#are we all meant to just firm it and shrug it off and just let him do and say whatever

[lovebugism]

“you were outside for one minute, how can you be dying of hypothermia?” with Steve and ditsy reader🥹

ty for requesting! — you walk in the freezing cold to ask steve if he would still love you if you were a worm (ditzy!fem!r, established relationship, 1.6k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Your arrival is marked, first, by an ignored knock. 

Steve’s lazing on his couch, heavy with post-work exhaustion, with his resident schmuck slouched at his side. Robin acknowledges the tapping at his door before he does. “You gonna get that?” she mumbles, mostly uncaring and partly distracted by the TV.

Steve shrugs, unblinking. “It’s probably just a package or something.”

“Or maybe it’s your girlfriend,” she retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm as she turns to him with wide ocean eyes. “Remember her?”

Steve scoffs. “She said she wasn’t coming over today… Why do you think you’re here?”

Robin would punch him in the shoulder if she wasn’t so tired. “Asshole,” she mutters under her breath.

Another knock echoes down the foyer. This time, followed by a voice — muffled and achingly familiar. “Can somebody let me in before I die out here?” 

Steve jumps off the couch without thinking, filled suddenly with newfound life and distant horror. He vaguely hears Robin mumble “told ya” as he rushes to the door. 

He wrenches it open with an iron grip around the knob. He’s smacked in the face by the bitter breeze waiting on the other side. Snow falls from heavy clouds, swirling with freezing wind, and you’re standing out in the middle of it all.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Steve blurts. Not because he’s unhappy to see you, but because it’s basically a tundra outside, and you’ve got on the thinnest jacket he’s ever seen.

Your brows pinch as your face swirls something pitiful. Eyes wide and glassy, you blink snowflakes from your lashes. “Dying of hypothermia,” you murmur into your knit scarf, shrinking into your crossed arms.

Steve manages a small laugh. “Okay, you were outside for one minute. You’re not dying of anything— now get in here before you freeze.” He ushers you in with a warm hand pressed against the small of your back. “And I meant, what are you doing here? You said you were staying home ‘cause of the snow.

“I had a very important question to ask you,” you insist while he helps you peel off your jacket and scarf. Crystalline flakes fall from the fabric and onto the hardwood, melting almost instantly.

He hangs both on the rack for you. “You walked half a mile in the snow to ask me a question? Why didn’t you just call?”

“‘Cause it’s too important— I had to see you first.”

Your pout is childlike and firm. Steve concedes with a nod. “Okay. Well, uh— Robin’s here. Is that okay?”

You’re beaming almost instantly, forgetting about the boy entirely as you duck past him and down the entrance hall. You find Robin slumped on his sofa, still in her Family Video vest because unbuttoning it was too much work. Her bitten lips curl into a smile at the sight of you, the ball of sunshine Steve’s trying to tame.

“Are you guys having a sleepover?” you ask, all giddy at the thought.

She leans her elbows along the back of the couch and shrugs. “Well, we were. But since you’re here, I’m thinking we should just kick Stevie out.”

“Yeah. No. Not happening,” Steve deadpans as he appears behind you. He guides you towards the stairs with a warm arm around your shoulder. “C’mon— Let’s go.”

You pout. “Wait. Where are we going?”

“To get you some fresh clothes. I just got a load outta the dryer— Remember when you said you were freezing?”

“I’m past freezing, Stevie. I’m dying.” You groan and lean much of your body weight into the boy beside you. He laughs and carries it no problem.

“I’ll warm you up. You’ll be okay.”

He gets you into his bedroom and starts taking off your clothes. “At least take me out to dinner first,” you quip in a tiny voice as he pulls your sweater up and over your head. He scoffs and replaces it with a sweatshirt. Hissweatshirt. From the laundry basket full of fresh clothes he hasn’t folded yet. Then he sets you on the edge of his bed and tugs your jeans down your thighs, only to put a warm pair of baggy sweatpants over them again.

There’s something distinctly domestic, you think, about someone taking off your clothes only to put fresh ones on you again.

And then, even though he knows you’re perfectly fine, Steve cuddles with you under the sheets of his bed for a moment. He says it’s to help you warm up faster — “‘cause you were dying, remember?” But really, he’d just missed you. In a very simple, human way. And it feels good to hold you to his chest like this.

“Feel better?” he asks, filling the silence of his bedroom, chin bobbing against your head.

“I feel more alive now. If that’s what you’re asking,” you answer.

“Less than an icicle?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, you’re the cutest damn icicle I’ve ever seen—” He pulls just far enough way to see your face, smiling when he finds you grimacing at his dumb attempt at flirting. He plants a chaste kiss on your pouted mouth. A low smack fills the bedroom. You’re beaming all over again when he’s gone.

“What was your question again?”

Mouth still sparkling with longing, your face swirls with confusion. “Huh?”

“You said you came over to ask me something.”

“Oh, yeah!” you shout, wiggling out of his hold to face him more. You grow suddenly serious — as serious as a person like you can be, anyway. You talk wildly with your hands as you ramble. “Well, I was at the trailer earlier, and I was talking to Eddie, and I’m pretty sure he was high—”

“Figures,” Steve scoffs.

“—‘Cause outta nowhere he was like, ‘Would you still love me if I was a worm?’ And I was like, ‘Yeah. Obviously. I mean, I’d be sad about it and everything, but I’d still take you everywhere with me.’”

“He might be easier to tolerate that way,” he jokes, pink lips curled into a small smile.

You don’t seem to hear it.

“And then I thought— ‘Oh my god, what about Steve? Like, would he still wanna be my boyfriend if some evil witch turned me into a worm?’ And it really freaked me out, and Eddie was zero help, and then I got so sick about it that I had to come over here and ask you.”

You don’t take a single breath until you’ve vomited all the words out.

Steve — equal parts impressed and worried by you — nods slowly and with wide honey eyes. He calculates carefully what to say, lest the wrong thing spill from his mouth and send you spiraling all over again. “Okay… Well… For starts, yes, I would still love you.”

He swears you breathe a sigh of relief then.

“But like… Can I ask why you got turned into a worm?” he wonders with pinched brows.

“The optics don’t matter,” you insist girlishly.

“Right. Well. Can the evil witch-woman turn me into a worm, too? Or is that against the rules?”

Your doe eyes begin to sparkle, wide and full of hope. “You’d wanna be a worm with me?” you wonder in a tiny voice, distant with disbelief.

Steve scoffs. “Of course, I would. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere without you.”

You knock the breath from his lungs when you lurch suddenly forward. Chest against chest, your arms wrench tight around his neck. He’s stunned for one moment, then hugging you back the very next. His wide palms rest warm along your spine. He manages a laugh despite being halfway strangled.

“I mean, think about it. I could spend the rest of my life hugging you like this if we were a couple of worms.”

“Well, you’re gonna do that anyway,” you quip, muffled into his neck.

Steve hums. “Touché.”

You pull away from him after a moment or more, serious all over again. There’s a firm furrow to the center of your brow and an unsmiling glint in your eye. “We have to set ground rules, though. Just in case.”

“Of course,” the boy concurs, fighting back a smile.

“If I get turned into a worm, and you couldn’t be one with me, what would you do?”

“Like… If I wake up and there’s just… A worm on your pillow?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, face pinching ‘cause he’s really thinking hard. “I’d be really sad.”

“But what would you do with me?”

“I’d get you a tank or something. Or, like, a little necklace to put you in— so I can carry you around everywhere.” He figures that’s the most perfect solution to this wildly unlikely situation, given the risk he couldn’t be there with you. Then your pout deepens, and he second guesses. “Is that okay?”

He can’t believe he’s entertaining this at all, really, but you’re worrying’s got him stressed about it, too.

“I want you to hold me in your hand,” you tell him, quiet and sincere.

Steve nods. “Deal.”

“…And hold me at eye level at all times.”

He laughs before he can stop it. “Sure.”

You start to smile, but don’t let yourself. “But how would you find me?”

“If you got turned into a worm?”

You nod, slow like a sheepish child. “How would you know which worm was me?”

“I’d find you,” he insists.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve scoffs with a shrug, mostly uncaring because the idea of finding you has never worried him before. There isn’t a world where the two of you aren’t together. Even in the infiniteness of time and all its parallel existences, Steve thinks you’ve found each other in every single one. 

“I’d always find you. In every universe,” he assures, wearing a crooked smile on his lips when he boops the tip of your nose with his finger. “And out of every worm.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Accident II

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Gorry!Reader

Summary: Lunch with your sister

It wasn't often that Kyra got scared of Mini. Sure, Mini got annoyed at her sometimes but it was never like this.

Kyra ducked to hide behind her menu, unwilling to make eye contact as you chattered away to your sister.

Mini nodded along with whatever you were saying but it was clear she wasn't fully focussed on you. All of her attention was firmly on the hand of yours that Kyra was currently death gripping.

She thought, briefly, about dropping it but then she realised that it was the only thing keeping her in even the same country as the awkward interaction that was brewing. If she let go now, she would be out the door sprinting back to Australia the first chance that she got.

Kyra tightened her grip.

You noticed, smiling at her before you refocused on your sister.

"So," Mini said, her first words since you all settled down at the table," How did you two meet?"

"At the pub. We-"

"No," Mini laughed fondly at you," I want to hear it from Kyra."

You didn't seem to find the malice in her tone so you just nodded, pivoting so you were facing Kyra.

Her throat bobbed, suddenly feeling parched. She cleared her throat. "Well...Katie and Caitlin took me to a pub after one of our matches. I tripped..." Kyra pointedly left out that she had tripped and landed her lips upon yours. "And we just started talking."

Mini nodded. "Hmm, okay." Her eyes narrowed briefly as she stared at Kyra before turning back to you. "And you," She said," All it took to get you into football was dating one of my teammates?"

You grinned. "I wouldn't go that far. I just like supporting Kyra."

Mini's gaze returned to Kyra again as you slipped off into the bathroom. Kyra wondered briefly if she should have gotten up to go with you because being alone with Mini right now felt like a nightmare come to life.

She shrunk under Mini's gaze and busied herself with sipping her drink.

"That's my baby sister, Kyra," Mini said, her tone firm like the one she used to tell off Harper.

"I didn't know at the time," Kyra replied," Honest! I would have told you if I knew!"

"Would you?"

Kyra winced. Now that she thought about it, no, she probably wouldn't have told Mini that she was dating you. "I would!" She lied.

"You would have what?" You chose that moment to return to the table, drying off your hands as you slipped into your seat.

"Kyra was just telling me that she would have happily told me that you two were dating if she'd known we were related."

You scrunched up your nose. "I wouldn't have," You said," You're scary sometimes, Kat. If I'd known you two already knew each other then I would have hidden this for longer."

Mini scoffed. "Yeah? And why's that?"

You shrugged. "You're scary," You repeated," You scared off people I wasn't even dating. I don't want you to run off Kyra too. I love her."

Mini rolled her eyes and Kyra grabbed your hand again.

She was worried, you knew this but you'd had years of practice with Katrina to know when to stand your ground. To Katrina, you'd always been (and probably always would be) her immature little sister. You'd always had to stand your ground to get her to take you seriously.

She stared at you, eyes narrowing in an attempt to get you to submit to her will. You had to admit, ever since having Harper, Katrina had perfected the mum look - having practised on you for years.

You stared back, unwilling to even blink.

Kyra looked between you both, a chill running up her spine at the battle of wills you were locked into.

"Er..."

"If she hurts you, I'll kill her," Mini promised you. It seemed like a threat that was meant to go to Kyra but she said it to you instead.

You shrugged. "As if I'd let you find her."

"Good."

"Good."

You picked up your menu. "I'm thinking gammon."

Mini picked up her menu too. "Funny, I was leaning more towards the eggs."

Kyra sat there in shock as she stared, eyes wide. "Wait, is that it?"

You frowned. "Sorry, I should have asked. Kyra, what did you want? I assumed we were going to share. Did you want something else?"

Your words didn't solve Kyra's shock at all and she was left to scramble for what she wanted on the menu.

[withahappyrefrain]

I ALMOST MISSED THIS?!

“You’re a sweetheart” “Believe me, I’m really not” + Jake Seresin pls? 🥰

FE YES THIS IS SO HIM also would you like a little Jake and Venus AU? We got some language and sub!Jake here aka my favorite

Jake Seresin had a routine.

Step one, find who he wanted to talk to have for the night. Not someone who was clinging to the corner (they were for Bob), but also not the life of the party. He didn't like to share.

Step two, make eye contact. Sometimes Jake would be able to make it happen with the power of his lustful stare. Sometimes it meant playing pool at a different table or going up to the bar.

Tonight it meant going up to the bar, to order his drink loudly, ramping up his accent and 'yes m'am's to Penny. He didn't mind, he loved the spotlight.

Once eye contact was made, he could move on to step three. Bring her a drink.

He noticed she had ordered a gin and tonic at the bar. Jake practically strutted to her table, feeling confident that he would be walking out of here with the woman of the night in less than an hour.

"Howdy darlin'. I've always been told a lady should never have an empty glass. May I?" Jake pointed to her first drink, which was nearly empty.

She pursed her red painted lips together, looking Jake up and down, as if deciding whether he should be allowed to stay. At least, that's how Jake felt under her strong gaze. He tried not to falter, fighting the urge to close his free hand into a fist.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was seductive, dripping with honey like a trap to lure Jake in.

"Aren't you a sweetheart?" Her coy smile gave Jake the confidence to sit down at her table. Though, he couldn't help but chuckle at her words.

"Believe me doll, I'm really not," it was said with a wink as he handed her the drink.

"Oh, I think you are," she winked back, causing Jake's heart to skip a beat, "However, I'm not a doll."

"Then what shall I call you? I was also thinking Goddess," Jake smirked.

She playfully rolled her eyes, "Sorry to break it to ya, but you aren't the first to call me that. My name actually means Venus."

Venus. How fitting, with her full lips and big eyes and hair full of curls. Jake couldn't think of a better name. If she was Venus, he would be her Mars, her fiery, passionate lover.

Just for tonight.

"I'm Jake," he stuck his hand out. He was a gentleman, after all.

She hesitated, just long enough to see his large hand begin to tremble before taking it.

Her skin was soft, though her grip was firm. She never broke eye contact, holding her own. This woman, this goddess, was different, confident. Jake couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't out on the dance floor or talking to other pilots.

"So Venus, what brings you here? Other than faith," He asked with a charming smile.

"Work was hell and my coworkers kept saying I should go here to blow off some steam," she shrugged, "I'm just looking for a sweet man."

Jake leaned back in his chair. Her words didn't match her mischievous tone. And there was that word again, sweet.

Sweet was not what anyone had ever used to describe him. Hot, charming, driven, successful. But never sweet.

"Well Venus," he shrugged as he looked up at her, "I don't know if I can offer you that. But what I can offer is a night you'll never forget."

"Shouldn't sell yourself short, Lieutenant," she giggled before taking another sip of her cocktail, "But why don't we just see where the night takes us?"

Jake expected the night to end one of two ways; either on top of her or going home with someone else.

What he didn't expect was to be underneath her in his car, her manicured fingers stroking his cock as he whined into her neck.

"That's it," She encouraged, "You deserve it. Been so fucking sweet to me."

Jake groaned, not caring if the whole bar heard him. He continued mouthing at her breasts, not caring about the tank top she had on.

"Made me cum with your fingers, let me get off on your thigh," She admired the stain he now had on his khaki pants, "What will your teammates think Lieutenant?"

"Don't....Fuckin' care," Jake gritted between his teeth, hips jerking up towards her.

"I knew you were a sweetheart. Makes up for your ugly as sin car," Venus chuckled.

Jake didn't care about her comment on his car. Truth be told, he didn't care too much about whether he came or not.

Truth was, he was too busy thinking of what engagement ring to get his Venus.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Liar, Liar

Summary: When the reader catches Dean in a big lie, she questions what the hell is going with her husband...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,100ish

Warnings: language, lying/angst, eventual fluff

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

“Sweetheart,” said Dean, standing over a frying pan, not glancing up when you wandered into the kitchen. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”

“I have writer’s block again,” you said, slumping into one of the barstools, resting your head on your arms.

“Quit for the day. You’re past working time anyways,” he said, holding up a spice shaker and sprinkling some in the pan.

“I wrote like half a page all day and it’s crap,” you said. “I think I’m all out of good ideas.”

“You better not be. I like being a trophy husband,” he teased.

“You are far from a trophy husband,” you said, lifting your head up, resting it in the palm of your hand. “You’re too smart for that.”

“Oh, I know it,” he said with a smirk. “I’m a genius, aren’t I?”

“Don’t push it, Einstein,” you said, Dean chuckling as he stirred the meat around. “Maybe I should quit and go back to an office job?”

“No way,” said Dean. “You were miserable.” 

“I’m miserable now,” you said, Dean chuckling again.

“You’re in a rough patch,” said Dean. “Plus now, you get to wear sweatpants all the time.”

“Sweatpants are pretty great,” you said, Dean humming in agreement. “But I think I really might be out of ideas Dean.”

“You need a vacation,” he said. “Recharge yourself.”

“But you have work this week,” you said, Dean shrugging. “I don’t deserve a vacation.”

“Have a Staycation then. Just don’t go in your office. It’s not like you need to request time off from the boss,” he said, carrying the pan over to a few plates. “Take a week off. I’m sure the ideas will come back.”

“Can I go to work with you?” you asked.

“With me? Why?” he asked, dishing up the food, letting it cool off to the side.

“Your job is interesting,” you said.

“I’m a tax lawyer. Yes, my life is just riveting,” he said.

“Maybe I need to write a story about a tax lawyer. Maybe a thriller or a murder,” you said.

“No,” he said, pushing a plate in front of you.

“Please? Like one hour on your lunch break?” You asked, Dean’s face scrunching up.

“I said no,” he said, grumpily taking a seat beside you, stabbing into his dinner.

“Alright. Sorry I asked.”

You waved Dean goodbye the next morning, watching him pull out of the driveway and down the street. You tried to take his advice and ignore your office, settling for watching TV instead but by eleven you were already antsy.

You decided to surprise him at work, bring him in a nice lunch with his favorite sandwich. You’d driven by the building his office was in before but the place was huge and you were more than a little lost when you got to the reception area.

“Hi, is Golden and Bash law firm on this side of the building or the other?” you asked, the receptionist pointing you down a hall and through a pair of double doors.

The lobby was quite grand and you had to hide your laugh that your Dean worked in a place like this.

“Can I help you?” asked the woman behind the desk.

“Yeah, I’m here to see my husband. I brought him lunch,” you said, the woman offering a smile.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. What’s his name? I can call him up to the desk,” she said.

“Winchester,” you said.

“I didn’t know little Sam was married,” she said, standing up with a wave. “He’s right-“

“Sorry, I meant Dean Winchester,” you said with a wince. “Sam’s my brother in law.”

“Miss we only have one Winchester in employment here. Sam Winchester. He started on Monday,” she said.

“That’s some kind of mistake,” you said, the receptionist looking back at her computer.

“No, it’s not,” she said, your head shaking. 

“Can you take me to Sam? I need to speak to him. Now,” you said. She didn’t say another word as you followed her back to a small office, boxes all around.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” asked Sam. “Is something wrong?”

“Dean said he worked here,” you said quietly.

“What? No way. I just got this job and he definitely isn’t here,” said Sam. “He’s at Greenwich, isn’t he?”

“No. He said he got a new one here a month ago,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“He definitely doesn’t work here, Y/N,” said Sam.

“Then where has my husband been going all day, Sam? I know he gets a paycheck, insurance...what the hell is going on?” 

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “I have to finish up a couple things here but I’ll be over the house in an hour.”

“Thanks,” you said, tossing the sandwich in the trash. By the time you got home, the Impala was in the driveway, Dean wearing a big smile in the kitchen.

“Hey! I decided to come home for lunch,” said Dean, holding up a pair of wraps he must have picked up along the way.

“Really,” you said, Dean nodding his head.

“Super busy morning down there. Had to get out of there and see a friendly face,” he said.

“Busy at the firm?” You forced a fake smile, your blood boiling as he hummed.

“Oh yeah. You know how busy tax time of year is. Everyone freaking out,” said Dean.

“That’s interesting,” you said.

“What is?” asked Dean.

“Your super busy morning at the law firm...considering you don’t work at the law firm,” you growled. You saw Dean about to shake it off but he took one look at your face and knew he was screwed. 

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly.

“Oh I have plenty of questions and I think-“

“How long?” asked Dean, your eyebrows raising.

“About twenty minutes. Now how about-“

“Does anyone else know?” he asked. 

“Sam. Now-“

“I’m not a tax lawyer,” he said with a sigh, setting his wrap down on the plate. You scoffed, crossing your arms.

“No shit,” you said.

“I can’t tell you what I am,” said Dean. You cocked your head, Dean’s jaw clenching.

“Why the hell not?” 

“It’ll…scare you.”

“Try me,” you said, getting in his face, Dean taking a deep breath.

“I’m a professor,” he said. You shook your head, holding up your hands.

“Okay? Why is that such a big secret?” you asked. Dean looked away, grimacing.

“At a…private school,” he said.

“Still not understanding the secret part,” you said.

“It’s a unique school,” said Dean.

“Is it fucking Hogwarts?” You scoffed. “Tell me the truth.”

“It’s called Hunters,” said Dean. You grit your teeth. 

“You are this close to me walking out-“

“You want a divorce? Fine. Divorce me,” he said. You grabbed his shoulders, Dean’s gaze turning harsh.

“Dean, talk to me,” you said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve said all I can,” he said.

“You being a teacher doesn’t scare me so what exactly is it you do at this school,” you said.

“You will never ask me about it again,” he said. 

“Tell me the truth!” 

“Hey,” said Sam, walking in through the front door, both your heads turning towards him. “I took care of the secretary.”

“Good,” said Dean, Sam barely looking at you.

“You killed-“

“No, he didn’t kill her,” said Dean with a sigh. “Just made her forget. Just like how you’re going to forget real soon.”

“Dean,” said Sam. “We can’t keep doing this every time you slip up.”

“I’m not telling her,” said Dean, grabbing your arm, pulling you over to the couch. “Just help me with this.”

“Dean, I don’t really think we’re solving the problem here,” said Sam, Dean forcing you to sit down.

“Thirty minutes of her life gone, she’ll think she took a nap,” said Dean, swallowing hard when you stared up at him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Do I even know you at all?” you asked, Sam crossing his arms off to the side. “Who are you?”

“Dean, just tell her,” said Sam. “I’m tired of hiding this.”

“I am not telling her all that crap,” said Dean. “I’m not gonna lose her over this.”

“You’re losing me already,” you said, Dean rubbing the back of his neck. “Tell me the truth.”

“I can’t!” said Dean, stepping away. “I have to protect you.”

“Tell me,” you growled.

“Sam, give it to me,” said Dean, holding out a hand.

“I didn’t bring it,” said Sam.

“You what?” asked Dean, eyes blinking rapidly.

“Didn’t bring it. I’m tired of making her forget. She’s your wife. Stop lying to her,” said Sam.

“Sammy, considering I’m the one that volunteered for this, you don’t get a say,” said Dean.

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” said Sam.

“I know. But I have to live with it so I get to choose how,” said Dean.

“What about Y/N’s choice? Does she not get one of those?” asked Sam.

“Apparently not,” you said, Dean running his hands over his face. “You know what. Forget it. If you don’t trust me enough to tell me whatever this is, fine. Don’t expect me to be here when you get home from your fake job.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, catching your arm when you stood up. “I trust you. I need you to trust me right now. I am not doing this to hurt you. The exact opposite really.”

“Then trust me that I can handle whatever this is,” you said.

“I can’t take it back after this. You’ll know and if you leave, I won’t make you forget again. I can’t if I know that’s how you really feel,” he said.

“Dean, trust me,” you said. He closed his eyes.

“I teach at a special school...our grandparents taught there and people before them. Someone from the family line always has to teach there after a certain age...once they have experience,” said Dean.

“Experience in what,” you said, Dean barely meeting your eye.

“Hunting…monsters,” mumbled Dean.

“You hunt monsters,” you said.

“Hunted. I haven’t been in five years. Not since I started teaching,” said Dean. “That’s right around when I met you.”

“Is that why you keep a shotgun full of salt under the bed?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. 

“And the symbols on the subfloor when we put in the new hardwoods you said were just scratches,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “And the matching tattoo of yours you convinced me to get on my hip?”

“It means a demon can’t possess you,” said Dean. “I know, I’m nuts.”

“I think you were a dumbass for being scared to tell me but not nuts,” you said, Dean’s head snapping up. “You read my first book. The horror one that sold like two copies? Yeah, that might have happened to my dad for reals. At first I thought it was a scary story but he told me to be careful out in the world. So vampires are real, huh?”

“Yeah. A whole bunch of other stuff too,” said Dean quietly.

“Told you so,” said Sam, Dean ripping a pillow off the couch and chucking it at him. “If you’re not going to kill each other, I have to get back to work.”

“Are you really a lawyer?” you asked.

“Yeah. Dean kept me out of the family business so I wouldn’t have to deal with that stuff,” said Sam. “I’ll catch up with guys later.”

“So…” said Dean when it was just the two of you. “Are you still going to divorce me?”

“How many times did you make me forget?” you asked.

“Twice. I never gave you a chance to talk really before, just sort of did it as soon as you knew I lied,” he said. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You’re going to leave, aren’t you.”

“I would not advise lying to me again,” you said. “Or making me forget. Understand?”

“Yes,” he said. “You hate me though. For lying.”

“If I didn’t know you so well, I might. But I also know your head is twisted up with stuff I never pushed but hoped you knew you could come to me with. You beat yourself up enough. I don’t hate you. Be honest with me is all I ask,” you said.

“Okay,” said Dean, pausing a beat. “What do you want to know?”

_________

[kooktrash]

a little thing called jealousy | jeon jungkook drabble

ugh okay I’m sorry I tried making it a bit more of an argument but I just can’t give this couple angst 😭

anyway, 2.9k straight fluff. a little bit of jealous Koo and they’re both clingy af

READ STORY HERE

Jungkook will be the first to admit that this was really all his doing. His homebody girlfriend would have preferred to stay in tonight and he would’ve loved to join you but this was Hoseok. Your shared friend Hoseok was having people over and he begged and begged Jungkook to get you to come out. He wanted to have a fun night with his girlfriend too so of course he was going to beg you to come out, right?

Well… apparently he’s an idiot.

You’re having fun alright, you’ve been drinking a bit and he’s happily taken the liberty of being sober tonight so he could still drive home but unfortunately for him that meant he was very aware of the things happening around him. For instance, you talking to some guy who you apparently knew. Jungkook is not the jealous type, he’s never been because he’s never had a reason to be. It’s been known for a while now that he could get a girl if he wanted to and you’ve been the only one in his life to make him really work for it and for that he’s thankful. You helped him be able to fully explore what he felt toward you until it was all he could think about and now he’s obsessed with you. He’s not the jealous type…

“Where’s Y/n?” Sungha asked coming over to him after watching him sulk on Hobi’s couch like there weren’t at least thirty people around him getting drunk. Jungkook shrugged, “She’s talking to someone.”

“Who?” Sungha asked, looking around with a smile on her face, “Oh! That’s Jisoo, wow, I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

Jungkook turned his attention to her, “Wait, you know him too? Who is he?”

“Uh,” Sungha thought for a moment, “He’s Y/n’s ex but It’s been years since we last saw him. Last I heard he moved to Tokyo for some time, he must’ve just gotten back.”

“Y/n’s ex?” Jungkook asked looking back to you and you felt his stare, turning to him and giving him a soft smile that made Jisoo look at him too, “I thought all her ex boyfriends were shitty.”

“All but Jisoo,” Sungha shrugged, not noticing the way Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously and his lip caught between his teeth, “But it was so long ago and we were all young so it makes sense that there’s no hard feelings there.”

“I’ll be back,” Jungkook said in a rush as he hopped off the couch and practically ran over to where you were.

Your breath hitched as firm arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against their back and for a second you couldn’t think of who it was. You’ve been drinking all night and when you get like that you tend to just talk and talk and forget everything else. It wasn’t until you felt Jungkook place small kisses along your neck that you smiled, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jungkook whispered into your eye as he kissed you one last time before looking at Jisoo, “I’ve been waiting for you to remember I was here too.”

Your brows seemed to furrow in confusion. You’ve only been away from him for at most five minutes. You had seen Jisoo from across Hobi’s apartment and you wanted to see how he was doing. You dated when you were 17 and it was so long ago and now you were both adults so clearly there were things to catch up on. It had been a mutual break up and since you were young it didn’t hold too much meaning so in truth you thought nothing of it.

“Jisoo this is Jungkook,” you introduced them to each other casually, Jungkook was busy kissing your neck lovingly for you to pay attention without squirming. You tried moving his hands off you because he was beginning to squeeze you a bit too much but he wouldn’t let up.

“Her boyfriend,” Jungkook clarified and you could hear the harshness in his tone. You smiled, “Yeah.”

“Good to meet you man,” Jisoo said missing the way Jungkook glared at him and he looked to you, “Alright, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Sungha or Jimin so I’m gonna go find them.”

“Yeah, go do that,” Jungkook said as you finally freed yourself from your boyfriend’s death grip. Jisoo’s brows scrunched together in confusion but he still smiled and waved you both goodbye.

“You having fun?” You asked him, slurring on your words a bit as you felt his hand go back to you waist not letting you get far from him without holding onto you. He shook his head no, “You ditched me.”

You laughed softly, still not processing how he was feeling in your drunken state, “I was just talking to Jisoo. I haven’t seen him in year—“

“Yeah and he’s your ex boyfriend that you ditched your current boyfriend to see,” Jungkook said following you down the hall toward the bathroom, stepping on the back of your shoe on accident.

You shook your head, “Yeah sorry, we ended up talking about his work so…”

You cut yourself off when you felt him step on your shoe once again but this time your foot actually lifted and it kind of hurt. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbled, “Can I go with you?”

“Where?” You asked before it dawned on you, “To the bathroom?” He nodded his head eagerly and you released a sigh, “Sure.”

You let him in and as you tried using the bathroom Jungkook distracted himself by rummaging through Hobi’s things. You hurried up to finish and you practically had to push him to the side to get to the sink. When you left, he was right there trying to hug you like you weren’t trying to walk and it was beginning to be a bit much. You were a little drunk and when you drink you tend to get hot and with him trying to hold you and step on you, you were starting to get a little annoyed. What was his deal?

He followed you into Hobi’s kitchen where you left in search of something to drink other than alcohol. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into him before you could even grab a drink, “Can we leave yet?”

“We just got here not that long ago,” you told him, feeling him begin to kiss along your neck again.

“Yeah but you’ve been ignoring me all night and I just want to lay in bed with my girlfriend an—“

“Jungkook!” You groaned when he accidentally pushed you too close to the counter in an attempt to follow you even if you didn’t move and made you hit your hip against the corner, “Ow!”

“Sorry,” he rushed out to say, hand down on your hip to try and soothe the pain but you were annoyed and drunk and hot.

You released a huff in annoyance, “Jeez, you’ve stepped on me and now you made me hit the counter, can you give me some space?”

“Y/n—“

“No, I’m starting to get annoyed,” you said pushing past him, “And I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been with you all night, I only left for like five minutes so stop being so clingy.”

Jungkook’s jaw couldn’t help but tense up at that as he looked down at you. You really did look annoyed and typically Jungkook would apologize and do what you asked but he felt annoyed too. How was he supposed to feel when you left him to talk to your ex boyfriend, “Fine, go do whatever you want then, I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Before you could say anything you watched him storm off angrily and just before you could get to him, Sungha and Jimin were calling you over. You walked over to them reluctantly, “Hey.”

“Hey, where’s Kook?” Jimin asked offering you another drink but you refused it. “I don’t know… he went to the car?”

“Why?”

“I think he’s ready to go, I’ll probably just say goodbye to Hobi and Jisoo and leave too,” you told them apologetically, “He’s acting weird, and I got a little mad at him.”

“Y/n… what happened?” Sungha asked making you shrug.

“I don’t know, he was fine earlier and then when I was talking to Jisoo he just came over and got super clingy and…” you paused in thought, “Oh…”

Sungha’s smile dropped, “Oops, that might’ve been my fault. I told him about Jisoo being your ex and he got up a little upset.”

“Sungha!” Jimin yelled, “They dated for a month when they were seventeen! Why would you tell him that?”

“I don’t know!” Sungha panicked, “I didn’t think it was a big deal. Jungkook never gets jealous!”

You released a huff, feeling exhausted and a little more sober now, “Alright, I’m gonna go talk to him, bye.”

You practically ran out to Jungkook’s car and when you found him inside he was slumped over his phone, pout evident on his face.

“Ready?” You asked him shyly, wondering how you could talk about it and if he really was upset. He didn’t give you a verbal response, only nodded his head as he started the car.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think I drank too much.”

Jungkook didn’t respond once again as he drove quietly, not even music playing and you felt the need to keep going, “Thank you for getting me to come out tonight. Next time I’ll drive and you can get drunk, alright?”

Jungkook just nodded as he drove. His feelings were very obviously hurt. He didn’t mean to step on you or making you hit the counter but he was anxious. The second he learned Jisoo was your ex he felt his anxiety shoot up and he just needed a little reassurance from you.

It’s just… it took him so long to get you to even think about him romantically. He put in so much work for the two of you to be where you are and he genuinely thinks he’s in love with you. He can’t help but feel hurt knowing your ex can come out of nowhere and have all your attention right away and if you’re still on good terms then who's to say there’s not still lingering feelings there? He doesn’t want to lose you when he just got you.

Tonight Jungkook was staying over at your place even if he was a little mad at how you yelled at him when he just wanted to be with you. Even mad he wanted to spend the night with you so obviously he was going to follow you.

“Koo,” you said softly as you followed him up to your own apartment. Jungkook waited quietly for you to unlock the door and you had to repeat yourself, “Are you hungry? Should I put a pizza in the oven?”

“If you want,” Jungkook shrugged as he threw himself on your couch sullenly. You released a small sigh, “Do you want water?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t mean to brush you off but he really was upset. Maybe he’s overthinking it but it really was hard to get you to like him back and he’s just worried… he doesn’t want you to realize that you could probably do better than him.

“Jungkook,” you used his full name now as you set the glass down on the coffee table and made him sit up. Without thinking you planted yourself on his neck but he couldn’t even look at you, “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“A little,” he admitted, not wanting to bottle this feeling up, “I didn’t mean to be too clingy but you yelled at me in front of everyone and… and you didn’t even introduce me to your ex as your boyfriend. It’s like you didn’t want him to know.”

You shook your head sadly, “No, it’s not like tha—“

“Then what is it, Y/n? You ditch me to talk to your ex boyfriend then get mad at me for wanting to be with you?” Jungkook felt a bit annoyed now, “Sometimes I still feel like I’m just a bother to you and you just can’t wait to get rid of me.”

“What?” You looked genuinely taken back as you turned to straddle his lap, his hands absentmindedly finding your waist even if he was mad, “No, baby, it’s not like that. I love being with you, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap on you. I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry for ditching you but Jisoo and I…”

Jisoo and I? Great… Jungkook thought, he felt his anxiety spike up and couldn’t help but move you off his lap, too distracted with you so close. You released a small sigh, “I mean, we only dated for a month. It was nothing serious, we tried to see where it would go but we were 17 and better off as friends. Him and I never meant anything.”

Jungkook was up, trying to find a way to distance himself so you wouldn’t see how hurt he was. Maybe he was being dramatic but what if now that you’re adults you want to try it again with Jisoo? What will happen to him if you do?

“Jungkook…” you whined as you hopped off the couch, surprising him by wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind, “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there, I’m sorry.”

Jungkook took a deep breath, feeling his anger slowly dissipate but he needed to stay strong. You yelled at him and you were mean, it wasn’t fair.

He tried to talk but you only clung to him harder, “Kooky, look at me please.”

He took a deep breath, hand going over yours as you hugged him, “I’m upset.”

“I know,” you told him honestly as you moved to hug his front, feeling his arms slowly come up to your waist, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you thinking I want to be with anyone but you. I’m serious, I feel really bad.”

Jungkook huffed in defeat as his hand came up to the back of your head, “Are you going to yell at me like that again?”

“No!” You said feeling hopeful, looking up at him like he was the moon and stars, “I mean it. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“Mm,” he released a sigh as he thought about it, “Was I really being too much?”

“No! No,” you should your head, “No, I get it now. I was ignoring you and you just wanted to be with me but I got mad. No, I love when you get like that, it makes me feel wanted.”

“Of course I want you!” He said suddenly, “Baby, I’ve never felt that way before… I just felt scared that you would realize that you only began dating me because I basically pressured you to and seeing someone you used to have feelings for made you reali—“

“Jungkook, I love you.”

He froze, words getting caught in his throat, “You do?”

You nodded cutely, still hugging him tightly, “Of course I do, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met! And you’re so cute and funny and I want to be with you all the time even if I suck at showing it. I’m sorry for making you feel like I would leave you, that’s not right. I want to be with you and only you, nobody else, please don’t be mad at me. I don’t like it.”

Jungkook brushed your hair out of your face as he thought about it for a second, “I’m so in love with you, Y/n. So fucking in love that I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to respond to this new jealousy feeling.”

“I’m in love with you,” you repeated and this time around he felt his heart burst into millions of butterflies, “And I’m so sorry.”

“Ugh,” he huffed out, “I can’t be mad at you even if I tried.”

“But it’s okay if you are,” you told him honestly — and cutely that he had to smile — “I don’t blame you for getting mad if I’ve done something to upset you. Don’t feel like you always have to be happy with me and let me have my way.”

“Okay,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “But I love you too much to stay mad.”

“Koo!” You whined, stomping your foot a little as you tried to pull away, “You can’t always be happy with me—“

“I can’t help it,” he whined too, cheeks flushing red at how cute he thought you were, “I was just being dramatic.”

“No, you weren’t, I was in the wron—“ you ended with a small squeal as Jungkook picked you up.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Jungkook finally said, “For now let’s get to bed and let me cuddle you.”

“I’m sorry for earlier,” you said, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, practically clinging to him, “Seriously.”

“I know,” Jungkook smiled, “And if you really want to make it up to me then you can get your cute butt in bed and go to sleep.”

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” You asked with a small yawn as he made it into your room and set you down gently on your bed. He went ahead and closed the door, shutting you into darkness as he joined you, “No, baby, I love you too much to stay mad.”

“I love you more,” you said and you felt disgusted by your own cheesiness.

He smiled though, loving every second of it, “No, I love you more.”

“Not true.”

“Yes true.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No—“

“Yes! Now go to sleep.”

::.

ugh I just genuinely feel like they can’t stay mad at each other for long

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[indiaalphawhiskey]

“Perhaps that was another part of your planned… entrapment.”

Colin Bridgerton could live to be eight-and-ninety, and those words would forever be the nine he was most ashamed of. He had not known a moment’s peace since uttering them, his bones heavy with grief and regret as the words circled his memory, again, and again, and again.

Worse still had been Penelope’s response — soft and unbearably genuine; watery and honest. “I did not mean to entrap you, Colin. I love you.”

I love you.

He held onto that part of the memory fiercely, mind focused on her singular mercy, the use of present tense — love, not loved — fervently hoping it would drown out the rest. That it would make him forget the feel of her fingers, warm against his own, slipping the frigid metal of her betrothal ring back into his palm; forget the way he felt his heart split in two immediately, the crisp sound of its cracking masked only by the angry clack of his boots as he stormed after her, livid and ludicrously in love, because how very dare she?

How dare she think to leave him, as though that were even a possibility for two people whose souls were so deeply intertwined?

He said as much, though admittedly, not quite as well.

“Penelope,” he whispered the warning into her hair as he caught up to her at the bottom of the staircase. His fingers curled around her elbow, just firm enough to keep her in place. Gently, he spun her to face him, and implored seriously, “you cannot leave.”

Me, was what he meant. You cannot leave me.

Even the thought of it made the air leave his lungs, so he pushed it away, and chose instead to say, “the banns have been read.”

She scoffed in a way that was so easy, he felt another shard of his heart come loose. “As though we are the first pair to ever call off a wedding. Was not Miss Edwina already at the head of the altar? If anything, we are conscientiously early in our decision.”

‘Our decision’. Of all the insults. As if Colin would ever permit such foolish thinking as this, let alone contribute to it.

He narrowed his eyes at this sudden display of hardness he did not recognize in her. “We have been intimate,” he reminded her then — determined that she understand just exactly how inevitable they were.

He had uttered the very same excuse not five minutes prior, and yet this time, instead of her earlier sweet sorrow, he was met with a startling flash of anger, the blue of her eyes thunderous.

“No one need know that if you would only stop repeating it,” she hissed, quiet and angry. “Or are you to tell me you will stupidly aid in your own entrapment,” the word fell from her tongue like arsenic, heavy and poisoned, “by announcing it over and over until we are caught?”

It was infuriating how truly clever she was.

No matter, he was clever, too. Her soul’s perfect match.

“And if you are with child?” He snapped.

She rolled her eyes at him, derisive laughter in her tone. “My courses have come and gone, Mr. Bridgerton, you need not worry.” Somehow, her words left him stricken, a sharp pang of something akin to disappointment hitting him squarely in the chest. She, however, was unmoved, her expression as fiery as the auburn of her hair. “It seems even my body has graciously decided to relieve you of your most honorable duty.”

It was scathing and deserved, and yet all Colin could say in return was what he hoped was true, “You lie.”

“I do not,” she said simply, a near murderous smile playing at her lips now. “Or maybe I do,” she shrugged, unbothered. “It is not as if you can lift my skirts in an attempt to ascertain the truth.”

It was all he could do not to gape at her, his beautiful, sweet, gently-bred betrothed — for she was his betrothed still, make no mistake — speaking in such a manner to him.

“Penelope,” he chastised harshly.

“Miss Featherington,” she corrected, tone sharp as she tipped her chin up towards him, eyes stony.

It was the final straw. Colin had never been so angry, and so desperately in love. His fingers fell from her elbow to her wrist, and he yanked it towards him much less gently than he should have, before slipping the ring back onto her finger with the kind of finality that brooked no more argument. He watched as it found its rightful place again, before announcing, irrefutably, “Mrs. Bridgerton.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 6

Part 5

Come for the sugar daddy fantasy stay for my everybody-loves-steve agenda

Eddie insisted on helping Steve with his suit the night of the soiree. Steve allowed him into his apartment for the first time, after some extensive cleaning. Eddie was already dressed in his suit, red, no shirt underneath. He took the garment bag from Eddie, kissed his lips, and then went to his bedroom. Eddie got a glimpse of his nest before the door was shut.

"Uhh? Baby?"

"No peeking", Steve said from behind the door.

"Babyyyy", Eddie whined, pressing his face to the wood.

Steve grinned to himself as he listened, getting dressed on his own anyway. "I don't want to be late. And if I let you 'help' that's exactly what will happen."

It wasn't just what Eddie would do. It was what Steve would let him get away with. It would be very easy to let Eddie in and then tumble in his nest. The thought of letting Eddie's scent mix in... Steve wondered if he could get away with sneaking a piece of his clothing away. But Eddie had promised him a fun night out and said he'd be meeting his bandmates as well.

He finished getting dressed and came out. Eddie stumbled, being nearly glued to the door. Steve almost made a joke about falling for him.

"You gonna be this attached to me all night?", he asked instead.

Eddie righted himself and stood up straight. "If I let you out of my sight, the wolves will descend on you Lil Red."

Steve put his hands on Eddie's chest and leaned in. "Good thing I've got a big, strong woodsman to keep me safe~"

Since it was a band event, Eddie had a personal driver this time. That meant he could sit in the backseat and play with Steve the whole way. Eddie's hand was firm on Steve's thigh while the other held his hip. He'd wanted to bury them in Steve's tresses but one firm tap and reprimand 'don't touch the hair' and here they were.

Eddie was nibbling on Steve's neck, wishing he could put something more permanent on him. Let others know who he belonged to. When they arrived, Steve took a moment to get himself together. Eddie thought he looked just as radiant now as he did with sex-tousled hair but he liked seeing his baby primp too.

Eddie led him, arm in arm, into a nightclub. The music was energetic but didn't really seem to fit with Eddie's usual metal scene. Steve had done some research on the band, listened to a few songs, learned the other members names too. So even through the blaring music, he was able to understand when Eddie brought them over to a reserved table where the rest of them awaited.

"So this is the guy?", Jeff asked.

"This must be the guy", Gareth nodded.

"Can't be anyone else but the guy", Grant raised his glass to Steve.

Steve smiled at Eddie. "You've been telling them about me?"

"You're a secret I don't wanna keep, babydoll", Eddie smiled back.

"DJ here is mixing a set around one of our albums", Jeff said. "Kind of a little promotion for us. And when we share the video, he'll get a bump too."

"I thought this was a little out of the box for your sound", Steve said.

"You listen to our music?", Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged, playing it off. "I've dabbled." He leaned into Eddie's space to take a sip from the drink in his hand. "What about you? Do you dabble in this?"

"Not quite my scene, no. I'm an appreciator of most genres though."

"Can we finally break the silence on Eddie's jazz phase?", Gareth said.

"What's wrong with jazz?", Steve asked.

"Music was fine", Grant clarified, "He just got super pretentious about the different subgenres."

"He was insufferable", Gareth added.

"What about you guys, then?", Steve pointed the question to them. "Are you into this kind of music?"

"It's something to dance to", Jeff replied.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Care to dance?", Steve asked.

Jeff gave a look to Eddie, asking permission. Amused, Steve also looked to Eddie for his response. Eddie's arm had been wrapped rather possessively around him for most of the night, so he could feel how antsy Steve was getting. Eddie gave his hip a pat.

"Go have fun."

Steve kissed his cheek and then went down to the dance floor with Jeff. He loved to move and he'd been itching to dance all night, but Eddie didn't seem like a dancer, at least not to this kind of music. And he wasn't about to just go out and dance with someone random in the club. Jeff was the perfect partner, knowing when to be close and when to give him space.

He felt a finger tap his shoulder and when he turned, Grant was there. Following the beat of the music, Steve gave him his attention. He was able to catch Eddie's eyes just once and saw the hunger in his eyes. When Gareth came to dance, he was a little more hesitant to touch Steve until Steve himself pulled Gareth's hands to him.

The way they all touched him was polite but there was an underlying desire. They were showing appreciation, but they weren't going to challenge the pseudo-claim Eddie had on him. He caught Eddie's gaze again and it was darker this time. He began to walk off the dance floor, ignoring a few calls from voices he didn't recognize.

Steve returned to Eddie and straddled his lap. "Sure I can't tempt you to dance?"

"There's not a thing you can't tempt me into, sweetheart. But you'll have to give me something dance-able. Liked seein' you have fun though. My boys take care of you?"

"Mhm, they were very gentlemanly." Steve's hand dipped under Eddie's suit jacket, needing skin to skin contact.

"Music to my ears", Eddie said against Steve's lips before meeting them. He growled against his mouth as he was able to detect the scents of his friends on him. Steve was pack. Steve was his.

Eddie practically dragged him out of the club and back into the car. The door was barely closed before Steve was in his lap again. He was writhing, probably very close to ruining the nice suit pants.

"Come with me", Eddie breathed.

"Yes, Daddy", Steve moaned into his ear.

"No I mean, on tour. Come with me on tour baby."

Steve paused in his humping to look in Eddie's eyes. "You want me along for the ride?"

Eddie nodded, eyes wide and big as if there was ever a chance that Steve would say no. But he also couldn't just say yes.

"For how long?"

Eddie licked his lips. "Two months."

"My job..."

"I'll take care of anything you need", Eddie said quickly.

"My apartment-"

"I'll handle it, baby. Just please say you'll come."

Steve's head tilted to the side. Robin's words echoed in his head. Wasn't this the scenario he'd been running from? An alpha having control over his life? If for even a moment, Eddie changed his mind about him, he'd be out a job and a home. Steve looked back down at him and that was his undoing.

"I'll need a new suitcase, and wardrobe, and-"

"Done, done, and whatever else you can think of, it's done." Eddie kissed him in elation, much sweeter than anything else they'd done all night.

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

Steve at least tried to sell the whole 'can I bounce for two months and come back later' at his job but obviously that didn't fly. It was fine. It wasn't really the work or even the miniscule paycheck he was attached to. It was simply the comfort of doing the same thing in the same place every day. He could fill out applications on the road and get the same job anywhere.

True to his word, Eddie took him out shopping just a couple of days later.

"I meant to tell you", Eddie said as they walked through the mall. He was dressed very casually in jeans and a t-shirt under a vest with the band's logo on the back. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he kept his shades on inside. "That lunch meeting with sushi? Went pretty good. Your advice worked."

"You sound surprised", Steve teased. He was wearing a green sweater and light jeans.

"Not surprised, beautiful. Just in awe." Eddie put an arm around him as he led him into the first store.

Just like at the tailor's Eddie let Steve loose, letting him pick and choose what he wanted. After the third store, Steve was looking at him hesitantly.

"You're really going to spoil me. Going to turn me into a brat and anything."

"What? You? My sweet angel babydoll? Never", Eddie smirked. "You're acting like no one's ever lavished you like this."

Steve shrugged. "Well, not like this but-", then he thought better of it. "Never mind."

"I don't think so, baby. I think I deserve at least one story of past-Steve. You got to google search my life story."

"How do you know I didn't ask Jeeves?"

Eddie put a hand to his heart, then took his hat off like a sign of respect. "RIP to a real one. But you're not gonna distract me, Stevie. I feel like you've been keeping something from me. Not something big, just something you don't think I should know."

Breaking his gaze from Eddie's, Steve spied a restaurant inside the mall. "Let's eat."

Eddie had them get a booth in the back, figuring Steve would want some modicum of privacy for this. He wasn't expecting a bombshell, but he figured it must mean something to Steve.

"So, when you met me, you probably thought I was this... downtrodden, poor omega with nowhere to go." That rainy night seemed so long ago.

"That's not what I thought at all", Eddie said with a shake of his head. "Honestly thought you were waiting for someone. Made no sense to me that you were all alone."

Steve smiled. "Well, I wasn't always alone. Not physically, at least. My parents are Layton and Margaret Harrington. They've got a hand in a lot of things but most of our money comes from apple orchards of all things."

"So you're the heir to a vast apple fortune", Eddie surmised.

"Was the heir to a vast fortune."

"Is there a story behind that?", Eddie asked, watching Steve pick at his food.

"Not an original one", Steve said with a chuckle. "They paraded the alpha sons of their associates. I was also paraded. I was offered a life where all I had to do was look nice and speak little and eventually bring up the next generation of whatever old money family my parents chose for me... It was suffocating."

Eddie's leg stuck out from under the table and rubbed against his. "You got your own place. And your own job. You got out. Why would you keep this from me though? Doesn't sound particularly scandalous."

"I don't know", Steve shook his head. "Maybe I didn't want you to think I was a gold digger, or maybe I didn't want you to think I had super high expectations, or-it just felt like I shouldn't tell you. I'm tired of carrying my parents around."

"They're really that loaded?"

"Didn't you hear me say 'old money'?"

"Is there some scorned ex-fiance I should be worried about?"

"Hmmmnope."

"You sure about that, sweetness?"

"I'm sure. None of them are looking for me. And none of them hold a candle to you."

Eddie could understand wanting to leave the past in the past. After eating, they continued their shopping spree. Eddie paused at a costume shop that showed a few of the outfits on mannequins in the window. Steve followed his line of sight and grinned.

"Gimme your card."

"Sure, what for?", Eddie asked as he handed it over to Steve.

"For a surprise. Go get a pretzel. I'll text you when I'm ready." He kissed Eddie's cheek and then went into the costume shop.

Whipped like cream, Eddie did in fact go get a pretzel, fantasizing about all the little outfits Steve could be buying right now. When they met up, he wasn't allowed to peek. So while he knew there must be a costume of some kind in Steve's wardrobe now, he was oblivious to the lingerie he'd bought as well.

Part 7

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[harveysweakness]

hi! do you think you could make a story where harvey’s wife gets really sick at work after working on a case non stop and he has to take care of her? i loooove a good domestic harvey story :))

A/N: i love domestic fics and i loved this request!!!!! I’ll write more in the future I’m sure :) also the gif didn’t load before i chose it so we’ll see what random one we get

You cleared your throat, signing the final documents for the case you’d just won. You’d been working non-stop and everyone in the office knew it. This case was personal, meaning you hadn’t trusted your personal associate with it. And that had meant you were the one working without sleep.

A knock at your glass door caught your attention.

“Congratulations are in order,” Jessica smiled.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You worked yourself into the ground, didn’t you?”

“I’m fine.”

She laughed lightly. “Harvey won’t let that go like I will.”

“Well, he can suck my-“

“Feel better, Y/N,” Jessica interrupted, laughing. “And congratulations, again.”

You sighed after she left. The annoying need to sniffle every five seconds from your running nose and the constant itch in your throat was a sure sign that you had indeed run yourself into the ground.

———————

A few hours later you were freezing, one of your comfy blankets wrapped around you while you focused on finishing up last minute little jobs you hadn’t done due to preparing for trial.

“Someone told me you weren’t feeling well.”

You looked up from your computer, unable to stop the smile that formed, the same smile anytime you saw your husband.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, watching him walk around your desk to sit on the edge right next to your chair. You kept your face neutral while he analyzed you.

“You’re flushed, I can feel the heat radiating off of you, I can hear your breathing which means you have a stuffy nose, and your voice sounds hoarse.”

“So?” You retorted, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes.

“So, you’re coming with me and I’m taking you home.”

“No.”

“Don’t argue with me, Y/N. You won your trial and now you need to rest.”

“Harvey-“

“Sweetheart, please.”

You sighed, giving in. You muffled a cough into your blanket, your husband brushing his hand across your forehead before tucking fallen hair behind your ear.

“What about your work?” You asked.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” he shrugged. “Mike can handle it.”

Your heart warmed. It wasn’t often your husband took a day off of work, especially not for something as simple as this.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head, before he stood. “Come on, let’s get your coat.”

You stood, shrugging off your cozy blanket and moving right into your wool coat Harvey had open and ready for you. He grabbed your scarf, wrapping it snugly around your neck. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and grabbed your bag, letting his hand rest on your lower back as he guided you out of your office and down the hall towards the elevators.

Donna caught up with you on the way, giving your arm a brief squeeze, mouthing ‘feel better.’

“Donna, canc-“

“All of your meetings for the day are canceled, Mike has been made aware, and he asked me to pass along ‘feel better and congrats on the trial.”

Harvey nodded his approval.

“Thanks, Donna,” you smiled. She winked before moving to stand directly in front of Harvey, stopping you both effectively in your tracks.

“If you don’t nurse her back to full health, I will personally make sure Louis ends up alone in your office and touches all of your records.”

Harvey gave a pointed look. “I swear to you, Donna, I will make sure she gets back to full health.”

“That’s what I needed to hear.” With that, she left.

“Ever since you came to this firm, people suddenly prefer you to me,” your husband wondered aloud.

“Can you really blame them?” You teased.

“No, I can’t,” Harvey answered simply, hitting the elevator button.

—————

“What is that smell?” You questioned, wandering into the kitchen.

“I’m surprised you can smell at all,” Harvey replied. “It’s soup.”

“I can smell a little bit, and that is one good-smelling soup.” You sat down at one of the counter stools, watching your husband stirring the large pot on the stove, his laptop open on the counter next to him.

“Harvey, if you have work, you don’t need to stay here and take care of me.”

He turned, wiping his hands on the towel next to the sink. “It’s just the recipe.”

He turned to remove the pot from the hot burner before coming over to you.

“You’re not as flushed,” - his hand came to rest on your forehead- “and you’re fever is down.”

“So why do I feel worse?” You asked quietly. His brow furrowed before he moved closer, his arms circling around you, letting you burrow your face into his chest.

It wasn’t easy for either of you to show vulnerability, something you were both trying to work on since you both cared so much about the other.

“Why don’t I get you a bowl of soup and then we can cuddle in bed and watch whatever show you want.”

You nodded, hesitantly pulling away from him. Before he went back to the stove he hooked a finger under your jaw and lifted your chin up, leaning down. You put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“You’ll get sick.”

“I don’t care.” He closed the gap easily, your hand moving from his chest up to his neck. His lips met yours for a moment before moving to your cheek and your forehead and your nose.

“I love you, Harvey Specter.”

“I love you, Y/N Specter.”

[jetblack4realz]

beautiful - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary - growing up as bradley's best friend and ride or die, then going to college and suddenly realizing it's more than that

warnings - don't think so

word count - 1.8k, just a cute little guy

______________________________________________________________

you couldn't remember a time that you weren't with bradley bradshaw. you had grown up by his side, from kindergarten to now sophomore year of college, you had been his wingman. and he was yours.

you had the same friend group, all of whom dated each other, which left you and bradley to do your own thing which was fine. everyone expected y'all to get together eventually, but when freshman year came to a close they all lost that hope.

until now.

it was well known by your friends that harrison ralph was the biggest douchebag UVA had ever seen. bradley knew that, carlie knew that, georgie knew that, and so did beckham and lara. but you, well, let's just call you optimistic.

harrison had approached you at a frat party a few weeks into the senior year, catching your attention quickly with some pretty words and an even prettier smile. with his arm leaned against the wall behind you, he was getting close, and bradley was getting pissed.

"y/n!" he called with an exaggerated smile, reaching forward and grabbing your hand. harrison leaned away, eying bradley as if trying to size him up. georgie laughed at the scene, knowing that 5'10", 160lbs harrison stood no chance against 6'3", 200lbs bradley bradshaw, even though his attitude sure made up for some of it.

"bradshaw," harrison hummed. "what do we owe the pleasure?"

bradley didn't look at the boy, instead directing his attention to you. "lara and carlie want to go get food."

it wasn't an invitation, nor was it a question of whether or not the two of you would be attending. you were going to leave with him or he wasn't leaving you.

"are they drunk?" you asked. when bradley nodded his head, you sighed. "where's the nearest arby's?"

"you're not seriously leaving, are you?" harrison asked, grabbing your arm as you stepped towards bradley.

"sorry, i've gotta take care of some friends. i'll see you around," you said with a polite smile, letting bradley pull you away. harrison reached forward, grabbing your other hand with a firm grasp.

"text me, ok? i'll wait up for you," he said, winking quickly.

"well, don't," was bradley's sharp response. he dragged you back to the group who had already left to get in their cars. a text buzzed on your phone in your back pocket as you pulled the door open to bradley's bronco, and as you fished it out to read the text, your brows knitted closely together.

"lara said she's going back to beckham's," you said loud enough for bradley to hear on the other side of the truck. "and georgie's dropping carlie off at the dorm."

so you hadn't seen the boys dragging their girlfriends off with smirks and winks thrown in bradley's direction? probably a good thing.

"let's just go home then," bradley shrugged as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"well, maybe i can go back-"

"let's go home," he said again, slowly with his eyebrows knitted. "you don't need to see that harrison douchebag."

"well, i don't wanna go back to the dorm to carlie and georgie banging again," you sighed, hopping into your usual passenger seat and shutting the door next to you. "i think a third round of bleach will officially ruin my eyesight."

"just come back to my place," he shrugged, turning the truck on and beginning to pull out of the small space he'd managed to parallel park into earlier that evening.

you didn't answer immediately, instead staring down at your shut off phone.

"do you think harrison meant what he did?"

"what?" he asked quickly, glancing over at you as he continued to drive down the backroads of charlottesville to his apartment.

"i mean... guys like him don't look at girls like me like he did. and they certainly don't tell them they're waiting up for their text."

"sweetheart, i think he's waiting up for something else," bradley told you with a sigh. "and he meant it. he damn sure meant it."

"are you sure?"

"he seemed pretty interested. dunno why he wouldn't be."

"i don't know why he would be."

"what are you on about?" he asked, glancing at you again as he pulled into his apartment parking lot. it was dark, only lit by two streetlamps on complete opposite sides of each other, and you could barely see the walkway into the complex. not that it mattered - you both knew the place like the back of your hand. he parked as you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

"guys aren't interested in me. ever. it's just unbelievable."

"except it's entirely believable. do you know how many guys i've seen check you out over the years? for starters, before they met carlie and lara, georgie and beckham were obsessed with you."

"no they weren't," you laughed, shaking your head.

"they were, i swear!" he said, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched you smile too. "they were sixteen year old boys with functioning eyes, of course they were obsessed with a beautiful girl like you."

"i may be pretty cute now, but i definitely wasn't a looker then," you laughed, recalling the awkward stage of high school.

"oh trust me, you were and still are insanely beautiful, sweetheart. nearly every guy on the football team asked me to give them your number and they always wanted to know if you'd been asked to homecoming or prom or whatever yet."

"they asked you for my number and you didn't give it to them?" you asked with a dramatic gasp and wide eyes.

"oh hell no! you were mine and mine alone, i definitely wasn't willing to share you with the meatheads that were the bedford high football team."

"i was yours?" you asked curiously, turning completely to face him with a smirk pulling at one side of your mouth.

"my best friend, i mean," he corrected quickly, grinning your way.

"mhmm, we'll go with that for now," you hummed, laughing as he looked at you incredulously.

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"but moving on - why didn't you tell me all of this before? because i've been convinced that i like always have something in my teeth or something the way some of these guys look at me, because it's not flattering and doesn't seem anywhere near that they'd wanna kiss me."

"darlin', they're staring lower than your teeth and they're hoping for more than just a kiss, let me tell you that," bradley informed you with a frown. "guys are prudes and jackasses and that's why i never told you. ain't any of 'em that i thought were good enough for you."

"is that why you dragged me out of that party?" you asked. he furrowed his brows, but you just smiled and laughed. "i know the girls didn't wanna get food, you just needed an excuse to pull me away from harrison ralph."

"that's cause he's also a douche," he nodded. "ain't no way in hell you're spending a night with him."

"but he's a cute douche," you sighed, laying over on the middle seat between you and bradley dramatically. "i haven't been on a date in months, brad. it's like suddenly every single guy in virginia has gone off girls."

"it's because they're intimidated," he answered softly, messing with the splayed out ends of your hair as you looked up at him. "you're beautiful, crazy smart, naturally talented at everything you do, super ambitious and driven - they know you're out of their league."

"i wish they'd just try. i feel like they've all given up on me or something." you sounded defeated, because you were. bradley hated to hear it, leaning back in his seat as you grabbed his hand, messing with his callouses as he worked up the courage to say what was on his mind.

apparently, he took too long and you were sitting up and sliding out of the car. he followed quickly, locking the bronco and coming to your side as you pulled a hand through your hair, the other arm crossed over your chest and the other quick to join it.

"what's going on?" he asked. "what is this really about?"

you continued walking, your eyes on bradley's door just down the outdoor hall as you sighed. "i got into flight school today."

"what? that's awesome, congratulations," he told you with a smile.

"yeah, well, i'm not even gonna go, so it's all pointless," you said, lips a straight line and a small crease between your brows slowly forming.

"why? what's wrong, why can't you go?" he asked.

"my mom was pissed enough as is that i came here and if she learns that i'm graduating just to not come home and instead go to flight school - she's gonna flip, she's not gonna let me go."

"what do you mean? you're an adult, y/n, she doesn't get to tell you what to do anymore."

"no, but she can guilt me into going into business with her. she's got the bakery and she needs me to run the business side of it. it's why i got my marketing degree-"

"you got your marketing degree because you needed something to do while figuring out what you really want. and you want to fly. we've talked about being in the navy for years together, frankly i was surprised you said you were going to college even before my papers got pulled."

"well, mom needed help and-"

"and she can hire some. you get to choose what to do with your life, y/n," he told you. "you're like, this crazy brilliant girl who's been surrounded with people who tell you that you can't do anything your whole life and they just need to get out of your head; your mom, teachers, idiot guys, all of 'em."

"that's hard," you laughed dryly.

"well, let me tell you this then," he said as you came to a stop in front of his door. "you are amazing, y/n. in every way possible and there's not enough words to describe it. and-" he hyped himself up, taking a quick breath "-i haven't given up on you. you're everything to me."

you were smiling, like big, and that was all the clearance bradley needed to lean in and press his lips to yours. even though you were a little surprised, you kiss him back, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. he pulled away after several moments, breathing deeply and looking down at you with a smile.

"you're everything to me too," you mumbled, returning his smile. he kissed you again, shorter this time, and softer too.

"i'm really, really glad to hear that," he said.

you felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you reluctantly unwinded yourself from the boy in front of you, pulling your phone out to read the text.

hey beautiful, can i come over??

"i'd rather i be the only one to call you beautiful, beautiful," bradley said after reading it upside down. you clicked on the contact, scrolling down and clicking the red 'block contact' text. it disappeared from the screen and you grinned up at him.

"i think i'd be okay with that."

[mykneeshurt]

Wrath

Title picture by @loneghostwolf

Soap x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, p in v, m oral receiving, f oral receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, breath play, praise kink, spit kink, hate sex, allusions to cock warming

I apologise for cheesey lines in this lmfao again not proofread because I’m so tired

John McTavish.

Johnny.

Fucking Soap.

An absolute thorn in your side since your first day with 141. Fast forward 8 months and the team had grown tired of your constant bickering and arguing. Every little situation, every single thing you did he had to make a comment. The bickering normally ended with you shouting ‘suck my dick Soap!’

Then came the constant comments. The constant jokes, it wore you down so fast. There were times when you did actually get on but they were few and far between. Gaz and Ghost often joked you needed to fuck to release the tension. They were met with middle fingers from each of you, both telling them to ‘fuck off’ in unison. Which naturally spurred them on further. They compared you to an old married couple.

It came to a head after a sparring session one day, you’d been paired with Soap to your utter dismay. ‘Knew you didn’t have it in you to hit me princess’ he chided, a stupid fucking smirk on his face. ‘Don’t call me princess’ you spat, eyes glaring straight through him. ‘Why? You fuckin act like one.’

‘I’m fuckin warning you John.’ He put his hands up in a fake surrender ‘oooh, usin my full name are we hen? Must be in trouble.’

You saw red.

Leaping across the mats your shoulder connected with his chest in an almighty thud. It knocked him to the floor, winding him. You scrambled to your feet and managed to get a lucky kick into his abdomen. He swiped at your legs and sent you flying backwards, you landed straight in your arse letting out a yelp as you landed.

That’s when Price and Ghost intervened. ‘I’ve had a fuckin tit full of you two’ Ghost shouted, he gripped Soap by the scruff of his collar as he pulled him up. Price was more gentle with you but still pissed. ‘In the meeting room. Now.’ Price ordered as he matched you both out of the gym.

They shoved you into the room and Price stared you both down. ‘Now. I don’t care how you resolve this, but fuckin sort it out! You’re both doin my Swede in and I’ve had a fuck full. I don’t wanna see you again till it’s done. Am I understood?’ His face was stern and unforgiving. He meant business.

You both looked at him, feeling like children who’d been scolded by their father. ‘Yes sir’ you replied together, egos bruised, frustrations near boiling point. ‘Good’ he replied simply before shutting the door.

You sat on one of the tables, eyes fixed on the floor refusing to look at him. He stood opposite, leant against the wall, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he glared at you. ‘What’s your fuckin problem?’ He scowled. You shot your head up to look at him ‘my problem?! My fucking problem?! All you do is wind me up and take the piss out of me. How do you think I’m gonna react? By kissing your boots and thanking you? Fuck off.’ Your face was tight, pure unfiltered rage seeping from your skin.

‘Just banter hen’ he shrugged. Dismissive prick. ‘Don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining John. You’re a dick.’

‘I’m a dick? Talkin some right ol shit there lass. We’re only in here cause o’you!’

‘Because you wouldn’t stop calling me princess, you know I hate it!’

He walked over to you, his feeble attempt to intimidate you. He stood in front of you, arms still crossed, biceps bulging as he lingered there. You glared up at him, mouth pressed into a firm line. ‘Your intimidation tactics don’t work here John. Grow up. You’re nothing but a jumped up nobody from the fuckin slums who got lucky.’ You voice was full of venom, poison seeped from every word.

Gripping your shirt he slammed you backwards onto the desk, panting beneath him you smiled up at him. ‘What’s the matter John? Hit a nerve have I? You know I’m right. You play the jester well, but we all know you’re a pathetic excuse of a man.’ You gripped his hand that was wound within your shirt, you knew you’d gone too far. You knew damn well he was a good solider and one who always had your back on the field. But you were so done with his shit you wanted to hurt him.

He lowered his face to within an inch of yours, his blue eyes a deep void of rage and contempt. His breath fanned over your lips as he desperately tried to regain all control. You offered up a smug grin, chest still heaving, waiting for him to make the next move. He was stood over you, his free hand in a tight fist as he chewed his jaw. Your thighs clenched together ever so gently.

‘What’s the matter Johnny? You look like you wanna hit me or fuck me. Which is it?’

You knew what you wanted.

‘You’re such a fuckin bitch.’

With that his lips came crashing to yours as you flung your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. You nails raked the surface of his scalp as he groaned into your mouth. It was a frenzy of lips, tongue and teeth as you both battled for dominance. Finally letting go of your shirt he cupped your jaw, his calloused thumb pulled at your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist you could feel his hard cock press against your cunt.

Adrenaline surged through you as your heart collided with your ribs. He dropped a hand and pawed at your breast through your shirt. His rough grip pulled a moan from deep within your chest, causing you to dig you nails into the sensitive part of his neck. He hissed slightly as he moved away from your mouth and nipped your ear, ‘knew you wanted t’fuck me’ he smirked as he bit into your neck.

You jolted your hips up at the sudden pain that radiated along your neck, as you bit your lip. He kissed along your collar bone digging his finger tips into your flesh. He’d wanted this for a long time but was too stubborn to admit it. You pissed him off to no end, your perfect voice and body, your natural intelligence, your beauty riled him up something rotten. But my god now he had you, he was going to make you feel just how much he fucking hated you.

You were going to feel his wrath.

‘Off’ he ordered pulling at your top, sitting up you pulled it over your head causing your breasts to bounce. He watched in awe as your body was revealed to him. You soft supple skin, plump breasts, you were positively glowing. ‘So bossy’ you muttered under your breath. Hoping he hadn’t heard. But he did.

He gripped your waist band and pulled you full force to your knees, you let out a hiss of pain as he freed his cock from his shorts. Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally saw what he was hiding in there. It was slightly bigger than average, a thick vein wrapped its self around the thick shaft. The tip already painfully swollen, pre-cum glistening in the dull light of the room.

Without any warning he forced his cock to the back of your throat, you gripped his thighs trying desperately to breathe through your nose. He placed a hand just underneath your jaw as he fucked your throat, ‘knew I’d find a way to shut you up’ he smirked. Eyes screwed shut as he whimpered against the texture of your mouth. Warm and inviting. You looked up at him from your knees, tears threatening to fall as your throat constricted around him.

Salvia gathered around your lips as you let him brutally bury his cock within you. Slight gagging noises bubbled from within you as you reached up and slid your nails down his abdomen. Leaving pretty pink claw marks against his skin. He finally pulled out allowed you to take in a huge inhale, saliva clung to your chin, warm and thick, mixed with his arousal. You swiped it onto your thumb before licking it back into your mouth. He watched open mouthed and panting.

And just like that? You spat it back onto his cock, working his shaft with your hand. Twisting his hand into your hair he pulled you back to your feet ‘too good sweetheart, haven’t finished with you yet.’ Smirking you pulled him back into a wet kiss, he guided you back to the table as he pulled your shorts down. A rough finger swiped along your clothed slit, your panties saturated with your juices. ‘This wet already? Didn’t know you were such a dirty little bitch.’

Pushing him backwards you slid your own fingers into your pants, the sound of your arousal was music to his ears. ‘You gonna talk all day? Or you gonna eat my pussy Johnny?’ You cocked an eyebrow as you bit your lower lip. Within seconds his face was buried in your cunt, his piercing blue eyes strained as he worked his tongue along your clit. Muffled moans of pleasure vibrated against you as he tried to taste every part of you. Rolling your hips against his face only made him hungrier.

He pushed two fingers into you, stretching your hole as he payed extra attention to your clit. Nibbling, sucking, nipping at the bundle of nerves. Sweet sweet moans filled his ears as you desperately tried to cum, the burn from the stretch adding another layer pure pleasure. He felt you start to clench against his fingers, your moans became more breathless and frequent. Not one to cut this time short he pulled out, eliciting a groan of annoyance from you.

‘Not till I say so’ he chided as he pushed his fingers into your mouth. You hummed as you tasted yourself, ‘I fucking hate you’ you hissed as he removed them. He lined himself up and pushed himself all the way in as he lowered his face to yours. ‘If hatin’ me feels this good then I’m your fucking villain.’

You would have rolled your eyes, but his cock felt so good as the tip dragged along your walls. He gripped your jaw forcing it open as he spat a perfect ball of saliva into your mouth.

You swallowed it eagerly dragging your nails along his back, digging them in, desperate to draw blood. His pace was brutal, there was no regard in his movements. He drove his cock as deep as he could into you, wanting to force every single ounce of pleasure from you. Your back arched off the table as he sucked your neck, desperate to mark you. To claim you. There was only one person who could fuck you like this, and that was him.

‘Fuck, Johnny, don’t stop, please’ you begged. He grunted into the crux of your neck, his breath burning into your skin. Your moans had been replaced by desperate gasps for air. Your bodies rubbed together, slick with sweat, pure unfiltered hate and desire.

With that he pulled out and forcefully slammed you face down onto the table, kicking your legs apart. He pushed back into your cunt, the stretch again taking your by surprise. A wide hand made contact with your ass, a satisfying smack rung out in the meeting room. This time he clawed at your back, you gasped as the sudden pain radiated along your spine. Pushing your hips back into him he let out a low chuckle, ‘woulda fucked you months ago if it knew you were this desperate for it.’

‘Fuck, Johnny’ you moaned as he let a ribbon of spit fall onto your tight hole. He watched as your cunt eagerly took his cock before he pushed his thumb into your ass. The extra hole being filled made you feel deliciously full, reaching between your legs your ran your fingers in small circles. He grunted and sighed behind you, his voice gravelly and low as he chased his orgasm. Peering over your shoulder you flashed him a grin that would make the devil blush.

Snaking his free hand around your neck he pulled you back into him, your head arched onto his broad shoulder. He watched you intently, mouth open, eyes fluttering as you tried your hardest to maintain eye contact. His firm hand wrapped easily around your delicate neck, pressing firmly on your pressure points heightening the already dizzying pleasure. His thrusts became slower, more methodical as he neared his climax.

‘You gonna cum for me?’ He whispered above your lips, grip tightening on your throat. ‘Yesyesyesyesyes’ you said, voice quiet and strained. ‘Atta girl … cum on this cock.’ Your pussy clenched around his cock as you came, a powerful wave of pleasure punched you in the stomach. Your moans muffled. Caught against the pressure in your throat. He placed a strangely tender kiss on your lips as you panted into his mouth.

It was then his face twisted, brows furrowed together as a slight whimper burst from his chest. You felt his cock paint your pussy with his cum, pulsating within you. You stood there for a minute, both too euphoric to come down. You smiled against his lips as he dropped his hand to your waist, pulling you in tighter. ‘Mmm could keep my cock in there all day’ he sighed. Nipping his bottom lip ‘we’ll keep makin me hate you and I might just let you.’

———-

Taglist - @griffmors @luminousbeings-crudematter

My little soap gremlins - @brewed-pangolin @deadbranch @dustlandfairytail

[pandapetals]

…i have an idea that im unsure on whether or not i can write it myself & i’m OBSESSED with how well you always characterize logan so hear me out

i’m always thinking about the boxing scene in origins, so perhaps some boxer!logan where he’s teaching his girlfriend self defense in the gym after hours? you can make it as steamy or fluffy as you want!

i’ve just been dying to submit a request because i’m a fan of your work <3

AHH, thank you so much. I love your account so much! I have been wanting to write about Boxer Logan for some time so this request is literally perfect.

boxer!logan howlett x fem!reader - fluff, fighting, teasing, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, soft logan, established relationship

"Alright, sweetheart," Logan said, his voice a low rumble that echoed off the empty gym walls. He stood in front of you, hands casually raised. The white tank top he wore clung to his chest, damp with sweat, and the sheen of it caught in the flickering overhead lights. He rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing in a way that seemed entirely unfair. "You gotta learn how to defend yourself."

You fiddled with the straps of the red gloves he’d given you, tugging at them. "I know, Logan," you said, arching a brow, "but do we really need to do this? I mean, c’mon—what’s the point? I don’t want to hurt you."

He laughed, the sound warm and deep. "Hurt me? Darlin’, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried." He tilted his head at you. "But you’re welcome to give it a shot."

You narrowed your eyes, torn between amusement and the urge to wipe that smug look off his face. He looked too at ease, standing there with his hands up and that teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, fine," you huffed, stepping forward. "But don’t come crying to me if I accidentally break that pretty nose of yours."

"Pretty?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"You would," you muttered under your breath.

Logan spread his feet into a fighting stance, nodding toward you. "C’mon, then. First lesson—don’t telegraph. You gotta keep me guessing." He raised a hand to gesture toward your shoulder. "See, you’re tense here. Makes it obvious what you’re about to do. Relax."

"Relax? That’s easy for you to say," you shot back, shaking out your arms. "You don’t have to punch you."

"Exactly," he said with a wink. "Now focus. Don’t think. Just swing."

Taking a deep breath, you stepped in and threw a jab toward his chest—not too hard, but enough to show you meant business. Logan dodged it effortlessly, leaning to the side as though it were a breeze that brushed past him. He gave you an almost pitying look, clicking his tongue.

"Sloppy," he teased, circling you like a predator playing with its prey. "That all you got, sweetheart? I thought you said you didn’t wanna hurt me."

You glared at him, your cheeks heating. "Oh, I will hurt you, Logan," you shot back, a spark of determination lighting in your chest. "Just wait."

He chuckled, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. "That’s more like it. Now stop aiming for where I am—aim for where I’m gonna be."

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing as you watched him move. He was testing you, but there was something about the glint in his eye—like he was enjoying this, not just the sparring, but you. You tried to read him, to guess his next step, and when he shifted ever so slightly, you swung again, this time aiming lower.

To your surprise, he stepped right into it, catching your gloved hand in his palm with a sharp smack. His grip was firm but careful, and he grinned down at you, clearly pleased. "Not bad," he said, his voice softening. "You’re getting there."

You groaned, tugging your hand back. "You let me get that one."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, the cocky edge returning. "But you still gotta work on your follow-through. What if I wasn’t nice enough to stop it, huh?"

"Nice? You’re about as nice as a brick wall," you muttered, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding—not from exertion, but from the way he was looking at you.

Logan’s grin softened into something almost fond. "You’ve got more fight in you than you think," he said, reaching out to gently adjust your stance. His hands lingered on your shoulders for just a second before he stepped back. "Now, one more time. And this time, I want you to mean it."

You nodded, steeling yourself. He was still smirking, but there was something else there too—a flicker of pride, maybe, or just the satisfaction of seeing you rise to the challenge. Whatever it was, you weren’t about to let him down.

You shifted your weight, fixing your gaze on his chest as if it were a target. Then, without warning, you lunged forward, throwing your whole body into the punch. He moved to dodge, but this time you were ready—you adjusted mid-swing, your fist just grazing his ribs. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him blink, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"Well, look at that," Logan said, stepping back and rubbing his side with exaggerated drama. "You almost got me."

"Almost?" you said, crossing your arms. "Pretty sure I felt that connect." 

"Sure, sure," he said, smirking as he leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Next time, maybe try a little harder. You might even make me flinch."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Whatever, let’s just go again.” You stepped back, shaking out your hands like a boxer psyching themselves up.

Logan smirked, circling you slowly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and challenge. His confidence was infuriating—like he was untouchable, always one step ahead. But as he moved, you caught his focus was on your gloves, like he thought that was all you had to work with.

Big mistake.

You let your shoulders drop, exhaling slowly as if you were done. "Alright, you win," you said, feigning defeat. "You’re too good, Logan. I give up."

He tilted his head, one brow quirking in suspicion, but the grin never left his face. "Oh, c’mon now, don’t quit on me, sweetheart. Where’s that fire I saw a minute ago?"

"It’s gone," you sighed dramatically, letting your gloves hang at your sides. Then, as he paused in his pacing, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Logan’s smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he sensed something coming.

Instead of throwing a punch, you leaned in and kissed him.

For a split second, Logan froze. His lips were warm and slightly parted, caught completely off guard by the sudden move. You felt his breath hitch against your mouth, and then—just as he started to kiss you back—you shifted your weight and swept your foot behind his ankle, knocking him clean off balance.

“Whoa—!” Logan grunted as he hit the mat with a thud, his broad shoulders absorbing most of the impact. He blinked up at you in shock, sprawled out flat on his back.

You straightened, grinning down at him as you tugged your gloves off one by one and tossed them aside. “Gotcha,” you said, hands on your hips.

He stared up at you, and you couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed. Then, a slow, lazy smile spread across his face, and he let out a low chuckle that made your stomach flip. "Well, I’ll be damned. That was sneaky."

You crouched down beside him, trying to look innocent. “What’s the matter, big guy? Can’t handle a little creative thinking?”

“Creative thinking, huh?” Logan propped himself up on his elbows, his grin turning wolfish. “I don’t think that counts when you cheat.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “Cheat? Cheat? I think you’re just mad I finally got the drop on you.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” he drawled, his tone playful but laced with a hint of a challenge. Before you could blink, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you forward. You let out a startled laugh as you tumbled down onto the mat, landing half on top of him.

“Logan!” you protested, trying to pull back, but his arms wrapped around your waist holding you in place. He was grinning up at you now, his eyes bright with amusement that made your breath catch.

“You’re gettin’ cocky, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But I gotta admit, that was a hell of a move.”

You smirked, leaning in just enough to meet his gaze head-on. “Guess you’re not as quick as you thought you were, huh?”

“Careful,” he murmured, his fingers brushing along your side. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might have to teach you another lesson.”

“Oh yeah?” you shot back, your voice dropping to match his. “And what’s that?”

Instead of answering, Logan pulled you down the rest of the way and kissed you, slow and deliberate. His lips were warm and firm, and he kissed like he fought—with total confidence and just a hint of something wild beneath the surface. The world narrowed to just the two of you: the heat of his body against yours, the rough scrape of his stubble, the way his hand slid up your back like he didn’t want to let you go.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his voice was a low, satisfied rumble. “Lesson one,” he said, his smirk returning. “Never let your guard down.”

[webslingingslasher]

peter is so fine i just know guys hit on him too like… everyone wants him

in my head he directs every hot guy that flirts with him to ethan & sets him up with hot guys

oh also, i can see him being like ‘no this guys way better’ when ethan goes up to someone at a party djdjdjs

yes but peter is a bit more dumb when it comes to guys flirting with him.

'hey.'

peter's chin rises as an acknowledgement. 'hey, man.' he throws back the rest of his beer, he misses the way his mouth is watched when it wraps around the bottle, and the heavy eyes on his shoulders when he leans on the counter.

'is this your frat?' peter reaches for another beer, he offers one to the guy next to him, their fingers brush, peter says nothing about it. 'yeah, all three years. are you in a house?'

he shakes his head, 'nah. not my thing, most guys in them aren't so, ah.. tolerating, you know?' peter shrugs, 'yeah, sure, man. sig is pretty cool, it's pretty tolerable.'

the guy laughs, a little too hard, his elbow bounces off peter's arm. his hand sticks out, 'eric, nice to meet you.' peter holds out his own, he's expecting a firm grip but eric is delicate. 'parker.'

'what are you majoring in, parker?' it feels like they're holding hands, it's gone on a little too long. peter pulls away first, eric bites back a smile. 'uh, physics.'

'ooh, you're smart, aren't you? that's a bit of a curveball.' peter feels a little insulted. 'are you saying that because i'm in a frat? what, that means i can't be smart? tell me, what's your major, communications?'

eric raises his hands, 'easy, tiger.' peter blinks, he thinks of you for a second. 'i just meant i didn't expect you to be a nerd under... all that.' eric tucks the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth, peter takes a small step back, he feels like he's being observed.

'graphic design, by the way. you know what, you're really handsome, i could do a quick sketch for you.' peter feels a spark, it's not everyday another guy calls him handsome.

'hey, man. you're handsome, too.' peter's had a few beers, he misses the way eric's eyes light up. peter slides a napkin over, he tears open a drawer, a pen produced.

'alright, how do you want me to pose?'

'hm, naked?' peter finds him funny, 'yeah, let me just whip it out in front of the crowd.' eric starts the scribbles, a rough outline at first. 'or we could take it to your room?'

peter pauses, eric is detailing his lips, he never knew they could look so luscious on a napkin drawing. 'what's in my room?' eric initials the sketch, it's wildly detailed for being done in a minute.

'your dick? preferably in my mouth?'

peter drops his mouth open, his hands wave back and forth. 'no! i'm so sorry, but no! i have like, a girlfriend. not gay, i mean, i love them- you- fuck, you know what i mean, but i'm not one. a gay person, i mean. but my best friend is half gay and he's really cool, like, cooler than me and the gay thing is only like a fraction why.'

eric looks off to the side, peter grabs his shoulders. 'dude, this happens to me all the time. it's no big deal, but you know who is? ethan. he's super into plants, it's like his whole thing. you like me so you'll like him. trust.'

'alright, i'll meet your friend.' peter cheers and tugs him out the kitchen by his arm, 'i promise you, dude. dick sucking will happen tonight, you're welcome.' 

[candyeager]

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋

— gojo satoru x fem!oc

CHAPTER TEN 3.4k words

short synopsis. in which her marriage to Satoru Gojo, the world's most arrogant and untouchable sorcerer becomes both a chain and a cure. warnings. graphic violence, murder, blood mentions, disorder eating, implied sexual threats, suggestive themes. tags. gojo x fem!oc, arranged marriage, angst with happy ending, eventual fluff, heavy pining/yearning, emotional detachment. oc is an empath.

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Satoru

Eight years ago / Year 2006 

The afternoon sun was setting, casting long shadows across the basketball court. The first-year and second-year students at Jujutsu High had just finished a grueling field training, and now they were taking a much-needed break. The sound of a basketball bouncing echoed lightly, Satoru spinning it lazily on his finger as he sat on the bench. He looked bored, his usual energy dimmed by the mundane conversation.

Haibara was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, a soft smile on his face as he looked at the others. "Have you guys ever thought about getting married?" he asked suddenly, the question cutting through the silence.

Satoru let out a loud sigh, clearly unimpressed. "What, are we sitting around thinking about romance now?" he muttered, spinning the ball faster. 

Suguru, leaning back with his arms resting behind his head, chuckled. "I don't know, Haibara. Do you have someone in mind?" 

Shoko, who was sitting cross-legged on the bench next to Satoru, grinned mischievously. "Ooh, Haibara's got a crush?" she teased, giving him a playful nudge with a foot.

Haibara waved his hands frantically, his face turning a bright shade of red. "N-No! I just mean... as sorcerers, can we even think about stuff like that? We're always, you know... risking our lives and all that..." His voice trailed off, a bit sheepish but genuinely curious.

Nanami, sitting with his arms resting on his knees, gave a slight nod. "That's actually a good question," he said seriously. "Marriage is a commitment, and it requires stability—something we don't have. In our world, we don't get the luxury of a peaceful life. It'd be irresponsible to think about it too much now."

Suguru chuckled softly. "Nanami, always so practical." 

Nanami didn't react, his expression firm. "But if you ask me if I'd want to... then, yes. I'd like to start a family. Not now, obviously. But maybe in the future... after retiring." 

Shoko, resting her chin in her hand, smirked. "By the time you retire, you'll be, what? Fifty?" She shrugged. "You'll be the old guy on the altar."

The group laughed, even Nanami cracking a small smile, though he didn't disagree.

Haibara grinned, encouraged by Nanami's answer. "Right? I'd like to get married too someday. You know, settle down, have a family."

Suguru turned his head to the side, his expression softening as he seemed to reflect on the question. "Marriage, huh? I've thought about it a little, but it doesn't feel right for me. Not now, at least. There's too much to take care of in the world. Maybe if things were different... if the world were a better place, I'd consider it."

There was a quiet murmur of agreement from the group. They all knew what he meant—the weight of their responsibilities as jujutsu sorcerers, the danger that lurked in every corner.

Shoko stretched her arms above her head lazily, her expression indifferent. "Really? If it's up to me... Meh. Not really my thing. It sounds like a lot of work. I don't really see the point, personally. Plus, who has time for all that 'forever' stuff?"

Suguru gave her a sidelong glance, his tone playful yet sincere. "I think you'd surprise yourself, Shoko. Maybe you'd make a great wife."

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Is that so?" 

Their eyes met for a long moment, and the air between them seemed to shift. There was an unspoken understanding, a subtle connection that lingered in the space between them.

Haibara blinked, sitting up straighter. "Wait. Are you two flirting?"

Suguru cleared his throat, looking away with a small cough, while Shoko simply chuckled and reached into her pocket for a cigarette, unbothered.

Suguru, trying to recover his composure, turned to Satoru, who had been unusually quiet during the exchange. "Satoru, you've been quiet. What do you think? Ever picture yourself settling down?"

Satoru, who had been half-listening, half-distracted, shrugged, clearly uninterested. "Me? Marriage? Nah." 

Suguru gave him a flat look. "What kind of answer is that?" 

Haibara chimed in with a grin. "Yeah, Gojo! Surely you've thought about it too, right? I mean, even you must have thought about settling down someday."

Satoru's eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. "What's with all this marriage talk? It's so... boring." He leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head as if the topic wasn't even worth his time.

Then Shoko, who had been leaning against the bench next to him, casually dropped a bomb. "Isn't Satoru already engaged to someone?"

The entire group froze.

Nanami, who had just taken a sip from his water bottle, choked mid-gulp, coughing violently. Haibara's eyes widened in shock. "Nanami, are you okay?" 

Nanami waved him off, coughing into his sleeve before regaining his composure. He looked at Satoru, blinking in disbelief. "Engaged?"

Suguru's mouth fell open as he stared at Satoru like he'd just heard the most absurd thing in the world. "Wait—what? You?"

Satoru's expression remained bored, not bothering to deny it.

Shoko smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos she'd caused. "I overheard it in the faculty lounge. Something about an arranged marriage. Right, Satoru? You're already engaged, riiight?"

Everyone turned to him, waiting for an answer.

Satoru kept spinning the ball, seemingly unfazed by the sudden attention. After a long pause, he finally said, "Yeah, something like that."

That casual reply was enough to send a ripple through the group. 

Suguru blinked. "And you didn't think to mention it?"

Nanami, still recovering from his earlier coughing fit, frowned. "Arranged marriage? That sounds like a lot of unnecessary pressure. Especially for someone like you."

Haibara, ever the optimist, beamed. "That's awesome, Gojo! What's she like? You must be pretty happy, huh?"

Satoru tossed the ball toward the hoop, watching it bounce off the rim. "I don't know. Haven't seen her in years."

Haibara tilted his head, genuinely curious. "What's her name?"

There was a brief pause. Satoru's expression remained blank, but his mind raced. Her name? Her name...? His brow furrowed slightly as he searched his memory, but all that came up was the image of a little girl—small, defiant, with an angry face—standing across from him when they were seven years old. Sanzu something. 

Satoru blinked, realizing with a mix of mild annoyance and surprise that he'd forgotten her name. "Sanzu... uh... Sanzu something..."

Suguru's jaw dropped. "You don't even remember her name?"

Shoko let out a short laugh, smoke trailing from the cigarette she had just lit. "That's cold, Satoru. Even for you."

Satoru leaned back, his posture lazy but his mind a bit more active than before. Since he started at Jujutsu High, the arranged marriage had slipped to the back of his mind, something he barely thought about—just another formality of being Satoru Gojo, part of the strongest sorcerer clan. And now, sitting there with his friends, he realized just how detached he was from the whole thing. 

He didn't even remember her name, let alone what she looked like now. 

The others continued to nag at him, their voices a distant hum as they teased him about forgetting his future wife's name. But Satoru barely heard them, his gaze fixed on the court, his thoughts somewhere else entirely.

How did she look now? Was she still that angry girl he remembered? Had she changed? He hadn't seen her in years, not since that day. And truth be told, he had almost forgotten she existed. 

With a sigh, Satoru stood up, dusting off his pants as if to shake off the weight of the conversation. "This is boring," he declared, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. "Let's play ball."

The others exchanged glances, knowing that meant he wasn't interested in talking about it anymore. But they couldn't help but smile. Typical Satoru—always avoiding anything that made him feel even a little uncomfortable.

As they picked up the ball again and started a half-hearted game of basketball, Satoru's mind wandered for just a moment longer.

'Sanzu... what was her name again?'

Satoru rarely bothered to return home during school breaks. The idea of being cooped up in the Gojo household with clan elders breathing down his neck, droning on about duties and expectations, was hardly appealing. But it had been two years since he'd shown his face, and apparently, that was long enough to stir up complaints. Begrudgingly, he'd decided to make an appearance.

Standing in the grand hall of the Gojo estate, he barely paid attention as servants bustled around him, adjusting his haori for the upcoming ceremony. Satoru stood still, not lifting a finger. He didn't need to. Being the pride of the clan came with certain privileges—one of which was never having to do anything mundane, like putting on his own clothes. 

His mind wandered as he listened to the dull hum of voices discussing his future clan duties and the weight of his title as the first person to inherit both the Limitless and the Six Eyes in four hundred years. He found it all tiresome. He was seventeen, after all. He just wanted to enjoy his youth, but being part of the Gojo clan, one of the Big Three Sorcerer Families, meant freedom was always out of reach. Someone was always watching. Always expecting.

When the servants finished dressing him, Satoru was ushered out into the hall. He would've continued on, ignoring the world around him, but something stopped him. His ears caught the hushed whispers of female servants nearby, their conversation filled with the usual gossip. He usually tuned it out, but this time, a name caught his attention.

"...I heard that Sanzu girl has gone missing again. Some servants from the family said they're searching for her now."

Satoru's interest piqued. 'Sanzu?' He slowed his steps, feigning disinterest but listening closely.

"Again? How many times has it been now?" one servant asked.

"I think it's the fifth time this year? She keeps disappearing."

The others gasped softly, their tone filled with judgment. "Gosh, what's her issue?"

"Rebellion, maybe? I heard she ran away to the city to smoke or something."

"Disgraceful! Won't she be a stain on Satoru-sama's name later?"

"I know right? So scandalous..."

Satoru smirked. 'So, she's a troublemaker too, huh?' He could almost respect that. It reminded him of himself, back before he left for Jujutsu High. He'd had his own fair share of running away—sneaking off to escape the suffocating world of clan duties and expectations. At least someone else had the guts to do the same.

As the ceremony dragged on, Satoru sat in his designated seat, propping his chin up on one hand, clearly uninterested in the formal performances playing out in front of him. He slouched in his seat, his white hair falling over his eyes. His mind wandered back to the gossip about the Sanzu girl. He didn't know much about her, aside from the fact that she was his fiancée—a deal struck between their families. He'd never cared to learn more.

His gaze eventually drifted toward the row of clan leaders seated nearby, a sea of serious faces in traditional attire. But one seat caught his attention. It was empty. The chair bearing the Sanzu clan insignia.

Boredom now mixed with curiosity, Satoru leaned back and glanced at his handler, the man assigned to watch over him while he was home.

"Why's that seat empty?" he asked casually, though there was a faint glint of interest in his eyes.

The handler blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Satoru to ask such a thing. "Ah, I believe the leader couldn't attend because he's unwell."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "That's her father, right?"

The handler paused for a moment, realization dawning on him as he understood what Satoru was really asking about. "Yes, Satoru-sama. That is Kurai Sanzu's father."

Kurai Sanzu. 

'Kurai, huh?' Satoru repeated in his mind, rolling the name around as if testing its weight. So that was her name.

He smirked again, eyes glinting with amusement as he sat back. Kurai, the rebellious fiancée. There was a certain irony to it—two people shackled by the weight of their prestigious families, both of them looking for a way to break free. 

He didn't dwell on it for long, though. His attention shifted back to the ceremony, his boredom returning. But somewhere in the back of his mind, a small spark of curiosity lingered. 

Perhaps this arranged marriage wasn't going to be as dull as he had initially assumed.

The city buzzed around them, a sharp contrast to the eerie silence of the cursed mission they had just finished. With Yaga gone to handle paperwork, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were left to their own devices, wandering the lively streets with no particular destination in mind. The atmosphere was light, relaxed—a rare moment for the second-year students of Jujutsu High.

As they passed by a market stall, Satoru suddenly stopped, his sharp eyes catching sight of a familiar treat.

"Hold up," Satoru said, stopping abruptly. "I want to grab some kikufuku."

Shoko sighed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. "Don't you ever get tired of those?"

Suguru chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets as they waited for Satoru to make his purchase. "You'd think with how much he eats, he'd be sick of it by now."

"Why would I when it's perfect every time?" Satoru shot back, already making his way to the vendor.

Suguru and Shoko hung back, waiting as Satoru made his purchase. It wasn't long before two girls approached him, giggling and clearly intrigued by the tall sorcerer. Shoko watched the scene unfold with an arched brow while Suguru looked on, hands still casually tucked in his pockets.

"Hi, you're really handsome," one of the girls said shyly, her friend giggling beside her.

Satoru's sunglasses shifted slightly as he grinned, turning on the charm. "Oh, well, I do hear that a lot. But coming from you two? It means so much more."

One of the girls blushed, holding out a small slip of paper. "Here's my number."

Just as Satoru's hand reached out to take it, Suguru smoothly stepped forward, his voice calm yet firm. "Sorry to break it to you, but Satoru here's already spoken for."

Satoru's jaw nearly dropped, eyes widening behind his sunglasses. The girls blinked, clearly confused. "Wait, what? Spoken for?"

Suguru nodded, his expression not giving away even a hint of a joke. "Yep. He's got a fiancée. Big fancy engagement and everything."

The girls exchanged startled glances before quickly pulling their number back. "Seriously? You should've said something sooner!" 

Embarrassed, they left in a hurry, leaving Satoru standing there with a look of utter disbelief.

"Suguru, what the hell, man?" Satoru's tone was exasperated, but the playful glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "I had that under control."

Suguru offered a nonchalant shrug, not even trying to hide his smirk. "Consider it an act of mercy—for their sake."

Shoko snorted, lighting a cigarette as she leaned against a nearby wall. "You just got cockblocked by your best friend. Impressive."

Satoru sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Of all the things you could've said, that was your choice?"

Shoko blew out a cloud of smoke, her eyes half-lidded as she spoke. "Honestly? I'm just surprised you kept this whole fiancée thing a secret for so long. Pretty bold move for you."

Suguru nodded, his eyes narrowing just a bit in mock seriousness. "Yeah, and you don't even know her name. What's that about?"

Satoru crossed his arms, clearly done with the conversation but knowing his friends well enough to realize they wouldn't let it go easily. "It's not a big deal," he muttered, already trying to brush it off. 

He wasn't about to admit that he did, in fact, know her name. Kurai Sanzu. But honestly, why bother telling them that? He had enough on his plate without bringing up some arranged marriage he hadn't asked for.

Satoru strolled away from Suguru and Shoko, feeling their teasing voices fade into the background as he wandered through the streets. They had stopped to light up cigarettes, Shoko's usual habit and Suguru joining her, their casual banter suggesting they might be flirting. Satoru rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, feeling a familiar sense of boredom creeping in.

The city's streets were noisy and alive, but Satoru could easily tune out the bustling energy around him. Nothing seemed to capture his interest—until he saw her.

A raven-haired girl stood at the smoking area, cigarette in hand, though it was clear from the way she coughed that she wasn't used to it. She was dressed in oversized clothes that didn't seem to fit her, and Satoru couldn't help but think how out of place she looked.

Satoru's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. That face—he knew that face. It took him a second, but then it hit him. Kurai. The face resurfaced in his mind from the distant memories of his childhood. He hadn't seen her in ten years, not since they were seven, and here she was, now seventeen, just like him. Her face was almost the same, just older, more jaded. 

She was surrounded by a few men who were obviously eyeing her in a way that made Satoru frown, but she didn't seem to care. He briefly considered stepping in, but stayed where he was, observing.

One of the men grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her closer. "C'mon, don't be like that. Play with us a little more, yeah?"

Satoru's lips twitched in mild amusement. It wasn't his business, but he'd stick around just to see how this played out.

Kurai didn't hesitate. Her face remained as expressionless as ever as she swung her fist up, striking the man square in the face with a sharp, clean punch. The man staggered back, stunned.

"Don't touch me with your filthy hand," she muttered, her voice devoid of any real emotion.

The men blinked in shock, too dumbfounded to retaliate. One by one, they backed off, grumbling under their breath as they left her alone. Kurai stood there for a moment, expression unreadable, before turning and walking away as if nothing had happened.

Satoru watched her go, his curiosity piqued. He wasn't exactly interested, but there was something odd about her. Without thinking too much about it, he followed her from a distance, his hands tucked into his pockets as he trailed her with his usual lazy gait.

He watched her slip into a back alley, where his sharp eyes caught sight of a cursed spirit lurking in the shadows. It was a grotesque thing, a blob of distorted features and malice, its voice an eerie hiss that echoed down the alley.

"Come closer, girl..." the curse sneered, its twisted form shifting. "Let me have you."

Kurai stood her ground, unbothered, even as the creature's malevolent energy filled the space. She took a drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a nonchalant air. "Why? So you can kill me?"

"Yes," the curse hissed, a twisted grin forming on its monstrous face. "Come... let me devour you."

Kurai tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing at the spirit as though it were nothing more than an inconvenience. "But I don't want to turn ugly like you," she said, her voice flat, dismissive.

The curse's rage flared at her words, its grotesque form swelling as it charged toward her, claws extended. But Kurai didn't flinch. She turned her back on the curse, fully expecting it to kill her, yet showing no fear or concern.

Before Satoru could even think, his body moved on instinct. He didn't know why, but in that split second, he flicked his hand in a lazy arc. A pulse of cursed energy crackled in the air. 

Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.

The force tore through the alley like a collapsing vortex, hitting the curse with pinpoint precision. The creature imploded violently, its grotesque body splattering across the walls, blood and viscera raining down in a sudden burst. Kurai, now standing motionless, her shirt smeared with the remnants of the curse, stared at the place where the monster had been.

She blinked, startled but quickly composed herself. Without sparing another glance at the carnage, she turned on her heel and ran, clearly unaware of who had saved her. Satoru watched her disappear down the alleyway, his arms crossed as he let out a sigh, half-amused and half-baffled.

He didn't even know why he interfered. It wasn't like he cared. But still, he had acted. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was just the thrill of using his power. Or maybe, deep down, there was something about her—about Kurai—that kept him from looking away. 

He shoved his hands back into his pockets, smirking to himself as he turned back toward the market. "Not bad," he muttered under his breath. "Not bad at all."

< chapter ten ends >

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[milla984]

A Million Reasons

Summary: after a phone call from Penelope, Reader teases Spencer about a potential love interest and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff with a little angst

TW/CW: a little bit of angst, brief mentions of food, self-doubt, mentions of anxiety, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

Thank you @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read this!

The following work is my entry for @andiebeaword's 3,000 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge (prompt n. 12) and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

Spencer scooped out of the paper cup what was left of his ice cream before he finished recounting the events leading to the arrest of the unsub the entire BAU team had been successfully tracking down in Seattle during the past few days. 

“He’ll be charged with ten counts of murder, one attempted murder, and unlawful possession of multiple weapons. He’s facing ten life sentences without parole.”

“Way to go, Justice League!” you cheered, enthusiastic. 

He tucked his hair behind his ear with a cute chuckle. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow so you caught a glimpse of his wristwatch reflecting the light of a lamp post standing along the edge of the walking path; from the bench you were both sitting on you could see the illuminated dome of the US Capitol rising up against the dark mid-summer sky. 

Despite being within walking distance of a major street in the southwest quadrant of Washington, the park was quiet and uncrowded and the nearby gelato shop was one of Spencer’s favorites. 

You took the last sip of your drink, acting very casual. “And that’s all that happened?” 

He shrugged, unsure about which crucial information could have been missing from his story since he was under strict instructions not to fill you in on the most gruesome details of the cases he’d worked.

“Uhm, graphic descriptions of tortures and mutilations are not—”

“I’m talking about a certain homicide detective… the one you gave your number to…?” you explained and his jaw dropped instantly.

“What?!”

You nudged at him with your elbow. “Garcia called me from the Original Starbucks in Pike Place. I couldn’t tell if the hype was about your new admirer or being there.”

“I don't understand how this is such a big deal!” he blurted out in a high-pitched voice. “She showed an interest in what we do so I gave her my card.”

No profiling skills were required to detect his firm intention to avoid discussing the matter, yet the words came out of your mouth like a river in spate. 

“Any chance it wasn’t only a professional interest?”

The way Spencer looked at you, disappointed and hurt, hit you worse than a punch in the liver. 

“What’s with you, guys?! Are– are you all so invested in my personal life because you’re convinced I’m chronically unable to have one without your help?” he snapped, something you’d never seen him do. 

“I’m s—” you tried to reply, even though he was still too angry to let you apologize and cut you off again.

“Or maybe it’s that I’m no Derek Morgan, so why would someone even notice I exist, right?”

“Seriously?! An IQ of 187 and this is the best inference you can come up with?” you snorted, upset by the subtle insult he’d thrown at you - even if you had to admit you deserved it.

His brows furrowed. “Then why did you bring this up?” 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry. I truly am,” you admitted, “and the Derek Morgan type is not the one I’d go for, just so you know. I don’t think that people hitting on you is funny or weird, it’s… I’m just surprised it doesn’t happen more often. There, I said it.”

He remained silent for a while, quite aware that Penelope’s inability to keep her mouth shut generated from genuine excitement about what she perceived as good news; sharing such personal information with you meant you had been put to the test over and over and, in the end, deemed worthy of her trust. 

The peaceful atmosphere around you served as an amplifier for the sound of splashing water and Spencer indicated the fountain at the center of the large, round basin in front of you with a jerk of his head. 

“I read a book about the architectural history of D.C. on the way back. This piece was created for the 1876 Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the US Congress acquired it in 1877 and placed it at the base of Capitol Hill. It was dismantled in 1926, then it remained in storage until 1932 when they moved it here.”

The pedestal held three twin iron-casted sea nymphs wearing wet tunics, with their arms raised above their heads to support a shallow vasque; on top was a group of kneeling child tritons, and the base was decorated with turtle-like aquatic creatures.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled.

The fact he’d for sure started and finished said book in less than fifteen minutes was among the 999.999 entries in your list of reasons to crush over SSA Reid.  And so were his three PhDs, his crooked ties, his passion for Star Wars, chess and Halloween.

“I don’t talk much about my private life. Especially outside of work,” he confessed after a pause. “A lot of times I have a hard time discussing personal issues—”

“Spencer… you know you don’t owe me an explanation, right?” you rushed to clarify.

He nodded and you did the same in response, to confirm you had no intention of pressuring him into opening up if he felt uncomfortable yet you were also ready to listen to anything he had to say; even in dim light, you could see the sadness veiling his beautiful hazel eyes.   

“Garcia was being Garcia, with her ‘look at the world through rose-colored glasses’ scenarios. I gave my card to a homicide detective to discuss behavioral sciences, it was just what it sounds like. But I understand where she’s coming from, I never told her…”

Your whole body tensed up, courtesy of a rush of anxiety triggered by the possibility of him being already involved with someone he had never mentioned, not even to his closest friends; you wondered if he could hear the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Luckily for you, Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m trying to come to terms with something I’ve been feeling, for weeks now. And I’m worried, because of what happened in the past and I can’t let go of…” his voice broke a little, so he swallowed. “Deep down I’m afraid I'm not the type of person who gets to live out happily ever after.” 

Refraining from hugging him on the spot and holding him close to your heart had gotten increasingly difficult lately, so you settled for a peck on his temple in a clumsy attempt at a comforting gesture.

You feared the worst when he looked at you for a moment that seemed to last forever; you certainly didn’t expect him to lean forward to cup your face in his hands - big hands.  With slender, elegant fingers he tenderly brushed over your cheeks.

You both held your breath, waiting for the distance between you to vanish until your foreheads touched and the tips of your noses rubbed together. 

“... are we really doing this?!” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

You smiled. “Don’t make me wait for another six months.”

Spencer squinted, an indication he was browsing countless data stored in his memory, then he eventually pinpointed the exact moment you fell for him and squeaked in surprise. 

“Christm—”

You pressed your palm on the nape of his neck, guiding his lips over yours for what you both had been longing for. 

Reason number 1.000.000: Dr. Reid was one hell of a kisser.

@thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Keep It Undercover

Summary: You and Bradley had shared a few beautiful weeks together, years after first meeting. You had been content with leaving it as a beautiful, delicious memory; something that could have been, if the stars would have aligned. Only now he was stationed in Fightertown permanently, and while he didn’t know what exactly that meant for the two of you long term, he knew what he wanted. He didn’t care about your age or that you outranked him. After all, he had always liked his girls a little bit older. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Smut. Language, Bradley with an older woman which is a warning in and of itself. Secret relationship, maybe?

Word Count: 4.4K

Notes: Written for @roosterforme's '80s Rocktober challenge using the song Your Love by The Outfield. I've been wanting to write this dynamic for MONTHS and am so excited to finally do it!

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“We shouldn’t be doing this here.” 

Bradley nodded his agreement, even as he nearly ripped your uniform shirt in his haste to unbutton it and get it off of you. He pressed his lips to yours in a desperate, messy kiss. “I know that. But here we are.” 

You groaned against his mouth. “We should stop.” But even as you said it, you were undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his service khakis. He cursed when you squeezed his erection through his briefs and pushed you back into the desk, the stapler teetering on the edge of the mahogany before crashing to the ground. 

You were right. You absolutely should stop. Bradley hadn’t even come in here for this. He had just wanted to see you. To maybe surprise you if you didn’t already know he was coming. And you hadn’t, and the look on your face when he knocked on your door had been everything he could have wanted. But it had been weeks since he had been able to get his hands on you, and things had escalated once you were in the same room, and now that he was here - 

A sharp knock on the door echoed in the room, and you pushed him off of you so quickly that he almost tripped. He grabbed onto the chair in front of the desk to stop himself from hitting the floor.  

“Commander? Your next meeting is here.” 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered under your breath, hastily buttoning your uniform shirt back up and smoothing back the regulation bun your hair was kept in. You gestured for him to right himself with a frantic hand, your eyes urgent. “Hurry up!” 

Bradley could have screamed. He had been so close. So close. 

But instead he groaned in defeat and zipped his pants back up. He hissed in discomfort, still half hard, and despite your embarrassment at almost getting caught and your absolute unwillingness to risk doing so, he thought he saw a small smirk curve on those gorgeous lips of yours. 

“This is your fault,” he said pointedly, and you shrugged a shoulder as you turned to walk away from him. His arm shot out before you could get far. Your skin was soft and smooth under his where he gripped your bicep and hauled you close to him.  Before you could protest, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. Your eyes were narrowed when he pulled away, and Bradley couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. He released you and took a step back even as you pushed him away, no real effort in the shove. “Am I dismissed?”

The look on your face was unimpressed, but he saw the muscle in your cheek twitch. You rolled your eyes and pointed at the door as you settled into your office chair. “Get out of my office, Lieutenant. And send in my next meeting.” 

He turned on his heel with a silent chuckle. His hand was on the doorknob when you called his name. He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you. You had let the professional mask slip, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. You were quiet for a beat, and then you let yourself smile at him - soft and gentle and enough to make his heart skip a beat. And then your words sent it racing. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

He had been content to leave the room, but now he wanted to kiss you again. He crossed the room with large, quick strides. You barely had time to gasp before he was rounding your desk and cupping your face in his big hands, leaning down. It was over as quickly as it started, but he gave himself a half a moment to breathe you in, his nose nudging against yours. 

“Me too, Commander.” 

___

Bradley tried not to be obvious as he watched you from across the bar. You were nursing a beer that he knew was your favorite. Just like he knew it tasted better on your tongue than it did from the glass. He had found that fact out the last time the two of you were in the Hard Deck at the same time, and he hoped tonight would end up just the same. 

He had clocked you as soon as you walked through the doors, and his eyes had been trailing after you ever since. You were sitting with a few of your fellow officers. Your hair was down, loose and kind of wild in a way that drove him crazy. Your low cut black shirt hugged your chest, and you were in jeans so tight he thought maybe they were painted on. He knew he wasn’t the only one looking, but he wondered, hoped, you had changed your clothes after work with him in mind. 

You turned your head to scan the bar and paused when your eyes landed on him. You looked away quickly, but not before your eyes raked over him from head to toe. He saw the way you shifted in your seat and smirked as he took a sip of his beer. 

“I hope you’re not thinking of going down that road again.” 

He was so focused on you that Nat’s voice came as a surprise to him as she slid onto the bar stool beside him, and Bradley felt a flash of panic go through him at her words. There was no way she should know about that. You were careful last time around, and today was the first time Bradley had seen you since arriving back in California. When he turned to her, his best friend’s face was drawn into a sneer that didn’t hide her judgment for a moment. She wasn’t looking at him though, and he followed her gaze with wide eyes. He let out a silent sigh of relief when he realized it wasn’t you who she was glaring at. As his heart rate slowed, he felt his own mouth twist into a frown at the sight of who was sitting a few tables away from you.

“Josie? Absolutely not, Nat. Come on. You should know better.”  

She snickered into her beer bottle and took a long pull of it, giving him a pointed look. “And I would hope you would too.” 

Bradley wanted to tell her that it wasn’t his ex-girlfriend who he was looking at. But doing that would probably give both of you away, and that wasn’t something that had been addressed yet. He wasn’t sure where you stood on the matter, and he wasn’t going to make that decision for you. So instead, he rolled his eyes and brought his beer to his lips. “Noted,” he mumbled before taking a sip. He took another quick glance in your direction, just in time to see you laugh at something one of the people at your table said, throwing your head back. God, you were so beautiful. He had thought that from the very first moment that he saw you, over five years ago now. 

For all intents and purposes, Bradley should have no idea who you were. You weren’t an aviator, nor one of the engineers he worked with on occasion. You were an Intelligence Specialist, interacting mostly with officer’s above his paygrade, just as you were yourself. It was his first stint at Top Gun, and ironically, he had been trying to get away from Josie herself. A fellow aviator, they were in a weird on-again-off-again cycle, and he had been dodging the blonde for the majority of the evening after training. He had narrowly avoided her cornering him in the recreation room and had taken a wrong turn on the way back to his barracks. He found himself in an unfamiliar stretch of hallway, paused in front of a door as he looked around to try and figure out where he was and what his chances of running into the one he had been trying to escape if he turned and came back the way he started when a throat cleared behind him. 

“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” 

Bradley had just recently been promoted, and was barely used to the title or the new bars on his shoulder, but he whipped around at the voice. That was the first time he had laid eyes on you. He had scrambled for an excuse, catching sight of the name on the door he was standing in front of and claiming he was waiting for a meeting with the Lieutenant Commander assigned to that office. You had simply raised an eyebrow, and when Bradley allowed himself to glance down, he realized both the rank and name on the placard on the door matched those on your uniform. He had blushed so hard he could almost still feel the heat all these years later. 

“Want to try again?” you had asked. And he wasn’t sure if it was his embarrassment or his nerves, or simply the way you looked at him that made him feel like he could be honest, but the next thing he knew, he was telling you exactly why he had wandered down that hallway. To his surprise, you had simply laughed. The amusement was written all over your face, and with a glance over your shoulder to see if anyone else was coming down the hallway, you nodded your head to your open office door. “Go on. You can hide in here.” 

Hiding in your office had turned into over an hour of playful banter and conversation, which had turned into him coming back the next night, and the one after that, too. You were older than he was by almost a decade, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. It was refreshing, talking to someone who matched or exceeded his maturity and intelligence. He was older than the majority of his peers who had all graduated from the academy, the difference small but sometimes stark, and you were a breath of fresh air in so many ways.   

But you outranked him, and more than that, you had a ring on your finger. So nothing had happened, even though he wished it did. He had said goodbye to you after he got his trophy with a smile on his face and the thought of never seeing you again. When he was called back to Top Gun last month, still a Lieutenant but on the verge of Lieutenant Commander, he couldn’t resist purposely going down that incorrect hallway. The rank on the office placard had increased, and the name had changed. But you were still there behind the desk, only lacking jewelry on your left hand and with a different last name printed on your name tag. The wedding picture on your desk was absent. 

You had remembered who he was, and jokingly asked if he was running away from his girlfriend again. He had smirked and asked if he could still hide away with you if there was nothing or no one he was running from. Conversation was just as easy with you then as it had been before, and he found himself coming back. 

He kissed you a week later, right there in your office. And then the next night after you ran into each other at the Hard Deck, you asked him to come home with you. What followed was a whirlwind two weeks, filled with take out and movies from your couch some nights, and laughing and dancing around the kitchen as you cooked together for the others. To top it all off was the most intimate, mind blowing sex he had ever had in his life. You were passionate and mature and not afraid to ask for what you wanted or tell him what to do, and it was addicting. You were addicting. 

You kept inviting him back, and he kept coming. You were the picture of professionalism during the day, your paths never crossing. He knew how it would look for you. You were a commanding officer, and he was there on a mission. And while you didn’t interact with him directly, you did interact with some of his superiors. The optics weren’t great. When you added in your concern of your age, even if it wasn’t one of his, it was best for both of you to keep it all behind locked doors and under covers, which was exactly what you did. You were the first stop he made after he was back on solid ground after the mission that had brought him there to begin with, and he had spent every day with you until he had returned to Virginia. 

His last night in California, tangled together in the sheets of your bed, you had whispered to him that you wished things could be different. But both of you had been content with leaving your time together as a beautiful, delicious memory. Something that could have been, if the stars would have aligned. 

Now he was stationed in Fightertown permanently, and while he didn’t know what exactly that meant for the two of you long term, he knew what he wanted. And that started with getting you alone again. 

The next time he glanced in your direction, you were standing to leave, draping your bag on your shoulder. You waved your goodbyes to your friends and headed in his direction and for a silly moment, his heart started beating faster in anticipation, thinking maybe you were coming to him. But you only met his eyes for a moment and gave him the smallest of smiles when you passed where he was sitting. It took everything in him not to reach out to touch you, or to turn his head and watch you leave. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, trying to concentrate on his friend's words instead of his own thoughts. Hangman and Coyote joined them at the bar right when Bradley’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Nat was going on about apartment hunting being a pain in the ass as he dug it out of his jeans. His heart started beating faster when he saw your name on the screen. 

My door will be unlocked for the next thirty minutes. Come over. 

Bradley downed the rest of his beer, tossing a goodbye over his shoulder as he threw down enough cash to cover his tab. As he climbed into the Bronco and gunned it out of the parking lot, he remembered the last time you were together - the way your body felt against his, the sounds you made when he touched you just right. He couldn't wait to feel you again.

By the time he pulled up in front of the cookie cutter house you called your own, he was already half hard at the memories. You had left the front door unlocked, just as you promised. He slipped inside, silently shutting and locking it behind him. He toed his shoes off and didn’t waste any extra time before making his way upstairs. A soft flickering of light from the room at the end of the hallway beckoned him, and the soft vanilla scent in the air became stronger the closer he got. 

As he crossed the threshold into your bedroom, he saw you illuminated by candlelight, lounging on the mattress against the mountain of pillows you kept. You were wearing nothing but a sinfully matching set of deep red lace. The soft glow of the flames cast shadows across your exposed skin and accentuated the curves of your body. Your hair was still down and wild like it had been at the bar, but you had taken your makeup off, revealing any imperfections that the foundation and blush kept hidden. It endeared him to you even more. 

Against the silk sheets on your bed, you looked like a goddess.

He went to take a step in your direction, but a single shake of your head had him pausing where he was. You smirked at him like a Cheshire cat. 

“Take your clothes off,” you purred, and Bradley couldn’t help but groan. 

“Is that an order, Commander?”

Even as he asked, he was yanking his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and white tshirt off, quickly followed by his jeans that were suddenly feeling too tight. You raised a sharp eyebrow and glanced down before meeting his eyes again. 

“All of it. Lieutenant.” 

Bradley smirked as he did as you asked, commanded, pushing his navy blue briefs to the ground and kicking them away. His thick cock slapped against his stomach and he stood there naked in front of you as you licked your lips, eyes trailing over him, humming in what he hoped was appreciation. The silence was heavy with lust and anticipation for what was to come. Finally, you spread your legs and beckoned him closer with a crook of your finger. 

Bradley didn't need any further invitation. He crossed the distance to the bed in a few quick strides, climbing onto the mattress and crawling until he was hovering over top of you. 

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi there.” A shudder rippled through you as ducked his head to press a kiss to your neck, gently licking at the skin, and you tilted your head to give him better access. “You’re here.” 

He picked his head up to meet your eyes, only for a second, before he leaned down to kiss you. He coaxed your lips apart and teased your tongue with his, and he was right in his earlier assumption that the beer you had been drinking would still taste better coming from you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and threaded your fingers through his hair while your other hand scraped down his back, and he shivered as he pulled his mouth from yours, nipping at your bottom lip as he went. 

“I am,” he affirmed. Your eyes were a shade darker, your lips swollen and parted. “What are you going to do with me?” 

You took the challenge for what it was just like he hoped you would. You tightened your legs around him, and suddenly he found himself lying on his back with you straddling him. He groaned when you shifted in a way that made his hard length slide between your center. You were separated by the thinnest scrap of lace, but he could feel how hot and wet you were. 

You repeated the motion, and Bradley took a moment to admire the way you looked on top of him. Your eyes were hooded with desire, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Your hair was wild in just the way he loved it. You were still wearing that sinful red bra, your chest heaving with every breath you took, and he didn't waste another moment before he trailed his hands up your back, unhooking the lace with ease and tugging it off your body so that you were completely exposed for him. He knew it wasn't something you would have done on your own, your own insecurity about the natural changes in your body the older that you got something you had shared with him during one of the late nights you shared. But fuck, you were so beautiful, he almost couldn't handle it. He told you so now, too, and your whole body trembled in response to his words. 

You leant forward so your breasts were pushed up against his chest, your hard nipples rubbing against his own. He cupped the back of your neck and captured your lips with his. For a moment, he allowed himself just to kiss you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring greedily. But he knew it wasn't enough for either of you. He wanted to be everywhere at once - under your skin, in your mouth, between your legs, inside of you. Like you knew exactly what he was thinking, you trailed your lips across his cheek. You nipped at his ear before you spoke against it, your words sending a shudder through him. "Fuck me, Lieutenant." 

He moved his hands down to your full hips, gripping them and lifting you just high enough so you could grip his length and position it at your entrance with one hand while you pushed your panties to the side with the other. Then you slid down slowly, enveloping him inch by inch. Your breath hitched, and he groaned deeply at the sensation of finally being inside you again. 

"Oh, god, yes," you murmured, your voice rough with want. Your hands trailed down his chest, fingertips dragging along his skin, leaving red marks in your wake. You rose up until only his flushed, swollen head was left inside you. Then you slammed back down, and you both moaned at the sensation of his cock bottoming out inside of you. You repeated the movement, your motions getting quicker with every thrust. You gripped him hard as your body rocked against his and he rubbed against your g-spot. He could feel your walls start to flutter around him. The small noises that escaped your lips drove him crazy. He loved the way you sounded, so desperate for what he was giving you.

He gripped your hips, moving you up and down as he thrust up into you. You met his eyes as you rode him, your gaze heated and devoid of anything save for pure desire. “Fuck, Bradley. You make me feel so good.” 

With a growl, he rolled you onto your back, slamming his mouth against yours. Your hands tangled in his hair as he pistoned his hips and your walls started to clench around him with your orgasm. He kept thrusting until the last twitch of your walls was gone, and only then did he allow himself to come. You moaned into his mouth as he spilled himself deep inside you, his hips stilling. When he pulled away, your lips were red and swollen, and your chest was heaving. You ran your hands over his back as he pressed his face into your neck. 

You were both quiet for a while until he eventually pressed a kiss to your sweat damp skin and gently pulled out of you and rolled to the side. He laid down next to you, and you turned to lie on your side. You propped your head up on your hand and smiled at him.

“Hi,” you whispered. Bradley laughed lightly, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Hi there.” 

You stared at him, and he didn’t shy away from looking right back. The flickering candlelight danced across your face, enhancing the natural beauty you possessed. 

He reached out and brushed some of that wild hair of yours away from your face before gently tracing his fingertips down along the curve of your jaw. You sighed softly and closed your eyes, like you were reveling in his touch. He liked you the most like this, he thought. Bare and soft, not hiding anything away. Just for him. 

"What are you thinking?" Bradley whispered in a low voice, still tracing patterns along your smooth skin with his rough fingertips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly to look at him, a small smile on your lips. 

“That I’m too old for you,” you said, and Bradley couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. The smirk that curled at your lips let him know you were half joking, but he also knew it was something that you thought about. It was an insecurity of yours that didn’t quite make sense to him, because your age was something he couldn’t care less about. Truthfully, it made you that much more attractive to him. 

“I’ve always liked my girls a little bit older,” he quipped back, letting his hand drop to rest on your naked hip. He squeezed gently, loving the feel of your skin beneath his touch. At the same time, you let out a breath of laughter and you rolled your eyes, and then silence settled over the two of you again. He knew there was something else, and he gave you the time to work through whatever was going through that beautiful head of yours. Your eyes never left his; he wondered if you could see into him like he thought you could - in a way that no one else has really ever been able to.  

Slowly, you reached up to cup his cheek in your hand, just like he had been doing moments prior. It was like you were both trying to ground yourselves and memorize each other. Your thumb rubbed over the faded scars he had carried for so long, and then ghosted over his still kiss swollen lips. “Think we can figure this out?” you asked quietly. His eyebrows knit together for just a moment before they relaxed, a long sigh leaving him. He scooted closer to you on the mattress, near enough to feel your breath on his skin and your body heat radiating onto him. He grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of your palm, and then the pulse point at the center of your wrist. 

“I want to,” he admitted quietly. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, but he thought he saw a smile growing. The pulse he was tracing on your wrist quickened beneath his fingertips. “You?” 

You leaned forward, and he met you halfway. The kiss was soft and sweet, and you lingered once you broke away, letting your forehead rest against his. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you flush against him. Your fingers threaded through the curls on the back of his head, and you nodded. 

“I want to,” you whispered. Your breath ghosted over his face when you exhaled. You looked hopeful when your eyes opened to look into his again. “Can that be enough for now?” 

He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling; he had never been the best with words. But he could feel it in his chest that this could be worth it. All the complications that would come with work and rank and everything else could be made so simple by the way you made him feel. 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out, and you pressed yourself closer, nuzzling against him. “That can be enough.”  

---------

Main Masterlist

Notes: Thanks to Mak and Em for all of their help with this one! Appreciate you both so much🖤

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[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Two

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Pairing(s): John x Daughter!Innocent!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Incest, naive!reader, manipulation, graphic descriptions of porn, fluff, virgin!reader, oral (female receiving), daddy kink *I guess*, praise kink, soft n fluffy, angst (?), light thigh riding, smut implied 

W/C: 5.7k+

A/N: I forgot I was supposed to be posting this story! Happy almost Thanksgiving to my American followers!

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

Some time ago...

Things started off innocently. Sam and Dean were at school and you were at the motel doing what you usually did- you read, and read, and read, and read until John walked through the doors. 

You were ecstatic to see him. John had been away for a few weeks too wrapped up in the case to even call home. The look of relief in your father's eyes when he saw you was like no other, he loved you more than anything in the world. 

John took you to lunch, saying it was to make up for all the time he missed with you- not bothering to pull Sam and Dean out of school like he usually did. Things seemed normal all throughout lunch, you chose of course, but things changed drastically when he asked you a certain question during the car ride home. 

"Do you know what sex is?" John asked, looking over to you as he kept a firm grip on the steering wheel. 

Your brows furrowed at the question. It sounded familiar, it really did, but you had no idea what it actually meant. 

"I don't think so," You told him calmly and he let out a low chuckle. 

Judging his reaction, it definitely seemed like something you should know about, so you began to feel a little embarrassed at your lack of knowledge. 

"You mean, your brothers never taught you what it was?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and keeping a small smile on his face. 

You shook your head and he didn't seem particularly pleased or displeased. 

"Normally, by your age, you know what it is. You're already legally an adult." John mentioned.

"So then... does Sammy know about this?" You asked, tilting your head, and wondering why your twin had never said anything about sex.

"I'm sure he does, sweetheart. Caught him with one of Dean's not-so-private skin mags," John chuckled and you scrunched your nose. 

"What's a skin mag?" You asked him and he continued to chuckle at your question. 

"It's pictures of sex. We call it porn," John answered and you frowned, still not knowing what the hell he was talking about. 

"Daddy, I don't know what that is," You reminded him and instead of the instant explanation you wanted, he looked over smiling and shaking his head. 

"God, I wish you could stay little forever," He sighed and you continued to frown, wishing that you knew why this conversation was occurring or why it was so important for you to know about. "When you and Sammy shower together, does he ever touch you?" He asked and his face shifted to concern.

"Yeah, he helps me wash my hair sometimes, but mostly he just uses all of the hot water," You huffed out, crossing your arms, and John shook his head. 

"I meant, does he put his hands on your body?" He reiterated and you shrugged your shoulders, not knowing what he was gaining with these questions. 

"Sometimes he helps me wash my back," You answered and John nodded his head. 

"Do you ever wonder why you have different body parts than him?" He asked and you slumped your face, of course, you wondered why, but you knew that it was just because you were of different sexes. 

"I guess, but Sammy says it's just because I'm a girl and he's a boy," You told him all the information you knew and he nodded his head. 

"So, you know that boys can't get pregnant right?" He asked and you nodded your head. "And you know that boys don't get periods?" He asked again. 

"Yeah, because Sam doesn't get them and neither does Dean. Only I do," You crossed your arms, thinking about how unfair it was that they didn't bleed once a month.

"Okay, well at least you know the basics," John sighed, rubbing at his temples with his fingertips. 

"Is this the part where you tell me what and why we're talking about this? You said you didn't want to talk about when I get my periods," You turned your head to look for his reaction, and he just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

"I don't. It's just- It's just important if we're going to talk about sex," He muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't know what that is," You reiterated, growing more and more impatient by the second. 

"I, uh, I never had this conversation with your brothers. They kinda figured it out on their own," He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't holding on tightly to the steering wheel. 

It wasn't even worth responding to, so you decided to stay silent until he said something else. You could tell that he was feeling awkward, but you weren't- you were just impatiently waiting. 

John looked over and gave you a small smile to which you just raised your eyebrow, then his face straightened and he knew you were waiting for something more. 

"You know what, sweetheart? I think it just be better if I showed you."

•••

He dragged himself in and out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace. His eyes were locked into hers as his forehead began to form sweat beads, panting like he was running a marathon. 

Their lips connected and their tongues ran against each other as he continued to move above her. When he pulled his lips back, she had her mouth parted slightly, close to tears falling out as she cried out profanities. 

But she wasn't actually upset and he wasn't actually hurting her, they were enjoying it- John made sure you knew that.

You stared at Sam's computer in awe, they were so in love with one another- so happy to be together like this. You didn't understand what was so awkward about it, you were confused as to why you had never seen anything like this before- confused as to why you had never done it. 

They both looked so pretty like this, so close together and in complete and utter bliss. She was gorgeous, her breasts were perfectly symmetrical- almost like she was handcrafted. Her lips were stained with red and her body was glistening in the bright lighting that infected the room. 

He had the perfect body too, big strong arms that held onto her like she was a breath of fresh air. His chest was chiseled flawlessly and he reminded you of John and your brothers, they were all just as handsome as he was. 

"Remember: You only do this with people you love," John reminded from behind you, watching you closely as you reluctantly peeled your eyes away. 

"I can do this with Sam?" You asked as your eyes reached his. 

John frowned at your question and you grew impatient as your excitement only grew.

"I love him. How come we don't have sex?" You questioned again and John's face fell into the palm of his hand, his fingertips rubbing harshly against his temples.

"Sweetheart, you don't do that kind of stuff with your brothers," John answered with a sigh, picking his head up to look back at your confused stare. 

"Oh, right. That's her Daddy. I almost forgot." You said and his eyes widened.

"I think you've had enough for today," John cleared his throat and his hand reached over you to stop the video playing in the background, but your hand reached his first. 

"Daddy, don't turn it off. I like it," You told him with a small smile, his wide eyes staring at you as you watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gulped. 

John nodded his head slowly, bringing his hand back to rest at his side, and you turned your head to watch the screen again. 

You stared intently as you began to focus on all of the sex happening right in front of your eyes. She sounded so pretty every time he shoved himself fully inside of her. He was grunting and telling her how much of a slut she was and at first it confused you- it was a bad word and Dean used it negatively when he didn't like someone. So why did she seem so happy to hear the mean name? 

After watching the first few minutes, you discovered she actually liked being called slut. She kept saying yes yes yes, and it only made him go faster, which in return made her cries louder. Her begging was like music to your ears, and for a second you began to imagine yourself in her position. 

What if someone made you feel that good? What if they made you so happy that you were screaming in pleasure? 

Thinking about being her brought out a feeling that you had never felt before. First it gave you the chills and you had goosebumps prickling on your skin. Then you started to feel it in your stomach- almost like period cramps, but in a good way. 

After that, having pants on almost seemed uncomfortable, especially after feeling a new type of wetness in your panties. You watched as he dipped his head down to kiss her again, so passionate and raw, and it made you jealous. 

"Why don't you kiss me like that?" You snapped your head around to look at John. 

His face became flushed and it took a few seconds for him to respond back- which were mostly incoherent mumbles. 

"Don't you love me, Daddy?" You asked and he instantaneously jerked his arm away as you absentmindedly placed a hand on it. 

"I do love you, baby, I do. I just- they're not real. I didn't mean to- uh, they're not related." John managed to muster out, obviously flustered by your comments. 

"She kept calling him Daddy," You frowned, once again thinking about how much you wanted to be in her position. 

"I know, sweetheart. It was just the first video I clicked on. I wanted to get this over with." He sighed and it hurt your heart that he didn't want to do it with you. 

What if he didn't love you enough to do those things? What if Sam or Dean didn't love you enough? 

"Don't be sad, Y/N. It's just a video." John said, picking up on the sudden mood change, and reaching over to cup your cheek. 

Usually, it would make you feel better- it's something that he always did when you were upset- but it was different this time. 

"You don't love me enough for sex," You said, pushing his hand away and looking down. 

John had put you through all of this trouble of telling you about it- even showing it to you, and now he was going to deny the pit you felt in your stomach? 

"Y/N, you didn't even know what it was thirty minutes ago. You're not ready to have sex," John said in a quiet tone and you continued to frown.

Why was he being like this? Why would he show it to you if that's not what he wanted?

"I'm ready. I want to be like her, Daddy. The video made me feel things." You told him honestly, gaining the courage to look back up at him. 

Just as your courage regained, you could tell that his was suddenly gone. He looked as pale as a ghost as he swallowed down whatever liquid was in his throat. 

"What kinds of things, princess?" John asked nervously, almost sounding like he was guilty of something. 

His eyes were locked on yours and you couldn't help but feel like you might be able to break him. A perk of being Daddy's little girl was getting whatever you wanted. 

"I don't know how to explain it," You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to explain the way your core was aching for something. 

"It's called being horny. It's natural," He chuckled nervously, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

"Do you feel it too?" You asked, seeing the way that his pants were tightening around his lower region like a tent. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," He sighed aloud, and your eyes watched as his hand pressed against the crotch of his pants.

"I want to be like her, Daddy," You confessed as your eyes began flickering up and down between his face and his legs, not sure which was a prettier sight.

The sweat and the bulge were both good indicators that he was ready to do things that were in the video, you just knew it. With a sudden whiff of confidence, your hand reached back and landed on his thigh, rubbing circles with your fingers. 

John didn't say anything. He didn't move either. You watched closely as his pants became more restrictive and it was evident that your hand on his thigh was doing something for him. Smiling at the reaction, you looked back up to him and saw an unusual darkness in his eyes. 

It came as a surprise when his hand came to meet yours and you expected him to move it away, but instead, he trailed it higher. Your fingers traced the rough denim material until they landed in between his legs. A small groan left his lips and you grinned at the sound because of how much it resonated with the guy in the video. 

After your hand sat there for a few seconds and you admired how hard he felt underneath you, he stood up without warning. You frowned, wishing that he never moved. 

Sighing aloud, John looked down at you as you looked up at him through your lashes. His hand came up to rest on your cheek as his thumb lightly brushed your bottom lip. 

You held onto his hand, relishing any touch that came to your body, and just as soon as it began, it ended. He pulled his hand back and you watched as he walked towards the opposite side of the room. 

"Come here," John commanded in a low and gruff voice, sitting on the edge of the unmade motel bed. 

You weren't sure whether to be eager or concerned as you stood up from your chair and made your way to him. His arms opened up as an invitation and you straddled his hips, lazily hanging your arms on his shoulders as you began to realize how intimately close the two of you were. 

You looked down, feeling instant relief as you pushed the weight of your core on him. It wasn't much, but even through your jeans and his, you could feel how good he felt pressed against you. His fingers came to the bottom of your chin and motioned your head up so that he could look at you. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" John asked, his eyes begging for you to say yes as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

"Yes, Daddy. I love you," You confirmed, breathlessly waiting for him to do something to relieve the rapidly burning coil in your stomach. 

John's lips connected with yours as soon as he got his answer and you tried your best to copy his movements. It was effortless when your mouth began to move in sync with his. Each time his tongue reached into your mouth you felt like you knew exactly what to do. 

His lips felt like soft pillows every time they ran against yours- he was so perfect, you wanted to make him happy just like the guy was in the video. You chased his mouth as it pulled away, but didn't complain when you felt the wet kisses on your neck. 

John was sure to be careful as he took his time, giving you soft and warm kisses all along the crook of your neck, occasionally stopping to nip at your ear. 

Your fingers raked their way through John's hair and you heard him groan when you shifted your hips in an effort to get more comfortable. His fingers reached down, pulling the fabric on your torso over your head. 

You felt the goosebumps on your skin in reaction to the colder air and you traveled his gaze to your breasts. John brought his hands up, cupping through your bra and marveling at the sight in front of him. You took the initiative to reach around and unclasp your simple cloth covering, letting it slide down your arms and shoulders as your nipples hardened. 

"You are so beautiful, sweetheart," John said breathlessly, his eyes completely focused on the stiff peaks in front of him. 

Your cheeks swelled with his approval and you moaned when he brought his mouth to one of your breasts, tweaking the nipple with his tongue and running small circles around its entirety. Something about the way he was sucking made your core itch for attention, so your hips pressed up as close to him as possible. 

John moaned against your breast, his lips ghosting the skin on your chest and latching around the other nipple, treating it just as well as its predecessor. 

His hands trailed down the sides of your body, reaching the middle, and undoing the button on your jeans before encouraging you to stand up. As you raised, he slowly pulled your jeans down and let his fingertips touch your skin as they moved south. 

When the denim was pooled around your ankles, you held onto his shoulder for support as you kicked them off lightly. 

"Sit back down, Y/N," John told you and you followed directions. 

Straddling his hips once again, feeling much less constricted, he gripped tightly onto your sides. He shifted you slightly so that you rested completely on his thigh, instead of in between, and began to move your body back and forth. 

Small whimpers fled your mouth as you felt the friction rubbing against your aching core, it felt so unfamiliar and foreign to your body- but it felt so good. 

"Feel good, princess?" You heard John chuckle lightly, as his hands continued to move you. 

The wetness from your panties was sure to have made its way out, but you didn't care. Being like this with him like this felt so good. 

"Daddy, I want to make you feel good too," You told him, looking back into his eyes. 

John's hand reached up and brushed a stray hair away from your face, smiling at you. 

"Let Daddy make you feel good first," He answered in return and you nodded your head. 

His lips collided with yours as his grip on your hips tightened, picking you up and laying you flat on your back. He continued to kiss you passionately as he hovered above you, his hand reaching down and dipping into your soaked panties. 

You felt him smile into the kiss as his fingers easily glided through your slick and you moaned every time they would ghost against your clit. 

"You're so wet for me, baby."

"Is that a good thing?" You asked him and he chuckled at the question. 

"A very good thing," He told you and you smiled with the praise. 

Placing a quick peck on your lips, he adjusted himself so that his knees were on the ground. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your soft cotton underwear, pulling them down, and encouraged your thighs to open more. 

John brought his calloused thumb up to work small circles on your bundle of nerves and you moaned at the feeling. Everything that he did made you feel more and more relieved, you could practically feel how much he loved you. When you situated yourself on your elbows so you could see what he was doing, he looked up at you. 

"Can Daddy taste you?" He asked, licking his lips, as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"Please," You squeaked out, feeling hot and bothered and needing as much of him as you could get. 

Watching as his head disappeared in between your legs, you bit your lip as his tongue trailed once up your slit and collected as much wetness in his mouth as possible. You could hear his groaning in approval just before he began to delve into your core again. 

Not bothering to suppress your satisfaction, you moaned as his tongue flicked itself over and over on your clit, bringing out a type of burn that you'd never felt before. 

You could feel your core heat up as he relentlessly attacked you with his tongue, alternating between circling and flicking, perfectly timing when one or the other became too much or dull. He began to suck down lightly, pulling more moans out of your throat, and you felt the uneasiness in your stomach waiting to spill itself. 

Your fingers locked themselves in his short hair, gaining a grunt from him as he began to go faster with his motions. His tongue was hammering your sensitive bud at a furious pace, leaving you a moaning mess as something suddenly snapped inside of you. 

"Daddy," You whined when he didn't stop. 

Your hips buckled and your thighs tried to shut themselves as John's hands wrapped around and held you down. He kept the pace as he helped you get through whatever it was that just happened. Once he was satisfied, he came to the surface, leaving your legs shaking. 

"What was that?" You asked him, panting as you tried to stop your legs from moving on their own. He continued to hover above you.

"That was an orgasm, sweetheart," John told you before placing a tender kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself when his tongue reached into your mouth, moaning at how satisfied and happy he seemed to be. 

•••

Things were never the same after that day. John insisted on not taking your virginity until he was sure it was going to be special. He wanted the whole candle-lit dinner and the rose petals on the bed, but mostly- he wanted it not to occur in a shitty motel. 

John wanted the whole nine yards just for you and as much as you wanted that too, you didn't really care about the fine details. You wanted him as soon as you could get him and you didn't care what the circumstances were, even if that meant losing your virginity in a crappy motel where the beds creaked.

Plans were whisked away from the two of you, a hunt would come up or Sam and Dean would stick around for too long. It almost seemed impossible to find the 'right' time. 

In between, John helped you learn different things that surrounded sex. You could only assume that those acts were just as satisfying as the real thing, but it only made you crave him more. 

You were so eager to please John and he seemed to feel the same way about you, making you feel more special than Sam or Dean ever felt. Everything just made so much sense, everything seemed so perfect. 

It was hard to contain yourself around your brothers, but John wanted to keep your relationship a secret. You didn't understand why. Why wouldn't he want to show Sam and Dean how happy he made you? Was he embarrassed? Were you not good enough to boast about?

Those questions didn't matter in the middle of the night when he would steal you away to his truck. Every bliss-filled night brought a euphoric feeling that lingered for the following days... but then he would leave. Again. 

It became a routine. Things would seem so hopeful that maybe in a few days, he would be able to steal you away for the night- make it special, but those plans seemed almost hopeless as the weeks went on. 

The hunts became more frequent, especially after Sam came home from school, and John wanted both of his boys as strong as possible- so he chose to hunt by himself most of the time. 

John also became a bit hunt-hungry, losing days of sleep and trying his best to find the monster that killed your mother. It was consuming him and John only really ever seemed to be at peace when he was with you- when you helped suck out every ounce of worry from his soul. 

But a strange guilt was burning slowly in your core. Sam was the one person you trusted in your entire life. The one person you could trust with your secrets, the one person you could trust to be on time, the one person you could trust to be there for you. 

When Sam would come home from school and tell you about his day, or come back from a small day hunt with Dean, you would have nothing to say to him. 

You weren't reading like usual, you were too busy with John or learning new things from porn. You weren't supposed to tell Sam and it ate at you every day. 

It hurt to keep something so special and important away from him. You've told him everything since the moment you could talk- the only saving grace was that he was keeping things from you too. 

First, it started off with him not telling you about sex or what it was. Then, it turned into getting girlfriends that he wouldn't tell anybody about. He was hiding things from you for the first time in your life and you didn't understand why. 

Was he upset with you? Did John say anything to him? Or was he just growing apart from you? 

Showers seemed to be less fun for the past three months. Sam barely talked to you. He barely cracked a joke, he didn't even turn the water cold on purpose to make you squeal. It was just a shower now. You got in, you washed your hair, he washed his hair, you washed your body, he washed his body, and then you both got out. 

Sam wasn't the same Sam that you knew and loved, but you tried your best not to notice.

It was another day. Another boring and quiet shower. Sam hogged all of the water while you focused on trying your best to be normal. 

To be honest, you were upset. All of these months, waiting for him to say something. You were waiting for Sam to explain why he was acting so strangely, but he didn't. 

Sam closed himself off from everybody and every shower that remained silent, other than the casual 'pass the shampoo' that seared into your heart. Maybe Sam didn't love you as much as he used to. Maybe he found someone else. 

You couldn't hold it in anymore- you couldn't live without knowing what was going on in Sam's head. 

"Are you okay?" You asked Sam quietly. He just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

Sam muttered 'I'm fine' and nodded his head, turning back to finish washing his hair. You frowned, knowing that he was probably not fine, and continued to pry. 

"Sammy, please. Just talk to me." You frowned, watching the soapy water fall down his back.

"Talk to you about what?" Sam asked in return, bitterness in his voice that shocked you to your core. 

His tone definitely showed you that he was upset about something, and it hurt to know that he was bottling it in himself. You trembled when he snapped, shivers running down your spine that brought you to cross your arms, and you watched the way he glared at you when he turned around. 

It hurt especially because it was the same glare he often gave your father. It was the same hatred in his eyes and you didn't know what you did to deserve it. 

"Y/N, I'm not angry. I promise. I'm sorry for scaring you." Sam must have picked up on your hurt as his face slumped into concern, placing his hand on your arm. 

You immediately pulled away as Sam continued to look at you sympathetically. 

"I just wished you talked to me, that's all," You replied quietly.

"Yeah, well, I wished you talked to me too," Sam muttered in a voice so close to a whisper you almost couldn't hear. You decided to look back up at him. 

"That's what I'm trying to do, Sam," You told him just as softly as before, looking into his soft eyes. 

Sam gave you a small smile out of courtesy, and you could tell it was hurting him just as much as it was hurting you. 

"I just feel like you are avoiding me. Like you don't want to tell me what's going on in your life anymore." You admitted.

"What about you?" Sam scoffed and you raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, you don't talk to me about your life. Why should I?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

"I don't go to school anymore and I barely leave the motel. There's not much to say," You sighed, frowning at how his aggressive switch was flipping on and off with each comment. 

Sam didn't get upset with you often, but most of the time he was irrational and tended to say things that he didn't mean. 

"Just- just tell me about a book you've read recently," Sam struggled to get out and you shrugged your shoulders. 

"Um, okay. I read The Little Prince recently. The guy in the story crashed in the Sahara desert and-" You were quick to explain. 

"You told me about that book months ago, Y/N," Sam cut you off with hints of a low growl. You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to reach his eyes as they ran away from yours. 

You hadn't read it in a while, but, it was the most recent book you had read- that part was true. The truth about what had been preoccupying your past few months was a secret, a secret that John didn't want anybody to know about. 

For a second, you thought about telling the truth- maybe Sam would be happy to hear about it. Happy that John loved you so much. Happy that you weren't sitting at home miserable every day. 

Ultimately, you decided that you didn't want to upset your father. What if he stopped whatever it was that was going on between the two of you? That, in addition to Sam and Dean, was the only thing that ever made you truly happy around here, and you didn't want to take it for granted. 

"I, uh, I reread it. It's a great book," You lied, this time trying to look away without being too conspicuous. 

It hurt every part of you to lie to Sam like this, especially because you were lying about one of the most important things in your life.

You never lied to Sam, ever. When he didn't say anything back, it ate you completely. The guilt you felt was pounding in the back of your throat. It only took you a few moments of silence to realize that you couldn't take it anymore.

"Sammy, I'm- I'm lying to you." You told him, feeling a rush of relief flood your body as you looked down to the ground.

"I know, Y/N," Sam told you quietly and you nodded your head, the guilt vacuuming back into your body. 

This is why you shouldn't have lied to him in the first place. He knew you so well, too well to let anything slip by. 

"Do you want to tell me the truth?" He asked softly, bringing his fingertips to your chin so that you could look back up at him. 

You nodded your head, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as he looked at you with so much care- something you missed dearly from him. 

"I- I can't." You told him, jerking your head to look anywhere but at him. 

You loved Sam more than any person in the world, but this was something that you needed to keep from him.

"Because Dad said you can't?" Sam asked you and your eyes shot up to look at him, widened at full capacity. 

He knew. That's why he was so upset. That's why he didn't talk to you, why he closed himself off from everybody. But, why? Why did he seem so upset about it? If Sam knew, why hadn't he brought it up sooner?

"It's okay, Y/N, really. It's okay, you can tell me the truth." Sam told you, pulling you close as you frowned into his chest and began to let your mind run. 

What if John found out you told him? Would he not want anything to do with you anymore? Even though the shower was still running against the both of you, the only wetness you could feel were your tears. 

"He's going to hate me, Sammy," You told him, sniffling as you pulled back to look at him. His arms were lazily hung around your torso as he stared down at you with soft eyes. 

"Y/N, did he hurt you?" Sam asked softly, gripping your waist tightly and gently forcing you to keep focused on him. 

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows as you noticed that Sam seemed to look sad. "No- no, he didn't hurt me. Why would he hurt me?" You questioned again and his grip loosened around you, looking just as confused as you did. "Are you upset?"

Sam took a few seconds to answer, head shaking a confused expression formed on his face. 

"I, uh, no- I'm not upset. I just thought-" He trailed, seeming to be at a loss for words. "I just thought he was hurting you."

"Daddy would never hurt me," You gave him a small grin, shaking your head at the silly comment. "Sammy, he's made me very happy." You purred, feeling his body tense as your fingers glided up and down his sides. 

It was a small chance that you took- if he wasn't upset... then maybe he was happy. Maybe he was just jealous this entire time.

•••

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