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letsgetbigger · 7 months ago

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A Big Team

Part one

The university was gearing up for the start of a new football season. Their team hadn’t had good results in recent years, and the administration decided it was time for a drastic change. So, they invited Samuel Reeve, their most outstanding former star, to take the reins as the new coach. Samuel, 38, accepted the offer, leaving behind his monotonous office job and the small apartment he had rented for the past few years.

At 330 pounds, well distributed on a robust frame, Samuel was an imposing man. Despite having a round and prominent belly, his musculature was evident, reminding everyone of his glory days on the field. His attractive face didn’t go unnoticed either: piercing eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a confident smile. However, he harbored a very personal secret. He got turned on by making other men gain weight. And with his new role as coach, he saw the perfect opportunity to fulfill his most intimate desires without raising suspicion.

One Saturday morning, Samuel woke up in his new apartment on campus and dressed in his coaching uniform. He briefly admired his reflection in the mirror. The tight shirt accentuated his figure, giving him an unquestionable air of authority. It was a new beginning, and he was determined to make it memorable.

He left the apartment and took a deep breath. Walking confidently toward the stadium, he enjoyed the familiar atmosphere. The red brick buildings and wide tree-lined avenues reminded him of his days as a student and player, but now he was back with a different mission.

He arrived at the stadium and headed to his new office. He took a moment to observe the space. The walls were decorated with trophies and photos from his playing days, a clear testament to his legacy. The desk, though simple, was tidy and ready for the tasks ahead. But best of all, a door led directly to the locker room from his office, and if left open, he could even see the showers. The view from his chair gave him a strategic advantage. He would be able to observe the players without them noticing. Samuel smiled to himself, imagining the future. He didn’t just want to win games; he wanted to make his boys grow in a very particular way. He was eager to meet them and start implementing his plan.

Finally, the players started arriving at the locker room to change. The noise of conversations and laughter filled the room. There was a lively atmosphere. From his office, Samuel watched every detail with growing interest. The players undressed naturally, stripping off shirts, pants, and underwear before putting on their uniforms. Some were chubbier, and others were slimmer. However, three players caught his attention because they looked like Greek gods carved in stone.

The first one was Axel, a beefy blond with a beard. His muscles were impressive, each of them perfectly defined and visible even under the locker room’s dim lights. His nipples were large and pink. He wore boxers that comfortably hugged his glutes, enhancing his figure. As he undressed, his arms and torso tensed and relaxed with natural grace.

The second player was Marco, a Latino with dark skin and dazzling eyes. His thighs were wide and powerful, a clear display of his strength. Although what really stood out was the size of his penis, which seemed even larger when he took off his tight briefs to put on a jockstrap. Marco had an innate confidence, and moved with an ease and charisma that attracted all eyes.

The third one was Jamal, a young Black man with a perky butt that immediately drove Samuel crazy. Jamal also wore briefs. These accentuated his firm, rounded glutes. His body was a work of art, with defined muscles and shiny skin that reflected the light. When he bent over to pick something up or simply turned, his butt swayed provocatively. And he had a contagious laugh.

Samuel couldn’t take his eyes off them. Axel, Marco, and Jamal were the embodiment of physical perfection. He decided it was time to introduce himself. He got up from his chair, adjusted his uniform, and stepped out of the office.

As he entered the locker room, the noise quieted down, and all eyes turned to him. Samuel smiled, ready to get to work.

“Good morning, guys,” he said firmly. “I’m Mr Reeve, your new coach. I’m here to lead this team to victory. You need to gain strength, clearly, and to do that, you’ll need to put on some weight.”

A murmur ran through the room. Some players exchanged worried looks, while others frowned.

“Listen up,” he said, raising a hand to silence them. “You’ve lost nearly every game in recent years. I’m convinced that gaining weight and building muscle mass will change everything. To achieve this, you’ll not only continue training hard on the field and in the gym, but also follow a strict plan of meals and protein shakes I’ve prepared for you.”

Samuel handed out a sheet with detailed instructions. The protests began immediately. Some players looked at the papers in disbelief, others with evident annoyance.

“It’s too much,” Marco said, looking up from his sheet. “With all this, I’m going to get fat.”

Samuel looked at him intently, challenging him with his dark eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked seriously, his voice echoing in the locker room. “I’m the best player this team has ever had. You shouldn’t question me. If you follow my instructions, we’ll win.”

The room fell silent. Marco, quiet, slowly nodded, accepting Samuel’s superiority and experience. The other players, seeing the determination in their new coach, began to review the plan with less resistance.

“And now, off to the field. Let’s see what you’ve got to offer.”

They stood up and left the locker room. As Samuel followed them outside, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. This was just the beginning, and he was determined to see his fantasies come true, pound by pound.

Part two

After a month of rigorous training and a high-calorie diet, the young athletes showed undeniable changes in their bodies. Without exception, they had each gained around 20 pounds. Samuel watched them from his office as they showered.

Marco stood with his back to the stream of water. His previously defined abdomen now had a slight layer of fat that softened his muscles. Marco’s long penis contrasted with the growing roundness of his belly. His already wide thighs had become even more imposing. And his pecs had grown as well.

Axel, meanwhile, was slowly lathering himself. His muscular torso had a bulkier appearance. His large pink nipples stood out even more on his firm chest, now slightly covered by a new layer of fat. His belly had begun to round, burying the lines of his abs. As he rinsed off the soap, his muscles and the added fat under his skin moved in harmony, giving him a chunky appearance.

Jamal, standing under one of the showers, was in profile, offering Samuel a privileged view of his perky butt, which had grown in size over the last month. His glutes remained firm but rounder, with an extra softness. His hips had widened slightly, and the definition of his muscles overall had mixed with the new fat.

Samuel couldn’t stop staring. The transformation of those physiques, the result of his meticulous plan, was exactly what he had hoped for. His cock hardened, an uncontrollable reaction to the spectacle before him. Sitting at his desk, he observed every detail, every new curve, every pound gained.

That week, they played their first game and, to everyone’s delight, won. The atmosphere in the stadium was of pure joy, and the players were ecstatic about their victory. After the game, Samuel was called to the dean’s office to discuss the team’s impressive performance. Following a brief conversation filled with praise, he returned to his own office with satisfaction.

Upon opening the door, he found a scene of wild celebration in the locker room. The players, freshly showered and in their underwear, were singing and jumping. The accumulated fat on their bodies over the last month bounced in increasingly tight underwear. Suddenly, one of the players grabbed Marco’s large package.

“Your girlfriend’s gonna be happy, huh?” he said with a mischievous grin.

Marco slapped the hand away, laughing along with the rest of the team. Another player approached Axel and, pinching his nipples playfully, exclaimed:

“Look at the tits this one’s got now!”

The laughter grew louder as Axel blushed slightly. Then the guy next to him poked his now-rounded belly.

“And what a gut!” he added.

Axel, maintaining his composure, replied:

“If I weren’t this big, I wouldn’t have tackled that aggressive player from the other team.”

The others nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words.

“Besides, what’s grown the most isn’t my gut, it’s this.”

He approached a distracted Jamal and slapped his butt. Jamal’s cheeks, squeezed into too-small briefs, jiggled like jelly. More players started doing the same, seeing the opportunity. They laughed non-stop. One of them even pulled down Jamal’s briefs, revealing his huge cheeks. The shouts and whistles were immediate.

Samuel, watching the scene from his office, felt a wave of desire he couldn’t control. He discreetly closed the door, ensuring no one saw him. The sight of his fattened players, their rippling flesh, and their uninhibited camaraderie turned him on. His hand slid into his briefs. The vision of Jamal’s perfect, exposed glutes, quickly brought him to climax. He felt an explosion of pleasure as he came inside his underwear, filling it with hot jizz.

The victories continued as his boys’ bodies expanded. After another couple of months, the changes in their physiques were even more pronounced. In the locker room, after another exhausting practice and shower, the players dried off with towels, showing the results of their special diet.

Jamal dried off slowly. His butt, always large, was now impressive. Its fat jiggled with each step. He still wore the same briefs, which stretched to their limit to contain his fat cheeks, leaving his butt crack exposed, a sight Samuel found irresistible. The elastic waistband dug into his flesh, highlighting his volume even more.

Axel dried his blonde beard. His torso had gained a noticeable amount of fat, softening the muscles beneath. His belly had rounded significantly, and his pecs, once hard and defined, now looked like small mounds of fat with pointy nipples that wiggled with every movement. As he tried to pull up his boxers, they struggled to contain his new size. The elastic waistband dug into his waist, and his glutes, though not as bulging as Jamal’s, were also partially exposed.

Marco stood in front of his locker, dropping his towel. His body showed a thick layer of fat. His round belly hung slightly, and his wide thighs rubbed together with each movement. His briefs were so tight they squeezed his big cock. And every time he moved, his butt bounced.

Samuel, watching from his office, noticed Marco’s head was down, an expression of sadness on his face. He decided to approach him to see what was wrong.

“Marco, what’s going on?” he asked.

Marco sighed and grabbed his large belly with both hands, shaking it. His tits and genitals moved with the jerks, a sight that made Samuel gulped.

“My girlfriend left me because of this,” Marco said, his voice filled with disappointment.

Samuel tried to maintain his composure as his heart raced.

“Listen, Marco. If she can’t see beyond the surface, then she doesn’t deserve you. You’re more than your appearance, and everyone here knows it.”

Marco nodded, but the sadness in his eyes didn’t entirely disappear. Samuel, feeling his control slipping, quickly retreated to his office. He closed the door behind him and looked down, confirming that pre-cum had stained his shorts.

At the next practice, Samuel watched proudly as his players wore the new, larger uniforms tailored to their new bodies. During a break, Jamal approached with a look of discomfort on his face.

“Coach, I’ve got a pain in my shoulder,” he said, rubbing the affected area.

Samuel, always ready to take care of his players, offered a physical therapy massage in his office, where he had a treatment table prepared. Jamal accepted, and they agreed to meet that afternoon.

When Jamal arrived at the office, he wore a tight t-shirt that highlighted the curve of his belly and jeans that fit snugly around his hips and thighs. The clothes emphasized his bulk and evidenced his size. Samuel welcomed him with a professional smile, though his mind was full of lustful thoughts.

“Let’s work on those tense muscles, Jamal. Take off your clothes and lie on the table.”

Jamal nodded and began to undress. First, he took off his t-shirt, revealing his rounded abdomen and large pecs with firm, dark nipples. Then he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his sturdy legs, revealing thick, powerful thighs. He was left in a pair of newly purchased XL gray briefs that hugged his hips and butt provocatively.

He lay face down on the table, and Samuel got closer with a bottle of oil in hand. He poured some of the liquid into his palms and began massaging the tense shoulders, working with skill and firmness. As his hands moved, he couldn’t help but notice how Jamal’s enormous glutes swayed with the movement. Samuel’s eagerness intensified as he continued massaging. The sight of those big buttocks moving under the thin fabric of the underwear was overwhelming.

“I’m going to relieve the tension in your glutes too, Jamal. Relax.”

With a steady hand, he pulled the elastic waistband of Jamal’s briefs, lowering them with some difficulty. The smooth skin of his cheeks was exposed. It shone under the light with the oil Samuel applied directly from the bottle. Feeling the fat under his fingers for the first time was an incredible sensation. It provided a combination of firmness and softness he found very tempting. Jamal began uttering involuntary moans as he was being touched. They resonated in the room and in Samuel’s mind. Without stopping to fondle the sexiest player on the team, Samuel noticed his own excitement growing, his breathing becoming heavy. Jamal seemed increasingly affected by the physical contact. His moans grew louder and more intense until he finally let out a long shout and came, his body trembling with pleasure. Samuel stopped abruptly. Embarrassed and blushing, Jamal quickly got up, muttered a thank you while dressing hastily, and left the office.

Samuel remained in the room, contemplating what had happened. His mind revolved around one question: Was Jamal gay? And if he was, were there other players like him on the team? He was confident that, in time, he would discover the answer.

Part three

Christmas arrived and most of the team left campus. Axel and Jamal stayed. Axel, because he was an orphan, and Jamal, because his family had decided to take a trip and visit him.

One afternoon in late December, the coach took the opportunity to catch up on paperwork. He was in his office, with the door closed, when he heard noise coming from the locker room. He recognized the voices of Axel and Jamal. Intrigued, he turned off the light and cracked the door open just enough to remain unseen. From his position, he could see them. They had entered the shower. Axel was lathering himself up with slow, deliberate movements. His round, prominent belly shook slightly with each motion. Jamal, next to him, was also covered in soap. His large, full buttocks swayed gently as he scrubbed. Samuel noticed that both of them were semi-erect.

Suddenly, Axel and Jamal started touching themselves while looking at each other. Axel rubbed his pink nipples with his thumbs, opening his mouth with pleasure. Then he lifted and dropped his belly, making it bounce up and down with its weight. Jamal, with a lascivious smile, grabbed his breasts with his palms and fondled them. Then he turned around and slapped one buttock with a hand. The sound echoed in the space. With the other hand, he began to masturbate, his hard, shiny cock in his grasp. He slapped again. Axel seized his own cock and started masturbating as well, eyes fixed on Jamal. They panted and laughed, enjoying the moment. Finally, Axel and Jamal climaxed and ejaculated. The streams of jizz were lost down the drain.

Samuel couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He stayed still, waiting to see what else they would do. The pair, still breathing heavily, got dressed while chatting casually.

"Dude, the coach is so hot," said Axel, adjusting his shirt over his belly.

"Totally," said Jamal, struggling to pull up his pants, his rounded buttocks protruding. "I would love to be as big as him."

Axel nodded. His eyes shone with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"Imagine what it must feel like to have that body. Strong, sexy, and with such an impressive belly. It would be awesome."

Jamal smiled, visibly excited by the idea.

"Yeah, man. Well, with what we've been eating lately, I think we're on the right track."

They laughed together, complicit in their fantasy.

"Do you feel like having some pizza?" Axel suggested.

"Perfect. We need to keep growing, right?" Jamal responded.

They put on their shoes and left the locker room, discussing how much pizza they were going to eat. Samuel, who had heard every word, formed an idea in his head.

The next day, he took his phone and sent a message to Axel and Jamal, inviting them to spend New Year’s Eve at his apartment. Both accepted immediately. Beaming with enthusiasm, Samuel went to the supermarket and bought an entire cart of food. He wanted to make sure the evening was memorable.

He spent hours cooking, filling his apartment with the delicious aromas of his preparations. When Axel and Jamal arrived, Samuel greeted them with a smile and offered them a beer.

"To help you relax a bit," he said, sensing they were somewhat intimidated.

They grabbed the beers and settled on the couch. The three of them chatted for a while, laughter and anecdotes flowing easily as the alcohol took effect. The atmosphere became more relaxed. Samuel found them incredibly attractive. Axel, with his blond beard and bulk, looked like a true Viking. Jamal, with his dark skin and curves, was like an irresistible chocolate treat.

"Well, guys. Let’s go to the table," Samuel announced when he thought it was time.

Axel and Jamal followed him. They sat down. The coach served the starter: a huge plate of pasta. On the side, he put another plate with bread and a generous slab of butter for each of them.

"I want you to eat it all," he ordered, taking a seat next to them.

They exchanged a knowing look and started eating obediently. The coach led by example, eating heartily as well. The pasta was delicious. The players ate quickly at first but soon began to slow down.

"Come on, you can’t leave anything," he insisted. "And spread all the butter on the bread."

After finishing the pasta and the rest, Samuel got up to serve the second course. The roast turkey arrived at the table surrounded by a bunch of golden, greasy potatoes. And he gave them more bread and more butter.

"Here you go," he said, inwardly enjoying their perplexed faces.

With each new bite, Axel and Jamal felt their stomachs filling up. After finishing the turkey and potatoes, they were all stuffed.

"Well, we’ll have dessert on the couch," Samuel announced.

"Dessert?" they protested.

They headed to the couch with difficulty, their bellies swollen and heavy after the feast. Samuel followed, carrying an enormous chocolate cake.

"Unbutton your pants and get comfortable," he told them.

They obeyed. Samuel watched as their bellies expanded once freed from the pressure of their clothes. The two young men felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness as Samuel placed the cake in front of them.

"Axel, I want you to take a piece of cake and give it to Jamal. Tell him how fat he's going to get."

Axel cut a large piece of cake. He held it out to Jamal and, in a provocative voice, said:

"Jamal, you're going to get so fat with this... Eat it."

Jamal, whose eyes gleamed with desire, opened his mouth and let Axel feed him the piece of cake. He chewed slowly, relishing both the food and Axel's words.

"Now you, Jamal," Samuel said. "Give Axel a piece and tell him how fat he's going to get."

Jamal cut a generous piece of cake and brought it to Axel. Looking at him, he said:

"Axel, you're going to get so fat today... Open up."

Axel took the piece of cake with a mix of lust and delight, savoring not only the dessert, but also Jamal's words.

"I'm going to step out to give you more privacy," Samuel said with a wink. "When I come back, I don't want to see a single crumb."

He put on his coat and exited the apartment, leaving them alone with the cake.

He walked around the campus, enjoying the fresh air and the tranquility of the night. His thoughts wandered to what Axel and Jamal might be doing in his absence. Fantasy sometimes turned him on more than reality. After an hour of walking, he returned to his apartment, eager to see the result.

When he opened the door, he found a scene that exceeded his expectations. Axel and Jamal were reclined on the couch, naked. Their bodies seemed even more bloated, with chocolate-stained mouths and bellies about to burst. What fascinated him the most was seeing jizz on their chests. They had fallen deeply asleep, exhausted from the excess of food and pleasure.

Final part

The season was coming to an end and the university football team, under Samuel's supervision, had undergone a radical transformation. All the players had gained weight dramatically, ranging between 270 and 330 pounds. For Samuel, watching them on the field was an endless source of pride. Their bodies had become imposing masses of muscle and fat.

Marco, with his now more robust build, dominated the center of the field. His jersey stretched over his belly, and his butt, tightly packed into his uniform pants, seemed almost to overflow. Every time he ran, Samuel could see how his fat oscillated with the movement and how his thighs rubbed together.

Axel, whose transformation was perhaps the most noticeable, played with renewed ferocity. His wider and heavier body gave him an advantage in body-to-body clashes. His pecs, turned into true masses of flesh, shook with every impact. His enormous, round belly moved hypnotically under his jersey. Every time Axel hit the ground, Samuel beheld how the fat in his abdomen flattened and spread, showing the weight he had gained with Jamal's help.

Jamal, with the roundest and most prominent buttocks Samuel had ever seen, was a sight to behold on the field. His butt, miraculously covered by the tight uniform, moved like an independent mass from his body with each step. His thighs combined muscle and fat. When Jamal ran, Samuel couldn't help but stare at how his buttocks swayed from side to side, a true spectacle. Axel had also done a good job of feeding him.

As the players moved on the field, Samuel felt a surge of excitement. Although victory was important, for him, the true satisfaction lay in witnessing how they had transformed. Seeing those previously athletic young men become powerful masses of obesity under his tutelage was the culmination of his deepest fantasies. The team, which previously lost almost every game, now played with renewed strength and determination.

The final whistle blew and the team erupted in joy. Samuel joined them on the field, his heart pounding. He knew he had achieved something extraordinary.

The celebration after the victory was something else. The players, full of adrenaline and euphoria, headed straight to the locker room, where the showers awaited them. The atmosphere was electric, with shouts of happiness and laughter echoing off the walls.

Samuel stood at the entrance, watching as the players stripped off their sweat-soaked uniforms. Their heavy, robust bodies moved with contagious energy. Axel was the first to get completely naked, revealing his impressive figure, with his round belly and prominent pecs. He headed to the showers, closely followed by Jamal, whose buttocks swayed sensually with each step. Marco, with his hanging belly and voluminous butt, wasn't far behind.

The shower started with streams of hot water and uproar. The players pushed and splashed each other. Samuel, from a corner, watched them quietly. However, his serenity didn’t last long. Axel, with a mischievous smile, approached him.

"Come on, coach, it's time to join the celebration," Axel said.

And before Samuel could protest, Axel and Marco grabbed him by the arms.

"Hey, guys, what are you doing?" Samuel exclaimed as he tried to resist in vain.

The players, still laughing, began to undress the coach. Samuel let himself be carried away by them. First, they removed his shirt, revealing his impressive torso. His large pecs and round belly were exposed, prompting jokes among the players.

"Look at those muscles, coach!" Marco said, laughing.

Then, they took off his pants, lowered his boxers, and pushed him under the hot water.

Being completely naked, the coach found himself surrounded by his players in the shower. The hot water cascaded over their bodies, creating an atmosphere charged with arousal. Axel and Jamal took turns touching Samuel's belly, their hands sliding over his wet skin. Samuel felt completely liberated. The obese bodies of the players moved around him, bumping and rubbing against each other in a choreography of flesh and desire under the water.

#gay gainer #gaining weight on purpose #gaining kink #gaining fat #gainer stories #gainer fiction

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ninii-winchester · 5 months ago

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Revived

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.9k

Warnings : light angst, mentions of death, mentions of blood, violence, unedited (like always)

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

“Dean!!” Sam and Y/n yelled they watched Dean drop to the ground. This isn’t how it was supposed to be, it wasn’t how the hunt was supposed to go. It was witch hunt, they dug around and found out where the witch was, it should’ve been easy. Go in, kill her, and go back home.

It happened in a blink of an eye, the witch had been occupying a rather normal looking house, on the edge of the town, pretending to be a mourning widow. The three of them went up to the house in the middle of the day, acting like passer-by’s who needed help. She didn’t suspect a thing when they entered the house. Within minutes a fight broke in between the hunters and the witch when Sam confronted her. They had to admit she was strong. She had the three of them thrown around with just a flick of her hand, their guns clattering away from them. Y/n groaned standing up, punching her in the face. The witch retaliated with slamming her into the wall and keeping her bound with intangible force.

The brothers got up to their feet and lunged at the witch. She raised her other hand and slammed the older Winchester on the coffee table in the middle of the room. The younger Winchester eyed Dean’s gun laying inches away from him, he didn’t waste any time acquiring it and pointing it at the witch. Dean groaned standing up.

“Guns? Really?” The witch rolled her eyes.

“Witch killing bullets.” Sam smirked. The witch visibly tensed then she relaxed, a sinister smile took over her features.

“Go ahead, hunter.” She snarled. She grabbed the one closest to her, which was Dean. “But I won’t go alone.” She muttered “explosio” as Sam shot her, she fell to the ground immediately. Her little incantation created an explosion which caused Dean to move a short distance through the air and descend to the ground.

As soon as the witch was dead Y/n was removed from her bounds. Sam and Y/n rushed to Dean’s side, Y/n gasped at the amount of blood pooling beside his head. He didn’t seem to be breathing. Sam put his fingers on his brother’s pulse point, and hoped to feel a pulse but he found none.

“Dean.” Sam growled holding his brother’s face. “No, no Dean wake up.” He sniffled watching the color drain from his brother’s face.

“Dean, hey…” Y/n patted his cheek a little harshly, “wake up, this isn’t how it should end. I didn’t get to tell you I love you.” She sobbed pressing her hand to his cheek. “You’re not supposed to go like this.”

The two hunters sat there crying for who knows how long. Dean Winchester was not supposed to die like this. He deserved a happy ending, he deserved all the happiness in the world. Sam’s whole body shook as it dawned on him that his brother might actually be dead this time and he couldn’t do anything to protect. He failed him. He wiped his tears harshly as he stood up. Y/n knew the the look on his face.

“Samuel Winchester you stop right there.” Y/n’s voice boomed as she stood up to the tall man. She grabbed his jacket with force and made him look at her. “I’m not gonna let you do that.” She gritted her teeth.

“You don’t even-”

“I know you enough to know you’re going to make stupid fucking deal.” She snapped. “This is not happening.”

“So what you’d rather Dean stay dead?” Sam growled.

“No, but he wouldn’t want you to do that. He’d want me to stop you. We’ll call Rowena and we’ll do everything else we can to bring him back but no deals ya hear me?” She yelled glaring at the tall man. He knew she was right, Dean wouldn’t want him to do so. He begrudgingly agreed. They hauled Dean’s body into the backseat of the Impala and drove to the bunker. Y/n had called Rowena on their way to meet them there.

The ride back was filled with silence. They brought him inside and laid Dean on of the tables in the library. They didn’t have to wait long when the bunker door opened and the ginger witch descended the stairs.

“What happened?” She asked approaching the duo. She glanced at Dean’s dead body and grimaced. She’d never thought she’d see Dean Winchester this way. Sam filled her in on what went down and the witched nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” The woman rounded the table to inspect the scene. Y/n watched her every move, with utter caution. Before the witch could open her mouth Y/n winced loudly gaining their attention.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Sam questioned, averting his eyes from his brother’s form to her face.

“I think the wound on my back is bleeding.” She said trying to stand but wincing again. As much as he wanted to bring his brother back, he couldn’t let his friend be in pain.

“Hey hey, stay here and keep an eye on her, I’ll bring the first aid kit.” Sam said leaving the library.

“Of course, because trusting me would be too easy.” Rowena added sarcastically looking at Sam’s retreating figure.

“What is it?” Y/n snapped as soon as Sam was out of earshot.

“That wound has been bleeding for a while now eh?” Rowena smirked at Y/n, who rolled her eyes.

“Stop messing around. Tell me!” She snapped.

“Well deary, It wasn’t a hex, curse or spell that I could reverse. Dean here died of natural cause.” Rowena folded her hands together. “She blew him away and he hit his head hard.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means he’s gone. For good.” Y/n stood up and grabbed the witch by her neck. “I can’t do anything about it.” The witch gasped. The younger woman let her go.

“You can.” Y/n growled looking down at her. The ginger woman raised her brow, “Pretend. Tell Sam you’ll bring Dean back.” She commanded in a stern voice leaving no room for argument. Sam entered the room with the first aid kit and he eyed the two women, his gaze questioning. He helped Y/n with her wound.

“Your brother will be back.” Rowena told Sam, looking at Y/n. “I need a few ingredients.” He nodded getting up to go and get it for her but Y/n eyed Rowena, the woman quickly added, “Y/n has to go get them. I need your help here.”

“She’s hurt. I could..”

“I need your blood to set up the altar. We don’t have much time to waste.” Rowena lied quickly. Sam nodded and Y/n grabbed the keys and left the bunker. She bought the ‘ingredients required’ and drove to the nearest crossroads. She did the ritual to summon a crossroads demon and waited.

“Hello, darling!” She heard a voice behind here. She recognised the voice.

“Crowley.” She said turning around. “What’re you doing here?” She questioned.

“It’s not everyday Y/n Y/l/n summons a demon to make a deal.” He shrugged. “Had to come do it myself.” She nodded her head. “So what it that you’re desperate enough to make a deal?”

“Dean.” She whispered.

“What about squirrel?” He questioned stepping forward.

“He’s dead!” Crowley’s expression turned solemn at the information. “Witch hunt gone wrong. Rowena’s at the bunker but she said she can’t reverse it since it wasn’t a spell or curse.”

“Your soul for his?” He asked and she nodded at his words. “I don’t usually do this but I’ll give you fifteen years.”

“That’s generous of you but there’s always a catch with you! And I don’t want to owe anything to you.” She growled.

“I’d figure you’d say that. No catches. One time offer.”

“Seal the fucking deal, Crowley. And I’m not kissing you.” She snapped and the King of Hell rolled his eyes. “Bring him back once Rowena pulls the whole fake ritual thing.” He was not a fan of her behaviour but agreed nonetheless.

Y/n drove back to the Bunker and gave the things to Rowena. The witch did her thing, to make Sam believe that she was doing something. She said some words in Latin and they waited in anticipation, watching Dean’s body for any movement. Minutes passed and nothing happened.

“What the hell?” Sam yelled. “Why didn’t it work?” He glared at Rowena who looked at Y/n.

“I did everything right. It takes time for this to work.” She snapped back, grabbing her things.

“You can’t just leave!” Sam exclaimed.

“I did what you brought me here for. And I’m leaving.” She yelled trotting up the stairs.

“Hey come back.” Y/n yelled going behind her. She pulled out her phone as she stepped out of the bunker, calling Crowley.

“You had one job.” She snarled as soon as he answered.

“My apologies.” He sassed, “but your freaking bunker is warded against me. I didn’t fucking know when mother would be done.” He snapped.

“Do it, now.” She said hanging up and going back inside. “She left.” She announced feigning anger as she walked in the war room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Dean sitting up on the table.

“It worked.” Sam said happily. She felt relief rush through her veins seeing Dean alive, seeing Sam happy. She watched him hug his older brother, pulling away with relieved sigh.

“What worked?” Dean questioned groaning and cracking his neck.

“You died, we brought you back.” She replied walking towards him. Dean opened his mouth to argue but she hugged him tightly and he held her close. “Rowena helped.”

“No deals?” He asked pulling away.

“No deals.” She replied smiling brightly. “I think you should clean up, you reek of blood.” She chuckled rubbing her thumb over his cheek.

“True. We all need it.” Sam added leaving the room. Y/n also moved to leave but Dean grabbed her hand.

“I can’t believe I died before telling you, again.” Dean huffed.

“Tell me what?” She asked. He had enough, he went to hell, purgatory and now he died without telling her. He had to tell her now, even if did not feel the same.

“That I love you.” He replied swiftly. He eyed her warily, dreading her rejection.

“I can’t believe I let you die without telling you, again.” She replied softly. He raised his brow, she shuffled closer to him, standing between his legs, “that I love you too.” She added with a grin. He dropped his forehead against hers, gripping her waist tightly.

“Look at us, confessing and all it took us, me dying thrice.” Dean chuckled kissing her. “God I love you so much, sweetheart.” He mumbled against her lips.

“I love you too, Dean. More than anything.” More than my own life. She thought to herself.

She didn’t fear that she only had fifteen years left, hell she went to the crossroads thinking she wouldn’t even get ten considering demons hate them so much. As a hunter, everyday she woke up thinking this might be her last day so she didn’t care about it. She dreaded what would happen if Dean ever found out what she did. She really didn’t want to know. She shook her thoughts off, closing her eyes relishing in the feeling of his soft lips against hers, she would deal with the consequences later.

Part 2??

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twitterpated-passion · 9 months ago

Text

Change | Monster Boyfriend

You weren’t a fan of change. It was just something new to get used to, and you didn’t see the point of changing your schedule when it already was fine. But then you were broken up with, and a morning text turned into silence, a midweek date after work turned into eating at the diner alone, and every little thing that reminded you of him was either returned to him, or thrown in a box that was shoved deep into your closet.

You weren’t a fan of change. But you were forced to become one. Because if you didn’t, you’d still be stuck in the past, and you didn’t want to think about him anymore. Even if you two did still live in the same small town that the both of you grew up in.

🌩--🌩--🌩

Your hand came down on the alarm, shutting up the annoying beeping that was the only reason you bought the thing in the first place. Taking a breath, you rubbed your eyes, sat up and stretched, feeling your bones pop and crack as you moved the blanket, turned your legs off the bed, and stood up, albeit begrudgingly.

After a shower and getting dressed, you went into the small kitchen of your townhouse, making yourself a bowl of oatmeal to at least eat something before you went into work. You got used to leaving your phone by your bedside table, preferring not to use it in the morning anymore, since in the beginning you’d wait like a dog does its master for that simple ‘good morning’ text. You shook your head free from the thought before you went down that rabbit hole, eating your somewhat bland breakfast, washing up the dishes and setting them aside to dry.

You slipped a pair of shoes on, and then grabbed your bag, going back to your room to grab your phone. Shoving it into your pocket, you made your way out the door and into your car, even though it was only ten minutes away if you walked. Still, you drove to your place of work, a quaint little pop and pop florist shop, owned by an older couple who used to babysit you when you were a kid.

You walked in, hearing the bell and going into the back to clock in, then going out to flip the sign to show that the shop was open and you found your seat behind the counter. Hearing steps behind you, you glanced back, smiling when you saw Laurie and Samuel. You saw the Dwarf and Elf smile back at you, and you leaned against the counter when you turned the stool to look at them. “You two are down here early, what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” Laurie was quick to dismiss, but the glance down to his husband was more than enough to tell you that it wasn’t just nothing.

“You’re still a bad liar, Laurie,” you said. “You two gonna tell me the truth or what?”

Laurie grimaced, but much to his visible relief, Samuel started speaking, voice gruff, like he just woke up, which he probably did, the Dwarf was never an early riser. “We thought you’d do better in tha’ back today, hm?”

“And…why’s that?” You asked, brows knitting together. You never went in the back, ever. It was always something Samuel took over because he liked the gardening aspect, while Laurie was the star seller out of the three of you. “Did I do something?”

They shook their heads quickly and Laurie took back over. “No…just…you know how this town is, people talk.”

“Right, we live in a small town, what’s going on?” The Elf took a breath, biting his lip.

“We know how hard you took the breakup, and we didn’t want you to be upfront if Callum comes in today,” he said after a moment. You tensed, but managed to ask one thing before your mind went blank.

“Why would he even come in here? He’s like the last guy that would come in here…” Trailing off, your heart clenched, but you weren’t going to show what you were thinking, not if it had the chance that you were wrong.

The two, however, noticed, reading the way your hands clenched your knees and how your shoulders got stiff. “...It’s going around that he’s going on a date with a new hire at the garage.”

You tried not to react, you really, truly did, but no matter how soft Laurie’s tone was, you still bit back the urge to tear up, your fists clenching against your legs. It had only been three months since the break up, and while you knew that he was allowed to move on, start dating again, you couldn’t help the way that the thought of him dating someone else made you feel. It was only natural, the two of you were dating for almost five years, starting right after the two of you graduated high school, and he moved on after three months.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt their hands on your legs, and you shook your head, forcing yourself to act normally. “I’ll be fine,” you started, a bit weakly, “we’re not together, he can do what he wants.”

Managing a smile, you breathe out a huff, and turn back to the front door of the shop, knowing that if you looked at them and their sympathetic expression, you would’ve broken down.

You could handle it. You were going to have to.

🌩--🌩--🌩

The shop never got many customers during a work day, most of the customers coming right after they get off for a date night, an apology bouquet or just something for their partner. Your foot was tapping against the stool the entire time you were sitting, and you could help but pace around whenever you had to get up. You hated the fact that the thought of him coming in made you this nervous, but you had good reason to when the bell rang, and Laurie failed to greet the heavy steps.

You didn’t look at him for a while, keeping your back facing him as he talked quietly to Laurie, getting a bundle of roses and carnations, pink and red. Your hands trembled, and you turned in the stool to price the bouquet, never meeting his gaze when he placed the flowers down beside the old monitor you and the other two used to check people out.

“Hi,” Callum said after a couple seconds of tense silence, his low voice more familiar than anyone else’s in your life. You looked up at the Minotaur, your eyes meeting his brown gaze, the fur on his face still slightly dirty, and his hands stained from his work at the garage.

“Thirteen-fifty is your total,” you said in response, almost bitter in your lack of wanting to make small talk with him. It pained you to be cold to him, but he didn’t say anything else to you, simply handing you his card and letting you read it in the machine, handing it back to him with a receipt seconds after. You let Laurie give him the ‘have a nice day’ shtick, walking back to ‘help’ out Samuel, even though the work day was over in an hour and a half.

You heard the bell to the door right as you walked back, and your back hit the wall, getting Samuel’s attention right as tears welled in your waterline, your bottom lip trembled and you sniffled, shutting your eyes tightly to stop yourself from crying. But despite your efforts, the tears ran down your cheeks, and soon you had both men trying to comfort you, holding you in both of their arms to offer any form of solace.

They closed the shop early, something you tried to argue with, but you learned quickly that you couldn’t really speak while crying, so it didn’t work other than making you seem like a mess, which you admittedly were. And when the sign was flipped and the door was locked, the blinds sitting over the windows, they all but dragged you up to the apartment above the shop, the home you practically grew up in with the amount of times that they babysat you. It was to keep you from being upset and alone at your own place, you knew that, they sure as hell knew that. You didn’t blame them though.

Laurie made dinner for the three of you and Samuel settled beside you, rough hand holding onto yours as he let you flick through movie after movie until you settled on one you considered one of your favorites.

As the movie played and the three of you were gouging on carbs, you sat off to the side, letting the couple sit beside each other, even though at first they were hesitant to not have you in the middle. You were better tucked into the arm of their small couch though, it let you think and drown out the movie you’ve seen more times than you can count.

Seeing Callum earlier both made your heart race and stabbed it with a knife at the same time. He wasn’t there for you, like he was times before, and if you knew why the breakup happened…if he would’ve given you at least some closure, you would’ve been fine- happy for him even. But it was only three months since it happened, and you still had no idea what happened to cause him to want to break up with you. It was like a switch flipped and suddenly you were single.

You closed your eyes once you were done eating, setting your empty plate aside and dragging a hand down your face to get you out of your thoughts. You were just going to have to accept it. That was the only thing you were able to do at that point.

🌩--🌩--🌩

It was four months since the breakup, and three weeks since Callum came in last. He hadn’t been in since, which didn’t exactly mean much, since he never really did flowers unless it was a birthday or anniversary, and even then he focused more on interests than just flowers. But you hadn’t heard anything else about his date with the new hire in his garage. You had practically bullied Laurie and Samuel into telling you anything, and it came up to nothing, so you chalked it up to nothing being shared, or nothing happening between the two.

You felt weird, being so into your ex’s personal life, but if anything, he invited you into it by going to the shop he knew you worked at to buy flowers for them. No- that just felt petty.

The shop’s bell ringing snapped you out of your thoughts, petty and otherwise, and you looked up, parting your lips to speak, before you snapped your mouth shut when you saw that it was the Minotaur you were just thinking about. You looked down at papers, acting like you haven’t seen him and silently wishing Laurie was still out here instead of in the back with Samuel. It meant you actually had to talk to him.

You glanced up when you heard him say your name, and after breathing out a sigh, you got up from the stool, walking over to the flowers. “Roses and carnations?”

“No, actually. I’m not here for flowers…” There he was. There was the Callum you knew. “The shop closes in an hour, yea?”

You nodded. “Like it normally does.”

He paused for a moment, and nodded, walking up to you and reaching out to brush his fingers against your arm. “Do you wanna go to Izzie’s after you’re off? Our usual table? I need to talk to you.”

It sounded serious, and you didn’t miss the way his soft voice made your heart flip. “...About?”

“...I really just want to tell you then…so…please?” He was begging now. He was actually begging. You closed your eyes for a few seconds and you nodded, looking up at him when you opened your eyes.

“Fine…fine, I’ll go,” you said. Your expression softened when you saw his deep brown eyes light up, the evening glow coming in through the windows making the color look like it had golden flakes mixed with the brown.

“Great- perfect, thank you. It’s my treat, so don’t worry about whatever you get.” Your brow twitched and furrowed, but you nodded again, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“You don’t have to-”

“Don’t,” he said, lifting a hand. “Just- just let me treat you, ok?”

“Ok,” you breathe out, watching him with a sigh.

The last hour went by slowly, feeling like it was an entire day, and the moment the clock hit seven, you raced out with barely a ‘see ya’ to Laurie and Samuel. With your bag gripped tightly in your hand, you unlocked your car and threw it into your passenger seat, getting into the driver’s seat afterwards. You pulled out onto the road and began driving across town to Izzie’s.

When you pulled in, you managed to pull in beside his van, the nostalgia and familiarity of the late nights in it sending you whirling, but you got out of your car, locked it up and headed straight into the front doors. You were sure you looked desperate, wanting something akin to how you were back when you were with Callum, and you knew you should be trying to move on…trying to get over him, but gods, did you not want to do anything resembling moving on when he asked you to the spot you guys had weekly date nights at.

And when you saw him, your heart started racing, seeing that he was sitting in the booth the two of you used to sit in every wednesday. You forced yourself to slow yourself to a walking pace, making your way over to him before slipping into the booth, sitting across from him as if you didn’t care for any of this.

He smiled when he saw you, and pushed his menu over to you. “Pick what you want. Even if it’s your usual.”

“You know you don’t have to pay for me,” you said after taking a quick glance at the menu. You knew what you were getting, it was all you ever got when you came here. Nothing could go wrong with a vanilla shake and loaded fries in your mind.

“Yea, but I want to,” he responded, waving the thought of him not doing it away. “I invited you out, I’ll pay.”

You let out a breath, but nodded and set the menu down, pushing it away. Your leg bounced, not stopping until a large hand touched your knee and your eyes met his. “Why’re you nervous, Moonlight?”

You could barely process the pet name, tensing under his touch and staring at him with furrowed brows. “...We’re exes…why wouldn’t I be nervous that you wanted to talk?”

Something flashed in his eyes, something that you thought looked akin to hurt the way his lips pursed a little, and he moved back, moving the long hair from his eyes, then on the normal chain he wore on his horns after he got off of work. “Do you want to start talking now or after we get food?” “Now, please…” you said. He nodded and moved his hand from your knee, then held his hand out, palm up. He left his hand there, even after you didn’t take it, keeping the offer there.

“Right…right…” Callum breathed out, his bullnose ring glinting in the light. “I regret breaking up with you…”

You tensed again, your thoughts spinning around you, and it felt like the world around you went silent. He…he regretted it? “...You regret it?”

“Yea,” he started. “...If…if it’s alright with you…I’d…I’d like to try again…maybe?”

Your lips parted and you gave him a look that just screamed confusion, mixed a hint of disbelief. “You want to…try again? After breaking up with me out of nowhere and going out on a date with someone else?”

He flinched at the questions and gave you an apologetic look, trying to grab your hand. “...Let me explain…-”

You smacked his hand away and stood up, holding your hands up in mock surrender. “Let you explain what? Why you want me back, or why you broke up with me?”

He glanced around and tried to usher you back in the booth. “Moonlight, please sit down,” he said softly.

“Or what?” He took a pause, sighing and standing, grabbing your arm before you could pull it away and guiding the both of you outside and to your cars, lifting his hands when you settled against your passenger’s side door.

“Please, don’t fight with me,” Callum said after a moment. “Let me explain…whether you accept it or not is up to you, but please just hear me out.”

You took awhile to answer, and you didn’t even do it verbally, offering him a single nod and a hand wave. He sighed again. “I know saying that I want to try again after going on a date with someone else is…not the best thing to hear…and I promise it’s not because the date didn’t go well. I genuinely regret breaking up with you and I’m such an idiot for doing it.”

“Then why did you do it?” You asked, not trying to fight, or to respond sounding like an ass, just…wanting to know.

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” he responded.

“What? Why would I hate you?” Callum slowly reached his hand out, waiting for you to grab it and his expression softened when you did.

“We got together out of high school…we were our first actual relationship and…I didn’t want you to start resenting me for holding you back in the future…and I…I knew it wouldn’t happen, but the possibility of me feeling the same made me want to die…I just thought we’d be better if we explored…” He trailed off when he was done, waiting for a response from you, his nerves apparent.

It took you another long, drawn out moment before you finally replied to him. “And you regret doing it now?”

He nodded. “Yea…I was regretting it when I did it…but I thought it’d get better, that if I just held out you’d be happier. And I went on the date…I can’t say I hated it, because they were nice, but I was thinking of you the entire time, how you’d react if I took you there…what you’d wear, which place we’d go to after, what movie we’d inevitably fall asleep to…”

Your heart was pounding again, a slow but loud sound hammering away at your ribs. But he spoke before you could. “I still…- you’re the person I think of when I wake up, and you’re the person I think of when I go to bed and I hate that I ruined us when I still constantly think about how much I love you.”

“Callum…” you said softly, squeezing back when he squeezed your hand. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“...I don’t know…I thought you’d think I was ridiculous or something…”

“So you went straight to break up with me?” You pushed up from your car, taking a step towards the Minotaur. “You should’ve talked to me.”

“I know I should’ve. And I regret that I didn’t, but I don’t want what we had to end…will you at least think about giving me a second chance?”

You didn’t have to think when you nodded, grabbing his other hand and squeezing them both. “...I’ll think about it. But you have to earn that, alright?”

He managed a smile, nodding back at you firmly. “I’ll make you weak in the knees faster than you can blink.”

And to tease him, you blinked, grinning when he laughed.

🌩--🌩--🌩

It was exactly four months later, but you were three ‘second chance’ dates in with Callum, finally folding after he consistently made an effort, constantly threatening being late to his shift at the garage to drop off a coffee, tea or pastry at the shop, and to occasionally earn a kiss on the cheek after he kissed yours. Laurie and Samuel were practically sick at seeing the two of you, despite the amount of PDA the couple were giving each other at every possible opportunity.

At that very moment though, you were relaxing on the worn couch in Callum’s home garage, watching him work on his van and all in all, enjoying your day off.

“You’re awfully quiet, Moonlight,” Callum said, wiping his hands off with an old rag. “What’s on your pretty, little mind?”

Your cheeks warmed, but you rolled your eyes. “Just admiring, Sunshine.”

“Yea? You still into something you’ve seen for five years?” He asked, teasing tone blatant.

“Obviously,” you chuckled. “I’ll still like this fifty years from now.”

He hummed and walked over to you, lifting your legs to settle beside you, resting your legs over his. “You really think so?”

“I know so, Callum.”

You didn’t like change, but you could get used to this…instead of sticking to how it was before.

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k-dokja · 10 months ago

Text

Bringing this dysfunctional pairing back even if no one asked (I asked)

“You’re mad at me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but take the drink he offered anyway because you don’t want to go through this conversation sober. “Gosh, isn’t the sky also blue?”

“We came down to the same side anyway,” Samuel shrugs, taking a sip of his whiskey, “you shouldn’t have more reasons to be upset.”

That audacity of his, you can’t even believe your ears. “I’m upset because you acted without telling me,” you jab at him with your elbow, he doesn’t bother to dodge. Noticing that, you can only roll your eyes and gaze back down at the view of the city below. It once gives you immeasurable comfort to see how insignificant everything will be in the grand scheme of things. However, here, with Samuel by your side, nothing but unease permeates your senses.

“You wouldn’t have gotten into that mess with the first affiliate if you bothered to tell me a word about it,” you frown, knocking back the drink in one go. The taste is bitter on your tongue and you can’t help but wondering how he drinks this all the time, but it is nowhere near your priority at that moment. “Playing double agent is one thing, but triple agent? You were spread thin even before you shook hand with Big Deal’s leader, what make you think you can succeed without my help?”

Samuel keeps his face impassive but you can see the twitch of annoyance at the corner of his mouth. “I was overconfident,” he says, “I thought I didn’t need you.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” you hiss before turning on your heels, “but that doesn’t matter anymore, what’s done is done, I will stay cooperative since we have the same goal but don’t expect any personal favor from me again.”

Samuel doesn’t answer, and you don’t need him to do that. Not from the way his shoulder tenses. You had thought you got him figured out, you had thought that the bond between the two of you was at least friendship.

But, like him, you thought wrong. And now you’re paying the price for it.

Fool be you for thinking that this would’ve ended any other way.

#samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

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magicalqueennightmare · 2 months ago

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Trust Me (Pt 3/4)

Rick Flag X Reader

Post Corto Maltese AU

You're getting used to the idea of life in Corto Maltese and starting to think you've found a new normal when Sol and Harley pull the rug out from under you.

You were crammed into the jeep between Cleo and one of Sol's men you recognized from the final fight that day against the soldiers of the old regime of Corto Maltese. His name was Samuel if you remembered correctly. You cut your eyes at him and he offered you a small smile "I'd like to thank you" your brows furrowed in confusion "For what exactly?" he laughed lightly "You pulled me out the path of a bullet and took down two men in the blink of an eye that day. Ma'am you were a force of nature..all of you were. It's an honor to escort you and to welcome you back here"

You couldn't help the shocked laugh that fell from your lips. No one had ever spoken to any of you like that. The task force wasn't exactly ever regarded as heroes..well except for Rick. He was. Was. There was that word again. You found yourself falling into that hole inside of you anytime you realized you had to speak of him in past tense. You realized Samuel was still looking at you so you forced a small smile that you hoped looked genuine onto your face "Thank you but it's an honor to us to be welcomed back into your country. I hope we can help with some of the rebuild efforts and find a place here" he nodded then turned his attention to someone speaking across the radio.

What the hell were you thinking coming here? You weren't a hero. Hell Harley was more of a hero than you and that was saying something. You'd simply fought the way you had that day because the pain inside of you needed an outlet and fate had decided to place quite a few targets into your path. If anything these people should be horrified of being around you.

You closed your eyes as memories of Dubois' face when he'd seen what you'd done to peacemaker flashed through your head. You could feel the blood cooling on your face and hands. Your shirt was stuck to your chest from the amount of blood that had seeped into it and very little of it was yours. It was a mixture of Rick's and Waller's puppet that took him from you. A small part of you had registered that truly that peacemaker was simply only that, a puppet. Unfortunately for him that part wasn't very loud considering the man you loved laid dead a few feet away from you. You'd never even reached for your gun, no Rick had done enough damage to him in their fight you'd been able to take him down with the two knives you carried. When Robert had come looking for you he'd found you sitting with Rick's head in your lap, staring blankly at the bloody remants of what once was peacemaker.

Cleo's hand slipping into yours pulled you back into the present as she gave yours a small squeeze. You gently squeezed hers back and whispered "I'm ok. Just tired from the plane" she nodded "We can rest before exploring with Sol if you need to" You shook your head "I'll get some coffee and food down me and I'll be fine, promise"

She nodded slowly after a moment but you saw Sebastian crawl from her lap into yours so you absentmindely ran your fingers down his back. He was more of a comfort than anything. Maybe Cleo and him could find a rat like him to train? You huffed out a tiny laugh at the thought of an emotional support rat. God, you could imagine Rick's face. He'd probably would've offered to get it a tiny little vest, maybe even a little american flag cap to match his. Probably say something along the lines of "I'm fine with it darlin as long as it doesn't try to get between us when I wanna love on ya"

Your heart ached thinking about him but you knew you had to keep putting one step in front of the other. Dubois and Harley were right about that. You'd had a few dark days. Dubois was a little rougher with his approach and had said "Fuck that. You think I'm gonna let ya roll over and die? Get up" Harley on the other hand had simply said "Come on dollface be the woman he fell in love with. A little crazy, a little angry and very much chaotic" so here you were in the very place you'd faced the worse trauma of your life which was saying so very much because you had to keep moving, not for yourself or even for your little team that had become more like a family to you but for Rick. He'd want you to still be you no matter how much it hurt.

You followed Harley through the house Sol had directed all of you to. It was a four bedroom and had a pool. Perfect for all of you. It was older and needed a little work but nothing you all couldn't handle and Nanaue almost lost his mind seeing the pool. After some debate Dubois annouced you were getting the master bedroom that was on one side of the house by itself. You weren't sure why but when you felt the mattress of the bed you didn't argue, the damn thing felt like laying on a cloud.

---------------

After settling your few belongings she took all of you to her new base of operations. There was houses being rebuilt, the schools, stores and the hospital needed volunteers.Sol stood at the front of the room looking over all of you "We could any of you wherever you're most comfortable. You all have strengths in areas we need"

It was decided Nanaue was going with Dubois to help the construction on a few places while Cleo and Sebastian was going to the school to assist and that left you and Harley with a decision to be made.She gave you a wide grin "Come on babe, you know we can help at the hospital" you scrunched up your face "I dunno Harls. Maybe I should go with Dubois. Nanaue doesn't like listening at times and if he gets hungry and doesn't tell anyone.." she cut you off by grabbing your arm "Nope. You're good with kids, old people, sick people and can bandage people up in a pinch and triage. We're going!"

You knew better than to try arguing once her mind was made so you accepted your fate "Can I get some coffee first?" She giggled when she realized she'd won "I'll even get ya a nice breakfast sandwich to go with it!"

Years in the special forces, numerous missions and many times he walked away when he shouldn't have. So many things that should strink fear in the heart of Rick Flag Jr but the thing he was currently terrified of was seeing the betrayal in your eyes when you realized he was alive and you hadn't known.

"Rick. If you don't take a breath, you're gonna hyperventilate" Marcel spoke, reminding him he was in physical therapy. He was getting evaluated again but he knew you were in Corto Maltese. Sol had come by that morning before going to meet your plane. He nodded but before he could turn his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing the door to the physical therapy room swung open and none other than Robert Dubois walked in. "The dead lives!"

A smile split Rick's face seeing his own friend as he met him halfway across the floor. The two embraced before Dubois pulled back to give him a once over "Looking good for a dead man" Rick shrugged "Been busting my ass man" Robert nodded "I know you have your reasons so I'm not getting into it now but you shouldn't have waited this long to tell her" "Dubois man.." Robert cut him off by raising his hand "I'm not here to bust your balls Flag. She's just a good gal and loves you with every thing she has. I've been there for it. She's gone through hell so no matter what she says, give her time"

Rick's stomach knotted at Robert's words. He didn't like knowing he'd put you through any hell, intentional or not. "Where is she?" he asked in nearly a whisper. "Harley and Sol took her to breakfast" Rick nodded slowly so Robert patted his shoulder "I've gotta go. I left Nanaue at the fountains. I'll see you later, eh?" "Yeah"

Rick watched Dubois leave in a fog. Would you hate him for hiding from you? No. He truly believed there wasn't much he could do to make you hate him but would you still love him like you did before?

After a stop in the children's ward that left your hair rebraided and Harley dubbed the best clown ever you followed her and Sol through the hospital playing with the pink leather bracelet one of the older girls had tied around your right wrist. If those kids could be strong, you could.

"Where are we headed?" you asked as Sol opened the door leading to the stairwell "I need to speak to my cousin Marcel. He's the resident Physical therapist" You nodded absentmindedly. "After that I think we should go to the schoo considering how much the kids here liked Harley" at the mention of her name Harley glanced over her shoulder with a wink "Everyone loves me babe. Ya know you do" "Ya know it"

---------------

You stopped out the PT room and started to lean against the wall but Sol shook her head "C'mon. He wants to meet you two" you forced a smile. "Ok" you pushed off the wall and Harley slipped her arm through yours "Its all gonna be just fine honey" "What do you mean Harley?" You asked and she just grinned in return. You looked to Sol who simply nodded and slipped into the door of the PT room.

You felt like they were hiding something but you trusted both women with your literal life so you let Harley lead you into the room. "Sol, where's your cou..." you stopped mid sentence. Your entire body froze, every nerve ending was dipped in ice water and fire simultaneously. You were stuck to the spot yet your body screamed to run. Fight or flight went into overdrive. Your mind collasped into itself and you barely breathed out one name "Rick?" before you felt darkness wash over you as you fainted.

---------------

Fuck any pain he felt Rick was across the floor and catching you before Harley could turn. A grunt of pain left him as he lowered both of you to the floor, pulling your head against his chest in a recovery postion as Sol ran to grab water and Harley slipped her jacket off to put under your head. Marcel watched everything go down and when Sol cut her eyes at him he shrugged "Now that was some hustle. I see how the hell he's recovered this much this fast. I wish every patient had someone they loved like that"

Sol rolled her eyes then kneeled down next to Rick, gently touching your face as she called your name. When you began to stir it was only then that Rick realized he'd been holding his breath since you'd went down. The first gulp of air he allowed in burned as it went down. "Darlin?" he called gently and when your eyes opened he would've been prepared for damn near any reaction except for the horror that filled your eyes as you scrambled backwards off of him, leg kicking over the water Sol had gotten you in the process as you tried to get away from him "no no no"

----------------

It looked like Rick, it felt like Rick. Fuck, it smelled like Rick but it couldn't be. This had to be a trick. Rick died in your arms. You scambled backwards until your back hit the wall and you felt your stomach lurch as your breakfast fought its way up. You barely made it to the nearby trashcan before it did. You didn't realized you were sobbing as well until Harley touched your back "Dollface" you tensed under her touch "What the fuck is this Harls?"

"It's Flag, I promise" "He died in my arms Harley. His heart stopped bleeding. Peacemaker killed him" sobs wracked your body with every word you spoke until Harley's hands fell away replaced by a touch you thought you'd only ever feel again in your dreams "Dr Vasquez said he nearly did. My body went into a coma state to protect itselt from the trauma"

You couldn't bring yourself to turn and face him, even as he pulled you back against his chest. Even after Sol ushered everyone else out of the room. "So you're telling me I left you there?" you sobbed, body shuddering with the realization. His warm breath hit your ear when he spoke again "Don't do that sweetheart. Don't you dare do that. You thought I was dead. You had every reason to think I was"

You closed your eyes at the familiar rumble of his chest against your back despite the little grunts of pain you could hear him trying to hide under his breath "Why didn't anyone tell me?" You slowly turned to face him and when you looked up into those hazel eyes the sobs that had slowed began to wrack your body all over again. Rick pulled you against his chest "I'm not the man I was darlin. I'm still healin. I was a lot worse, I didn't want you to have to handle that."

"Handle that? Rick, I've been losing my mind. I thought you were dead. Do you know what that did to me? What losing you felt like?" tears began to flow freely from his eyes as he pulled you tighter against his chest, a gasp of pain leaving him from the action "You hurt yourself from catching me" he kissed the top of your head "It was worth it"

You pulled back to look up at him and you really noticed the differences. The purple circles under his eyes, how the corners of his lips were drawn tight which was a tell that he was hurting and trying to hide it. Hell, his posture alone screamed he was in pain. You were hurting from not knowing, your heart breaking again for him not having faith in your love for him but you had to push that down to take care of him now. You noticed your fingers shaking as they traced his jaw.

"I wish you would've let me be here for the worse but I'm here now. We'll talk more later. Where have you been staying?" he grimaced slightly "Marcel's guest room" you nodded "I'm assuming you know Sol gave the team a house?" he nodded so you half smiled "I have the master bedroom which has a big kingsize bed which is heavenly soft. I am exhausted because I haven't slept more than an hour at a time since the night before..."

He placed a kiss on your forehead when you trailed off, his hands resting on your hips. "You wanna go get some sleep? Then maybe we can talk?" He gave you a weaker version of one of those smiles that had always made your knees weak "I'd love nothing more" you smiled "You need to get something for pain first" he laughed lightly as you leaned up to place a gently kiss on his cheek "Yes ma'am"

@princesssunderworld

#rick flag x you #rick flag x y/n #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag imagine #rick flag x reader #suicide squad fanfiction #dc fanfic

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 2 years ago

Text

Wasting time

When we pull into Venus port, I don’t head to the hauler bar, and the rest of the crew don’t ask me to. Where they turn left, I turn right, and head off among the locals. The buse I take is new; they have different restraints now. The driver, too, probably. But the route is the same as it was when I left Venus for the first time, seven years ago.

I see her before she sees me. Natalie is almost thirteen now, and oh wow, she’s getting tall. She leans on the school fence, talking to a friend; both girls wear their school uniform belts at an odd angle, but it’s the same off angle, so it must be the latest teen fashion or something. There is laughter in her eyes and the ugliest paint I’ve ever seen on her nails and crystals threaded in her hair and I’m almost surprised that I can even recognise her on sight. It has, after all, been a full year since I’ve seen her.

Then she catches sight of me, and her eyes light up with joy, and without even pausing to say goodbye to her friend she runs over and throws her arms around my neck (not a strain at all, she’s getting so tall). “Mum!” she shrieks in delight, and pulls back a bit, smiling. “You look the same.”

I nod. It’s not surprising. It has, after all, only been a month since she’s seen me.

“Let’s get to the restaurant. We’ll meet your dad there.”

“Are you going to stay for my birthday?”

She always asks, and the answer is always the same. “Of course I’ll be here for your birthday.”

The restaurant is the same one that we always go to – my favourite, mostly because it never seems to update the décor – and unlike Natalie, I almost don’t recognise Samuel. There are new lines in his face, new grey in his hair, and he’s stopped bothering to wear clothes I’d remember; only his position at our usual table, and the way Natalie rushes right over to him, tips me off that this man is my husband. I sit down, and I smile at him, and he smiles back and there’s so much love there, but also tiredness. So much tiredness.

“The usual?” he asks.

“You know what I like.”

We order, and Natalie orders something with Neptunian prunes in it. I frown. “You hate Neptunian prunes.”

She rolls her eyes. “I love them, Mum.”

“I could have sworn…”

“I think what your mother means,” Samuel cut in, “is that you used to hate them when you were younger.”

“Well, yeah; when I was a kid,” Natalie says, and pops a prune into her mouth.

Throughout dinner, Natalie tells me about the latest fashions and the latest music and the latest drama with her friends, and I drink it all in as best I can. I’m in port for a week, and then I’m off, and by the time I get back next month this will all be a year out of date, but I try to keep up. It’s all I’ll have. Hair diamonds are in but hair rubies are out, if all you’ve got is rubies then you’re best to go ‘barehead’ without any jewels, and Venus Fog is the latest upcoming band and Natalie thinks she’ll get into acting and also I should tell dad how great it would be to get pet rats. Eventually she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, leaving Samuel and I over the scraps of our meals. I push some vegetables around my plate, not meeting his eyes, while he watches me.

“You look the same,” he says.

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

“Next time I’ll get a tattoo or something.”

He tenses up at the phrase ‘next time’. I fall silent again.

After several long, awkward seconds, I ask, “How’s Valerie?”

“Fine,” he says. “Valerie’s doing fine.”

I bite my lip, not caring if I look jealous. I’m not; really, I’m not. It would be ridiculous for me to expect Sam to wait an entire year to see me, over and over, and not have someone else. He would never have even pursued Valerie if I hadn’t suggested it. It was a necessity of the situation.

And honestly, it’s not even just the long waits. Sam and I had been school sweethearts and gotten married when we were both nineteen. Now I’m twenty seven, and he’s… thirty five, I think? No amount of love in the world will change the fact that I am simply getting too young for him. And that’s the real problem with Valerie, I guess. She’s always been younger than him – two years younger. And me? Well.

“You’re staying for Natalie’s birthday, right?” he asks.

“Of course I’m here for Natalie’s birthday. I’m always here for Natalie’s birthday.”

“And not much else,” he mumbles under his breath, and I drop my fork and glare at him.

“What would you have me do, Sam? We have bills!”

“Everyone has bills. Everyone manages.”

“If we want to get Natalie into a tier one quarternary school – ”

“We both managed fine in a normal quarternary school.”

“ – then we need an income; a good income. Being an interstellar hauler makes me ten times the money I could make anywhere on Venus and you know it.”

“Ten times the money, for twelve times the time. You realise that, right? It comes out less on our end.”

“Do you need more? I can borrow from – ”

“No! This isn’t about needing more money; I work, Valerie works, it’s fine. It’s about your excuse for this job being oxshit! On our timeframe, you pull in less money this way, and you know it. You’re out there on the edge of lightspeed, for a year at a time, letting it do this to you, for – ”

“Do what to me? It isn’t doing anything to me; I’m fine. Just because I’m living slower than you doesn’t mean – ”

“It’s stealing time from you; time with your family! Do you see yourself? Hear yourself? To you, it’s a month-on, week-off job, but every time you go out to haul near lightspeed, it’s a year before we see you again.”

“I understand that. I – ”

“I don’t think you do! I don’t understand how you can – your daughter is turning thirteen! Half a year ago, she was six to you, right? In half a year for you, I raised a child into a budding teen. Six months more of this, and your daughter will be an adult. You realise that, right? In less than a year and a half, your time, your daughter will be older than you. And she’ll barely know you! She barely knows you now! This isn’t time you’ll get back, you know. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“I know,” I say. “I know, I just… one more haul, maybe two. Then we’ll have enough for Natalie’s education, and I can come back and with that nest egg I’ll have time to actually spend with her, an so will you, since neither of us will have to work long hours any more. Just a couple more months, and we can – ”

Samuel reaches out and wraps his large, soft, gentle hands around mine. “Love. If you get back on that hauler ship, then when you get back, there will be divorce papers waiting for you.”

Natalie comes back then, so I’m forced to bite back my reply, and I think I manage to hide my rage through dinner. Afterwards, I decide to walk back to my dorms in port rather than take the bus; maybe I can walk off some of the anger.

He doesn’t understand, he really doesn’t understand, how good the money is for so little time. He’d really rather I stay on Venus and work for over a decade to make what I could in a single year on the ship. And he’s right, to an extent, about missing time with Natalie, but wouldn’t I me missing almost as much time working long hours here? This way, I have a full week off to see her every month. And once I’ve made enough, I’ll have as much time as I want with her.

Divorce. Ha. I should’ve known he’d fall more in love with Valerie in my absence. This is just an excuse.

I get to the dorms, and keep walking. Walk all the way to the hauler bar. It’s full of lightspeed haulers and basically no one else but waitstaff; we haulers tend to keep to our own kind, on the whole. My crew are there, of course, as are a few other crews, all mixed up and chatting with each other, because when you’ve spent a month cooped up with the same people you don’t want to hang out with just them on your downtime, too. We all share friendly, familiar nods and looks, friends and strangers alike. Lightspeed haulers intrinsically understand each other. There are experiences we all share that people like Samuel just don’t get.

My captain presses a drink into my hands. “So your little girl’s party is in three days, and then you’re free, right?” he asks without preamble.

“Not so little any more. But yeah.”

“You don’t mind if we head out a day early, then?”

I look out the window, up through the environmental dome and toward the stars that are completely hidden by Venus’ thick atmosphere. Already, I can feel the thrum of the ship’s engines in my bones.

“I can be ready a day early,” I say. “I don’t mind at all.”

#guess I'm just writing time-themed stories for the moment

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finsterwalds · 9 months ago

Text

Got my hands on the script of Anatomy of a Fall, and I couldn't help but compare it with some scenes from the movie because that's how deep I am rn :'D Anyway, here are some of my finds and things I personally enjoyed. I'm sure there are more things to dig out but these are what I wanted to share with the world. The order of my finds will be chronological, for the most part, but keep in mind that sometimes, some scenes were edited to show up later, or earlier than originally intended. Spoilers for the whole movie obviously so you've been warned!

Takes place when Vincent first visits Sandra to discuss Samuel's death. In the movie, Sandra stops Vincent and cuts him harshly, saying "STOP, I did not kill him". Vincent then says a line that I think is pretty iconic in the movie, a sarcastic : "That's not the point. Really". His line is much harsher than on the script, where he's a bit softer. "You don't need to tell me that" implies that he has some deep, loyal faith in Sandra, while "That's not the point" cuts any further discussion. He really doesn't wanna know if she actually did it. Comes from a wish to remain blind still, but with less innocence and a lot of denial. Oh, Vincent.

In the movie, his last line is way better imo, he says "No one's gonna believe that. I don't believe that." I like the emphasis on his opinion rather than the fleeting and impersonal "it's really hard to believe". Truly hits way harder and puts Vincent back in the position of a lawyer.

The rest will be under the cut because I think it's gonna be a wall of text I apologize guys...... This movie does things to my brain.

There's a scene that was cut where Vincent phones Nour while still at Sandra's, which I would have enjoyed a lot but I'll admit it's a bit filler-y. Doesn't add a lot and kinda cuts the serious tone of Sandra's confession, imo, as they discuss the judge's antics in a pretty comical manner. I just love Nour so I'm based......

Another, REALLY long scene that was cut where a medium comes into Sandra's house to feel Samuel's ghost and foreshadows Daniel poisoning Snoop with aspirin. I had a good laugh at that one, honestly. It feels pretty out of place with the tone of the movie, and the personality of the characters even... I can't picture Sandra calling a medium. I'm glad they removed it because the foreshadowing was unnecessary too. It's still interesting that they had planned it however.

This takes place after Vincent finds out about the tape. Interestingly, his whole line was cut after "before he died". In the movie, he never comments on Sandra's affairs/sexuality. He never really asks much about her life at all. He truly is blinded by his wish to shield himself from her inner demons, in order to maintain his undying loyalty towards her. To see what he wants of her...

Another scene that was completely cut (a flashback, I believe?) where Sandra makes Daniel pose for a german photographer to make some money, which Monica dislikes, and then they argue. I think it really frames her as too unsympathetic, so I'm also glad it was cut.

Okay, so now, here comes The Big Change. The scene where Vincent and Sandra drink together after the first trial was heavily altered, because its tone in the movie is pretty tense when compared with the lightheartedness of the script. In the script, they laugh and reminisce together about the past and even kiss at the end of the scene. In the movie, none of was I screenshot happens : instead of playing along with the 'firing Vincent' suggestion, the scene ends with Sandra scolding Vincent for judging her in his head. Vincent backs off and the scene ends. Another instance of him not pressing emotional depth to shield himself.

There are other scenes I liked (many that touch upon Sandra's books) but I'll stop there. Hope you'll enjoy that... I might draw some of these so stay tuned... This movie has absorbed my soul but it feels good to be alive, thank you Justine Triet.

#anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #justine triet #vincent renzi #sandra voyter #not art #im posting it on my artblog because i wanna find this again and store everything about my lawyer era in one place #i didn't translate anything because that would take some time but hmu if you need a translation or if something's unclear #i didn't proofread this and my native language isn't english so picture a crazy frenchie going about their theories to you okay?#fits the movie imo

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durrtydawg · 1 year ago

Text

Fructose

(Sam Drake x F!Reader)🍓

Summary: A 'normal' life isn't all bad. Especially when it involves a picnic in a secluded part of a nature reserve, gorgeous natural lighting, and plenty of strawberries- they're an aphrodisiac, apparently.

Just a short, sweet (pun unintended), smutty one-shot that I wrote in two hours to procrastinate from anything and everything else I should be doing.

No, I haven't proof-read. Yes, I know you can tell.

Warnings: smut (albeit nothing crazy), 18+ please x

“Where is everyone? All the horrible... screaming kids and their long-suffering parents?”

“C’mon, you know I’m good at weaselling out private spots. You really think I’d put you through that? Or myself, for that matter?”

“Fair.”

“God, I love this weather.” You sigh whimsically, hopping out of the car, closing the door behind you as you bask in the warmth of the late-afternoon. Sam nods, pushing his sunglasses from his forehead down to his eyes. “Sunny, but not too hot. Light breeze-”

“Southwesterly winds, ten miles per hour— you know, I was unaware I was dating a weather girl.”

You raise your brows at his know-it-all grin. “Oh? You’ll also be dating a pro-boxer soon if you’re not careful.” With a smug smile, you make your way to the back of the car, holding the keys between your teeth, opening the trunk as Sam holds up his hands in defence with mouth curled into an amused grin.

“Think fast.” You catch his attention, talking through your teeth as you toss a rolled up blanket in his direction. Removing the keys from your mouth, you lock the car, muttering a ‘let’s go’, with a self-satisfied smile on your face.

Sam catches the blanket with ease, giving you a playful salute with his free hand. “Caught, boss. Lead the way.”

As you amble into the secluded meadow, a sense of tranquillity washes over you. The tall grass dances in the gentle breeze, the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the nearby trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground around you. You had picked this spot for a reason – to help Sam relax and enjoy the simple pleasure of doing absolutely nothing.

You dictate a spot, and he spreads out the chequered blanket, though unfortunately, that aforementioned sense of tranquillity hasn’t quite transferred to Sam. He can't seem to sit still; his leg bouncing slightly as he scans the surroundings. You frown at him, knowing his restless nature all too well. You decide to give him time, instead fishing into the bag to retrieve some of the things you’ve packed.

Once everything is laid out, you settle down on the ground, leaning back on your elbows and soaking in the natural beauty around you. Sam, however, still can't seem to sit still. He fidgets, shifting positions, and tapping his fingers against his knee.

You smirk at his restlessness. "Hey, remember the plan today," you say softly, a playful glint in your eye. "No checking your phone, no fidgeting, no damn smoking. Just us, the field, and a whole lot of relaxation."

You put emphasis on the last word, narrowing your eyes in an accusatory expression.

He looks at you as if you’ve said something ridiculous. “I- I am relaxed.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you get up onto your knees. “Nope. I’ve seen military lieutenants more relaxed than you, Samuel.” You say, hobbling behind him and bracing your hands on his shoulders. “You’re more tense than a damn bomb disposal unit. God, I thought you’d have wanted to actually chill out and enjoy spending some time with me before you ditch me in aid of another piece of old junk.” You say into his ear, digging your fingers into his trapezius as you infiltrate your speech with a lilt of teasing castigation.

“Old junk that pays the bills.” He sighs, turning his neck sideways as if to give you better access to the knots in his shoulders. Your thumb digs into a particularly tense spot, and you watch his nose crinkle as he winces at the ache.

“Loosen your shoulders.” You instruct, raising an authoritative brow towards him, which he sees in the corner of his vision. With a slight eye roll, he makes an effort to do as he’s told, slumping slightly into you as you continue to dig away at the knot. “Good boy.” You joke, feeling him grin in response as you peck his cheek.

As you feel the tension begin to give, a small hum of satisfaction slips out of Sam’s mouth, signalling the knot has dissipated enough for you to pull away. “We’ve got no agenda. Nothing to do. Nowhere to be.” You speak softly, crawling back around to the spot you were sitting in a moment ago. “You, sir, severely need to master the art of mitigating unnecessary stress.” You clasp your hands together before hovering over the selection of goodies you’d prepared. “Let’s start with something to eat.”

He sighs again, this time a genuine and slightly apologetic smile on his lips. He adjusts his sunglasses, before sitting up straight and showing interest in what’s in front of him.

“What’s on the menu, chef?”

You smile at the sight of him physically beginning to relax before you turn to the goods. “So— nothing exciting— a few veggies and some hummus, some of that focaccia I made the other day, a couple of cookies… oh…” You start, biting your lip in an attempt to restrain your excitement, “I stopped off at the farmer’s market on my way to work yesterday, and picked up some of those strawberries you were eyeing up last week.” You lean forwards to pick up the punnet. “Let me tell you, it took every ounce of willpower not to galvanise the lot on my way home. You’re a lucky guy.”

His shoulders jolt as he chuckles, his eyes lingering on you rather than the fruit. “I sure am.” You watch his eyes squint slightly, some sort of thought flashing through his mind. Sam's glance lowers he takes in the spread. “You really went all out, didn't you?"

You nod proudly, shifting until you’re beside him.

“I hope I’ve, uh, not forgotten some sort of… milestone or anything.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shake your head, a small chuckle leaving your lips. “Just wanted to take your mind off of things— to make sure you had no excuse to be restless today. And if that means forcing you into a food coma, so be it.”

Sam leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Well, I can think of one distraction I wouldn't mind."

You blush slightly, ignoring the familiar warmth spreading through, instead choosing to swat his arm. “Behave yourself."

He laughs at the sight of the warmth spreading over your cheeks, before reaching for a stick of cucumber. “You,” he taps it on the tip of your nose, “are too good to me.”

You laugh, wiping the residue off with the back of your hand as he takes a bite of the cucumber. “Yeah, don’t you forget it, toots.” You respond with a teasing smile, mimicking his accent to the best of your ability before removing the film from the pot of hummus and dipping your own cucumber slice into it.

After watching Sam scarf down at least seventy-five percent of the food without taking so much as a breath, you find yourselves lying side by side on the blanket, fingers interlaced as you gaze up at the sky. The gentle rustling of the grass and the distant hum of wildlife that surrounds you— give or take the odd mosquito you both fight over clapping to death— otherwise creates a peaceful cocoon for just the two of you.

Sam turns his head to look at your fingers as you absentmindedly trace circles over his forearm, a soft smile playing on his lips as you look at the small streaks of clouds dotted above you. “Hate to say it…but you were right.” You raise an eyebrow back at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I needed this. You. Me. A whole lotta’ nothing.”

Feeling a deep sense of contentment, and perhaps a little smugness, you lay your head on his shoulder, humming in agreement. “See? Normalcy. Not all bad.” You get up onto your elbow, twisting for the punnet of strawberries. “You’re so chilled out, in fact, that you forgot-” You pause, biting the tip off of a strawberry before holding it above Sam’s lips, “about these.”

He grins up at you, opening his mouth and biting the rest of the strawberry off of its stem, placing a kiss onto your fingers as he chews. You throw the stem into the grass, before taking one of your own and eating it, sitting up to take in the hues of pink and orange appearing in the horizon; the sun begins to dip beneath it, casting a warm, golden glow over the meadow.

It’s all so peaceful and insanely rare for the two of you to spend so long doing so little together, so you take a moment to embrace the nothingness; The sound of trees rustling in the gentle breeze, the crickets beginning to chirp in the distance, the sound of a camera shutter going off…

“No!” You grunt, turning to Sam as he holds his phone discreetly facing you.

“No, no, no, hold that pose.”

“What- what pose? No! Screw off!” You swat your hand in his direction, trying to grab his phone off of him as he presses the button again. You climb on top of him, snatching his phone out of his hand, straddling his torso as you feverishly swipe for the gallery in order to prevent the photos from ever seeing the light of day. “God, I look awful- don’t-” You squeak out in surprise as Sam uses his size to his advantage, grabbing you by the waist, and pushing you onto your back, making light work of pinning your arms above your head in order to reclaim his phone.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, wrestling his phone out of your hand and shoving it back into the pocket of his jeans as you writhe in protest. You attempt once more to pull your arms from his grip, rolling your eyes with a sigh once it proves futile. He looks down at you, chuckling at the heat rising through your face.

“My girl looks like a painting. I wanted a picture. And… I finally figured out how to focus stuff properly on that damn phone. Do not take that away from me.” He raises a brow as if to chastise you.

“But they were awful!” You whine. “All double chin and celluli-mph!” With a shake of his head, Sam unceremoniously shoves a strawberry into your mouth.

“Mmm. That’s better.” He smirks down at you as you frown and reluctantly begin to chew at the strawberry that’s slightly too big for your mouth. His thumb captures the juice that dribbles its way out of the corner of your lips, and your frown falters a little as he pushes it back into your mouth with a chuckle, effectively silencing you. Much to his amusement, your cheeks redden even more, as his hand gently squeezes them; his other hand effortlessly— irritatingly, rather— keeping your wrists above your head. “Wouldn’t want to pollute such gorgeous surroundings with your whining, now, would we?”

“You got leaves in my mouth.” You grumble through your squished cheeks, unable to hide the small smile growing on your lips as he finally lets go.

“Aww, sweetheart,” he goads with a teasing pout, gently nudging his nose against yours “Want me to get rid of ‘em for you?”

“Shut up.” You laugh, swallowing the remainder of the fruit as he pecks your lips.

He hovers above you, grin softening into a thoughtful smile as his eyes take in every sun kissed freckle on your face. “Thank you.” His hand pulls away from your wrists, removing his sunglasses before coming to rest softly on your jaw.

Your brows furrow.

“For what?”

He closes his eyes for a second, almost as if he doesn’t want to speak. He does, regardless, a slight flush on his face. “For giving me a soft place to land.” He’ll never be fully comfortable with this wishy-washy relationship stuff, but he’s making an effort, and you’ll forever appreciate that.

You smile up at him, your hands coming down to cup his cheeks. “I could turn that into a self-deprecating joke…” you start, but swiftly continue as Sam narrows his eyes at you, “…But I… sense this is the wrong moment for that.”

“Damn right it is.” He says, dipping down once more to kiss you. This time it lingers, eyes closing and thumbs stroking skin as he savours the strawberry-tinged sweetness of your lips.

His teeth pull gently at your lower lip, parting them just enough for his tongue to meet yours as he smirks into the kiss. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging lightly in order to keep the gap closed.

One hand kneads at your thigh, and it’s not until he begins to slide it up further that you break the kiss for a moment, holding him just shy of your face.

“We can’t.” You bashfully whisper, lips wet, cheeks hot.

“Why not?” He smirks.

You laugh, looking up at him as if he’s a total idiot. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see. There hasn’t been a sign of anyone for over an hour.” He retaliates, continuing to softly knead at your thigh. You bite your lip, eyes anxiously darting around as Sam takes in your expression. His hand shifts up further, magnetising your glare towards him.

“Hey, you say the word, and I’ll stop.” He shrugs above you, thumb stroking at your inner thigh. “But, personally, I don’t see the need.”

You swallow, lips parting to speak, but as his fingertips find the hem of your underwear, any potential words fail you.

“You know,” he speaks low, the whole mood taking a drastic shift, “I’ve also gotta thank you for wearing a dress for once.” He plants a kiss just under your ear, making you shiver. “Not only do you look so, so pretty,” You roll your eyes again as he speaks, biting your lip to dilute your coy smile as his fingers hook around the waistband, “but also, the easy access is really something I could get used to.”

“Christ, you’re awful.” You finally grumble, giving in completely, hurrying to pull him back down to you in a heated kiss as he rolls your underwear down your thighs.

“And you’re already soaked. So, clearly, I'm not that bad.” He says, barely paying your clit any attention as he gathers a little of your slick onto his fingers, before he slides them knuckle deep inside you, in turn, drawing a choked gasp from your throat.

“Jesus- Don’t… hold back or anything.” You say, voice breathless and sarcastic, instantly earning another smirk from Sam.

“I don’t intend to, doll.” He grins, coming back down for another kiss as he curls his fingers, coaxing perfectly against your g-spot. Your soft groan permeates the kiss, your hands drifting down to his belt buckle, making light work of it before you go for the button. “Someone did a quick one-eighty, didn’t they?” Sam chuckles as you reach inside his jeans, beginning to palm him over the remaining layer of fabric keeping him covered.

“Shush.” You murmur, pulling his cock out of his boxers, fully wrapping your fist around him.

“But it’s true.” He chuckles back, burying his face into the crook of your neck as you begin to jerk him off, inhaling the sun cream and perfume concoction that gorgeously complements your natural scent. It drives him insane.

“You give it all this ‘we can’t’ nonsense, but this is what you really want, isn’t it?” He swallows, chuckling to himself again as he places an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “You want to be fingered in the middle of a public field, where aaanyone could walk by and see me treat you like a filthy little whore, huh?”

His sudden shift in tone has you flush faster than ever, a gargled sound rising from your throat as your hairs stand on end and his thumb brushes against your clit. Your chest rises and falls much more rapidly as he turns more crass, and his cheeky demeanour becomes much more presiding. You’re riling him up just as much as he’s getting to you.

And you did a one-eighty? He’s one to talk.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He speaks into your ear, teeth gently pulling on your earlobe as your hand squeezes around him harder. He pulls himself up more as if to take the sight of you beneath him in; Sam’s teeth graze against his bottom lip as he sees your breath hitch, the sudden, needy tightening of your fingers in his hair, a silent but obvious plea to further the motions. And he gives you what you want, adding a third digit just to see you squirm. God, how pretty you look all stretched out around him. His smug grin teases you as he jokes about adding one more. About how greedy his girl is.

“C’mon, tell me what you want.” he spurs, cock twitching in your hand in response to your whines and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers.

“This.” You whimper, squeezing him hard for emphasis. “You.”

He could keep dragging this out, tease you a little more, make you beg, but, as much as he hates to admit it, he urgently wants you too. You look so sweet- so appetising- like one of those strawberries- and he has to satiate the need to feel that delicious stretch of your core around him.

So with a grunt, he scoops you up, fingers still working your cunt as he pulls you into his lap. Hand on the small of your back, he ruts the other even faster, drawing out more gasps and moans that you’re not even attempting to keep hushed any more. Dog walkers be damned. This is your fucking meadow.

You can’t help but curse loudly as his thumb assaults your clit, knees trembling either side of his thighs as he keeps you spread open. Your head falls onto his shoulder, hands bracing themselves on his upper arms as your composure is all but failing to remain in place, though before too long, he’s nudging your head upright with his own, wanting to see every facial expression he’s giving you.

“You wanna cum on my fingers or on my cock?” He breathes, missing the stimulation of your hand, secretly wishing for the latter. You’re biting your lip, feeling way too stimulated to form a sentence without making a fool of yourself, so you paw at his wrist- it's enough of a signal that his wish is about to be granted. He gives you a few more thrusts of his fingers before pulling out of you, and you tremble with want, hating the sudden emptiness.

The emptiness, of course, doesn’t last long. He jerks himself a few times, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before he pulls you forwards, lining himself up and letting you lower yourself onto him. He lets out a long-held breath, groaning a little as he stretches you out and feels you give around him, tight and warm. Your nails dig into his biceps as he bottoms out, your throat tightening as you take him to the hilt.

“Three fingers, and you’re still so damn tight, princess.” He teases, still giving you a moment to adjust. You let out a breathy giggle, feeling the warm evening breeze tickle your hot cheeks as Sam rummages beside the pair of you.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as his hand, half-coated in your arousal, brings another strawberry to your lips. You look into his eyes, and he gives you a small nod, watching with fascinated lust as he presses the berry to your parted lips. You open your mouth slightly, just enough for him to push it in, and he can’t help but lick his lips as he watches you take a bite, your tongue lapping up the juice from the strawberry, as well as his fingers, your gentle moans sending vibrations through his forearm as you do so.

"Such a pretty girl." Sam mutters, testing the waters with a gentle thrust upwards. Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps your mouth filled, and you continue to softly lap at and suck every part of the strawberry as he takes the lead again, bouncing you on his dick as you savour the sweetness of the fruit and the tang of your own juices.

You moan loudly as he speeds up, hitting deeper still as you arch your back a little, hips rocking to stimulate your aching clit.

Sam lets out a low chuckle as a dribble of watery-red flows down your chin, leaving a pink stain on the bust of your dress.

He takes the opportunity to grab you by the throat, almost violently pulling you into another kiss as he feels you swallow the strawberry. He groans at the taste of his favourite fruit and his favourite girl, tongue exploring every inch he can reach within your mouth as you grind yourself onto him rougher.

His other hand moves from the small of your back, unable to decide on where to land- a clear sign that he's fast-approaching his peak. He gropes and strokes wherever he can whilst his other hand keeps your mouth firmly against his own, and as you push your upper body harder against him, he pulls you down too, now straddled over him as he lays on his back.

Desperate to feel his skin, your arm snakes under his raglan shirt, absorbing the feeling of every hair, every scar, every bit of soft or firm you can reach, whilst your other reaches between the two of you, sandwiched between your bodies as you find your clit to bring yourself where you want to be even faster.

The two of you can barely fucking breathe, but you don't care. You could pass out-- die, right here, and never would you have felt better.

Sam loosens his grip on your throat, wet, pink-stained lips parting to let out a rare, and fucking beautiful whimper as his arms desperately embrace you, clamping you down on top of him as you rock your hips back and forth like your life depends on it.

When he fills you, you almost cry; the feeling of him twitching, spilling everything into you, and just knowing you're the one that's brought him to that ecstacy makes you feel more adoration for Sam than you could ever express with words.

And then you cum. Laying flat on top of him as a rush of heat floods you in your entirety, the spasming of your core making him hiss in overstimulation but equal adoration as his fingers dig into the clammy nape of your neck.

You finally still, bar the shared heavy breathing, making your bodies rise and fall in tandem.

Seconds pass. Minutes, even, and you're dangerously close to drifting off.

"Holy shit."

You laugh, spent.

"That's all you've got to say to your... what was it? Your 'little whore'?"

He rasps out a chuckle, too fucked out to even hide the fact that he's blushing profusely- something only you can make him do. Then a nod, continuing to stroke at the baby hairs that rest curled and matted on the back of your neck.

"Those strawberries?" He clears his throat, dismantling the rasp in his voice, "We're doing that again."

You lift your head, just enough to kiss the tip of his nose. "I'll have to remember not to wear white next time."

"Who said you've got to wear anything at all?" He says, shrugging.

You laugh into his chest as you feel him slide out of you, your hand still tracing shapes on his stomach underneath his shirt.

"You are… just…"

For a moment, there's nothing else. You raise your head again, looking up at him to gauge where the sentence is going, your thumb stroking the bridge of his nose that you love so much.

Another moment, and you know he's struggling to find his words, as he always does when he's trying to express his feelings. But the way he's looking at you tells you everything. So, you gently kiss him, non-verbally letting him know he doesn't need to speak. That you've got him.

And as he watches the golden hour sun bathe your skin, he's captivated by you. He really couldn't ask for any more.

#sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted #samuel drake smut #samuel drake x reader

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gorgeys · 1 year ago

Note

Do you still make fanfics? If you do please do Carla smut

PORNSTAR ★ carla roson

Carla Roson x fem!reader

Part 2 of So Naive

You still don't understand that you belong to Carla, she intends to prove it to you and Guzman...

Warnings: SMUT - top!Carla, bottom!reader, semi-public sex, dub-con, shoving, grabbing, hair-pulling, hickeys, biting, brat taming??, pet names, mentions of murder/mutilation, degradation/praise, choking, finger sucking, non-con pictures/filming, begging, fingering

Word Count: 4750

Note: i'm so sorry this took so long! i lost motivation for writing for a while but i'm temporarily back!

also i literally changed tenses in the middle of writing but i was too lazy to fix it and the ending is a little rushed bc i didn't want it to get any longer than it already was, hope you enjoy!!

Carla checks her phone as she enters Guzman’s house. She’s definitely late. Too late as she notices the last text from you was sent over an hour ago when you had arrived at the party. In one hour you could have been anywhere doing anything. She hates the thought of it.

The horiffic image of you and him had been replaying in her mind all day. His hands all over your body, his lips against your skin, the way you would sound for him. It was like a constant nightmare that she couldn’t put to bed. She was hoping you could help silence her thoughts.

She headed for the kitchen to pour herself a drink, craving a light buzz. She only downed half of it when she noticed Samuel approaching her.

She turned her back toward him, hoping he would get the hint, but he quickly tapped on her shoulder. Carla obnoxiously rolled her eyes before turning around to greet him.

It was more than obvious he had developed a hearty crush on her since Marina. He always ran his hands in his hair, trying to perfect it before he went to approach her. He’d be too smiley while talking to her, and he’d take a step too close which always resulted in Carla escaping the situation as quickly as possible. She couldn't understand how Samuel never noticed her grimaces or eyerolls or the hundreds of signs she sent him to give it up. Carla hated everything about it.

But you seemed to love it. You’d always tease her about him, calling Samuel her boyfriend and pushing her to go talk to him. She was pretty sure this whole thing had even started because of you, that you had mentioned to Samuel that Carla was interested in him in the first place. You always loved a little white lie.

For some reason you just loved to be a nuisance. You loved to watch Carla squirm when you flirted with the guys. You loved watching her become so irritated and red, grinding her teeth so hard she could start a fire. You loved flustering her in the middle of class by sending her some dirty pictures, watching her eyes go wide as she quickly hid her phone in her skirt. She’d always give you the craziest look, wondering if your antics would ever end. And you loved forcing her onto Samuel, watching her struggle to get away from him just to spend another moment with you. Of course, you never let her, always ditching her with the pretty boy and leaving her wanting more.

You were such a brat. Everyone knew it. Your parents were unbelievably rich, valued much higher than the regular Las Encinas family, so you always got want you want. Of course you used that to your advantage more times than not. It became your entire reputation.

Carla was your perfect match. Everyone was always willing to give her everything she wanted, from her father to her ex-boyfriend. Everyone but you. Carla hated it sometimes, but all those other times, she loved taking what she wanted from you.

“Hi, Carla,” Samuel said with a big, dorky smile.

“Hi, Samu,” she dryly said, placing her drink on the counter. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“Yeah, I just saw her out there,” Samuel said, pointing to the the door he had just entered through. “But-”

“Thanks,” she quickly said, giving him a grateful pat on the shoulder before walking past him in that direction. She paid no mind to how he called after her as she walked through the doorframe.

Her eyes scanned the large living room where most of the students had gathered to talk and drink. It was quite crowded and she almost didn’t see you. Almost.

But there you were sitting in one of those fancy leather chairs, a drink in one hand. But you weren’t alone, not even close. Carla could already feel her face burn up, her neutral expression turning completely sour.

You were sitting in Guzman’s lap so comfortably. You were perched on one of his legs, facing the side. Your own legs were over his and hanging over his lap. Your free arm was draped loosely over his shoulder, your nails digging into the soft skin of his neck. His hands were all over you, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other reaching to squeeze your thigh.

Maybe Carla wasn’t the murderer but in a few seconds she thought she’d become one.

She wanted to pull all of his teeth out just to wipe away his smug smile. You leaned in toward his face as you spoke, tightening your grip on his neck, and when he laughed, Carla felt he was already gloating his victory.

She wanted to slice all his fingers off when his hand began to travel downward from your waist to palm your ass. She nearly groaned when she noticed the skirt you were wearing. She knew that one very well. She knew it was the shortest one you owned from the amount of times her hand had wandered beneath it. You were basically sitting on him with your bare ass out.

And then, for the finale, she would make sure to cut his dick off. She saw the way he adjusted in the seat, slightly moving his hips up into your body. It would have been a miracle if he didn’t have the largest hard-on known to man. But the part that really made her swell with rage was that you could feel it and you weren’t doing anything about it. You were sitting on his dick like you were his girl. She hated to think about what could have happened if she hadn’t arrived at that exact time.

You raised your glass to your lips to take a long sip of expensive liquor. It was the perfect opportunity for Guzman to turn his head and find Carla standing stiffly in the doorway. He almost laughed out loud. The feeling of you sitting in his lap and her jealous glare was so triumphant. His smile doubled in size and doubled in arrogance.

Her eyes narrowed at him, a silent promise that he wouldn’t get the last laugh. If Carla’s blood was boiling before, it was on fire now.

But then, noticing Guzman’s attention had been stolen, you turned as well, instantly finding Carla’s eyes. You could feel her wrath even from across the room and you only fed off it. You were drunk off the feeling of power knowing you had La Marquesa tucked snuggly in your back pocket. It felt so good that you couldn’t help yourself.

Instead of being a simple tease like usual, you gave her a ladylike wave. And then you sent her a polite, friendly smile. It was innocent to the naked eye.

But friendly? She couldn’t bear you. You looked so fake and well-mannered. Two things you definitely weren’t. Especially when you were alone with her.

Carla couldn’t stand you acting like she was just one of your bitchy friends, like there was nothing more between you. No, she was everything for you. She owned you in every which way and she was determined for not only Guzman to see, but for you to accept it as well.

You and Guzman both directed your attention back onto one another although you were very aware of a seething Carla charging toward you. But only when she was at arms length did Guzman see her. He didn’t have enough time to react before she reached out and violently grabbed you by the arm.

“What the fuck, Carla?” Guzman shouted, outrage painting his face.

She was squeezing so tightly you could already feel the bruises forming, but you refused to go without a fight. You tugged your arm back and gave her a condescending glare.

She was done with your bullshit. She pulled your arm, twisting it in such a way that you spilled your drink all over the white rug.

“Carla!” You scolded. Her aggression surprised you a little. She always kept it classy in public, not a hair out of place. It seemed you had pushed her over the edge this time and you were enjoying it a little too much.

Carla didn’t speak but gave you the coldest look you had ever received from her hazel eyes. She looked ready to kill and you silently wondered if you would be Las Encinas’ next victim. You didn’t really mind as long as she fucked you first.

Deciding you had been difficult enough, you allowed her to take the glass from your hand and place it on the table. With another tug of your arm you were letting go of Guzman and sliding off his lap. He protested but you didn’t acknowledge him. He had finished his duty of keeping you warm until Carla rescued you.

In a blur you were weaving through the crowd, wobbling on your heels at the pace Carla was dragging you at, and then climbing the stairs. Carla opened the first door on your right and pushed you inside. You immediately recognized it as Guzman’s room.

You stumbled into the large room from the force of Carla’s shove, eventually losing your footing and falling onto the soft carpet. On all fours, you peeked over your shoulder to see Carla slam the door behind her.

But she didn’t move toward you. She just watched you, one hand still on the door knob and the other moving to sit on her hip. Now that you were alone, the look in her eyes was a bit less violent but still intense. She looked hungrier than ever.

“God, you look so much better on your knees,” she said, her eyes shamelessly devouring you. “Looking up at me.” Her lips twitched upward, reminiscent of a smile. These were the moments she enjoyed the most.

You pushed your hands off the ground and sat back on your knees. You gathered your hair on your far shoulder, giving Carla a better view of your long neck and devilish eyes.

“But I leave you for one second and you’re out there riding his dick in front of everyone like his little slut,” Carla hissed. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth a couple times and shook her head disapprovingly, scolding you like a child.

You mocked her attempts to chastise you with a condescending laugh.

“Don’t be jealous that his dick is bigger than yours,” you said, looking over your shoulder to show your shit-eating grin.

She didn’t seem to take your comment lightly as her jaw noticeably clenched and her grip on the door knob tightened.

“I would watch what you say, princesa,” she said, tilting her head. Even if she was the Marchioness’ daughter, she had always called you royalty. The title fit you too well. “Things will only get worse for you later.”

She took a confident stride toward you, enjoying the way your smile slowly diminished. Images flashed behind your eyes of what “later” could possibly be.

The feeling in your stomach was so strange. You hated being dominated by anyone, but for some reason, when it was Carla, you felt an uncontrollable pulse between your legs. You were practically begging her to shut you up.

“I don’t care how big his dick is. I know he can’t fuck you how you like it,” she said, taking another teasingly slow step.

“That’s not what I was saying last night,” you said, that aggravating smirk returning. “Actually, it was right here, on his bed. You should have seen it, Carla. I was just begging for him to go faster, deeper.”

You imitated yourself, letting your head fall back and rolling your eyes into the back of your skull. You balled your fists at your sides, gripping onto imaginary sheets.

Carla’s next two strides were quick and put her right behind you. She dug her nails into your scalp and fisted at your hair, violently pulling your head back even further so you were looking directly up at her looming figure. You released an involuntary moan at the sudden pain, stretching your hands out behind you to brace yourself.

“I fucking warned you,” she said, her other hand cupping your chin to angle your face even further back. Your mouth slightly hung open at the sight of her. “But that mouth of yours gets you into all kinds of trouble.”

“And this mouth,” you started, voice strained by the way your neck was bending backward, “took his whole fucking dick,” you said with a sadistic smile. "Every inch."

That was the final nail in the coffin, her expression morphing into one of red hot rage

Your hand instinctively flew to the back of your head and a shriek left your lips when she pulled you up by your hair. She dragged you once more, this time to the bed, and tossed you toward it face first.

You quickly turned onto your back, leaning back on your elbows while Carla stood over you. She placed her hand on your bare midriff, the skin between your top and waistband, before she climbed onto you, straddling you with her thighs.

Both of her hands quickly moved to wrap around your throat, instantly crushing your windpipe and causing you to drop flat on your back. Her slender fingers felt comfortable there as you wheezed pathetically for air, her nails digging into the skin for good measure.

“Not so tough now, are we?” She hunched over you, ass up, as she brought her face so close to yours. She grinned like a maniac. If someone had walked in right then, they would have thought Carla was trying to kill you.

“You know he showed me all those fucking pictures you sent him,” Carla said, steadying the pressure on your neck. “The pictures meant for me. And in that fucking red set.” She scoffed at you, shaking her head. “You wanna be his cam girl? His pornstar?”

You threw your head back as your eyes began to roll into your head for real this time. Pain never felt so good as you felt yourself pooling under your skirt.

“Fine. Then I’ll treat you like it,” she said, one of her hands leaving your throat to grope your tit through your shirt. She moved her face downward, leaving a trail of warm breath against your neck, eventually finding your collar bone. She looked up at your twisted expression as she roughly bit down on your skin, earning a strangled noise from your throat. She smiled into your flesh before sucking on the spot mercilessly.

It was like torture as she made it a routine, moving her lips downward each time she bit and sucked your skin raw. You felt the blood rushing to where her teeth gnawed your skin, forming pigmented bruises. She never tired of hearing the shaky breath you released each time.

When her lips had chased your skin all the way down to the neckline of your top, she was quick to grab the hem with both hands. She pulled the top over your head with your cooperation, leaving you braless and bare beneath her. She exhaled a long, satisfied sigh.

“All for me, huh?” Her eyes shifted from your face to your chest and back up again. Still trying to catch your breath, you couldn’t give her a response. She sinfully laughed, basking in the sound of muffled music and your relentless heaving, before her lips wrapped around your nipple.

You groaned low when her teeth grazed the sensitive skin, your hands molding into the back of her thighs. Her other hand mimicked her mouth on your unattended nipple. You knew she always loved twisting, yanking, and rubbing your tits until you squealed and squirmed.

Eventually her mouth moved onto the smooth skin of your breast, marking you up yet again. You rolled your eyes, wondering where this sudden obsession had come from. She always liked to keep you clean and free of noticeable hickeys. You didn’t mind the change but you were beginning to grow impatient with the foreplay. She had given so much attention to your top half you just wished she would give something to your bottom half.

“My god, Carla, could you be any slower? At least he fucked me in the end,” you said in a raspier voice, pulling on the skin of Carla’s thighs.

Carla rolled her eyes back at you, momentarily detaching her mouth from your chest.

“So fucking loud,” she mumbled, speaking more to herself than you.

She wasted no time stripping her hand from your tit and pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth. She was content when her fingers slid in with ease and pushed down your throat. You didn’t mind sucking on her like a popsicle as she pulled them out and then pushed them a little deeper. Her lips quirked upward as she absorbed the sight before her. Each time her fingers disappeared into your head she could feel the spot between her legs heating up.

“Good girl,” she said, gently holding your cheek with her other hand. She leaned down to give your chin an appreciative kiss. “Bet he couldn’t go that deep,” she said following a particularly rough thrust. She chuckled lowly, not breaking eye contact.

She returned to your tits only for a few more seconds before pulling her head back to view the entire, perfect sight of you. The hickeys were already beginning to darken on your skin leaving you perfectly bruised and battered. That plus you bobbing on her fingers was a beautiful scene. One that had to be shared.

She pulled her hand from your mouth tantalizingly slow, allowing the saliva to create sticky strings between your lips and her fingers. She eyed them curiously, slowing her movements to prolong the strings before they broke. Then she carelessly rubbed her fingers across your chest and down the valley of your breasts, leaving a visible trail of spit in her wake.

“What a pretty slut,” she said, her eyes devouring you like a piece of meat, enjoying the slightly tired look in your eyes. She made you feel unusually small. “I wonder what Guzman would think.”

Without missing a beat, Carla reaches for her back pocket and pulls out her phone.

“Carla,” you whined like a child, turning your head to the side, and burying your cheek into the sheets. You were never camera shy but this moment of vulnerability was different. If you had known this was her intention all along then maybe you wouldn’t have let her fuck you up so badly. No one was ever meant to see you like this. No one but her.

“Come on, you didn’t have a problem sending him those pictures. What’s a few more?” she said while petting your cheek. She held the phone above you, just out of reach, where she could capture the entirety of your bare top half.

She hums in satisfaction watching your sweaty body under the lens. Your hair is cinematically sprawled across the sheets while the saliva coating your lips, chin, and chest shines under the dim lighting. Your neck is slightly red from Carla’s ironclad grip and your chest is adorned with darker shades from the excellent work of Carla’s teeth and lips.

“He’s gonna cream his pants when he sees this,” she says, sucking her lips into her mouth. She was getting a little too anxious looking at you. “Smile, cariño,” she says, her own grin decorating her face. She grabs your chin and forces you to look up at her and the camera. Your eyes are barely open but it doesn’t matter.

She snaps the picture before you can even react.

“Gorgeous,” she says, letting her free hand trail gently down your neck. She intentionally presses her fingers into a particularly sensitive spot, eliciting a groan from your lips. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Carla,” you whine once more, throwing your head back in frustration and further imprinting your nails into her thighs. You hated how much she was ruining your plans. Guzman was just meant to be a distraction while Carla was supposed to make you cum all over her fingers. Instead, Carla was slutting you out to Guzman and you were nowhere near cumming.

“Shut up. You did this to yourself,” she said, her hand gliding past your chest and scratching your stomach. “You should have never sent him those pictures.”

Both of her hands move to the waistband of your skirt while still clutching the phone. She’s harsh in the way she rips the skirt down your thighs, creating some friction between the clothing and your skin. She slightly adjusts herself and bends your knees to fully remove it, leaving you in just a pair of lace panties.

She presses her palm against your clothed pussy and only laughs in yet another mockery of your state.

“Good god, you’re just dying to be fucked dumb, huh?” she says, beginning to palm the wetness that seeped through your panties. She situates herself in between your legs, allowing you to push your knees further outward, helping to aid the aching feeling inside you. Her sly smile widens, glad to have broken your hard exterior. “Already spreading your legs? You’re too easy.”

Her fingers push your panties aside and dip into your soaking pussy. She refuses to give your clit any attention as she swipes her fingers against your slit. A throaty sigh pushes its way past your lips, your hands finding solace cupping your tits.

“D’you want me to take this off for you?” she says, tugging at the waistband of your panties.

You hum in agreement, looking up at her through your eyelashes.

“Then ask nicely,” she demands, her eyes straying from your pussy to stare at you expectantly.

You can’t help but groan irritatedly. She knows how much it hurts your ego to ask nicely for anything, let alone this. She thrives off making you feel the worst before making you feel your best. You push away your pride in hopes of feeling that sweet release.

“Please, Carla,” you plead rather dully, breaking eye contact in a forced attempt to get what you want.

“I think you can do better. Look at me and tell me what you want,” she says, leaning her face down toward yours, forcing you to meet her eyes. She brushes her thumb against your clit for some encouragement. It seems to work as you let go of any last bit of dignity and look straight into her.

“Please, Carla, just fuck me. Take it off and fuck me with your fingers.”

The hidden desperation in your voice clicks something into place. You swear you see her eyes light up as she instantly obeys, removing your panties in a flash, leaving you completely naked beneath her. She moans loudly at the sight of your bare pussy, pushing her hair back so she has the perfect view. You spread your legs a little further, enticing her to reach out and feel you.

She does, now pressing her thumb roughly into your clit, and reveling in the starved noise you make. She watches the muscles in your face tense as she rubs consistent circles against your clit, enjoying each element of your expression. All the sucking and biting and teasing had already made you a swollen, soaked mess. It only made toying with you even more fun.

Carla gradually sped up her slow movements, earning increasingly louder squelches from your pussy and increasingly louder moans from your wet lips. She could feel her own panties dampening from your distraught noises.

“You even sound like a pornstar. Fucking whore,” she says, as your hips slightly buck up in pleasure. “You want me inside of you?”

“Please, please, Carla,” you beg, every sign of the brat you once embodied having faded into oblivion the second she laid fingers on your pussy. “Fuck, I need you inside of me so bad,” you say in one breath, practically moaning your words.

“Fine,” she says, slowing the rotations on your clit. You watch her rub your pussy with one hand and hold the phone above you with the other. She points it directly at your entrance. “Be a good girl for the camera, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for your response as she slowly begins pushing her finger into your hole. You can only assume she’s recording as your back arches off the mattress, feeling her slender finger dig so deep inside of you. The pleasure is almost instant when your pussy consumes her entire finger and you release a guttural moan.

“You say he fucked you but you’re still so god damn tight,” she says, her eyes darting between your pussy and the phone screen, making sure she’s capturing the perfect angle. Her exaggerated laugh rubs salt in Guzman’s wound. “Hold your legs up, baby. I want to see all of you,” she says. You immediately obey, grabbing under both your thighs and pulling your knees up to your chest. “That’s better.”

Another moan leaves your lips, feeling the stretch more intensely with your legs spread even wider. She takes it as a sign to pull her finger halfway out and then push it back in, slightly deeper. She does it agonizingly slow, building a steady wave of pleasure. She repeats herself, once, twice, three times, pushing in and out of you at a deliberate pace, leaving you a whining mess. You lose count as you grow impatient, wishing she’d thrust into you like a mad man as she had done many times before.

“Please, Carla, faster,” you beg, opening your eyes to look down at her. She moves the camera up your body, capturing your raised legs, bouncy tits, and blissed out expression.

“Sorry, what was that?” she teases, smirking behind the phone, forcing you to be louder for the video. Her attempts to soothe you with her thumb on your clit are futile.

“Faster, fuck me faster, please,” you whine, throwing your head back, hopefully out of view of the camera.

She doesn’t necessarily oblige but she does add a second finger when she pushes into your pussy again. You moan louder at the slight stretch, your insides twisting into a tight knot. She curls her fingers delightfully at the end of the thrust, only making the feeling even stronger.

She puts the camera directly over your face.

“Open your eyes, cariño,” she says. You listen, looking up at the camera, hoping she’ll reward you for following her command. “Who’s fucking you so good?”

When you don’t respond immediately, she prompts you by driving into you a little harder.

“You,” you instantly moan out, your hips chasing her hand. You fight the urge to shut your eyes

“Who?”

“You, Carla,” you moan when she curls her fingers sharply, staring into the lens. When you notice her pick up speed with her thrusts, you begin repeating her name like a prayer, hoping it’s the key word.

“Who makes you feel good inside?”

“Who makes you squirt all over the sheets?”

“Who do you belong to?”

The answer is always “Carla.”

She’s still not fucking you nearly hard enough but it’s faster than how she started. You feel your pussy throb and her fingers hit the right spot each time. Your tits are slightly shaking as she increases speed while your spine forms a permanent arch. You allow yourself to be as loud as possible in hopes of pleasing her, in hopes that she’ll let you cum. All the while she captures each godly move of your body and her fingers.

But eventually, after what feels like a lifetime, she ends the video. She throws her phone across the room and smiles down at you.

“The only thing that will be as good as fucking you is seeing his face when he opens this video,” she says, her hands leaving your pussy to cup your face. She leans down and attacks your lips with a devastatingly smooth and wet kiss, her starved lips moving intensely against yours You can barely reciprocate with the delicate state that you're in.

You almost start to complain about the emptiness of your pussy, but she suddenly ducks down, hooking her arms under your thighs and burying her face between your legs.

“If I were you, I’d start praying. Pray to God that I’ll let you cum.”

why am i lowkey feeling guzman and carla threesome??

@hauntedfictionland @mjl877 @underratedax @androgynouscloudenemy @justyourwritter69 @blondetxxz @nessyishere

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

Text

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Moon and Tide

F!Reader. Colleagues to Lovers. Mitsuki leaves, Ryuhei has some realisations.

Ryuhei experiences his first heartbreak at nineteen.

(In truth, his heart had broken time and time again with his unrequited love. Each time that Mitsuki dismisses him, each time he saw her with Shiba Inu.

But each time he used to see her, he also fell in love all over again too.)

Shortly after Sinu Han leaves, Mitsuki also departs.

"What?!" Ryuhei slams both fists down on the boardroom table, "Then I quit."

"Haven't you harassed her enough? She obviously doesn't want you to follow." Samuel Seo gazes over the top of his glasses, smirk on his face and relishing the blonde's distress.

"Watch your mouth." Ryuhei snarls, low and menacing, a clear warning as any.

"Samuel is right," Eugene is calm, voice even. "Please respect Mitsuki's wishes this one time." Unlike all the other times you've ignored her boundaries does not need to be said.

The room stills at his words. The chairman has spoken, although it does nothing to dissipate the tension. The air hangs heavy. Like an elastic band stretched taut, to its limits.

Samuel observes Mandeok tensing and Ryuhei’s nostrils flaring, and he wonders who will break first.

Ryuhei's eyes flit around the room. The silence, lack of support, from Kenta or even yourself is damning.

"Fuck you," he hisses. Leaving, not wanting to be here a second longer.

The door slams, reverberating off the walls.

"My apologies for Ryuhei's interruptions," Eugene gestures to you, "In Mitsuki's absence, Y/N will take on her duties and title."

You give a curt nod to the rest of the room, acknowledging your promotion, but your eyes stay glued to Ryuhei's empty seat.

To both of your surprise, you're the first one to reach out.

(You like to think it’s you fulfilling your new duties as president. The alliance, the uncomplicated relationship you always had with Ryuhei helped too.)

Gently knocking on his room door, calling his name. The voice, the tone, the pitch pulls him out of his mood. Briefly, for a second, before he realises the two of you sound nothing alike.

"Go away,"

He watches you respond by jiggling the handle aggressively. So much so that the entire door shakes then a second later - it opens with you striding in.

"That's handy," Ryuhei, lying in bed, glances over at you rearranging the pins back into your hair, "And a complete invasion of my privacy."

"Like you ever cared about anyone's privacy,"

Right. Another jab about Mitsuki. One that he used to take on the chin because it's true, he's not ashamed. He pines after her openly, certain that everyone in 2A would have heard of his antics by now, if not the whole of Workers.

Tonight is a different story. It's less the wound being raw and tender and more Ryuhei is missing an entire limb.

How can she leave without saying goodbye?

He misses her.

Ryuhei throws the covers over his head.

The message is clear though not enough to drive you out or to muffle your voice.

"You have 3 days to get yourself together, then I need you by my side."

Fuck off he wants to say. But what's the point anymore?

"I have negotiations that could go wrong. I need all the manpower I can get my hands on."

Like you wouldn't be able to handle it by yourself, a small voice in his brain retorts.

Whatever. This, Workers, everything has all been a complete waste of his time.

Ryuhei was officially Mitsuki's bodyguard, and it makes sense that his duties now extend to you.

Everything else thus far has transitioned smoothly, except your current dilemma: how do you deal with a bodyguard that doesn't want to guard you?

After the three days, you barge in at the crack of dawn and try to wrestle him out of bed. Out of the room that stinks of despair and depression.

A one sided obsession that has run its course, ended in the best way it could. You don't voice these thoughts out loud.

Ryuhei is a dead weight in your arms, childish and insolent and completely unhelpful.

He's a grown man. There's little you can do.

Your lips crease thin with fury but no words spill forth.

You leave without him.

It's a full week later that Ryuhei musters up enough energy to crawl out of bed, throwing on something half presentable to stretch his legs.

Wandering the corridors, guilt creeps over him when he sees you talking to Kenta, right arm bandaged and in a sling.

Kenta nods at his friend's reappearance, you ignore him completely.

Well. He supposes he deserves that.

Seeing you kick starts a little change.

Not a lot, enough to get Ryuhei out of bed every day and put up an appearance of semi-normality. Key word: semi.

He slumps over a desk half the time, willing away the hours by fiddling with the edges of papers and documents, heart aching.

(A small part of him, maybe the most pathetic part, wants to doodle Mitsuki's name over and over.)

Other times he takes to training with a ferocity that surprises himself.

The only moments he feels anything other than a hollowness is when he's by your side. Eyes constantly attracted to your broken arm.

Steel pins, Kenta had mentioned, face grim as he clicks his lighter, adding that it was only thanks to your quick thinking the executives of Workers made it out alive.

Huh, it was that bad?

The guilt builds, claws under his skin and at his conscience. Could have sworn you were ambidextrous except now he watches you struggle with your dominant hand out of action.

He's not sure if it's out of stubbornness or forgetfulness that you have used chopsticks all week. Albeit your dexterity has vastly improved since Monday, watching you is nothing short of exasperating.

Ryuhei’s peace offering comes in the form of a spoon.

You've barely exchanged words since that day where you tried to hoist him out of bed. Only on a needs-must basis. Terse and to the point.

You were thoroughly pissed off and everyone knew it.

Righteous in your anger at first. You had explicitly said that you needed all hands on deck, implicitly asked for his help and frustrated he couldn't separate his personal feelings enough to do his job when there are lives at stake. Over the past couple weeks, your ire has reduced, cooled until he is now nothing but a thorn in your side.

"Go on, just take it," The thorn in your side holds out the utensil.

You ignore him.

"Or else I could just feed you?" He offers, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes.

Ryuhei huffs when you tell him he can try if he wants a broken arm to match yours.

Inch by inch, you thaw.

Would have thawed quicker if Ryuhei lessened his efforts to get back into your good graces, causing headaches and extra work more often than not.

Still, he tries. Following you around, part bodyguard, part puppy. You appreciate it in hindsight. It’s almost cute.

Little by little, he also regains the bounce in his step.

Ryuhei tries once to contact Mitsuki.

She says she has no plans to return or to see him again.

She doesn't offer anything else.

He stays silent the whole time.

Some may consider that a form of closure, Ryuhei isn’t sure. Things at least get slightly easier after that.

Once an all encompassing searing pain, the hurt and heartbreak eventually settles and dulls into a throb.

Normalcy becomes less of a facade.

Ryuhei flips off Eugene in earnest, tells Samuel Seo to eat shit with sincerity, struts 2A with his confident gait once more.

"Nomen," you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. Even with your mask on, he can hear the smile in your voice. "It's good to have you back."

"Yeah," he agrees. It is good to be back.

Not everything is smooth sailing, however.

In his more melodramatic moments, in which there are many, Ryuhei vows never to love again, endure a lifetime of chastity, promising to never so much as gaze at another woman.

You snort at the declarations.

"What?" He snaps and you pointedly return his gaze as he remains indignant, "You don't count."

You let that particular one slide but- "Who's going to sleep with you anyway, you're a pathetic asshole."

"A very handsome pathetic asshole," he corrects.

"Hmm." Yet you don't disagree.

It's only later that day, stuck in another godforsaken meeting with you and Eugene, when boredom strikes and his mind wanders that Ryuhei realises that you didn't refute his claim.

He watches you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed.

Huh.

Ryuhei doesn't care about you, not like he cares about Mitsuki. Though he doesn't care about anyone the same way he cares (cared?) about her.

It's not personal.

His relationship with you has always been easy, flirtatious without intent.

Sharp words and double entendres litter your conversations. Fun during the better moments, aggravating during others. Skin deep, superficial. He doesn't know you beyond the limits of your words, not really, and the experience is mutual.

Others have commented on your strength and character before. Formidable. A force to be reckoned with.

Even more have taken note of your looks, a common water cooler topic.

To Ryuhei, you're like the moon. Sure you're nice to look at. Yet when Mitsuki is the stars and beyond; dazzling, glittering with untold adventures, how can anyone possibly compare?

(In the end, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Though not in the way Ryuhei expects.)

He carries out his new bodyguard tasks without complaint.

It only made sense with your arm out of commission, and him technically and almost literally being your right hand man, that he carries your bag, your coffee too. Really, whatever you need.

What’s more, he now knows you take your coffee exactly like him. Quadruple shot, milky and disgustingly sweet.

Spends more time scrolling on your phone than a president probably should.

Hate sitting with your back to the door. And in meetings where there are no other options, Ryuhei makes sure to position himself opposite instead of being next to you. Himself sat where you would have preferred. One eye on any potential dangers and the exit route, giving a reassuring, roguish smile that eases your worries.

Bags under your eyes naturally mean a poor night’s sleep. Bags under your eyes and hair in a ponytail means you do not want to be here today. Something you would never voice out loud, but Ryuhei can read you anyway.

On those days, he makes sure he’s always one step ahead and extra considerate. He’s not completely altruistic, he also doesn’t want to be shouted at again.

The emptiness still comes and goes, catches him out when he least expects it. Usually he feels Mitsuki’s absence more than remembers her presence.

Ryuhei notices you a bit more too, these days. Ever since your offhand agreement.

The way you say his name is nothing like how she used to. The way you look at him is nothing like how she used to.

It’s actually warmer.

“You fucking idiot,” your tone is a complete contrast to your gentle hands, now completely healed and bandaging up his instead.

Ryuhei pouts with mock hurt and you roll your eyes. You will not give him sympathy, not for this.

(A yelp diverted your attention earlier today, and you rushed to find Kenta holding his lighter and Ryuhei cradling his own hand, wincing in pain.

You took one look at the two guilty faces and realised that the blonde moron wanted to learn how to set his finger alight like Kenta without hurting himself.

Ryuhei is one thing, but you expected better from Kenta. You turn to him, disappointment painted on your face and tell him exactly that.

“What about me!” Ryuhei had the audacity to pipe up. You roughly snatched his wrist and dragged him away.)

“Don’t set yourself on fire again,” you punctuate each word by sharply jabbing him in the chest with your finger.

Ryuhei flutters his eyelashes at you in a way he thinks must be quite charming and endearing. Who knows where the hell he got that idea from. You’re tempted to gouge out his eyes more than anything.

Somehow, you manage to resist. You also refrain from rolling your eyes at him again.

(You worry if you do that anymore, they might get permanently stuck and never return back to normal.)

Ryuhei studies his injured hand. Lying in bed, other hand behind his head, holding it up into the direct path of the silver moonlight cutting through the darkness.

He moves it, angles it this way and that. Letting the highlights and shadows illuminate your neat handiwork.

Something about this makes him feel funny. A little light headed.

He can’t recall the last time anyone touched him so kindly. Can’t recall anyone ever taking care of him when he’s been hurt before.

If he squints and looks at the neat little knot just right, he can almost see a heart shape.

It’s odd.

Were you always this flirtatious? Was he always this coquettish with you?

Did you always return his taunts with such a sparkle in your eyes?

When did you start having so many inside jokes, your own moments snickering together?

And it’s like he can finally see you. No longer subjected to his previous tunnel vision, he finally understands what everyone has been saying.

You’re much more stunning than Ryuhei remembers.

He also doesn’t remember your smile making him feel this way before.

Lastly, he remembers saying ‘you don’t count’. His words have come back to bite him.

Ryuhei wakes up at his usual time on a Wednesday.

It’s a nothing special sort of day.

Slinks out of his bed like he usually does, goes about his day as he usually does, teases you with intention and a quickened pulse. Which… ok, that one is new.

All in all. It’s fine. It’s an unremarkable Wednesday.

Except the dull ache in his chest, one he has had to endure for the last few months, isn't there anymore.

There’s a different type of guilt at play.

First-

When you’re used to something for years and years, it takes time to break out of a habit. For the first time, Ryuhei begins to see his attachment to Mitsuki as the unhealthy obsession that it is.

He’s not fully ready to pick this apart just yet.

Second-

How do you separate a rebound from something real? That you’re not just a replacement, a new person to pass the time?

And that idea, that you’re a replacement for anything, shocks him. It’s unimaginable to think of you as a passing fancy because you deserve so much better.

That really should have given him an inkling.

On the other hand. When Ryuhei has only surrounded his love life with the one red flag, and himself being the other red flag too… he has a lot to learn.

Unfortunately you did get one thing right: Ryuhei is pathetic. His baseline personality is an absolute simp.

Maybe it would have been different if his informative years played out differently. Alas.

Alone, he tries to dissect his thoughts and feelings. In your company, he is much more simple. Constantly wanting to capture your attention, which you give easily and with minimal conditions.

Ryuhei can now read you like the back of his hand, knows your preferences so well that he’s able to anticipate your needs before they develop into needs. Wants, at best. Perhaps not even that.

And when other people look at you, the desire shown easily on their face that he has tried to tamper down, his possessiveness and jealousy flares.

Unsubtle shoulder barges and sneers are thrown in their direction.

But Ryuhei is nothing if not patient. He supposes it won’t be so bad if you turn him down and you’re happy with someone else.

He’s used to that.

Giving you the opportunity to turn him down though, he’s not sure yet how to go about.

Conveniently, an opportunity does arise.

Celebrating the new Fifth Affiliates, Eugene had said, showing his face at the gathering for about ten minutes before leaving.

Then the two newbies, who Ryuhei doesn’t bother to get the names of because he sure as hell doesn’t want to know anyone with tacky ‘H’ tattoos (on their forehead and neck for crying out loud!), leave shortly after.

Ryuhei also considers it a small victory when Samuel Seo departs, after a very witty verbal sparring to see who can tell each other to fuck off in increasingly creative ways.

“You’re so fucking juvenile,” you sigh, though you begrudgingly admit that you were impressed throughout that display.

“At least I got the last word in,” Ryuhei grins, giving the finger to Samuel’s retreating back.

The room empties out at a quicker rate now that the non-mandatory, completely optional (if you want to keep your job) gathering is devoid of the more severe senior management.

No more than another 30 minutes pass and only you and Ryuhei remain. Two small figures in an oversized room, full of empty tables but one.

Ryuhei rests one elbow on the table, propping up his head and looks at you with a cocky smile.

“Remember when I said I’m never going to gaze at anyone ever again? That was a lie.”

“Really.” You deadpan, resisting once more the urge to roll your eyes. It might be the most difficult thing you have ever had to do.

“I lied when I said you don’t count too.”

Ryuhei, for all his flaws, has only ever been forthright with his emotions. In his own roundabout and very sex-pest way with Mitsuki, though he did confess in the end. As for right now, well, he has learned his lesson.

You give him a response he didn’t expect.

“I think you should spend more time on your own first.”

Ryuhei is immediately placed on a leave of absence the next day.

You explain clearly to him as he sits opposite, his very official letter scrunched in his fist and feeling extremely petulant, that while you do like him, he needs some distance to everything.

He only hears the first part. You like him? You? Like? Him? The words swim round and round in his mind.

“Ryuhei,” you snap your fingers and him out of his daze.

“Then what’s the problem?” he whines.

“Don’t make me into another Mitsuki,” Ryuhei opens his mouth to argue that he won’t, there is no way-

“Ryuhei,” you repeat his name again in an authoritative tone that leaves no room for argument. Echoing your words from yesterday. “You need to spend more time on your own. This is non negotiable.”

Ryuhei sulks like there is no tomorrow.

Tries to manifest you outside his door but to no avail. He doesn’t see you at all.

That just about surmises his first week.

The week after, he thinks about you. How strange that you started as colleagues, almost friends first. How well he actually knows you.

Now months after Mitsuki has left, Ryuhei can only piece together fragments of her.

Even still, he had never seen the whole picture. He never knew her in her entirety, only the portrait he painted.

What becomes exceedingly clear is his one sided behaviour.

The fog, the rose tinted glasses fully lifts in the fourth week.

The sixth week he carefully pries open the past.

Gently picks apart what he wasn’t ready to before.

Moments of self reflection are painful, embarrassing. If the earth could open up and swallow him whole, he would gladly take it.

He still feels something for Mitsuki, though pertaining more to the remorse and shame side rather than anything else.

In an ideal world, he would seek her out and offer an apology for his past behaviour. However, in the real world, that only helps to alleviate his own conscience.

He has already reached out once before and she has given her answer.

Nothing else from Ryuhei now would benefit either party.

Two full months later, Ryuhei sees you once again at work.

Your smile still makes his heart flutter and brain short wire.

Except he can now see you as a whole person, all your flaws and faults too. What he used to ignore with Mitsuki, blinded by his obsession.

His feelings for you don't change.

Ryuhei wonders when he started to like you.

Thinks his heart liked you before his brain even realised. When the time is right, he needs to apologise for how long it took him to fully catch up.

He remembers thinking of you as the moon once, paling in comparison to the stars and the great beyond.

That wasn’t quite fair. Wasn't accurate at all.

If you are the celestial body, luminous and hung high in the heavens by the gods themselves, then Ryuhei considers himself the tide.

He understands now, with its lunar radiance, there is nothing that comes close.

Quite simply: 月が綺麗ですね

(The moon is beautiful, isn't it?)

At twenty, Ryuhei experiences real love.

Experiences what it truly means to love and to be loved.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism fic #ryuhei kuroda #ryuhei kuroda x reader #ryuhei x reader #wannaeatramyeon #3.5k words on this fucking asshole #a little. maybe a lot OOC.#trying to break him out of Mitsuki's grasps #✨character growth✨#making this pathetic meow meow less pathetic

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anonymousbardd · 10 months ago

Text

🤍 | Him & His Secretary

Samuel Seo x FemReader

────── 〔✿〕──────

"Mr. Seo, there's someone who wishes to see you," a young girl said, "Who are they?" The former President of the fourth Affiliate, Samuel Seo asked.

"They claim to know you, he goes by the name Jake Kim," (F/n) replied.

Samuel's ears perked up and he glanced at the young woman in front of him, "What does he want?" He asked, still looking down at his computer.

"I want to talk to you," a dark haired man entered.

"You're interrupting my work, you know?" Samuel said, he then glanced at the young woman, in which (F/n) replied with a nod.

"It seems like Mister Seo is busy at he moment, it would be appreciated if you leave."

"No can do sweetie," Jake replied, (F/n) sighed and pushed her glasses up, "You seem to have misunderstood, Mister Kim, that wasn't a request."

"You looking for a fight?" Jake asked, looking down at the woman, "Fight me if you dare, there are cameras here."

"If shown to the authorities, who do you think will be more favoured?"

Jake clicked his tongue and looked at Samuel and frowned, "I'll come back," he said.

Samuel hummed and shooed him away, a noticeable annoyance crept on his face.

Jake then left, (F/n) was also about to leave the office and Samuel stopped her, "Stay, (L/n)," he said.

"Is there anything you need help with?" (F/n) asked, shifting her attention to his, "Close the door," Samuel smiled.

The room suddenly felt tense, the way Samuel sat and looked at (F/n) to an almost intimidating degree.

"I didn't think you'd be capable with such bluff," Samuel grinned, (F/n) smiled and held her clipboard up to her chest, "I'm just doing what I'm needed to do."

Samuel chuckled and stood up from his chair, "Come closer, (F/n)," he said, the young woman obeyed and walked towards the muscular man.

Samuel leaned closer, he held (F/n)'s face by the chin, his eyes looked at hers.

Samuel grinned as he looked at the young woman's eyes, the way she looked at him completely change, her pupils were filled with lust.

"You're very interesting, Miss (L/n)," he said.

As the muscular man was about to close his eyes, Jake busted in with Jerry and some others.

They were all taken it back when they saw the sight of the two of them so close to each other.

(F/n) hurriedly pulled away and faced the door, while Samuel cleared his throat and fixed his hair, "What makes you think you can barge in like that in my office?" Samuel asked, the tension in the air was somewhat awkward.

"I told you, I'll be back," Jake replied.

"I didn't think you'd be back this quick, did you miss me that much already?" Samuel asked, raising a brow.

"Guess you could say that, come back to big deal."

Samuel let out an amuse laugh and walked away from his desk, "Give me a reason to," Samuel said.

"You and your lover could live freely," Jake replied.

(F/n)'s face flushed red when she heard the word lover as a way to describe her relationship with Samuel.

"She's not my lover, she is my secretary," Samuel stated, his cheeks were slightly tinted with pink.

"My secretary and I are more than capable to live freely, in our own separate ways, thank you," Samuel added.

"You're bold for going back here," Jake let out a huff and crosses his arms, "The way miss secretary delivered the bluff could have fooled me, but fortunately for us, we've already got this place scanned out."

"Mister Seo has important things he must tend to..." (F/n) said, putting her hair up in a ponytail.

Jake had a sly grin and cracked his neck, "Sure, but I'm not leaving here until we have a proper conversation."

Samuel sighed and smirked, "If that's what you want, then..." His eyes widened, Samuel's gaze looked at Jake's, "Entertain me."

══════════════════ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

┆➽───── TimeSkip ────────❥

"Sir, are you alright?" (F/n) asked as she held Samuel's shoulder, "I'm fine, don't get in my way," he growled.

(F/n) sighed, the office had turn into a mess, the other members of Big Deal were too frightened to come in-between the two fighting men.

Surprisingly, no one has yet come to dispose of the intruders, half an hour had passed.

(F/n) sighed and looked at the two men who were breathing heavily, "You both are tired, you should stop."

"Don't worry about us, sweetheart, this will be over in no time," Jake said in such a way that triggered Samuel.

(F/n) frowned and got in between the two of them, "How about I propose you a deal," she said, Jake paused for a moment and looked at the woman, "Continue."

"Leave the office and help pay for the damages, and I'll schedule you an appointment for a meeting with Mister Seo," she said.

"The hell are you doing?" Samuel spat, he glared at the woman in front of him, "Mister Samuel, we both know that you aren't in the condition to fight for a little more longer."

"After all, you still haven't fully recovered from the kidnapping incident," she added.

(F/n) looked back at the tired man with a cold gaze, "As your secretary, I can't have you getting more injuries."

Jake let out a huff and stood straight, "The deal isn't too shabby, how do I know you're not lying to me," he asked.

(F/n) pushed up her glasses and smiled, "Mister Kim, I never go back on my word."

Jake nodded and turned his back away from the two, "Alright then, how long am I going to wait?"

"Approximately a week, specifically, Tuesday 3:30pm," (F/n) said.

"Alright then, I'll see ya later, Samuel."

After all of them left, Samuel grabbed (F/n) by the collar, "Why the fuck did you do that?!" He asked, his eyes were enraged.

(F/n) sighed and placed a hand on Samuel's cheek, "You're breaking yourself, you need rest."

She then glanced at his lips and back to his eyes, "Didn't Mister Goo himself told you that you need to take it easy?" (F/n) asked, her voice was soft and gentle.

Samuel clicked his tongue and looked away, "Fine."

After a long night, Samuel and (F/n) headed back to Samuel's apartment.

"Would you like a warm bath?" (F/n) asked, Samuel sighed and nodded, (F/n) helped the young man take off his coat, he had serval cuts and bruises.

"I'll heat up the water for you," (F/n) said, she headed to the bathroom and opened the water, she then poured in some soap, causing the water to foam up with bubbles.

The young woman got distracted and she started playing with the foamy water, as she did, Samuel walked in wearing a bathrobe.

He caught sight of his usual cold and serious secretary being gentle and calm.

Samuel cleared his throat causing (F/n) to let out a quiet squeek, "Ah—.., Sir I didn't hear you come in," she awkwardly chuckled.

"A bubble bath?" Samuel asked, raising a brow, he gave the young girl a look that said, "Do I look like a child to you?"

(F/n) giggled, a sweet sound coming of her lips made Samuel feel a tug in his stomach.

"It'll help you relax, sir."

Samuel sighed and took off his bathrobe with no shame whatsoever.

He slowly got in the warm bath, as he soaked his body, he let out a deep breath and relaxed.

Samuel closed his eyes and rested he arms on both sides of the tub.

(F/n) then fetched a cloth that was wet and soapy to help clean Samuel.

She gently rubbed the cloth on his body, starting with his right arm, her soft touch made Samuel ease up.

The way (F/n) softly cleaned him like he's a delicate antique vase, that with any wrong move it'll shatter.

"What would you like for dinner tonight, sir?" The young woman asked, Samuel grabbed the young girl's wrist and looked at her eyes.

"Stop it..." He muttered, (F/n) looked at him with a concerned look, "You... You can't keep doing this to me, (F/n)."

"What are you—..," Samuel cut her off by looking at her, his eyes were filled an emotion (F/n) never saw in him before.

His cheeks were flushed with red and his breathing raced.

"How long have you been working for me?" He asked, "Almost two years now..."

Samuel chuckled and held (F/n)'s hand to his cheek, "Two hears, huh..." He said.

"That's how long I've been wanting you."

(F/n)'s eyes widen from his words, "What do you mean...?" She asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, (F/n), I see it in your eyes, your voice, the way you move."

(F/n) sighed and slightly frowned, "Come on now... Don't tell me you're falling in love too..." Her voice cracked as she looked at Samuel's eyes, her own were starting to get filled by tears.

Samuel chuckled and held (F/n)'s chin, "Why're you crying?" He asked, "We both know how shitty this will end up."

The muscular man sighed and smiled, he then pecked (F/n) on the lips and looked at her eyes, "I do... And I don't care, in the end, I get what I want."

(F/n) sighed and splashed Samuel with water, catching him off gaurd, "H-hey! What was that for?!" He asked, letting out a playful laugh.

"You're and idiot," (F/n) muttered, hiding her flustered face, "Yeah? Well I'll be your idiot, forever."

#lookismoneshot #lookism #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo

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ayylovley · 9 months ago

Note

2 - taking shower and 4 - aftercare with my big boy Sam <333333333

2. Taking a shower/bathing with them, 4. Aftercare ❤️

After a long day of work, Samuel had to blow some stress away, he didn’t expect you to be in the shower once he got home to you. With a mean grin painted on his face with the idea of scaring, surprising you while you’re vulnerable and naked. Finding himself undressing in the bathroom as you were completely unaware, too busy with your back turned humming softly to yourself. Squeezing a bottle of coconut scented body wash on the palm of your hand. When suddenly the glass shower door behind you was slammed shut making a big ‘BANG’

You jumped out of your skin, dropping the bottle to the ground as the water runs down the drain. As soon as your eyes meet Samuel’s your heart decreases a little from the brief fear that someone broke in while you were showering.

“Samuel! You fucking bastard you scared me!!”

“That was the plan.” He didn’t hide his enjoyment of the success. He steps forward to your frame, once he was close enough he placed his hand on your thigh and gripped it gently. “I had a shitty day again, I’ll need to relive this stress.” You know how Samuel gets when he comes home from a long day at work, he’s always primal in bed but he gets twice as much when everyone was on his case. With your back pressed right against the glass, your backside squished against it from the help of Samuel pushing you up, his strength and speed wasn’t just useful for fighting.

Because within seconds you can feel his thick cock stretching your tight hole, his fast pounding fills the steamy air with both of your bodies slap together. “Mm fuck this is the best pussy I’ve ever had!”

His crude praise along with his tip harshly punching the softest and squishiest spot inside leaves your eyes rolling back full of nothing but bliss and heaven. You could hear a laugh in your ear, “that’s right, (y/n). Only my dick can make you feel like this. You like that?”

You were too busy screaming his name to respond to anything, your nails dragging deep in his back. Encouraging him to repeatedly bang your ass on the glass more intensely. “Don’t you dare cum.” You already know his way of this, he fucks you like an animal and never lets you cum the first time you feel the thick need to release. You still most of the time obey his orders especially on the days he came home from a bad day at work not wanting to know how much worse the punishment is compared to the times he’s just being playful and needs to be in control.

It feels like an hour has gone by when you try your best to edge yourself, in between fast paced thrusts, Samuel would painfully slow down while still inside of you. He loves how you’re begging and crying for your orgasm, it makes him continue with fierce movements again. His balls following with brutal smacks on your ass, “You’re being such a good girl. You know what, maybe I’ll make you edge a little more and then I’ll let you cum around my dick.” A couple more primal thrusts leaves you overstimulated, your core aching and throbbing from the endless momentum.

“You’ve earned your reward now, you slut. Go ahead and cum for me.”

With a moan filling your ear, his thick cock pulls out slowly with a slight fill of his own seed purposefully wasn’t being fast enough. With the intense climax it’s made your body clench and tense up caught up in the heavenly bliss, your throbbing entrance oozing with the salty liquid as it dripped down Sam’s balls. His own seed rubbed and coated against the surface of your pussy, letting you feel the hot load on your skin.

You need to take a deep breath before moving again, feeling your legs like jello once Samuel unwraps your shaking legs and let your feet back on the wet floor.

Once you’re both on his bed, the lights dim in the room and he flips you on your stomach to straddle your ass just to give your shaking legs a nice massage. He has no problem taking care of you when it comes down to how he pounded you into oblivion. You can already feel the wobbling feeling and sore pain in your inner thighs fading away as he has one hand groping your ass.

“You want some water?”

“…no I’m ok. I do want to be in your arms though.”

You look behind him over your shoulder to catch any approval, he sighs “You’re so needy, (y/n). Fine.” He meets you laying down beside you, immediately intertwining his muscular arms around your frame “wait a minute, this isn’t an excuse to touch my chest again is it?”

There’s a laugh heard from you “what do you think?” Your teeth nibbles on his pecks “Careful, (y/n). You seem to forget who can be in charge here.”

#lookism #lookism comic #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon

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stardustbarbarians · 10 months ago

Text

Enchanted

A Daniel Wagner / Samuel Kiszka fic

Summary: Sometimes it takes some meddling to see what is right in front of you.

Tags: fluff, love spell au, very light angst, low-key funny

Words: 10.8 k

Author's Note: Happy (late) Valentine's Day!! I literally got the idea for this one the day of the holiday and proceeded to write this, thinking it would be at max like 2,000 words. So, yeah, this one kinda got away from me. Anyway, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel for being more enthusiastic about this idea than I was (she also made the cover pic so everyone say thank you, Karou). Title taken from Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Please enjoy!! <3

+++

When Danny had the idea to go to the art fair near his house, he hadn’t thought he’d be walking away with an honest to god love potion. I mean, those aren’t real, right?? It’s all just made up for awful rom-coms and Disney movies. So, when that witchy woman had stopped him and gave it to him for free, he thought nothing of it.

He had been weaving through the various booths, eyes catching on all the colorful and sometimes gaudy wares these artists were trying to pedal. Some of them were honestly good, others were just clearly trying to make a quick buck. Danny bought a few things; a few jewelry pieces he thought were cute and a fresh squeezed lemonade.

“Danny?” a woman had spoken up, catching the drummer’s attention. He tensed up at being called out, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized but knowing it was always a possibility every time he left his house.

Schooling his features to be warm and inviting, Daniel turned on his heel to face the woman. She was what Danny could only describe as a “contemporary witch”, complete with long, black hair and a revealing yet classy black dress and a wide-brimmed black hat. Danny had to suppress his scoff at how on the nose she looked, glancing around her clearly witch-themed, yet populated, booth. But, it clearly worked to help sell her goods, so who was he to judge.

“Hey!” he responded, abandoning his wandering and making his way over to her. She smiled widely at him, her eyes lighting up as he approached.

“Oh, my god. My friends are never gonna believe me,” she rushed, her tattooed hands fluttering to her chest.

“How about we get a picture to prove it to them?” he offered, having gone through this enough times over the years to know that that was what most people were after when they spotted him.

She nodded, searching frantically for her phone. When she pulled it out from behind the register, Daniel noticed two things. One; her hands were shaking. Two; her lock screen was a picture of him and Sam posed together. It was a picture of them on stage, embracing and beaming at one another and - wow, is that really what he looks like when he smiles at Sam?

They took their picture, her asking for a hug from him which he happily gave her.

“So, what brings you over this way?” the woman - ironically named Greta - asked, leaning against the table she had set her register up on. Danny worried for a second as her long hair passed over a candle, only for him to realize it wasn’t real.

“Had a free afternoon to myself, thought I’d check the art fair out,” he answered honestly, a shrug of his shoulders tacked on at the end.

She nodded acceptingly. “Find anything interesting?”

Danny held up his fingers, wiggling them to show off the rings he purchased as well as shook his cup of lemonade in front of her, smiling. She laughed, her head tipping back a bit to show off a moth tattoo that rested under her clavicles.

“That’s all, huh? You must be pretty picky.” She looked him up and down, her eyes feeling strangely like they were able to see past his physical form. Danny blamed that on the witch-themed booth she ran.

Danny shrugged again. He didn’t think he was, but then again maybe he was.

“Here,” she blurted out, jumping up from her perch to brush past him to go deeper into her booth. Daniel watched as she stopped in front of a display of bowls that held vials of various shapes and sizes. Each one was sorted by color, some of them even seeming to glow which made Daniel do a double take. There was probably just a light fixed at the base of the bowl to give them that effect.

“On the house,” Greta chirped before tossing something at Daniel. He instinctively caught it, letting out a breath of relief that he had. When he got a proper look at it, Danny realized that she had thrown him a vial of baby pink liquid that had been sealed in a teardrop shaped glass vial. The top was a gradient into Barbie pink and formed to a point, sharp enough to probably kill a man. Daniel turned it over in his hand, the liquid sparkling in the light of the sun streaming in through an opening in the tent he was in.

“What is this?” he dumbly asked, already knowing what the hell it was.

“A love potion,” Greta flippantly answered. When Danny snapped his head up to look at the woman, he saw the mischievous glint in her eye that never reached her soft smile.

Daniel coughed on his own spit as he swallowed wrong. He covered it up by taking a few sips of his lemonade. He had no idea how to react to that.

“Uhh… that’s really kind of you, but I can’t take this.”

“Nonsense. I insist,” she pressed, waving off his concerns with a wave of her hand.

Daniel looked back and forth between the woman and the vial in his hand, weighing the pros and cons. Then he realized how ridiculous he was being. It was a kind gesture and love potions weren’t real.

He tucked the vial into his pocket of his jean jacket and smiled. “Thanks!”

“My pleasure,” she answered, that devilish gleam back in her eye as well as that feeling that she was seeing through him rather than at him, “and trust me, you will be thanking me later.”

That made Daniel chuckle a bit nervously. She was starting to creep him out a bit; time to make a quick exit.

“Right, well. Maybe I’ll see you at one of our upcoming shows!” Danny politely suggested, already backing out the way he had come in.

“Of course! Talk to you later!” Greta’s last sentence sent a shiver up Danny’s spine. It felt like a promise rather than a send off.

With one last quick smile, Danny got his ass out of there and trotted down the booths to get away. He definitely wanted to toss that so-called “love potion” away now. There was no telling what was actually in it. He’d just throw it into the next trash can he saw.

+++

Daniel did not toss it away. Instead, he forgot about it completely and left it in his jacket pocket. It stayed there for a month, silently waiting for the next time someone would wear that jacket and find it.

“Hey, Dan!” Danny was in his kitchen taking some ibuprofen for the headache he was fighting when he heard Sam call out for him.

With a big gulp and a gag he didn’t even try to suppress as he felt the pills catch on the side of his throat, Danny responded with a shout of his own. “Yeah?!”

“Can I borrow a jacket?! It’s cold as balls out and I don’t have one!”

Setting his empty glass of water in the sink, Daniel ran a hand through his curls. Sam had stopped over at Danny’s before the band’s scheduled studio time so the two of them could carpool.

“Yeah!” he shouted back. He went through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything he needed before he left, adding Sam to the bottom of that list.

“What the fuck is this in your pocket?!” Sam called out again, breaking through Danny’s concentration.

“I don’t know! I’m not over there!”

It was quiet again for a moment, Danny quickly going through his checklist again as he passed by his laundry room to grab some socks from the pile.

“Can I drink it?!”

Daniel, starting to get a little frustrated by Sam’s antics already, huffed out in exasperation.

“Go ahead!” he screamed harsher than he had meant to. But, really, how the hell was Daniel meant to know what the fuck Sam was talking about. It probably was a shot of fireball or something he never drank. And if Sam wanted to be tipsy while they recorded… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“It tastes like bubblegum!” Sam excitedly exclaimed, his voice louder as Danny was just around the corner from where he was stationed by the front door.

“That’s great, buddy,” Daniel dismissed, walking past him briefly as he went to grab his sticks from the living room. Doing the pat down on his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet, Daniel finally rounded the corner to his front door only to see Sam sprawled out on the ground.

“Sam?” Danny cautiously asked, hoping Sam was just being theatrical over how long Danny was taking to leave.

But then he didn’t answer. Or move, for that matter.

“Sammy?!” Daniel was distraught now, tossing his sticks to the side as he kneeled down next to Sam to shake him.

He still wasn’t stirring, but at least his chest was moving. Daniel frantically searched for a pulse, lifting up his hand to check his wrist. That was when he spotted the nearly empty teardrop shaped vial in Sam’s hand and Danny’s heart sank even further.

“No no no no-” Danny chanted under his breath, pressing his fingers into Sam’s wrist. His heart rate slowed a bit when he was able to feel Sam’s pulse in his fingertips. He sighed deeply, feeling his shoulders sag in relief.

“C’mon, Sammy,” Danny implored, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and began to shake him. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to make his head loll around his shoulders.

When that didn’t work, Danny bit his lip as his brow knit together. He had an idea, but he’d feel awful for going through with it. With another sigh, Daniel resigned himself to it.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he murmured, pulling his right hand off the bassist’s shoulder. He reared it back and smacked it smartly against his friend’s cheek. Cringing at how loud the slap resounded in the echo-y chamber of his vestibule, Daniel smoothed his hand back over the pink mark blossoming on Sam’s face.

It worked, to Danny’s utter relief.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open as Daniel caressed his fingers across the angry outline of his hand, groaning as he lifted his hand to his forehead.

“What the hell happened?” Sam grumbled out, sitting up on his own. Danny sat back onto his heels, raking his eyes over Sam to check for any signs of danger.

“You drank the vial in my jacket and passed out, I guess,” Daniel tried to explain, the concern leaking through his tone. Sam still had yet to look at Danny, his eyes having shut once more as he sat fully upright.

Huffing out a laugh, Sam looked at the vial in his hand, a drop of that baby pink liquid slipping out of the opening and splattering onto the floor. He turned it over in his fingers a few times before he spoke again. “Hell of a rush.”

Daniel couldn’t help but snort, his worries easing significantly at the joke. Sam was going to be ok. Maybe a little groggy, but ok. That Greta girl should count herself lucky nothing worse had happened to Sam or else he’d bring down hell around her ears for hurting his best friend.

“Alright, Sam. Let’s get you up or else we’ll be late for studio time,” Danny grunted out as he hauled Sam up to his feet by his arm.

“Right, right,” Sam quietly answered, his hair flying out around him as he shook his head to presumably clear it.

And that was when Sam looked at Danny for the first time since he fell.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

+++

“Hey, guys, we might want to reschedule.”

“Yeah? And why is that?” Jake was the first one to look over at Daniel. And when he did, Danny watched as his entire body went rigid as his eyes flew wide open.

“Something wrong- oh my god.” That was Josh, this time. And just like Jake, Josh’s eyes got comically wide as he took in the sight of Danny and Sam.

And Daniel really couldn’t blame them. He’d have the same reaction if he saw his little brother clinging onto his best friend as if his life depended on it.

Sam had long since jumped into Danny’s arms, his arms and legs wrapped around Daniel as if he were a monkey and Daniel his favorite tree. He had refused to get down, Danny having tried to fight him in the parking lot before entering the studio to get him to walk on his own, but Sam was having none of it. Even on the drive over, Sam had tried to climb into Danny’s lap a few times all while gushing about how pretty he thought Danny was. He finally got Sam to stay in his seat after promising to hold his hand as he drove. But as soon as they stepped out of the car, it was no holds barred.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jake asked, his eyes still locked onto his baby brother’s strange behavior.

“I’m holding the love of my life!” Sam answered for Daniel. And if Daniel’s face wasn’t burning before, he was certain it was set ablaze by that. And the worst part was Daniel could tell Sam was using a genuine tone.

He watched the twins look between the two rhythm section members, their lips pursing as they took in the sight. Daniel wanted to hide his face in his hands, but they were currently holding his obnoxious best friend so he couldn’t.

“Oooooooooo-k. Umm, what the fuck is going on?” Josh had abandoned his station at his microphone, setting the equipment down on a chair to his left before he joined Jake at his side.

Danny sighed, his eyes closing in shame. He wanted to look everywhere else but at the twins and their calculating and bewildered gazes.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Daniel let out a squeak after he spoke, Sam surprising him with kisses he placed on the side of Danny’s neck where his head was nuzzled. He tried to pull away, but Sam just chased after him with his lips.

“Try us,” Josh answered, his arms crossing over his chest as his hip popped out. Jake was idly fiddling with his guitar, probably not even aware that he was playing at all, but his eyes never left Danny.

With a deep sigh, Daniel launched into the story of Greta and her stupid fucking love potion. While he was explaining, he knew his story sounded made up. I mean, for god’s sake, the titular character shared the name of their band. It just sounded like he was caught in a lie. The only thing he knew would work in his favor was the potion vial that he had the foresight of bringing with him.

It was a fight, but Daniel was able to wrangle Sam off of him and set his feet on the floor. However, the man still refused to let go of him completely. So Daniel had to live with Sam resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Danny’s torso. With his hands finally free, Daniel was able to fish that vial out of his pocket and toss it over to the twins.

Josh caught it, Jake watching it sail over towards his twin with his eyes. Daniel watched as they inspected it, the baby pink liquid still shimmering in the light. He pointedly ignored Sam and his embarrassing antics. Or, at least he tried to. It was very hard when he kept peppering kisses all over Danny’s cheek and neck as he spoke sweet nothings into his ear. Danny felt shivers dance their way across his skin, his veins warming at all the contact and compliments. But he refused to indulge in them. Sam was not himself right now and he would be damned if he was going to take advantage of him. But, they still felt nice.

After a few seconds of turning over the evil liquid, Josh tossed it back over to Daniel.

“Alright,” Jake started, pulling the cord out of his guitar, “we believe you.”

“Really?” Danny was truly bewildered. He thought the twins were going to think it was some kind of stupid prank they were trying to pull on them. He was actually relieved they did.

“Yeah. We’ve never seen Sam act this way before. Plus he’s a dog shit actor,” Josh answered, a laugh escaping his lips after the last sentence. Danny had to agree; he’d seen the movies Josh had made where Sam was the lead. There weren’t that many.

“Oh, thank god. Because I need help.” Daniel’s tone was desperate, his hands trying to pull Sam’s off his waist. But every time he tried, Sam would just slide them back into place. He eventually gave up, huffing in resignation as Sam giggled in his ear. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you on this one. I don’t know where we’ll even start,” Jake bluntly pointed out, placing his guitar on its stand.

“What if you two try to contact the people who organized the fair and see if you can find the woman who sold me the…” God help him, “...the potion.”

“Yeah, alright. What are you going to do?” Josh was already pulling out his phone, not looking at Danny as he spoke.

“I��m going to see if maybe she posted that picture and contact her that way,” Daniel explained, having to shove Sam’s hips away from his own in order to get his phone from his back pocket.

“Sounds like a plan. But how about we don’t do this here,” Jake posited, his eyes sliding over to where their producer and mixer were watching raptly as Sammy placed yet another series of kisses onto Danny.

They all agreed. They wanted to spare both men as much embarrassment as possible and also minimize the possibility of this leaking and sending the wrong message to their fan base.

Daniel offered up his house considering it was the closest.

“And I’ll drive lovebug here, too.” Danny hooked his thumb towards where Sammy’s face was pressed into the side of Danny’s, a dopey smile on his face as he nuzzled deeper into Danny.

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Josh so helpfully pointed out, trying poorly to suppress a laugh.

“Yeah, ha ha. Let’s go,” Daniel sharply ordered, trying once more to rip Sam’s arms off of him and failing.

“No, no, wait. Let us get one video for blackmail,” Jake quickly requested, already having his phone out and pointed at the two.

Danny, knowing that there was no way they’d relent, groaned and let Jake record his misery.

“Alright, Sammy. Tell us how you feel about Daniel,” Jake prompted, the laugh in his voice barely contained. The youngest perked up at the question, his smile getting brighter.

“Well, where do I even begin! There’s so much I feel about him,” Sam cooed, resting his chin against Danny’s shoulder as he spoke. Danny felt Sam’s hair slip off his own shoulder as Sam tilted his head to get a better look at Danny.

“Why don’t you start with the physical,” Josh, that bastard, piped up. Danny shot him a glare, Josh only responding with an “innocent” smile.

“Oh! That’s easy! He’s got these beautiful dark eyes that you can easily get lost in. They’re this gorgeous shade of amber brown that have this nice green in them that remind me of moss in the forest. Oh! And when they catch the light just right they’re so bright and I get butterflies. And speaking of butterflies, when he smiles at me I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pass out from how beautifully warm and overwhelming it is-”

“Alright,” Danny squeaked out, his voice cracking as his face began to heat up, “that’s enough.”

“No, no, we’re just getting to the good part. Sam, what else about Danny do you like?” Danny bared his teeth at Jake. He knew it was ineffective, what, with his face burning as bright as a stop light.

“Oh, his arms are really nice. I love it when he picks me up because then I can feel them flexing and it makes me all dizzy.” Sam’s voice was dripping in honey. It was so sweet it made Danny’s stomach ache.

“Really? And what about his freckles?”

“One of his best features, definitely. They get all dark and prominent in the summer when he gets more sun. He’s got 137 of them!”

“Alright that’s-”

“And what about Danny’s personality?”

“He’s the sweetest guy ever! I swear, he’s so sweet he gives me cavities. Like this one time, I was feeling really down in the dumps and then Danny went out of his way to get me a case of my favorite beer and made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed myself. He just knows me sooooo well. And also he takes care of Rose the best and he is always so gentle and loving with her… what isn’t there to love?”

“Ok, show’s over. We’re done here,” Daniel firmly decided, reaching out to yank Jake’s phone away from him and end the recording, holding it out of Jake’s reach as he tried to grab it back from him.

Danny tossed it back at him when he was done, watching the guitarist nearly fumble the device to the ground. He shot Danny a confused look at his shift in mood, but he didn’t respond. He simply held onto Sam’s arms as he turned the two of them around and made for the door.

As they walked to the car, Daniel pointedly did not think about the fact that Sam apparently just seemed to know how many freckles Danny had off the top of his head. Or how that made his heart flutter within his chest.

+++

The car ride back was considerably less dangerous than the drive over; Sam hadn’t tried to climb into Danny’s lap since he preemptively laced their fingers together. However, Sammy hadn’t stopped talking. And it wasn’t his usual babbling, no. It was much worse.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The shock of it had worn off at the thirtieth time Sammy had confessed it to Danny, that first time making the drummer jump out of his skin. Now it was just getting annoying, like the beep of a smoke detector.

“You’re really hot,” Sam giggled, leaning his head across the consul and bumping it into Danny’s shoulder.

Danny just groaned, throwing his head into the headrest behind him and asking god what he did wrong to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment. It was one thing to toy with his destiny, it was another entirely to play around with his emotions.

“I hope we fucking crash,” he whined, the light turning green and taking his foot off the brake.

“I hope we fuck.”

Daniel felt his foot involuntarily slam down on the gas, forcing the both of them to jerk back in their seats as the engine loudly revved like an animal letting out a warning growl. Danny whipped his head over to Sam briefly, taking in his lashes batting flirtatiously and his wolfish grin. The driver felt his heart pounding in his chest, ripping his eyes away from his distracting passenger and forcing himself to look at the road.

“What?” he croaked out, not really wanting to hear it again but also wanting to know if he heard Sam right.

“You heard me,” was all Sam spoke in response, a dangerously flirtatious edge to his words that made Danny’s heart lurch in his chest.

“Just… Just keep those thoughts to yourself, ok?”

“Ok!” Sam cheerfully agreed, settling back down onto Danny’s shoulder. That was another thing about this that was driving Daniel slowly insane: Sam did almost everything Danny asked of him.

He was so, utterly fucked.

+++

“Ok, so Greta must be a popular name among artists or something because the fair organizer said there were about thirty booths registered under that name,” Jake explained after hanging up the phone. He tapped his pen on the pad of paper he’d been writing on idly, turned towards Danny’s spot on his couch. Sammy had tackled him onto it, curling up right against his chest like an oversized dog and refused to move.

“Did she give you the list of businesses, too?” Danny asked, having to crane his neck to look over at Jake.

“Yeah, and I was able to cross off a few of them already,” Jake answered, swiping away at his phone again.

“Nice work,” Danny praised, his eyes darting back to his phone. He and Josh had taken on scrolling through Danny’s instagram mentions in order to try and find the famed Greta. And, Jesus, people really loved tagging him in shit. They had been at it for hours and were still only finding posts from about two weeks ago.

“Is this her?” Josh hoisted his phone up into Danny’s field of view. Danny squinted as he analyzed the woman’s face.

“No,” he groaned, his frustration mounting as they had zero luck.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sam like this, it was just… It was too much. Yeah, maybe Danny had been dreaming about this exact scenario for years, but this wasn’t how he wanted to get it. He’d felt guilt slam into him with every touch Sam bestowed upon him as he remembered that Sam wasn’t in control of his actions. It was that stupid fucking potion that was making Sam all cuddly and cute; the normal Sam would never do that. The normal Sam wouldn’t repeatedly confess his love for Danny in a myriad of ways, or kiss his neck and cheeks, or cling to him every second of the day. No matter how badly Danny wanted it to be true, Sam just wasn’t in love with Danny like the drummer was in love with the bassist.

And that was the time that Sam decided to stir just enough to burrow deeper into his embrace with Daniel, grumbling something under his breath that was reminiscent of a cat purring. And just like it never happened, Sam fell back asleep again. Danny watched for a bit too long as Sam’s chest rose and fell with each even breath he took, his face held in a content smile as he dreamed away.

“Man, I haven’t seen him curled up with someone like that since we were kids,” Josh commented, taking a break from his endless scrolling to crack his neck and stretch. He had watched the whole thing, Sam’s stirring and Daniel’s flush creeping onto his face as he gazed down at the cozy bass player.

“What do you mean?” Danny had moved his own phone out of the way to properly look at Josh. The man had taken to sitting on the floor with his back against the couch that Sam and Danny were laying on.

“The last time he looked that content while sleeping was probably when he was about eight-ish; that was when he stopped taking naps with mom,” the singer explained, his eyes cast upwards as if searching the farthest reaches of his mind.

“What, are you calling me his mother?” Daniel felt his face pinch into one of disgust as he remembered what Sam had sprung on him during the ride over.

“No, what he’s saying is Sam has always liked to cuddle, but only feels comfortable doing it with certain people,” Jake clarified, not even bothering to look up from his notepad.

“Yeah, he’s never done that with us. And, now that I think about it, he’s never done that with his girlfriends, either. At least, from what I’ve seen, anyway,” Josh added, rambling just a tad at the end. He even brought his hand up to his chin as he thought, his fingers stroking the hair on it absently.

Daniel had no idea what to do with that particular bit of information, so he elected to shove it into his mental box labeled “The Sam Incident” to be ignored until further notice. It was starting to become alarmingly full.

He went back to his scrolling, his eyes beginning to burn with how long he’d been staring at the screen. He wasn’t aware that he’d taken to running his fingers through Sam’s hair and absently playing with it as he focused on finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Right when he was about to take a break and grab something to eat, he spotted her.

“AHA!” he exclaimed, bolting upright and rudely jolting Sam out of his peaceful slumber. The bassist even grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and shooting a grumpy look at his personal pillow for the violent awakening. Danny felt the sympathy ache in his chest for Sam, rubbing a soothing and apologetic hand over Sam’s arm. Though, with how frizzy and staticky his hair looked, Daniel had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Sam.

“You found her?” the twins asked simultaneously, Danny feeling briefly like he was in The Shining as they both gave him the same expression as he looked between them.

Daniel nodded his head, turning his phone around to show the others. Sam took the opportunity to sleepily and unceremoniously flop himself down against the drummer’s chest face first, wrapping his arms around his waist. Danny instinctively placed his hand onto his back to steady him, rubbing it as Sam mumbled something into his chest that Danny could not understand.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Jake, ever the impatient one, urged Daniel. He pushed away from the table he was stationed at, making his way over to lean over the back of the couch to watch the drummer’s screen.

danielrwagner: Hey, so uhhh

danielrwagner: This is going to be a strange question but

danielrwagner: Are you the woman who gave me a vial at an art show a month or so back?

Daniel had set his phone down onto the couch, figuring he’d have to wait a while for a response - if he ever got one, that is. What he didn’t expect was for his phone to buzz almost immediately afterwards.

StarshineGreta: Hi Danny!

StarshineGreta: Yes, that was me

StarshineGreta: Why did someone drink it?

danielrwagner: Yeah

StarshineGreta: Who was it?

Daniel swallowed nervously, glancing down at Sammy who was still wedged into his chest and showing no signs that he was moving anytime soon.

danielrwagner: …Sam

Call from StarshineGreta

“Guys, what should I do?” Daniel panicked, his heart rate kicking up in speed inside his chest as his ringtone started to cheerfully chirp in his hand. He frantically looked back and forth between the twins, looking for their help.

“Answer it!” Josh screeched, his thunderous voice that Daniel normally heard echoing through stadium speakers just as loud and commanding in his living room.

With a nervous bite of his lip, Danny did as he was told.

“Hey, Greta. Just so you know, you're on speaker with… with the whole band,” Daniel greeted, making sure to give her the courtesy of knowing that everyone could hear her. But, it seemed that she didn’t even register what he had said. Instead, she launched right into it.

“Alright, how long ago did he drink it and what are his symptoms?” Her voice was nearly clinical if it weren’t for the clear enthusiasm dripping off her words.

“He drank it at about ten this morning-”

“And he’s acting like a lovesick puppy and won’t leave Daniel alone,” Josh interjected, leaning over so that he was closer to the phone to be heard. Though that wasn’t really necessary since the man had shouted, anyway.

“Yeah, Sam won’t stop touching and cuddling him and if he tells him to quit it he gets all mopey and sad,” Jake added, flashing Danny a grin that Daniel merely glared at. She really didn’t need to know all that.

The beat of silence that followed made Danny’s nerves spike into the stratosphere. What he didn’t know was that Greta had merely muted her own mic so that she could laugh as boisterously as she wanted to without being heard.

“Interesting. And how much did he drink?”

“Pretty much the whole thing. There’s about an eighth or so left in the bottle, I’d guess,” Daniel informed, feeling as if the vial in his pocket got heavier as he thought about it.

“Wow. Ok, wow. No wonder he’s so clingy,” Greta replied, her surprise seeping into her tone.

“I wouldn’t call him that-”

“Dan. Try standing up.”

Giving Jake a disgruntled look, Daniel tried exactly as suggested. As he did, Sam’s arms tightened around Sam and pulled him back down towards him. “Nooooooooo,” he had whined out in protest, his brow knitting together in a grumpy frown once more as he looked up at Danny through his lashes.

“No,” he said again, this time more firm and accented by Sam’s grip readjusting around Danny’s ribs to pull himself even tighter against Danny’s chest.

When Daniel looked over at the younger twin, he was met with a small yet smug smile of victory.

“Shut up,” he lamely shot back, wanting to cross his arms over his chest but being prevented by a certain bass player. Instead, he just settled his free arm back onto Sam’s back right below where his hair stopped in the middle of his spine.

“Is it a problem that he drank so much?” Josh asked, completely ignoring the exchange that happened between Jake and Daniel.

“Not really, no. The effects will just be stronger than if he had just drank the recommended amount,” Greta explained.

“Will it last longer?” Daniel quickly interjected, the horrifying thought of having to deal with Sam acting like this for a month causing panic to lance through his heart.

“I don’t think so. Maybe a few extra hours, but it should be worn off by tomorrow evening.”

“And how come your potion actually works? Like, why isn’t yours bullshit like the other ‘love potions’ out there?” Jake so delicately questioned.

“Normally, most of mine are but… well…” Daniel did not like how her tone shifted from confident to apprehensive, “I won’t sugar coat it. The potions I make are meant to amplify what emotions are already inside someone. They can’t manufacture love or hate or happiness if they don’t already exist in the person who drank it.”

After she finished her explanation, the room went silent. Daniel felt as if his mind was beginning to overheat inside his skull as he tried to process the information she had just dropped onto them.

“I don’t get it,” Daniel croaked out, feeling as if his mind was halting all function as he stared blankly down at his phone.

“Do you have that potion on you?” Greta’s voice wasn’t scheming, per say, but it was clear she had a plan.

Daniel dug into his front pocket, fishing out the aforementioned vial. He held it up into the air, looking at it and wondering how something so unassuming could flip his world on its axis.

Before the drummer could even respond to Greta, Jake had swiped it out of his hand so quickly Danny could only blink dumbly at the man.

“Josh!” he called before tossing it towards the man.

“Wait-” was all Daniel could get out before the singer had uncapped the vial and tossed it back like it was a shot.

“Ooh, bubblegum flavored,” Josh cooed after he swallowed, flipping the vial in his hand after he replaced the cap.

Daniel just sat frozen in place. Great, now he was going to have to deal with two Kiszkas attached to his hip at all times and he wasn’t going to be able to do anything-

“How ya feeling, Josh?” Jake had asked in a voice reminiscent of a gameshow host from the 70s.

“Honestly, Jake, I feel no different. Daniel, I love you, man, but not like that,” Josh answered, pointing at his little brother curled up into Danny’s chest like an overgrown cat to prove his point.

“So, that means…” Jake prompted, holding out his hand as if to cue Daniel to understand. It didn’t work.

“I still don’t get it. And now I’ll have two of you on top of me-”

“Oh my god,” Josh impatiently groaned, tossing his head back in frustration as he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Jesus, you’re dumb, Dan,” Jake added, exasperation of his own causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head.

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually,” Greta optimistically offered, her voice cutting through the groaning from the twins.

“But, wait, what should I do? Is there anything I can do to help Sam? Or, like, cure him?” Danny inquired, electing to ignore the twins and their antics.

“You’re just going to have to wait it out,” Greta answered, her voice not even remotely sympathetic to Danny’s plight.

“Thanks for the insight, Greta.” Jake leaned in towards the phone again, giving it a two fingered salute.

“Yeah, and thank you for the free blackmail!” Josh was smiling as he waved at the phone, his tone chipper and not at all matching the devious words he spoke.

“Any time, boys!”

And with that, the call had ended.

“Well, we best get going,” Josh sighed as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head.

“Yep. Seems like you and Sam need some time to yourselves.” Jake had playfully nudged his baby brother on the shoulder with his hand, Sam only responding with a half-hearted grunt of annoyance at being jostled.

“Wait, hold on-”

“Goodbye, lovebirds!”

With a slam of the door that carried with it a sense of finality, Daniel was left alone with a love-drugged Sam. In his house. Alone.

“I thought they’d never leave,” Sam yawned, mimicking his older brother from earlier as he stretched his arms above his head, his face pinching together as he did so. Daniel pointedly did not look at the sliver of tan skin the bassist exposed above his waistband as he stretched, a playful teasing of his happy trail poking out briefly.

“Uh, what?”

“The twins! I thought they wouldn’t take the hint,” Sam playfully implied, his hands tracing up from their perch on Daniel’s stomach to his pecs. And that was when he realized that Sammy was straddling his hips and looming above him with a look in his eye and a smirk on his lips that was anything but innocent.

Danny was stuck in his position on the couch, feeling like those butterflies they displayed in glass with those pins that pierced through their wings stabbing through his own limbs. He felt frozen, caught between his own animalistic desire and his morality; the angel and devil on his shoulders waging a war.

“Are you hungry?” Daniel squeaked out, his voice breaking as he shoved Sam off of him and bolted off the couch. He felt like his face was on fire as the rest of his skin prickled with its own heat. He stood himself on the opposite side of the room, all but pressing his back to the wall. He didn’t care what that witch or the twins said; Sammy would never do that.

He’s not himself.

Once Sam recovered from Danny tossing him into the couch, Sam turned those sultry eyes back onto the drummer. “Yeah. For you.”

Daniel gulped. Sam’s voice had purred out of his lips, matching the very clear bedroom eyes he was shooting Daniel. And Danny was not liking how his body was reacting to that.

“I’ll order sushi,” Daniel quickly stated before bolting out of the room and away from Sam as fast as he could.

+++

Dinner was an ordeal. Daniel had to essentially manipulate Sammy into eating, which made him feel like garbage. But, he tried to reassure himself by saying it was for Sam’s own good. And if Danny had to use his powers of suggestion over Sam to do it, then it was just a means to an end. To be fair, it wasn’t like he was forcing Sam to do something like make out with Danny or anything like that. It was just getting him to eat his goddamn sushi.

It also didn’t help that Sam had scooched his chair right up beside Danny’s and would move closer to him each time Danny had tried to move away. And then Sam had tried to feed Danny his food. Which was… an experience.

“C’moooooooooon Danny! It’ll be cute like Lady and the Tramp!” Sam whined, waving his chopsticks in the air.

Daniel, knowing his willpower against Sam was weakening, relented. He huffed out a “fine” and half-heartedly opened his mouth. Sam squealed excitedly before gently picking up a roll with his chopsticks and placing it between Danny’s lips. Daniel figured the pain of Sam’s nagging was worth the pleasure of seeing his brilliantly excited smile as Daniel chewed his sushi.

“Ok, ok, now me!” Sam exclaimed, setting down his chopsticks before opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue like he was about to get his tonsils checked.

With an exasperated yet fond sigh, Daniel selected a sushi roll and brought it up to Sam, cupping a hand underneath it to catch it if it fell. As he placed the sushi on Sam’s tongue, Daniel made the mistake of looking his friend in the eyes. When he did, his breath hitched inside his throat. Daniel could feel as the air around them crackled with a charged energy that sparked to life as their gazes met. And Daniel felt himself unable to tear his eyes away from Sam as he slowly pulled his chopsticks away.

When Sam slipped the food into his mouth and began to chew, that was when Daniel was able to look away.

That was a few hours ago. The two of them were once again cuddled up on Danny’s couch, Sam trying his absolute best to get every part of his body touching every part of Daniel’s. They had thrown on a crime procedural show; Bones or Law & Order, Daniel didn’t know. He was far too distracted by how Sam kept attempting to get Danny to kiss him or let him blow him or an assortment of other things that made his face glow bright red.

He’s not in his right mind, Daniel had to keep reminding himself. And he would not break to love-drugged Sam no matter how many times he would flash Danny those puppy eyes that would normally make him fold like a house of cards under a slight breeze.

“Daaaaaaaanyyyyyyyyyy,” Sam sang, wiggling himself onto Danny’s lap in order to plant himself right in front of Daniel’s field of view. He would no longer be ignored, despite the fact that Sam had always had Danny’s full attention; he just was acting as though he hadn’t.

“Sam, I’m trying to watch this,” Daniel weakly protested. He had no idea what the plot of the episode was, much less the actual name of the show.

“Watch me instead,” Sam whined, his shoulders slouching as he theatrically threw his head back in frustration, “you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“That’s not true-”

“It’s like you don’t love me.” And that was what finally caused Daniel to break his facade. He looked Sam right in the eyes, taking in the pout of his lips and the dejected nature of his eyes. Daniel isn’t ashamed to admit that he felt his chest ache at the sight. There was genuine heartbreak in Sammy’s eyes that did nothing to quell the guilt that had been thrumming through Daniel’s veins all day.

Sam could not have been further from the truth, really. Daniel did love Sam. Like, embarrassingly so. He felt it swelling in his chest every second that he spent with Sam, even when he wasn’t with him. Actually, that was when he felt it the most, when Sam wasn’t with him. Those were the moments when he found himself wishing for the man to be near, feeling his heart long for his calming and wonderful presence.

But, he knew Sam didn’t feel that way about Daniel. Danny knew Sam the best out of everyone on earth; he’d be able to tell who Sam was in love with. It wasn’t Daniel.

“That-That’s not…” Danny didn’t know how to answer that. He really didn’t. He had no idea if Sam would remember anything from this after the potion wore off. He really did not want to risk the most precious thing in his life.

Instead, Daniel just gently lowered Sam’s head down into the crook of his neck, wrapping his arms around Sam in order to pull him as tightly against his chest as he could. If he couldn’t say it, he’d show it.

Sam calmed down after that, apparently perfectly content to just exist inside of Danny’s personal space. It wasn’t long after that Daniel felt drowsiness creep up on him. Despite not doing much moving around considering the human ball and chain known as Samuel Kiszka was attached to him all day prevented that, he was still exhausted. Emotionally, that is. Who knew having the love of your life falsely confessing his love for you would be so draining? Danny sure didn’t.

“Alright,” Danny yawned, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv, “time for bed.”

“Carry me,” Sam murmured, already half asleep against Danny.

“Sam…” Daniel protested with a sigh, knowing that he was going to anyway but hoping Sam would change his mind.

“Please, baby,” the bassist whined, moving his head so that one eye poked out from his curtain of hair to give Danny that wretched Puppy Look.

Like the whipped man that he was, Danny just sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. After shuffling around Sam’s limbs to better fit around Danny as he stood, Daniel walked the two of them up to his bedroom. Danny decidedly did not think about what this would look like to an outsider.

“When did you get so heavy,” Danny grunted halfway up the stairs.

“It’s not nice to comment on a lady’s weight,” Sam shot back, his face still completely nuzzled into Danny’s neck. The breath of his words made Daniel have to suppress a shiver.

“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.”

Sam giggled, the vibrant and gorgeous sound making Danny’s heart soar.

Jesus, he was so doomed.

+++

It had taken some master level bargaining on Daniel’s part, but he was able to convince Sam to leave him alone long enough so that they could each finish their nighttime routines. Daniel had just loaned Sam a pair of his sleep shorts and a shirt to use as pajamas; the shorts were just a bit too big on Sam and caused the waistband to sit dangerously low on his hips. Daniel found himself having to force his eyes to focus on anything other than that sliver of skin on Sam’s abdomen, which was an incredibly hard task.

Daniel was far from surprised when Sam had climbed into the bed next to him and proceeded to wrap all of his limbs around Danny. It was like the man had managed to find the exact places where he would fit perfectly against Danny like he was meant to be there. Frankly, it was driving Daniel mad.

“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” Sam hummed directly into the drummer’s ear, able to feel the vibrations in his best friend’s chest that was pressed into his side.

The question made Danny sigh. He knew what would happen if he said no.

“You’re going to keep going until I snap or give in, won’t you?” Daniel addressed the ceiling, unsure if he was speaking to Sam or god at this point.

“Yep,” Sam replied, popping the P in the word. Daniel could hear the mischievous smile in his words.

Now, it was just a matter of weighing Daniel’s conscience against his desire to get some goddamn rest. And, well, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss Sam. But, once again, not like this. But… well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before. It happened a few years ago when they were both drunk; the both of them had laughed it off afterwards, but neither of them spoke of it again. Danny was sure that if he had explained to Sam that he was only doing it to get him to relent so that he could sleep, Sam would understand. Hell, this would be far from the first time Danny had done something Sam had asked of him to get him to shut up so he could sleep.

“Fine,” Daniel had begrudgingly agreed, the word sighed out. But, before he could tell Sam that he was only going to get a quick peck and nothing else, Sam had pounced.

Danny’s cries of protest had been drowned out by the press of Sam’s unfairly soft lips, his facial hair not an unpleasant bristle against his skin. But, no matter how good it felt, Danny couldn’t allow this to continue. There was just one small problem: Sam had managed to snake his hands from where they had wrapped around Danny’s torso to his head. He felt those lithe fingers weave their way into his curls, locking him in place like a boa constrictor did with their prey. No matter how… how hot that was, Daniel was the one in his right mind. He was the one responsible for his own action, so that meant he had to… to… oh, dear lord, Sam’s tongue was soft; feeling like the finest velvet money could buy. It beckoned Daniel’s own tongue, gently pleading with it to slip inside Sam’s mouth. And, truly, who was Danny to argue? And, god forgive him, Sam’s mouth was so warm and inviting, it should be a sin.

Daniel blames his fixation on Sam’s mouth for the reason he failed to notice just how long their kiss had lasted. What finally broke him out of his trance was when Sam’s thigh slipped its way between Daniel’s own, brushing against his interested dick and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips.

Fighting against Sam’s, admittedly strong, grip on his hair, Daniel pulled away from Sam. He made sure to physically push away Sam’s thigh from its spot between Danny’s legs, knowing that should have been his first act. He was out of breath; another indicator for just how he had failed to be responsible. And looking into Sam’s confused and hurt eyes did nothing to help the guilt mushrooming within his chest.

“You’ll thank me later,” Daniel explained, even sounding out of breath as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Sam as the love-drugged man would allow. Or you’ll hate me later.

“But what about here and now?” Sam whined, closing the precious distance Danny had built up.

“You got what you wanted-” and fucking then some, “-just go to sleep.”

“Daaaaaaaan-”

“Go to sleep, Sam.” Daniel snapped, immediately regretting his tone as soon as he saw the genuine hurt in those amber eyes.

With a scowl, Sam settled down into the sheets. What hurt the most, though, was when Sam had retracted all of his limbs from where they intertwined with Daniel’s, flipping on his side to face away from his best friend. Despite having wished for it all day, Danny had no idea it would hurt so fucking much.

Even though he wanted to so fucking badly, Daniel did not reconcile the situation. It was for the best, he had to tell himself. This way, Daniel would be able to actually sleep and Sam wouldn’t be as weirded out towards Danny when he inevitably snapped out of this spell.

It was for the best.

Then why does it feel so wrong?

+++

Daniel had gotten no sleep.

Despite how much he tried, it seemed that every time he closed his eyes he was met by the image of Sammy’s disappointed face. He knew, deep down, that it was the right thing for him to do, to push Sam away like that. But that really was a thin comfort when the hurt in Sam’s eyes before he disentangled himself from Danny was still playing on loop in his head. Isn’t that what he had been trying to avoid this whole time? Hurting Sam? And, somehow, he had managed to do just that. It was frustrating and exhausting and Danny just wanted to get some fucking sleep.

Through the night, however, Sam had managed to intertwine himself once more with Danny. It felt like a hollow victory. And when he eventually, slowly, woke up, Sam had seemed to be completely over their spat from the night prior.

He had simply stretched his arms over his head, his hair a mess of tangles and static, and asked Daniel about breakfast. How Danny had wished that he could just brush off what happened the night prior.

The rest of the day had happened much like the day before; Sam refusing to let Danny stray too far from his touch. It had been inconvenient as Danny tried to go about his day with another person attached to him at the hip. However, he was able to adapt by lunch time. Sammy was still whispering things in his ear that made his blood simmer in his veins and did nothing to suppress his guilt at what images and scenarios his brain supplied him with.

Daniel had resigned himself to the fact that his day now would revolve around Sam entirely. He had wanted to go to the grocery store to restock his fridge that was becoming barren, but he knew there was the possibility that someone would recognize the two of them and their… compromising position.

So, instead of going out and being productive like he had wanted to, he sequestered the two of them to his house. They settled on a Harry Potter marathon, Daniel once again unable to focus on the screen whatsoever with Sam pawing at him continuously. Daniel had ordered food and plopped the two of them on the couch.

By the fourth movie, Sam had fallen asleep in Danny’s lap. Daniel, now with those doe eyes off of him, felt that he was finally able to end his guise of watching the screen. It had reached the late afternoon, that golden light sun streaming in through the windows of his living room and highlighting the lazy dust mites floating in the air. Most devastatingly, however, was how that sun had focused on Sammy’s profile. The man looked angelic, ethereal in a way that should not be feasible for a mortal. His hair glowed a golden hue, making it look like a halo was crowned onto his head. It made Danny’s heart ache within his chest.

Daniel had been so distracted by how gorgeous his best friend looked that he failed to really notice that Sammy was beginning to wake up.

“Daniel?” Sam’s voice was gravelly again. Danny felt his eyes focus on Sam’s, snapping him back into his own mind.

“Sam?”

“Wh… What happened?” Sam had lifted himself off of Danny’s chest, sliding a hand from where it rested on the small of Danny’s back to grab at his head. He blinked rapidly, sweeping his eyes around the room as if it was foreign to him with a grimace on his face.

“How much do you remember?”

There was a pause before Sam responded, his eyes sliding their focus in on Danny’s. “Remember? Dan, I’m not missing any time.”

And if that didn’t make Daniel’s blood run cold.

“So… So…” Danny couldn’t spit it out. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t say that Sam knew everything. That would make it real.

“So… what happened?” Sam prompted again, seeming to be more lucid with each passing second.

Danny involuntarily gulped, feeling a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t that hard to say what happened; he already told the twins. So why the hell was it so difficult to look Sam in the eye.

“You… You remember that vial from my jacket that you drank?”

“Mhm, tasted like bubblegum.”

“...Yeah. Well, that uhh…”

Oh, for fucks sake! Just say it!

“It was a love potion,” Daniel rushed out, the words all mushing together to sound like one long word.

Another beat of silence passed between the two, Sam staring down at Daniel from his perch in his lap and Daniel looking everywhere he could that wasn’t Sam’s eyes. He really wished Sam would move, it would at least help the raging blush on his cheeks. At least slightly.

“Oh, sick!!”

Finally, Daniel looked Sam in the eye. Of all the ways he had forecasted that Sam would react to that information, enthusiasm and whimsy was not even on the list. He had expected Sam to get awkward, to politely remove himself from Danny’s touch and make an exit as quickly as possible. He had far from expected Sam to link his hands behind Danny’s neck and eagerly inquire about the potion.

“Dude, that’s so cool! You know what this means, don’t you??”

“...No?”

“Magic is real! And we just proved it!!” Sam’s smile was huge, bright enough to outshine the sun.

“Sam-”

“So, like, how does it actually work? Like, I remember that conversation we had with the witch about it only affecting those who already are in love, or whatever, but did she say the actual mechanics of how it worked? Like, is there a special ingredient that it needs to work?” Sam reminded Danny of a puppy in that moment. His eyes were bright and full of enthusiasm, his entire body buzzing with an energy that made it impossible for him to sit still.

This time, it was Daniel who failed to give a timely response. His mind was too busy reeling over what Sam had glossed over during his rambling to properly process the man’s question. Realizing that the reason Sam was looking at him so expectantly was due to him waiting on the drummer, Danny shook his head to force it to work.

“H-Hold on,” he began, taking a hand that had rested on Sam’s waist and bringing it up to his forehead, “you… you remember that conversation?? You were asleep!!”

Danny hadn’t meant for his voice to come out like a screech, however he was just so damn confused that he really couldn’t focus the brain power on proper speech etiquette.

“What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to knit his brow in confusion. “Oh, yeah! No, I was just faking it. It’s an old trick I pull out sometimes to get out of work; I started doing it so that Jake, Josh, and Ronnie were stuck doing chores instead of me.”

Daniel felt like he was losing his mind. How was Sam so goddamn chipper about this??

“Ok. Ok. Oh my god.” Daniel forced himself to take a breath. It felt as if his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet and his brain was struggling to keep up with the rapidly shifting terrain.

“So, you remember that whole conversation.” It wasn’t a question, though Danny had intended it to be.

“Yep!” Danny felt a piece of his soul die at the chipper tone Sam used. He elected to ignore it.

“And… that means you understand how it actually works…”

“Apparently better than you did, Danny Boy,” Sam snarked, a playful grin that bordered on flirtatious spreading across his lips.

Danny could only stare incredulously at Sam.

“And you’re ok with it??”

“...Yeah,” Sam answered slowly, “I already knew I was in love with you.”

And that, right there, was how Daniel Wagner died. In retrospect, he had a good go of it. He was able to follow his dreams, be a rockstar. If he had to pick one, he’d say his one regret in life was ever befriending Samuel fucking Kiszka. It would have saved his life, after all.

“Danny?”

Sammy’s voice snapped him out of his cardiac arrest, pulling him back to the present.

“Y-You… You…” Once again, Daniel felt like his brain was melting out of his head and pouring out of his ears. This can’t be real. Like, it just can’t. “You already… me??”

“Yeah…” Sammy was looking at him strangely, as if Danny were the one acting weird.

“You realize what you just told me, right??”

“I don’t understand why you’re acting so surprised. You already knew this.”

Danny tried to follow Sam’s logic in his head, he really did. He was still under the spell. He had to be. It was the only way Sam’s behavior made any sense to him.

“Sam… you were drugged, ok? I don’t know exactly how, but those… your… actions were not your own,” Danny tried to explain, careful and gentle as possible.

Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off inside Sam’s head. Daniel felt relief hit him; finally Sam got it. They could move past this and save their friendship.

“Daniel, look at me,” Sammy slid his hands from behind Daniel’s neck to rest them on the sides of his face, positioning it so that Danny had to look at him, “I am not under any spell right now. I am in my sane mind, do you get me?”

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off before he had the ability to protest.

“I am so fucking in love with you. Like, so fucking in love it’s probably illegal. And that was why the potion worked. Because I am in love with you. If I wasn’t, it wouldn’t have worked at all… do you understand what I am telling you in very clear, not-able-to-be-misinterpreted words?” Sam had said every sentence slowly and with a gravity to it that left no room for debate. They were spoken as fact; as law. Just how energy cannot be created nor destroyed, Sam Kiszka was in love with Daniel Wagner.

Yet Daniel still had a hard time grasping the concept.

“But… all that… that cuddling and-and kissing and all that… you’ve never acted that way before,” Daniel reasoned, believing this to be the work of the potion and hard evidence to support that belief.

Sam just laughed, the noise warming up the ice that had frozen in Danny’s veins.

“I always wanna kiss you, Daniel. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because I didn’t think you wanted me that way. And before you try and say it was the potion forcing me, it just never occurred to me to not act upon my feelings.”

Danny was still apprehensive, unable to fully grapple with the concept that Sam wanted to kiss him at all times. But, he was beginning to see what everyone had been telling him the past 24 hours.

“...Prove it.”

With nothing but a quick “ok” spoken under his breath, Sam wasted no time launching forward and locking his lips with Danny’s. His hands slid from Danny’s cheeks to the back of his head, manipulating it so that Sam could tip it back and deepen the kiss. Once again, Danny felt dizzy. But, unlike the other kiss the two of them shared last night, this one was quick and urgent. Sam had something to prove and he was not about to let Daniel walk away from this without getting his point through Danny’s thick skull.

It was Sam who eventually pulled away, having to gasp for air.

“Holy shit,” Danny panted, his head feeling woozy as he took in the sight of his best friend looking absolutely ruined, yet giddy just from his lips.

“Yeah,” Sam breathed in response, his smile turning dopey as he laughed.

“You… You love me…”

Danny watched in real time the excitement and shock that flooded Sam’s eyes.

“Oh, thank fucking god,” Sam quickly uttered, throwing his head back, “YOU FINALLY GET IT!” Sam had taken to shaking Danny by the shoulders.

“That’s actually great news because I’m also in love with you,” Daniel admitted, a giddiness of his own flooding his veins at finally being able to say those words out loud to Sam.

“I would fucking hope so, you dense idiot.” There was no malice in Sam’s words. Quite the opposite, really. He had leaned back down onto Danny’s chest, burying his face into Danny’s neck as they embraced.

“Wait… when did you-”

“Truthfully? When we graduated.”

Daniel started to process what that meant. Since we graduated…

“YOU MEAN WE ACTUALLY COULD’VE FUCKED THIS WHOLE TIME??”

+++

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#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #danny gvf #sammy gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #samuel kiszka x daniel wagner #sanny gvf #sam x danny #greta van fluff

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