#and when i tell you all the background noise went silent

[kabsey]

Unpacking his sparse collection of spare clothing required very little of Lucanis's attention, but he kept his mind focused on the motions of his hands as he drew a shirt from his bag, carefully refolded it, and added it to the small stack on the bed. He had bought all of the clothes—as well as the bag itself—in a rushed shopping trip before joining the team at the Lighthouse. He had no doubt the contents of his flat were somewhere in the villa, returned to his grandmother upon his supposed death, but the thought of the entirety of his adult life stacked in piles and covered with dusty drop cloths made him feel like the phantom of some long-dead Dellamorte ancestor resurrected from the ether.

Spite paced around the room and grumbled to himself with the occasional discontented aside thrown at Lucanis. He had not wanted to leave the Lighthouse. Lucanis could sympathize, but as he'd reminded Spite, all of their friends had responsibilities to get back to; even if they'd stayed, they would have found themselves frequently alone. Spite had argued that an empty Lighthouse still sounded better than a return to the villa (and Lucanis could not entirely disagree), but the agreed-upon weekly dinner with the team and the promise of frequent messages and visits to and from Emmrich and Manfred had mollified him. Lucanis doubted even that would have been enough if not for the fact that Rook was also returning to Treviso and would be just across the city in Viago's townhouse.

The background noise of Spite's monologue of complaints went silent suddenly, and Lucanis glanced up to see him baring his teeth at the open doorway.

"You know," Illario drawled from a lazy lean against the doorframe, "I remember hearing Caterina suggest that you take the master suite."

He sauntered into the room with precise and steady movements. Only a fellow Crow who had known him his whole life would see the slightly rounded posture that meant he was well into his cups. He ran a fingertip along one of the bed posts as if checking for dust and then made a show of wiping an imaginary smudge from his fingers.

"I wonder what she will say when she finds you have taken up residence in your old room instead."

Lucanis went back to his unpacking. "Where I sleep is not her business."

Illario barked a short laugh. "If you think anything that happens under this roof is not Caterina's business, you really have been gone a long time."

"Yes," Lucanis agreed with a pointed glare. "I have."

Illario didn't flinch or look chagrined, except for a slight downward twitch of his lips and how quickly he looked away. "So tell me, cousin: why have you chosen to sleep in your childhood bedroom instead of the master suite as suggested?"

"I don't need that much space," Lucanis replied. "Cleaning it all would be a waste of the servants' time."

"Practicality. Of course. You and Caterina do so excel at that." As he slouched against the bed post, Illario looked up at the crows in their branches painted on the ceiling.

Lucanis sighed. "Should I have another reason?"

"Oh, no. What other reason could there be?" Illario rolled his head to the side to meet his gaze again. "What man doesn't dream of moving into his dead parents' bedroom?"

His gaze flicked down to Lucanis's hands. "Careful. That's silk."

With a deep inhale, Lucanis forced his fingers to release their choking grip on the shirt in his hands. He carefully smoothed out the creases before adding it to the pile on the bed.

"What do you want, Illario?"

"Just wondering when your little Rook is coming to roost in our nest instead of de Riva's. My room shares a wall with this one, and I need to know if I should invest in ear plugs."

Spite had maintained an inhumanely long glare at Illario throughout the conversation, but at that, he blinked and looked at Lucanis. "Ear plugs?"

Lucanis just shook his head at him a little, but Illario caught the motion and straightened from his slouch to an alert stillness.

"It's here, isn't it?"

"Of course he's here. Where I am, he is."

"Wonderful," Illario sneered. "So we're going to have two additions to the household. I didn't think that would happen until Rook started popping out your demonspawn."

Spite's fury drowned Lucanis in a sudden surge, and the undertow dragged him under. He watched helplessly through a violet haze as his own hands grabbed Illario by the throat. Spite used his wings to fly across the room and slam Illario into the stone wall as Lucanis thrashed and Illario flailed, both trying to break the demon's grip.

Spite snapped his teeth in Illario's reddening face, and an echo of the Fade reverberated in his howl.

"You will not! Put a demon! IN ROOK!"

Spite had not taken over so completely without permission since Zara's death, and no matter what he tried, Lucanis could not regain control of his hands. In desperation, he scrambled for any sliver of control, no matter how small, and he found his voice.

"Spite! Stop! He didn't mean it like that!"

"He said! A demon! Would pop out! Of Rook!" Beneath the rage, Lucanis could feel the terror and revulsion that such an image induced in both of them.

"He didn't mean an actual demon!" Above Spite's hands, Illario's eyes bulged and his lips were turning purple. "He meant a baby!"

"Baby?"

Spite's momentary confusion gave Lucanis the crack of an opening he needed to release Illario. His cousin slid to the ground, choking and coughing, and Lucanis staggered back several steps before dropping to his knees. He gulped down air with almost as much urgency as Illario, his hold on Spite threadbare and strained.

"Why would? A baby? Come out? Of Rook?" Spite demanded.

"Mierda," Lucanis gasped. He felt near to hysteria and didn't know if it would come out as a laugh or a sob. "I promise I will explain later. But Illario was not threatening Rook. I swear."

"He better not," Spite muttered, and he separated from Lucanis to continue his baleful sulking from the corner.

Illario gaped at Lucanis from the floor, his eyes wide and the hand at his throat trembling.

"Maker," he rasped. "It will kill us all."

"No," Lucanis snapped. "He won't."

He stalked over to his cousin and lifted him to his feet with two fists curled in his shirt. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to slam Illario into the wall himself.

"Do you have any idea what we saw down there?" he spat. "How many people we saw split apart like overripe fruit as a demon clawed its way out?"

He shook Illario as his cousin continued to stare at him. "You will watch what you say, you will not threaten or attempt to harm anyone I care about, and you will never speak about or to Rook with anything but respect. Do you understand, cousin?"

Illario said nothing, and Lucanis released him with a small shove and a snarl of disgust. "Get out."

With shaky steps, Illario made his way to the door. He paused on the threshold, and Lucanis braced himself for whatever snide remark his cousin was about to throw at him.

Instead Illario looked back at him, serious and solemn. "I thought you were dead. I would never have wanted... that... for you."

Lucanis sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "I know. But it happened, and I have to live with the aftermath." He dropped his hands to shoot Illario a rueful smirk. "And now so do you. So I suggest you work on your manners."

Illario's blue eyes narrowed just a fraction, but he wisely stayed quiet and walked away without further comment. A wave of weariness washed over Lucanis, and he went back to the bed and sat on the end.

"I miss Rook," Spite growled.

Lucanis nodded. "Me too."

[cinaminrolll]

BRO BRO GET DENJI OUT OF THERE!! THIS IS NOT OKAY!!

…i feel sick, just sick

[cowboysandcigarettes]

show me who you are ─

the mark of cain weighs heavily on dean's shoulders, affecting all of you. when the bloodlust becomes too much, you know you have to help him. in the only way you can think of.

cw ─ slight angst, mark of cain!dean, very slight mention of sa/non-con (not from dean), blood, gore, canon-typical violence, smut!, fem! reader, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected p in v, sorry if i miss anything else!

☆ 💿PORNSTAR - nessa barrett

i wanna hear you talking dirty,

i wanna see it on your face.

⭒

it was getting worse, you could all see it. you, sam, cas - hell, even crowley could see it. the mark was slowly killing dean, and it was only getting worse.

it wasn't as obvious at first, just small outbursts here and there, but surely enough, it became more obvious. he was more snappy than usual, spent more time alone, and he would zone out more, hands either clenched into fists or one was clasped tightly over the mark on his forearm.

you didn't bring it up to him, that was the silent agreement that you, sam and cas had come up with, and you obliged to it. so you didn't tell dean how the far away look in his eyes made your brow furrow and your stomach churn with worry, or how your heart broke every night when you could hear him wake himself up from his nightmares. you didn't tell him how seeing him struggle, and refuse help, was slowly but surely breaking you down, and you definitely didn't tell dean that you missed him.

sure, he was right there, just down the hall from you, close enough that you could hear him in the ungodly hours of the night, restlessly rummaging around his room, but he still wasn't there. not the real him, not the dean that you knew. the dean you knew was being held captive by that horrid mark that not only haunted his dreams, but yours now too. you missed your dean, the one who told stupid jokes that made you choke on your beer. the dean who grinned proudly whenever you correctly named a song on the radio and who would sing a long loudly to his favorite led zeppelin songs, glancing at you as he drove.

drives are mostly silent now, save for the hum of the impala, or the quiet background noise of the radio, but still never those homemade tapes that he loved so much. he doesn't drink with you anymore, though he still does it an unhealthy amount. he drinks alone in his room, or late at night by himself in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes staring somewhere far off. the only reason you even know this is because one night, when you couldn't sleep, you went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found him there, only to have him get up and leave with only a nod of acknowledgement to you.

it was killing him, and if you didn't do something about it, it was going to kill you too.

the hunt was supposed to be a cakewalk. it was just a nest of vampires not too far from the bunker, and dean insisted that he was fine, that the mark's screaming wasn't too much for him to bear and he was feeling good enough to go with you guys on the hunt.

after sharing a look with sam, you reluctantly relented, agreeing to let him come along under the condition that if he felt the bloodlust creeping in, he would back off and stay behind in the impala.

that leads to now, where you were currently kicking yourself for not doing recon before going in. the nest was bigger than you and sam had originally thought, there were probably double the amount of vamps than you had previously thought, and when you, him and dean had crept into the nest, one of the freshly turned ones - a child, no less - had spotted you and screamed, awaking the whole nest. and so here you were, wrestling with one of the female bloodsuckers on the grimy floor of the abandoned barn.

her dirt-caked nails raked down the sides of your neck, making you hiss in pain as you brought your knee up hard, hitting her in the stomach, effectively pushing her off of you. as soon as she was on her back next to you, you scrambled up, quickly grabbing your machete that the bitch had knocked out of your hands and turning back to her. without even giving her a chance to bare her fangs, you raise your bloodied machete over your head, bringing it down with a cry, cutting her head right off.

taking a second to breathe, you stand up, panting heavily as you brush some hair out of your face, turning your head to the side to spit out some blood, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste. your moment of rests is cut short though, when you hear a loud thud and the sounds of a struggle from the room next to you.

gripping your machete tighter and taking a deep breath, you rush out of the room you had been in, leaving behind the bodies of the three vamps you had killed. you sprint out the door, crashing through the room next door, your heart racing as you see sam in a struggle with two bloodsuckers.

you rush over, cutting the head off one before he even has the chance to fully turn around. the other one drops sam in surprise, turning to you and snarling, his disgusting rows of fangs glinting in the low light. using the vampire's moment of distraction, sam grabs his own machete and raises it, slicing the vamp's head clean off.

"you okay?" you ask, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through your veins.

sam nods, raising a hand to brush his hair back from his face, his own erratic breathing evidence of the fight. "yeah. yeah, i'm good. are you?"

"one of 'em got me good with her nails, but nothing fatal," you answer, tilting your head to show him the marks. he winces in sympathy, eyes raking over the angry red marks before he bends down to pick up a vial of dead man's blood. "where's dean?"

"not sure, i lost him once they jumped on us," sam says, brows furrowing as he pockets the dead man's blood, adjusting his grip on his machete. "maybe we should-"

whatever sam was going to say is cut off as a scream comes from the floor below. you and sam share a look, fear spiking in your chest before you both turn, racing out the door. you sprint through the hallway and down the stairs, sam right on your heels as you skip steps, landing shakily at the bottom. your eyes scan the landing, and you turn to call out to sam, but before you can get a word out, a hand grabs your arm, throwing you across the room.

you hear sam call your name behind you, but he gets cut off, and you assume that he has a vamp of his own to deal with. you push yourself up with a groan, but as your sitting up, a hand grabs your arm again, hauling you up and slamming you against the wall.

"well, would ya look at this," the vamp spits, his yellow stained teeth shown in a grin as he leans in, his putrid breath in your face making you want to vomit. "the winchester's brought their little girl toy. how nice of them to bring us a gift."

"go to hell," you spit, the words strained as his hand fists in the collar of your shirt, pressing against your neck as he raises you higher against the wall.

the vamp only grins wider, running his tongue over his small, cracked lips. his dark, greasy hair falls in front of his eyes, and his bloodshot blue eyes make him look crazed. he's bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, and you wonder if one of the boys had already got into it with him.

"ooh, and she's feisty," he snarls, smirking cruelly. he raises his other hand to brush his grime-covered fingertips over your forehead, running them through your hair.

you turn away from his touch, struggling in his vice-like grip as bile builds in your throat, but his smirk only grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his crusted lips.

"that's just fine," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he leans in to nose at your neck, inhaling deeply, ignoring your struggle in his grip. "i like it when they fight back."

his words make your heart pound, your chest tightening with panic, eyes wide with fear as you struggle in his tight grasp, arms flinging and nails scratching at anywhere you can reach, but he doesn't even flinch, his grip not loosening at all. you open your mouth to scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys, or anyone that will help you at this point, but the hand that was in your hair slaps over your mouth just as you part your lips, your scream muffled into his palm.

"ah-ah, be a good girl and stay quiet," he tuts, pulling back to bare his fangs to you. you just stare at him, eyes wide with fear as you continue to struggle in his hold. you squeeze your eyes shut as he leans in again, a tear slipping down your cheek.

"let her go."

your eyes snap wide open at the familiar voice of dean, gaze landing on him over the vamp's shoulder, relief filling you at the sight of him. he was standing there, blood splattered all over his clothes, face and hair, his grip white-knuckled on his machete. sam stands behind him, his own eyes wide with fear as they flick between dean and you in the monster's grip. you try to call out to them, but the sound comes out as a muffled whimper against the vamp's hand.

the bloodsucker turns his head to look behind him, his smirk faltering at the sight of dean. his fangs retract, but his grip on you stays vice-like.

"well if it isn't dean winchester," the vamp snarls, his hand over your mouth tightening slightly, making you wince. "come to save your little doll?"

dean's jaw clenches, his expression darkening even further as he stares at you and the vamp, taking a menacing step forward.

"i said - let her go," he growls, something dark flashing in his emerald eyes.

the vamp's eyes widen in fear at the look on dean's face, and his grip on you loosens slightly. that's the opening you need, and with all the strength you can muster, you bite down hard on his hand, simultaneously kicking your leg as hard as you can into his crotch.

the monster cries out in pain, his hands dropping you as they fly to where you kicked him. you fall to the floor with a small thud, catching yourself before you hit your head. you quickly stand up while the bloodsucker is distracted, and sam immediately rushes over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, backing you away from dean and the vamp.

"sam, wait, dean-"

"the mark's got him right now," sam cuts you off, his voice thick with worry as he holds you to him, soothing your trembling form. "we just gotta stay out of the way, there's nothing we can do."

his words sink in, and it's then you realize that the barn is quiet. your eyes widen in realization, and you turn your head to look up at sam, heart pounding in your chest.

"he killed them all?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper. sam's grim nod is enough to make you feel sick.

your attention is torn from that information as you hear the vamp cry out in pain, and when you look up, you see dean's got him on the floor, the vamp's head twisted at an odd angle as dean steps on his back, machete raised over his head.

"this is less than you deserve for touching her, you disgusting son of a bitch," dean spits, and you watch in horror as he raises his machete over his head, bringing it down in one smooth stroke, blood splattering across his face as he cuts the vamp's head clean off.

the barn is silent, save for dean's heavy breath and the pounding of your heart. dean's sleeve is torn, and you can see the mark pulsing an angry red, burning into his skin, the sight making your chest tighten even more.

dean doesn't move, he just stands there, chest heaving and eyes blazing as he stares at the dead body of the vamp, his knuckles white as he grips the machete, blood dripping from the blade onto the old wooden floor.

your heart aches in your chest, and you pull yourself from sam's arms, giving him a reassuring look when he tries to stop you. taking a deep breath, you take a small step towards where dean stands, your body still shaking slightly from adrenaline.

"dean?" you call softly, your voice gentle, trying not to startle him. you don't flinch when his eyes snap up to you, and though his body is still tense, you can see something soften slightly in his gaze when it lands on you. "can you put the machete down, please?"

to your surprise, he does as you ask, the blade falling to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the empty barn. you take that as an invitation to step closer, your eyes never leaving dean's as they follow your movements, his lips parted slightly as he breathes.

when you reach him, you tentatively reach your arm up, placing your hand on his arm, but he jerks back, sucking in a breath as he seemingly snaps out of whatever haze he was in. he takes a step back from you, eyes flickering between you and the severed body of the vampire on the floor.

"let's just go," he says, his voice hoarse and cold. with one last flickering glance up to you, he bends down to grab his machete before turning on his heel and walking to the entrance of the barn.

⭒

the drive back to the bunker had been silent and filled with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. once you were back inside the bunker, it wasn't any better, dean not saying a word as he storms ahead, rushing off to his room and closing the door abruptly behind him.

you and sam don't say much as he checks over you for any serious injuries, and you for him. he just hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading to his own room. you follow suit, shedding your bloodied clothing in your room before grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, which the boys had agreed to give you as one of the few that had it's own bathroom.

in the shower, you turn the heat all the way up, scrubbing the blood from your stained skin, washing off the hands of the vamp who had grasped you. you rub until your skin is raw, and even though you did the other day, you shave, just to feel that sense of normalcy instead of the sickly unease that crawls in your nerves. you wash your hair twice, ridding yourself of the blood and dirt you had collected in the barn, sighing as the steam melted against your skin.

as you stood there under the burning stream, you thought about dean, about the look in his eyes, the empty way he had walked away from you, and all of the pain he had been going through since he had taken the god-forsaken mark. you knew that the guilt from succumbing to the blood lust weighed heavily on his shoulders, and you just wished that there was some way you could focus that anger, that need on something else. and that's when the idea came to you.

immediately, you shut off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping your hair in it, grabbing another one to wrap around your body, rushing back into your room and grabbing a different pair of clothes than you had previously chosen. you trade out the old sweatpants for a pair of sleep shorts, large sweatshirt for an old t-shirt that you stole from dean months ago, and tossing your plain panties, instead grabbing one of your nicer pairs, a dark red lace number that hugged you perfectly, foregoing a bra.

you tried not to think about how ridiculous this was as you slip on the clothes, taking your now semi-damp hair out of the towel and running your hands through it gently, getting out the leftover tangles. you splash water on your face, drying it off with a towel as you look in the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to put a bit of makeup on or not. you decide yes, just throwing on the slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner, adding just a bit of blush, and swiping over your lips with your cherry lip balm, pursing your lips to properly coat them.

you lean back and study yourself in the mirror, cringing at the bright red scratch marks on your neck before taking a deep breath as you consider what you're about to do. fuck it, you think, go big or go home, right?

with those words of wisdom to yourself and one last deep breath, you turn and walk of out the bathroom, and then out of the door to your room, heading into the hallway, your bare feet pad on the concrete floor as you make the short walk just a few doors down to dean's room. you stop in front of his door, taking a shaky breath before raising your hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.

you hear shuffling, as if he's getting out of bed, and then the door opens and he's suddenly in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway.

your breath hitches at the sight of him, your stomach flipping as you look up at him. his hair is spiked and damp, reflecting the shower he probably just took, his stubble highlighting his jaw. his plaid pajama pants are slung low on his hips, just enough to show a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of his black t-shirt that hugs his shoulders tightly, stretching over his chest.

dean says your name in a low voice, tilting his head as he looks down at you. you snap out of your trance, flushing slightly as you realize you were caught staring. "what're you doing here?" he asks, and doubt pools in your chest.

"i...i have a proposal," you say, nervously biting your lip as you look up at him.

dean's eyes track the movement, his jaw clenching as he flicks his gaze back up to your eyes, brows raising in question. "a proposal?"

you nod, shifting anxiously on your feet. you take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you smile nervously up at him. "can i come in?"

he doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at you, pushing off the doorway and stepping back, allowing you to walk by him. you step into the threshold of his room, forcing yourself to push away the nerves as you stand in front of the bed. your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind you, walking over to stand in front of you, arms still crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

"so, what's this proposal of yours?" dean asks, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. you snap out of it, meeting his gaze head on as you speak.

"okay, i was thinking about the mark, and the blood lust." you can see his jaw clench at the mention of the mark and your stomach flips, but you continue. "so i thought, what if...what if there was another way to channel that?"

something flickers in his eyes at your words, and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "what d'you mean?"

you swallow nervously, biting your lip as you consider what you're about to say. "before i say it, i just want you to know that if this makes you uncomfortable then i can just go and we'll pretend that this never happened and-"

dean cuts you off with a grunt of your name, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes at you. "just spit it out-"

"i want you to fuck me." the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, both yours and dean's eyes widening at the bluntness of them.

"you want me to-"

"fuck me," you restate, deciding to just go with your forwardness. "i was thinking about what the mark makes you feel, and how it makes you turn that into blood lust, but then i thought about what if you could channel it into something else. give you some other way to let go."

dean doesn't say anything, just stands there, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched so tight your worried he's going to break something as he stares at you, eyes raking over your features as if something in them is going to tell him that you're joking.

you look away as you flush under his stare, regret and embarrassment seeping into your chest. when he still doesn't say anything, you shake your head, biting your lip as you turn to head back towards his door. "i knew this was stupid, i'm sorry-"

dean doesn't even give you the chance to finish your apology as he grabs your arm and spins you back into his chest, pulling a gasp from your lips.

"stop doing that," he growls, and when you look up into his eyes, they're so dark it makes your breath hitch. his hand that's not gripping your arm comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it lightly. "drivin' me fucking crazy."

you're too dazed by his sudden proximity to respond, the woody, leather filled scent that's so purely dean invading your senses and making you dizzy.

"let me get this straight," dean says, his voice low and slightly strained as he thumbs at your bottom lip, his eyes glued to the action. "you want me to fuck you, to get rid of the blood lust?"

you nod, lips parting automatically as he tugs at your bottom one, eyes wide as you stare up at him. "yea-yeah. it would still be letting that energy out, just in a different way," you tell him, your voice slightly breathless.

"and you want that?" he asks, eyes lingering on the way your lips brush his thumb as you speak before slipping back up to meet yours. "you want me to let go with you, sweetheart?"

you nod again, swallowing thickly as your mouth goes dry at the nickname. even though you'd heard it from his lips a thousand times before, this time it felt different, heavier, and you felt it weigh on your heart. "of course, if it'll help you-"

"no," dean cuts you off, growling your name and gripping your jaw tighter. "i'm asking you if you want this. not if you want to help me, i'm asking if you want me to fuck you, because if i won't touch you if you don't want this."

"i want this," you answer without hesitation, your voice breathy and your eyes wide, pupils blown with lust as you look up at him. "i wouldn't do this if i didn't want it."

dean groans, eyes clenching shut as if it's physically paining him to hold back, and his hand on your arm slides around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. when he opens his eyes again, the sapphire green that wormed it's way into your heart is almost entirely swallowed by lust-blown black, the sight making your heart stutter.

"if we do this," he starts, his voice dangerously low. his hand caresses your waist before moving to your hip, gripping the flesh tightly through your clothes. "i'm not so sure 'm gonna be able to control myself. i don't wanna hurt you."

you shake your head, eyes determined as you hold his gaze, your hands coming up to his chest, fisting in his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. "you're not gonna hurt me, dean," you whisper, pushing up on your tip-toes so that your lips are a breath away from his. "i want this, i want you to let go with me. i want you to use me."

dean just stares at you for a moment, his hand on your jaw moving to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into yours, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. as soon as his eyes flick back up to yours, something snaps in him and he surges forward, crashing his lips to yours.

you moan at the intensity of the kiss, your hands moving from his shirt to wind up into his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the still damp strands. his hands are suddenly everywhere, moving from your cheek to grip your hair, the hand on your hip slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, groaning against your lips when he finds that you're not wearing a bra.

your lips part instantly as you feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, moaning into his mouth as he tilts his head, running his tongue over your teeth before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. your head is spinning as your teeth clash, your hands in his hair holding him tightly to you, arching your body into his.

when you both finally remember you need air, you pull back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips. dean rests his forehead against yours, his hands finding a place at your hips, gripping them tightly as he catches his breath.

"last chance to back out," he breathes, looking at you with hooded eyes that make your knees weak.

"not a chance, winchester," you whisper back, your voice equally strained as you pant softly, trying to force air into your lungs.

dean groans at your words, and without hesitation, he slams his lips back to yours, one hand fisting in your hair as the other creeps up your back, pulling your shirt up with it until he has to pull away to tug it off you, throwing it somewhere. his pupils grow impossibly larger as he takes in your bare chest, your nipples pebbling as they're exposed to the cool air. his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he's on you, surging forward and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.

you yelp softly at the sudden action, the sound melting into a moan as you arch into him, hands grasping at his hair to hold him to you.

"fuck, dean─" you gasp, head falling back as his tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, his hand coming up to cup your breast that his mouth isn't currently ravishing. after he's satisfied with the job he's done, he switches, bringing his mouth to your other breast, his hand moving to cup and grope the one his mouth had just been working at, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

when you whimper his name as he bites at your bud, he pulls himself away from your chest with a pop, lips slick and eyes blown as he looks down at you. you stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted as you pant, just taking in the sight of him, so worked up over you.

"fuck," he groans, jaw clenching as his eyes greedily rake over your flushed features, his spit-slick bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hooded eyes follow the movement, your faces close enough that you can feel his breath on your heated skin, which sends a shiver up your spine.

you've seen dean shirtless many times─patching him up, or when motel rooms got too hot, but this was different. now, his toned chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his tan skin flushed with desire just for you.

you're staring, lips parted as you pant heavily, your eyes greedily raking over every inch of skin he's offering to you. your hands twitch to reach out, to feel every ridge, dip and curve of his body, and you're too far gone to deny yourself.

you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and attaching your mouth to his neck. your lips trail up his neck, sucking at a spot under his jaw that has him groaning your name in a way that makes your knees weak. you're sure you would've collapsed by now if dean's arms weren't wrapped so tightly around your waist you could feel his biceps flex against your skin as your mouth ravished his neck and up to his jaw.

you're craning your neck to reach his skin, and you're body feels so hot you're worried that it's going to burst into flames if you don't do something about it. the chorus of more, more, more chants in your head, fueling your trembling legs as the walk forward, walking dean backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

he falls to sit on the bed with a grunt, his grip never loosening around you as you follow him, crawling into his lap eagerly, moaning into his neck when his bare chest presses against yours. you arch against him as you bite and suck on his neck, lips trailing down to nip at his collarbone, leaving a path of spit behind you.

"shit─need t'feel you, baby," dean rasps, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly, grinding you down onto him. you whimper in agreement, reluctantly pulling away from his salty skin, licking your lips to savor the taste of him.

you sit yourself up on your knees in his lap, cupping his face in your hands as you tilt his head back to look up at you, your thumb tugging at his bottom lip just as he did to you before. just the sight of him sends a wave of aching desire between your legs, your panties growing wetter by the second.

dean looks absolutely wrecked. his plush lips are parted and spit-slick, swollen from your bruising kisses, the white of his teeth peeking through the brightened pink as he pants heavily. his hooded eyes are so dark, the mossy green almost completely gone as he stares up at you with such reverence it makes your pounding heart stutter in your chest.

his rough hand squeezing your hips brings your attention back to the moment as he turns his head into your touch, lips ghosting your palm, his eyes staying locked on yours.

"c'mon, sweetheart," dean groans, his voice almost breathless as he squeezes your hip again, the action almost pleading. "can't take this anymore, just need you, need t'feel that pretty pussy 'round me."

his words make you moan softly, but they snap you into action. you scramble off his lap, stepping back from the cage of his legs as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, bending over towards him as you tug them down, shimmying them over your hips and thighs until they fall to the floor.

dean's eyes hungrily watch your every movement, jaw clenching tightly and a low groan escaping his lips as the delicate red lace of your panties is exposed to him.

"son of a bitch," he mutters, his voice a breathless whisper so quiet you almost miss it.

feeling spurred on by his words, you step out of your shorts, leaving them on the floor as you stand between his legs again and start to sink down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. but his arm shoots out to grab yours, stopping you from dropping to your knees with a grip so tight you think it might leave bruises. your pussy clenches at the thought, the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of him on your skin, as a reminder of this chance you may never have again, nearly making your eyes roll back.

"no, no," dean practically snarls, straightening you up as his hands go to the waistband of your panties, ripping them from your body with a ferocity that makes you gasp. "next time baby, i promise, i'll let you use your fuckin' gorgeous mouth on me, but right now i need to fuck that pretty pussy until you can't even think anything but my name."

a breath leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp, the filthiness of his words making your head spin.

"okay─" is all you can manage, your voice shaking as he tugs you back into his lap, groaning when he feels your bare, hot core against his still clothed and straining cock. he doesn't hold the position long though, because in a blink of an eye, he has you flat on your back, breasts heaving as you stare up at him, your eyes wide and needy.

you part your lips to comment something about how he still has pants on, but the words catch in your throat as a moan when his fingers suddenly swipe through your weeping heat. you arch your back against the mattress, trying to push yourself up against his fingers as they circle your throbbing clit, sending sparks of pleasure behind your eyes.

"that's it, that's my girl─ fuck, you're so fuckin' pretty," dean praises, leaning over you to suck one of your peaked nipples into heated mouth.

his words make you whimper, and your hips buck up desperately into his hand, chasing the burning pleasure he's making you feel. "shit, dean, please, please─"

your whines are cut off into a moan when he plunges the same fingers that had been working your aching bud into your sopping cunt, your walls instantly tightening around his digits.

"i know, pretty girl, i know," he croons, his raspy voice muffled against the heated skin of your chest. his plush lips trailing up to your neck, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin as he noses under your ear, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe. "jus' give me one before i fuck you, yeah? wanna feel you come around my fingers before i fuck you stupid on my cock."

you whimper in response, tossing your head back against the mattress with a moan as he drives his fingers into your heat again and again, curling them just right to hit that gummy spot deep within you that makes your toes curl.

"oh god, oh god─" you babble, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the band in your stomach tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. "dean, close, m'so close─"

your words only encourage him, his teeth tugging at your ear once more before he trails them up to your jaw, resting his forehead against your cheek. he presses his lips to the burning skin there as his thumb moves to circle your clit, making you cry out under him, your hands flaying to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut skin as you buck against his hand.

"yeah? y'gonna cum, baby? gonna soak my fingers like the good girl you are?" dean coos, lips moving against your cheek, letting his teeth graze your skin. "c'mon, pretty girl, cum on my fingers so this perfect fucking pussy can take me like she needs to."

you fly over the edge with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and spine arching as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing the air from your lungs. your legs tremble around him, and you can feel his smug smirk against your cheek, your mind too fuzzy to comprehend the words he mumbles against your skin.

his fingers don't stop, working your soaked pussy until your whining, squirming away from his touch as your eyes flutter open, mouth slack as you gasp for breath. your eyes flick up to dean as he moves his face to hover over yours, and his hand has moved but he's not saying anything, and he's just staring at you, and the reverence in his eyes makes you want to shrink, but there's nowhere for you to go.

"dean," you whisper, your voice still shaking and barely audible as your eyes search his, trying to read his expression. he still doesn't say anything, just watching you with his devastatingly beautiful eyes and making you feel like he's worshipping you with his gaze. "what's wrong? do-do you want to stop─"

"do you know," dean mumbles your name, cutting you off effectively. "how fucking beautiful you are?"

the unexpected compliment makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he can hear it. all you can do is stare up at him, and he's so close you can count every freckle on his impossibly perfect face, the moment so intimate it makes your heart clench in your chest.

"you drive me goddamn crazy," he continues, pushing himself up to stand between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed. his hands drift down to the waistband of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one swift movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he kicks them away. "you make me forget everything, y'know that? you make me forget about this damn mark on my arm, you're in my head and then suddenly, all the mark wants is you."

your eyes drift down to between his legs, your mouth watering as you see his cock, hard and heavy in front of you, already red and leaking precum. when you continue to stare, dean leans over you again, grasping your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"i mean, fuck, just look at you, sweetheart," he breathes, his gaze raking over you, lingering on your heaving breasts before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "look so fucking gorgeous...all fucked out 'n stupid just from my fingers."

you only whimper in response, the sound breathless and soft as your spinning head tries to process his words. "please, dean," you rasp, your pleading eyes searching his, lifting your hips up to try and feel hi until he groans softly, eyes fluttering. "need you, please, fuck me.."

he stares at you for another moment, his jaw ticking and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh. he finally moves again, reaching out and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it under you. when he decides you're properly situated, he settles between your spread thighs, grasping one tightly in one hand while the other pumps himself slowly. he leans over you, guiding himself to your weeping entrance as your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping at the hard muscles.

he suddenly stops just before his leaking head brushed your folds, the hand on your thigh tightening as his eyes flick up to yours. "condom?" he asks, his voice strained as he forces himself to hold back.

you shake your head, biting your lip as you watch the way his pupils dilate, the sight making your aching core clench around nothing. "wanna feel you, all of you."

"fuck," he groans, his eyes slipping shut as he pumps himself faster, lining up with your aching pussy again. "baby, you're gonna be the death 'f me."

you just hum in response, your eyes glued to where he rubs his red, swollen tip through your puffy folds. with one more squeeze of your thigh, he pushes in, punching harmonic moans out of both of you. your back arches, eyes rolling back as your tight walls stretch around him, the pleasurable burn making your nails dig into his skin.

dean watches you, eyes wide and blown so dark with desire he looks almost crazed, staying still as he lets you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "that's it, look at you, takin' me so well," he praises, rolling his hips gently to see your reaction.

"ohh shit," you moan, a gasping whimper catching in your throat when he rolls his hips again. he grasps your hips with both hands as leans over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. he stays like that, keeping still longer than he did before, and it doesn't take long until your squirming under him, whimpering softly as you grasp at his shoulders. "move, dean, please─"

as soon as the plea leaves your swollen lips, his hips snap harshly against yours, making you cry out, your eyes flying open to meet his. your mouth goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream and your brow furrowing as he pistons his hips into you, changing angles slightly until he hits that gummy spot deep in you that makes you cry out his name.

"yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl, that's it right there, huh?" dean's voice is strained, the words a groan against your lips as he licks into your slack mouth, making you mewl under him, the sound only encouraging him to go faster. "squeezin' me so tight, shit, perfect fucking pussy was made for me, fuck─"

he pounds into you mercilessly, your tight walls tightening around his cock, sucking him in as his tip hits your cervix, making stars flash in your eyes. you swear you can feel him everywhere. his hot breath against your parted lips, calloused hands gripping your thighs and sliding up to your chest to pinch and tweak at your hardened buds, his cock making you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

you can feel your release creeping up on you, your hands slipping down to grip his biceps, moaning when the muscles flex under your touch. dean seems to sense that you're getting close, and he moves one hand from your chest, trailing his fingers down your torso until he reaches your clit, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud.

the sudden overwhelming pleasure makes you cry out, eyes rolling back as you claw at his skin, broken mewls and gasps leaving your lips. "dean-!"

"yeah, fuck, beautiful, say my name," he groans, dropping his head to your neck, his hips never faltering their bruising pace. "want you scream it when you cum around my cock."

"oh shit," you gasp, hands flying to his back, nails dragging down his skin as you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. "close, shit, m'close dean─"

"yeah, i know, baby, can feel you squeezing me." his fingers speed up on your throbbing clit, and with just the smallest bit of added pressure, the band in you snaps. hard.

you think you scream, but your brain shuts off as your orgasm crashes through you, the pleasure mind-numbing and paralyzing. dean continues to fuck you through it, his hips faltering as he feels your walls clamp down on him with your release.

"fuck, that's it. good girl, good fucking girl," he grunts your name into your neck, his voice strained as you feel him twitch in you, his thrusts just extending your orgasm and melting into another one. "you don't know how fucking long 've wanted this. your perfect fucking pussy gripping me so tight, fuck─ you were made for me, fucking made for my cock, never gonna let you go after this, ngh, you're mine now, sweetheart. all fucking mine."

he continues to babble as his hips falter, lifting his head from your neck to crash his lips to yours, devouring your mouth with his teeth and tongue.

"gonna cum in your tight fuckin' pussy, gonna fill you up, make you feel me for days." you whimper into his mouth, the two of you more so just panting into each other's mouths rather than kissing.

"please, dean, need it, need you so bad," you moan, feeling that band tighten once more. "wanna feel you, please, please─"

"oh fuck, gonna cum," he gasps your name into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening, and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you register that there are definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow. "fuck, m'gonna cum─"

he thrusts once, twice, burying his face in your neck and then his hips still, pressing his cock as deep into you as he can get as he twitches, groaning loudly as he spills into you, his release hot and heavenly in your tight walls. the feelings sends you over the edge again, a weak, broken cry leaving you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure.

you stay like that, trembling and panting softly under him, your eyes hooded and hazy, your shaking hands slipping from his shoulders and falling to his biceps weakly. for a long moment, dean doesn't move, just breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin with every breath.

eventually, he shifts his hips, moving to pull out, and the movement makes you whimper from the oversensitivity. instantly, dean pulls back from your neck, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"shit, did i hurt you?" he asks, and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. "i'm so sorry sweetheart, i didn't mean to─"

you cut him off with a shake of your head, forcing your eyes to focus as you look up at him, a weak, fucked-out smile forming on your lips. "you didn't hurt me, dean," you assure him, your voice raspy. "i'm fine, just sensitive."

"oh okay," he says, nodding and lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it.

he takes another moment, eyes raking over your face again, and he looks like hes't going to say something, but he bites his lip, pushing down whatever it is. slowly, he lifts himself on his arms, pushing up so he's almost sitting, squeezing your thigh comfortingly as he pulls out. you wince slightly at the movement, shivering when you feel his release dripping from your spent cunt.

he pulls away from you completely, standing up and walking over to the corner of his room and your stomach sinks as you watch him rifle through his stuff. you knew this was coming, the part where he awkwardly mumbled a thank you and you take his rejection without a word, making the walk of shame back to your own room, and you never speak of this again.

you can feel the familiar burn of tears forming behind your eyelids as you push yourself up, placing your feet on the ground. you don't look up at him as you lean over, grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. you bite your lip anxiously as you stand up from the bed, intending to put your shirt on only to stumble and sway as your weak legs shake under you.

"woah, woah─" dean's arm comes around your waist, catching you before you can fall and you lean against him without really meaning to sighing at the warmth of his chest. "where do you think you're goin'?"

he turns you in his arms so your chest to chest with him, and you keep your eyes glued to his anti-posession tattoo, not quite ready to look him in the eyes and see the rejection. "i'll just get dressed and go back to my room─"

"hey, what? no," he interrupts, confusion lacing his words. his hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up until you have no choice but to look into his eyes. his brow is furrowed, and you have the sudden need to reach up and smooth the crease with your fingers. "why would you do that?"

your lips part to speak, but no words come out as the intense emotions in his eyes steal your breath.

dean says your name in a low voice, his gaze roaming over your face as his thumb stroked your cheek gently. "did you think i was gonna kick you out?"

"i...i didn't think you'd want me to stay," you admit in a breathless voice, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

he doesn't say anything for a moment, just gazing down at you as his hand raises to brush some of your hair away from your face, and if hekeeps looking at you like that you think you might catch on fire. "i meant what i said."

the words are so simple, so blunt that you don't know what he's referring to. "what are you talking about?" you ask, slightly breathless as your brow furrows in confusion.

"what i said, earlier, i meant it," dean repeats, the hand that's not cupping your chin raising to your forehead, his thumb stroking at the crease between your brows, the tenderness making your breath hitch. "i've wanted you, wanted this for so long, sweetheart."

his words stop your heart, and you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes. you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest, your shirt in your hand falling to the floor as your lips part in shock. "you have?"

"yeah," he mutters your name, both of his hands moving to cup your face now, and you subconsciously lean into his touch, making him smile softly. "i have. i'm honestly surprised you didn't notice before. even cas said i was bein' obvious."

your head reels from his confession, the words processing in your still slightly hazy mind. "you...what?" you ask, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

"i mean, hell, how could i not want you?" dean chuckles, almost to himself as he gazes down at you. "you're smart, 'nd funny, and you could kick my ass any day of the week. not to mention you're so fucking beautiful it makes me weak."

"you...you really mean that?" you ask, brow furrowing in doubt. "you're not fucking with me?"

he shakes his head, smiling down at you as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks affectionately. "you, this...it's all ive wanted for a long time."

"i..." you start, unsure of what to say as you search his expression for any hint of him lying. when you find none, a smile matching his spreads across your lips, and you lean into his touch, bringing a hand up to rest over his. "ive wanted this too. for a while, actually."

dean grins at you─a real, wide, boyish grin that lights up his ethereal features, making your heart stutter in your chest. "i guess we're both idiots then."

"i guess we are..." you agree, pushing up on your tip toes to ghost your lips over his. you hover there, just breathing him in, eyes flicking between his before you close the gap, pressing your lips softly to his.

its nothing like the kisses you shared before. in fact, it's really just the gentle press of your lips to his, savoring the way his smile feels against you, and you suddenly don't know how you've lived your whole life without kissing dean winchester like this. you certainly don't think you can live without it now that you've experienced it.

after a few savored moments, you pull away, smile staying on your lips as your eyes flutter open. your hand slides along his arm, and you feel him tense when your fingers brush over the mark.

"i trust you, dean," you whisper, curling your fingers over the raised skin, squeezing his forearm lightly. "i know you would never hurt me, and i need you to know that im not going to leave."

"but-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your free hand to press a finger to his lips.

"no buts," you counter, shifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling lovingly at him. "just because you think you're dammed doesn't mean you actually are. because you aren't. no matter what you think of yourself, it will never change the fact that you, dean winchester, are the good man. the best man ive ever known, and ill be damned if i let you think any less than that."

"sweetheart..."

"stop. don't fight me on this─"

"i wasn't gonna fight you─"

"yes you were, i could see it─"

he says your name, low and serious, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "you're too damn good for me."

"what did i just say─"

"just let me say this, will you?" he says, giving you a look that makes you shut your mouth, eyes locked on his. he sighs, just staring at you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "youre too good for me, i know that. you're too smart, too kind, just too damn good. but damnit, i want to be selfish so bad and keep you for myself."

you just smile at him, eyes slipping shut as you lean up again to kiss him a little deeper than the one before, but still soft nonetheless. "you have me, dean," you whisper against his lips, your eyes still closed. "you've always had me."

"i don't want to hurt you," he mumbles, and you can feel his furrowed brow as he leans his forehead against yours.

"you won't hurt me."

"you don't know that─"

"yes, i do." your tone is sharp, and it makes his eyes snap open to meet yours again. at this proximity, you can see the specks of gold that flicker in the deep emerald that makes your heart skip a beat. "we'll figure this out, dean. we'll get through this and get that damn mark off you. we'll figure this out, together."

dean smiles at that, a soft, relieved curve of his lips that makes the corners of his eyes crease. he looks at you with so much emotion and affection that you want to just crumble into him and never let him go, hide him away from the world so that it can't hurt him more than it has. "together," he repeats, his voice a hushed whisper.

you can tell that he believes you, and the thought makes pride swell in your chest. you may not know much about your fucked up lives at the moment, but the one thing you know for sure is that you were never going to let dean go through it alone. ever.

a/n, this ended up being way longer than i intended, but oh well. anyways, i can't get moc!dean out of my head, so here we are... and happy late new years!

ps, the end was written at 3 in the morning (again) so i sincerely apologize if the ending is rushed

[tasteracha]

a/n: hey @chvnnie remember when you asked me to write this like a year ago? i did it. inspired by that one skzcode clip of seungmin teasing felix and felix getting pissed off. warnings: seunglix x afab!reader, meanish dom felix, sub seungmin, smut - MINORS DNI.

you’re woken up by jarring voices, the tv that had been providing you background noise for your slumber having gone to sleep shortly after you did. it takes you a moment to identify the sounds, your brain coming online a few moments after your heart, beating rapidly in your chest from being kicked out of unconsciousness so abruptly. 

“you don’t have to be so fucking mean all the time,” you register felix’s voice first, a dangerousness hiding in his dark tone that doesn’t come out often. he’s usually so positive even when he’s in a bad mood, optimism cracking away at any negative emotions in a way you admire. 

“i wasn’t being mean,” seungmin scoffs in return, and you can hear him walking down the hallway towards the living room where you laid with bated breath. “you’re just being sensitive, lix.”

oh, he’s done it now. 

seungmin sees you first, a blinding smile taking over his face as he walks over to you to run a hand through your hair. you relax into his touch, relishing in the comfort while knowing that a fight was about to break out soon - you knew the difference between felix being sensitive and being genuinely angry. 

right now, even without seeing his face, you knew it was the latter. 

felix walks into the room and you swear he looks six feet tall, standing with his arms crossed and a look on his face. it makes you shiver though it isn’t directed at you, and it goes unnoticed by seungmin even though his hand is still buried in your hair - he was too occupied with smirking at felix, pouring gasoline into a fire that was already blazing towards the ceiling. 

you know what they say, play with fire and you’ll get burned. you hope that seungmin was prepared for what is about to occur. 

“you want me to take care of this, lix?” you ask, your role of Professional Seungmin Tamer coming increasingly more natural as the days went on. it is a last ditch effort to calm the flames. 

“no,” felix’s jaw is set in a hard line, and you can see his teeth grinding together. “i’ll take care of him myself.”

“take care of him myself,” seungmin mocks, snickering to himself for a moment before choking around it from the sudden feeling of felix’s hand around his jaw. felix has moved like a ghost, crossing the room in quick strides and covering seungmin’s body with his own in a silent motion. seungmin’s hand falls from your hair, reaching up to wrap around felix’s wrist - not moving it away, but rather bracing himself against the storm.

seungmin is usually taller than felix, but he’s left looking up at him because of how his knees buckle. despite his clear disadvantage, seungmin lets out a growl at felix’s touch.

“awh, you going to bark for me?” felix coos at him, not an ounce of warmth behind his words. “puppy.”

“you wish,” seungmin hisses out, the breath leaving him completely when felix tightens his grip on his jaw and uses the other one to brace the back of his neck, trapping seungmin completely against him. 

“how can you say that when i can tell you want me so bad already?” felix says, looking something wicked as he wedges a thigh between seungmin’s legs. from where you are you can’t see the younger man’s crotch but you’re certain that his jeans are tented with arousal; your own core was starting to pulse with heat just from watching them, despite you not being touched by either of them. 

“i don’t want you,” seungmin scoffs, trying to turn his face out of felix’s grip and failing. he was lying; seungmin always wanted felix, but nine times out of ten it was on his own terms. you can only imagine how fast seungmin’s head was spinning right now at the sudden change in dynamics. 

watching seungmin twitch his hips against felix’s thigh was maddening. this is the first time you’ve seen felix take control of seungmin like this. maybe felix would make seungmin ride his thigh - that was something you’d be delighted to see. 

“then why are you so hard?” felix’s mouth twists into a grin, wicked and sharp, as he presses his leg further forward, putting pressure on seungmin’s cock and making him moan. 

seungmin, for all his false bravado, submitted beautifully and easily when it was for you. it didn’t surprise you that he did it for felix too, but the sight of his muscles losing their tautness all at once was something to behold. he falls into felix’s arms, boneless and grinding his hips in little circles against the older’s thigh, the fight drained out of his body as quickly as it had arrived.  

“i hate you,” seungmin mutters weakly against felix’s chest as he chases a high he must know he won’t be allowed just yet. the fight left his body, not his mouth, evidently. 

“you’re just making this worse for yourself with every word,” felix chuckles, dry and mean, as he turns seungmin around and pushes him roughly forward. seungmin stumbles and throws a glare over his shoulder, but the effect is lost when he continues to let felix manhandle him. 

“baby,” felix calls out to you, his tone shifting to warmth instantly. you perk your head up and you can’t suppress the shiver that wracks through your body as he cocks his head towards the bedroom while leading seungmin there, a clear invitation to join them for whatever felix was planning to do. you’re on your feet before you can blink, anticipation burning through your veins. 

you have to pause and take a deep breath when you reach the door frame before going in; you knew that what was about to happen was like a fantasy pulled from the deepest depths of your mind. when you gather the nerve to peek inside, seungmin is already naked on the bed, his bottom lip hidden between his teeth as felix fastens his wrists to the headboard with the soft ropes that typically adorn his own. 

“open your mouth,” felix digs his fingers into seungmin’s lips, ignoring how the younger thrashes against the bonds keeping him in place. felix leans forward so that he’s kneeling over seungmin and slides his free hand into his dark hair, scratching softly at his scalp before curling his fingers into a fist and pulling.  “this is all the lube you’re getting, so unless you want me to fuck you dry you’d better do as i say.”

the words sound unpracticed as they spill out of felix’s lips, but seungmin’s lips part with a gasp nonetheless. he chokes on the digits as felix explores his mouth, reaching every crevice and swiping around his annoyingly white teeth. his fingers coming out glistening with saliva, wet and dripping as he lines them up with seungmin’s hole. 

felix opens seungmin up brutally, sliding two fingers in and cooking them up with a look of satisfaction on his face when seungmin jumps. it was a caricature of their usual dynamic, with felix typically melted into the sheets as seungmin uses him however he sees fit. felix finds seungmin’s spot with practiced ease, letting out a laugh when seungmin cries out at the intense pleasure. he avoids it after, scissoring his fingers almost clinically, teasing seungmin with the sensation that is so close but that he won’t be granted.

contrary to his claim, felix squirts a generous amount of lube on his cock once he undresses before he pushes in slowly, letting seungmin feel the drag of every inch. the younger’s breaths come out in violent shudders, and as you step closer to look his pupils are almost completely blown over his irises, barely a hint of chocolate brown to be seen. 

felix presses a kiss to seungmin’s forehead when he bottoms out, the gentlest touch he’s given him since he started. it shows how spaced out seungmin is that he leans up into the touch, craving felix’s touch like he would starve without it. seungmin’s eyes are glassy, a spaced out expression taking over his face that you’ve never seen before. he tends not to let his guard down, even during the most intimate moments that you share, and you hope that you get to witness this again. 

felix keeps a steady pace, dragging out slowly before pushing back in with a snap, driving seungmin further up the bed with every movement. 

“love?” felix calls out, and both you and seungmin make a noise. you know that felix was talking to you only when he ignores seungmin completely, continuing to snap his hips, pulling breathy whines from seungmin with every thrust. “will you come here?”

he says it like a question but your body thinks of it as a command as you float over to him, stopping just inches from the bed. felix unfastens seungmin’s wrists from the headboard, keeping them pinned together, and pulls him up. he turns him and wraps his arms around his chest until they are both kneeling upright, flush against one another. his cock remains buried inside of seungmin the whole time and you can’t help but give him a look of impressed approval. he looks pointedly at you and then the space he cleared out in front of seungmin in response, and you flush as you kick off your sweatpants and climb into the bed, laying on your back. 

when did felix learn how to tell you what to do with just a look? you didn’t know where this was coming from, but you loved it. 

felix places seungmin gently onto you with the carefulness that you expected from him on any other day. if it weren’t for him not wanting to crush you with seungmin’s weight, you were sure he would have thrown the younger onto the bed with little to no thought. seungmin settles against you like he belongs there, nuzzling his face into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, and you can feel how hot his cheeks are against your skin. his cock settles between your thighs, hard and rigid, and you let out a sympathetic hum when felix stops him from rutting up against you. he reaches around seungmin and lines the younger man up against your hole, a little clumsy with his movements, and you can feel his leaking cock twitch against you. 

felix pushes seungmin into you with a snap of his own hips, driving himself deep into seungmin as he gets buried into you in one motion. the moans you and seungmin let out harmonize into the thick air, the scent of sex swirling with the noises in a colorful kaleidoscope. the colors burst into fireworks as felix sets a fast pace, pleasuring the both of you so naturally. 

felix leans past seungmin to kiss you over the younger’s head, and seungmin keens at the sight of it. he’s sandwiched between the two of you, chasing pleasure from every angle, and witnessing the two people he loves most in the world make out on top of him - you’re not sure that he can even think in coherent sentences right now. with his cock surrounded by your tight heat and felix’s own ramming into him, you’re surprised he can even keep his eyes open. you know that this is the moment where he surrenders himself to felix completely. 

you reach your limit faster than you ever have, your clit untouched and throbbing; just the obscene sight of seungmin being used between you and felix is enough to bring you to the brink of pleasure.  

“seung- lix, can’t,” you gasp out, every push of felix’s hips driving seungmin’s cock further into you, making you jolt - it’s too much. 

if it’s too much for you, you can’t imagine what it’s like for seungmin.

you thought that felix would take pity on you and let you finish, too focused on punishing seungmin, but instead he pulls out of the younger man and pulls him out of you with a harsh pull. 

seungmin all but wails at the loss, bucking his hips down onto the mattress. you hadn’t realized how close he was, too lost in your own high, but his brow was pinched and his lips were twisted just right to tell you that he was. 

“please, please,” he begs, flipping himself over to kneel in front of felix. “let me come, please.”

“you think you deserve to after what you did today?” felix looks down at him, eyes cold as ice. your own neglected orgasm was brushed away by the sight of seungmin begging. he was usually too proud to beg, too in control of situations to even need to, but in this moment he was completely helpless to felix’ whims. 

“i’m sorry,” seungmin loses control over the tears brimming in his eyes, fat tears dripping onto his cheeks. “‘m sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to-”

he falls forward into felix’s chest, entire body shaking with his shuddering breaths, and you see felix falter for the first time tonight. he looks at you with slight panic, the coldness melting away into affection towards the man crying into him, and you simply nod at him. you know what to do, you blink. you can do this, you smile. 

“puppy,” felix shushes him, running a hand down seungmin’s spine. “it’s okay. you’re being so good for me now, right? my good boy.”

“‘m good,” seungmin hiccups into felix’s chest, nodding his tears into felix’s skin. 

“you’re sorry, and you’ve been punished, right?” felix coos at him, trailing his blunt fingernails up and down seungmin’s back. “you’re alright.”

“i can come?” seungmin’s words come out nasally from his tears. 

“yes, puppy,” felix moves his thigh so that it’s between seungmin’s legs, trapping his weeping cock against the flexed muscle there. “take what you need.”

seungmin whines out a broken thank you and starts his hips at a rapid pace, chasing the high that he had been denied over and over. you lose count of the sniffles, whines, and moans he lets out, but you can tell exactly when he comes because his entire body seizes and his throat constricts around a high keen. 

felix strokes his back through it, shushing him and pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks and face. you can’t help but smile at the gestures, a little overwhelmed at how naturally felix fell into this rhythm.  your smile freezes when his own turns sharp, and he winks at you before flipping seungmin over and sliding back into him. he pushes seungmin down onto the bed and the push of hot breath he puffs out at the impact hits your forgotten cunt. felix pushes one hand down onto seungmin’s nape as he fucks back into him, chasing his own high and nurturing your own. 

you can feel seungmin’s lips trembling against your core with every thrust, his body pushing up against yours until he’s trapped between your legs. he licks at you un uncoordinated motions, but it’s enough. a few beats of time later, between the harsh slaps of felix’s thighs hitting seungmin’s ass and seungmin reaching up to squeeze his hands around your thighs, you come with a content sigh. your legs tighten around seungmin, keeping him close as your hips jerk against his mouth, and the sounds of felix coming are drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

the next few moments pass by like snapshots, blurred images separated by shocks of camera flutter, and by the time your brain catches up with your body you’re laying down in a new position. your head is pillowed on felix’ chest, him sandwiched between you and seungmin, the latter’s fingers tangled between yours. 

“what the hell just happened,” you blink a few times, jaw almost dropping open when you see the utter contentment on felix’s face. 

“i think i discovered something new,” felix’ voice is languid, rumbling against your ear like a muted symphony. 

“if this is what it takes for you to learn things, we need to piss you off more often,” you tease, teasing a finger around felix’s nipple just to hear him hiss and see the soft glare he sends towards you. like a kitten. 

a puppy and a kitten; what were you going to do with these boys?

“speak for yourself,” seungmin mumbles from felix’s other side, coming back to himself slowly. he glances blearily at you, and his drying tear tracks and red rimmed eyes make him look so incredibly beautiful. “i can’t move a single one of my limbs.”

[lnfours]

omg hey. i love your writing so much. can i request "is everything okay?" "i just need a distraction.." "how was your day? i want to hear everything." if not all good, don't feel pressured to write this

thank you anon!! <33 i hope you like this one bc i am currently a puddle on the floor

fluffy sleepover

it was 2am when your phone rang, the noise cutting through the otherwise silent bedroom. you answered it, pressing the phone against your ear as you rubbed your eyes.

"hello?" your voice was raspy and sleep coated.

"sorry, i wasn't thinking about what time it was back home," lando's voice carried a underlying tone of guilt.

"no, it's okay," you sat up now, aware that your best friend only ever really called you when something was wrong, "is everything okay?"

"uhm... honestly, no, not really," he huffed, "i just need a distraction.."

you didn't press about what was bothering him, you knew he'd talk to you when he was ready, "what do you wanna talk about then?"

you could hear the faint chatter of people around him. you had imagined he was still at the track, probably on his way out, “tell me what you’ve been up to. how was your day? i want to hear everything,”

you smiled, letting out a soft huff before recalling the events of your day, “well, my day was pretty boring. went out to lunch with the girls, came back and did some laundry, did some cleaning, sat on the couch with my book for a few good hours, and then made dinner and watched tv til i fell asleep.”

he hummed as you heard the sound of a car door closing in the background, “a peaceful day it sounds like.”

“yeah,” you smiled softly, a short but comfortable silence falling between you before you spoke again, “do you wanna talk about it?”

his end was silent for a minute before you heard beeping on the end of your line, pulling the phone away to see that he had clicked on the facetime option. you clicked on the green button and smiled softly when his face appeared on your screen. he was lit up by the dim lighting of the interior lights in the car, bags under his eyes clearly displaying how exhausted he was.

"i just wanted to see your face," he said softly, voice wavering from nerves. scared of crossing the uncharted territory you two had always danced around. you both just smiled, sitting in the dark and looking at each other through the screens.

lando's soft voice broke the silence this time, "if i bought your flight, would you come?"

"tonight?"

he nodded, swallowing thickly. he knew what he was asking you to was selfish, but he needed you. needed to have someone in his corner. needed someone rooting for him when he crossed the line, no matter what position he'd fall in. and you were always that person. you were always going to be that person. that's why he loved you.

"always,"

[oceantornadoo]

okay but best frien johnny who gets in your last nerve when you’re pms-ing or ovulating. and he absolutely knows what he’s doing bc he tracks ur cycle

“johnny, just stop! god, it’s like you’re a little boy.” you get up in a huff, leaving a bewildered gaz and johnny in the common room. johnny’s still loosely gripping the remote you were fighting over, stuck doing mental math as he watches your retreating figure stomp down the hall and out of sight.

gaz breaks the tension by snatching the remote out of johnny’s hand, a murmured “sorry, mate” as he picks the first action movie he sees, just to have some background noise. it doesn’t drown out the buzzing in johnny’s head or the concerned look gaz is shooting his way, that ever-present cap doing little to hide his questioning eyes. “‘s fine. the lass isn’t feelin’ her best. gonna go check up on her.” he jerks his body off the couch, not waiting for an ok by gaz as johnny makes his way to your room.

you’d been snappy at him all week. critiquing his messy room (he preferred the term eclectic), his handsiness (was never an issue before), even his smell (he knew you liked his musk though). suddenly, he had an inkling to check that app on his phone, the one hooked up to your period tracker, and lo and behold, he had his answer. now it was a matter of getting on the right side of your hormones.

johnny stopped in front of your door, fishing out the copy of your key he made, unlocking it without announcing himself. he walked in on you changing, hand on your back to unhook your bra as you slipped out of your day clothes. you didn't acknowledge him, instead slipping on your pajama shirt (one of his old ones) and taking off your underwear, kicking it towards your laundry bag as you pulled on sleep shorts. "now who's bein' messy?" johnny muttered, ignoring your scoff as he picked up your discarded underwear and placed it in your laundry hamper. "you here to apologize?" you spit out, refusing to make eye contact as you looked in your mirror, pulling your shirt this way and that. johnny stalked over to where you were standing, settling behind you as he met your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head. "yer period's comin' soon, bonnie. 's why yer all mean an' spittin'."

your mouth dropped at the insinuation, taking a step forward to get out of his atmosphere. unfortunately, he followed you, taking two steps until your back was flush against his chest. one hairy paw reached out to cup your breast over your shirt, his fingers ignoring your pointed nipples as he squeezed you to his liking. "tender?" all you could do was nod and bite back the pain he was sending your way, hormonal nerves shouting at you to stop him. his hand traveled to your stomach, rolling your pudge between his fingers. "bloated?" you nodded again, his motions giving you no relief from your pms symptoms. he didn't seem to care, focusing more on your body reactions. "skin's hot. temp's goin' up, hm?" so that's why you woke up in a sweat last night. which you didn't even tell him about...

"you're being weird, johnny. how do you know all this?" he shrugged, his hand on your stomach traveling again to cup your pussy, his other hand sliding against your spine to reach the back of your neck. "what are best friends for? i know she's all sensitive." he squeezed your cunt for emphasis. "think i should kiss her an' make it all better, mo leannen?" you nodded silently. he pulled down your shorts and got to his knees, turning so he was eye-to-cunt with your sensitive pussy. he gave her a sniff, then a kiss on your clit. another for emphasis, tongue flicking in like he was trying to make out with her. the angle was all bad, the pleasure minimal, which he knew. it was for pure emphasis - to stake his claim that he knew you better than you knew yourself. after another kiss, he rose back up, righting your shorts. "c'mon, need yer sleep before the blood comes." it would be impossible to sleep with him, an absolute human furnace, but you went along anyways, your best friend johnny leading the way.

more best friend!johnny here!

[onlyangel4]

even when we're silent. cody rhodes

cody rhodes x wife!reader

synopsis: after winning the title it feels like cody is putting his career before your marriage. this leads to arguments and the silent treatment. but even through the silence you show him that at the end of the day you will always be there for him.

author's note: let's pretend john attacked cody in the middle of a separate match, i feel like that works better for this.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the hotel room was quiet too quiet. that kind of stillness that only followed something loud and messy. you stood by the window, arms crossed over your chest, the city lights below doing nothing to distract you from the ache sitting deep in your chest.

behind you, cody was pacing. or maybe he wasn’t anymore, you hadn’t looked at him in the last five minutes. you didn’t want to.

"you’re really not gonna say anything?" he asked, voice low, tired. not angry anymore. just drained.

you swallowed hard. "what’s the point? you already made it clear what matters most."

cody sighed. that long, annoyed kind of exhale that used to get under your skin when you first started dating. now, it just hurt.

"that’s not fair", he muttered.

"no", you said, turning to face him finally, "what’s not fair is me sitting alone in hotel rooms night after night while you give your soul to this company. a company you promised would never matter more to you than me"

cody shook his head. "it doesn’t."

"then why do i come second to it every single time?"

his jaw clenched. "because this is my dream. you know what this means to me"

"i didn’t know your dream wouldn’t have room for me."

silence. just that again. he didn’t have a comeback. not a real one. and maybe that hurt more than if he’d shouted back. maybe it would’ve been easier if he’d fought harder for this.

you stared at him for a long moment. "i’m not asking you to give it up, cody. i’m asking you to show me i'm part of it."

"i don’t know how to do both", he admitted quietly. "not the way you need."

and just like that, something in you went still.

you turned away, brushing past the suitcase you hadn’t even unpacked. "then maybe you need to figure that out."

he didn’t follow you when you left the room.

he didn’t call that night.

and when you showed up backstage the next day, the two of you passed each other in the hall like strangers.

this wasn't what married life was supposed to be like.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the backstage hallway was buzzing like always, lights flickering above, producers rushing by with headsets, and the muffled sound of the crowd roaring from the arena. it was the usual chaos of smackdown, but it all felt like background noise to the quiet storm brewing inside you.

you stood near one of the tech crates, arms crossed, trying to look like you were just waiting for something. instead of holding yourself together with the last threads of stubborn pride.

"hey."

you looked up at the soft voice and saw sami zayn walking over, brows furrowed with concern. he wasn’t in gear yet, just a hoodie and joggers, hands shoved in his pockets like he was trying not to come on too strong.

"hey", you replied quickly, trying for a smile. it didn’t stick.

he studied you for a second, then tilted his head slightly. "you okay?"

you let out a soft laugh, more exhale than humour. "is that a trick question?"

sami gave a half-smile, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "look, i know i’m not trying to be all up in your business, but i’ve seen you three shows in a row now looking like you're about to explode or disappear. neither feels like a good option."

your chest tightened. he wasn’t being pushy, just present. and somehow that made it worse. or better. you couldn’t tell.

"it’s cody", you admitted, words tumbling out before you could stop them. "we’ve been fighting. not even big fights, just, everything. and nothing. he’s so locked into this ‘people's champion’ mission that i feel like i got cut out of the script."

sami nodded, staying quiet.

"i’ve been trying to support him", you continued, voice cracking a little. "i am supporting him. but it’s like i’m invisible now. he says he loves me but forgets to show it. i used to be part of this dream with him. now i’m just there. in the background.”

sami crossed his arms, leaning a little against the crate beside you. "that sounds really hard. especially when you’re doing everything right."

"i don’t even need him to give anything up", you said. "i just want to matter to him as much as this does. or even close."

he was quiet for a second before responding.

"you know, i've watched cody push himself harder than anyone i’ve ever seen. it’s inspiring, but it’s also scary. because sometimes people get so obsessed with proving something to the world, they forget they don’t have to prove it to the people who already love them."

your eyes welled, but you blinked fast, trying to keep it together. "i didn’t sign up to be a placeholder in my own marriage."

"and you’re not", Sami said gently. "you're the foundation. and if he’s smart, he’s going to realize that before he ends up standing on something that's already cracked."

you looked at him, really looked, and offered a quiet, grateful smile. "thanks, sami."

"anytime", he said with a shrug. "you don’t have to carry it alone, okay?"

a beat passed between you before the arena speakers kicked in

"the following contest is scheduled for one fall"

then cody’s music hit.

you froze. your eyes locked on the screen showing his entrance, and for a second, you forgot about everything except the tightness in your chest. it wasn’t about the match. it was that you didn’t even know if you were rooting for him tonight.

but deep down, you still were.

sami followed your gaze, then looked back at you. "go watch him", he said. "even if you’re mad. you still care. that’s okay."

you nodded, swallowing hard. "yeah. i do."

and you hated that you always would.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you stood just off to the side of the monitor bay, arms crossed tightly, watching the screen as cody’s entrance music hit. he looked calm. focused. maybe a little too focused. like a man trying not to feel anything beyond the ropes.

your heart pulled in two directions, resentment coiling in your chest and love still clinging stubbornly to the sight of him. he was still yours, even if it didn’t feel like it lately.

sami came to stand beside you, quiet again, offering silent support. you didn’t look at him, but you appreciated the weight of someone standing with you. not for cody but for you.

the match kicked off without surprises, cody versus solo sikoa. power against precision. you watched cody move like muscle memory was the only thing keeping him going. he was getting hit, but he was giving it back. the crowd was loud, and the pace was stiff, but it was fine. it was normal.

until the lights shifted.

until john cena’s music hit.

your stomach dropped.

you knew about the run-in. It was planned, the next beat in the story heading into wrestle mania. cena comes out, roughs him up a bit, crowd goes wild. you’d heard the pitch days ago. you didn’t love it, but cody had waved it off.

"it’s just heat", he said. "it’ll be fine."

it wasn’t.

cena hit the ring fast and before cody could even fully recover from solo’s last samoan spike, he was down. you expected a few punches. maybe a chair. but cena didn’t stop.

he didn’t pull back.

fists, stiff and angry, rained down. cody tried to roll, tried to cover, but cena mounted and kept going. a heavy elbow. another. the ref yelled. the med team hesitated, unsure if this was still part of the show.

it wasn’t supposed to look like this.

"something’s wrong", you breathed, stepping forward.

then cena lifted cody, who was barely standing, and threw him hard against the steel steps outside. the crack echoed.

and you ran.

you didn’t even think. just bolted from gorilla position toward the ramp as the crowd roared louder, not knowing what was real and what was too real. you were almost at the ring when two strong arms stopped you.

"whoa wait!" sami’s voice echoed.

you struggled, eyes locked on cody still crumpled by the steps.

"let me go! he’s hurt, sami, let me go!"

"y/n don’t", he said, holding firm, trying to keep calm while you thrashed. "you’ll get hurt if you go out there right now."

"i don’t care! he’s not moving, cody!" your voice cracked, panic bleeding through.

then randy orton was beside sami, adding his grip, steady and commanding.

"hey, hey", he said firmly, trying to ground you. "he’s gonna be okay. medical’s already moving. don’t do something you’ll regret, alright?"

tears blurred your vision. your lungs burned from yelling. you were shaking.

john stood in the ring now, arms raised like this was still part of the show, but even his face looked unsure. like he realised he’d gone too far.

you stopped struggling. sami and randy didn’t let go right away, not until you slumped forward, breath trembling, staring down at the man you hadn’t spoken to in days, now barely able to stand.

he looked up, dazed, blood at the corner of his mouth. his eyes found you.

and even from across the chaos, you saw it, the regret. the fear. the unspoken i'm sorry that neither of you had said out loud yet.

"i need to go to him", you whispered.

sami let go first.

as soon as Randy and Sami loosened their grip, you tore free, not running this time, just moving, like your legs were moving faster than your heart could keep up with. the crowd was still roaring, somewhere between hype and confusion, the kind of electric buzz that made it hard to tell what was real.

but this, this was real.

you climbed into the ring, barely noticing the blood on the mat or the crew stepping aside as you dropped to your knees beside cody. he was half-sitting, half-slumped, trying to act like he wasn’t as hurt as he was.

"hey", you breathed, touching his cheek, not caring who saw. "hey, baby, look at me."

his eyes fluttered open. "y/n"

you cupped his face, ignoring the swelling near his brow, the busted lip, the way he still breathed like it hurt. "why didn’t you stop him? why didn’t you signal?"

"i didn’t want to ruin the moment", he whispered, smiling like it didn’t split his lip. "it's wrestlemania season"

you shook your head, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "you’re such a dumbass."

he laughed, winced, and nodded. "yeah. i am."

your hands slid into his hair, forehead resting against his. "you scared the hell out of me, cody. i didn’t even know if we were still, i thought i hated you. and then i saw you go down and all i could think was, i can’t lose him."

his arms were slow and shaking, but they wrapped around you anyway. you didn’t care that everyone was watching. you didn’t care about storylines or production cues or the red light on the camera.

all you cared about was that he was here, holding you like he still meant it.

"i’m sorry", he murmured. "for everything. i’ve been chasing something that doesn’t matter without you."

"you’ve been chasing it alone", you corrected, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. "and you don’t have to."

he stared at you like he’d forgotten how to breathe. then, in front of thousands of screaming fans, with trainers and refs hovering nearby, cody pressed his forehead to yours and whispered.

"i don’t want to do any of this without you anymore."

you kissed him softly, like a promise. and the crowd went insane.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

as soon as you got backstage you were met with chaos. trainers. ice packs. voices muffled by adrenaline. cody sat on the medical bench, sweat and blood drying on his skin, the high of the crowd already fading into exhaustion.

you stood close, arms wrapped around yourself as the medic cleaned up his cuts. he flinched once. you winced harder.

"you should’ve told someone he was going stiff", you muttered, voice low.

"i didn’t want to be the guy who can’t take a hit" cody replied, not meeting your eyes.

you walked over and knelt in front of him again, like you had in the ring but this time, it was quiet. private. no lights. no crowd.

"you don’t have to prove you’re unbreakable, cody. not to them. not to me.", your voice cracked at the end, your walls coming down, finally. "i need you whole. not heroic."

he looked down at you, his eyes soft. "i thought i had to carry everything. the company. the name. "

"you just have to carry me", you whispered. "and let me carry you back."

he nodded, voice hoarse. "i want to be better. for you. with you."

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his.

"then start by coming back to me", you said softly. "and this time, stay."

cody leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours again, eyes fluttering closed. for the first time in weeks, the silence between you was comfortable.

[katnipp]

hey there delilah— jeong yoonchae

genre: angst

synopsis: before the world knew her as yoonchae of katseye, she was just the quiet girl in the back of the classroom—the one who loved y/n silently, in the space between glances and unsent messages.

warnings: unresolved tension, regret, they grow apart from each other .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

a/n: i feel like a supervillain after writing all of this angst

—

before she was yoonchae of katseye,

she was just yoonchae.

the girl with chipped black nail polish and a sticker-covered water bottle,

who always sat one row behind y/n in biology,

who smelled faintly of vanilla and jasmine shampoo.

the kind of girl you almost missed if you didn’t know where to look—

but once you saw her,

you couldn’t look away.

she had a voice like velvet and a laugh that sounded like a secret.

never loud, never obvious.

just… warm.

gentle in a way most people didn’t know how to be at seventeen.

⸻

she used to write music during lunch.

knees tucked up, earbuds in, pencil moving quick.

no one ever asked what she was writing, except y/n.

“lyrics,” yoonchae mumbled one day, cheeks pink.

then paused.

“…i don’t really show them to people.”

but a week later, y/n found one of them folded into her locker.

no note. no name.

just one line circled over and over again:

“i love you best when you don’t know i’m watching.”

⸻

they never kissed.

not even once.

but they had those long, slow stares in crowded hallways.

those almost-holding-hands under lunch tables.

those sleepovers where the space between them felt electric,

like something waiting to become real.

and y/n?

she thought it was a phase.

a feeling that would fade.

a soft thing not meant to last.

she was wrong.

⸻

yoonchae left right after graduation.

no goodbye.

just an empty seat at the diner they used to haunt,

a disconnected phone number,

and an ache y/n didn’t know how to name.

⸻

the years after were quiet in comparison.

college. city noise.

jobs and roommates and people who came and went.

y/n dated. kissed. tried.

but it was never quite the same.

no one looked at her like yoonchae did.

like she was a song that hadn’t been written yet.

like every small thing about her mattered.

⸻

then came the night y/n saw her again.

a random wednesday.

takeout on the counter. the tv on in the background.

some flashy music award show.

and then—

“next up: global sensation katseye with their cover of ‘hey there delilah”

y/n barely glanced up.

until she heard the name.

she saw her

center stage.

she was under a single spotlight, with a guitar in her lap.

she strummed the first notes and y/n’s breath caught.

but the moment she sang—

god, y/n knew.

knew it before her heart could catch up.

before her breath could return.

before her body stopped shaking.

because that was her.

that was yoonchae.

⸻

she spent hours online after that.

found everything.

fan accounts. music videos. interviews.

a wikipedia page with too-little personal info and too many perfect photos.

but not a single mention of their hometown.

not a single clue about her past.

except the covers.

the lyrics.

the ones y/n couldn’t stop replaying.

“hey there delilah, what’s it like in new york city…”

and it wasn’t just another cover.

it was her.

all of her.

raw and aching and real.

and when she got to the line—

“don’t you worry about the distance, i’m right there if you get lonely”—

her voice broke, just a little.

and y/n swore, for a second,

she looked right at the camera

—

y/n didn’t tell anyone about it.

not her friends. not her roommate.

she kept it to herself—this strange, slow heartbreak.

this quiet knowing.

the girl who loved her in silence

was now being heard by millions.

and she still sounded like she was singing just to her.

⸻

the performance went viral.

people called it intimate. heartbreaking. beautiful.

but y/n?

y/n just sat on her kitchen floor, shaking.

because she knew.

she knew.

that wasn’t a song to a crowd.

that was a love letter.

unfinished. unanswered.

and maybe too late.

—

[islayhawkin]

Night out

john price x autistic!f!reader

summary: john takes you out for a drink with his team

A/N: this shows the parts of autism from my own experience. Doesn't mean everybody has the same experience. Husband John is so cute.

Found out that I'm way better at writing angst than fluff haha oops

Fluff

It was a friday evening when john took you out to meet up with his comrades. You were introduced to them before but you never really spoke to them. Mostly because john took measures to keep his private life -you- separated from his work. But he came home today and was going to meet up with them just as friends outside of work so he asked you to come along since he didn't want to leave you alone immediately after he just returned.

So it happened that you were sat next to your husband in the car while he drove you both to the bar they agreed to. When you watched him drive you couldn't help but admire the way he effortlessly switched gears and scanned the street through the front as if he was checking a battlefield. He smiled and rested his hand on your thigh once he met your gaze. "You tell me if they make you uncomfortable alright? They can be quite...well you know how soldiers are." he told you in that gruff voice of his, but he somehow made it sound incredibly soft.

"I will. Thanks." You smiled at him and squeezed his hand gratefully.

"Of course."

"There's a toilet, right?" you asked as your mind was already in the bar.

"Yeah 'course. I'll show you." he reassured.

"Okay good."

He glanced at you a few times during the ride. Clearly observing the slight tension in your body and how you tapped your fingers anxiously on your knee, but he didn't comment on it.

After a few minutes of silent driving, he parked the car on the side of a street, shut the motor off and went out to open the door for you before you were able to pull a jacket on. The sound of your shoes could be heard on the gravel in the otherwise quiet street as well as the slam of the door behind you.

John offered his arm and you settled your hand in the crook of his elbow. His form shielded you from the street as he always insisted to walk on the side closest to the ongoing cars. Usually, you would have felt unsettled to walk in such a quiet part of the city in the dark but with john by your side you felt the safest you could ever be.

A torrent of noise engulfed you the moment you stepped foot into the bar. People talking, music playing in the background, glasses clanging. John guided you through the group of people to a table in the back. Loud laughter on the right. A door swinging shut on the left. The arm of a man pushing you slightly into John's side.

He pulled you close to him and cleared the path as well as he could. Apparently, John's friends were already there. He greeted them as the three men stood up and clapped each other on the back rather roughly it seemed to you. You had to do without his arm as support now so you busied yourself with your hands while swaying from one side to the other. Their mouths moved but you weren't able to make out their words through all the noise.

When John stepped back one of them stretched their hand out for you and you took it as your cue to shake his hand and smile at them politely while another man -the other Johnny you recalled- shook your hand. The hand was big but slimmer than John's and slightly sweaty. You wiped your palm against your clothes to rid the feeling, but the urge to wash them lingered.

Kyle and ghost made their way over to the bar to grab you all drinks while you sat down around the table. John arranged the seating so you would only sit next to him and not squeeze in between the men. He leaned his head down and grabbed your hand softly in his.

"You good?" he muttered in your ear. His eyes scanning your face. "It will get quieter soon."

You nodded and grasped his hand back.

One of his fingers pointed in the direction to the left. "There are the toilets"

You followed his eyesight until you spotted a door in the corner. You nodded and moved your thumb up and down over the back of his hand in a soothing manner.

Soap leaned over the table with a smug look on his face. "...never seen the captain like this..." You looked between John and Soap. John was already sighting exasperated next to you.

"What do you mean?"

Soap laughed. He looked carefree as the laugh took over his whole face. You rarely saw such a laugh on John.

"He's all lovey-dovey with ye. We know him to be a lot differently." Soap grinned.

You glance at john next to you, who rubbed his eyebrows, already embarrassed. But there a was a slight pull in his lips that told you he enjoyed people seeing you with him. It made a feeling of warmth spread through your body at his reaction. He looked almost... proud? Maybe you were just interpreting too much into it.

"Wha- how do you mean?" You leaned back over to soap. Careful to put enough distance between you but still being able to hear him.

"Well ya kno', he's a pretty harsh captain. Always scoldin us, shoutin around the field. Doin things that... are verra different from how he treats ya. All soft and gentle."

"Oh. I guess it would be weird if he was that way on the field too. I don't know him any differently..." you shrug.

"Oh lass we're gonna have a lot of fun." he winked. John already feared what he was talking about.

"Alright I think that's enough gossipin about me now."

Soap just laughed but to john's luck gaz and ghost came back with the drinks in hand and sat down next to soap.

The drinks were handed around the table leaving you empty handed. "Cap said you don't want anything, you sure?" Gaz asked as he noticed it.

You nodded with a smile. "Yeah thanks. I drink from john's." You pointed to the drink in front of john.

Gaz gave a nod. "Well let me know if you change your mind ma'am."

You smiled genuinely this time. Being called ma'am wasn't a usual occurance in your life, but every soldier you met did it. It was respectful. You appreciated that. Especially when john had adressed you with it at the beginning of your relationship.

The men started a easy conversation sometimes asking you questions to involve you. It was difficult to hold a conversation when you could only understand half of what they were saying, but over time the bar began to quieten down which made you feel more at ease.

You took john's glass to drink even though you didn't know what it was. Something non-alcoholic since he was driving but still bitter. Just the way john liked it.

John apperantly saw the grimace you made at the taste. "I can get you a other one if you don't like this one, love"

"It's fine."

John scanned your face. He knew you too well and it wasn't the first time you went out together. There were two possible reasons why you didn't want to drink. Either you thought it too expencive or you were too anxious to get anything down.

"I want you to drink something nice. You don't worry about the price alright? You're my mrs. Price I can afford you a drink." He smiled and lowered his head to get to your eye-level. He always did this. You didn't know if he was aware of it. But somehow he was able to make himself look smaller and less intimidating with his body language.

Your eyes shied away to settle on his lips instead. "Okay." You grinned sheepishly. "You know me too well."

Johns face lighted up triumphically. "I'll get it. Be right back." He pecked your temple before walking over to the bar.

The moment he left the table gaz and johnny started talking to you too.

"You know he's thinkin about you all the time when we're out. Always carrin' that picture with him and worryin'."

"-all he does is worry. Can be bloody annoying, no offence." Ghost piped in.

"...also the first few nights" johnny wistled. "He must miss you much-"

"Johnny don't talk like that to the lady."

Soap looked offended. "She knows that for sure! Not something that's unknown to her probably."

You laugh and raise your brows ammused. "I made my assumptions. Even though john rather always seems to complain about you three"

They laugh and slap eachothers arms before engaging in a animated talk about the topic.

The later it get's the more energy was drained. You had an almost blank look on your face and weren't able to make polite smiles anymore neither engaging in the conversation. John noticed of course. He observed the way you became quieter over the evening and seemed to sink into yourself. Even when he saw you this way so many times before it seemed his heart couldn't take you being unhappy in any way. It made him want scoop you up and bring you home. He hated not being able to shield you from everything. Even the others were shooting their captain confused looks.

"You okay?" John muttered, only for your ears to hear.

You nodded. "Can we go home soon?"

"Of course. You tired?" He brushed a calloused thumb over your cheek.

You nodded in response. "If you wanna stay I can wait a bit. I don't want to cut your evening short."

He smiled reassuringly. "I need to get you home."

Relief flooded through you even though you felt guilty for pulling john back again.

"Alright lads. We'll be going. The missus needs to put this old man to bed." He joked.

Even though it was a joke it meant a lot to you. He took the blame for your departure. It made you blink up at him in disbelief.

The men made some comments and complained about you leaving so soon but goodbyes were given and a moment later john led you out of the bar. His hand resting gently against your back.

Your walk to the car was silent but you could feel his glances on you. It wasn't in a uncomfortable way, it made you feel looked out for.

"Why did you do that? Lie about us leaving."

John looked slightly taken aback by the question as if he didn't think about it before.

"Well I assumed it wouldn't feel nice to you for me to announce that you were the reason we were going home. And It's easier for me to take a few hits from the boys than for you. Honestly didn't think much about it."

He opened the door for you before walking around to the other side himself. Your gaze followed him as he shifted in his seat to get comfortable and clip his seatbelt shut. He met your gaze when he looked up.

There was a small smile hidden beneath his beard. "What?" His voices sounded gruff as if he had smoked too much. Maybe he had.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

His expression softened considerably. "Because I'm putting a seatbelt on?" He teased gently.

You gave him a 'seriously?' look. "I'm serious john. You're the best husband I could ever wish for."

He lowered his head bashfully. His heart skipping a beat. He'll never get used to being called your husband. "I try my best darling. I'm glad you think so."

You leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. The hairs of his beard tickling you. It was a familiar feeling. There was no smile on your face, there didn't need to be, you didn't have to pretend anything with him.

"Thank you."

John grabbed your hand in his bigger one giving it a squeeze. "For what?"

"Being you." Your eyes met his and you were able to hold eye contact for the moment.

John chuckled. "That's not a-"

"For always looking out for me. For accepting me the way I am and always trying to meet my needs even if you want something else. For never getting angry at me and being SO considerate. Like, like you did back there taking the hit for me without even thinking about it. You do stuff like that all the time."

It sounded so genuine coming from you even though your tone sounded flat. Almost like you were stating facts. "And I feel like I'm holding you back a lot. You need to give up so much for me and I need you for so many things it probably can be annoying for you..."

John's brows furrowed instantly. "Darling...it's not- you're not annoying to me. Never. And I'll gladly give up whatever if it means that I get your love." His voice was so gentle, that his friends would probably fall from their chair. A slight shake in his head to contradict your thoughts. He adjusted his position to cup your cheek in his palm.

His mind was spiraling to express his thoughts and make you aware of your importance to him. Did he ever make you feel like you weren't? Where did you get the idea? Had he acted annoyed when he helped you sometime? Maybe that time were he had gotten home from work...

"I never meant to make you feel this way. You need to put up with all my bullshit too and I'm so grateful for you. I-" his voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat.

You were overwhelmed by how you should react. It wasn't the first time you saw him vulnerable, you were used to his nightmares or worries, but it didn't happen frequently either and there wasn't excactly a handbook for 'what to do when your husband feels-' well you weren't entirely sure what emotion he felt at the moment either.

He took a breath. "You just mean a lot to me, love. I want you to be happy."

"But you need to be happy too." you stated quietly.

He smiled. "I am happy. More than happy with you. You're about the best thing that happened to me." A chuckle escaped his lips. "And honestly I quite like that you're a bit dependend on me. Makes me feel needed."

John pulled his head down to lean his head against yours. "You don't need to say anything. I just don't want you to think that you're a burden to me."

"But it is hard on you sometimes is it not?" you whispered. The blue in his eyes was so close that it blurred.

"Yes it is. But I know it's hard for you too being with me sometimes." He adjusted his eyes downwards.

"Yes. We make it work tough."

"That we do love. We make it work." he whispered before closing the small gap and touching your lips with his.

[10byten]

Soft Spot for u

- When you started college, one of the student associations assigned you a senior mentor. Back then, you never thought you'd still be friends with him as you enter your final year, while he’s already long graduated. Even less that he’d be the guy of your dreams—the one who makes your heart race. -

Words : 2.6K

You’ve never been much of a party girl. Well, not in the “nightlife scene” kind of way. But a night owl ? That’s totally you. Staying up late doing all the things the daytime doesn’t allow ? That’s your jam. Especially when you’re spending those nights with him.

Since your freshman year, Yuta has been your go-to for late-night hangs: studying, laughing, bickering, drinking, and dancing. You quickly adapted to his vibe - even though, unlike you, he thrives in the nightlife. He loves hopping from on-campus parties to the city’s best clubs. For Yuta, you’d adjust to anything. Normally, you’re not big on people or physical contact, but with him, it’s different.

The first time he asked you to join him at a party, you tagged along, thinking, Why not? At least I’ll have a story to tell. You didn’t like dancing in public—the stares, the unwanted touches—but his touch? That was different. Before long, you were showing up to every party he invited you to, becoming a campus party regular.

Little did they know, you hated parties. You only went for him. For those moments on the dancefloor when his hands rested protectively on your hips, silently warning other guys to back off. It drove you crazy that it felt more big brotherly than anything else. But when you danced together, something shifted. He wasn’t being protective—just… present.

You’ve always wanted to make a move, but the fear of losing him held you back. If he hadn’t made the first move, it probably meant your feelings weren’t mutual. Right? But honestly, just being by his side was better than being with anyone else.

Yuta changed you—not just in how you see relationships, but in how you see life. He was more than a mentor for academics; he pulled you out of your comfort zone and into a brighter, more open world.

Waiting for him to pick you up tonight, you’re lost in thought, touching up your makeup as Keshi’s Soft Spot plays in the background. Your phone buzzes.

Yuta: Be there in 2 mins, love.

You grin, his name lighting up your screen. Gosh, this man owns my heart.

When you hop on his bike, he whistles, eyes raking over your silver sequin dress.

“You planning to set the campus on fire tonight? I don’t remember telling you to outshine me, little miss.”

“No one’s hotter than you, Yuta.” You flirt back, the way you always do when he compliments you. It gives you butterflies every time.

He smirks, giving you a playful smack on the thigh. “Flattery’ll get you far, baby. Keep it up.”

At the party, Yuta, as usual, commands attention. Walking in with him feels like entering as a rockstar’s date—his magnetic aura turning every head. You join his friends—Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung—who’ve already lined up shots.

Johnny hands you a suspiciously colorful concoction. You sniff it. “Johnny, is this safe? Because I really don’t want to start the semester in the ER.”

Everyone laughs, and Taeyong teases, “Sometimes I forget you’re still in school. Those were the days…”

Shots clink, faces grimace, and the party kicks off. But soon, the buzz, the chaos, and the alcohol start working their magic on your senses. All you want is to dance—with him.

The noise, the games, the music, the chaos of people chatting and singing along, all the stuff happening around you, mixed with the alcohol buzzing in your veins, has your senses on high alert. And now, you only want one thing—to dance with him. You’ve shared him with the crowd long enough, and now it’s your turn. Just you and him, in your world, even if it’s just for a bit.

You leave Jungwoo and Kai behind, still going at that ridiculous card game where every rule somehow ends in "take a sip." It’s funny as hell, you can admit that, but nah—right now, you need him. It’s all you can think about.

You find him at the bar, mid-conversation. You head toward him, sitting by the counter, your mind racing with one single thought: you wanna throw your arms around his neck and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. His legs are spread like he’s waiting just for you, a couple of messy strands of hair falling into his eyes, and his half-unbuttoned shirt teasing you with a glimpse of that stunning belly piercing and a peek at his tattoo.

You stop in front of him, hesitating for a second. He’s still chatting with Taeyong but doesn’t miss a beat, sliding an arm around your waist like, yeah, I know you’re here. That little gesture? making you go crazy, and without a second thought, grab his wrist and pull him to the dancefloor. Pressed against him, your bodies move in sync, his hands on your hips, his breath on your neck. Butterflies? More like fireworks. 

He’s totally getting with your vibe, moving with you like he’s reading your mind. When you turn around, you catch that huge smile lighting up his face—and wow, it’s the kind of smile that hits you right in the gut. He’s loving this moment, and it’s setting off a full-on butterfly storm in your stomach.

You kinda wish his smile wasn’t this attractive, this unfairly cute, this stupidly sexy. Because all you can think about is kissing him senseless. Like, right now.

You keep getting closer, grinding up against him more, and for some reason tonight, you’re feeling extra bold. You slide your fingers into his, guiding his hand to trace your curves in a way that’s definitely more suggestive than usual. Yuta doesn’t just go along with it—he’s into it. His response is all green lights, like his body is totally in tune with yours, wanting this as much as you do.

You feel his breath on your neck as you press your back against his chest, and yeah, it’s short. Is he... out of breath because of you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and without even thinking, you push your hips back against him, swaying like it’s second nature.

And then you feel it—him. Hard. For you.

That’s the last green light you need. You turn, locking eyes, fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him, pouring years of longing into it. He kisses back—hungry, desperate.

Next thing you know, you’re in a dimly lit laundry room, pinned against the door as his lips crash back onto yours. His hands are everywhere, his voice dripping with desire.

He kisses you again, and this time it’s pure, raw desire. Like, where the hell has he been hiding all this? Not that it matters—you’re practically melting in his hands. Your skin’s on fire, and it feels like your blood is boiling. He’s gonna make you explode, like you’re some freaking nuclear reactor on the verge of meltdown.

The only way you can even begin to handle this insane craving is by biting his bottom lip, cutting the kiss short. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and there’s this spark in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

“I didn’t know you had this bad girl side,” he says, smirking. “You’ve always been my sweet, innocent Y/n.”

“Not that innocent I guess, if only you knew about my dirty secret.” 

“Hmm tell me more baby” you smile hearing the petname he gave you, you love it soo much. 

“I touch myself so many times, soaking my panties, just thinking ‘bout you” 

He groan “You didn’t.” 

“I can’t even count how many times since I know you, you’re my favorite fantasm.” You say a lil bit shyly. 

He looks into your eyes, a proud smile on his face. “Then allow me to make the fantasy come true.”  He takes hold of your dress, so small that it doesn't take much effort for him to expose your already soaked thong. He slides two fingers over your pussy to caress you through the fabric.

“You’ve been holding out on me, huh?” he growls, fingers brushing against the lace of your underwear.

“Only for you, daddy,” you whisper, testing the nickname that’s been on your mind for way too long.

He freezes, then smirks. “Gosh, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

You've never been so willing in your life. You only dream of one thing: his tongue on you and IN you. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder to get better access. You feel his breath on your inner thigh and you moan at the sensation alone. 

“Oh god.” He look at you, from the bottom and smirk “You can call me Yuta.” And with those words he wraps your whole soaking pussy in his mouth. First he eats you through the fabric of your thong. Then, using his fingers, he shifts it to the side. He flicks his tongue up and down your folds and then concentrates on your clitoris, sucking gently. The stimulation sends you into heaven, you feel as if you've left this earth. And then he starts playing at your entrance with one of his fingers, looking at you “Want me to get inside baby girl?”

“Yes, please, yes !”

 “Your wish is my command.”

He takes hold of your clit again, nibbling lightly, then gently and deliciously slides a finger into your pussy, soon adding a second, which you welcome as a blessing. You try to be as quiet as possible, but your little cries and sobs excite Yuta even more. He picks up the pace and eats you up like he's starving, tasting you like you’re his last meal, you’re trembling. Soon you feel your orgasm coming on and you press down on Yuta's shoulder as if to let him know you're about to burst. He smiles, "Let it go baby, I'm here for you.” You feel the most powerful orgasm you've ever had in your life rushing through you. And this time you can't help yourself, you moan his name out loud and pray that no one else walks by at the same time. He stands up and sucks on each of his two fingers in front of you. Then he slides his tongue back into your mouth. 

“I think you can still feel yourself on my tongue, so much that I've sucked you in.” You wrap your arms around his neck, wanting more, but Yuta slows the pace. “Maybe we should slip away before we're noticed.

You slip out quietly, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone. On the way back, you’re still all sensitive from the way he completely wrecked you earlier. When Yuta pulls up in front of your dorm, he looks a little more hesitant than before. Still, you invite him to come up with you for a bit.

As you close the door to your apartment, you see him sitting on the couch, his hands covering his face like he’s deep in thought. But you don’t stop to overthink it—he’s already given you too much tonight for you to back down now. You climb onto his lap and kiss him, slow and intense. He kisses you back but suddenly pulls away.

“Wait,” he says, looking at you seriously. “I need to understand what’s happening here. Like, what are we doing right now?”

You stare at him, confused. “Do you want a diagram or something?”

“No, I mean, seriously. Isn’t this, like, a bad idea? I’m older than you, and you’re totally wasted. I am too, actually.”

“So what?”

“So yeah, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’ll probably regret it tomorrow. I don’t want to mess things up between us. You mean a lot to me and—”

You cut him off with a dramatic wave, making it clear he needs to stop talking immediately. “This is unreal. Stop seeing me as the clueless first-year kid who doesn’t know anything and needs a protector. Yuta, I don’t want a protector—I want you.”

He just stares at you, speechless.

“I got a soft spot for you, from the very beginning,” you continue, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth. “And honestly, I’ve been hoping every single day since we met that one day you’d wake up and feel the same. But you’ve always had this big brother vibe, and God, it’s been killing me, because I love your attention, I love how affectionate you are, and how you’re always there for me. But Yuta, I want so much more than that. I never said anything because I didn’t want to scare you off or ruin what we have. But seriously, I’ve been into you since day one. So please, stop being my bro—be my lover. Tonight, I felt like it was now or never. There was this moment, this chance, and hell, it’s my last year. I want to leave this university finally dating the guy I’ve been crushing on since freshman year. So if you’re not into it, just say it, but please stop looking at me like I’m some little kid and start seeing the woman I could be by your side.”

Yuta’s lips crash onto yours, giving you the single greatest kiss of your life.

“So you’ve been this into me for all this time, and you never said a word?” he teases, a grin spreading across his face.

“Yuta, please. I’m not exactly the most social person, but I’ve spent practically all my time with you. I hate parties, yet I’ve been at them every week since I met you. I HATE octopus, but I learned how to make Takoyaki like a pro. I think Naruto is the most boring anime ever, but I binged every damn season. Why do you think I did all that? For who?” you shoot back, exasperated.

“Uh… sorry?” he mutters sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize. Honestly, I love most of those things now because they remind me of you, or they’re just so you. I don’t force myself. If it means spending time with you, it’s always worth it in the end.”

He smiles at you, soft and affectionate.

“I’ll admit, I’ve thought about this a lot over the years too,” he says quietly. “But the age gap always felt like too much. And I had this mentor role, you know? I didn’t want to look like some creepy older guy. More than that, I didn’t want to lose you or ruin what we have.”

Your heart pounds at his words. So he doesn’t see you as some desperate little kid, and, more importantly, the guy of your dreams feels the same way about you.

“Can you say it out loud, though? Just once?” you tease him.

“I got a soft spot for you, Y/n.”

“No, no, no, you can do better than that.”

He chuckles, running his tongue along his cheek, clearly amused but knowing you’re not letting this go.

“I got a big crush on you.”

Your smile stretches ear to ear, and you crash your lips against his again. He responds instantly, sliding his tongue against yours, his hands moving to your hips as he pulls you closer. Then, without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to your room, laying you gently on the bed.He trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “If you play your cards right tonight, sweetheart, you just might get me to admit I maybe am in love with you by the end of it.”

[saltnsugarbear]

Congrats on 200!! This celebration is so fun! I would love to request the prompt “This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.” with Lip!

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: smut MDNI!!! i leaned heavily into the themes of Shameless I'm so sorry, fucking at a funeral, afab reader genitalia, unprotected sex,

side note: I'm picturing specifically the bathroom of the venue of the wedding i went to in February and it was in a like a vet association place so a VA in rural Wisconsin.

You didn't really know the deceased.

They were a friend of your parents and therefore you were dragged along. Seeing the eldest Gallaghers was a surprise to you. Chicago could be so small sometimes.

It's impossible to focus on the service with Lip staring at you. He's not even being subtle. He's been trying to float around you all afternoon, trying to get you alone while you were trying to help set up.

The service ends up being much later, as you wait for people to come in and gather. But you're sitting with your mom silently in one of the rows closest to the podium and bouquet of lilies in the front of the room. You didn't expect the Gallaghers to sit in the row over from you. They're also a row up, which gives Lip the opportunity to glance back at you as much as he pleased.

At a certain point you couldn't stand it anymore, clenching your jaw as you refrain from making a scene yelling at Lip. You sigh softly, deciding there was only one way for you to get this over with.

"Gonna go check on the food," you tell your mom, placing a reassuring hand on her arm before getting up.

It's no surprise when Lip gets up and follows you into the small kitchen area across from the bar. You pause at the sink, back turned to the serving window when Lip walks in. He joins you by the sink and you're quick to start shoving him farther back into the kitchen, towards the industrial dishwasher and three compartment sink.

"What is your problem?" You ask him, voice hushed so you can't be overheard.

"My problem?" He asks you, quirking a brow at you.

"Yes, your problem. You have a fucking staring problem. And instead of looking sad at a funeral, like you should, you look like you're waiting to fuck me in the back alley like you used to." Your voice is a rough whisper that can be hidden under the noise of mourners talking outside of the kitchen.

Lip scoffs and rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You think I wanna fuck you?"

"Oh, don't make me laugh, it's written all over your face." You cross your arms. Lip looks at you for a long moment, before reaching up to undo his tie with one hand. The motion confuses you, making you furrow your brow as you watched. Once his tie is undone, he brings it to rest around his neck plainly.

"What the fuck does that mean?" You ask, assuming it was how he wanted to respond to your statement. Which made no sense in any sort of matter other than he agreed to it.

Instead of answering you, Lip just takes a step towards you. In reaction, you can't help but step back. He takes a second step forward. Then a third. Then...

The fourth step has you both chest to chest with your back against the counter. He holds eye contact with you for a long time, searching for something you don't know. "What are you doing?"

Your voice is soft and quiet. Like you're trying to keep a secret. You can't do much but watch as Lip reaches for your wrist. You don't think much of it until he starts leading you out of the room. That's when it hits you he's not taking you back to the service room.

"What are you doing?" You hiss at Lip again as he drags you past the bar and arcade machines to the bathroom. For some reason he chooses the women's room, shouldering the door open and pulling you in.

"Lip, what-" You're cut off by his mouth on yours as Lip pushes you up against the door. Distantly, you can hear the door lock slide in place but it's background noise compared to Lip's presence around you.

You're reminded how intoxicating Lip can be. He's got one hand gripping your chin and the other lifting one of your legs up to bring your core against his half hard erection. He grinds against you, making you gasp and welcome him to explore your mouth. He practically inhales the whine that leaves your throat when he gives a particularly harsh rut against you.

Lip sets your leg down as he starts to trail kisses down your jaw. Your chest rises quickly as you try and catch your breath, sighing as he bites at your neck. Clapping outside of the door reminds you of where you are.

"This is wrong," you try and rationalize. Trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

"So wrong," Lip agrees, but his voice is distant as he rolls his hips into you. The force makes you grunt, pressing your hands flat against the door behind you. He's fumbling with the buttons of your pants, undoing them sloppily before shoving them down your legs.

"We're at a funeral.." You pant out, trying to remind him as Lip grabs your hips and walks backwards. Contrary to your words, you follow him and let Lip lift you onto the counter next to the sink.

"Uh-huh.." Lip agrees before bringing you into a messy kiss. It's all hot breathing and the cold linoleum counter top against the backs of your thighs. Both your fingers are fighting to undo his pants and dress shirt, pressing the fabric roughly against his skin. The sound of his belt coming undone echoes through the bathroom, dropping to the floor and skittering as he kicks it away.

While he undoes the button of his jeans, you start pushing off his suit jacket it. Lip lets it fall to the ground with his belt, favoring shoving his pants and boxers down. While he's distracted you lifts your hips and shove off your underwear, pulling it off your ankle and setting it under you to have some barrier between you and the counter.

Lip doesn't let you prepare much before he's nudging up against your entrance. He slides up to nudge your clit with his head, making you bite your lower lip to quiet yourself. He scoffs as you try and keep quiet, shaking his head because he knows the charade won't last.

The feeling of him pushing into you makes you gasp, arching into him as you slap a hand over your mouth. Lip let's you breathe for a moment, letting you adjust to the intrusion. He places soft kisses to the parts of your collarbone he can reach, coaxing you to relax. As you do, Lip pushes farther into you, causing you to whine as you bite down on your knuckles.

The groan that tears through both of you once he's fully nestled in you, echoes throughout the bathroom. You sigh heavily at the feeling, closing your eyes as Lip soothes a thumb over your hip. With your eyes closed, Lip finds it easier to press kisses over your face; kissing your cheeks gently, moving over your nose and kissing between your brows.

You give him the go ahead by jerking your hips upwards, whining when his length presses against your walls.

When he starts, Lip has a messy pace. Starting off fast, pounding into you in a way that has you squealing and shoving a knuckle between your teeth. The sound of skin against skin fills the bathroom so loudly you're sure someone will hear you.

Oh shit.

Someone could hear you.

"Wait- Lip, wait-" You get out. Barely. But the second the words are out of your mouth, Lip stops.

"What? What's wrong?" Lip shifts his hips like he's going to pull out but you're quickly tugging him back into you.

"Need-" You sigh heavily. "Need to be quieter... Slower.."

Realization takes over his expression, sighing 'oh' softly as he shifts on his feet. Now, Lip is no stranger to slow sex, it's just not his preferred style. But he understands the situation enough that he actually listens to you.

Lip's thrusts are slow and deep. Setting a slow and steady pace instead of a fast and rough one. Instead of fucking you like he usually did.

"Missed ya.." Lip grunts, pulling all the way out to the tip before slamming back into you. He found a way to make even the most intimate sex, rough and grabby.

"Yeah?" You ask breathlessly, trying to maintain some form of indifference. Like you didn't also miss him. "Or did you jus' miss- fuck- miss fuckin' me?"

Lip huffs at you, punishing your words with a a shallow thrust, causing you to whine.

"Maybe both," he grins as you lean your head back against the wall.

You sigh as Lip wraps an arm around you, holding your opposite hip tight as he leans a hand against the counter behind you. The grip he gets on you let's him thrust into you better. He manages to set a steady rhythm to his thrusting, making your mouth drop open as he punctuates each one with a smooth roll of his hips.

The little roll manages to create a delightful friction between your clit and Lip's happy trail, providing enough stimulation to keep you on a steady track to your own release. But Lip knows your body well enough. He knows when to bring his hand off the counter, instead letting you rest back again so he can split his fingers around where he sinks into you.

He uses the slick from both of you to coat his fingertips before he slides them up to rub at your clit. His steady movements makes you whine, making your legs clamp around his hips.

"Oh, fuck- fuck-" You whine, jolting up to bury your face in his shirt as your orgasm washes over you. You can't help but wrap your hands in his shirt, holding Lip close while he continues to rut into you messily. He grunts above you, giving you a few more sharp thrusts before you feel him twitch inside of you. "

"Shit-" He grunts, rolling his hips idly as he sighs into your hair.

Your forehead rests against his shoulder, breathing heavily as you catch your breath.

"Think anyone noticed we're gone?" Lip jostled you with his movements, nudging his shoulder against your forehead.

"Probably.." You sigh, lifting your head up and place your hands on the counter to keep yourself propped up.

"Should probably do something about that," he makes a circular gesture around his face but you know he means yours. "You look like you just got fucked instead of like you're mourning."

"Fuck you," you roll your eyes at Lip. But you probably do look like a mess compared to when you left the service.

"Again? Already? Y'sure?" Lip asks with a grin, tilting his head to one side.

"Idiot.." You huff, pushing him away with your knees so you can slide off the counter.

"Wanna um..." Lip hesitates as he kicks his belt along the floor a little. "Wanna go by Patsy's after?"

"Patsy's?" You ask him before turning over to face the mirror. Lip was right, you look like you've just had sex not like you're ready to attend a funeral. He makes a noncommittal noise as he ducks down to grab his belt and jacket from the floor.

"Mean figure I should buy you dinner after fucking you like that.." He shrugs as he reloops it and tucks in his dress shirt again.

"Never got me dinner before," You remind him as you adjust your appearance, wetting your fingers with water from the sink to wipe your face. You can see him moving in the corner of your eye as you finish adjusting your appearance to something that's at least a little bit presentable.

When you turn back to him, Lip has your pants in his hands. He's turning them so the button faces him when he looks up at you. Instead of handing them over, Lip comes to stand in front of you and kneels down, holding the pants out for you. You huff again as you place a hand on his shoulder when you step into your pants, letting Lip pull them up for you as he stands. He pulls you close by your hips, zipping up your pants and redoing your own belt.

"What d'ya say?" He asks softly, not letting go of you just yet.

"Lip.." You sigh softly, bringing your hands to flatten the suit jacket he's put back on.

"Just dinner. That's it." He tells you, looking at you with wide blue eyes.

You sigh again, buttoning his jacket for him before you place your hands over his.

"Okay.." You say and he's kissing you once the word is out. You let out a surprised hum, bringing a hand to his face to pull away a little.

"Just dinner." You remind him. Lip nods distractedly, looking at your lips and then your eyes quickly.

"Just dinner.." He repeats before kissing you again.

You already know it's going to be more than just dinner.

[jessnotfoundd]

We can't be friends - Lewis Hamilton. (Breeding kink)

6! KINKTOBER! MINORS DNI

Remember this contains sexual descriptions, nudity, and intercourse.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

Lewis took victory in the Silverstone GP and we were out at night to celebrate with the other drivers and wags, we were just friends but everyone could tell the line wasn't as clear as it used.

Things went smoothly. He was chill, drinking a drink like usual, he wasn't a crazy animal while partying like everyone thought, he was actually calm. Enjoying the moment.

On the other hand, you had me, the crazy party animal trying to stay composed aside from Lewis.

"You can go to dance, you don't have to stay here all night trying to be a good girl," he says in my ear because of the loud music. The closeness and the words he chose send shivers down my spine.

"I'm not trying, I'm enjoying the moment, that's all, you won your home-race gp" I looked at him, trying to make him understand I wasn't desperate to go dance. I was lying, dying to dance with him, to feel him against me while we danced like we always used to do.

He guides me to the dancefloor and I already know what kind of night waits ahead, we dance, he teases me, I grow impatient and horny and he plays innocently with me like he didn't do anything.

My back is against his chest in the little space we had for ourselves on the dancefloor. Every brush of his hand against my waist, each subtle shift of our bodies closer, sent a shiver down my spine, He leans in, resting his chin on my shoulder, his lips are so close to my skin that I feel like I could come undone just from how my body feels against his and his breath against my skin.

"You've got some good moves there," he says, I hear it like a whisper because of the loudspeakers around the place. I tilt my head back, trying to answer him.

"I could say the same about you but I'd be lying" I joke.

Lewis chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, adding a spark to my growing arousal, his hand slid up my back, his fingers tracing a slow line that made my heart race. The way we were moving wasn't just dancing, it was a conversation without words of what was to come once we were back at the hotel.

"Is this how you celebrate your wins?" I say, turning around to face him, he holds my hips and pushes me flush against him. I can tell he's smirking because I know all his reactions.

"You know I do, just with you" his lips brushed my neck and I could feel the heat pooling in my stomach.

The music was a background noise now, it was as if the world had shifted its focus, leaving just the two of us.

He leaned in close, his hand brushing lightly against my lower back, "Let's get out of here" he murmured, his lips inches away from mine.

My eyes meet his gaze, a slight agreement between us. With a slight tug on my hand, he guides me through the crowd, his grip warm and reassuring as we slipped out of the club and into the cool night air. The rush of excitement from earlier lingered, but now it was laced with anticipation.

The car ride was silent, his hand on my thigh, going up and down slowly, teasing me and making my arousal go higher than expected.

When he pulled into the driveway of the hotel, parking the car with the same precision he used on track, for a moment, neither of us moved, the air was thick with anticipation, knowing what was to come. He stepped out and walked around to open the door for me, he always does, always the gentleman.

At the door of his hotel room, I could tell that something was different between us and how we were doing this, a change in the dynamic for tonight I don't feel like his best friend but like one of his girls, and I was okay with it.

He opened the door, stepping aside to let me in first, his eyes never leaving my body, undressing me, and once the door is closed behind him, the tension is finally broken but his hand spanking my ass.

"This is exactly what I needed before even the race" He pressed his body against mine and I sighed, I was so turned on that I wasn't even able to form a single sentence.

His fingers move to the zipper of my dress.

"I've been picturing you naked the moment I saw you entering the club" His lips are now on my neck. The dress slips off and I can feel him step back to take a look at me.

His palm meets my ass again and the stinging is for a few seconds but I let out a little whimper.

"Lewis" I whisper, moving unconsciously to undress him, taking his clothes slowly, I guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, I kiss his thighs, feeling absolutely drawn to them. "I need you" I take the final piece of clothing covering him, his boxers.

I position myself aligning his cock with my entrance, making circles on his tip, but he's so desperate he sinks me into his whole length.

"L-lewis" I murmured and he chuckled.

"Are you going to be good today?" he grips my ass, setting the rhythm, slow, teasing me.

"For you? Always" I bite his shoulder, and a whine escapes my throat, needing him to be more aggressive than this softer side of him today.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispers, his tone low and provocative.

I whine in a positive tone.

"I don't want to fuck you today..." He says and my lips find the way to his neck.

"Please?" I try to pick the pace myself, but he keeps me in place, setting the charge of the situation.

"I want to make love to you" his lips against mine are addictive, almost making me forget about how much I needed him to pick up the pace or do something else.

He switches positions and rests my back on the bed, his body hovering over mine.

"Are you going to take me well today?" he moves his hips against mine slowly, his lips going down to pay attention to my breasts, cupping one while his mouth is busy playing with the other, sucking and licking so good had to move away to not finish right here right now.

"Y-yes" I arched my back and I heard him smirk.

"Eager for me to fill you?" his filthy tone is enough to take another whine from me.

My eyes go wide at the phrase.

"What?" I'm surprised to hear him say that.

"Do not play innocent with me" his moves are harder, driving me insane. "We can't be friends" his thrusts are precise and hard, and my eyes are shut closed, wanting to make the moment last. "We can't" he thrust "Not when I want to fill you up with babies" he smirked "How does that sound?" He holds my chin up, "Open your eyes and look at me"

"I'm close" I whisper and hold his hand. "I'm gonna cum"

I open my eyes the second I feel his hands on my shoulders. "Want to have my babies?" He says and that was the final straw. My body shakes. "Hold done a bit more, I'm almost there," He says doing the final thrusts.

I feel his hot cum inside of me as he moves a few times more, both of us getting down from our highs.

"I want you to have my babies" He whispers, knowing this was a desire that he had not only in the heat of the moment. "I'm being for real"

I nod, not actually knowing what to do or what to say.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

HEYY BABES SO CAN U DO A JJ x sister!reader (few years younger, she’s a teen.)

TW: depression, talks of SH, ED, etc…

Basically,

She comes home and seems off and all the pogues know she suffers from depression, and so JJ is like hey bbg (NICKNAMES PLS) and lightly tries to understand what’s going on, and she just kinda pretends nothing is going on. She goes to the bathroom to take anti-depressants and then all of a sudden she just desperately tries to look for something sharp to SH. She can’t find anything in the bathroom, so she slowly falls to the ground, has a breakdown, JJ comes and is all comforting and understanding and then after she explains to him how she almost relapsed, and then she well yeah u can makeup the rest

ℛℯ𝓁𝒶𝓅𝓈ℯ

warnings: depression, mentions of blades, attempted self harm. I am not responsible for what u read.

Masterlist

You raced home to the chateau, your hands shoved into your pockets. You held back your tears, taking a deep breath when you stood in front of the door, hand on the doorknob. You twisted it, immediately being met with the faces of your brother and his friends, all lounging on the couch or the floor, nursing beers and joints.

"Yo, what's up, idiot?" JJ asked you, turning to look. You stared back at him and his friends, before wordlessly making a beeline to the bathroom.

JJ turned around, creasing his eyebrows and shrugging at the odd interaction, chugging a beer. Everyone else seemed just as confused.

Worry began to bubble in his chest, and he tried desperately to push it down. The worry only grew when he heard the noises coming from the bathroom.

You locked the bathroom door, letting the tears silently fall finally, and looking at the medicine cabinet. You were throwing and shoving things around, trying desperately to find it, or anything at this point.

"No, no, no." you murmured under your breath, you couldnt find anything, not a blade or even scissors. Your skin was itching, the urge growing strong. You pulled at your scalp, finally falling against the door, your sobbing becoming louder. You held your hand over your mouth, trying to conceal them, but it was no use.

The urge to do it came suddenly, as soon as you left work actually.

"What the fuck...?" JJ muttered under his breath, all of them turning their heads, the room falling into silence now.

"Go check on her, dude!" Kiara told him, shoving his shoulder and motioning to the door.

JJ walked over to the door, messing with the doorknob. He furrowed his eyebrows, panicked, he rapidly moved the doorknob back and fourth.

"Y/n? Y/n, unlock the fucking door, dude. I'm not messing with you right now." He told you, still messing with the doorknob, then banging on the door.

He thought of the time this happened last time at home, his dad shouting and yelling in the background while Jj worriedly knocked on the door of your bedroom, your dad busting the door open and both of them catching on when they saw the sharp object thrown on the ground.

The banging caused to cover your ears, sobbing louder now.

"Y/n... Please don't tell me you did anything stupid." JJ sighed, you taking your hands away from your ears and wiping your tears. “Unlock the door, kid. Please.”

You slowly stood up, unlocking the door with shaky hands. His eyes went to your wrists, making sure nothing new was there. He sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around you, you continuing to cry into his chest with your arms at your side.

His hands cradled the back of your head, he slowly and quietly closed the bathroom door, giving you both some privacy. He waited until he heard nothing but your sniffles to let go. He grabbed your shoulders, staring at you.

"What happened, kid?"

"I... was working, and..." you paused, sniffling and wiping your nose. "I saw dad come up. He- he fucking came up to me, shouting and cussing at me. He almost got me fired!" You told him, anger lacing your voice. "Then he told me that-that I was the reason mom ran away, and I was the reason his life was so shitty, and tried to guilt trip me into coming back." your face creased up as you began to cry again, hiding your face in JJ's shoulder and grabbing onto his shirt.

“He told me that- that I was a terrible daughter, and he grabbed my wrist and-“

“Alright. Alright. You’re okay. Shh.” He swallowed, hand wrapping around you again. Unsure of what to do, he waited until you stopped crying to talk again.

He motioned for you to sit down on the closed toilet seat, and he sat down on the counter, swinging his feet.

“Dad’s- dad’s an asshole, okay? You know not a word of what he said was true, right? He just wants you to come back so that he can fuckin’ steal your money and have someone to be angry at. Fuckin’ prick.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

You looked unconvinced. He stared at you.

“Nothing he said was true, y/n.” He assured you. “He used to say some of the same things to me. You think I let it get to me? Nah. You wanna know why? Because he is a selfish, druggie, loser addict who no one loves. You’re not gonna be him, because you’re fuckin’ awesome, dude!”

You smiled and let out a nasally laugh, making him smile.

“You’re a wayyyyy better surfer and fisher than he is. And he’s a fuckin’ fisherman! How do you let a teenager beat you at your own job, man?” Your giggle widened his smile, you covering your mouth.

“I mean, shit, I would rather be stuck with you for 100 hours than him for a minute. And you ask anyone out there, they’ll say the same.”

You laughed with JJ, and the bathroom was silent until he spoke up again.

“Don’t do that shit again, okay? Especially not because of a nobody like Luke. Next time he comes to your job or even around you, call me and I’ll come beat his ass.” JJ put up fists, punching the air with grunts.

You laughed at his antics and nodded. “I’m sorry, Jj.”

“Don’t be.”

[cookiescribble]

New In Town

A/N: hey there, to the anon that requested this, I lost your actual submission but I hope this lived up to expectation! I started writing this, forgot I started it, and then got sick but I tried my best haha, enjoy! Happy pride month! - mod ghost

p.s. sorry to mod angel, I definitely called her out in this fic lol 

You had only been at the BAU for about a week, but something about Spencer made you feel like a moth drawn to a flame, as cliche as that might be. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself staring at him during briefings or even just sitting at your respective desks. Watching the way his hands would move over pages as he tore his way through books. His reading speed always amazed you, and you wondered how he actually retained any of the information he was taking in. Yesterday, he’d caught your gaze, making eye contact with you and giving you a polite grin before returning back to whatever it was he’d been doing. Your heart nearly pounded itself out of your chest, which is about when it dawned on you that you definitely had feelings for him. Shit, you thought to yourself briefly. It was probably best to keep this to yourself for now, you’d heard a lot about everything he had been through from the other members of the team and figured it’d be best to leave him alone. Even if you thought this while in private, it didn’t seem to actually stop you from flirting with him. What could possibly go wrong? He’d say no, but that wasn’t terrible. A few days later, you found him at his desk before the team was about to fly off to investigate a new case. You, however, weren’t cleared for field work yet, so you had to work in something before he went,

Gently putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, you leaned in closer to him as you said, “Have a safe flight, pretty boy, I’ll see you when you get back,” then walked off toward Garcia while practically being able to feel his eyes on you. Whether that was a good thing or not, you couldn’t tell, and the idea of having to wait until the team came back stirred up some nervousness that seized in the pit of your stomach but you pushed it aside for now to focus on helping Penelope here in Quantico. “I’m sorry, why is Reid making that face?” She laughed as she all but chased you further down the hall and away from the bullpen.

“I’m fairly certain I just called him pretty boy or something, I don’t know. I might’ve blacked out.” You sighed, averting her gaze as much as possible as you pushed through the door leading to all of her equipment.

“I knew it! You have a crush on Spencer!” Garcia cried in excitement, seconds away from jumping up and down. “Could you yell it any louder?? He might hear you! China might hear you–” You grab her arm as you whisper hurriedly, pulling her through the door and closing it behind her, “--wait, am I really that obvious about it?? Who else knows other than you?” “Mainly us girls, don’t worry. But I might be able to help you, see if he likes you back?” “What, have my own spy crew just for a crush? No way, I’ll get over it.” You brush a hand through your hair in embarrassment and frustration as you and her sit next to each other at her desk. All you could think about was Spencer, though. Nothing that happened throughout the day could fix that. Especially when he called a few hours later to ask for information. Garcia picked up the phone before you could react or steel yourself to the idea of talking to him again. “Hey, tall dark and nerdy, talk to me” She spoke quickly, leaning back in her chair. It made you blush, which you silently cursed her for. “Uh, hey, Garcia,” he paused to chuckle, “I need your help–” “Obviously” You started to get up to escape the room and compose yourself, but, much to your chagrin, he’d heard the background noise over the phone, “Is someone else in there with you?” His voice crackled over the phone line again, which made Penelope stop you from moving, 

“Yes, actually,” She nudged you as she spoke,

“H-uh, Hi, Spence.” You spoke up, trying to sound lighthearted. The idea of speaking to him again this soon seized your heart and made it hard to breathe. 

“Hey…as you can probably hear, I made it here safe. No need to worry.” There was a bit of a teasing tone to his voice. You’d never quite heard him use that tone with you before. Or anyone for that matter. 

Before you had time to process that, they were on to talking about the case again and you were able to escape the situation pretty much unscathed. 

The rest of the team didn’t return until later that week, on a Friday, so Garcia got pizza for everyone to celebrate. 

She came to grab you from your desk and the two of you arrived just in time to see something that stirred up something in you, so deep you think you were possessed by one of your distant descendants.

“You’re cutting pizza with a butter knife?!” You ask incredulously, not meaning to come off so viciously. 

Spencer froze, plastic butter knife still in hand as he stabbed into the pizza. 

“We…We don’t have a pizza cutter here, and some of the slices were kinda stuck together with cheese…” he explained, almost frozen in place as he awkwardly chuckled at the ridiculous nature of the conversation while Garcia couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Sorry, I honestly have no idea what came over me. Let’s uh, let’s dig into this pizza, huh? Now that I’m done getting possessed by my grandma?” You joke, going closer to the table with Penelope and grabbing one of the slices that were…cut. Definitely not sawed apart poorly. He’d tried his best. At this current moment, Spencer Reid was honestly just lucky he was cute. Despite that, you smiled politely and spent time with your found family that is the BAU.

That night, after all the fun was over and it was time to go home for a much needed crash, it had been just you and Spencer. You both volunteered to clean up after everything so that everyone else could go home for some much needed rest and to get a start on their weekend. They tried to insist that they’d help, too, but everyone was tired and it wasn’t that big of a mess so there was no need for everyone to stay. 

You thought it’d be fine, because surely you could be at least somewhat normal around him, right? 

The two of you easily talked and joked the whole time, the energy in the room fairly normal until you both reached for the same pizza box. Your hands brushed together and you instinctively looked up at each other, a similar electric feeling running down both your spines. 

“Oh, I can um…I can grab that.” you speak softly, almost afraid to speak in the sudden intense silence. 

“It’s okay, I got it. It’s the least I could do after you almost stabbed me earlier for my inferior method of cutting pizza.” Spence replied with a soft smile.

“Hey, you were the one with the plastic knife, mister.” 

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” 

“Not as long as I’m here,”

You both broke out into laughter then there were a few moments of just eye contact before you’d started to lean in closer slowly. Like too fast of a movement would scare him away. It seemed like he would, too, but before either of you could touch the other, he quickly stood up and away from you.

“Sorry—um, it’s been a long day. I can take care of taking out the rest of the trash, you don’t have to stick around. Thanks for the help, though.” He says hastily, grabbing one of the two bags of garbage bags that sat by the door and quickly rushing off. 

You sighed to yourself and grabbed your bag, heading out for the night and silently cursing at yourself. If it wasn’t awkward before, it would be now. 

But you just couldn’t help yourself around Spencer, everything about him screamed out to you like some sort of siren call. Every time you weren’t around him, basically anything would remind you of him. 

You just needed to bite the bullet and ask him out, so that’s exactly what you were going to do. The worst he could do was say no, right? 

So the week after that, you had finally worked up some courage. The whole team was at a bar together, Spencer being the only one not drinking as per usual. You, being about two drinks in at this point, had enough of tiptoeing around him. 

It’s now or never, you thought. 

You went over to him while everyone else was doing their own thing in different spots in the bar, so it was just the two of you, and you sat yourself next to him. 

Spencer looked over and smiled kindly at you, his brown doe eyes shining in the dim lighting. Your chest flooded with warm affection as soon as you made eye contact with him, and it made you that much more sure about this. 

“Hey, having fun?” he asked cheerfully, the happiest you’d heard him in a while. Since you’d started working at the BAU, you’d realize when you thought about this moment later. 

“Yeah, but um…I really need to ask you something, Spence.” 

“Oh? By all means, go ahead,” he gestures for you to continue, turning his body toward yours to give you his full attention. 

“Okay so…um…I…I like you. Like, I really like you—“ you started to say, before he interjected. 

“This isn’t sounding like a question”

“Spencer, please”

“Sorry, go on” he sheepishly smiled, apparently having fun teasing you a little. 

“Thank you, but I uhh…shit—“ you cursed. 

“You were saying you really like me?” 

“Right—so, I was wondering…if…if you’d want to…maybe…go out sometime? With me?”

“We…are out,” he gestured to the bar around the two of you, “right now.” 

“That’s not what I mean—“

“I know what you mean, and I…I’m not sure.”

“What?”

“I’ve had a lot happen to me recently, between going to jail and everything that happened with Cat, as well as everything else and our jobs themselves…I’m not sure I have room to have someone else in my life. No matter how much I like you, too.” 

You nearly gasped when he said he liked you, too, but you held it back. This was the most emotionally vulnerable he’d ever been around you. You weren’t going to take advantage of that. 

“Well…” you take his hand in both of yours, holding it close to your chest. “We could take things slow…ride things out, y’know? But that’s only if you want to. I’m here to make sure you’re happy. Whether it’s with me or not.”

He stared at you silently for a moment, considering everything you’d just told him. He kept glancing from your eyes to your lips, as if he was contemplating at a speed your slightly buzzed mind wasn’t quite up to keeping up with. 

Before you could speak or even think further on it, he was leaning forward and speaking low enough that only you would be hearing it. 

“Let’s go, let’s go back to my place. We’ll talk about this more, I just can barely hear myself think with the music in here.” 

You nodded and stood up from the booth, both of you waving goodbye to the rest of the team with gentle smiles before walking off. 

Back at his apartment, he barely had the door closed 5 minutes before he was kissing you. 

So much for talking things through. 

The way his lips pressed to yours felt passionate, desperate even. Like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time. You let yourself relax into it, your hand drifting up to tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about kissing him just made you want to lose yourself in him until you weren’t sure where each of you ended and began. 

Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pulled away, taking in deep breaths and pushing his hair back away from his face but still close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face. 

“Sorry, that…I shouldn’t have—“

Before he could finish, you were pulling him back in for more. He wasn’t about to get away with a kiss like that with just a simple ‘sorry’. Not if you had anything to say about it. 

The two of you ended up tangled together in his bed for the rest of the night, the blanket gently wrapped around you both in a comfortable silence. 

Talking could wait, for now you were just…together, and that was more than enough.

[novashelby]

Quick Shot~A Tommy Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: smut, p in v, gun talk, language, insinuated gun use, dub con

Summary: To get away, Tommy visits a pub outside of Birmingham. The barmaid is quite interested in his gun and he makes her a little promise. *I got a request for a smut when Tommy teaches reader how to shoot. But there is quite a few one shots like that, so I made something inspired by it. If the person who requested doesn't like this, please request again. :)

Please reblog and comment. Likes are so kind, but reblogs and comments are much more helpful to a writer. :) Please also enjoy!

“Target practice, Mr. Shelby?” she had asked as her hand quickly swiped down at the wooden counter. Little specks of soapy water hit his steam pressed sports jacket. He didn’t mind. Tommy Shelby knew what he was getting into in a pub such as that one. The Garrison was his go-to, but when he wanted to drink in complete solitude while still enjoying background noise, he went to a shabby one in an outskirt village. The barmaid had a bit more edge and hardly cared who he was. Admittedly, he found it to be refreshing. She grinned at him, placing the wet rag at her hip. “Forgetting to leave your big boy toys at home, eh?” The barmaid also lacked the Brummie tongue. 

Amused, his lips paused at the rim of his glass as his eyes fluttered upward. “Haven’t been home yet. Too busy.”

“Doing?” She pried a little bit more than the usual woman would. Though to her defense, she only knew Tommy Shelby, the factory owner. Not Tommy Shelby the gangster.  

He pulled the glass away from his lips, raising it to her. “Drinking!” he said, a sarcastic undertone that felt so comfortably familiar to her. He’d been going there on an off for a good two years if she had to calculate it. But there were so many faces that came and went, it was hard to tell. He, too, would leave at some point. Another lonely, lost man will take his seat and just like that, all over again, she’d have to become acquainted with another. 

She took an empty glass, and chuckled as she raised it. “To drinking-”

“But you aren’t-”

“I can’t,” she said, placing it back down in its proper spot. She went back to drying the counter, swiping it left to right with a new rag, trying to be mindful of his arm. “Sorry,” she mumbled when it lightly braised his propped elbow. 

Tommy Shelby lazily looked down at his elbow before fluttering his eyes upward. He always wore that sneaky little grin when he wasn’t completely serious. Unfortunately over the years, he had lost it along the way. Less to be amused about and more to be serious about, he assumed. But there, with her, almost alone in an empty pub, he wore it once more. The time was dwindling on the gray line of open and closed. But he showed no interest in leaving and she didn’t care. “Oh no, that was just unacceptable. You’ve done it this time.”

“Hmm, someone as witty as you, Mr. Shelby, I’d thought I would have received a better comeback. You’re slipping,” she said, matching his grin. They took a little pause, having a silent tango; eyes connecting, facial expression matching. When he wiggled his brows up in a quizzical look, she took no shame in mocking him. Neither a girl or woman in Birmingham would dare. But he found comfort in her antics. He wasn’t the Tommy Shelby, but just Tommy Shelby. It was the closest to pre-war Tommy he could get. 

“I’m getting old,” he said, finishing off his glass. She was quick to turn for the whiskey bottle and top him off before he even asked. Tommy was mid stand, ready to leave when she made the silent gesture for him to stay. “I’m driving-”

“And I’m walking,” she said, quick. Once again, they stopped their mundane, routine acts to share a little stare and chuckle. “Plus, you didn’t seem like you were ready to leave. I spared you the awkwardness of saying goodbye.” When he objected, claiming that she must be tired and that home was calling, she told him, “you want to stay more than I have the urge to leave, Mr. Shelby. Plus, I’m curious about you in a way I can’t be curious about on the clock-”

“That’s dangerous,” he accused, sipping at the brown poor man’s liquor. She hung up the rag for the night and locked the door. He had to wait for her to wash her hands of work before she joined him on the chair next to him. “Knowing too much of me is like a curse, and you’re only young-”

“Not as young as you think,” she said, taking his glass and sipping it lightly. His look said I thought you don’t drink. “It was hardly a sip for taste. Besides, from all your mystery, perhaps I may need a few sips.” Tommy slid it back to her, allowing her to have the rest. “I’m twenty-”

He cut her off, leaning in, “I have you beat by a good fourteen years.” Tommy enjoyed the aged old compliment. You look good for your age, but she never gave it to him. Only took continual sips of liquor because she can’t drink. She giggled to herself. He cut her off before she could add the eight to her age. 

Though after a while, she did say, “I heard thirty-four is the new twenty-two. But that isn’t actually what I meant by prying into your business. Hardly care about your logistics like age and birthday, Mr. Shelby. I want to know the fun stuff.” That made him laugh, but she wasn’t laughing. When he tried to protest, saying nothing about him was fun per se, her hand teased at his knee for a moment, lingering there casually. Tommy cocked a brow, mouth slightly agape. He slowly dropped his eyes, watching her fingers spread over his knee, finger tips pressing in. She was entranced by how she so casually came up on him, he hardly heard what she said. “Like what you use that gun for.” 

It was a good minute or so before he answered, as her fingers inched up past his knee, resting more on his mid-thigh. “You shouldn’t really ask what a man uses his gun for, love,” he said, in a mere, barely audible whisper. His eyes never left her hand, watching, patiently waiting to see what her intent was. It was entirely possible she was just being friendly, he thought, never previously considering the pretty barmaid. The ring on his left hand banned him from that. 

“Should I be worried you’re out shooting people and not targets?” she asked, leaning her head down to make him look at her. “Hmm?” 

“Depending on who you ask, people can be targets, too,” he said, finding him doing something that he hadn’t done to anyone other than his wife in a long time. His arms found their way around her waist to pull her in from the chair she’d been sitting on. I’m not usually a lap lady, she said as he rested her over his lap. It was his turn to feel over her thigh and lay it to rest on the inner most part. Her arms loosely hung over his shoulders. 

“That sounds like I should be sliding off your lap, Mr. Shelby,” she teased, eyes glancing to the hunk of dangerous metal strapped to his hip. “Isn’t it strange…being so close to something so lethal?” She dropped one hand to touch it but he was quick to grab her hand, his trust not being fully there with anyone. Startled, she turned her direction back to him. His fingers curled over hers, pressing with a warning. Her fingertips were turning slightly white.  She opened her mouth to speak.

He stopped her, tone turning a bit forceful. “You didn’t ask. You want to touch my gun?”  Her eyes went from flirty to startled to doe-like very quickly. She nodded and he let go of her hand to unstrap his gun and take it out. Her breath hitched as he raised it between their faces. Taunting her, his finger looped around the trigger, caressing it. She went to hold it over his hand, but he stopped her. “But you have to touch something else first-”

“Mr. Shelby,” she snorted, putting her hand down. “Thought you had more class than that. Aren’t you too old to be playing those boy games-”

Perhaps stupidly, he placed his gun on the counter, where she could easily reach it. Or maybe he was confident she wouldn’t. That he’d be good enough for her to be preoccupied with. “What boy games?” he teased, pulling her in more, making her legs rest over the sides of his so she was facing him. Taunting, teasing circles were rubbed on her back over her white blouse. He knew he was being childish in the last spot he could be childish. “Hm?” His fingers felt along her back traveling over her hips. Her breath was caught in her throat. It’d been quite sometime since a man laid their hands so intimately over her body expressing the need for her and solely her. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a boost in ego. Palms pressed against her stomach, he felt upward. Each little centimeter closer to her breasts, her fingers tensed. But he skipped over them, going for her arms instead. He knew what she was thinking. The disappointed rush of an exhale exposed all her secrets. 

“You’re playing a game right now.” She pressed into him a bit harder feeling the tent in his trousers poke at her inner thigh. He chuckled as she told him things he already knew. Tommy Shelby was in no rush to go home. Besides, he needed to fuck off the drunken buzz in his head.

Their foreheads touched and he wasted no time, leaning in to trap her bottom lip between his teeth. He couldn’t kiss her. As bad is sounded, he wasn’t going to kiss another woman, but he was going to fuck her. Not just fuck her, but run his hands over her body, touching each and every crevice and space. “It’s been awhile,” he said, half apologetically in response as he pulled back. Her lips wore a reddened shade from where he bit. There was some sort of silent agreement where she understood it. She understood what it was. Her and him, pressed up against one another. It was a fuck and only a fuck, leaving traces of romantic intimacy at the door.

Impatiently, she bunched up her skirt, placing it over her knees. As she fumbled with the fabric, she asked him, “Are you going to be greedy then?” What an insulting thing to ask, he thought, but instead of answering her, he slipped his hand under her, pressing his palm against her cotton white panties. Challenging her, he cocked a brow as if to ask, do I seem the type? She lifted her hips a bit to give him some room to slip her underwear off to the side before sliding his hand over. “Mr. Shelby,” she gasped out in anticipation. 

Smiling to himself, he felt over her wet folds with his two forefingers, before slipping beneath the outer folds. “Still Mr. Shelby, eh?” As if it was an order, she immediately responded with Tommy. Doing the same thing as she did to her breasts, he touched everywhere except where she wanted to be touched. It was amusing as she shifted and rolled around her hips, trying to take control of the situation she was never meant to have control of. His fingers lightly danced over the flesh around her clit and vagina, purposefully avoiding any hope. When she got a little too pushy, he pulled away, using the same hand to cradle her throat just tight enough to hold her in place. “Don’t be greedy,” he mocked with a stern tone, using her same lingo. He leaned in, lips hovering over her temple. Little ghost kisses haunting her desires. Pathetic, perhaps, but a tiny fear hung over her. What if he wasn’t going to fuck her was a nagging thought. 

“Fuck me,” she said abruptly, not even sure how or why the words came out the way they did. “I need you to fuck me-”

“And I need you to be patient,” he said, palms finding their way back to her tummy going straight for her breasts barely contained by her buttoned blouse. A long string of moans sang from her lips as he cupped them over her clothing, squeezing decently hard. Nipples perked, he teased them in circles with his finger tips. “You asked me not to be greedy,” he teased, tongue flicking at her earlobe. “But I think you should take your advice, hm? Or do you think that doesn’t apply to you because you’re a woman, eh?” Stopping his groping, he started with the top button, painfully slow. One by one he undid them, allowing the cool pub air to touch her chest. Tommy didn’t even have the chance to slip it down her shoulders, feeling her goose bumped arms before she had torn it off and tossed it somewhere beside them. 

“No,” she said, grinding down her hips, wet slick soiling his trousers. “I’m horny and you’re being an ass...I asked you to fuck me. Are you going to fuck me or are you going to leave me like this?” Amused by her assertiveness, he sat back and grinned. She mocked it. “It’s been awhile.”

“Really? A pretty girl like you working in a pub?” he challenged, not believing her. “Surely you have a twisted idea of time. What’s awhile? A month-”

“Two years,” she confused, fingers undoing his belt, cursing at the clasp. He didn’t believe her, but chose not to press the reasoning. In the grand scheme of shit, it didn’t matter. Instead, he helped her with his trousers, undoing his buttons and pulling down the zipper. “I got it,” she fussed, pushing his hand out of the way. Tommy watched as she pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock out. 

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, scoping her up from under ass before positioning his cock. But he wouldn’t allow her to slam down. Gently, he teased at the entrance with his tip, saying, “just the tip.”

“You didn’t even finger me,” she teased back. “Selfish arse!”

“Maybe when I hit a target with my gun.”

“A still one?” she snorted, finding her way to leave playful bites along his jawline. 

“A breathing one,” he said, and before she could react, slamming himself upward, balls hitting her backside. He held her there, studying her face. It was nothing, but a silent scream. A part of him felt a tinge of guilt that he hardly prepped the poor girl, but all her selfish antics made him a bit greedy. “You feel it? This is exactly what you begged for-”

“I said don’t be-”

“Greedy?” he teased, cupping her fragile cheek with one hand as his other teasingly rolled her nipple between his fingers. He rolled up his hips meeting her aching cervix. The pain radiated through her lower half, sending up a searing heat. She hissed, digging her fingernails into his sports coat covered arms. Too deep, she winced through her clenched teeth. “Yeah?” he asked, fake concern lingering, lightly jutting forward, pressing deeper just to watch the painful facial expression laid on her face. “You’re brat…I don’t like brats.”

“Mr. Shelby,” she whined, twitching around him. Pleading, she wanted him to ease. Which he obliged, and lifted her up a bit, pulling himself back. When she regained her composure, she took the wheel and rolled her hips into him; sliding up and down, attempting to slide her hand down to her throbbing clit, but he caught it. 

“No, no,” he said, clasping her hand in his, keeping it there. She was about to complain, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, just keep riding me…relax me. I’ve had a long day.” She nodded, resting her other hand on his shoulder for support as she raised her hips, a moan stuck in the back of her throat, feeling his thick cock sliding up and down her needy walls. He rested back, his breaths becoming ragged and hitched. She giggled when he rolled his head back, allowing her hand to slip from his grasp. But she was a good girl and didn’t dare touch her clit. She placed it on his other shoulder for support.

She circled her hips, watching his lip quiver stealing his grin. “Am I in charge, now?” she asked in a gasped, speeding up her pace, bouncing up and down. His eyes hazily watched her breasts follow along, taking one in each hand. He massaged them, fingers teasing at the nipples; pulling, pinching, flicking. It sent a perfect tingle down her spine. “Shit,” she gasped, leaning down, resting their foreheads together. It wasn’t supposed to be intimate. It’s just sex. But they kept eye contact, relaxing into each other's rhythms. 

“I’ll play along,” he said, licking up at her lips, but when she went to kiss him, he turned his head. “Keep ridin’ me.” He demanded her in a bathless gasp, getting impatient. He wanted a quick release. She let out a needy cry, begging him why when he slipped his hands from her sensitive breasts down to her hips, gripping them tightly. His knuckles turned white as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. Hard enough she could have sworn she felt him touching her hip bone. 

“Yes, sir,” she mocked, going faster; slamming down on him and enjoying the way his moans were deep and throaty. He jutted up, meeting her in her dips. Tommy’s thrusts got messy the faster they were. It was as if they were competing with who can go the fastest. No, who can wear the other one out first. It was her, of course. She wasn’t going to come from this and he selfishly knew that, enjoying the way her pussy felt around him. “Tommy!” She cried out, holding herself closer to his chest.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” he said, sliding his lips down her neck to bite at her shoulder, growling. “Shit.” It was muffled and low. Rudely, he repeatedly slammed into her cervix, hardly giving her time to breathe and ease it as he felt his climax approach.

She pulled her face away from him and gripped his jaw. “Not in me,” she warned.

“No?” he laughed in breaths. “Where do you want it, huh? Your tits? Belly? Your arse?” He gave her ass a generous squeeze before reaching up and tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back slightly. He felt his climax near, slowing his thrusts just enough to slip from her cunt. “Fuck!” He cursed, tugging his cock one handedly. A deep red flushed over her cheeks as she felt a stream of hot cum spray up her back and drip down over her ass. “Shit,” he moaned, out, closing his eyes to catch his breath. “Fookin’ ‘ell.” She slumped against him, sweaty and hot, but he didn’t allow her to rest long, pushing her off. “I have to get goin’, love,” he said, patting her cheek. 

“So you really are going to leave me like this?” she asked, referring to her lack of orgasm.

Tommy Shelby slid from his chair and fixed his trousers. “I told you, I hit a target and I’ll give the lady what she needs.” He winked, grabbing his gun from the counter. 

She laughed as if he was being humorous. He hardly said good night as he left. He wasn’t a weekly regular, but perhaps bi-weekly. Every other week he’d come in for the same thing; a whiskey neat. But it was going on three weeks then sooner or later a whole season passed without Tommy Shelby. But it was normal. People came and went, and she cursed herself each time she became attached to one person’s presence. 

However one night a few too many weeks later he came in as she was cleaning up. Through the reflection in a dark whiskey bottle, she saw him take a seat. A metal clink echoed the empty pub as he put down his gun. “We’re closed-”

“I’m not here for a drink,” he said. 

“I’m closed,” she said, not forgiving his selfish quick shot. 

He chuckled. “Say, love, do you prefer the feeling of a man's firm hand or soft tongue?” She froze, fingers knotting in the wet rag she used to clean the glasses. Swallowing, she turned to see the gun first then spots of red on his white shirt. Nervously, she looked up his arm to his face that wore specks of red. “Perhaps both at the same time-”

“Mr. Shelby-”

“C’mere,” he demanded, not asked. “And I’ll show you how much of a man of my word I am.”

[lovingdynamight]

✦ He can be nice ✦

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Background: Bakugo x f!reader, established relationship, period comfort, fluff, Bakugo being nice

Summary: you had never had to many issues with your period you know, always had mild cramps and usually were able to function pretty normally; but this time it was different cramps were horrible plus you had somehow contracted a head ache.

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The common room was peaceful, the steady hum of a movie playing in the background as you dozed on the couch. You had just got your period and Mina thought that it would be a good tides to watch your guy’s favorite movie. The cramps were relentless, and your headache made it impossible to focus on anything, but at least the warmth of the blanket and Mina’s quiet presence beside you helped.

That peace, however, didn’t last.

The door burst open with a loud bang, followed by the unmistakable voices of Kirishima, Denki, and, of course, Bakugo.

“Man, I’m telling you, I almost had it!” Denki groaned dramatically.

Kirishima laughed. “Bro, you were so far off, you nearly face-planted into the ground.”

“Tch, because he’s a damn idiot,” Bakugo scoffed, voice sharp and far too loud.

Mina shot them all a glare. “Guys, shh! Y/N’s sleeping.”

“Ok cool, but like if Kirishima hadn’t pulled me off I would’ve nailed it,” Denki mumbled, but none of them actually quieted down.

“If I wouldn’t have pulled you off you would’ve died,” Kirishima replied a little loudly.

“Either way he’s a damn idiot you should’ve let him fall,” Bakugo says with his usual gruff, loud voice.

Their voices kept rising, their laughter echoing off the walls, and despite Mina’s best efforts to shush them, they just wouldn’t listen.

The noise pulled you from your restless sleep, and before you were even fully awake, a fresh wave of pain surged through your body. Your head throbbed, your stomach twisted, and as you forced your eyes open, Bakugo’s voice cut through everything.

“The hell are you sleeping for in the middle of the day?”

That was it.

“Shut up, Bakugo!” you snapped, sitting up so fast your head spun.

The room went silent.

Bakugo blinked at you, clearly not expecting you to bite back like that. His brows furrowed. “Oi, what’s your problem?”

“My problem is you barging in here, yelling for absolutely no reason, so for once shut up,” you snapped, your voice sharp with irritation.

The anger in your voice caught him off guard, but you didn’t stick around to see his reaction. With a frustrated huff, you threw off the blanket and pushed yourself off the couch, ignoring the way your legs felt unsteady beneath you.

“Y/N, wait—” Mina reached for you, but you were already walking away.

“Whatever,” you muttered, storming off toward your dorm room without looking back.

The second your door shut behind you, you exhaled sharply, pressing a hand against your aching forehead. All you wanted was some peace. Was that too much to ask?

“Trouble in paradise,” Denki said raising an eyebrow.

“Shit the fuck up!” Bakugo yelled “Pinky what’s wrong with her?”

Mina sighed shaking her head “you know what figure it out Bakugo because I told you to keep it down but you didn’t want to listen,” she walked over pulling Kirishima out the room with her to hang out and get at him for being loud when she said not to.

The moment you shut your door, you let out a long sigh, curling up beneath your blankets. Your body ached, your head pounded, and the lingering frustration from earlier made it impossible to relax.

You knew Bakugo hadn’t meant to piss you off. But between the cramps, the exhaustion, and the loud voices that had jolted you awake, it had been too much.

A little while later there was a knock at your door.

You sighed. “Go away.”

The door creaked open anyway.

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. Heavy footsteps, the rustle of his hoodie, the scent of caramel and smoke—Bakugo.

The bed dipped as he sat down beside you, but he didn’t say anything at first. He just sat there, arms crossed, knee bouncing slightly.

“…Still mad?” he muttered.

You sighed again, rolling onto your back to look at him. He wasn’t meeting your eyes, staring at a spot on the floor instead. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight.

“No,” you admitted. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well… I was bein’ an ass.”

You let out a small, tired laugh. “Yeah, you were.”

Bakugo exhaled sharply, finally glancing at you. His gaze flickered over your face, lingering on the crease in your brow, the exhaustion in your eyes.

“…You still feel like shit?” He said cautiously moving a little bit of hair out your face resting the waters.

You huffed. “Like I got hit by a bus.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Then, wordlessly, he shifted—kicking off his shoes before climbing into bed beside you. He tugged you against his chest, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. His other hand slipped beneath your hoodie, resting warm and firm against your lower stomach.

You inhaled sharply, but not from pain this time. His warmth seeped into your skin, soothing the worst of your cramps almost instantly.

“…Bakugo?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Go to sleep.”

You rested your head against his chest, your fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath it, and the sensation was calming. The anger and frustration from earlier seemed so distant now, replaced by the quiet comfort of his embrace.

You tilted your head up, catching his gaze, and despite how much you wanted to thank him, the words escaped you. Instead, you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

He froze for a moment, surprised, but when his gaze softened, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—just slow, tender, like he was giving you the space to feel safe. His hand moved gently to the back of your neck, keeping you close.

When the kiss broke, he muttered, “Better now?”

You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah.”

He kissed the top of your head again, his fingers tracing soft circles against your skin. “Good.”

The pain didn’t vanish completely, but between his warmth, his steady breathing, and the comfort of his arms, it was a hell of a lot easier to ignore.

You closed your eyes, feeling your body relax into him. This time, when sleep came, it was peaceful.

“Love you y/n” he grumbled like he was being forced to say it.

“Love you too kats”

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Thanks for reading. All works done by me. Reblogs comments and likes are encouraged and appreciated