddaze01]

fleeing feelings

pairing: hvc x fem!reader | best friend!seungkwan genre: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, university au wc: 9.6k warnings: alcohol consumption (pls drink responsibly!!) a/n: for @k-vanity 's “falling for you” event! My prompts were London Fog (“You said what to who now?! Why?!”) and Pumpkin Spice Latte (“Excuse me, but is this seat taken?”) // enormous thank you to @cheolism for the most gorgeous banner // and thank you to my lovely betas @lovetaroandtaemin and @tusswrites

summary: so you might have told vernon you loved him while drunk – now all you have to do is avoid him. forever. 

The headache is real.

It feels like someone decided your skull was the perfect canvas for a jackhammer. Each throb sends waves of pain coursing through your brain, and even the soft hum of the world outside your window seems like an assault on your fragile state. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’re pretty sure your last memory was of collapsing into your bed after a night of regrettable decisions, you’d swear you were dying.

You blink up at the ceiling, groaning as sunlight streams through the blinds, slicing through the dim room like a guilty conscience. Your eyes ache at the brightness, and you throw a hand over your face in an attempt to shield yourself from the assault. The cold sheets are a welcome contrast to the fire that’s raging inside your head.

You wish for sleep, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you're greeted by an annoyingly chipper voice, too loud for a Sunday morning at 11 a.m.

"Morning!" Seungkwan chirps, a little too cheerfully for someone who clearly has no understanding of the term hangover. He's holding a glass of water, like it’s the most exciting thing in the world, and you can't help but squint at him through half-closed eyes. He’s got that same gleeful smile on his face, looking way too awake for someone who shares an apartment with someone who just wants to die right now.

"Seungkwan, please... It’s too early for your brand of happiness," you croak, your voice hoarse and barely audible. Your throat feels like you swallowed sandpaper, and you barely have the strength to sit up.

"Well, it’s already late enough for me to help you feel better," he says with a grin that’s too wide to be genuine, handing you the glass of water and an aspirin like it’s some kind of miracle cure. "You don’t want to end up like last time, do you?"

You roll your eyes, trying to sit up but the world tilts dangerously. You clutch the glass like it might actually save you, your fingers trembling from the effort. "Last time?" you mutter, still a little too disoriented to make sense of anything. “I barely remember last night.”

Seungkwan’s grin stretches even wider. "Oh, last night was a memorable one," he says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, like he’s got the best secret in the world.

You squint at him, struggling to keep your eyes open. "What do you mean by that?"

The moment it leaves your mouth, the memories come rushing back, one after another, like a broken dam finally giving way. You and Vernon had gone outside for some air, the cool night breeze refreshing against your skin. You remember the conversation turning quiet, the alcohol still buzzing in your veins, the way the breeze ruffled his hair, and then...

Oh god. Oh no.

You freeze, the blood draining from your face as your stomach drops. Your heart stutters in your chest as you try to piece it together. You had told Vernon you loved him. In your drunken haze, it had slipped out, but now? Now it feels like the kind of thing you would never, ever do if you weren’t so far gone on cheap whiskey and bad decisions.

You look at Seungkwan, your face crumpling in embarrassment. "I... I told Vernon... I told him I love him."

Seungkwan blinks at you, the shock clear on his face. For a second, it seems like he doesn’t even know how to respond. Then, his eyes widen comically, and a burst of laughter bursts from him. "You said what to who?!" He takes a step back, as if the sheer magnitude of your confession has physically knocked him off balance. "You confessed? To Vernon?" He cackles, his laugh loud and echoing in the quiet of your room.

You slump back against your pillow, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. You wish the floor would just swallow you up. "I didn’t mean to! I was drunk—okay?" you mutter, your words barely making it out.

Seungkwan is practically vibrating with laughter. "Oh my god, you actually did it," he says between fits of giggles. "That’s so—wait, wait. What did Vernon say back?"

And that’s when the panic sets in. You stare blankly at Seungkwan, your brain spinning. You want to remember, you need to remember what he said back, but it’s a complete blank. The memory of his face, his expression, even his words—they’re gone. As if it never happened. You feel a new wave of nausea rising in your stomach.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to speak. "I don’t remember," you confess, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Seungkwan stops laughing, blinking at you like he’s just realized you might be serious. "What do you mean you don’t remember?" he asks, sounding more confused than before.

You press the heel of your hand to your forehead, trying to steady your dizzying thoughts. "I... I can’t remember what he said back. And that’s worse than not hearing anything at all."

Seungkwan’s face falters for a second, then the teasing glint returns in his eyes. "Well... you have to face him, right? He’s literally just down the hall," he points out, his voice softening as he sits on the edge of your bed. "And you’re gonna have to talk to him eventually. You can’t avoid him forever."

You frown, looking at him as if he's spoken a foreign language. "And why the hell not?"

Seungkwan leans in, his finger counting off the reasons like he’s been preparing for this moment his whole life. "One: he’s our best friend. Two: he lives down the hall, not in another universe. And three..." He pauses, dramatically. "He’s your BEST FRIEND."

You groan, rolling over and burying your face into your pillow, desperate to block out the light, the noise, and Seungkwan’s well-meaning logic. "You already said that," you mumble into the fabric, wishing the pillow could swallow you whole.

"I’m emphasizing," Seungkwan replies, sitting back in a huff. "Emphasizing that he knows you like the back of his hand, stupid. He’s not gonna let you avoid him."

You moan into the pillow. "I can’t even think about facing him right now, Seungkwan. Not today."

"Tough. You’re facing him eventually, whether you like it or not," Seungkwan says, but his voice softens, his hand brushing your back comfortingly. "But hey, I’m your best friend. I’m here to support you through whatever happens."

You just grunt in response, curling back into the pillow like it might somehow shield you from reality. "Great. As long as you’re here to watch me suffer."

Seungkwan grins, his voice full of mischief. "That’s the plan."

You can feel the weight of your poor life choices pressing down on you as you sit in the overpriced, over-crowded coffee shop, nursing the lukewarm disaster that is your latte. It's one of those days where everything tastes like regret—coffee included. Your laptop screen blurs as you try to focus on your prelab. You're supposed to be working, supposed to be productive, but all you can do is mentally list everything that went wrong in your life in the past 48 hours.

The lab professor? Completely useless. Your grade? Already plummeting. And as for the whole Vernon situation? Yeah, let's not talk about that.

You can feel the throbbing pain in your temples as your mind drifts back to that night—the confession that slipped out of your mouth when you were way too drunk. The look on Vernon’s face... God, you're so embarrassed. If there was a hole to crawl into, you’d dive right in and never resurface.

Beside you, Seungkwan is breezing through his own prelab, the same one you’re supposed to be working on, but it seems like he’s in a completely different world. As usual. He taps away at his laptop, his fingers moving in a rhythm like he’s been here for hours—when in reality, he probably hasn’t even started yet. You scowl at your laptop as the blinking cursor mocks you for not getting anything done.

You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. "God, I hate this class. And I hate that professor," you mutter, rubbing your temples. "Why did I even sign up for this? Why is life like this?"

Seungkwan doesn’t look up from his screen, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Because you're a glutton for punishment. You're just mad because the only thing you're getting out of this lab is the overpriced coffee."

You huff, sloshing your latte around in its cup in a way that makes you wish you could just drown in it. "Yeah, well, I’m about to drown in this lab report if I don’t figure it out soon."

"Should’ve taken easier classes," Seungkwan snorts, and you shoot him a glare. He knows you better than anyone, and he knows you're not the type to shy away from a challenge. You don’t even have the energy to argue, so you let him win this one.

The door chimes as someone enters, and your focus breaks. You glance up, hoping it's just some random student walking in to grab their iced coffee, but no.

Of course not.

You hear that low, familiar voice, the one that makes your heart do a little flip. "Is this seat taken?"

No. No. Fuck.

There, standing by the table, looking like he belongs in some glossy magazine for college students who know how to look effortlessly cool, is Vernon. The guy you still haven’t figured out how to face after that monumental fuck-up of a confession two days ago. And now? Now he’s standing there, staring at you and Seungkwan with a hesitant smile, probably wondering if it’s safe to sit down or if you’re about to sprint out of here like a coward.

Seungkwan, the absolute bastard, beams at Vernon. "Oh no, it’s totally free," he says, too eager. He's so happy to make this as awkward as possible. You could almost feel the smugness radiating off him. "Come sit, Vernon. We could use the company!"

Your heart sinks into your stomach as Vernon takes the seat across from you, not missing the subtle shift in your posture. He looks at you with those eyes of his, eyes that are both too warm and too intense, and you feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You can’t look at him. You can’t.

You force a smile, but it feels like you’re pushing your lips together with a crowbar. "Uh, yeah. Just working on it," you mumble, barely even aware of what you just said. Your brain is too busy doing its best to not short-circuit. You take another sip of your latte, hoping the caffeine will somehow pull you together. It doesn’t.

Seungkwan, the little devil, doesn’t help at all. He’s practically radiating glee, enjoying your discomfort far too much. "Yeah, Y/N here is just dying to finish her part of the report," he says, clearly trying to get a rise out of you. "But it's okay, she’s doing just fine! Aren’t you?" He shoots you a wink, but Vernon doesn’t catch it—thank God.

Your eyes flick to your screen, looking for any excuse to not talk to Vernon right now. You just need to not look at him. "Actually, I forgot something," you blurt out, standing up abruptly, not even thinking it through. "I just... I need to grab something. I’ll be back in a second."

You don’t wait for anyone to respond. You don’t even look at Vernon as you grab your bag and make a hasty retreat to the counter. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and your breath feels shallow. This was a terrible idea. Why did you invite him to work on the prelab in the first place? Was it because you wanted an excuse to spend time with him? To not feel so much?

You don’t know.

You leave the cafe altogether, your mind racing, and find yourself walking aimlessly for a few minutes, trying to cool off. The cold air outside stings your cheeks, but it’s a welcome distraction from the heat of embarrassment still flushing through your body.

You pull out your phone, needing something to take your mind off everything. It pings almost immediately with a message from Seungkwan:

Boo 🍊: so... how long are u gonna avoid him

You laugh weakly, but it’s more from disbelief than anything else. You text back quickly:

Y/N: i’m not avoiding him

Y/N: i’m just

Y/N: strategically distancing myself until i can look him in the eye without dying of shame

Boo 🍊: ur not gonna go back to the cafe because its too much?

Your phone dings again in quick succession. 

Boo 🍊: u realize ur only making it worse right

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip to suppress a groan. Oh god, Seungkwan, shut up.

Y/N: i’m already halfway across campus

Y/N: oh well, can’t exactly go back now

Boo 🍊: he looks like you kicked him in the nuts and then ran away btw

Boo 🍊: i’m keeping him company 

Boo 🍊: ur not getting away with this btw i’m never letting u live this down

You exhale loudly, already feeling the weight of your decision in the pit of your stomach. What did you think would happen? You’ve messed this up royally. Again.

Y/N: I hate you so much.

Boo 🍊: no u don’t !  you’ll see him again soon. probably tomorrow

Y/N: fuck you

Boo 🍊: love u too! don’t worry i’ll handle this 

Boo 🍊: good luck with that prelab see u at home <3 

You slump your shoulders in defeat, staring at the screen of your phone. There’s no getting out of this. You’ve somehow managed to make this even more awkward. Of course, Seungkwan would drag it out. You wouldn’t expect any less from him.

You drag yourself back into the apartment, the weight of your failed escape attempt still heavy on your shoulders. The door slams behind you, and you sigh deeply, almost as if trying to shake the embarrassment off your body. You kick your shoes off and leave them by the door, your bag slung over your shoulder like a dead weight. You’re so done with everything.

The apartment feels like it’s mocking you—seemingly quiet, except for the hum of Seungkwan’s obnoxiously loud voice floating from the living room. You hear the faint click of his phone screen as you shuffle toward the couch. You can practically feel him smirking at your impending doom even before you see him.

Sure enough, when you walk into the living room, he’s lounging on the couch, sprawled across it in his usual dramatic fashion. He’s scrolling through his phone, one leg thrown over the side, looking like he hasn’t had a care in the world since he woke up. 

You throw yourself onto the couch next to him, feeling the familiar softness of the cushions sink beneath you. The weight of the last few hours presses down on your chest. It’s so comfortable here, but you can’t fully relax. Not with him sitting right next to you, clearly enjoying the aftermath of your spectacular mess.

“Don’t even say it,” you groan, pushing yourself into the cushions like they might swallow you whole.

He doesn’t even glance up from his phone. Instead, he lets out a small, knowing laugh. “So... how’s the avoidance game going?”

You just close your eyes for a moment, willing yourself to disappear. “I’m never leaving my room again. Ever.”

Seungkwan bursts into laughter, the sound filling the small apartment and bouncing off the walls. It’s enough to make your skin crawl, but you can’t help but feel a bit of a tug at your own lips. He’s genuinely enjoying your misery, and you hate it. “I mean, it’s been two days, and you’ve already chickened out at the café. That’s a solid record.”

You groan dramatically, rolling your head back against the cushion. “I didn’t chicken out. I just... needed a moment to not make eye contact with him, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Seungkwan says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “That’s why you bolted out of there like a squirrel avoiding a hawk.”

You push his shoulder weakly, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his hoodie. “Shut up, Boo. You have no idea how embarrassing it was.”

“Of course I do,” he says smugly, setting his phone down on the coffee table with a soft thud. “I was the one trying to hold a conversation with Vernon while you were having your little meltdown across campus.”

“Can we please not talk about it?” You bury your face in your hands, muffling your groan of embarrassment.

Seungkwan’s voice is dripping with amusement. “Well, you better figure it out soon. You invited him to our café session, and now you’re running away from your own mess. It’s hilarious.”

You sit up, rubbing your face in exasperation. “I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again.”

Seungkwan shrugs, his grin still wickedly satisfied. “Well, it’s not like you have much of a choice. I mean, unless you’re planning to live in that room of yours forever?”

You lean back against the couch, the soft fabric cool against your skin. You feel the weight of your thoughts settle in again, and with it, the overwhelming desire to hide from the world. “I can’t,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s gonna know I’m avoiding him on purpose.”

“Yeah, he’s not that dumb,” Seungkwan says, flipping through his phone lazily. “But you know what? You could avoid him for a while. You just need to avoid... everything you’re supposed to do, forever.”

You turn your head slowly to look at him. “That’s your solution? Run away?”

“Pretty much,” Seungkwan says, completely unfazed. “But you have to be more creative. Maybe pretend you’re dead? Or like you have the plague?”

You snort, despite yourself, the idea so absurd that it almost lightens the mood. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just start wearing a sign around my neck: Please, don’t talk to me. I’m a walking disaster.”

Seungkwan grins, his eyes lighting up mischievously. “Honestly, I think it’s a good look for you.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hold back a laugh. “You’re the worst.”

Seungkwan stretches out, his grin wide and smug. “Look, I saved you today, but don’t expect me to keep doing this forever. At some point, you’re on your own.” He reaches for his phone, ready to return to his lazy scrolling.

You sit up, the absurdity of the situation hitting you in waves. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out... eventually.”

Seungkwan gives you a side-eye. “Sure you will. But for now, enjoy the free ride, disaster queen.”

It’s just your luck that, of all people, Vernon is your lab partner today. The second your professor calls your name, you feel your stomach twist into knots. You swear your internal groan echoes in the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. Why him?

Across the lab, Vernon’s already tugging on his gloves, eyeing the instructions on the counter like he’s got his shit together. You can’t help but stare at him for a second, the way his hair falls messily across his forehead, the way he moves like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The thought of having to work with him makes you feel like you’ve been thrown into a pressure cooker, and you’re about to explode.

You try to focus, really, you do. But it’s impossible. Your brain keeps wandering back to him. His fucking hums. His stupid little smile. The way his dark eyes flicker up every now and then to make sure you’re still there. It’s like he knows exactly how much he’s fucking with your head, and the worst part? He’s probably not even trying.

A Bunsen burner hisses in the background, and the sound almost makes you flinch, like it's too loud in the otherwise quiet lab. You try to focus on the beaker in front of you. Try to just get through this. But it’s hard when all you can feel is the weight of his gaze on you.

“Got it, Y/N?” Vernon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. He’s leaning against the counter now, watching you with a lazy grin, like he knows what he's doing to you.

Your face flushes involuntarily, and you shoot him a tight smile, hoping to play it cool. “Yeah, got it,” you mumble, though your mind is a jumbled mess. Your hand shakes slightly as you pick up the pipette, and you swear he notices, but he doesn’t say anything. That’s even worse. You hate how easy it is for him to get under your skin.

It’s bad enough that you’re stuck with him, but now you’ve got to get through an hour-long experiment without combusting. The tension is palpable, and it’s making you want to crawl out of your skin.

But then, just as you’re about to lose it, you spot Seungkwan strutting back from the fume hood. You swear you can feel the relief hit your chest like a tidal wave. Perfect.

Seungkwan doesn’t seem to notice you until you’re already walking toward him, your feet moving on their own accord, desperate to make the switch. When he looks up, his gaze flickers over you, and that smirk creeps onto his lips. The one you know too well. The one that says, I’m going to fuck with you now.

“What’s up, Y/N?” he asks, popping his gum. “Need help with the chemical equations? Or is it more of a personal emergency?”

You throw your hands up, exasperated. “I need to switch lab partners, Seungkwan. Like, now.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Really? What’s wrong? Does Vernon’s inability to mix chemicals properly scare you, or are you just that tired of looking at his face?”

You grimace, frustration bubbling in your chest. God, why’s he gotta make it worse? “No, it’s just… I can’t focus with him staring at me every five seconds.”

Seungkwan’s smirk widens, and you can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “Oh, so that’s what it is, huh? You’re not focused because Vernon keeps looking at you like you’re his personal chemistry experiment?”

Your heart rate spikes. Fuck off, Seungkwan. “Shut up, I’m being serious,” you mutter, but you can hear the hitch in your voice, and it makes you want to punch yourself in the face.

Seungkwan doesn’t let up, leaning in closer with that same cocky grin, looking far too pleased with himself. “Is that why you’ve been staring at him for the last five minutes, then?” he teases, and you swear you can hear the little giggle in his voice. “I didn’t realize we were doing that kind of experiment today.”

Your blood goes hot. “Stop it!” you hiss, but you can’t keep the embarrassed flush from spreading across your face. “I just need you to switch with me, Seungkwan. That’s it.”

Seungkwan chuckles lowly, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Oh, okay. So you want me to switch with you just because you can’t handle the heat, huh?” He taps his chin, like he’s thinking about it, but it’s obvious he’s already decided.

“Fine,” you say, voice low but firm. “But only if you actually want me to send that video of you drunkenly crying about chickens to the entire friend group. You remember that one, right? The one where you were saying, ‘Those chickens are my babies, I love them so much’?”

Seungkwan’s eyes widen, and for a second, you swear you see a flicker of panic. You almost smile, but you hold it in. Gotcha.

“No,” he says, shaking his head like he’s trying to backpedal. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I absolutely would,” you reply smoothly, crossing your arms. You can feel the smug grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “So, how about it? You switch with me, or I make everyone’s day a little more interesting?”

Seungkwan looks around the room, clearly considering his options. He’s not stupid enough to let that video go public. “Okay, okay, fine. You win, Y/N. But you owe me for this one, big time.”

You give him a sweet smile. “Deal.”

Seungkwan walks over to Vernon, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Vernon, buddy, looks like you’re stuck with me as your partner today.”

You barely suppress a laugh as Vernon’s head jerks up in surprise. “Wait, what? Really?”

You take that as your cue and grab your stuff, moving toward Chan’s station. You’re feeling lighter already, knowing the rest of this class won’t be nearly as awkward. Chan’s a great guy—easygoing, level-headed, and most importantly, not Vernon. 

You set your bag down on the counter and look over at Chan, who’s already elbow-deep in his notes, completely unaware of the chaos you just caused. “Hey, Chan,” you say, forcing a cheerful tone despite everything. “Looks like we’re partners now.”

He looks up with a bright smile, oblivious to the fact that he’s been dragged into your mess. “Oh, hey, Y/N! Sounds good to me.” He’s so sweet and always so positive, but… well, the thing is, Chan could not for the life of him keep track of chemical reactions if his life depended on it. This could be the worst decision you’ve made today.

You sit down, a little defeated, as you adjust your gloves and open the instructions. You’re partnered with Chan now, but nothing feels quite right. As sweet as he is, chemistry might as well be a foreign language to him. You glance back over at Vernon’s lab station, which, of course, is conveniently located just a few feet away. You can hear the familiar sound of Vernon and Seungkwan’s voices drifting toward you, but you’re so not ready to face them just yet.

You feel your chest tighten as you try to ignore it, but then Vernon speaks again. “I don’t bite, Y/N,” he teases, his voice cutting through the air like a soft command. It’s casual, playful even, but it does nothing to stop the heat that floods your face.

You swallow hard, praying the blush on your cheeks isn’t visible. This is not the moment. Not the perfect moment to have him distract you. Your pulse picks up at the sound of his voice again, and you can almost feel his gaze on you. You don’t look back, but you know he’s probably waiting for a response.

“Y/N?” Chan says softly, his voice pulling you out of your mental spiral. “Are you okay?”

You quickly look away, feeling that familiar heat creeping up your neck. “I’m fine,” you mutter to yourself. “I’m fine.”

Your stomach flips as an idea strikes you—fake sick. You’ve done it before, and it’s a perfect way to buy yourself some time away from Vernon, maybe even the entire day.

Just get through this, and then you can run away forever.

Your body starts to tremble slightly as you put a hand to your forehead, doing your best to sound miserable. “Ugh, I don’t feel so good...”

Chan immediately rushes to your side, concern flashing across his face, and you can hear Seungkwan's snort of disbelief. Vernon looks at you with a furrowed brow, clearly not buying it. But he’s too polite to say anything. “You sure? You look kinda green.”

That’s your cue. You make a dramatic move, leaning over the lab counter, your hands gripping it as if you're about to collapse. Your stomach gives another exaggerated roll as you close your eyes. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” you say in a voice that’s so over the top, it sounds like it came straight out of a soap opera.

You expect Vernon to panic, maybe grab your arm to steady you, but instead, he just stares at you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Really?” he asks slowly, clearly unconvinced. "Or is it that you want to run away again?"

Oh my god. You freeze, horrified that Vernon might actually be onto you. You try to hide your terror behind your palm, rubbing your eyes like you’re just too tired to keep up the act. “No! No... I’m definitely sick,” you say with a cough for added effect.

But Vernon isn’t having it. He places his hands on his hips, shaking his head with a small chuckle. “You’re not even trying to hide it. Just admit you’re avoiding me. What’s the deal?”

You panic, fully aware that your ridiculous performance isn’t going to fool him for long. You grab your bag off the back of the chair with a look of pure desperation. “No, no! I just—uh, I need to go to the bathroom! I’ll be right back, promise!”

Before Chan can protest, you push past him, stumbling out of the lab with as much speed as your shaking legs can muster. You burst out into the hallway, nearly running into a group of students on their way to their next class. Too close. You force your breathing to steady as you walk briskly, acting like you haven’t just staged the most obvious escape ever.

You round the corner, ducking into the nearest restroom. You push open the door, locking it behind you, leaning against the cool tile wall as you try to gather yourself. What is wrong with you?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seungkwan, of course.

Boo 🍊: i was joking when i said u should get the plague idiot

Boo 🍊: ur the worst actor i’ve ever seen

Y/N: i had to ok

Y/N: this is a nightmare.

Your phone buzzes again almost immediately. 

Boo 🍊: ur so obvious it’s kinda gross

Boo 🍊: chan’s gonna fail this lab for u. also. U NEED TO TALK TO VERNON AT SOME POINT

Y/N: not today!

It’s Friday night. One week since that confession. And honestly? All you want right now is a shot of shitty tequila, a cheap beer, and some damn good music to drown out the past seven days. You’re tired of thinking about it. You’re tired of pretending like last weekend never happened.

The second you and Seungkwan step through the door of Mingyu’s house, you're hit with a wave of noise. It’s too loud, the bass too heavy, but somehow, that’s exactly what you need. The house is packed, the kind of party that screams “let’s fuck up everything in the best way possible.” You spot Mingyu behind the kitchen counter, already wearing that signature smirk of his, mixing drinks for whoever’s brave enough to stand in line. But then—of course—your night has to take a turn.

Vernon.

He’s sprawled out on the couch, head bopping to some random SoundCloud rap, looking way too at ease in his flannel and backwards cap. Fucking perfect. You mentally groan. You’d hoped for at least a few hours of peace tonight, but apparently, that’s not in the cards.

Seungkwan nudges you, elbow digging into your side. “Well, well, well,” he says with that knowing grin. “Guess your worst nightmare is here.”

You shove him back, rolling your eyes. “Don’t make it worse.”

“Too late,” Seungkwan chirps. “Now, let’s get some tequila in your system.”

You head straight for the kitchen, not bothering with small talk. The music is too loud, the room too warm, and your head is already swimming with the thought of one thing: tequila. You pull the bottle off the shelf with the same speed as if it’s your lifeline, and without hesitation, you pour yourself a generous shot. No chaser. Just straight into your system.

Seungkwan eyes you carefully from the counter. “Careful,” he singsongs in your ear, his voice dripping with teasing. “That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.”

You shoot him a sideways glance, the corners of your lips twitching upward. “Shut up,” you mutter, then down the tequila like it’s water. The burn sears down your throat, and the warmth spreads through your chest almost immediately.

You reach for another shot when—just your fucking luck—Vernon walks into the kitchen. His eyes land on you instantly, like he knew exactly where to find you. You want to swallow him whole—no, just pretend he's not even here– but you know that’s not going to happen.

“Wow, look who’s getting to the good stuff early,” Vernon says, voice as smooth as ever. His gaze flicks down to your hand around the bottle, and then right back up to your face, and something in his eyes makes you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

Seungkwan shoots you a sideways look, his smirk turning even more mischievous. With a dramatic sigh, he pushes himself off the counter, clearly done with this conversation already. “Alright, well, have fun with that,” he says in a sing-songy voice, clearly aware of how uncomfortable this is getting. Then, he makes his exit, blowing you a mocking kiss from the doorway before disappearing into the living room.

You roll your eyes at his back, shooting him a silent curse with your eyes, but the moment Vernon steps forward, all that annoyance evaporates into something else entirely. Your focus is back on him, and that damn smirk on his face.

“Didn’t know tequila was your thing,” Vernon says casually, leaning against the counter next to you. You move to pour another shot, but Vernon steps closer, cornering you against the counter with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. The proximity is almost suffocating, and you feel your pulse spike in your neck, your heart pounding. You try not to make eye contact, your gaze fixed firmly on the bottle in your hand, as if it could somehow shield you from him.

Vernon’s smirk widens, and he leans in slightly. “Y’know, you need to look at me to make conversation,” he says, voice low and teasing.

Before you can even process what’s happening, his hand slides under your jaw, his fingers gently but firmly lifting your chin until you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a second, you forget to breathe. His eyes are almost burning into you, and you can’t look away—not that you want to.

For a second, you forget about everything. Your entire focus narrows to the guy standing in front of you, the guy who’s been fucking with your head for over a week now. You try to focus, try to snap yourself out of it, but damn—he looks good. Too good. That stupid backwards cap, the flannel shirt that’s just loose enough, the way his jawline sharpens under the dim kitchen light. You swallow, trying to keep your cool, but fuck, he’s too close. Too damn close. You want to push him away, but the closeness has your body freezing, every nerve on edge.

It’s the same feeling you had last week. And it’s happening again.

Fuck. No. This is not how it’s supposed to go.

Your mind races, trying to think of something, anything, to get out of this. Then—like a miracle—Mingyu strolls by, not even realizing the chaos you’re trying to keep under control. You latch onto him like a lifeline.

“Mingyu! HI!” you shout, ducking under Vernon’s arm and making a beeline for him. You grip his arm with a little too much force, probably dragging him away from whatever conversation he was having with someone else. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but you don’t even give him a chance to ask why you’re acting like a madman.

“Long time no see! Let’s catch up!” you practically drag him out of the kitchen before Vernon can say anything, and Mingyu shoots a glance over his shoulder at you. He looks confused, but soon the music envelops you, and he happily throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you onto the dance floor.

The music is a blur of bass and off-key notes, but the tequila in your system helps dull everything, smooths out the jagged edges of your thoughts. Mingyu is practically yelling in your ear, his voice way too loud for the volume of the song, but you can’t help but laugh at his unrelenting enthusiasm. He’s screaming the lyrics to some cheesy pop song—something from five years ago that you can’t even remember the name of—but he’s grinning, and you can’t help but mirror his energy. For a moment, the heat of the room and the chaos of the party become distant, fading into the background, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you forget about Vernon. You forget about everything.

Mingyu pulls you into a ridiculous spin, and you laugh, the sound lost in the music. His arm tightens around your shoulders as he twirls you back into his chest, but just as you feel yourself getting lost in the rhythm, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s Seungkwan.

You swipe the screen without thinking, still caught in the whirl of the dance floor.

Boo 🍊:  he’s staring at you

Your heart drops.

You freeze mid-spin, suddenly feeling too warm, too exposed, like you’re still back in that kitchen, caught between the tequila, the tension, and the pull of Vernon’s eyes. The phone screen flickers in your hand, but you don’t even need to read the message again to know what it means. You know Seungkwan’s been watching the two of you dance around each other, and you know who he is. Vernon’s watching you. He’s staring.

You glance over your shoulder instinctively, and there—across the room, leaning against the doorframe—is Vernon. That tantalizing smirk is still in place, like it’s carved into his face. His eyes are on you, not even trying to hide it, and that stupid look on his face says everything. The way he watches you makes your skin tingle, and the realization hits you harder than the tequila burn in your stomach.

“Yo, you good?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through the noise, pulling you back to the present. You swallow hard, still trying to shake the feeling of Vernon’s gaze on you. You force a smile and nod, but all you can think about is the way Vernon is watching you.

“Mingyu,” you murmur, grabbing his wrist, “I think I need a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Before he can protest, you make a beeline for the kitchen again, your feet moving quicker than you can process. You need space. You need air. The heat of the dance floor still clings to your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the suffocating feeling that’s starting to build in your chest. The tequila's starting to wear off, but your nerves are still shot, and you can’t get rid of the image of Vernon leaning against the doorframe, eyes fixed on you like he’s just waiting for you to make a move.

The kitchen’s quieter, the music a distant hum, and you’re almost grateful for the space, the absence of people. You grab the tequila bottle again, not caring if anyone’s watching. You pour yourself another shot, but before you can even bring it to your lips, you hear footsteps approaching. You don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“I think we should talk,” Vernon’s voice sounds closer than you expect. You try not to flinch, but you can’t stop yourself from stiffening. You move to step away, but then his hand is on the counter next to you, trapping you in place. You don’t want to look at him, not after everything that’s happened.

“I’m serious,” he adds, tone shifting just slightly. There’s a quiet edge to his voice, a softness you’ve never heard before, but it only makes you hesitate more.

You finally raise your gaze, and for the first time tonight, you meet his eyes. His smirk is still there, but there’s something else too—something you can’t quite place.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you say, your voice lower than you intended.

Vernon’s eyes flicker for a moment, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face, but the moment’s gone too quickly. He chuckles lightly, not mocking, but with a sense of finality.

“Fair enough.” He straightens up, taking a step back, giving you a little more space, but still standing there. “But just so you know…” His voice softens again, the teasing replaced with something a little too sincere for your comfort. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Fuck. That’s it. You can’t be here anymore.

You spin on your heel, heading straight for Seungkwan, who’s been knee-deep in a Mario Kart championship with Soonyoung and Seokmin. The game is so intense that Seungkwan barely notices you storming up to him, too busy yelling at the screen as he tries to secure his victory.

“Time to go,” you say, your voice sharp enough that even Seungkwan can’t ignore it.

He looks up from his game, a little confused. “What? We just GOT HERE!”

“TIME TO GO, SEUNGKWAN,” you hiss, a little louder this time, unable to mask the frustration that’s bubbling up in your chest.

Seungkwan groans, annoyed that his Mario Kart dominance is being interrupted, but he stands up anyway, muttering something about the injustice of it all.

But then, like a fucking curse, Vernon appears in front of you, stepping into your path just as you try to make your exit. His presence feels almost too heavy in the moment, his gaze unrelenting as his lips curl into that same familiar smirk.

“Leaving so early?” he asks, voice laced with amusement, and his eyes lock on yours, steady and impossible to ignore. It makes your stomach flip, and you feel that heat in your cheeks you can’t seem to get rid of.

You avoid his gaze, turning your face just enough to escape the intensity of it. “Oh yeah, early morning,” you mumble, desperate to get out of there. “Lots of stuff to do, classes and all…”

Vernon tilts his head slightly, his smirk widening as if he can see right through your bullshit. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” he says, voice matter-of-fact, as if calling out your feeble excuse is somehow amusing to him.

Shit.

You try to force a smile through it, but it feels like it’s made of plastic, fake and thin. You avoid his gaze like it’s radioactive. “Yeah, uh… just, you know—okay, bye!” You nearly shove Seungkwan out the door before Vernon can say another word.

The second the door slams shut behind you, Seungkwan bursts out laughing, his voice loud in the quiet of the carpark.

“You’re such a mess,” he cackles, still trying to catch his breath. “Did you seriously try to pull the early morning classes excuse? Like, no one knows tomorrow’s Saturday?”

You shoot him a middle finger, too tired to even care. “Shut up, Seungkwan. Just drive.”

He laughs harder, but at least he doesn’t push it further. Seungkwan’s car engine roars to life, and as he drives off, the weight of the night slowly lifts from your shoulders. But in the back of your mind, you can still feel Vernon’s eyes on you, like they never really left.

Dinner a week later is nothing fancy—just some ramen you scrounged up after dragging yourself through another shit show of a week. The kitchen, warm and dimly lit by the overhead light, feels like a small refuge, and for a second, you’re fine with being here. The steam rising from your bowl swirls in the air, and you twirl the noodles absentmindedly, trying to ignore the weight of everything slowly settling over you.

Seungkwan’s sitting across from you, casually slurping his ramen, but there’s something in the way his eyes flicker up, a strange glint in them, that makes you pause. The silence stretches for a moment, the kind that feels like it’s waiting for something, and then, as if he can’t hold it in any longer, he drops the bomb.

“Vernon’s coming over later.”

You freeze, a piece of noodle hanging from your chopsticks, your eyes wide. “WHAT?” You nearly choke on the noodles, the shock making you forget to swallow. “Why the hell is he coming over? Are you—seriously?”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a grin that doesn’t match his feigned innocence. “Just to study,” he says, shrugging like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Our lab midterm is in a couple of days, and we can’t figure out the damn ratios for the prelab.”

Your mind stutters, trying to catch up with what he’s saying. Vernon, your uncomfortably charming classmate, is coming here. Of course he is. “Seungkwan, you know I—” You stop, frustrated, searching for words that aren’t quite coming. This is your house, your space, and you’re already struggling with the thought of being alone with him. The awkward tension from the last few days suddenly feels so much heavier now.

Seungkwan, not missing a beat, looks over at you with a teasing grin. “Haven’t you run away enough? It’s been, like, almost two weeks.” He’s got that smirk on his face again, the one that says he knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing all the right buttons to get you riled up.

You glare at him, trying to muster some kind of defense, but your words come out quieter than you expect. “I’m not running away,” you snap, though it’s weak. It’s been two weeks of exactly that. “I’m just—busy. You know, college stuff.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, and you feel your resolve crumble under his knowing look. “Yeah, sure. College stuff. That’s totally why you’ve been dodging Vernon for the past week. Can’t blame you though—guy’s got a way of making things... uncomfortable.” He chuckles at his own joke, but there’s an edge of teasing that cuts too close to the truth.

You groan, rubbing your face in frustration. “Stop making this worse.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Seungkwan shrugs, his grin widening. “Haven’t you thought about actually talking to him? It’s not like you’ve got that much time before he shows up.”

“Don’t remind me,” you mutter, then, more to yourself, “I didn’t plan this. He didn’t plan this. This is... This is all just—” You stop yourself, shaking your head, your words trailing off.

Seungkwan chuckles again, but this time, it’s softer, almost like he’s giving you space to breathe. “Look, I’m just saying, maybe stop running away for once. You’ll figure it out.” He slaps you lightly on the back, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

But before you can even gather your thoughts, Seungkwan’s phone rings. He picks it up immediately, urgency lacing his voice, and you’re taken off guard.

“Seokmin?” He pauses, listening. “What? Is the fish… what? It can’t breathe??” He gasps, standing up quickly. “I’ll be right there, man, I swear! I’m coming now!”

He hangs up, looking at you, his face twisting into exaggerated concern. “Emergency. Seokmin’s fish is dying.”

You blink, disbelief painted on your face. “You’re fucking joking. You’re actually leaving me with Vernon? Alone?”

“Yup!” Seungkwan says, already halfway to the door. “You’re on your own, Y/N! Don’t burn the place down!” His laugh echoes as he bolts out, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring after him in utter disbelief.

Great. Just great.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings. Your stomach does a flip, nerves bubbling in your chest. You almost consider pretending you’re not home, hiding in your bedroom until Vernon leaves. But that’s childish, and you can’t avoid this forever. With a sigh, you pull yourself to the door and open it, finding Vernon standing there, looking annoyingly comfortable with that goddamn grin on his face.

“Hi,” he says, voice teasing but warm. “So, Seungkwan tells me we’re doing some studying?”

You step aside to let him in. The last thing you want is to be rude, but the silence that follows as you both walk to the kitchen feels suffocating. You can practically feel the tension hanging in the air, thick with all the things you’ve been avoiding. His presence lingers, like it’s always been there, and yet it’s different now.

Vernon leans against the counter casually, and you busy yourself with rearranging things on the counter, anything to avoid looking at him. You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t make yourself meet them. Every time you think about what happened, your heart races, and the words you said to him feel like a blur. But they’re always there, hovering on the edge of your thoughts.

Finally, Vernon breaks the silence, his voice softer than before. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You freeze. The air in the room seems to tighten, and his words land with the weight of a trap you didn’t see coming.

“What?” You try to laugh it off, but the sound comes out rough, more strained than you intended. “Pshhhh nooooo.”

“You have.” Vernon pushes off the counter, stepping closer to you. His movements are deliberate, but there’s a softness in them as he closes the space. His eyes remain locked on yours, steady and searching, like he’s waiting for you to crack, to finally admit something. You can’t look away, your breath shallow, the pulse at your neck pounding hard. “And you can’t even look me in the eye. Did I do something wrong?”

His voice is gentle, almost too gentle, and it makes your chest tighten. You shift uncomfortably, your arms folding across your body, a silent defense against the intensity of his gaze. The room feels smaller now, every inch of space filled with the heat between you. You feel trapped, your heart hammering in your chest, yet there's nowhere you'd rather be—and that's the problem.

“No, Vern, I just—” You stop, sucking in a breath, trying to steady yourself. “I said something I didn’t mean the other night.”

Vernon’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something in them—recognition, maybe? The way his lips part slightly, a mix of confusion and understanding. “You didn’t mean it?”

The words hit like a physical blow, and your stomach twists. You want to take them back, but instead, you find yourself retreating into yourself, avoiding his gaze. “I—what?”

“Did you mean it?” Vernon presses, and you swear you can feel his gaze like a weight on your skin. He’s not backing off, not letting this go.

You’re caught. You open your mouth, but no words come out, and the silence between you feels like it’s suffocating. You feel the heat rising to your face, your hands trembling by your sides.

“Mean what?” you finally manage, voice quieter than you’d like.

He steps even closer now, his body inches from yours, and his gaze doesn’t falter. His lips barely part as he speaks, the words lingering in the air between you. “Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N. You told me you loved me.”

The room spins, the ground beneath you feeling unsteady. You blink, your chest tightening as the memory of that night rushes back, sharp and overwhelming. Your hands move restlessly, clutching at the counter as if it’ll keep you from falling.

“But I was drunk—” You stumble over the words, desperate to explain, but his gaze doesn’t waver. His eyes are steady, unwavering, and you can’t escape them.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” Vernon says softly, his voice firm, but there’s no anger in it—only a certainty that rattles you.

“I just didn’t mean to put you on the spot—” You try again, but this time, he stops you, his tone more reassuring than you expect.

“You didn’t,” he says quietly, his hand reaching out, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face in a surprisingly tender gesture. “You didn’t put me on the spot.”

“Okay?” you ask, your voice uncertain. You can’t tell if you’ve just misunderstood everything or if this moment has shifted entirely. You blink at him, still trying to catch up.

Vernon smiles then, a soft, almost affectionate smile, and the air between you shifts. The tension eases just a little, but it’s still thick, like something’s hanging in the balance. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“No…” you whisper, the words coming out almost too quietly, but Vernon just laughs.

“I said I loved you too, idiot.”

You freeze. The words crash into your chest, and you feel the ground tilt beneath you again. This time, it’s harder to recover from. “You—you WHAT?”

Vernon chuckles, his grin widening, and this time, it’s teasing, almost mischievous. “Come on,” he says, stepping closer. His chest is almost brushing yours now. “I love you too. Can you stop running away now?”

“I WASN’T!” you protest, but the words fall flat, not convincing even yourself. Your body is tense, but his proximity makes your heart race in a way you don’t quite understand.

“You were,” Vernon says, his smirk softening just enough to catch you off guard. You feel your knees go weak at the way his gaze softens, like he’s pulling you into something you’re not sure you’re ready for. “But it was kinda cute, y’know?”

Before you can even think of a response, he's right there, too close—like, uncomfortably close. His presence feels like it’s swallowing up all the space between you, and suddenly, you’re backed up against the counter, like he’s somehow managed to get you cornered without even trying. It’s all too familiar, too much like that night at the party. You can’t help but stiffen, but it’s not bad, just... intense.

You can feel the heat radiating off him now, like it’s pulling you in, and the way he’s leaning in just enough that you can’t help but tilt your head to meet his eyes—your heart starts hammering in your chest. Too close. Way too close. Your body wants to take a step back, but you don’t, mostly because you’re pretty sure you’re not even sure where to go from here.

And he knows it. You can see it in the way he’s standing, like he's completely unbothered, like it’s no big deal that he’s got you backed up into a corner. Your shoulders feel tense, but your feet just stay planted where they are, like they’ve been glued to the floor. His gaze locks with yours, and you can feel that pull, that thing that makes it hard to breathe—like your chest is getting tight and you’re not sure if you want to run or stay.

There’s this low buzz in the air between you two, and you don’t know how much of it is him or how much is just your heart freaking out. His breath is right there, close enough that you’re aware of the way it catches every time you look at him. And you can’t even tell if you’re annoyed at how close he’s gotten or if your mind is too distracted by how nice it feels to have him this near.

You’re trapped, but you’re not sure if you mind it. It’s like your chest is about to burst from the tension, or maybe it’s going to stop completely. Either way, you're not entirely sure which one you're hoping for.

“No more running,” he murmurs, his voice low, steady, eyes never leaving yours. There’s no doubt in his tone, no hesitation, like he’s already made up his mind. The space between you two feels charged now, the air thick with the unspoken.

“No more running,” you echo, the words slipping out before you can stop them, and for the first time, they feel right. You’re not sure why, but you believe it.

And then, Vernon leans in, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss is slow, soft at first, like he’s giving you space to catch up. His lips are warm and a little sweet, tasting faintly of mint from the gum he’s been chewing earlier. You inhale through your nose, catching the subtle scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of wood and citrus—that wraps around you like it’s always been there, like it’s familiar. Every part of him seems to make the world outside feel distant, unimportant. The tension, the uncertainty, the past few days—they don’t matter anymore. 

The pressure of his lips increases, more certain now, and the warmth of his mouth sends a flutter through you. You lean in, responding, your hand instinctively finding the chain around his neck, pulling him closer, as if you can’t quite get enough of him. It’s slow, deliberate, like he wants to savor it just as much as you do. For the first time in days, everything feels like it’s in its right place.

When he pulls back, it’s just enough to speak, his lips still lingering on yours. “Y’know,” he says with a playful grin, “We could’ve been doing this two weeks ago if you weren’t so emotionally constipated.”

You laugh, breathless, pulling him closer by his chain. The heat creeping up your neck is almost unbearable. “Shut up,” you protest, half-smiling. “You can’t blame a girl for what she says when she’s drunk.”

“I won’t,” he agrees with a smirk, kissing you again, this time a little more urgently. “But I can’t make any promises about Seungkwan.”

From the hallway, you hear Seungkwan’s unmistakable voice, a triumphant cheer echoing from the door.

[hoshifighting]

is it possible to have a super jealous mingyu and a super clueless reader 🙏 they’re not usually close (and maybe that’s what frustrates gyu) but they’re from the same circle of friends!! reader is nice though she just doesn’t know how to approach him sometimes </3 (she’s actually a shy mess and has a crush on him but shhh) you can end it with some steamy stuff too hehe thank u sm 💗💗

where super jealous ! mingyu finally gathers the courage to confront you because he's totally crushing on you. he's jealous of how friendly you are with everyone and really wants your attention—he craves you so bad, but you are so clueless about it... — WARNINGS: smut, rough sex, jealousy, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, nipple bite, reader have a lil crush on him, mentions of body fluids; cum, kitchen sex, g'spot/clit stimulation.

mingyu’s always been a little too hard to read, like there’s something he’s holding back every time you’re around. maybe it’s just because he’s mingyu—tall, handsome, popular, always surrounded by people who seem to hang on his every word. you’re just… you, quiet and unsure around him, too shy to know how to even start a conversation half the time. it's not like you're intimidated. okay, maybe a little. but still, every time you try to approach him, your throat tightens up, and you end up awkwardly shuffling away.

you guys aren’t exactly close. you’ve been part of the same friend group for a while now, but it’s like there’s this weird, invisible wall between you two. you see him laugh and joke with everyone else, and you wonder why it feels so different when it’s just you and him. he’s always polite, sometimes even too polite, like he’s keeping a distance, but you catch him staring sometimes—like, way more than you think he should be. but every time you try to catch his eye, he looks away like nothing happened. it’s confusing as hell.

he gets weirdly tense when the other guys are around, though, like he’s on edgge. tonight’s no different. you’re at a party, and your friend seokmin is telling some dumb joke that has you laughing way too hard, your hand playfully hitting his shoulder as you double over. you’re not even thinking about mingyu until you glance up and see him across the room, staring. his jaw is clenched, brows furrowed, and there’s this almost angry look in his eyes as he watches the way you’re touching seokmin.

you blink, your laughter dying out as you lock eyes with him for a split second before he looks away, jaw still tight. what the hell is his problem?

you’ve never been sure if he likes you, like actually likes you, or if he just tolerates you because you’re friends with his friends. sometimes he’s so distant, so cold, and other times, like right now, he’s burning holes through you with his stare, all while pretending like you don’t exist. “you okay?” seokmin asks, nudging you gently. you shake yourself out of it, giving him a small smile and nodding, but your mind is already elsewhere—on mingyu, on how weird he’s been acting lately.

the night goes on, and you try to avoid mingyu, but it’s impossible. every time you turn around, he’s there, hovering nearby, watching. the party’s winding down when you find yourself alone in the kitchen, grabbing a drink and trying to calm the nervousness bubbling up inside you. you can feel his presence behind you before you even hear his voice.

“you and seokmin… are you close?”

his voice is low, almost too casual, but there’s an edge to it that makes your heart race. you turn around slowly, and sure enough, there he is, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes unreadable as he stares down at you.

“uh, i guess?” you say, your voice coming out more uncertain than you’d like. “we’re friends. why?”

mingyu’s jaw tightens again, and he looks away, shaking his head slightly. “just wondering. you seem… real friendly with him.”

there’s something about the way he says it that makes your stomach twist. is he jealous? no, that can’t be it. why would mingyu be jealous? you’re not even that close.

“he’s a friend,” you repeat, a little firmer this time, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “just.. a friend.”

mingyu looks back at you then, and there’s something intense in his gaze that makes your breath catch. he takes a step closer, his towering frame suddenly way too close.

“is that all you are to him?” he asks. “just friends?”

your heart is pounding in your chest, and you don’t know how to respond, so you just stare at him, wide-eyed and confused. why is he acting like this? why does he even care?

“mingyu, what—what’s your deal?” you ask, your voice shaky as you take a small step back, trying to put some distance between you. but mingyu doesn’t let up. he moves forward again, closing the gap, his eyes boring into yours.

“my deal?” he repeats, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “my deal is that i can’t fucking stand seeing you with anyone else.”

you freeze, the words hitting you like a truck. what?

“what are you talking about?” you ask, barely able to get the words out. mingyu’s hand reaches out then, cupping your face gently, but his grip is firm, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“i see the way they look at you,” he murmurs. “the way they fucking touch you. and you just… let them.”

you’re stunned into silence, your mind racing to catch up with what’s happening. mingyu’s jealous. of you. of the way you are with other guys. it doesn’t even make sense—you barely interact with him, let alone give him any reason to feel this way. but there’s no mistaking the possessiveness in his voice, the way his fingers tighten slightly against your skin.

“i’m not—i don’t—” you stammer, trying to find the words, but mingyu’s already moving again, his lips brushing against yours, softly at first, almost like he doesn't wants to scare you. but then he kisses you hard, his hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you against him as his tongue slips into your mouth. the kiss is desperate, almost angry.

you moan into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer. mingyu groans against your lips, his hand sliding down to your ass, squeezing roughly as he presses his hips against yours. you can feel how hard he is through his pants.

when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily, your lips swollen and wet from the the kiss. mingyu’s grip on your waist almost bruising as he stares down at you. “nobody else gets to fucking touch you like this. got it?”

you nod weakly, too overwhelmed to do anything else. mingyu’s lips crash against yours again, and this time it’s even rougher, his hands roaming your body like he can’t get enough of you. he breaks the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, his hands immediately moving to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he groans into your neck.

“fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, did you know that? bet you do.” he mutters, his breath hot against your skin as his hands slide down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them and shoving them down your legs. you’re left standing in just your underwear, and mingyu’s eyes darken even more as he takes in the sight of you, his lips curling into a smirk. his hand slides down to cup your pussy through your panties. you can’t help but moan, your body arching into his touch. mingyu’s smirk grows wider, and he presses his fingers harder against your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that have you panting and writhing against him.

“say it,” he demands, his voice rough as he leans down to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “say you want me.”

“i want you,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he continues to tease you. “mingyu, please…”

“fuck,” he groans, his hands moving to yank your panties down before he lifts you up, carrying you over to the counter and setting you down on it. you barely have time to process what’s happening before he’s kneeling between your legs, his mouth on your pussy, licking and sucking.

you cry out, your hands flying to his hair as you throw your head back. mingyu growls against you, his tongue flicking over your clit, wet and filthy.

“you taste so fucking good,” he mutters, his voice muffled as he devours you, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place. “i could eat you all fucking night.”

he stands up then, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks down at you with a smug grin. he pulls you to the edge of the counter, lining himself. mingyu's hands grip your waist as he presses his cock against you, teasing you with slow thrusts that have your thighs trembling. when he finally pushes in, the stretch is almost too much. he’s big—bigger than you expected—and the way he fills you has a choked moan escaping your lips before you can stop it. you slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide, feeling the heat flood your cheeks as embarrassment starts to creep in.

mingyu notices immediately, his brow quirking in that cocky way of his as he watches you struggle to hold back your sounds. “nah, none of that, princess,” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. “i wanna hear you. don’t hide from me.”

he lowers his head, mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking and licking in slow, wet circles that have you gasping. the stimulation has your back arching, your body betraying you as a loud moan slips out. “that’s it,” he groans against your skin, thrusting deeper into you, making your head spin. “so fucking pretty when you moan for me.”

you’re overwhelmed—his mouth on your tits, the way he’s thrusting hard and deep, filling you so perfectly. you barely notice the way your body’s moving, writhing under him, the counter cold against your bare skin, and you realize—fuck—you’re not alone in the house. the thought slams into you like a brick wall, and you push weakly against mingyu’s chest, your voice trembling.

“m-mingyu,” you stutter, your hand pressing against his firm chest, trying to get his attention. he freezes immediately, his hips stilling as he looks down at you “what’s wrong? did i hurt you?”

you shake your head quickly, biting your lip, your heart racing as you whisper, “there’s—there’s people. we’re not… we’re not alone.”

for a moment, mingyu stares at you, and then he bursts out laughing, the sound throaty, rumbling in his chest. “oh, baby,” he says, grinning as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “i already kicked everyone out. it’s just you and me now. so relax, okay?”

the relief soaks over you, and your body melts into the counter. mingyu chuckles, his hands sliding down your sides, thumbs brushing your hips. “there you go,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “now, just relax f’me, princess. let me take care of you.”

his hand snakes between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles that have your hips bucking up into him. you moan, your elbows giving out behind you, making you arch your back from the cold counter. mingyu watches you, “fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans, thrusting hard and fast into you, balls slapping your ass, echoing on his kitchen walls.

you’re too far gone to respond, your head spinning as you feel yourself clench around him. you can’t stop the moan that tears from your throat, your whole body trembling from the strength of his thrusts. mingyu’s grunts mix with your whimpers, and you feel like you’re on the verge of something explosive, that you can barely breathe.

and then he does something—thrusts deep and grinds against you, his hips rolling in a way that hits you just right, and you gasp, your breath catching in your throat. your eyes roll back, your mouth hanging open, and for a second, you’re not even sure if you can breathe.

mingyu freezes, his hand stilling on your clit as he watches you, “hey, hey, you okay?” he asks, his voice quiet but gentle as he strokes your cheek, trying to bring you back. “breathe, baby.”

you nod weakly, gasping for air, but the way he’s looking at you—like he knows exactly what he just did to you—makes your stomach flip, the arousal pooling even more between your legs.

he chuckles, his lips curling into a smug smile as he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back in, harder this time. you choke on a moan, your body arching into him as the pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“yeah? that feel good?” mingyu growls, he starts moving again, picking up the pace, thrusting into you with a rhythm that has you curling your toes. “fuck, i knew you’d like that. let’s see if you can handle it again.”

he grinds his hips against you, hitting that spot over and over, you’re trembling, your legs shaking as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back. it’s too much, too intense, but you can’t stop, can’t even think about stopping.

“mingyu,” you gasp, you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, winding tighter and tighter with every thrust. “i’m—fuck, i’m gonna—”

“cum for me,” he groans, his fingers rubbing your clit faster, his hips slamming into yours. “cum all over my cock, princess. show me how good you feel.”

his words send you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you under his command, your body convulsing as you cry out, your voice breaking as your vision blurs, the world spinning around you. mingyu doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm. his pace quickens, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own orgasm. you can feel him pulsating inside you, his cock twitching, growing thicker inside you as if he was ready to explode.

“mingyu, please,” you whimper, your voice hoarse as you cling to him, your body too sensitive, too overwhelmed. “i can’t—i can’t take it anymore.” mingyu’s grip tightens, his rough hand slipping to wrap around your throat, just firm enough to make your breath hitch, pushing you back into the counter when you try to rise. “almost there, baby,” he pants, his voice rough and hoarse, edged with desperation as his hips slam into you again and again. he’s so close, you can feel it, his thrusts sloppy and erratic.

you barely even register the overstimulation, your body too far gone, too sensitive, too full. every thrust feels like it’s pulling you apart, but fuck, it feels so good you can’t even find it in yourself to complain. instead, a dumb, satisfied smile starts to tug at your lips, your head spinning as mingyu fucks you deeper into the counter, his cock dragging against your walls, stretching you out in ways that have your brain melting into a pile of mush. he’s panting hard now, his breath coming out in shaky gasps, and you can hear the faintest little whines slipping from his throat. mingyu, the guy you’ve been lowkey crushing on for what feels like forever, is fucking you so nasty in his kitchen—your mingyu, usually so composed, moaning like a bitch as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight, dripping pussy.

“fuck, look at you,” he mutters, his voice wrecked as his hand slides from your throat to cup your jaw, forcing your head up so you’re looking into his eyes. “you’re smiling like a dumb little slut, huh? feels good, baby?”

you don’t answer—can’t answer—the words caught in your throat as he fucks you harder, his cock stretching you to your limit, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. the heavy weight of him inside you, the way his thick cock weighs down, presses deep into your slick, swollen cunt, makes you dizzy. your honey’s sticking to his pelvis, every thrust coating his skin in your wetness, slick and messy and so fucking obscene. you’re lost in it, him filling you up so completely, so perfectly, and your body reacts without thinking—arching into him, pulling him closer, as though you need even more, even though you know you can’t take it. but fuck, you want it. you want everything he has to give, every rough, deep thrust that makes your toes curl and your mind blank out.

“mingyu—” you manage to choke out, but it comes out more as a moan than anything coherent. the way he’s moving inside you is almost too much, the pressure, the friction, the way his hips grind into you with every thrust—each one pulling a shaky gasp from your lips.

his hand on your jaw tightens just enough to make you focus. “yeah?” he breathes, his chest heaving with effort, his lips brushing your ear as he groans. “say it. tell me how good i’m fucking you.”

you don’t even need to think. the words spill out of you like they’ve been waiting for this moment forever. “fuck, mingyu, so good—” you gasp, your voice shaking as he hits that spot deep inside you, over and over again. “you’re fucking me so good.”

he moans at that, his cock twitching inside you as if your words were all he needed to make him cum, you can feel him starting to unravel, the control slipping away, and that’s what gets you, that’s what pushes you over the line—seeing mingyu, your crush, losing his shit over you, fucking you like he’s about to die if he doesn't. “almost there, baby,” he groans, his voice rough and broken as he leans down, his lips grazing your collarbone. “just a little more—fuck, i can feel you, you’re so close. gimme one more, yeah?”

you can’t say no, not to him, not to his cock that is stretching you open and making you feel so damn full. and then you feel it—a jaw-dropper pleasure so strong it almost knocks the breath out of you.

“fuck—mingyu—” you gasp, your body shaking, legs trembling as you feel the orgasm slam into you again, wetter this time. your pussy clenches around him, your vision blurring as you cry out, your voice breaking.

mingyu’s breath stutters, his hips faltering for just a second before he starts to thrust even harder, “shit—fuck—” he groans, his voice tight and ragged, he slams into you one last time. his whole body trembles, and you feel it when he finally lets go, when he spills inside you with a whiny moan.

you’re both panting, mingyu’s body collapsing against yours, head laid between your boobs, the weight of him pressing you into the counter, his cock still buried deep inside you as he comes down from the high. then he raises up his face, looking you with the charming smile with the two sharp fangs shining at you, his eyes all nasty, before he bites one of your nipples.

“god, mingyu!”

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!

Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙

Part 1

Rafayel

Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him

Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came

Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn

Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)

Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism

Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.

Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day

Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.

Xavier

Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.

He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night

His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants

Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.

Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming

Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.

Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair

The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.

Zayne

He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that

Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk

Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.

Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.

Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way

Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.

He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.

#ThickDickClub

@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle

[fireinmoonshot]

the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts. 

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder. 

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate. 

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased. 

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research. 

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder. 

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot. 

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others. 

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.” 

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing. 

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.” 

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on. 

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck. 

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries. 

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you. 

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.” 

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door. 

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore. 

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.” 

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange. 

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself. 

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide. 

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are. 

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before. 

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.   

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain. 

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes. 

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

[i2sunric]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄 (p.js)

PAIRING: jay x reader (f)

SUMMARY: on a late movie night, jay can’t resist the sight of you being curled up on his lap and obviously, gets a bulge. how better could you help him, if not by dry humping him?

WARNINGS: just a drabble. dry humping, making out, dirty talking, pet names (baby, good girl, love)

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves

it was late night, both of you not tired enough to fall asleep and decided to watch a movie— but jay couldn’t even concentrate when your head was in his lap, so close to his crotch.

any time you moved, a quiet hum left his lips, but you didn’t really pay attention to it… not until you felt something too solid under your head.

frowning, you raised your head and looked down, gasping “jay?” you questioned and lord, if his name rolling down your tongue didn’t almost make him cum.

“m’sorry, love.” he murmured, caressing your arm “i just can’t help it.”

fact was, the previous night you had already gone at it and your hole was still sore, and he could read it from your expression.

“i know,” he tugged a strand of hair behind your ear “let me do this instead.”

he knew you would offer to give him a blow, and despite how much he loved it, he wanted you to cum as well. jay wanted to bring you pleasure, not only being the one receiving it.

jay helped you sit on his lap, your legs on the sides of his thighs. you settled with your hands on his shoulders and looked at him ever so innocently.

“fuck,” he murmured and latched your lips with his in a quick make out session, his tongue licking your bottom lip to seek entrance.

you parted them and jay rewarded you with a groan, caressing your tongue with his, his hands moving around your body.

he groped your breasts, your waist, your thighs. not a place was left untouched.

his lips then moved down your jaw, prepping smell kisses all around your skin, igniting a fire in you.

your hips unconsciously jerked as he kisses a particularly sensitive spot and he grunted. he took hold of your waist and gently guided you to rock your hips on his.

the pace was slow, but you could feel him whole under you, restrained by the fabric of his sweatpants.

you let out a small sigh, your eyes closing as your core brushed against his bulge, making you feel stars.

“mh… love.” jay kissed your neck once more before looking up at you “you’re always so good for me, so you obedient.”

he cursed under his breath when your hips moved faster, fuelled by his dirty words “you’re such a good girl, mh? aren’t you my good girl?”

you nodded your head, your nails digging in his shoulders as you rocked on him, desperate to bring him to his long awaited release.

“m’ your good girl,” you mumbled quietly “want to make you cum, jay, please.”

lord. you were just so perfect for him.

jay smacked your ass and groped it, making you hump him faster “just like that, baby.”

one of his hands moved to the back of your neck as he pulled you in for another hot kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, slightly nibbling. not strong as to draw blood but enough to let you feel the pressure.

soft hums escaped your lips, all dying down his throat, he drank them all.

his hand found its way under your shirt, flicking your nipples, thankful that you had decided to go bra-less.

“you make me feel so good,” jay murmured on your lips “just you, on my lap is enough to drive me insane.”

you moaned in reply “jay,” you breathed out “baby, i’m so close.”

he smirked and held your hips down, slightly tilting you forward so your clit was directly rubbing against his clothed cock.

you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your juices damp your panties as well as his sweats, showing a small patch.

“you’re close, baby.” jay fanned against your face “gonna cum for me, mh? make a mess all over your panties?”

he added to your rubs, deep bucks of his hips, wanting to send you both to your orgasms.

“you’ll cum all over them,” jay kissed you “and then you’ll give them to me, yeah? i’m gonna nut in them when you’re away.”

just the image of him jacking off with your panties was enough to cloud your mind, making you grasp his shoulders and frenetically move your hips.

“yes, love.” he groaned, his hold on your waist bruising “make us cum.”

at jay’s words, the knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach snapped, your orgasm washing through you, making you squirm and moan out.

at the same time, jay released in his pants with a groan, grasping your hips so tight, both to keep you steady and steady his mind.

“fuck,” he breathed out, leaning in to kiss you deeply, waiting for you to come down from your high.

a faint music came from the tv, the ending credits on the screen, signalling that the movie had finished.

you pulled away to catch your breath, your eyelids heavy, suddenly feeling tiredness.

jay chuckled at such a sight, caressing your cheek “i’ll get us cleaned up and cuddle, how does that sound?”

you leaned him to kiss him again; so happy to have him as your life companion, to take care of you “perfect.”

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Bite my lip just for the taste

nonnie request here

Blurb: Eddie isn’t only good with his hands. He worships the ground you gracefully walk on and he is determined to satisfy you in every way that he can. Your pleasure is his pleasure and thanks to your mutual friend Steve, he might just have a chance to give you what you deserve.

Pairing: Older!Mechanic!Eddie x Reader

Warnings: 18+, lust at first sight, rough!dom!Eddie (careful what you wish for, right?), oral (m receiving), p in v sex, sloppy kisses, naked bodies and underwear description, reader referred to as girl, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), alcohol, characters are of ages 25+ and 30+

-

divider by @cafekitsune

Not only was Eddie Munson phenomenal with his hands when it came to mending cars and tinkering around with bolts and nuts… but he knew a trick or two with his strong muscular tongue and his long skilled fingers; and they weren’t associated with playing guitar or singing a epic chorus.

Eddie knew how to fuck— and he was fucking great at it.

But he couldn’t just come out straight with it and tell you that— he had to ease into it. It was like a dark lustrous dance of longing and need and he didn’t mind if he were in it for the long run.

Eddie wanted you but he knew that perfection took time.

It all began on a sweltering summers day. The metal head was very well educated on how car batteries and engines reacted to intense heat— but no amount of study could have prepared him for the way your car trundled into his garage.

Wiping the sweat from his thick brow he watched how you swung open the door with a tired groan and a chesty grumble. Full of merciless rage as you rattled your hands against the metal plating of the evidently old vehicle. Swearing like a sailor on a sinking ship, “Piece of shit!! I hope they crush you!”

Eddie couldn’t control the way his jaw nearly hit the dusty courtyard floor as your heeled foot struck against the cars front tire multiple times. Your rage wasn’t what surprised Eddie— he was accustomed to watching customers let out their pent up rage onto their dying automobiles. But what stunned him was you. You presented yourself in a way that made Eddie question why you decided to bring your car all the way down to this side of town when you clearly could afford to go elsewhere.

Not to toot his own horn, but Eddie was one of the best mechanics this town had to offer. However, he did hold a reputation that much of the community did not agree with. He had a look that made people uncomfortable— that made them run away.

But not you.

You charged toward him fiercely and determined. You made Eddie shrink in his boots.

“Hi, I’m looking for Eddie? Eddie Munson? I’m told this is his place.” Your sugar coated tongue had Eddie’s mind reeling. The contrast of your actions and your personality made him want to laugh aloud— but he managed to keep his humour to himself. For now. You hoop your keys around your index finger, swirling the metal so they would clank and chime against one another.

“You’re looking at him, princess,” He wipes his large oil covered hands against the dark denim of his jeans, toying with the chunky silver rings that graced his fingers as he drank you in further— having a better view of you now, “How can I help?” He briefly glances over to your car, his two front teeth puncturing his bottom lip as he recalls the way you were attacking it just moments earlier.

“My friend Steve said if anyone can fix this hunk of shit then it would be you.” You offer Eddie a tight lipped smile, your hands resting comfortably on your hips as you also gaze back over at the rust bucket your father gifted you 4 years prior, “She isn’t much to look at, but she meant a lot to my old man so… I sort of have to keep her around, Y’know?” You roll your eyes comically and Eddie hums in acknowledgment, crossing his heavily tattooed arms over his plump chest that is clad in a tarnish white tank top.

“I get it.” He grins and winks at you, walking over to where you had abandoned your prized possession, “I hope Harrington put a good word in for me, his car would’ve been scrapped last year if it weren’t for my talent.”

“He said you were the best… alongside some other things that I best not mention if you wanna keep your friendship with him on good terms.”

Eddie laughs as he leans against the bonnet of your car, his wandering eyes flickering from your skirt that is stretched across the fullness of your thighs and up to your face and all over again. He couldn’t seem to pull his attention away from you.

“It’s unlocked, if you’d like to have a look inside.” You gesture toward the hood of the car which the metal head is leisurely draped on and Eddie’s cheeks warm at the inkling that he was caught gawking at you.

“Yeah, I’ll pop it open. It might just be the heat…”

It was now your turn to rake your eyes over Eddie’s frame as he peers into the organs of your nearly dead vehicle. He was only older than you by a couple of years and yet he seemed much more experienced in life than you did. The tattoos against his pale skin had you nibbling on the plush flesh of your bottom lip. His jeans hung loosely on his hips, held up by a studded black leather belt and above the hem you could see the waistband of his boxer briefs peering out at you.

One thing Steve had failed to mention to you before your arrival was how smoking hot Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was. If you had known sooner, you would’ve dressed up a bit more— maybe you would’ve gotten changed out of your PA office attire.

But still, your tight fitted blouse and shiny black heels would just have to suffice.

“What are you doing right now?” Boldly you move around to meet Eddie’s line of vision. His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion and he flicks his fingers toward the open hood of the car, “No, I mean, after this. What are you doing? Do you.. have plans? Maybe going home to a girlfriend, perhaps?” You weren’t very subtle, but screw it! You saw the hunger in his eyes when you first showed up— he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him and you hadn’t been taken care of in a long time.

You were needy. Desperate. And Eddie may as well have been served up to you on a silver platter!

“Plans? Oh uh… no. Not at all. I uh… I was going to go home and have some shitty wine,” His pink lips perk up into a toothy smile, a knowing smile, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress your own, “Does that maybe interest you? You don’t seem like a shitty wine girl.”

You shrug your shoulders and a transparent smugness settles deep into the apples of your cheeks, “I like shitty wine.”

“The good thing about being your own boss is that you can finish whenever you want.” He slaps the bonnet of the car shut and dusts his large hands against one another, “How about I look at this tomorrow and we can take my car back to mine? Or would you like to check out my ass for a bit longer?” He slyly winks at you and your face tilts toward the ground as you make a feeble attempt to conceal the blazing fire that was torturing your skin.

“Hmmm that depends— can you guarantee that you’re not some psycho and that I won’t end up on the front page of the paper tomorrow?” For someone whose body may as well be a ferness with how hot it is, you sure are making Eddie work for what you both want. Something about him made you brave, but it also made you… timid. Quiet… obedient.

And boy oh boy, Eddie was enjoying every second of the power he had over you.

“How about I let you drive? You have the keys… you have the control.” His husky voice drops an octave as he takes a few steady strides toward you. His gaze penetrates yours and his dangerous eyes have an addictive allure. Captivating and intimidating. Revealing little but knowing much… it was exciting. He excites you.

“That could work…” your voice betrays your facade of confidence and Eddie grins wider at the soft falter in your tone. He could read you like a book. Your inviting body language, the blown darkness in the centre of your glossy eyes and the way you don’t back away from him as he stalks even closer to you. You were his prey… and he was the hunter set on a target.

One of Eddie’s rough calloused hands gently takes yours. He positions your palm flat out toward the sky so he could drop his keys onto it all while his focus on your face remains unwavering, “The keys to the castle.”

“Fitting, since you called me a princess earlier.”

“Maybe I orchestrated this from the beginning?” An entertained eyebrow perks up behind his stringy damp bangs.

“Is that so?” The sound of your hushed voice echoes back at you and your lips part longingly at Eddie’s close proximity. He is close enough to kiss— tasty enough to devour. A banquet of all of the most desirable and finer things in life.

“I saw you in those heels and with those legs… I couldn’t resist. They don’t call me a Eddie the freak Munson for no reason, princess.” There is a clip to his voice, a new intensity piercing through his words like a pin to a voodoo doll.

“You might just have to show me how freaky you really are then, Mr. freak…”

-

Eddie was right. The wine did taste like shit.

You were currently draped across Eddie’s large sofa, the soft suede fabric welcomed the mould of your body as you sunk into airy cushions and you sipped hesitantly from your stemmed glass. Smearing your dark lipstick across the pristine rim as you did.

Eddie was perched on a chair across from you which was cut from the same material as the couch. His feet were planted to the floor and his legs were spread wide; like a King on his throne. There was a coffee table separating the two of you and part of you questioned why he was so far away.

You and Eddie locked eyes, a welcoming and long stare. It was comfortable, patient but growing. Neither of you looked away, but none of you made the first move, either.

Eddie was assessing you. He was trying to figure out how this would go. How it would play out. Who was going to be the dominant one and who was going to submit?

You wanted it to be him. You wanted him to know that you needed your decisions made for you tonight.

You bring your glass of wine back to your mouth, taking a small drink and proceeding to lick and bite your lip afterwards. An unspoken invitation that Eddie silently accepts.

The warm light that glows from the table lamp next to you illuminates Eddie in a gorgeous orange hue, darkening his tattoos and brightening the metal around his fingers and his neck. You envision how he would look above you— glistening in sweat with his necklace shimmering as it dangles atop of your face. The image nearly causes you to whine aloud.

Nearly.

You surveyed your surroundings, “This is a nice place you have— very cozy.” You place your wine glass on a coaster, coming back to snuggle into the pillows of the sofa and Eddie hums, pleased.

“It’s no bachelor pad but it’s home.” He tilts his nearly empty glass toward you and a mischievous smile toys with the edges of his lips, “Thank you.”

He finishes his drink with one swift movement before he is leaving his post from across from you. You watch him with blown eyes, eyes that are bright and eager. He settles his lean and sturdy physique against the door frame that leads into his kitchen space.

Your heart rate quickens with anticipation and your hips squirm beneath you as you try and remain confident under his abysmal and sinful demeanour.

You were overly aware of the lewd events hurtling toward you and the excitement of it causes your face to flush with colour.

“I’ve never fucked a girl in heels before… I think you should keep them on.” He prowls toward you, his body language animalistic and focused.

He’s been wanting to pounce on you from the moment you stepped foot through the door— but Eddie is a gentleman and gentlemen take their time.

Eddie was in front of you now. His eyes such a deep shade of chocolate brown that they seemed to swallow the light rather than reflect it. They were adorned by long dark eyelashes that you were envious of and strong clean eyebrows that framed the chiselled structure of his face. He looked like a painting. Like he wasn’t real.

“I… I can keep them on.” Your face tilts toward your feet as you try to remind yourself of the appearance of the shoes that you chose to wear that day however Eddie is quick to tensely grab you by the flesh of your cheeks and snatch your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me.” His voice is a hushed purr as his nose teeters on the edge of brushing yours, “I wanna see your pretty face.”

His grip remains tight and it forces your lips into a cute pout which Eddie coos at, “I wanna kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod your head feverishly. Without wasting a single second your lips finally met, tinged with impatience. His lips were magnificent, full and defined and soft. His tongue tastes of alcohol and mint and you moan at the contact of his wet tongue wrestling against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip and your eyes are lidded as your fingers touch the exposed skin of his shoulders with a feathery graze; causing goosebumps to arise on Eddie’s inked skin.

“I need to know that you want this…” He breathes heavy laboured breaths, “That you want me to take control. I like it rough, baby, so we need to have a safe word… okay? Safe word is Cherries. You got that?” His domineering mask slips for a quarter of a moment as his black hues sweeten. You nod again, your mind clouded with lust and desperation.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“Cherries is the safe word.”

“Clever girl.” Without a beat Eddie is dragging you up and onto your feet. You are wobbly on your legs for a moment but you are fast to regain composure. As Eddie goes to lead you through to his bedroom you stop, your body set alight.

“Eddie can I… can I taste you first?” You are a blushing mess as the words drool from your lips. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since you seen him man spreading in front of you in his armchair earlier. You wanted to dip down between his thighs and make his cock twitch with need, “Please.”

The metal head looked bewildered for a moment however he quickly welcomed the request. How could he possibly deny such a sweet girl when she asked him so politely?

He walks the both of you over to the comfortable chair, sitting himself down and allowing his hands to have free roam of your ass and hips, “Ask me as nicely as that and I’d give you anything you want, princess.” The pet name was now tainted with naughty intention as it rolled off of his slick tongue and your knees weaken at the sight of him gazing up at you.

It was nice to be able to study a man features without any shame or embarrassment. You were so used to stealing glances at attractive men but the visual feast sitting in front of you was enjoyed without any guilt.

You offer Eddie an intoxicated smile as his eyes venture over your face, your neck, your breasts and your exposed legs. You weren’t worried about the way your body looked— there was something so calming about Eddie that struck a match of confidence within you and he seemed to like what he was looking at.

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He rips down your skirt from around your waist, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you stood in the pile of bunched fabric. His hands work quickly on your blouse and Eddie growls at the sight of you. Nothing to you but your matching lace underwear set and your heels.

Your nipples peak at the change of temperature in the room and the sly man pinches them with the tips of his slender fingers, rolling the buds mercilessly and smirking devilishly as he does. The action causes a soft whine to emit from your throat and Eddie’s lips perk into a grin at the sound. He was obsessed with you.

“Kneel.”

And you do. The bones of your knees meet the floor with a pathetic thud and Eddie smooths the palm of his hand across the softness of your hair; enticing you that he will be gentle at first but he yanks the strands seconds later, causing you to yelp.

“Open up. I wanna see if I’ll fit.”

Bracing yourself with your hands on his jean clad knees you unhinge your jaw, opening wide as Eddie slots two of his fingers onto your tongue and they slide deep in the crevasse of your mouth. They tickle the back of your throat and your thighs clench together at the thought of him fucking of your face.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I’m sure you can handle it. Right, hon?”

“Yes. I can take it. Please…” You babble around his digits.

There you are again with your manners and your begging bambi eyes. It awakens something within Eddie— something that had been sitting dormant but has now stirred from its slumber. A darkness. A line he had never crossed but he was so close to it now. He wanted to own you. He wanted you to belong to him… to be his and only his.

“Go on then, baby. He’s waiting.” He winks at you and your adrenaline shaken hands find the zipper of his jeans. Eddie’s thick bulge strains against the stiff denim and you chew on your bottom lip furiously as his long and full shaft springs from his boxer briefs.

Your mouth salivates at the sight and you look to him for permission, which Eddie gives, before you are popping his throbbing tip into the hot cave of your mouth. A vibration travels down Eddie’s cock and reaches his balls as you moan around him. He felt so good— so natural to have him in your mouth. Like sucking on your favourite treat.

“Fuck— that feels so good.” Dark curls spill onto the back cushion of the chair and Eddie’s hands fist your hair into a ponytail, guiding your slobbering mouth up and down the length of his aching cock.

Your mind was blank of anything except for Eddie’s body and the way he felt inside of you. He hadn’t even penetrated you yet and your panties were dampening with slick more and more with every passing bob of your head.

“Shit—“ Eddie seethes through clenched teeth, his hips rocking up to meet your sloppy movements and he punctuates each thrust with a rewarding moan. “I need to feel you.” It was abrupt, the way he ripped your mouth away from him— but you understood. You needed to feel him too. You hadn’t felt this desperate for anyone before; this sultry and seductive. This needy and submissive. You didn’t want this night to end.

You cant contain the soft pants that leave your throat, a mixture of excitement and arousal as you climbed onto straddle Eddie’s thighs. His body felt hard and masculine beneath your touch and you shivered at the way he laid a harsh spank to the meaty flesh of your ass.

“As innocent as you look, you really are just a dirty little slut, huh?” He slaps you again, this time harder than the last and you nearly collapse against his chest. Eddie laughs mockingly, forcing you to sit upright as his fingers plunge down into the soaking fabric of your panties.

You gasp, your already primed body becoming slippier as his fingers thrust softly into you— testing the waters.

“Such a wet pussy, all for me…” His fingers twitch inside of you and you release a sound which can only be described as a moan combined with a helpless whine. With his free hand Eddie rips your breasts from the confines of your bra, allowing the skin to spill free.

His tongue bathed your breast while he used his teeth, giving you peppered bites that shot pleasure through your body like a lightning bolt. He drew your coiled nipple into his mouth and he let his teeth roughly drag over the tip. You moaned loudly. He leaves your breast and looks up into your face.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock.” His voice is a clipped and cool demand.

“I want you to fill me up so bad. I need it, Eddie. Please… fuck, I want it more than anything.” Your hips grind against his fingers and your words must’ve struck Eddie in a pleasant way because before your brain has any time to catch up to his ever changing movements, his fingers are pulling your panties off to one side and his cock is teasing and toying with your dripping hole.

The eye contact between the pair of you was intense as Eddie’s entire length slowly slid inside of you. Your breathing catches in your throat at the stretch of him. Before long, Eddie settles inside of you and your eyes remain shackled to one another. Sex with a stranger shouldn’t be this intimate— so you screw your eyes shut.

Big mistake.

“Open your fucking eyes,” He snarls, his hand grabbing your throat harshly as he pulls your body down toward his, “I want you to watch me as I fuck you.” Your eyelids snap open and Eddie’s features are slack but intimidating as he looks at you. The feeling of being brutally and totally full was almost too much for you to stand. Too much for you to handle. He pulls back from you and begins to thrust.

“Wait—“ You plead and your hands find Eddie’s chest as you support yourself on top of him, “I just need a moment to adjust… you’re so big.” You squirm at the pulsing of your walls around Eddie’s shaft and he grins egotistically up at you.

“Perfect thing to say.”

He repositions his grip onto the back of your thighs, slowly readjusting himself beneath you and easing himself in and out.

“Okay,” you breathe with a soft nod, “You can fuck me now.”

Eddie sensed that your body was ready for his size and he then started to brutishly slam his body into yours. Unbelievably erotic sounds hit your ears as you feel and hear his hips slapping against yours. Sticky skin meeting sticky skin.

“Feels like someone is fisting my dick.”

“Wettest little pussy I’ve ever fucked, yknow that?”

“Shit, I could cum from just the sight of you.”

“Listen to that, baby. You hear how much your pussy is loving my cock?”

“Keep those stunning fucking eyes on me.”

Eddie’s deep grunts and moans mixed with his dirty commentary only heightened the erotica. You’re gentle to take his hand into yours, timidly welcoming two of his fingers back into your mouth as you bound up and down to meet the crack of his hips against yours. Eddie’s eyes gloss over from the view of you above him and his thrusts get snappier and more intentional. Harsher. Quicker. Deeper.

As his cock fucks your sweet hole, his fingers are busy fucking your mouth as well. He took note of how much you liked to have him in your mouth— no matter what part of his body that may be. Eddie got an inkling that this would be the first of many nights together. And he wasn’t mad at the idea— he was actually thrilled by it. It spurred him on.

“Rub your clit for me, sweet girl.” It was as if you were in a trance and the only thing you were able to do was obey Eddie’s every beckon and call. Your finger tips find your sensitive bundle of nerves and you sigh out in complete bliss at the euphoria that shocks up every vertebrae of your spine.

“That’s it, baby. I want you to cum so fucking hard. I’m getting so close— want you to cream all over my cock.”

The speed in which your fingers circled your clit increases and your eyes fight to stay open. You could feel the desperation punctuated in every one of Eddie’s quickened thrusts and you feel that familiar build coming to build in your tummy.

“Fuck— I’m gonna cum. Keep rubbing that clit, baby. You’re being such a good girl for me.” His tired pants fill the air and your mind whizzes and bubbles as you whine out loudly.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, of fuck!” Your mouth gapes open wide, mirroring the sweaty sex symbol below you and your eyes widen as your orgasm floods your every cell. Shaking your body from head to toe. You feel Eddie’s cock swell inside of you— causing your high to continue

“Shit!!” A yell breaks past Eddie’s swollen lips as his orgasm hits. You watch as his face contours as he cums inside of you. His eyes squint shut and his mouth is pulled into a grimace. The veins on his forearms bulk and tense. It was the sexiest thing you had ever fucking seen.

Your heart paced rabidly in your chest as you both breathed heavily, trying to control the heaving of your chests as you both came down. You’re relying on Eddie’s body to keep you from collapsing and Eddie is wise to this. His strong arms wrap around your body as he pulls himself out of you, bringing you to rest on his chest.

Too tired and sated to do anything else, you press yourself against Eddie’s bare and empty sack, grinding lightly down onto the tender flesh of his balls and the noise that leaves Eddie’s throat is indescribable.

You shoot up to look at him and it’s now your turn to smirk and it’s Eddie’s turn to flush a shade of bright red.

“Ignore that.” He coughs to clear his oesophagus, followed by a light hearted chuckle as you come to lay back against his limp body and a knowingness fills your mind.

This wasn’t just going to be a one night stand… and this wasn’t the last time you were going to be laying on top of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.

This was just the sweaty, sexy beginning.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @jasminelafleur

[take-it-on-the-run]

Not A Lot, Just Forever

Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader

After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.

The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.

“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”

You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.

“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.

Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.

“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.

You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.

“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.

The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.

“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.

I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.

The next morning wasn’t any better.

Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.

You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.

You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.

You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.

“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.

Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.

He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.

You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.

“Y/N.”

Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.

“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.

Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.

“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”

You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.

“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.

A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.

“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”

Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.

“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”

Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”

You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.

Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.

Dean.

You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.

What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?

Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.

What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?

For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You can come in, Cas.”

Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.

“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”

I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Fuck me.

That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.

After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.

“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.

You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.

“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.

Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?

“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.

“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.

“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”

“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.

Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.

You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.

They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.

Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.

Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.

“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.

“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.

You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.

Dean.

The other voice was Dean.

You moron, who else would it be?

The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.

“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.

You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.

“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”

“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”

A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.

Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.

“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.

“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.

“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.

Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.

Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.

“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”

“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.

“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”

Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Do it, now. Just say-

“I’m pregnant.”

The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.

“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.

“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.

His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”

You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.

“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time

“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.

You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.

A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.