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tacitoru · 4 months ago

Text

pleaser - gojo satoru ; geto suguru

pairing: gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

summary: A wedding for an old friend reunites you with a figure from your past. Except now he's famous, successful, and rich - richer, at least. You're not having any of it, but Gojo is determined to show you how much he's grown since you've last seen him.

rating: explicit

tw: basketball!au, enemies to lovers, slight non-con

wc: 5.1k

ch: 1/5

read on ao3

At long last, my attempt at unhinged Satoru and the basketball au that's been rotting in my brain since that damn twitter post. Enjoy!

Now

The wedding is a quiet, modest affair, but that doesn’t stop the paparazzi from finding you.

Or not you, but rather the several high-profile guests rumored to be attending your friend’s big day. You peak out at the gaggle of people and cameras gathered at the front of the venue from the makeshift bride’s dressing room. Anxiety blossoms in your chest. If this is the turnout for just the rehearsal dinner, you can only imagine what chaos will ensue for the main event. Any other day, you might have been among them - standing among a crowd of sweaty, haranguing men, juggling a Canon with a lens the length of your forearm in the hope that the next picture you snap lands you your next paycheck. Your next meal.

“Don’t worry,” Utahime sidles up behind you just as your stomach growls. She places a gentle hand on your shoulder with a knowing smile, guiding your attention away from the window. “Our vows are short. Dinner is right around the corner.”

Having made the mistake of arriving at the rehearsal dinner on an empty stomach, you’ve kept your hands and stomach occupied with the free-flowing wine and sake offered by the venue up to this point. Placing your glass on the windowsill you pat your stomach with one hand and take her manicured hand in the other, shooting her a grin and shifting the unease from your expression with practiced grace. “As long as you still promise I can take home leftovers.”

You take a step back to take in your former colleague, adorned in a beautiful pink kimono. Even in the fading afternoon light, Utahime is radiant, practically glowing from the inside out at the prospect of marrying her best friend. You give her hand a gentle squeeze and tell her as much.

The clamor outside the venue gets a little louder. The crowd grows restless. Glancing out the window again, you slip out of your friend’s grasp to pocket your hands and ball them into fists in the fabric. You think you spot a few white basketball jerseys among the crowd. “Well, that’s just fucking rude.”

“No, no. Don’t look over there, look at me.” Utahime admonishes, pinching your chin between two fingers to twist your head back in her direction with a grave expression, redirecting you once again with a little less gentleness.

“But that’s bad luck, don’t they know - the fucking audacity -,”

The bride-to-be shakes your head with her grasp on your chin before releasing you with a scowl.

“Sports fans will be sports fans. Plus, they’re technically not even attending the wedding, so it doesn’t even count, right?”

Maybe it’s the wine getting to you, but the fact that one person can cause such a hassle before they’ve even arrived grates on your nerves more easily than usual. You make a rebuttal but it dies on your lips at the sight of Utahime’s pleading expression. It’s the night before her wedding day - you should be doing everything in your power not to transfer the bubbling pit of unease manifesting in your chest in light of what awaits you beyond the dressing room doors.

“I know it’ll be difficult having him here, but he’s important to Shoko, so he’s important to me,” she tells you not unkindly, and not for the first time.

“I’ll be civil.” You promise and mean it. You had practiced your carefully crafted looks of disinterest in the mirror in the nights leading up to tonight. Any word spoken in his direction over the course of this weekend would be laden with well-rehearsed apathy.

Utahime sighs, adjusting the neckline of your dress before moving to return to where the gaggle of her aunts and cousins sit and gossip among themselves. Waiting for the rehearsal to start. “I’m less worried about what you’ll do when you see him, than what Gojo will do when he sees you.”

This day isn’t yours, but the days building up to it have been an excruciating crawl. The full picture hadn’t yet registered with you when you first received the wedding invitation. Initially, you had been overjoyed and honored to see the epic conclusion of what had been a long time coming - the marriage of Ms. Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori.

You remember scrambling for your phone and screaming, crying. Blubbering your well wishes to an exasperated Utahime and sleep-disheveled Shoko over a video call. The ceremony would take place in less than six months and there was so much to do. What dress would you wear? How would you afford to book a flight to Kyoto so soon? How much tourism could you squeeze in between your arrival and the ceremony?

The guest list hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind.

Utahime and Shoko had proven themselves to be far from the flashy wedding type. The venue of choice was a tiny art gallery in Kyoto, with just enough space for a selective audience to be present to witness the nuptials. You had anticipated meeting your former colleague’s childhood friends and relatives. You had assumed that, aside from Utahime’s family in the States and an old classmate or two from college, you would be the furthest traveling guests. Reuniting with your ex-college situationship is the last thing you would have expected given your circumstances and his.

And yet when the bride-to-be texts you a photo of Shoko and the man in question looking buddy-buddy at a dive bar captioned with a simple heads up a week before your departure, it’s already too late to refund your flight. Of course, world-famous top-ranking NBA player Satoru Gojo would be best friends - childhood pals, even - with renowned sports medicine physician Shoko Ireri.

Of course.

“So is he, like, a bum in real life or something?” A family friend of Utahime’s whispers to you from where you’re seated at the back of the ceremony space, watching as the wedding coordinator flits about the venue, rearranging furniture and decorations about the altar. She seems young - also a foreigner, maybe early twenties, and looks about as out of place as you feel. You distantly wonder which relative she knows.

“Hm?”

“You know…”

“Who?”

“That basketball player. You’re that journalist, right? I like your dress.”

You furl your lips and do your best to not appear peeved. So much for being a fly on the wall. It appears that feigning ignorance won’t get you out of this one, but you should have known better - this is Japan’s all-star athlete she’s talking about, after all.

“Thanks. Yeah, yup. That’s me.”

“Yeah, he’s an asshole?”

“What-, no. No, that’s not what I said.” You blunder for the right words, torn between overexplaining yourself and telling her to get the fuck away from you. Taking a sip from your new glass, you glance around the rim and look for one of the brides or a signal that the rehearsal is starting to save you to no avail. At this point, even after all of these years, you’re not used to the questions. The speculations. The envious glances and disdainful side-eyes that follow. “He’s fine, great,” you offer her instead with a noncommittal shrug. “I wouldn’t really know.”

The guest looks surprised to hear this, but then you think back to how she referred to you as that journalist , and figure she assumes that’s still your field of work. Or that maybe you’re still in touch. It’s not a completely unfair assumption - Gojo was the much-needed catalyst to your career. Or at least, writing about him was. Whether he was just as charitable towards you in other, more illicit ways was always up for debate in the fan circles online whenever your article was brought into question.

Silence falls between you both as you watch the wedding coordinator struggle to carry two chairs across the room by herself. Neither of you stands to offer help. The guest doesn’t let the pause in conversation last for very long. You can practically hear the words buzzing behind her lips before she can even say them. Or maybe your ears are just ringing. “I read your article, I think.”

“Mm. Yeah?”

“Sure. It’s a shame, what happened to those two boys.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And they were so young too.”

“Yes, we all were.”

Your response comes off a little sharper than you intend it to be. The woman jolts a little in her seat, as though it’s just occurred to her that you had to have been a witness to the falling out she’s referring to for you to have published the detailed account that you did. To write the piece that cemented the legacy of your careers together forever, or at least until the athlete’s inevitable downfall. The invisible string that tied you to Gojo Satoru no matter how far you ran or how often you tried to cut it.

The ringing in your ears gets a little bit louder. Your lips bruise under the pressure of your teeth before you take another sip.

Despite it being five years after its publishing, there is no escape from the meteoric impact of your last submission to your alma mater's student newspaper and the events that transpired before it made print. Even if you could somehow stop the memories from resurfacing, the public will do its due diligence to remember for you. To remind you wholeheartedly. Sometimes you wished back then you had learned a lot sooner to say no to some tasks when offered. But back then you had been so eager to please.

The guest clears her throat and shifts in her seat, effectively chastened. You wonder what the chances are that Shoko is hiding a pack of smokes somewhere in her dressing room, and if anyone would notice if you snuck off for a moment. The wine is slowly creeping up on you like a warm cloak. A drunk cigarette to take the edge off is beginning to sound nice.

“Have you seen him play since he joined the league?” The woman asks in a poor attempt to change the subject. You eye her wearily, facing her directly this time to discern if she’s a fan. She prattles on without waiting for you to answer, nervous in the face of your sudden full attention. “He’s a freak of nature, I swear, and that smile when he-,”

“No, m’fraid not.” You cut her off, finally making to stand. The idea of seeking out Shoko’s cigarettes before the rehearsal starts becomes more and more appealing the longer you sit here. Something in the way the woman scrunches her face at your dismissal tells you you’ll be hearing about this interaction from Utahime later.

“Really? He’s literally everywhere these days.” She remarks, but you hear the underlying snark loud and clear: I find that hard to believe.

The double doors to the ceremony space are flung open behind the harried wedding coordinator as she suddenly rushes from the room, whispering fervently into the phone pressed to her cheek. Beyond them, the cacophony of paparazzi and fast clicks of camera shutters spill into the space. That’s my cue to leave.

You offer the family friend one last tight-lipped smile before turning to escape in the direction opposite of all the noise.

“Honestly, I’m just not a big sports fan.”

–

You’re purposefully sitting on opposite sides of the room, but that doesn’t stop Gojo Satoru from sweeping the place head to toe in the middle of the rehearsal.

You try to maintain your tipsy focus on literally anything else. The ceremony altar, the guest next to you breathing a little too hard, the price tag of the dress digging into your back that you’re determined to keep on until you can return it next week. Anything other than the flagrant way the grown man in a designer button-up and shades twists and turns in his seat to scan the room.

The pseudo-ceremony plays out before you, as you watch from the Iori family’s side of the room as ceremony officials walk the soon-to-be newlyweds through the process. The couple surprised you with their decision to go the more traditional route, but as you watch the rehearsal, you can appreciate how much more intimate this is compared to the alternative. The lack of a bridal party or audience participation is also a plus.

Wondering how much more different this affair would have been if your former colleague had needed a bridal party and you had been a bridesmaid, you allow your mind to wander. Would Gojo have been a groomsman? Or would he also be considered… a bridesmaid…?

Your wine-addled mind conjures up the image of Gojo and his Herculean figure squeezed into a modest gown, and you can’t help but huff through your nose. Somehow, regrettably, you know he would manage to pull it off. Curiosity getting the better of you, you finally manage to glance in his direction, hoping his attention has returned to your mutual friends as they nervously fumble through the ceremony steps.

Immediately, your eyes lock and you whip around to face forward again, incensed. With little care for discretion or the several other scrutinous pairs of eyes that follow his every move, Gojo’s head had been fully turned in your direction. Even the dark tint of his Ray-Bans - indoors, of course - couldn’t hide the full weight of his gaze. His megawatt smile turned up to its full effect once he’s got your attention. The athlete wiggles his fingers in a girlish wave.

You fume in your seat for a minute. So much for appearing uncaring. Whatever, you think, it’s not like you wouldn’t have had to face him eventually. In a setting this intimate, it was inevitable that you would run into him at some point. You will just have to do your due diligence and keep your distance.

Despite this, you still manage to cast one final look his way, having mustered up enough confidence to pull together a sneer. If you can’t give off an air of disinterest, then your next best play is disdain. The contempt is not hard to reach for, but your concern grows for the other guests playing audience to two performances, unwillingly. You wonder if that family friend of the Irori’s from earlier, seated a few rows behind you, has her phone out.

Gojo, whose unwavering stare in your direction at this point could be classified as downright rude for the setting, appears unbothered. More likely amused. His smile is unshakeable. Before you can redirect your attention, he mouths three words that make you go rigid in your seat.

There you are.

The ringing in your ears grows a little louder.

–

When you finally do find a moment of reprieve to make use of the cigarettes you “borrowed” from Shoko, the damage is already done.

As you pace around the enclosed garden beside the art gallery, away from the warmth of the festivities, panic begins to set in. The cool spring night air is sobering and nips at your cheeks.

All it took was one look to rattle the carefully conducted wall around your emotions and suddenly you’re second-guessing your ability to do this. Your strength to be here.

It feels like you have spent so much of the past few years of your life fighting for your independence from Satoru Gojo. There was a time, even before the article was published when the man had had a hand in every aspect of your life. And you had welcomed it. Directionless, spineless, and eager to make something of yourself. You had become a wayward sailor in the sea of post-graduate opportunities and Satoru Gojo had positioned himself as your North star.

And there was no doubt about the way your life had flourished when you let him. Not just the parties and the lavish gifts and the recognition.

The power that came with being associated with Satoru Gojo, even as a young college student and recent graduate, was unimaginable. But what you had been hooked on the most was his recognition, his steadfast attention to you, once earned. His belief in your craft. That kind of rare affection, the feeling of being seen - of belonging - had been his greatest gift to you. And that affection had buried itself so deep into your heart that once it had blossomed, it was nearly impossible to manage, and even more difficult to weed out.

You think of dark hair and amber eyes, and the warning that was afforded to you too little too late.

The cigarette, slightly bent from your pocket, trembles in your fingers while you dig through the other pocket for a lighter. Silently thanking whoever it was that made the rare decision to stitch pockets onto a dress.

You seclude yourself to a bench furthest from the garden entrance, take a deep, shaky breath, and flick the lighter to life. More than five years later, he can still get a rise out of you and it hurts .

“You know you can’t return the dress if it smells like smoke.”

Speak of the devil. Gojo's voice, dripping with amusement as he approaches, cuts through the relative peace. He startles you, the unlit cigarette fumbling to the ground from your feeble hold. You don't turn around, the anger simmering in your belly threatening to boil over.

"Still haven't learned to handle your nerves, I see."

"This isn't about nerves," you finally manage, voice tight.

"Oh, come now," he chuckles, leaning against the railing a few feet away. "Don't tell me seeing me doesn't stir a pot or two."

You clench your fists, the cigarette forgotten between them. "It shouldn't."

"No?" He steps closer, resting a hand on the furthest corner of the bench, yet very nearly leaning over you. Stopping a safe enough distance away, but still close enough to impose himself upon you. You don’t have to look to know that he sports that same teasing, knowing smile you’ve seen plastered on magazines and across news headlines for years. Your inability to see his eyes always makes it appear more menacing than not.

"I’m glad it’s not a problem then. I wouldn’t want things to become awkward between us.”

Clearing your throat and pocketing the lighter, you fight the urge to kick your aggravator in the shins. Utahime’s words come back to you. I’m less worried about what you’ll do when you see him, than what Gojo will do when he sees you. She should be more worried about me, you think as you finally turn to face him, wearily sizing him up from your seated position. It’s unfair that he’s still gorgeous after all this time. Rumors of enhancement drugs and body modifications chase him constantly, but you know better. Muscles built from years of hard work and relentless discipline flex and strain under the fabric of his dress shirt, smooth skin peeking from the collar of the top two buttons undone. You avert your eyes.

“You clearly still are unable to recognize when somebody wants to be alone,” you chide. “But other than that, no hard feelings, Gojo-san.”

“Gojo- san ?” The young man gasps dramatically, clutching his chest above his heart as though he’s been shot. “Such formalities! I thought we were friends.”

He says your name and it takes everything in you not to shoot off of the bench and break for the door. Torn between your fight or flight instincts as he makes himself comfortable on the bench beside you, folding one long leg over the other.

“Must’ve been excited to see me again, since you’re learning the language ‘n all. Who’s your teacher?”

You scoff. “Duolingo.”

“Ah. The wretched bird app. The final boss.”

“Need a tutor?” He tests his limits, broad enough to lean over and bump your shoulder with his own without moving too much when you don’t dignify him with a response. You don’t budge either, careful to keep your expression blank, your posture ramrod straight.

You can do this. You can be civil.

“Keeping me at arm’s length I see.”

You wonder how difficult it would be to knock him out and hide him somewhere in the garden underbrush, this man twice your size in stature, if only to gain some semblance of peace for the rest of the dinner. Your stomach rumbles at the thought of food. You still haven’t eaten.

Taking that as your cue to stand, you brush your clammy palms across the front of your dress and fix Gojo with a steely look. “I would appreciate it if you could keep things professional between us tonight. And tomorrow. As colleagues.”

“Colleagues?” He can hardly hide the laughter in his voice. The condescension in his tone is clear nonetheless. “Sure, sweetie. Is that what you told them?”

Them as in your mutual friends. As the one who greenlit the finished copy of your infamous undergraduate article, Utahime knows only slightly more than the average weekly paper reader about the months that led up to its printing. Caught glimpses of how your closing chapter in college shaped and broke you, then launched your career into an unimaginable trajectory all within the short period of a spring semester. You had only been able to come partially clean about the nature of your relationship with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto in the years that followed, long after you had cut ties with the industry.

The tabloid media and its avid followers had enough to say about you. You didn’t need to hear it from your actual colleagues either.

“I’ve told them enough,” you bristle, spotting your discarded cigarette in your periphery and getting agitated all over again. “And you will tell them nothing-,”

“Relax, relax.” He cajoles. Gojo's laughter hangs heavy in the air, stinging like a mosquito bite. You hold his gaze steady, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crack.

"Fine," he finally says, a playful glint still lingering in his amber eyes. "Truce it is. For now."

Gojo studies you for a moment, raking you in from head to toe as though trying to commit you to memory. You, arms crossed, hip cocked to one side, avoiding his gaze and flushed with irritation as you try to make a quick and dry escape. He wishes he could somehow reach inside your chest and pull on the loose thread he knows will unravel you.

Instead, he rises with a flourish, the movement sending a tremor through the ground beneath your bench. Having stolen your intention to leave first for the sake of having the last word, you watch him saunter back towards the building, as quietly as he came for someone so lanky, hands shoved casually into his pockets. Before he crosses the threshold, he says your name again, and you hate the way it still sounds perfect coming from his lips.

“It’s good to see you again.”

As he disappears through the doorway, a sliver of relief washes over you, leaving a cold dread in its wake. You make sure he’s gone for good before you pick up the cigarette again and snatch the price tag off of your dress.

The name cards look back mockingly at you from the dining table, your name typed in a dainty serif script and printed on cardstock too expensive to burst into flames from your glare alone. On the table is a matching one, delicately placed across from the one person you’ve tried your best to avoid all night. Seated at the head of the table with the love of her life, Utahime pointedly avoids your pleading looks, while you do the same to the giant man squeezed between two of Shoko’s aunts in front of you, pouting just as poorly.

The guests who aren’t a part of his usual entourage (his assistant and PR manager stand stiffly off to the side of the room, as though trying to blend into the wallpaper) are torn between overtly fawning over the new couple and not-so-covertly fawning over the basketball player. Gojo appears all too comfortable appeasing Utahime’s young cousins between heartfelt toasts given by closer friends and family. They gush at the slightest flex of this man’s biceps and find a little too much amusement in his jokes, much to the bride’s chagrin. You resist the urge to gag while you eat.

Yet as he works the crowd with his little sideshow, he still finds ways to coax your attention back to him whenever it wanders off too long for his liking. Laughing a little too loud. Accidentally kicking your shin under the table. Accidentally scooting forward too abruptly, shoving the surface so that it presses into your ribs, causing you to sputter into your drink. All done with that teasing, unapologetic smile playing on his lips.

Drinking on an empty stomach hasn’t served you well tonight, yet under the weight of Gojo’s constant attention, you grasp your fork in one hand and another wine glass in the other like a lifeline.

Dinner goes by smoothly, for the most part.

You down the rest of your wine with a grimace, the sweetness doing little to quell the rising tide of nausea threatening to erupt. The world feels pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, but the sharp awareness of Gojo's presence across the table cuts through the haze like a spotlight.

His amusement has morphed into something closer to concern, a flicker in his cerulean eyes that you can't quite decipher from behind the dimness of his shades. You clench the wine glass a little tighter, the condensation slick against your palm.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washes over you, accompanied by a horrifying pressure in your bladder. The three glasses of wine you've downed on an empty stomach are starting to make their unwelcome presence known.

Panic claws at your throat. There's no way you can make it through the endless stream of toasts and speeches with this bladder situation. You shoot a desperate glance around the table, hoping for a discreet escape route.

Utahime, bless her oblivious soul, is busy clinking champagne flutes with the Shoko’s parents. Shoko, on the other hand, seems to have noticed your distress. She raises an eyebrow in your direction, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. You mouth a silent plea for help, hoping it doesn't translate to "hold my hair" territory.

Shoko, ever the pragmatist, simply nods and subtly gestures towards the back of the room. Relief floods your system, momentarily pushing the pressure in your bladder to the background. You manage a weak smile of thanks in Shoko's direction before excusing yourself from the table.

"Just need some fresh air," you mumble to Gojo, his presence looming large across the expanse of the table. He raises an eyebrow but thankfully doesn't press the issue. An uncle swoops in before he can address you, eager to grill him on the plays made in his most recent game, on the odds of his team winning the next.

Clutching your stomach, you weave through the maze of tables, the polite murmurs of the guests a distant hum in your ears. The borrowed dress whispers its disapproval with every movement you make. You finally reach the back of the room, a secluded hallway leading to what you hope are the restrooms.

As you stumble towards your salvation, the world tilts precariously on its axis. You grab onto the nearest wall for support, willing the dizziness to subside.

Suddenly, a strong hand shoots out and steadies your arm. You look up to find Gojo standing there. Worry looks foreign etched onto his usually carefree face.

"Are you alright?" His voice is surprisingly gentle, devoid of its usual teasing lilt.

You open your mouth to retort, but all that comes out is a weak groan. The pressure is unbearable now, threatening to become a full-blown disaster.

"Bathroom?" Gojo asks, already guiding you down the hallway with surprising ease.

You nod mutely, following him with the grace of a newborn giraffe.

"Second door on the left," he mutters, his voice a low murmur close to your ear. He pushes open the door and ushers you inside before you can even react.

You stumble into the cool, brightly lit restroom, practically falling onto the nearest stall. But when you turn to close and lock the door, Gojo’s hand is already there, stopping you mid-way.

“Gojo-san,” you startle as he pushes his way into the cramped stall. You back away in a clumsy attempt to make room for yourself, only to nearly fall into the toilet basin when the back of your knees hit the lid. “Gojo, wait -,”

"You know," he says, amusement creeping back into his tone, as he looms over you. You hear rather than see the lock click in place behind him. "There were simpler ways to get me alone."

At this point, your legs are squeezed together with little hope of alleviating the rising pressure in your lower stomach. You want to strangle him. But given your current state, a withering glare is the best you can muster.

"Get out," you croak, collapsing onto the closed toilet seat. He tuts like a disappointed parent as you groan and fend off his growing proximity with weak swats of your arms.

He chuckles softly. "Take your time. We can wait here when you come out."

"We?" you echo, surprised. Mortified. The ringing in your ears returns, in full force.

"Yeah," comes his breezy reply. "Remember, professional colleagues and all that? Besides, wouldn't want you to collapse on your way back to the table, now would we?"

“Gojo-,”

He sucks his teeth. “C’mon, babe, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. You saying I lost pissing privileges?”

“Gojo, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” a slick look of satisfaction crosses his face when he notices you finally drop the formal title, one more barrier of familiarity extinguished. “Now piss.”

All at once, the frustration and anxiety that had been brewing all night wells up inside you at the height of your duress. You launch at him with what little movement you can afford, but Gojo is faster. He’s quick to pin you against the stall, one arm braced across your shoulders, the other splayed against your lower abdomen. Threatening to press right on the growing balloon of pressure that is your bladder. You immediately wrench back in fear. From his vantage point, Gojo admires the way the wine flush that once populated your cheeks now spreads down past your neckline.

“Do I have your attention now?”

next>>

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #jjk angst #basketball!au #pleaser #geto x reader #gojo x reader #stsg x reader #gojo satoru x you

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neiptune · 3 months ago

Text

best case scenario

cw: 1.6k wc, female reader, friends with benefits, angst, hurt no comfort, you will not find any joy here my friends your girl is going through it and is trying to heal lmfao

Suna is staring at you.

It happens frequently as of late, the feeling of his eyes on you always teasing your spine with a telltale shudder while you pretend to occupy yourself with something entirely different. The thing is, you need things to ground you when you’re with Suna. After you’ve been with him or right before you’re about to be. Distractions to keep you sane, to prevent your heart from freeing itself from your chest cavity.

These quiet moments are not rare anymore, his sorcerous gaze a distraction too dangerous unless he speaks, voice like an enchantment freeing you from the quiescent bubble you intentionally lock yourself in. Today, the bubble is his rubik’s cube. You try very hard to remember at least part of the instructions you once looked up on the internet: think of each face as a layer, start by making a cross, don’t forget to pay attention to the color of the side center pieces, arrange the corner pieces-

“Twist the bottom layer so that one of the white corners is directly under the spot where it’s supposed to go on the top layer”, Suna’s voice is calm yet you sense the amusement it’s coated in. The snark. Ugh.

“Shut up” you grumble, stubbornly doing anything but following his instructions. The white corner piece is where it belongs but turned wrong and you have no idea how to fix that.

“Sure. I always like it better when you’re in charge anyway” he murmurs, too close. Like a cat, his chin suddenly rests on your shoulder and infuriatingly soft hair tickles your cheek as he presses a kiss behind your ear.

“I’m trying to focus here” your hold grows rigid, fingers moving layers of the cube randomly.

“And I’m just watching” he coos, voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

“You’re sabotaging. First by staring, now with this”.

“Should’ve been less pretty if you didn’t want me to stare”.

You shut your eyes for a second, let a deep breath fill your lungs with oxygen and your heart with little sparks of hope, crimson and golden and oh so fickle.

He doesn’t need to say these things. You’ve been sleeping together for enough time for him to know you’ll gladly welcome him back into your bed, day and night, no additional convincing needed. Why does he bother?

Suna is like one of those beautifully crafted russian tea dolls, only backwards. He starts as the smallest figure, blunt and perpetually unbothered, seemingly uninterested in anyone or anything. Then, if he feels safe enough to allow layers to be carefully exposed, the figure starts getting bigger: each crevice comes to light and contains way more than what one would expect from someone so stoic.

He’s a dog person, doesn’t like his morning coffee to be too hot, rewatches his favorite movies when he needs a good cry, sucks with plants, can’t get on a plane without taking an anxiolytic first. More than anything, Suna’s affection is hard to earn but runs deep. He loves his family, adores his friends. He’s in love with someone who isn’t you.

Suna is a one night stand enjoyer and doesn’t disdain dates or conversations that stretch out for days on dating apps. Worst case scenario, he’s entertained. Good case scenario, he also gets a good fuck out of it. Best case scenario, he finds relief and a friend. You suppose you’re his best case scenario.

It’s not like it was entirely unanticipated. He’s good looking, charming in his own stoic way, polite. First, it was attraction. Then, it was nothing but the cruel irony of a fate that came as doom. You just kept texting each other, taste and humor matching curiously, memes exchanged in the middle of the night and laughter muffled in pillows until he just had to ask for your number and smoothly text if he could come over one more time. Two times. A million times too many. For months, until Suna started sleeping in at your apartment and you started to fix breakfast for the both of you, until you walked his dog together, until you accidentally met one of his ex schoolmates and he introduced you calmly, by your name and as a friend. Until sleeping together wasn’t the only motive to see each other anymore, nights spent on his couch watching movies and afternoons devoted to driving around the city, exploring new bakeries and vinyl record stores.

Suna’s been honest since the beginning. Not when you started hooking up, rather when you became friends. I’m in love with someone I’m unable to forget. That’s alright, you replied. You were friends who were attracted to each other, simple as that: nothing was supposed to change.

And then, because life is a never ending sequence of sadistic developments, you ended up falling for him. Not only that: you started harboring hope, which is even worse than desire or delusion. Hope doesn’t keep you grounded. It makes you hang on every word Suna says, each unnecessary compliment, the way he sometimes takes you by the hand while strolling around shops, that one time he got so drunk you had to collect him from a bar. Then he fell asleep in your bed, arms around your body keeping you pressed against him all night. He was drunk enough to giggle (a rare occurrence), to ask you a question your mind still conjures word by word on nights you feel like you’re about to go insane, brain delirious with fabricated scenarios that could never be real. They couldn’t, right?

If we end up falling in love at last, will you stay and never leave?

For the longest time you refused to allow your heart to believe there could be some hidden meaning behind all those criptic words and uncharacteristic gestures. But then treacherous hope infiltrated your thoughts and the throb in your chest, arrangement now seemingly exclusive, dating apps no longer on his phone, ex schoolmates crowding his apartment and chatting with you like old friends. It must’ve meant something. It must mean something. And you’re sure you’ll end up going crazy if you don’t take a goddamn shot.

“Wanna do something tomorrow? There’s a new cafe I wanted to take you to”.

Suna nods, cheek pressed to your bare shoulder.

“Sure, sounds good”.

“It’s a date, then?”.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else planned. We can spend the day exploring”.

You pause your ministrations for a moment, then attentively place the cube on his nightstand once more.

“Can it be a real date?”.

You feel it before he can speak. It’s in the way he stiffens against your body, embedded all over his features as he straightens up to stare back. It’s in his parted lips, in the regret tucked into the corners of his mouth.

Suna just says your name and it’s mortifying, humiliating.

“It’s okay” you take a shaky breath, nod once “forget about it. I’m so stupid”.

“No” he’s quick to interrupt “let’s talk about it”.

“Why? I already got my answer”.

“I didn’t say anything yet”.

You finally look at him, heart sinking to your stomach. It’s not like you’ve known Suna for years but you’ve known him long enough to recognize that stare, the watchfulness in his tone. You’ve already heard him turn down other women before.

“Let me say something first” you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat “I like you, Rin. I like you way more than I should and that's on me but I was starting to believe that, I don’t know, you liked me back”.

He takes your hands in his and holds them tight, conflict laced into his upset features.

“I do like you. I like you a lot”.

You smile a sad smile.

“Just not enough to date me?”.

“I would fucking love to date you. I’d be the luckiest man on earth. If I could decide to fall in love with you, if that choice belonged to me, I wouldn’t waste a single other second”.

“But you don’t see that ever happening so why waste your time, right?”.

Suna’s hold on your hands grows stronger, brows furrowed in anguish.

“I wouldn’t ever let you date someone who’s in love with someone else. You deserve so much better than that”.

As you pull your hands free from his grasp, you dazedly wonder how many times a heart can break and if it’s truly shattered if the person causing that agony doesn’t even seem to hear a sound so clear. The pain is unbearable, it makes you petty and it makes you cruel. You hope she’ll never want him. You beg that a gut-wrenching void swallows him whole. You pray that he’ll have to spend the rest of his life torturing himself, thinking about what could’ve been over and over again.

She’s not here, I am. She doesn’t want you, I do. She didn’t even remember your birthday, I memorized it a year go. Fuck you. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

Suna tries to stop you from leaving, runs nervous hands through his disheveled hair. He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend, you’re important to him, he’s sorry. He doesn’t know what to do, wishes something could make this right.

“I would’ve made you happy” you aggressively wipe the tears running down your cheeks, humiliation still burning in the pit of your stomach.

“I would’ve wanted it to be you” he doesn’t cry, he never cries. You’re sure he’s going to miss you for a week or two, then he’ll easily fall back into his usual routine, download his apps once more, find other women to fill his time with. His friends are going to stop asking about you, your name won’t be mentioned over beer and board games anymore. His absence is always going to weigh more in your life, just as his presence.

“Good luck, Suna” his last name sounds weird, so weird the sound makes him flinch.

It’ll pass.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #haikyuu x reader

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charlesf1leclerc · 1 year ago

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KUWTL

Summary- a night in the life of the leclercs

Warnings- cuteness, badly translated French, talks of bathing kids, poorly edited ( like not re read so if you see some really bad mistake please tell me )

Notes - Inds- Indy’s nickname, Lily- Sicilys nickname

It was currently 5:30 on a Saturday evening and it was time to start the Leclerc family house good night routine. You and Charles had a system a system that works as sometimes it could get a bit challenging with two little girls 6 and 2 especially they were both in polar opposite stages of their life’s but vogue just as crazy in their own way.

Both girls were sat on the couch watching cartoons to entertain them. Charles was on the dinning room table looking through that notebook of his were he writes all his racing notes, you weren’t 100% sure but you loved how committed he was to his work. You were in the kitchen getting dinner ready for your family tonight spaghetti bolognese and of course you were the one cooking as well all knew Charles could not cook for the life of him. As you were chopping up the carrots for the sauce Charles got up from the table

and can over and kissed you on the lips.

“ I’m gonna get the girls in the bath “ He spoke rubbing your back.

“Thank you, good luck” I laughed as he walked over to the couch we’re the girls were sat

“ ok my angles time for a bubble bath”

“No papa show not done” Sicily spoke in her cute toddler voice

“ I know but do you know how fun it’s gonna be in the bath, with bubbles and we could even get some of those bath time markers out” he kneeled down beside the couch rubbing her chubby little cheeks

“ sounds good to me” Sicily smiled jumping down from the couch

“ Ind’s you too come on Cherie “

“ 5 more minutessss”

“ how about I pause it and we come back and watch it again later”

“ if I must” she spoke getting off the couch as well following her sister as they both toddled us the stairs. This girls were getting far to sassy for your liking.

The girls were now currently splashing in the bath with the bubbles flying around. The bath titles were covered in doodles from the bath markers you and Charles had brought in order to keep them both occupied during bath time. Charles was shampooing both of their hair and rinsing it off with a little cup filled with water.

“ look papa flower” Sicily pointed to her drawing on the tiles that looked like a blob.

“Wow that’s very beautiful” he spoke leaning on the bathtub and stroking her freshly washed hair.

“That’s not a flower, this is” Indy spoke to her as she draw a flower on the tiled wall.

“ their both beautiful flowers girls , all flowers are different” Charles didn’t want either of the girls to get upset.

“ ok time to get out loves dinner is basically ready I can smell it up here”

Charles had gotten both girls out of the bath and wrapped up in their little towels.

“ Indy why don’t you go get into your pjs and wait in your room I’ll be in once I’ve gotten Lily dressed”

Charles had picked out the cute little pks and gotten the youngest daughter dressed and her hair brushed out knot free ready for bed.

“ ok Lily go down stairs and keep mummy company while I check on your sister” he encouraged as she ran down the stairs excited to see her mum and to eat of course that girl loved food.

Walking into the oldest daughters room seeing her all dressed in her pj’s Charles grabbed the brush and began brushing the girls long brown locks.

“ ouch papa”

“Sorry chérie since when did your hair get this long “ he apologised

“ it just grew I don’t know” she shrugged

“ Dinners ready everyone “ y/n called from downstairs

“ ok let’s go eat that delicious food Cherie”

Indy walked down the stairs and Charles closely followed behind her. By now the time was 6:30.

Indy walked over and pulled a chair out to sit in at the dinning room table. While Charles swept Sicily up and placed her into her high chair she has basically grown out of.

You laid the dinner out on the placemats infront of everyone.

“This looks delicious baby” Charles spoke taking his place at the table digging into dinner.

To say dinner was well enjoyed was an understatement the girls ate every last bite and so did you and Charles although a lot of Sicilys food ended up on her bib that you would rather she not wear as you thought she was to old but you didn’t want her to keep getting her clothes dirty.

“Papa can we finish the cartoon like you promised now?” Indy shook Charles arm in a pleading manner

“ ok girls but only 20mins and then time to get ready for bed ok”

“ yay thank you” Indy spoke running away

“ up papa me wanna watch” Sicily put her arms above her head.

Charles lifted the 2 year old out of her high chair and she copied her sisters movements running into the living room behind her.

Charles packed up the dishes on the table taking them into the kitchen. While you put the placemats away and wiped down the table and high chair.

Charles had started on washing the dishes and you moved to stand next to him drying them and putting them away. There did need to be constant conversation between you two that’s just how you worked you loved each others presence.

By the time 7:30 had rolled around The two girls were both back in the bathroom this time brushing their teeth. Charles had placed the barbie toothpaste onto their toothbrush and Indy was brushing her teeth while Sicily was trying to but Charles had to help every now and then.

You were in the kids bedrooms folding back the covers and trying their night lights on getting their bedrooms ready for bed. Laying out their teddies the way they liked or you knew they wouldn’t sleep.

It was now when you and Charles split up you alternated each night what girl you would get into bed. Tonight it was Charles job to but Sicily to bed and your job to put Indy to bed.

Charles had gotten Sicily into bed and tucked her in. They had chosen out a book to read for the night and Charles had sat on the bed next to her reading to her in a soft voice.

“ The end”

“ no more papa more”

“ tomorrow night sweetie time for bed now, but first let’s say our good nights”

“ good-“ Lily went to start saying her good nights

“ how about we say it in French tonight Cherie” Charles encouraged

“ ok, bonne nuit étoiles, bonne nuit lune, bonne nuit maison, bonne nuit maman, bonne nuit papa, bonne nuit Indy ( goodnight stars, goodnight moon , goodnight house , goodnight mum , goodnight dad , goodnight Indy ) Sicily said her good nights

“ good job, ok night sweetie I’ll see you in the morning “ Charles stood up putting the book back on the bookshelf kissing her head and leaving the room shutting the door.

At the same time you were coming out of Indy’s room shutting the door as well.

“ both asleep huh “ he asked

“ yep “ you replied

“How is this how we are spending our Saturday night?” Charles asked

“Yeah but you know you love it “ you laughed

Charles wrapped his arm around your waist as you both walked down stairs to watch Tv and snuggle on the couch before going to bed yourself.

———————————————————————

Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed feel free to leave any comments. Or leave any requests in my request box. Xx

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles lecrelc #lando norris x reader #f1 #x reader #arthur leclerc #fanfic #lando norris #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagines #pierre gasly x reader #ollie bearman fluff #fluff #blurb #one shot

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blackdollette · 7 months ago

Text

starting to write for mgg as well now!

"you wanna make the switch?" | spencer reid

in my feelings. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: from a geeky genius to a drunk-eyed, sweaty mess...

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x sub!spencer

word count: 606

contents: blowjob, teasing, implied overstimulation, praise, drabble, not proofread!

it was almost funny how quickly you could flip spencer’s switch.

you knew all the right buttons to press. the way your tongue slid up his rock-hard shaft, swirling itself around his tip before making its way down again. the bedroom echoed with the sharp hisses and deep groans from spencer, a contrast to all his wisecracking bullshit. your boyfriend bit his lip, suppressing all the moans and whimpers that threatened to break free. the torture had been going on for hours, the hypnotizing motions of your mouth putting him into a deep trance.

he tossed his head back as he exahled a shaky breath, his hand glued to the back of your head in a failed attempt to slow down your pace. you took his cock into you throat, inhaling through your nose to create suction as his chestnut-brown doe eyes gazed right back down at you. “c’mon, angel… i-ive been good, would it hurt to just let me…” he was cut off by a deep groan emerging from his throat as you took him all the way in once again, your uvula fluttering against his pulsating tip.

you would’ve smirked if your lips weren’t occupied. you pulled your mouth off of him, spitting on his tip and giving him a few lazy strokes. his body quaked from the stimulation. “i-i… b-baby, i dunno i-if i…” a smile tugged at your lips as you watched how he struggled to enunciate his words. you put on a fake pout, tilting you head to the side as you squeezed his cock even tighter, causing him to bite his lip to suppress all the lewd noises that threatened to break free. “what was that, spence? i didn’t catch that.” you batted your eyelashes all innocent-like, watching him crumble apart filling you with a sick thrill.

“i-i can’t take anymore..!” he was gripping the bedsheets until his shaky hands went white. seeing him struggle made burning heat pool in your core as you slowly touched yourself through your panties. “aw, why not, baby? you’ve been doing so good for me all night…” you sat up from in between his legs, crawling onto his lap and bringing your lips to his ear, your warm breath hitting him right in the canal. “i know you can cum a few more times for me, right?” the base of your hand slapped against his balls, your thumb ghosting the tip each time your hand came back up.

beads of sweat glistened on spencer’s forehead, cheeks flushed with a soft shade of pink. you could tell it was taking every cell in his body to keep himself together. your spoke once more, your voice laced with a touch more authority. “you can take it, baby. i know you can.” he swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek as he nodded, wanting nothing else but to please you in this moment.

you spread your legs onto either side of him, tracing his tip along your clothed slit as he looked up at you, lip quivering as if they were begging for a taste of your soft lips. you pouted again as his hips began to buck into your fist. “you’re such a pretty boy, y��know that..?” his teary eyes lit up ever so slightly at the praise in your voice.

his tip bubbled with thick precum as his chest rose and fell with each breath. he held back the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes as he took a deep, shaky breath, resting his chin in your cleavage. you nodded in approval, a smile lighting up your face as you kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

“that’s my boy…”

author's note: i am not ditching the rory community! just wanted to see how writing for an ew character would go :)) please leave comments and let me know what yall think! (lmk if this was shitty)

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writerastray · 11 days ago

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Should we?

General Masterlist - Read this before interacting

Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Relationships: Seo Changbin/f!Reader

-> Word count: 4.3k

-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Halloween Romance, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Friends to Lovers.)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: On Halloween night, the city buzzed with costumed chaos, but Changbin’s focus was elsewhere—specifically, on a coffee shop offering free drinks for couples. The thought of cozying up in a warm, pumpkin-scented space, sipping hot drinks, was too tempting to resist. The only catch? He needed a date. And that’s where you came in.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You lounged in your dorm, scrolling aimlessly through your phone when Changbin appeared in the doorway, his black leather jacket fitting perfectly. The last rays of sunset caught his brown eyes, making them brighter than usual.

Earlier, he had barged in, complaining about how bored he was now that most of his childhood friends were back in his hometown while he was stuck here, finishing up midterm exams. You wondered how long it would be before he found something to occupy himself so you could get back to your peace and finish the book resting on your lap, waiting to be read.

“Hey, did you hear? There’s a coffee shop offering free drinks to couples on Halloween,” he said, trying to sound casual, though you could hear the challenge in his voice.

You glanced up, eyebrows furrowed. “On Halloween?”

“Yep, the one Minho always talks about,” he replied, pushing himself off the door frame with a grin. “Wanna go?”

A smile tugged at your lips as excitement bubbled up inside you. “So, you’re asking me to be your fake date for free coffee? How romantic.”

He shrugged playfully. “Come on, who can resist free caffeinated drinks and the chance to call themselves my girlfriend for a night?”

“Why don’t you take your next one-night stand there?” you teased.

“Because I want to go with you,” he said, licking his lips in that effortlessly charming way before adding, “why? Afraid you'll catch feelings, Y/N?”

You stared at him. “You wish,” you replied, tossing your book on the couch. “Let’s go.”

You weren’t sure if it was the promise of the night ahead or the way Changbin smiled at you, but you slipped into your jacket, shaking your head as you tried to hide your grin. “What I wouldn’t do for a pumpkin latte.”

The humid and chilly air nipped at your face as you walked the already crowded streets, where there were decorations at every store. Some people were in costumes with excited smiles, while others looked just tired from the workday.

You glanced sideways at Changbin, noting how the streetlights cast shadows across his face. He wore his glasses, looking heartbreakingly handsome in them.

“What?” he asked, catching you staring.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly. “I was just thinking... wasn’t one of your friends working at that coffee shop?”

Changbin smirked. “Hyunjin. I bet it was his idea—the discount for couples on fucking Halloween.”

You stopped, glaring at him. “Changbin.”

“What?” he asked, looking clueless.

“He’s not going to believe us! When was the last time you even dated anyone seriously?”

His eyes sparked with a hint of hurt. “You’re different,” he replied softly.

“How am I different?” you asked, already mourning the possibility of free lattes slipping away.

“We slept together once, and we’ve stayed friends since then. Who’s to say it couldn’t happen?”

Your heart pounded as his words hung in the air. Memories of a shared summer night came flooding back, and you felt warmth creeping up your neck.

The first time you met Changbin was on the last day of summer at a party in the countryside house of one of Chris’s childhood friends, Hyunjin.

You were in the kitchen, drinking with Chris and a few of his friends when he said, “Ask Changbin out already. Your crush on him is painfully obvious, and he can’t stop looking at you.”

“I don’t even know him. It’s not a crush; he’s just... really hot.”

You’d been eyeing Changbin since you arrived. He was one of the most attractive guys you’d ever met, and the way he naturally drew attention captivated you. He was just your type.

Once you finally gave in to Chris’s nudges and approached Changbin, everything fell into place. You greeted him, and the way he whispered his name in your ear left you breathless. The conversation was just an excuse for you to say, “Want to go outside for some air?”

It didn’t take long before you were making out with him, his kisses somehow feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat, leaving you craving more. He fucked you against Hyunjin’s wine cellar door like his life depended on it.

You thought that would be the first and last time you’d see him. You never kept track of the names of guys you hooked up with; however, Changbin’s name, face, voice, and taste didn’t leave your mind.

It was a pleasant surprise when you found out, on your first day of classes, that he would be your calculus tutor for the semester.

Even better, you knew you were terrible at calculus, which is how you became friends

He recognized you immediately, but he never mentioned that summer night, and you pretended nothing had happened. You told yourself it was better that way.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

He moved closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, his face just inches from yours. “I mean we have good chemistry. We just need to pretend. He’ll believe it.”

Whatever was blossoming in your chest vanished just as quickly.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered.

He grinned, his voice low and teasing. “Think of pumpkin spice lattes. I know you love them.”

Your resolve wavered as you met his gaze. “Fine. But if he doesn’t buy it, you’re paying for the drinks.”

He chuckled, pulling you close and saying, “That’s my girl.” His tone was playful, but the way he said it made your heart skip a beat.

The coffee shop was warm, decorated with autumn leaves, grinning jack-o'-lanterns, and twinkling fairy lights casting a cozy, golden glow over everything. The scent of freshly brewed coffee, cinnamon, and pumpkin spice filled the air as you stepped inside.

Hyunjin stood behind the counter, surrounded by a small group of giggling girls. When the doorbell chimed, he looked up, his eyes landing on the two of you.

“Well, well, what brings you two here?” Hyunjin asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Free pumpkin spice lattes and two cinnamon rolls,” you replied confidently, looping your arm through Changbin’s.

“And a slice of cheesecake,” Changbin added with a smirk, fully leaning into the act.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "Drinks are only free for couples."

You smiled, leaning into Changbin and resting your head on his shoulder. “We are a couple,” you said in a sweet tone.

Changbin wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “See?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, but his grin didn’t fade. "You two? A couple? Please. We all know neither of you do relationships.”

Changbin sighed, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, there’s a first time for everything."

"Uh-huh." Hyunjin folded his arms. "If you were really dating, you’d have told me ages ago. I’m not buying it."

When your stomach grumbled, you got tired of the banter.

Changbin didn’t have a chance to respond before you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss. For a second, he froze, but then he melted into it, his hand finding your waist as he pulled you close. His lips moved against yours, warm and soft, his tongue teasing yours just enough to send a shiver down your spine. When you finally pulled back, you glared at Hyunjin.

“Are you done, or should we keep going?” you challenged.

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat. “Drinks on the house.”

You chuckled, glancing up at Changbin’s wide-eyed expression. “Told you he’d buy it,” you whispered as you moved to find a seat.

But as you settled into a booth, you couldn’t help but scream internally, What the hell did I just do?

You snuck glances at Changbin, who was still processing what had happened, his eyes fixed on you. It made you wonder what he was thinking.

The coffee shop filled up quickly. You and Changbin settled into a corner booth, the pumpkin spice latte warming your hands, the cinnamon rolls long gone, and a slice of cheesecake placed between you. You took turns, sharing bites.

You couldn’t stop stealing glances at his lips. The ones I’d just kissed.

“So, girlfriend,” Changbin said with a teasing smirk, “was the kiss worth it?”

Your breath almost hitched. Had he noticed you staring?

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be nonchalant, but couldn’t hide your smile, especially when you remembered the sweet taste of it. “Worth it. We should do this more often.”

“Kissing?”

“Of course not,” you shot back, clicking your tongue. “Getting free drinks, I mean.”

“Are you admitting we have good chemistry?” he asked, leaning closer, his voice dropping an octave.

“I never said we didn’t,” you replied, leaning in. “Besides, I think we’re really good at pretending.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “Oh, and are we still pretending?”

You stuffed a piece of cheesecake into your mouth to avoid his gaze, looking at anything but him. The golden writing on the walls that read “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul…”, a little boy with a whipped-cream mustache laughing as his dad took a photo, two older women sharing a kiss in the opposite corner, and a girl dressed as a witch slipping her number into Hyunjin’s apron pocket. Hyunjin caught your eye, raising an eyebrow.

You leaned closer to Changbin and whispered, “Hyunjin’s watching.” Changbin glanced around and then leaned in closer.

His arm settled around your seat, his hand gently brushing your shoulder. Your eyes met, and you were so close, you could smell his cologne. His fingers traced up to your ear, grazing it softly, sending goosebumps down your arms.

That slight, turned-down smile appeared on his lips—the one you loved seeing—and your stomach flipped.

“Want to kiss me again, Y/N?”

“I think that’s enough PDA for one day.”

He leaned in with a teasing pout and whispered close to your ear, 'No fun,' and you swore you melted right there. Before things could escalate further, you turned to see Hyunjin, who was busy taking an order from a group of students.

“I would like my girlfriend’s eyes on me.”

You looked back, amused. “What are you doing?”

“Just playing along.”

But it didn’t feel like that at all. Not with the way he was looking at you, his voice a low rasp that made it harder to breathe. The air between you crackled with tension, and your heart raced. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, with the scent of coffee and cinnamon mixing in the air. His gaze was so intense, and you wondered if he could sense the shift between you—how every moment felt charged with something neither of you dared to name, yet.

“So, is this where we say we’re in love, or what?” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood, but your voice wavered slightly.

He only chuckled, pulling back and finishing the last bite of cheesecake; you noticed his ears had turned red.

When you finally headed outside, the sun had set, and the streets were bustling. The time had flown by; you wished you’d lingered over your food, stretching out the evening. You’d gone out with Changbin countless times for tutoring sessions at coffee shops, libraries, and parks, but none had ever felt quite like this. Maybe it was the kiss. You couldn’t shake the feel of his lips from your mind. It had been so long since you last kissed him; you hadn’t realized how much you craved it until today.

“So… do you want to head back?” he asked softly, curious.

You paused, wanting to keep this, whatever it was, going just a bit longer. A smile tugged at your lips. “I heard they’re doing an outdoor movie screening in the park.”

Changbin grinned, extending his arm in a mock-gentlemanly gesture. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you looped your arm through his.

The outdoor screening of a classic Halloween movie was right in the heart of the park. The place was softly lit with lanterns, scattered decorations, and couples wrapped in blankets dotted the lawn. You found a spot in the crowd, and Changbin spread out a blanket that the staff were giving as the movie started.

You didn’t even know which movie was playing; you weren’t a fan of horror movies, but it was always fun to watch with someone else, especially if they were easily scared, like Changbin.

As the movie went on, you felt the tension grow between you two. You couldn’t stop glancing at him, wanting to hear his voice and his laugh.

When you shivered—more from nerves than the cold—he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“You know you don’t need to pretend here, right?” You said.

He smirked, coming close enough that his nose nearly touched the part of your neck that always made you shiver. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “I know.”

You turned to look at him.

Everything felt different. You’d never felt like this before. You could barely look him in the eyes without turning into a complete mess; your heart raced, heat spread through your entire body, and it felt as if the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

Would it be so wrong to lean in? To give in to the pull?

There was an understanding between the two of you without words. You were just friends. Neither of you was ready for a relationship. Changbin had told you before that he had a lot on his mind with his internship and university. He was always conscious of boundaries and never crossed that line with you. He was always conscious of boundaries and never crossed that line with you. Meanwhile, you had to study harder than anyone else just to get an average score on exams and assignments. There was simply no time for relationships, even if you wanted one.

So why was he acting differently now? Too flirty, too touchy, too caring. And why were you falling for it?

You tried to mask the heat in your gaze with a smirk.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Of a classic horror movie? Please.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Changbin. You seem like the type to jump at—”

A loud jump-scare blared from the screen, and you yelped, instinctively grabbing his arm. He laughed, pulling you even closer, your faces now just inches apart. For a moment, time stood still, and the world around you faded away. His eyes darkened, and you wondered if he might close the gap between you. Your breath caught in your throat, your lips parting as you waited. But then he pulled back slightly, the tension heavy between you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you whispered, though your heart pounded against your chest. “I’m fine.”

His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “You sure?”

No, actually. I’d feel better if I could feel your lips on mine again.

You wanted to shake him and demand to know why he was holding back if he felt the same way. Instead, you swallowed the urge and forced a smile.

“Positive.”

But the way he held your gaze, the slight tightening of his fingers on your shoulder—it was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

As the movie ended, you both walked back toward your apartment. The night had grown colder, but you didn’t mind—it made you even more aware of how close Changbin was. You found yourself dragging your feet, not quite ready for the night to end. You only realized you’d stopped walking when he glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s wrong?”

You hesitated. What could you possibly say?

Today had left you confused. For months, he’d acted like nothing would ever happen between you two, but tonight... Did you read it all wrong? You weren’t sure how to tell him you didn’t want the night to end—that maybe you wanted more than just tonight. But what would he think if you said that? What if it made things awkward and ended your friendship? You swallowed the thought.

You couldn’t say that.

“Nothing.”

But his expression shifted, a knowing look crossing his face as if he could read the unsaid words hanging between you. You recognized that look in his eyes. He’d looked at you like that more than once—especially the night he fucked you. Did he want more as well? And if he wanted it, should you spend the night with him, just one more time? Be one more of each other's one-night stands?

“Right,” he said teasingly, though there was a warmth in his tone that felt different. “You sure? Because it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Was it a mistake to try again? Tonight was perfect. You didn’t want to ruin it by acting on something you might regret tomorrow. Part of you knew that if you indulged in whatever was happening between you two, it would only be for tonight. By morning, he might let you go, and you weren’t sure you were ready to face those feelings again.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The moment stretched, and he stepped closer; you could feel his breath brushing against your skin, intoxicating and warm.

“I just—” But before you could finish, he reached out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment too long.

“You just…?”

“Don’t want to go home yet," you said.

“Oh.” He paused, studying you for a moment. His gaze lingered on your lips before meeting your eyes. “Wanna crash at my place instead?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Should you go? See where things led? What was the worst that could happen? Catching unrequited feelings.

Were you willing to risk it?

“If you don’t want to, it’s cool—”

“I do,” you interrupted, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Let’s go.”

The warmth of Changbin's place enveloped you instantly as you stepped inside, filling the air with the familiar scent of laundry. It was enough for two and cozy, thanks to his roommate.

“Seungmin’s not here,” he said, his voice low.

You wandered over to the window showing the city nightscape. You’d always loved the view from Changbin’s apartment. You remembered the night before finals, the two of you cramming by that very window, papers scattered everywhere on the floor as you studied together.

You smiled, arching a brow as you turned back to him. “So that’s why you invited me, huh? Don’t want to be lonely tonight?”

He snorted, walking over to wrap his arms around you. Changbin wasn’t shy about showing affection, but this time, it felt different, and you felt your whole body tingle under his embrace. “Maybe I just wanted my girlfriend around a little longer.”

“Are you sure? What if things change?”

His hands guided you to face him, one hand resting on your waist. “It’s a risk, for better or worse.”

“And you’re willing to take it?” you asked softly.

He lifted your chin, meeting your gaze. “Only if you are.”

A rush of adrenaline surged through you. You didn’t stand a chance; there was no way you could say no to him. It was a pull that always kept you gravitating toward him until you collided. Fear of the unknown, of getting attached to something that might not last—all of it faded when you locked eyes with Changbin. The need for him was stronger than any fear.

Fuck it.

You leaned up and captured his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, molding his lips to yours with a quiet urgency that made your stomach drop as if you were riding a rollercoaster. It was all you could think about. His strong arms locked around your body, and you melted in his embrace.

It felt like everything you’d wanted and more—exhilarating, and undeniably worth it.

You let a moan escape at the feeling of his tongue on your lips before he kissed you again. He groaned, his palm tightening at the back of your neck, while his other hand slid down your side.

“Why haven't we done this before?” he asked, his hand reaching the outer part of your thigh, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your jeans, making you wish you had worn a dress.

You couldn't even answer with the way his lips found your throat. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, fingers sneaking under your shirt. His hands were cold, and you shivered as they moved higher until they slipped beneath your bra. He gave your breast a gentle squeeze, and your hands clenched against his shoulders when he pinched your nipples.

Your fingers locked in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him harder. He pressed you against the wall, bruising your lips, and your hands flew to his neck. You gasped when his hips pressed harder against you, and you felt the thick length of his cock gliding along your skin.

You pushed away from him enough to say, “Are you sure? Because once I start, I don’t think I can stop.”

“There’s no reason to stop, sweetheart,” he replied in a low voice that made your heart race and your underwear wet.

Without breaking eye contact, your hand slipped down from his neck to his waist, pausing at the waistband of his underwear. You could feel his hardness trapped behind the fabric, and he exhaled sharply as your fingers closed around him. Pre-cum already glistened on the head of his cock, and when you dragged your thumb over it, he let out a soft groan.

Changbin kissed you slowly and gently at first, then deepened the kiss into a frantic, desperate swirl of tongues.

You pulled down his pants, freeing his cock, and quickened your strokes, feeling him swell beneath your grip as his hips moved in rhythm with your hands. He kissed you messily, hungrily, along your jawline, biting at your neck with every movement of your hand, hardening further under your touch, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Couch, Y/n.” He scooted back and grabbed your hand.

He led you to the couch, gently pushing you onto it, his eyes devouring the sight of your body sprawled out before him as he knelt between your legs. His lips found yours, Changbin’s hand moving along your inner thighs, higher and higher.

He helped you take off your shirt, and you silently thanked yourself for wearing decent new underwear and a matching bra. He unclasped your jeans and yanked them down along with your underwear.

Spreading your legs, he muttered, “Fuck, sweetheart.” He gently parted your pussy, drawing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, letting you soak by the second.

“Changbin, please,” you begged, your body burning beneath his touch, his gaze glazed with desire.

“I missed you being this needy for me,” he said, making your core clench at his words.

Your back arched as Changbin lowered his mouth, kissing the skin of your inner thigh and then moving upward, inch by inch, drawing a sharp breath once his lips found your pussy.. He brushed it lightly before taunting you with languid kisses that left you trembling. You curled your fingers into his hair, your hips shifting at each stroke.

You bit back a cry when his tongue slid across your slit. He licked and teased your clit; his kisses lingering whenever he drew a moan from you, but never for too long. You tightened your grip in his hair as the pressure coiled inside you, begging for release. It came when his eyes met yours, drunk with lust, sending you over the edge. You arched into him as pleasure crashed into you, waves leaving you breathless. But you didn’t want it to end—you needed more of him..

“Binnie, please, fuck me,” you whispered, your hands finding his cheeks as you looked at him. “I need you.”

His eyes widened before he gave that smirk that made your heart race.

He crashed his lips to yours, wrapping a fist around his cock and angling it down to drag the head over your clit, wetting himself with your arousal.

“Hands above your head,” he instructed, shifting forward and pressing you against the couch.

You gasped as he moved his hips, rubbing the full length of his cock against your clit. Your desperation grew with each slow thrust of his length against you.

As if sensing your pleading, he hooked one arm under your thigh, spreading you wider as he angled himself. Your hips sank lower as the head of his cock nudged your entrance. Then he seized your hips and thrust inside you.

You could only whimper in response, your pussy making a squelching sound around his length. He thrust into you shamelessly, noisily, moans bursting from your lips with every movement of his hips, until you couldn’t hold back anymore and came.

Butterflies stormed in your belly as Changbin’s hips bucked compulsively, and he came, gasping and groaning.

You felt your body grow heavy as Changbin withdrew and kissed you softly. He disappeared into the bathroom, then returned wearing shorts, holding a clean shirt for you and a towel to help you clean up.

After everything, you lay with your head on his lap, exhaustion and euphoria filling you. His hand gently caressed your arm, and you looked up at him with a soft smile.

“We should really keep doing this couple discount thing,” you teased.

He smirked, a glint in his eyes. “Like me being your boyfriend?”

You met his gaze, and the words rushed out, “What if I like it?”

His fingers brushed your cheek as he whispered, “Then maybe we should stop pretending.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Should we?”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

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bisexual-horror-fan · 10 months ago

Note

Hear me out!

Sam’s killer side is more dormant and her bloodlust is out of control and she’s feeling the overwhelming need to kill someone. By this point, she’d stopped trying to fight it. Reader is a friend/girlfriend who knows enough about Sam and her urges to offer her a substitute; letting her fuck you stupid. As kinky as you can think of with sprinkles of blood play, knife play, heavy degradation and praise. Sam 100% has a strap, she just does and loooooves to make her choke on it. You didn’t really believe Sam would hurt anyone and you’d never seen her kill anybody first hand before but by the time she was finished with you, you knew that she was far more than capable and the thought of that was nothing short of a turn on.

Oh, Anon. You were the first person to submit for the Ghostface Sam fic prompts, and you nailed it in one. So here we are! My first Sam Carpenter fic! And the first fic of the new year! Let's get into it, I hope this is dirty enough for you!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.8K. Ghostface! Sam Carpenter X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Blood. Mentions Of Murder. Begging. Oral Sex. Cunnilingus. Face Sitting. Cum Eating. Strap On Sex. Spanking. Knife Play. Blood Play. Knife Used As A Makeshift Sex Toy. Multiple Orgasms. Squirting. Praise. Degradation. Dirty Talk. Rough Sex. Sam Is Mean. You Love It. Edging. Mild Orgasm Denial. Asking For Permission.

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"Make It Hurt."

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The itch is becoming completely unbearable. How is she meant to cope with this? Nothing is able to keep her mind off the intense want to maim and destroy.

She should be happy. Her last spree went so well, she got away scott-fucking-free, everyone views her as the helpless survivor of an attack when in reality she did it and framed the real victims. It’s been months, far too long, and she is feeling the urges bubbling up inside of her once again. She can’t go around killing without some sort of plan, it’s just asking to get caught and if she ends up in jail then she’ll never get to again. A complete nightmare, and one she wants to do everything possible to prevent.

It is to the point she is having trouble sleeping. Other hobbies are dull and lifeless, she has low motivation, food is bland, her mind is just consumed with thoughts of running through warm bodies with cold steel, of slicing, cutting, draining every single last drop of blood from a person. She needs to plan appropriately so she can hopefully satisfy her bloodlust, but she’s waited too long, the planning stage isn’t working as it normally is, it’s not fun, it’s frustrating her even further. She doesn’t want to plot, she just wants satisfaction now, she wants to feel the hot spray of blood hitting her face, soaking into her clothes, she isn’t able to pull the creative resources she needs from herself to do what the job would require, the well is dry.

You wake up to find her side of the bed empty and long gone cold, rolling over your check your phone, it’s past 3 AM. You groan and sit up, why isn’t she in bed? Furthermore, you’d insisted she get some sleep with you tonight, she’d been up late a lot this week, and you could see how restless and antsy she was getting, irritable and unable to keep her mood even. You get out of bed, pausing to get your robe off the hook on the back of the door, you pull it on and tie up the belt at your waist as you leave to go find her.

Sam is unable to sleep, she’s in the living room in the dark, a favoured gore fest of a horror movie on the TV and her favourite knife in her hand. She has her feet up, one hand is playing with a lock of her hair curling it around her finger, winding and unwinding it over and over, the opposite hand occupied with flipping the knife, a casual but impressive trick, the flick of her wrist practised, natural, complete muscle memory. She is still dressed in what she wore to bed, braless in the well fitting and tight white t-shirt, cotton dove grey shorts that creep high up her thighs. You lean against the wall and watch her for a moment.

You know what this is, you can see it in her body language, the tension is radiating off of her. She is unfulfilled, she is craving to hurt, she wants to kill, enact things she is watching on the screen, the desire to spill blood is overtaking her. She is smart, calculating, she knows that now is not the right time, but that doesn’t change the frustration she feels. You wish she could do what she really wanted to, but you know just as well as her it’s a bad fucking idea.

You knock quietly on the wall, and it makes her react immediately, sitting up, even more tense, she stops flipping the knife, gripping the handle, her head turns and upon seeing you she relaxes slightly. She slumps back into her original position, still holding the knife, she says quietly, “Hey.”

You walk over, returning her greeting, “Hey yourself.” Taking the seat next to her, you look over to her, a hand rests on her thigh, and you ask, “You okay?”

“Can’t sleep.” She sighs, and you laugh lightly, your hand squeezes her thigh, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Sorry, I know you hate waking up alone I just, I couldn’t keep lying in bed awake-” Her dark brown eyes meet your gaze, and you lean closer, shushing her, “Stop that, you’ve got a lot on your mind right now clearly, stop worrying so much about me.”

You are much more concerned about her than yourself, you adjust, one knee on the couch, you lean over further, one hand still firmly on her thigh and the other on the backrest of the couch. “I know what’s up with you-”

A dip of your head, your lips brush hers, a small peck before you pull back, continuing your thought, “-all pent-up, like you are locked in a cage, unable to do what you really want.”

She leans up, steals a kiss, and you indulge her momentarily before breaking it again, “We both know you can’t, not till you relieve some of this stress, so…”

Your hand leaves her thigh, fingers curl around her wrist and pulling up her hand, you have her slip her fingers through the opening of your robe over your chest, let her get a handful of you, arching closer into her touch you offer yourself up, “Take it all out on me.”

Her breath hitches, she doesn’t pull away, in fact her touch gets bolder, greedier, feeling you up, your lips barely an inch apart as she responds, “Baby, I can’t do that, I’ll hurt you-”

“I want you to hurt me. You need to draw blood to feel better? Why not mine?” Your hand is off her wrist, instead it latches onto her hand, the one holding the knife. Your head moves, gives some more breathing room, you hold the blade to your own thigh, exposed between the folds of your robe, the one you are kneeling on. You press, drag the unyielding silver over flesh, and you gasp from the jolt of pain, both of you watch as the skin splits and crimson begins to drip. Her resolve is splintering, you whimper out, “Please Sam?”

Those two words, that plea, begging, unlocks something in her. Makes some part of her snap, the last vestiges of self-control are abandoned in short order.

She practically drags you back to the bedroom.

You think at first she is going to have you on the bed, toss you onto the comforter and plush sheets, no that is apparently too good for you when she is in the mood, and you know that because she tells you as much. She pushes you down onto the dark hardwood floor, your eyes are questioning, which leads her to tell you, “C’mon sweetheart, you told me you wanted it to hurt, and I’m going to give you just what you asked for.”

She’s standing over you, passing the knife from hand to hand, sadistic smile playing on her lips and as she stares down at you, her look tattles on her thoughts, she's considering what to do with you, playing around mentally with just what she wants to do to you first. You watch as she starts to take her shorts off, knife still in one hand, she drops the fabric onto the floor and then next she is removing that all lace black panties she had on underneath, and you are already salivating at the view of her.

Your eyes are locked between her legs, you love every single part of her, but you’d be a filthy fucking liar if you couldn’t be honest about how much you adored her bare like this. You roam, from the well maintained patch of black hair to her prominent clitoral hood and the plump lips you could suck and toy with for hours.

You get your wish, she knows you well and what you are craving. She moves, standing over you and then lowers herself down, her knees on either side of your head as she straddles your face. Hands move on instinct, you reach up and grip her hips, moaning against her as soon as the flavour of her hits your tongue. Swiping up through her folds, getting a better taste before passing over her clit, you hum indulgently and repeat the motion. Over and over, taking care to spend more time focusing on that most sensitive part of her. She is moving her hips, grinding herself down on your lips and tongue, with a deep moan, “Fuck, you are the best little cunt eater around.”

You preen under her praise, it makes you work harder to please her, sucking deeply, eyes falling closed with another hum that makes her body buck on top of you. She is loving this, riding your pretty face, and you love it too, the taste of her, getting her wetter and wetter, listening to her moans and feeling her thighs clenching around your head. It is bliss, it is your purpose, to be used for her pleasure and enjoyment, nothing is better.

She reaches back and her fingers press on the cut on your thigh, the blood had slowed significantly and the rush of pain makes you moan louder against her. “What a pain slut you are. I bet if it touched you that you’d be fucking soaked.”

You know that to be true, your thighs rub together, and you feel the wetness staining them, you want some attention for yourself, but you want to keep pleasing her much, much more. You forget your own leaking cunt and choose to continue focusing on her instead.

She rolls her body again, her wetness is all over your face, it had started to run down your chin, you feel it on your neck. Your fingers squeeze her hips, and you continue to eat her out, you knew you were affecting her, her dirty talk is becoming more fractured, moaning much more. “God yeah-ugh-there you go, jus-just like that, ohhh, suck that fucking clit like you mean it.”

Her body starts to react in that way that you know all too well, tensing, breath coming in shorter gasps. She hadn’t even been riding your face for that long, but you were exceptionally skilled at this, had more than enough practice and knew how to get her off quickly, adept at giving her powerful orgasms with nothing more than your mouth. Knowing much better than to stop now, you keep going, unrelenting, feverish, you continue your current action, having pulled her clit into your mouth, tongue flicking over it while it is encased in the wet heat of you and in less than a minute more you are rewarded with her cumming on your face. You never grew tired of this, of her shuddering on top of you through her release, the minute movements as she wrung out every bit of sensation she could, the near guttural moan of your name that would pass through her lips.

It made you leak more, clench around nothing, long to feel the same.

Her body becomes still, but her breathing is still erratic, she raises up on her knees a little to give you some breathing room. You are staring up at her, you watch with rapt interest as she removes her shirt and tosses it, leaving her totally naked still on top of you. She is looking back down at you, a half smile playing on her features, one that is dangerous. She sets the knife down on the floor, and you know better than to even think about going for it. After a moment more to recover, she is getting up, ordering you firmly to, “Stay.”

You do as you are told. Laying there on the floor as you watch her move, she steps over you and out of your line of sight, you don’t even dare to turn your head to follow where she goes. You hear the opening of some drawers, you know what she is after. You hear her speak from somewhere behind you, “Strip.”

Hands scramble, rushing to comply, you take your robe off and toss it into the far corner of the room, leaving you totally bare. Sam insists you sleep naked, much prefers having you open and exposed, something you do not mind at all and do for her willingly. The floor feels hard and cool against your back, you have no real time to rest, you hear her footsteps coming close again and then there are fingers in your hair, they twine and twist, she pulls, tugging hard, “On your knees' whore, now”

You suck in a harsh inhale through your teeth, the sharp stab of pain radiating down the base of your skull, and you do as asked, getting up onto your knees, her firm hand guiding you. She’s back in your field of vision now, and she’s gotten her favourite toy to use with you, her strapless strap on.

It is dark purple and looks striking, totally stunning against her skin, it’s long and thick as it sits heavy between her legs, jutting outwards, it’s ribbed and whenever she has you it fills you up beautifully, hits all the best spots. In short, it makes you into a totally blissed out well fucked mess whenever she fucks you with it. With no straps, the way it is secured is with a curved and rather bulbous end that she inserts into herself, gives her something to clench on and when she gets into a good rhythm with fucking you it presses over and over into her g-spot. Further still, the toy contours and curves with her body, a textured pad right behind the shaft that pushes against her clit, giving her a completely perfect way to stimulate herself with ease while she is fucking you, every thrust in and pull out, hitting her both externally and internally.

You knew this next part very well. You needed to prep her strap for you to take it, you were soaked, totally dripping, but with how rough she was every bit helped. She pulls you near, and you move willingly, mouth opens, and with her other hand on the base of the toy she guides it between your lips. Cool silicone passes over your tongue as you close around it, you bob your head down, taking about half of the toy before pulling back, keeping just the tip between your lips. You loved when she made you blow her, she keeps pulling on your hair, guiding you, making you slide up and down her shaft, coating it in spit as you suck it. “You are so perfect, you know that? Just as cock hungry, right?”

You nod, eyes looking up at her as you work, focusing on blowing her and putting on a good show, but more than that too, when she makes you take it deeper? A hand on the back of your head, forcing you to take it as deep as you could, you choke and gag, when it hits the back of your throat she moans, you know this part feels the best. Whenever the tip of that dildo hits on something more solid, it provides a delectable jolt of pleasure for her. Both her hands are in your hair too, tugging and pulling, leading you to suck, drool is running down, drops landing on your own chest as she picks up the pace, moving her hips, fucking your face.

You gag so hard you start to tear up, “Pretty, pretty girl, you look best with tears all over that face.” You loved how she spoke to you, the mix she strikes of praise and degradation, of warmth and filth, it makes your blood sing.

When you gag again, a bit too hard, that kind of gag that makes your pace falter and the tears finally start to fall she clucks her tongue disapprovingly, “Are you even trying?”

You nod and Sam urges, “Show me then. Prove me wrong.” There is a light slap to your cheek that makes you inhale sharply though your nose and work harder. You want to please her, you do the tricks you know, you try to get a handle on your breathing, you squeeze your thumbs in your fists to help tame your gag reflex, and you push yourself. When she is moaning in that particular pitch, you know you are doing well.

You are doing so well in fact that she pulls the spit soaked shaft from your mouth, and she pushes you down, “Face down ass up.”

Your face is put down right there, into the mess that has collected, drips of spit and her arousal staining the wood, and your cheek is put into it, and you don’t fight it. She gets behind you, a rough slap to your ass that makes you groan, she loves how it sounds so she lays down a few more as she gets on her own knees.

“You are leaking everywhere oh my God-” She laughs, but there is no malice in it, she spanks you again, the pain is slight but strong, burning, you take it just as she wants you to and then all of a sudden hurt gives way to ecstasy. She slid inside of you with no issue, complete ease, because just as she said you are drenched. How could you not be, after all the build up and what she said to you? How she treated you. Her hips are flush with your ass, she is completely inside of you, and she moans, grinding herself against you, and you moan too, after inhaling you finally push out that sound showing how good it felt.

She pulls out halfway before slamming back into you to the hilt, the sensation rockets up your spine, the force of her thrust makes your body move, your cheek drags through the mess it is resting in and you moan. “Awe, you like that?”

You nod weakly, inhaling shakily, and the end breaks off into another choked off sob, “Course you do. You are so nasty, getting fucked face down in a puddle of drool.” She starts an even and steady pace, her hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the space of your shared bedroom.

“Depraved, disgusting-” She changes the angle, brushes that place inside you that makes your nails bite into the wood below you and cry out, “Right there!”

Another hit to your ass so hard that you yelp, she degrades you further, “I know where it is. You are stupidly easy to please, then again, all bitches like you are.”

“Sam, oh my God-” You gasp, and she laughs, “Sam, oh my Godddd-” she taunts, parroting back what you said, letting you really hear how needy and pathetic you are.

“Aren’t you even a little embarrassed?” She asks, and you moan out, “Noo-ooohhhh-”

“Course you aren’t, you’ve got entirely no shame.” She muses, her breathing is picking up as she is slamming into you, knowing she has found a particularly good rhythm that is working for her just as well. You are so consumed with everything she is doing to you that you don’t hear the sound of metal scraping, you don’t register her picking up the knife.

You feel it.

She cuts, desperate to harm and see more blood. The cuts are quick, light, surface level and each one is punctuated with another brutal thrust into you. One over your hip, outer thigh, the curve of your breast, you sob from each cut, hiccuping and wet and moan, deep and long from each hit of the head of her false cock on that swollen spot inside of you. The blood pours, it joins the mess on the floor, she presses her fingers to the wounds, causes more pain, you clench around her, she holds pace, but it gets messier, sloppier, she’s going to cum and you are so fucking close.

You are a pain slut, but the bright bursts of hurt are keeping you on the opposite side of the edge, she can tell, you are struggling, crying, desperate, “Awe, you havin’ trouble cumming baby?”

“Ye-yes!” You whine, she tsk’s, “Need some help?”

“Puh-lease?!” You don’t give a shit how pathetic you sound any longer, all you know is the intense and all consuming need to cum already. You are dripping down your thighs, totally frustrated and keyed up, you feel like if you don’t cum soon you might die, it’s hard to breathe, as if you are drowning, choking on sensation itself.

“Okay, I’ll help you, sweet thing.” You feel her move, her tits press into your back, her arms loop around you, one around your middle, over your waist and the other hand, the one still holding the knife is between your legs. The smooth and rounded end of the knife is dragged over the fresh cut on your thigh, it hurts, you yelp again, she catches the mess of blood, and then it is pressed to you. She used the blood for lube, the end of the knife was being pressed to your straining clit, she moves it in tight circles in time with her thrusts and having both spots abused inside and out has you falling apart in less than ten more thrusts.

You don’t forget yourself, still, before you do tip over, you are good, you ask, “Sa-Sam, close, please? Fuck, fuck, please?!” It spills out in a rushed babble, breathless, she is panting too, and you can tell by the tone of voice in her reply she is near her end too, “Fuck yeah, good girl do it, you’ve earned it-”

That’s more than you need for it to happen. You cum so hard, you make a mess, moaning incoherently and loud enough you are positive you will get a noise complaint, thighs feeling like they will give out, shaking, sweaty, bloody, cunt spasming around her shaft still driving in and out of you as you squirt onto the floor.

She loves when she makes you squirt, she is fucking you through your complete high, the mess is on her too, running down her toy and over her own slit, down her thighs, and it is enough to make her reach her end too. Your name stains her tongue as she peaks and holds deep, she grinds through the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body feels heavy and weak, the only thing holding her up is you. She doesn’t relent, over stimulation starts to set in, and you beg, “Stop, fuck-”

She drops the knife onto the floor, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Her hips have completely stopped, she is just sitting inside of you. Both of you are catching your breath, you ask, “Feeling better?”

“It’s a start.” She hums, and you laugh lightly, eyes falling closed, she slowly pulls out, and you wince slightly, feeling fucked out and sore in the best way, “Don’t get too comfortable, you have to clean me up still.”

You knew she meant not only the end that was just inside you, but the one that was still resting snugly inside of her.

#Ghostface x reader #Sam Carpenter x reader #Slasher x reader #BHF asks #BHF writing #HERE WE ARE #ENJOY THE FILTH #Scream 6 x reader

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106alibi · 26 days ago

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chapter 04. am I your fav girl? (smau + written)

jaemin pushed open the door, one arm balancing two wine glasses and a bottle of unopened wine. he peered in cautiously, only to be greeted by a dishevelled y/n sitting hunched over her computer, with some kind of report pulled up on her screen. jaemin frowned at her tired state and set the glasses on her study desk.

"you're here to tell me off right."

"whaaat no.. I'm just here to have... wine with my best friend..."

jaemin trailed off, his back facing y/n as he attempted to pop the cork off with a spoon (and was failing miserably). y/n huffed at the sight and rolled her eyes. patience was something y/n didn't know too well and everyone knew that. she pulled open her drawer and reached for her handy corkscrew, snatching the bottle from the struggling boy.

the cork came off with a pop as jaemin gave her a sheepish smile, taking over to pour their glasses. the two sat in silence, with y/n now propped at the edge of her bed and jaemin in her study chair as they sipped on the red wine, the smooth liquid sliding down y/n's throat like butter as her muscles slowly relaxed.

"you know jeno and minjeong meant no harm." jaemin started off cautiously. y/n slouched, thinking back on the conversation, hypnotised as the liquid rippled and danced in the wine glass.

she was lucky the conversation happened on a friday night, so that she didn't have to face minjeong at the lab the following day. but it felt weird, at the same time, not swinging by the campus cafe like she did every weekend to rip off free coffees and the occasional tarts from jeno while she occupied the counter seat from morning till night. she joked about it once with jeno that they should have her name engraved in the seat so no one would take it from her. she found out that day that she didn't have to worry, because jeno always saved the seat for her before she even came.

"y/n?" jaemin snapped her out of her thoughts.

she sighed. “I know. but they don't understand how important this is for me.”

y/n could feel frustration bubbling in her chest, and hopefully, she'd be able to keep it from bubbling past her lips and her eyes. she swallowed hard.

“i can't afford to screw up this internship. not when I've already let down mom and dad once.”

she masked her hurt over with a small, forced smile. jaemin listened patiently, his gaze tender as it held his best friend.

“they don't know anything. they don't know how hard I've worked to get here.”

“that's because you never told them, y/n. you call them your best friends but you don't talk about yourself a lot, if you've noticed.”

y/n fell silent at his words. it was true. someone as prideful as y/n would never open up so vulnerably, even to her closest friends. jaemin only knew because he witnessed the disappointed sighs of her parents. because he was there at her high school graduation when they weren't. because he was there when y/n fainted from pure exhaustion when she was studying for her exams.

“I…don't want to tell them.” she trailed off. her eyes looked everywhere but at jaemin, tipping the glass in her hands.

“I don't want them to pity me…or think I'm weak.”

jaemin's eyes softened. he rolled the chair forward and took the glass out of y/n’s hands, replacing them with his own warm, bigger ones.

“y/n, there's nothing wrong with being weak. you can't be strong all the time. if you want them to understand you, you need to try to make them understand too. don't lose them over this, please.”

he squeezed her palms softly. man, screw jaemin’s materialistic tendencies and whatever psych skill he learnt from his course. y/n nibbled the flesh of her bottom lip, looking down at her hands as she played with jaemin’s fingers on her lap.

“I…still don't think how you acted towards donghyuck was right. but what matters is what you do from now on. you'll apologise, right? to jeno, minjeong, and donghyuck.”

she jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. that's a lot of apologising she had to do, and a lot of apologising she's not used to doing. but as y/n thought about all the friends she had lost due to her unwavering pride and lack of effort, the many times she's told herself she didn't need anyone, she really thought she was okay with being alone.

but absorbed in the rigour of her studies, she had forgotten how lonely she was when she and jaemin attended different schools. she had to wash down the sour taste of envy daily with more textbooks, more revision, when girls in her class would go for karaoke after every exam. seat mates were just temporary friends who sought her help with homework and classmates were just people she once knew.

she didn't want jeno and minjeong to become people she once knew. of course, change couldn't happen overnight. but she wanted to try, at least. and it started with a simple apology.

“...could you call them over for me?”

<- chapter 03

chapter 05 ->

a/n: didn't bother to count the words... things obviously won't be so smooth sailing but 🫶 there'll be effort on y/n's part!

taglist: @luvvhaechan @snoopyjimin @haechsworld @yewshi @injunnie-lemon @hyucktion @n0hyuck @sofipolii01 @t-102 @fluermeijisblog

#nct #nct dream #nct fluff #donghyuck #haechan #donghyuck smau #haechan smau #nct smau #smau #nct dream smau #donghyuck imagine #donghyuck imagines #nct donghyuck #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan fluff #nct haechan #rinawrites: labrats!

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jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 1 month ago

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Surprise! I had quite a bit of extra free time at work these past few days (thank you delays) so here is the finished Halloween Sam oneshot I decided to write on a whim 😅 I do really like how it turned out so hopefully you all enjoy!

Thank you to the anon who inspired the first part of this story, friends to lovers Sam is way too good to pass up

Pairing: Sam Kiszka X fem!reader

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!! Not for minors! Halloween party, friends to lovers, drinking, blood, animal attack, hospitalization, crying, wee bit of angst, smut including: oral (fem rec), unprotected sex, tiny bit of breeding kink if you squint real hard, multiple orgasms, I think this is the most Sam characterization I’ve ever written, I probably missed something so let me know if I need to add

Word count: 14k

“Don’t you think you’re going to get cold in that?” Sam asked as he picked you up from your parents house before the party. “It’s a bonfire, which means outside, and there’s a low of like 33 degrees tonight”.

“Yeah, bonfire” you easily countered with the same sassy undertone as you stepped outside and locked the front door behind you. “That means warmth. Besides, you act like we weren’t both raised in Michigan”.

“Well I’m not lending you my jacket if you get cold” he forewarned, though you knew Sam would give you the shirt off his back if you’d only asked.

“I know, I’d only expect a gentleman to offer something like that”.

“Hey!” He shot back with a flustered rush to the passenger's side door of his car so he could open it for you and prove that he indeed was a gentleman, of sorts at least.

The sun was setting fast behind the tree line as you drove further from town and deeper into the wooded area surrounding the place you had always called home. It was silent between you and Sam, just some soft jazz music you could hardly make out over the sound of the tires rolling against the asphalt in the background.

The quiet didn’t bother you though. You and Sam had been friends for so long that something as simple as the presence of the other was calming, and little filler talk wasn’t necessary to maintain comfort. Anxiety did bubble in the pit of your stomach though, and you fiddled with the lace trim of your skirt to keep your hands occupied as you stared out the window at the quickly passing landscape.

Halloween was always one of your favorite holidays. Not for the candy, or the gimmicky decorations, or horror fest movie nights, but because for years now you and your friends had attended parties dressed up in group costumes. Coordinating your outfits usually always started the day after for the following year, residual excitement from the night before still fueling ideas for what to do next. This year was different. Jake, Josh, and Danny all had significant others who wanted to do couples costumes for the party tonight, which left only you and Sam to come up with something to wear.

The planning wasn’t as elaborate as the previous years, the both of you internally feeling a little less excited about dressing up without the rest of the group. Ultimately you had agreed on something simple and unlike what you had ever done before, Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

Of course you thought it would be funny if Sam dressed up as Little Red and you the wolf, him showing up in a skirt and a wig would definitely turn some heads. He quickly shot that down, so instead here you both were, you in your red and white checkered dress paired with the red cape and hand basket, and Sam with his painfully plain jeans, flannel, and fuzzy gray wolf ears situated in his long brown hair.

You broke the silence, turning your head to watch as he tapped his thumbs to the steering wheel like he was the one plucking the bass strings along with the song playing. “What are the others dressing up as?”

“Don’t know” he shrugged, “haven’t really talked to anyone since we made it back home. I kind of get enough of them on the road, want to see other people while I can”. His eyes flickered off the road for a brief moment to look your way, giving you a big warm hearted smile.

It was true, you and Sam had spent nearly his entire time home together, watching movies, talking about life, tour, college, even just going grocery shopping together because it was something mundane and easy, and you enjoyed the company.

Soon your question would be answered, because he flicked on his left turn signal, and waited for the only other car on the road to pass by before turning down a dirt road that led up a hill and to one of your mutual friends' cabin property.

“Ready?” Sam asked as he pulled the key from the ignition and shoved it into his front pocket.

“Yeah…” you trailed off when answering, looking out at the cabin already lit up with orange and purple string lights, the distant glow of the bonfire far in the background.

“Hey, we’re going to have fun tonight right?” Sam, without thinking about the implications of the action, rest his hand on top of your bare thigh just above the knee. “And if you want to leave early just let me know”. You nodded, pulling on a convincing smile before you both made your way along the gravel driveway to the porch.

Sam was the only one who knew about your newfound apprehension towards social situations. Before he and his brothers, and Danny, left to go on tour for their band you hadn’t much thought about how partys or big gatherings made you feel uncomfortable, because every party you went to they were there. Just like these past few days, you and Sam were inseparable growing up. He was your best friend, your partner in crime, and even your confidant the times when you needed it. You leaned on him and his outstanding personality heavily for support, not even realizing that when he was gone that meant you were going to fall flat on your face.

You tried socializing alone when you joined college. There was a party practically every weekend anyways, perfect opportunities to work on making new friends, but you learned quickly that no one caught your interest like Sam did. Eventually you gave up all together because the more you tried to replace Sam, the more you missed him.

“Looks like it’s a full moon tonight” Sam commented, lingering behind as you stepped up onto the porch to stare up at the glowing yellow orb in the sky.

“Perfect night for a party in the woods then” you giggled, reaching out for his hand to drag him inside.

After greeting the few people who were still mingling in the cabin and making some mixed drinks, you and Sam stepped back into the cool air. The sun had gone completely down by now and the wind was starting to pick up, making your skirt and cape blow as you walked towards the rest of the party hanging around the fire.

“Hey!” Danny spotted you first, easily waving you over as he stood a good head taller than everyone else around him.

You gave Danny a tight hug first, not even realizing how much you had missed him too until he had his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. “How have you been? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever!”

“I know, someone likes to keep you all to himself” Danny shot Sam a look to which he received an eye roll in return. “By the way, this is Caroline”.

You knew Danny had met someone recently, because Sam had told you, so you were excited to see who the lucky girl was. “Hi, how are you liking Frankenmuth?” You turned to the girl next to him, finding it so much easier to make conversation with someone new when you were surrounded by your long-time friends.

The two of you talked for a while, and Sam left with Danny to go back to the cabin and get Caroline a new drink. When they returned Jake and Josh were also in tow with their significant others. Everyone was dressed in their own pair of costumes, you and Sam included, which made you feel a bit awkward considering you were the only ones not dating.

“You look so good!” Jake’s girlfriend commented, giving you a tight hug next.

“Sam, you could have tried a little harder” Jake mentioned, reaching up to flick one of his stuffed ears, but Sam dodged him just in time, spilling his drink on his hand a little in the motion.

“I think they’re cute” his girlfriend nudged him in the side to knock it off. “Their costumes make more sense than ours do”.

“Wait let me guess!” You turned back to Danny and Caroline first, their matching black cloaks and the obvious wands sticking out of his pocket. “Ok you guys are students from Hogwarts”.

Next you took in Josh and his partner for the first time since they joined you, giving them a wave in the meantime. Their costumes were also very easy to recognize, Josh wearing an all white ensemble with a feather boa and gemstone rimmed glasses, and his partner in a white undershirt tucked into jeans with a studded black belt. “Alright, Elton John and Freddie Mercury”.

Finally you looked over Jake and his girlfriend again. He was wearing brown pants, a white button up he had characteristically nearly completely unbuttoned with a black bandanna tied around his neck, and a brown pistol holster strapped around his shoulders. His girlfriend was wearing a matching brown skirt, white button up as well with a black scarf knotted in front of her chest, and in place of her usual glasses were a more old fashioned pair with round lenses. “Umm, tomb raider?” You guessed, chuckling because you knew it had to be wrong but for some reason that was the only thing popping into your head.

“See!” She grumbled, pushing his chest a little to say I told you so.

“Tomb raider?!” Jake exasperated, “more like the rousing, suspenseful, and horrifying 1999 epic The Mummy”.

“Don’t think I’ve seen it” you deadpanned, making Jake’s jaw drop even further as he looked over at Sam in disbelief.

“Alright Mr. O’Connell give her a break; she was more sheltered as a kid than we were”. Sam asked Jake to back off, even though he did think their costumes were pretty cool.

“What have you guys been up to? We missed you at the barbecue the other day” Jake’s girlfriend questioned you and Sam next.

You placed the plastic cup containing the alcoholic beverage that was sure to make your head feel light and fuzzy in no time against your lip to hide the blush creeping up on your face. There was no reason for you to feel embarrassed about missing the little afternoon get together at the Kiszka house the other day. It wasn’t like you and Sam had done anything to be ashamed of, just randomly decided to ditch it in favor of a mini road trip to the next town over to go to that diner neither of you had been to in years.

That drive was completely different than the one this evening. The music had been cranked loud and your sides were hurting from laughing so hard as you watched Sam singalong from the driver's seat, nearly running the car off the road more than once because he ‘wasn’t used to driving himself around’. You remembered thinking about what it would be like to constantly be on the road with Sam. To see all the amazingly beautiful places he saw, picturing him pretending to be your educated tour guide as you explored new cities neither of you had ever visited before, making up stories as you went just to see you smile. That was one thing you could always count on when being around Sam, that he could make you smile.

“I wasn’t feeling well so she let me take a nap at her place” Sam lied for you, making you glance over at him in confusion. It wasn’t often you heard Sam lie, in fact you were convinced he was terrible at it because every time he did try to lie to you, you immediately called him out on it. No one seemed to question it though, so you decided to save yours for later.

A while passed as you all caught up, and you made a mental note to yourself to convince Sam to hang out some more before everyone left again. Even if you had been a little weary while getting ready to come out tonight, you were quickly realizing now that you’d had nothing to worry about, and that all though you missed Sam quite a lot you had missed everyone else too. Sam offered to get more drinks, and he had been in the cabin for a minute now so he was sure to be coming back any time soon.

“So, who’s idea was it to dress as Little Red Riding Hood?” Caroline asked you. “That’s a cute couples costume”.

Everyone else in the group shared the same look as you shifted your weight before thinking of how to answer that without making her feel out of place for not knowing the dynamic. “Oh, umm, it’s not really a couples costume”. You stared down at your now empty cup, swirling around the tiny droplets that still clung to the bottom rim.

She didn’t get the hint though. “Really? I mean I know the wolf was a bad guy but Sam seems really nice-”

“No like I mean it’s not a couples costume because we’re not a couple”. You cut her off, trying to not be too irritated about having to spell it out.

When you looked back up, Danny was staring at something behind you, so you turned to see that Sam had been there the whole time listening to everything you said. He had a downturned look to his face as he handed you the new cup and took the old one in return. Then silently he turned on his heels and marched back inside.

“Hey! Sam, wait up!” You called after him, rushing to follow him back into the cabin to see what was the matter.

He didn’t stop until he was back in the kitchen, and he not so subtly threw your empty cup into the trashcan before turning to try and push past you. Something was wrong.

“Are you alright?” You placed a hand against the front of his shoulder to stop him. “Did I say something?”

Sam huffed, leaning back against some cabinets since you wouldn’t let him go, and crossed his arms over his chest in a pout.

“Talk to me Sam” you pleaded with him. He was always like this when he was irritated, he would close himself off and avoid you like you were supposed to just magically know what was wrong, but you weren’t a mind reader, and you weren’t his girlfriend, so you didn’t have to put up with this.

“Fine, if you’re going to act like that I’m going back outside”. You went to follow through with your threat, but just as you turned around he caught your wrist and pulled you back.

“What if it was a couple costume? What if…” he chewed on a bit of skin flaking on his bottom lip as he debated really putting this out there. “What if we could be?”

“What are you talking about?” You tried to pretend like you didn’t know what he was suggesting, but he raised his brows in a way that meant he knew you were just playing clueless. “But we’re friends Sam, best friends”.

“And? Daniel and I are best friends too, but I don’t feel the same way about him as I do you”. He squeezed the hand he held onto a little tighter, trying to get you to believe him and understand. You wanted to pull away, your heartbeat was racing and you were sure he could feel it with his thumb wrapped around your pulse point.

“Everyone practically thinks you’re dating too” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief at what was coming out of your mouth, but it was spilling out nonetheless. “I’ve half a mind to think he brought that girl along just to try and convince everyone that he’s not in love with you”.

Sam did drop your hand at that and stared down at you in disappointment for even insinuating such a thing. “You know he wouldn’t do something like that. He really likes her, and after coming home, seeing everyone again, spending so much time with you, it’s becoming clear to me how much I really like you”.

With your hand freed you took a hesitant step back, trying to give yourself some room to think. It would be a lie for you to say you had never considered the possibility of something more with Sam. How could you not? He was the most amazing person you had ever met and you were set on the fact that no one would ever come close to understanding you like he did.

The problem was you knew if you took that leap of faith there would be no coming back from that. Agreeing to date Sam would be like taking a dive off a high bridge, not knowing if the line that held you safe would be able to handle the jump, and if it snapped everything would be gone in the blink of an eye.

“I like you too Sam, a lot, but I can’t” your eyes avoided his, like you were physically incapable of watching his reaction as you tried to let him down. “Maybe at some point we could have tried, but now I don’t think it will work. Our lives have grown too different, I’m just barely starting my second year of college and all the while you’re off traveling the world playing shows to fans who adore all of you. I can’t even begin to compete with them”.

“There’s no competition” Sam argued, his tone growing louder and more desperate to the point people who had come into the kitchen not knowing what was going on were starting to clear out and give the two of you some privacy. “I don’t look at it that way. I don’t think I can. Not when the only thing I’ve been able to think about since I left was you”.

There was something you could sympathize with, because for all you knew you had him beat there. Sam was on your mind more often than you wanted, and you had tried and failed to distract yourself with other things to keep your heart from longing.

Although his confession should have made your heart feel whole, it started to crack in half at the idea of having to long for him even more. “I can’t” you repeated, no other excuse, just heartbroken denial.

“I- I understand” Sam replied defeatedly with a slump of his shoulders. He wanted to argue more, wanted to fight harder because he knew now after all the time apart that no one would ever make him feel even a fraction of the way he felt about you. The turmoil he could see behind your eyes scared him though, made him second guess every small little moment between you two that he had read into hoping that it meant you felt the same way.

The way you immediately lit up the moment he laid eyes on you upon returning home. He had been so nervous that you wouldn’t be as excited to see him again as he was you, that the many months away had made you more strangers than best friends, but it didn’t.

The way you agreed with anything he suggested, having grown accustomed to the picky little fights he and his brothers couldn’t help but get into while cooped up on a bus together for days on end. The way you let him rest his head in your lap. Your fingers automatically moving into his hair to scratch lightly against his scalp until he was falling asleep.

Maybe, it had all meant nothing.

“Everything alright?” Danny asked when you returned solo, having parted ways to rejoin the others when Sam said he needed a minute alone.

“I’ll be fine” you could feel your tongue thick in your mouth with the lie, and you took a long drink out of your cup hoping the alcohol would help numb the pain.

“Where’s Sam?” Jake asked, his intuition getting the best of him when he didn’t see the youngest had returned with you.

“He went somewhere that way” you answered with a point of your finger. Jake squinted in the dark, hoping that you were pointing to the random shed in the yard, but knowing better that you were actually referring to the thick of trees surrounding the property.

“He wandered off into the woods alone?” Jake sighed, already moving to hand his beer off so he could go hunt him down.

“I’ll go” Danny stepped forward. He and Jake exchanged some silent looks before Jake ultimately nodded in agreement.

“You know, Sam missed home the most” Jake mentioned in a lower voice so that it would just be the two of you talking. “I thought, with his spirit, he would just go and never look back. That wasn’t the case”.

“Wonder why?” You replied like you didn’t already know now that you probably played a big role in that, and took another drink.

“I know it's going to be hard for you when we have to leave again, but just know, it’s hard for all of us. Sam, he hides it from you how guarded he is because he wants you to think that he’s having the best time ever so that you won’t worry about us”. As Jake explained this to you your heart started pumping loudly in your ears again. You thought back on all the calls and FaceTimes you’d had, he was always smiling when he saw you even if you could tell that they were actually pretty busy or having a rough day. Had he really put on a face just so that you couldn’t see what was really going on behind the scenes? You wondered if that made you a true friend then, if he couldn’t even let you in on when he was feeling run down or unhappy.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before the words were formed a loud yell came from behind.

“Help!”

You'd recognize the voice anywhere, it was Danny calling for someone, and by the sound of it he was panicked. Without even turning around yet you watched as Jake’s face fell into pure terror and your heart sank.

Sam. Danny went into the woods after Sam.

Quickly you dropped your cup and took off towards the direction you had pointed them in, seeing Sam slumped over in Danny’s arms as he helped him over. He was practically dragging him when he reached the cabin, one of his arms around Sam’s waist with one of Sam’s arms around his shoulders.

“He’s breathing” Danny informed you when you got to them, placing your body up against the other side of your friend to help carry some of his weight. In doing so you felt something warm trickle onto your dress, and when you looked over you saw that the entire left side of Sam was covered in blood coming from three large gashes in his neck.

“Oh my god! What happened!” You shrieked and Sam’s brothers came running over to see what was happening as well.

“I don’t know” Danny gasped, “a bear maybe?”

“Bear?!” You repeated in shock, “fuck we need to get him to a hospital, now!”

“I’m calling for an ambulance” Jake jumped in, his phone already pressed to his ear.

In all the commotion you tried to get a response from Sam to see what had happened, see if he could even speak with the tears on his skin in such a delicate place and the blood still seeping out. “Sam! Sam stay with me please!” He was drifting in and out of consciousness, looking pale from the blood loss. You yanked at the tie on your cape and pulled it off, placing the bunched up fabric against his wound to try and stop some of the bleeding.

“You’re going to be okay Sammy, we got you. We’re all right here. Help is on the way”.

Sam’s eyes came into focus for a brief moment, searching around in the distance for the sound of the voice that has brought him back to until they zeroed in on you standing right in front of him. Despite his current situation his lip curled into a slight smile, and you felt under the quickly dampening cloak against his neck that he was trying to say something. You pulled closer, trying to make it easier for him to whisper to you, but his brows furrowed tightly and his eyes rolled shut again.

When you finally got the chance to see Sam again he was laying in a hospital bed, the IV in his hand hooked up to a drip of antibiotics to prevent any infection. There were more wires coming from his chest underneath the hospital gown and connected to a heart monitor that beeped at a slow steady pace in the otherwise hauntingly quiet room. A large bandage was affixed to nearly the entirety of his neck, you’d heard he needed stitches and that it was a miracle his jugular veins were still intact.

“Oh Sam”. Your eyes welled up with tears at the sight of him laying there unconscious. Collapsing on the chair next to him you reached under the thin hospital blanket to find his hand and wrapped it in yours. “I’m so sorry, so sorry I said what I did”.

The tears were streaming down your face now, and you turned to wipe them away on your shoulder, trying to gather yourself so you could keep talking to him, hoping he could somehow hear you.

“I do like you Sam. I think I kind of love you actually. I want to be with you”.

You waited for a response, some silly part of your brain wishing for a miracle, that your reciprocation of his feeling would be enough to wake him up and everything would be alright. But he didn’t move a muscle, and you knew he needed the rest, so you leaned over and placed your head against the edge of the bed, staring up at him until your eyes too fell heavy and you drifted into a light restless sleep.

“Hey” you heard a voice gently call you back awake and your shoulder shake. Opening your eyes you saw that you hadn’t shifted an inch in your sleep, still holding Sam’s hand in your own. Sam was still asleep too, but the color had returned to his face and the heart monitor was still sounding off in the background.

“Your parents are here to take you home” Jake informed you, watching as panic started to surface at the thought of leaving Sam here alone. “I’m going to sit with him for a while. Go take a shower and eat something. I’ll call you if anything happens”.

Even if you wanted to stay with him, you knew that you should be thankful they even let you be in here with him for this long. Jake was his brother, and the rest of his family was no doubt waiting in another room, and you were just his friend. A level of relationship you regret at this moment.

“Ok” you spoke hoarsely, pulling yourself up from the chair and feeling your body ache from the awkward position you had fallen asleep in. “You’ll call me?”

Jake nodded, waiting patiently for you to give Sam one last wistful look before leaning over, careful not to disturb his bandaging, and pressed your lips to his.

When you got home your parents had made breakfast, but you pushed most of it around on your plate, eating just enough to soak up the leftover alcohol from last night and excused yourself to shower. Blood had dried onto your costume, staining the already red fabric a darker, rusty color. It wouldn’t even be worth it to try and get it out, so you threw the piece away before climbing into the hot stream.

It felt good to clean your face, scrubbing your tear ruined makeup free, then your hair, and the rest of your body monotonously without any thought. You couldn’t think right now, because if you did you would just cry some more. When your head hit the pillow you were out again, not even having realized how exhausted you were until it was time to give up.

It wasn’t clear to you how many hours had passed when your phone started to ring. You shot out of bed, grabbing the little rectangle you somehow managed to plug in on your night stand just before passing out, and answering it without even checking to see who was calling.

“He’s awake” Jake spoke as soon as you answered. “And he’s been asking for you”.

“I’m on my way”.

Flying out of bed you pulled some jeans on, not even bothering to change from the random t-shirt plucked from our closet you had slept in. Your heart was pounding. He was physically alright, you knew that when you left the hospital early this morning, but last you truly spoke to Sam emotionally he was going through it. Did he really want to see you? Or was Jake just saying that to make you feel better?

Jake, Josh, and Danny were all crowding Sam’s room when you arrived, but they cleared out one by one and shut the door behind them to give the two of you some time alone. Sam was sitting up in his bed now, a small rolling table with half eaten food sitting next to him, and he was drinking water from a straw in a salmon colored cup.

“There you are” he smiled brightly as soon as you tentatively sat down. His voice was quieter than normal, more weak and strained, but other than that he seemed his usual self.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to keep your eyes from constantly flicking down at the fresh set of bandages on his neck.

“Fine actually” he smiled again, “when I woke up the doctor had to take the stitches out because they were bothering me, but he said it was fine because I was already starting to heal. Actually he said I had the best recovery time from someone with this injury he had ever seen”.

Sam seemed proud of himself, but you worried if he was doing the thing Jake had mentioned and saying that just so you wouldn’t concern yourself too much with it.

“What about you?” Sam asked in return, “Jake said you were here all night. Did you go home and get some rest?”

“Me?” You peeped, clenching your hands into fists in your lap. “Why are you worried about me? You should be furious with me”.

“What?” Sam’s brows turned up in confusion and he set his cup down onto the table. “Why would I be mad at you?” You shared a weary look, both recounting the conversation last night that had led Sam to go into those woods alone.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault” your eyes prickled again, but you fought back the tears, staring up at the bright hospital lights on the ceiling to dry them back out.

“Woah, wait” Sam reached for your hands, and you stood up quickly to get closer to the side of his bed so he wouldn’t have to move too much. He reached over and tucked a piece of your bed dried hair behind your ear, smiling again. “It’s not your fault. I was being an idiot… I am an idiot”.

“No Sam, if anyone here is an idiot it’s me” you shook your head, “for trying to make you believe that I didn’t want to be with you”.

“So?” Hope started to fill his voice again, making him sound more like himself than before, “are you saying you changed your mind then?”

You chuckled softly, his unexpectedly cheerful attitude catching you off guard, but it was still a huge relief. “Don’t think my mind ever needed changing, I just needed to accept it”.

“Well, this is great news!” Sam beamed, “glad all it took was me being sent to the hospital for us to work it out”.

“Shut up” a single tear did make its way down your cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb before you placed your hand on his and held it against your face.

“Make me” he muttered, his eyes flicking down to your lips, and you did. You leaned over and connected your mouths in a real kiss.

Kissing Sam was different than you thought it would be. You thought it would be at least a little bit awkward considering you had known him since he was just a messy little kid that occasionally ate leaves to make you laugh. This kiss felt more like your first kiss, the one you wait for your entire life, only ten times better, because it was your first kiss with Sam.

When you parted your lips, and he slipped his tongue inside, you reached forward and cupped his face in your palms. You turned his head to the side and kissed him harder, some spark having ignited in you the moment you finally accepted that you did. You did love him.

“Oww, ow careful there tiger” Sam pulled back, checking the tape on his bandages with a breathless laugh.

“Oh god, I’m sorry” you quickly apologized and took a step backward, but Sam quickly wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to sit down on the bed next to him.

“Never apologize for kissing me again, just maybe a little gentler for now”.

“Okay” you giggled, placing the softest kiss to his cheek to which he rolled his eyes and leaned in again.

It had been nearly a week since you and Sam made it official, and you had taken every minute of every day to try and make yourself believe that this was all real, that he was your bonafide boyfriend now.

In regards to the heated first kiss, you had decided to take things slow…

Slow worked, because the moment Sam was discharged from the hospital you had dedicated yourself to taking care of him. That was the least you could do considering part of you still felt guilty about Sam getting hurt that night in the first place.

That didn’t mean that the two of you didn’t get carried away from time to time though. Like now, you were in Sam’s bedroom, tops on the floor, and you were sitting in his lap as you attacked his lips with your own.

“You’re so fucking hot” Sam groaned as his hands fondled your chest over your simple little bra, leaning over to kiss the tops of your breasts that spilled over the cups.

“You are too” you smiled, running your fingertips over his chest. “Like really hot actually. Are you okay?” You moved your hand to his forehead, testing if he had a fever.

“I’m fine” he laughed, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his chest. “Better than ever actually”.

“Yeah?” You smiled again, pushing your concern aside in place for something more intimate. Sam’s hand remained over yours on his chest but you looked down at them, then lower, to the obvious bulge in his pants. Sam followed your line of sight before the both of you made eye contact again. He wrapped his fingers around yours and slid your hand down his stomach, holding your eyes in his as they came to rest over his groin.

“Baby” he rasped as you eagerly palmed him over the material “I-”.

“I know” you whispered, moving to unbutton his pants so you could get your hand closer to him. He was so hot and hard, it was turning you on to the point you felt like you were going to throw all inhibitions out the window. Fuck going slow, fuck being easy, you wanted him.

Your lips crashed back together, and you could feel the heat from his body seeping into your own, supercharging your nerves until your extremities buzzed with excitement.

“Sammy!” Josh’s voice came with a light knock on the other side of the door.

“Mmm, what!” Sam exasperated, annoyed that he was getting interrupted with your hand literally in his pants right now.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just here to tell you dinner is ready”.

“Fuck din-”

You cut him off with your hand clamped around his mouth and a giggle. “Shhhh, come on they’re waiting on us”. With a disagreeable sigh Sam let you crawl out of his lap and you both redressed to head downstairs.

“Sammy” you whispered when you were finally back up in his bedroom, tucked against his side as he started to drift off to sleep.

“Hmm?” You felt the sound of his voice vibrating through his chest against your cheek.

“Tomorrow night is Halloween, and I know the last party we went to kind of ended badly, but I was wondering…” your voice trailed off. Somehow even after getting so close earlier, you were still nervous to be asking this.

“What? Do you want to get away from everybody? Spend some alone time together?” Sam finished your sentence for you with heavy insinuation in his tone, and it was exactly what you were going to say.

“Yes, I do” you buried your face into his chest, already feeling the way your core throbbed at the thought of finally having him.

“What if I said I already thought of that?” He asked, making you peek back upwards at him. He was staring affectionately back at you as his palm ran up and down your back. His irises were a shot of deep espresso surrounded by milky white, a sight you wanted to drink in forever.

“I’d say I might be in love with you then” you confessed, though it didn’t feel like a big deal. You'd loved Sam for a long time, you could just say it out loud now.

Now that it was bright outside with the late afternoon sun beaming through the windows of Sam’s car as you drove down the highway, you didn’t even realize that the landscape of trees outside looked familiar until he was turning down that same dirt road he had the night of the costume party a week ago.

“Why are we here?” You questioned, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, flashes of that night invading your mind and making your blood pressure sky rocket.

“I thought it would be nice to come back here now that it’s just us. I don’t want your memory of this place to be bad forever” he explained, feeling sorry for not mentioning it to you first, but he didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

“Whose cabin is this anyways?”

“It belongs to Jake’s girlfriend’s grandparents, but they don’t get around much anymore so they’ve kind of let us take it over. We came here to write some music at one point. I really love it here”.

“Well,” you looked out the window, watching the rather large wooden building with the wide porch and large windows that warmed the living areas with lots of natural light come into view at the top of the hill. It was a rather beautiful place, and you did always like being submerged in the outdoors, so you put your hesitation aside and let the excitement for the day's awaited activities seep in again. “I guess it’ll do then” you blushed, thinking about all the filthy things you were about to do in someone else’s space.

Sam grabbed your small duffel bag packed with a few changes of clothes and your toiletries, slinging it over the same shoulder as his backpack, and took your hand in his as he led you up to the front door. “You should’ve seen this place when we first got here. It was covered in dust, and spider webs, I had the worst allergies for like three days after we all cleaned it up”.

“You have the worst allergies anyways” you giggled as he fumbled with getting the brass key out of his pocket so he could unlock the deadbolt. “Here let me help”. You grabbed the key from him and it slid into the lock like butter, the door popping open with the wood having settled years ago.

“So they just let you have the key when you asked to stay here?” You raised your brows in interest when the two of you made it inside and he guided you down the hallway away from the kitchen, which was the only room you really got to see last time, and into a bedroom to put your things away.

“Yeah,” he replied modestly with a pitch in his voice, remembering exactly what had been said when he asked.

“Just don’t break any furniture little brother” Jake teased him with a knowing look in his eye after Sam explained it would just be you and him staying the night.

“I said I wasn’t really feeling giving out candy to kids all night and wanted somewhere quiet to relax”.

“Right,” you stood in the threshold of the doorway, your eyes flicking back and forth from Sam to the small bed with the wooden bedframe just behind him, “relax…”

Sam got your drift, moving to capture you by the waist and pull you further into the bedroom with him. You let out a loud laugh as he tickled your neck with kisses, his hands falling to the swell of your ass and giving it a squeeze. “If it’s relaxing you want I can stay in one of the other bedrooms? There’s like three down that hallway” you teased.

“I don’t fucking think so”. Sam’s demeanor quickly started to shift from his usual playful self to something entirely more starved, more lustful. “You’re staying right here with me, and the second I get you out of these clothes it’s over for you”.

Your thighs pressed together involuntarily and your hands came up to cradle the back of Sam’s head, letting your fingers tangle into his long luscious hair. “What are you waiting for then? Strip”.

There was no asking twice, Sam was already lifting your shirt over your shoulders and throwing it onto the floor before capturing your lips into a frenzied kiss. His hands returned to your back, but instead of traveling downward this time he reached upwards between your shoulder blades to unclasp your bra, the straps falling loose in between where your chests were pressed together.

When you broke the kiss you leaned backwards in his grasp and slipped free of the now useless piece of undergarment, shyly letting him see your bare chest for the first time. His eyes grew wide as he took in your perky breasts, nipples already hardening with the slightly chilly late October air in the cabin, and in one head spinning move he bent down and lifted you up.

Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist for support before you even realized what was happening, and his mouth latched on, sucking and licking needily while he turned and walked the few steps over to the bed. The mattress was softer than you expected when he threw you down, quickly shedding his own layers of button up shirt and heathered T underneath before climbing on with you.

When he approached on all fours you took in the sight of him, hair a tousled mess from your hands, and smooth golden honey skin marked only by the red welts still scratched into the side of his neck.

He had healed remarkably fast over the past week. It was astonishing really how he was already well enough to do this much physical activity, but he said it didn’t bother him at all anymore and that the scar that was forming was actually kind of cool.

“Sam, do you feel alright? You’re warm again” You asked when he came to lay on top of you, his hips grinding against your center in a way that made you ache all over.

“I feel amazing,” he groaned, the obvious proof of his arousal pressing tight against the front of his pants. “I just want you so bad, it’s driving me crazy”.

Your hands roamed all along the slender lines of his back. His skin felt hot to the touch despite the goosebumps that pickled against your exposed stomach, but you brushed it off as the rushing of his blood just underneath the surface. You could feel your blood rushing too, your heart working in overdrive to keep up with the reactions your body had to his touch.

Sam kissed at your breast again, pulling a soft whimpering moan from you as his mouth traveled lower and his nimble fingers worked at unbuttoning your pants. “Need to taste you first, is that okay?”

How someone could possibly say no to that was besides you, but that would be a thought for another time because now all you could think about was how Sam was perched between your legs waiting rather impatiently for your answer.

You fervently agreed, and with that your pants were being pulled down your hips and off your legs in one fast movement. Then again, only slower, your panties were removed as well as Sam watched for any wavering conviction.

When he saw that there was nothing but pure desire behind your eyes, he descended again, positioning himself comfortably with one of your legs wrapped around his shoulder and the other spread against the bed for a full view at just how turned on you were as well.

With the first touch of his tongue against your core you were already arching your back off the mattress, “Sam” falling from your lips in a wonton moan.

Sam groaned at the sound of his name coming from you in that way, and dove in, unable to hold himself back any longer. He ate you out like a lost man stranded on a deserted island finding a puddle of water to quench his undeniable thirst, lapping at your entrance and sucking on your swollen clit until you were writing beneath him.

“Oh my god Sam” you moaned again, reaching down to grab a fist full of his hair to ground yourself as you felt your first climax rushing towards you. He pressed his fingers deeper into the skin of your hip, pulling you down closer so that there was nowhere else for you to go, your involuntarily squirming only grinding yourself harder against his mouth.

One more heavy flick of his tongue and you were seizing, your legs closing around him as your body shook with pleasure. Sam never stopped, it was like he didn’t even need air the way he just swallowed down your release with a satisfied hum, resurfacing with a glistening chin and a smug grin.

“Taste so good baby” he placed one last kiss to your thigh before sitting up and unbuttoning his pants, “got to feel you do that again on my cock”.

All the morality you had left in you was out the door now as you watched him shed his last pieces of clothing, your mouth watering at the way his length sprung free when he pulled his boxers off. You wanted him in your mouth too, wanted to taste him just like he’d done for you, but Sam couldn’t wait any longer to have you.

Reaching behind you, he grabbed one of the many fluffy pillows that adorned the bed and lifted your hips to stuff it underneath them.

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll go slower” he leaned forward over your body, coming to rest on one of his elbows as he brushed away a few strands of hair from your face.

“No Sammy this is perfect” you smiled up at him, reaching for his cheek so you could pull him down into a deep kiss.

He kissed you back, returning it with more intensity as his hips began to rock into yours, his tip gliding through your wetness and brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves until he finally slipped inside. You gasped at the stretch, clawing at his back as he inched all the way in until you were taking every bit he had to offer, and it was a lot.

“Fuck I-” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tried to reel himself back and not start pounding into you like a wild animal.

You placed a kiss between his brows, encouraging him to relax and let go, and he did. With an exhale, Sam settled against you and started to rock his hips forward, not even pulling out, just nudging as deep as he could go.

“Feels amazing Sammy, please…” you whined, already having adjusted to his size and ready for more.

Grabbing a hold of your hips once more Sam sat up and pulled back, watching as his entire length disappeared into you as he snapped forward again, causing you to cry out in ecstasy. He lost himself in that motion, tirelessly working you both towards your peak with each blow delivered right to your sweet spot with the help of your elevated hips.

“How does this feel so good?” He emphasized each word with another hard thrust, the heavy headboard thumping against the wall in a way that made you grateful you had decided to get away for this, though never expecting your first time together would be this hot.

Passionate? Yes. But this was more than that.

You and Sam physically aligned in a way unsurpassed by any of your previous partners, and by the fucked out look on Sam’s face he certainly felt the same way.

The way you clenched around him made Sam know you were getting close again, he was getting close too, but he wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. Actually he felt like he was only just getting started. So he grabbed one of your legs and tossed it over your lap, twisting you at the waist until you were rolling over onto your stomach. He helped you up by lifting your hips until you were situated on your knees, then he started to pound into you from behind with an unrelentless force that was making you see stars.

“Come here sexy” he reached around between your legs, finding your clit again with the pads of his fingers as he started to rub tight circles across it. All the while you met each thrust with your own rocking back and forth, pressing your ass against him with loud claps of skin against skin, your lovemaking the only sounds resonating through the secluded cabin.

“Don’t stop, I’m almost there” you panted, so out of breath but still enough air in your lungs to beg him to make you cum again. And you did, hard, to the point your vision was blurring and your mouth fell open but nothing could escape the confines of the grip your orgasm had on your mind and body.

“Fuck, that’s it right there”. The feeling of you releasing again toppled him over the edge too, and Sam pulled out just in time to send hot ropes of cum shooting across your backside.

You both stayed still for a few moments, trying to come down from your highs and the residual effects that held your bodies in aftershock, until Sam left the bed and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor to help wipe you down.

He collapsed onto the bed after, gathering you up in his arms and pulling you to his chest. It was sticky with sweat, but you didn’t mind. A shower could always come later, all you wanted right now was to be held by your boyfriend and listen to his heartbeat fluttering wildly.

“You’ve been holding out on me” Sam broke the silence once more with an amazed laugh, his mind still replaying the scene before like footage stuck in a loop.

“Was not” you teased him, running your finger in circles around one of his nipples to see his reaction. He only laughed some more, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips for a kiss to your palm.

“Were too” in true Sam fashion he argued back. “To think, we could’ve have been doing that for a whole week now”.

“Not a whole week. You just got out of the hospital and needed rest”.

He squeezed his arm around your shoulders tighter, “No, I think all I needed was you, cause I feel better than ever”. You couldn’t help but glance down, noticing he was still pretty hard despite already cumming once.

“You know Sammy, I did already tell you that I’m on birth control, didn't I?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, and he could recall you mentioning it one time as a kind of off handed comment once you started getting a little more physical in your relationship. “Yeah? Why do you ask?” He cocked a brow, hoping this conversation was going exactly where he wanted it to.

“We’ll because you didn’t…” you trailed off, a bright pink blush surfacing in the apples of your cheeks preventing you from saying it aloud, but Sam knew just what you were trying to say.

“What is it sexy?” He cooed into your ear, sending shivers down your spin as his other hand came down to grip your side. “You wanted me to cum in you? Is that it?”

His voice sounded like raw electric current, shocking its way through your body, waking up every nerve in its path and settling right in your core. “Well, what’s the harm? Should be safe as long as I keep track of everything”.

More than willing to correct his wrong, Sam’s hand hooked underneath your knee and he pulled you on top of him. “What if I want to get you pregnant though?” He pressed, connecting his lips to your neck and making you arch your back.

“Sam-” your voice was caught in your throat when he sucked harder and the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, just begging for you to drop your hips and let him enter you again. “I want that too, but not right now”.

“No. Not now,” he agreed, licking over the mark he left, “but someday. I want that. Want you to have my babies. What do you think? Six? Seven?”

“Sam!” You gasped in disbelief, “that many?”

“As many as you’ll let me give you” he shamelessly admit, moving his nibbling teeth to your shoulder next. “Think we should start practicing now?”

“Think I want you to kiss me again” you answered, bringing your lips to his just as you sank down onto him in one go. He groaned into your mouth, and you bit at his lips, getting him back for all the filthy things he had so easily said that got you all flustered again.

If you thought getting fucked by Sam was great, being in control was even better. With your hands planted firmly on his chest you sat up, getting yourself in just the right position before preparing for the ride of your life.

The slick between your legs made it easy to grind down on him, bringing out low guttural moans from Sam beneath you. “God, are you always this wet?”

“No” you smiled coyly down at him, “this is just for you”.

It didn’t take long for either of you to reach the metaphorical edge again. Though you were breathing heavily and sweat was beginning to glisten your skin, it felt like no work at all to get there. Because it had never been this easy with anyone else before.

Sam’s grip on your thighs tightened, and you felt him throbbing inside just before the flooding of warmth that invaded all your senses and sent you toppling over as well. You kept gliding your hips, begging for every last drop until Sam was a whimpering mess and you were both boarding overstimulation.

When you lifted off, Sam watched with hooded eyes as his release slowly dripped from you. A sight he’d secretly dreamed of in more than one of those late lonely nights alone on the bus as the swaying of the frame against the wheels lulled him to sleep.

“Better?” He teased, taking too much enjoyment from picking on you. You welcomed it though. You and Sam were always head to head when it came to teasing each other and it was comforting to know that in your quickly developing relationship at least that hadn’t changed.

You weren’t willing to back down either, even if Sam had just given you everything you ever could have wanted. “No not yet, I’m starving now”.

With legs that felt like jello, you climbed off him, picking up his thin flannel from the floor and slipping it over your frame. The buttons were crooked, but you didn’t care since you were only bothering with three of them anyways. Just enough to cover your chest and the rest was left hanging open as you found your underwear next.

You left Sam to decide how dressed he wanted to get and you wandered your way through the cabin, taking in the old photos framed on the wall of a family you were unfamiliar with yet felt oddly connected to.

Once you found the kitchen again you noticed that it was still a mess from the party. Apparently after all the commotion of that night no one had the time to come back up here and clean up. You tucked your hair behind your ears and found a large black trash bag from underneath the sink to start collecting things to throw away, emptying out leftover cups in the sink as you went.

Before long, a pair of arms circled around you from behind making you jump in surprise. Sam had never been that quiet before, you could usually hear his bare feet slapping against the floor from a distance, but he’d managed to catch you off guard this time.

“You don’t have to do that. Jake and I were going to clean up tomorrow”.

“I don’t mind” you replied, leaning over your shoulder to peck him on the cheek. “It’s the least I can do for them letting us borrow the place for the night”.

“Well, while you do that I’ll see what I can find for us to snack on”. Sam moved over to the fridge, pulling it open to see it was practically bare besides some beers that hadn’t been claimed at the party, a pitcher of purified water that was nearly empty, and an opened container of Halloween themed cupcakes.

“Hmm, Jake could have mentioned we should stop by the grocery store” he huffed as he pulled the cupcake box out and set it on the island you had cleared off.

“Think we can get pizza delivered?” You chuckled, though you were still eyeing a particular cupcake that looked really good right about now. Setting the half full bag aside, you joined Sam at the other end of the island, knowingly reaching over in a way that he could see down the shirt.

“Maybe…” he trailed off, not even hiding the way he was revenging your body with his eyes, then he leaned back to get a look at your ass peeking out from under the flannel, clad in nothing but your panties. “You’re going to have to hide when I answer the door though. Can’t let anyone else get to see you like this now can I?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think about it for a moment as you used your pointer finger to gather some of the cold frosting from your cupcake, and popped it into your mouth. “What about you?”

Sam had only pulled his boxers back on, the rest of his body still bare for you to ogle at as much as you wanted now that he was yours. You came around to where he stood, wrapping your arms around him and kissing at his back.

“Sammy?” You pulled away, the flirtatious tone in your voice fading into something more concerned. “Baby think you’re running a fever”.

“Really?” He started to realize you had mentioned more than just a few times how warm he felt to your touch, but he hadn’t noticed himself. There was something different though, and his brows furrowed as he tried to figure out exactly what it was.

“Do you think your wound got infected? Do you ache anywhere” you let your hands brush across his back, a small part of you a little worried about having spiked his fever by having sex.

“No, physically I feel fine, but something else is off. I don’t know, it's like my mind is fogged or something. Maybe I could just use some air”.

Trying not to worry too much you stepped aside and let him make his way out to the back porch, keeping an eye on him through the windows. After deciding he wasn’t about to suddenly drop dead or anything, you turned to look for anything in the kitchen you thought might help.

In the fridge you filled the water purifier back up to the top then moved on to rummaging through the cabinets. Most of them were filled with mix matched plates, mugs, and cooking equipment for camping, but finally in the last cabinet you checked there happened to be a box of camomile tea that had expired a couple of months ago, but you figured it couldn’t do more harm than good.

You microwaved some water in a random mug and set the tea bag inside to let it steep for a few minutes, closing up the cupcake box and putting it back away in the meantime.

Next to the door there was a set of light switches. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the tree line by now so you flicked the first switch on, it was for the living room. Leaving that one on for now you moved to the next. Sam glanced over his shoulder when an overhead light came on outside, and you joined him with his tea.

“Thanks” he smiled and took a sip before turning back around to stare up at the sky some more.

“It’s freezing out here” you shivered, wrapping your arms around your barely clothed body, but you didn’t want to leave him out here alone any longer.

“Come here” he reached his hand out, and you took it, allowing him to pull you in front of him so he could drape his chest against your back. You were immediately enveloped in his warmth, and you leaned back against him with a sigh.

The scenery was quaint but beautiful nonetheless. Behind you the sun cast its last reach of light as it set to the west, and before you the darkness of night crept closer. Birds still flew in the sky above the treetops, and remnants of the bonfire from the party rest in the distance.

Your eyes braved a glance in the direction Sam had disappeared to that night right after your fight. Feeling weary you grabbed his arm and wrapped it tighter around you, hoping the squeeze would keep reminding you that he was right here, safe. “I still can’t believe there was a bear out there. What if it had come out into the yard?”

Sam tensed behind you and you immediately regret bringing it up. Neither of you had talked about the incident since it happened, both a little too preoccupied with starting to date and since he had healed so well it kind of faded away into the background.

“It wasn’t a bear” Sam muttered, just barely loud enough that you could only hear it since you were so close. You turned your head up towards him, confused as this was the first time you were hearing him say anything at all about it. “Wolf,” he continued, his eyes still fixed on the moon hanging above your heads. “It was a wolf”.

“A wolf?!” You exclaimed, unable to sort out in your mind which was worse. How had he been able to survive a wolf attack? And what kind of wolves went around scratching people in the neck?

“I don’t really remember what happened. One second I was walking through the trees, I actually thought you had followed me because I heard something behind me, but when I turned around it must’ve attacked me. I think I blacked out from the trauma, and when I came to I was leaning against Danny and you were crying”.

A pang of guilt shot through you again, and tears threatened to spill at the thought of Sam thinking you had come after him only to get attacked by an animal… You turned around in his hold, cupping his face in your cold hands, gingerly holding his attention. “I’m so sorry I let that happen. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I want to keep you safe, always”.

“Nothing that happened is your fault” Sam quickly eased you even though you were the one supposed to be consoling him. “If anything, I’m glad it happened so that we could come together like this. I feel like something is changing in me, and I’m really glad I have you to lean on”.

Something changing? You hadn’t realized the event had made such an impact on him mentally, but you had to agree you were glad he knew you were here if he needed anything at all. Taking his mug from him, you squat down to place it on the ground out of harm's way, and slowly as you raised back up you planted soft little kisses along his body.

Firstly one on each thigh, then on the lowest bit of his stomach just above the waistband of his boxers. One to his sternum, then a pair for both sides of his clavicle, and lastly as gentle as you possibly could you placed a tender kiss to his scarred neck.

When you were done Sam pulled you into a swift kiss. The feeling of his lips slotting against yours, his warm body pressing you up against the beams of the banister, it was enough to melt away your worries.

Sam lifted you onto the banister next, and you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall backwards even though you knew he would never allow that to happen. His lips moved to your neck, leaving a new love bite next to the one from earlier, and with what sounded like a low growl he ripped the buttons off his shirt to expose your chest to him.

“Sam!” You gasped, hearing the tiny plastic pieces bounce around somewhere on the porch before ultimately disappearing. “Again?”

“Again” he growled once more, reaching between your bodies to slip his hand into your underwear.

You sighed into the touch. Normally you wouldn’t be ready for another round so soon, but as his fingers found your clit you were already starting to pool with need.

When you whimpered his name again, Sam pulled his boxers down and moved your underwear to the side, just fast enough for him to enter you in one fluid movement. You bit your lip trying to muffle your cries of pleasure, considering you were on the back porch, but Sam wasn’t about to have that.

“There’s no one out here for miles, you can be as loud as you want”.

One of your hands left Sam’s shoulder and you reached up to gather some of his hair at the back of his head into your fist, giving it a hard tug. “Only if you are loud too”.

Sam’s reaction to the hair pull was just as you hoped. He picked up the pace, his actions becoming rushed and sloppy but that didn’t stop the fire from being igniting between you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuck” he did moan loudly, waiting for you to pull again. When you did his hips stuttered and he let out another low growl. “I’m cumming”.

“Me to” you pulled his hair once more but this time to get him closer so you could crash your lips together, your shared climaxes washing over you as the last traces of light disappeared behind the cabin.

“Have you always had that much stamina?” You questioned between bites of the pizza Sam successfully ordered while you were getting cleaned up in the shower. You had met every one of Sam’s girlfriends in the past. Some you liked, some you thought he was absolutely insane for putting up with, and he had met all of your exs as well. Though the two of you never really talked about sex stuff before. Probably for good reason, because if you had known you two were going to be such a good match physically as well, then this likely would have happened a lot sooner.

“I’ve never been a one-pump-chump if that’s what you’re asking” Sam replied as he chewed a large bite.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth you animal” you poked his still bare chest, though after showering himself he had opted to at least put on some sweats for comfort.

“You asked me a question” he shrugged, tearing off another bite, unbothered.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, finishing your plate and offering to grab him another random beer from the fridge while you were up.

After dinner Sam put a movie on and you sat next to him on the tiny couch in the living room, your legs stretched out over his lap and your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m going to be sad when you have to leave again” you muttered, not having been able to pay attention to the old flick he found on one of the few channels the TV got reception to way out here.

Sam squeezed your waist for comfort, “I know, maybe you can come with us for a while? Take a semester off?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “that will only delay my graduation. I don’t want to be in school for any longer than I need to”.

“That’s alright, we will make it work. Everyone else does”.

“Right” you agreed, trying not to pick at your cuticles out of habit. You knew Sam would do anything for you, and you him, but you couldn’t help but feel like the worst of your struggles were not yet behind you.

Sam reached for the remote and clicked off the TV, offering to carry you to bed which you adamantly declined but that only resulted in him chasing you down the hallway in a fit of laughter.

“I know this has all sort of changed rather quickly” Sam mumbled quietly in the dark of the bedroom, both of you holding each other close underneath the quilt.

“Yeah? I don’t think so” you smiled. Really you got where he was coming from, but when it came down to it you knew these feelings had always been there and you and Sam had already been so close before. “I mean, this is kind of new” you let your hand trail down his chest, tickling the light dusting of hair above his groin.

“Mmm, you sure you’re ready to go there again?” Sam cocked a brow as if challenging you to test your luck further.

You retreated your hand, tucking it back against his chest as you turned onto your side. “Maybe in the morning”.

“Morning, right” Sam nodded his head, yeah he could work with that. “What I meant to get at was, I don’t want you to think I’m being ingenuine when I say things. It’s just I think I’ve felt this way for a long time, and now that I can be honest with myself about it I can’t help but need you to know”.

“Know what Sam?” your voice fell into a hush again, feeling the atmosphere shift from friendly banter, to something more intense and sincere.

He turned onto his side as well, wanting to look you directly in the eyes. “I love you”.

You felt your heart thump fiercely in your chest, your love for him having manifested itself there for longer than you could even remember, and you knew there was nothing left for you to do but to simply say it back. “I love you too Sam”.

In the morning you shared leftover pizza, just passing the time by enjoying each other's company. Really enjoying each other's company. It was going to be a miracle if you were able to walk straight by the time you left this cabin.

Shortly after the noon hour, a knock finally came at the door, bringing you and Sam out of yet another heated make out session on the couch as a random record from a forgotten stack you’d found in the closet of one of the other bedrooms spun on the player in the background.

“Jake” Sam nodded when he answered the door after you ducked into the room to find some more appropriate clothing options to put on.

“Sammy” Jake nodded back, a knowing smirk planted across his face as he stepped inside.

“Hey!” You greeted them a little too enthusiastically, trying not to sound like they had interrupted anything at all. They greeted you back and you watched as Jake and his girlfriend filled in, but in tow behind them was someone neither you or Sam recognized.

“Oh, so this is my older brother Theo” Jake’s girlfriend introduced the unknown man.

Sam stepped up first, offering his hand to shake and introduce himself back, then wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “And this is my girlfriend”.

“Stop, please” you groaned dramatically, pushing him away and introducing yourself.

Theo seemed distant during the entire interaction, and you didn’t quite understand why he was here if he hadn’t even met Sam yet. Jake seemed comfortable with him though, and you trusted his opinion of people so you didn’t bother to read into it too much.

“Right, so should we get to cleaning up then?” Jake’s girlfriend suggested, grabbing her boyfriend by the arm and pulling him into the kitchen where she was pleased to see that you had already started to pick up all the trash.

“I’m going to go put a shirt on” Sam informed you, leaving you with a kiss to the top of your head as he left for the bedroom.

Grabbing another trash bag from the kitchen you let Jake and his girlfriend know you’re going to start in the backyard, remembering from yesterday having seen quite a bit of trash still out there.

“Hey, I think you might want to come back in here” Jake held the back door open as he called out to you. He wore a look of uneasiness as you approached the porch, and you abandoned the bag of garbage to see what was the matter.

Once back inside you saw Sam, flustered out of his mind as he tore through drawers and cabinets all while mumbling frantically to himself “where are they?”

“What is it?” You asked, approaching him slowly since he was running around madly.

“Fuck!” He shouted loudly, almost completely ignoring you as he stopped in the middle of the kitchen to think for a second. As if he suddenly remembered something, he ran back down the hallway and into another bedroom, finally returning with a crumpled pack of cigarettes and pushed his way past all the staring eyes to go out onto the back porch.

“What happened?” You turned back to Jake. You had never seen Sam act that way before, so whatever it was that got him so riled up definitely terrified you.

“Don’t know, he was in the bedroom for a while then just came bursting out like a lunatic” Jake replied, wishing himself that you could answer the question for him.

“I’m going to go check on him”. You pulled on a convincing smile, trying to give Jake a bit of peace of mind when in reality you were worried about what you might uncover when you stepped back outside.

Sam was hunched over the banister, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers, the smoke blowing towards you with the wind. “Baby?” You called out to him in your sweetest most tender voice. He ignored you but he wasn’t acting crazed anymore, you noticed though as he brought the cigarette slowly to his mouth for another drag that his hands were trembling uncontrollably. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know” Sam finally replied as he blew out the smoke, taking another long pull from the butt before slumping back over.

“Talk to me Sam” you stepped up next to him, attempting to place a comforting hand on his shoulder that he flinched away from. “You’re scaring me”.

“I don’t know if I can say” he looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot like he was about to burst into tears. What could be bothering him so badly that he felt like he couldn’t talk to you about it? “I don’t think you’ll believe me”.

“Don’t you remember what you told me last night? That the things you say are genuine? Well I believed you then, why wouldn’t I believe you now?”

Sam huffed, shaking his head like you just didn’t understand. “That was different. This is…” he trailed off, taking the last drag before pressing the cigarette out against the rotting wood. Suddenly he turned to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “You promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

You smoothed the back of Sam’s hair with your hand, your other arm coming around to hold him steady. “I mean everyone already thinks that but we still love you” you teased lightly, trying to bring some normality back in the conversation.

He lifted his head and took your hand, guiding you over to a pair of wooden rocking chairs on the other end of the porch. When you both sat down you kept his hand in your own, cradling it there for support as he gathered how to tell you what was wrong.

“It’s umm, Theo” he began and your back straightened out a little. You knew you had gotten a vibe from him when he entered with everyone else, like a dark cloud had followed them, but you never would have expected him and Sam to get into it like this. “He came into the bedroom and told me we needed to talk. It was weird. I knew Jake’s girlfriend had a brother but he was never around so I don’t really know him, but I agreed anyways”.

“Ok?” Your mind was racing with all the possibilities of what they could have talked about, everyone staying at his family’s cabin, maybe money, but nothing would have prepared for what Sam was about to unveil.

“He told me that he was here last week, and when he heard that I was the one who had been attacked that night in the woods, he had to come and warn me”

“What?” If he was at the party then why hadn’t any of you met him then?

Sam’s free hand came up and he timidly touched the scar now adorning his neck, and if you weren’t sure that it was absolutely impossible you could have started to put two and two together yourself. It was impossible though. Just a scary story to keep people out of the woods at night. An urban legend made up to blame the way people acted on the cycles of a big rock in the sky. So you sat quietly and let him continue.

“I didn’t believe him at first, but then he lifted his shirt and on his side I saw he had the same scar as I did. The scar he got three years ago when he was out here fishing alone, something followed him back from the lake, and when he tried to fight it off he got scratched, by a large wolf”.

A wolf… You tried again to imagine how it must’ve happened, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around it entirely. “So what does this all mean Sam? What was he trying to warn you about?”

There was a moment of silence as he gathered the courage to answer, his mouth opened and he pulled in a deep breath of air, but the words couldn’t come out whole. “On the next full moon, I’m- I’m going to… change”.

“Change?” You repeated, trying to finish the sentence for him “into a wolf?”

Sam cringed, pulling his hand away from you and leaning back into the chair. “You think it’s crazy don’t you”.

“I think you’ve both been through something traumatic, and you haven’t really talked with anyone about it…”

“I haven’t talked to anyone because I’ve had this weird nagging feeling like something is wrong since it happened. I thought maybe it was those antibiotics the doctors sent me home with so I stopped taking them”.

“Sam” you gave him a disappointed look, but didn’t have the heart to truly scold him right now. “You could have talked to me, could have told me”.

“I know,” he sighed, “and I should have, but everything was going so well between us. I was so happy, I didn’t want to spoil anything”.

It was hard for you to hear that he had been keeping this from you, especially because you thought you had been doing such a good job at taking care of him. The guilt you felt still had yet to subside though, so you didn’t fault him for not wanting to make it worse. If anything you did blame yourself some more for not noticing something was wrong. Then it hit you, “so every time I touched you, and you were so warm…”. It certainly was crazy to believe him, but for some reason you did, it made sense even if just a little bit and that was enough for you to stand by him.

Sam looked relieved that you somehow seemed to be seriously considering this outlandish tale to be true, but it unnerved him the same. “What am I going to do? What’s going to happen to me? I don’t even know who I can tell… even if my brothers and Danny do believe me too, what about the band? We play shows at night, I can’t very well come out on the stage on all fours”.

These were all valid questions for Sam to have, but honestly you didn’t even know where to begin to find the answers. The only thing you knew was Sam meant the world to you and you needed to make sure he knew you were always going to be there for him. So you gathered your resolve and stood, pulling on a supporting smile. “Let’s start with Jake first, he’s really worried about you. After, we still have three weeks to figure everything out right? Until the next full moon?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, and he raised to take your hand again allowing you to guide him back into the cabin where surly, he would be received with all the love and acceptance he needed.

#greta van fic #Greta van fleet #Sam Kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #gvf #Greta van smut

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veevz-drawz · 5 months ago

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DoaHD | Entry 3: I Learned About My Grandma From Her Former Drinking Buddy

A/N: okay so i lied again about uploading biweekly LMAO, i think with how things are going its probably going to be monthly updates, mainly because it takes me a long ass time to do the illustrations;; (I literally spent 2 days trying to nail strawberry butler's design T-T)

Taglist: @minecraftninjerkid (DM if you would like to be added!)

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“Let’s see…” Strawberry Mousse Cookie muttered, reading over the packing list once more. “Clothes, sewing machine, sewing materials…” She walked across the hallway of suitcases lined up in the foyer, tapping each fruit leather-bound case that contained their respective items. “Oh! Don’t forget that bottle of premium grade strawberry juice for Her Majesty!” She pointed towards the grenadine juice bottle that was sitting on a nearby table.

“I got all of that,” Strawberry Tea Cookie confirmed.

“Are you sure?” Her mother fretted. “Why don’t we double check.” She unlocked one of the bigger cases, rummaging through the neatly packed contents while cross-referencing her list.

“You already quadruple checked everything,” Strawberry Tea Cookie reassured, shooing her away from the suitcase and shutting it before signaling for the servants to carry them out. “You don’t need to worry so much.”

“I know, I know,” Strawberry Mousse Cookie sighed, “But you know me…” She walked up to Strawberry Tea Cookie, cupping her cheeks. “I can’t help but always worry about my little berry blossom.”

“There’s nothing you need to be concerned about,” the designer removed her mother’s hands, holding them in her own. “I’ve traveled further before.”

“It’s not that…” Strawberry Mousse Cookie paused, contemplating her words for a moment before shaking her head. “Nevermind.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie pulled her lips taut across her face, concealing the urge to demand her mother to speak her mind. The words swelled from the back of her throat, trying to pry her mouth open so they could be set free. But she restrained herself— arguing will only further damage her standing.

It’s not like she didn’t know what her mother was about to say, anyways.

“Lady Strawberry Tea Cookie, the carriage is almost ready for your departure,” Strawberry Butler Cookie announced, bowing before stepping to the side of the manor’s grand doors.

Strawberry Tea Cookie grabbed the bottle of strawberry juice and made her way to the forecourt with her mother. Her father was outside as well, overseeing the servants securing her mountain of suitcases to the proportionally— and comically— small carriage.

“Ohh, I’m going to miss you so much!” Strawberry Mousse Cookie cried, tightly wrapping her arms around Strawberry Tea Cookie. “The estate is always so empty when you’re not around…”

“But I rarely leave my room,” Strawberry Tea Cookie chuckled in disbelief. “I doubt you notice I’m even here when I’m home.”

Not to mention how Peach Jam Cookie and Strawberry Sugar Cookie seemed to make it their mission to constantly occupy her mother’s attention when possible.

“But I know you’re home,” Strawberry Mousse Cookie clarified sadly. “I know you’re safe within Strawberry Mansion.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie didn’t comment further, opting to give a small— albeit forced— smile.

“Your mother is correct,” Roasted Oolong Cookie placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, obscuring his face from Strawberry Tea Cookie’s gaze. “We’ll miss you.”

The designer silently wrapped her arms around her parents, pulling them closer. She felt a sense of reluctance rise within her stomach, bubbling up like the concoction of activated yeast Strawberry Butler Cookie used when baking bread. It slowly seeped into the threads of excitement that came from leaving Strawberry Manor and this kingdom— staining them pink with forlorn. “I’ll miss you both too…”

Yet Strawberry Tea Cookie wasn’t all too sure if what she was feeling was truly the hesitation of parting with her parents, or rather the thought of leaving them alone with her relatives for two months. While she doesn’t often contribute to their social gatherings, she would at least like to be present in the household to keep tabs on those peachy parasites.

She reluctantly let go of her parents upon hearing Strawberry Butler Cookie call her name, slowly walking towards the carriage with her parents trailing behind.

“I shall be back before you know it,” Strawberry Tea Cookie assured, facing them as she took a preliminary step into her ride. Yet before she could fully enter, she felt a warm hand grasping her own.

“Berry bloss—“ Strawberry Mousse Cookie cut herself off, taking a deep breath. “Strawberry Tea Cookie, please know that we still love you very much.”

—That was not what she was expecting.

The former heiress turned back to see the raw remorse painted on her mother’s face, her eyes that usually displayed nothing but kindness and unyielding patience now glossed over with absolute grief. The tears threatening to spill over made her pupils shine a vivid burgundy under the sun’s zenith, a stark contrast to the way Strawberry Tea Cookie felt all her color drain into the vivacious blue sky the more she internalized her mother’s expression.

“I… know.” Strawberry Tea Cookie sighed, battling with her own conflicting feelings. Perhaps she will miss her parents more than she thought— even after everything that has transpired. She broke eye contact, glancing away only to meet the triumphant carmine gaze of Strawberry Sugar Cookie, now standing by the mansion’s doors.

The new heir smirked when he realized her attention was on him, sticking his tongue out while pulling his frosted lower lash downwards— an immature display of victory. If it weren’t for the circumstances and their literal distance, she would’ve stitched his face shut with her magic like she did a while back.

But she digressed.

“I love you too.” The designer continued, turning her focus back on her parents. Strawberry Mousse Cookie let go of her hand and backed away with her husband, allowing Strawberry Tea Cookie to fully climb into the carriage and shut the door. She glanced out the window, giving them a small wave goodbye as her ride began to move.

And I’ll make sure to show how much I love you and House Strawberry.

Strawberry Tea Cookie was in immediate awe of the sight before her, stepping out of the carriage to face the airship towering over Hollyberry Palace.

It reminded her of those grandiose blimps broadcasting Super Fashion Week when she attended all those years back, except this one was miniature compared to the former’s size. The elliptical balloon, which had a large blue banner donning the Crème Republic’s insignia draped over it, was perched on a wide bronze ring that held up a brig ship comparable to its size. The boat was equipped with a large propeller located at its stern. Two fan-like sails flanked the rudder, obscuring the circular engine exhausts that radiated a hypnotizing blue light. It was a perfect combination of modernity and antiquity– all gilded in a sleek coat of white and gold.

Cookies wearing cream colored uniforms hurried to unload the designer’s luggage onto some nearby carts. Strawberry Butler Cookie took charge in instructing the ship’s staff on how it should be organized, pointing to where each suitcase should be placed as they were lifted— much to the handlers’ annoyance.

“Ah, I’m so glad you could join us, Young Strawberry Tea Cookie!” Hollyberry Cookie beamed, her words nearly drowned out by the engine’s incessant humming.

“Thank you once again for permitting me to join you on this trip, your Majesty.” Strawberry Tea Cookie said as she turned around, meeting Hollyberry Cookie with a bow before presenting her with the bottle of strawberry juice. “My family has prepared this for you as a show of gratitude.”

“Oh there’s no need to be so formal with me,” the former queen laughed. “But I will be taking this, thank you very much.” She swipes the bottle from Strawberry Tea Cookie’s hands, immediately popping the cork open and taking a swig of the sweet liquid.

Ah, so the rumors hold true. That bottle had twice the amount of sugar that normal strawberry juice has…

“Now c’mon, we must make haste!” She beckoned, a foot already on the boarding ramp. “The ship will be departing soon!”

Strawberry Tea Cookie turned back to check on her butler, who was now arguing with the staff about a fallen case. Thankfully there was nothing too important in that one, just some muslin and thread. Strawberry Butler Cookie’s exasperated eyes met her concerned ones, but he only let out a huff and beckoned her to board the ship with a hurried shoo-ing motion, too occupied with fixing this mess.

The cabinet inside was simple yet elegant, perfectly matching the exterior’s aesthetic motif. A U-shaped couch occupied the perimeter of the space, upholstered with smooth fruit leather that was bleached to a creamy caramel. Silk cushions topped the couch like a dollop of cream on some freshly baked scones, reflective of the ones plated on top of the small, hardwood coffee table situated in the center. Next to the plate of complimentary pastries was a simple ceramic teapot with four cups surrounding it, one of which was already turned upright and filled with a familiar red liquid.

“Did you really have to bring Her Majesty more juice,” Wildberry Cookie questioned as Strawberry Tea Cookie took her seat beside him.

“I did say I would gift her the finest juice my house could offer,” she replied with a shrug, flipping over the remaining cups and pouring out some tea. A dry, aromatic scent filled the designer’s nostrils, with subtle hints of bergamot tingling her senses—earl gray— not her favorite, but she enjoyed it more than the popular fruit teas within the Hollyberry Kingdom.

“Oh don’t be such a sour berry, let me enjoy a gift from my good friend’s granddaughter.” Hollyberry Cookie huffed, taking another sip seemingly out of spite. She let out a sigh of satisfaction, raising the bottle up in the air. “This must be your grandmother’s recipe, am I correct?”

The designer nods. “My mother told me you were quite fond of her juice recipe, so I took that into consideration when picking a bottle from our collection.” She reached over to point at the wax seal melted to the sugar glass. The seal held the shape of two ovalish berries coming together in the shape of a heart, bordered by sharp leaves. “She personally made this bottle.”

“Well I’m honored to receive such a fine gift~.” Hollyberry Cookie smiled, she settled the bottle on the table and re-corked it. “Of all the delectable juices offered in the Hollyberry Kingdom, none can truly beat the flavor of Ol’ Goji Berry Cookie’s recipe.”

The door suddenly slams open and an irritated looking Strawberry Butler Cookie stomps in. “Almighty Greenish-Red Dragon, is it so hard to put away a few luggages?” He slumped next to Strawberry Tea Cookie, running a hand through his creamy pink hair before looping downwards to massage his sore shoulder. “I swear the crew purposely did the exact opposite of what I told them to do!”

The designer gave him a sympathetic look, nudging a cup of tea towards him. “Regardless, you have my gratitude for overseeing them.”

“You have very important things in there,” Strawberry Butler Cookie replied before nudging her playfully. “I still remember the fit you threw when Lord Strawberry Sugar Cookie got paint on your dress.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie scoffed and rolled her eyes in the same lighthearted manner as her butler. “Well he shouldn’t have entered my studio without permission in the first place.”

But perhaps stringing him to the wall was too far…

Pierce the fabric, loop the—

The fashion student flinched as her studio door swung open, her mind momentarily going blank as her focus was drawn away from the thread she was attempting to control.

“Cousin, are you in here?” A shrill voice called out.

Strawberry Tea Cookie let out an audible huff of frustration before turning to glare at whoever dared to interrupt her magic practice.

There stood Strawberry Sugar Cookie—of course—in all his wide-eyed glory. Blotches of paint covered his sunrise orange hair, matting the usually wispy, cotton candy-esque consistency. The paint brush that was usually weaved into the back of his head was now tucked to the side, smearing colored frosting onto his forehead– if he even noticed. His clothes, which were far from a simple painter’s attire, were also caked with multicolored pigments.

Disheveled, disorganized, and disruptive—as expected from the son of a rotten peach.

“This better be important,” Strawberry Tea Cookie sighed. It took her nearly an hour to gain enough control of that thread, let alone begin maneuvering it like she would sewing by hand.

“I-I just want to see what you are doing…” Strawberry Sugar Cookie briefly glanced back into the hallway before facing her. “Can I come in?”

“No.” The heiress immediately answered. Yet he didn’t heed her refusal, stepping into her sacred space without a care in the world.

“C’mon, just for a little bit..?” He pleaded. “Mother…”

Strawberry Tea Cookie ignored the rest of her cousin’s words, only focusing on the way he carelessly brushed against her mannequins to get closer. Luckily the paint on his clothes seemed to be dry, as the muslin sample pieces remained pristinely clean— good, those were due in a few days.

Yet fate wanted to punish the novice designer for even conceptualizing such a thought, it seemed, because a split moment later Strawberry Sugar Cookie let out a sharp yelp before toppling over.

An explosion of paint littered the lacquer floor and its surroundings. Strawberry Tea Cookie didn’t pay attention to her cousin getting up as if he had been revived from a brutal stabbing, instead scanning the room for the damage he caused. Thankfully, only the base of her mannequins were hit, but the same couldn’t be said about her dress. She watched silently as the paint’s inky pigment seeped through each delicately woven thread, much like her growing anger.

Condensed energy flowed throughout Strawberry Tea Cookie’s jam, concentrating at her hands like dense ink settling to the bottom of a water cup. Without even registering it, her cousin was suddenly flung to the wall, the motion splattering more paint across her studio.

Rubine threads held him to the ornate silken wallpaper, his clothes seemingly fused with the wall through the border of hot red.

“What did I say about not coming in!?” The heiress hissed, tightening her fist, which pulled a fear stricken Strawberry Sugar Cookie tighter against the wall. “Mother gave me this dress and you just ruined it!”

Ah. That was quite cruel, wasn’t it.

“Hey, we all had a good laugh in the end,” Strawberry Butler Cookie chuckled, sensing Strawberry Tea Cookie’s shifting emotions. “Plus, you finally gained control of your stitchwork magic.”

“I…” Strawberry Tea Cookie withdrew a breath, thinking back to her cousin’s terrified expression. “Suppose so…”

Yes, that was beyond too far.

The ship began to rumble. The designer glanced out the window, her stomach dropping as they ascended, watching as Hollyberry Palace got smaller and smaller. The grandiose, sugar-glazed domes became nothing but small specks of bright maroon—it was hard to imagine that the same structure defended against attacks from the Pitaya Dragon up north.

Strawberry Tea Cookie felt this strange sense of pressure overcome her as her home disappeared into the endless sea of clouds, one that not even the rising altitude could alleviate. Traveling had always been a source of leisure for her, gaining inspiration was just a natural byproduct of her exploring a new area.

But this time… She had to find inspiration.

Perhaps her aunt was—unfortunately—right. Hollyberry Fashion Week had become a competition.

“Say, Strawberry Tea Cookie, do you know how I met your grandmother?” Hollyberry Cookie asked out of the blue—or orange, considering that the sun was about to set.

The designer glanced up from her cookie-quis sketches and shook her head. Her memories of her grandmother were like wisps of delicate candy floss, dancing through her consciousness in the vague shape of a cookie. Sometimes, she could weave those bits of sugary thread into a condensed recollection, but they quickly dissolved as if a single drop of water tore through the very fabric of her mind. If she was told about how they met, she had long since forgotten.

“Well let’s just say I never met a cookie who could take as much juice as me until I met good Ol’ Goji Berry Cookie~.” She laughed, sighing fondly as she leaned into the couch cushions.

During a palace gala, Hollyberry Cookie was minding her own business when a young cookie, short in stature and with a head full of flame red curls, marched up and challenged her to a drinking contest.

Yet never once did it actually feel like a competition. They talked for hours on end by that little juice table, paying no mind as guests left and the palace staff began cleaning around them. Their conversations flowed from glass to glass, each pour of finely aged juice reaching deeper into each other’s dreams and aspirations.

“If there was one word to describe your grandmother, it was ambitious.” Hollyberry Cookie cackled. She lifted her iconic pie-lattice shield onto the table, causing a loud impact that trembled the delicate dishware. The heart-shaped gemstone emanated a brilliant pink aura, reflecting specks of rainbow light through the endless layers of condensed sugar crystals. “I lost count of the times I told her she deserved this shield more than me~.”

That night, Hollyberry Cookie learned that Goji Berry Cookie came from the Isle of Tea, coming to the Hollyberry Kingdom in hopes of building a better life for her family. While she was a very business-savvy cookie, her true passion lies in the arts. Whatever spare coin she received from trading goods were all poured into the works of her favorite Hollyberrian artists. As her worth grew, so did the guild of creators she supported, to the point where Goji Berry Cookie’s name became more synonymous with art than with business—but Strawberry Tea Cookie already knew all that.

“It was… a shame that she passed when you were so young,” Hollyberry Cookie sighed, taking a sip of juice from her cup. “She always talked so fondly of you.”

Strawberry Tea Cookie felt her heart stall momentarily. This she didn’t know. “She did..?”

“You bet my soul jam she did~,” the shield-bearer confirmed, her tone both happy and solemn—bittersweet. “She told me your drawings had this… rare liveliness to them.”

Rare liveliness..? She wouldn’t describe her old scribbles like that.

“Haha, oh! And she said the moment you drew your first line, she knew you would grow up to be a master artist.” Hollyberry Cookie recalled joyously. “And look at you now, she would have been so proud of you!”

Look at me now…

Strawberry Tea Cookie doubts her grandmother would have been proud of who she became. Sure, a master at her craft, but so selfish that she handed over the family name—destroying everything her grandmother had sacrificed to build. However, that didn’t stop a bittersweet smile of her own from lifting up to her lips, glad that her grandmother saw so much potential in her.

Truly a shame that she squandered it all.

“You have the same eyes as her, you know,” Her Majesty continued. “And even the exact same fiery spark as well,” she flashed her a brilliant smile, one filled with pride as if looking at her own granddaughter. It was infectious, and Strawberry Tea Cookie could feel the bitterness melting from her smile until nothing but confectionate sweetness remained. “Never lose it.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.” Strawberry Tea Cookie nodded, not knowing what else to say, but she kept her doubts sealed away. That spark had long since burned out, extinguished into nothing but ashen exhaustion that she projects onto other cookies—nothing like her grandmother’s time-told generosity.

She glanced down at her sketches, which were more consistent with aimless scribbles than actual cohesive figures. Cookie models were marred with urgent marks, illegible notes pointing out design flaws, or just scratches of frustration. She couldn’t help but feel more exhausted just looking at the mess.

Yet Hollyberry Cookie’s words instilled a new sense of determination within the young designer, and she found the energy to turn to a new page. Placing her pencil to the paper, she began outlining the shape of a new cookie.

There’s about another six hours to this trip, that’s plenty of time to come up with something fresh.

#cookie run kingdom #strawberry tea cookie #cookie run oc #cookie run #oc #diary of a hollyberry designer #hollyberry cookie #fanfic

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