#have to get back to the everything soon though

[yeyinde]

psychic!Reader being relentlessly stalked and terrorised by dead!Ghost.

He's not sure how he died, but considering the aura he has wrapped around him, it was vicious and violent. And while you're no stranger to helping the dead cross over when they need it, but he can't. Or won't. Everything you try doesn't work, and he soon decides that he's fine with that.

Prefers, instead, to follow you around. And at first, it's fine. He explores the world around him—intangible, untouchable—and asks snarky questions about why you're the only the one who can see him. How this came to be. But then he grows bored. Restless. Shifts into bad jokes. Taunts.

Finds the most amusement, though, in muttering in your ear about all the filthy things he'd do to you if he had his body back—in broad daylight, no less. All explicit, ugly things about testing your flexibility. Bending your knees to your ears. Getting that pretty little mouth on his cock—

Watches you shower. Drawls about having you put on a show for him. Slides into the bed with you when he can manipulate and solidify his form better. Icycold hands against your breasts. Squeezing your ass.

Most ghosts continue with their routine. Go on with their lives. Cogs in the machine. But he spends his time messing with you.

The problem, however, is that ghosts can only do much to interact with the physical world. Knocking things over. Stomping their feet down the halls. Saying a word. A name. A whisper. Cold air. Static. A slamming door.

But Simon's pinches hurt. His hand sometimes feels warm when he cups your beasts, or curls his palm over the nape of your neck, pulling you toward his groin only to huff when your face slips through it.

"not there yet, are we?" he drawls, but holds you there anyway just because he can.

Sometimes you have to remind yourself he's a ghost. A spectre. He can't really hurt you.

But when he nuzzles his face into your neck, and bites down so hard it burns, you find yourself unable to explain the raw, bloodied imprint of his teeth there the next morning. Or how warm, how solid, his body feels when he pulls you against his chest, hands groping at you as he stares at the mark he left with something primal twisting across his once pellucid face. Darkening with malintent. Desire.

Maybe you should have taken his threats a little more seriously after all.

[nottsangel]

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing

word count: 4k

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

the purge au… moodboard. nav. more.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”

“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere. 

Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing. 

“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night. 

Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.

Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was. 

The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn. 

“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house. 

“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?

With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening. 

On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.

“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven. 

“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty. 

“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever? 

You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass. 

“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch. 

“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or…  we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face. 

“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”

His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them. 

It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims. 

When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.

“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch? 

“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.

Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster. 

You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place. 

“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.

“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.” 

Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would. 

“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot. 

The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear. 

Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...” 

The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear. 

“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew? 

He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.

A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit. 

“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch. 

“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck. 

From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it. 

“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.

And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.

“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside. 

“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.

“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you. 

“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not. 

“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask. 

He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.

“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin. 

“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious. 

“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours. 

“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses. 

“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail. 

“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger. 

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.

“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush. 

“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.

You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric. 

“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears. 

He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes. 

“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.

Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off. 

“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer. 

Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh. 

“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this. 

“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin. 

“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.

“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.  

“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.” 

Mattheo. 

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3

nav. mlist. more content.

taglist (join here): @xolaylaxo @one-direction-harry-potter1 @kayleiggh @abaker74 @anahcruz15 @justreadingficsdontmindme @droplikeconfetti @itzliyalupin @hvgwartss @bunnyweasley23 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @loveeharrington @saturnmoonyy @nyctophicbtch @usuck @bigtiddywench @mih-velaryon @scrletletter @le000xxgrd @dramaticals @thepotatopigeon @etolies-garden @rafesslxt @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @rafesgiirl @sluttychanel @youroptimisticblackhole @blackthunder137 @rafesthroatbaby @qualitykinghologram @helendeath @i-like-pandas5 @oceandriveab @llpovi @slytherinshalo @djlance-rock @k-2319 @thelostsea @vendetta-ari @moonpascal @literally-a-ferret @lazybitch06 @201010-11jk @beyond-the-ashes @zurzolosgf @someoneisreading @scorched333 @k-kizkhalifa @tateshifts

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND YOU (their crush)

KISSING THEIR CHEEKS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none just fluff

note : little nod to max's 4th championship win, congrats to him, sooo proud !!

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

I know for sure boy was blushing so so hard. But it's absolutely adorable and cute. Oscar is very patient with you, and even though he dreams of being able to touch you in a more than friendly way, of being able to at least have the right to a little kiss, he restrains himself and tries not to act under his impulses. . However, when you decided to quickly kiss him on the cheek, out of nowhere, he actually felt himself melting from the inside. His cheeks have never blushed so much, and his heart has never beaten so quickly.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Ugh, you guys can barely hold eye contact, but he's already so in love. So mad in love even. Despite the fact that you are still shy, especially him, that you struggle to make eye contact without blushing afterwards, Lando can't help but ask for more. Just a little extra. So, when he walked you to your doorstep, he immediately asked you if he could have even a mini kiss. Your lips naturally landed on his cheek, brushing against it, almost like a ghost kiss. And when you pulled back oh... He was already touching the place where your lips rested, cheeks as pink as yours.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

This was absolutely surprising to Charles. But he would love to be able to feel that feeling again. When your lips pressed naturally against his cheek, your hands framing his face perfectly. He didn't move for at least a good two minutes, trying to figure out what just happened. If it was real. He was so shocked that he didn't see you lean in again to place another sweet kiss. He blinked a few times, and you could only giggle silently. Oh, it was the best day of his without a doubt. And if he could live it again, he wouldn't hesitate for a single second before saying yes.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

He only had eyes for you. And he loved seeing you smile, and making you happy. So from time to time he spoils you, and although you don't like it when he buys so many things for you, you always end up thanking him warmly because after all, it's adorable. You always hugged him, hugging him a little tighter each time, but this time it was different. You wanted a change from hugs, so with a surge of courage and love you gently kissed his cheek to thank him. He was dizzy, almost on the verge of passing out. He couldn't hold back a shy smile, and above all he couldn't settle for a hug from now on.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

He waited there patiently, sitting in a corner of the garage before getting in his car. You were a few feet away from him, watching the mechanics adjust the final modifications to the car. He couldn't help but admire you. And stare at your lips. God, he would give anything to be able to feel them against his skin. And as he was about to get in the car, he stopped when he felt your arm rest on his forearm. And without knowing how, your lips crashed onto his cheek in a quick kiss. His best smile appeared on his face, as he tried to hide his blush by putting on his helmet. Finally, his wish came true, right?

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. He already found you so perfect, so beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It wasn't just a crush anymore, it was George, a simp for you. But already his heart was speeding up just by looking at you, he really thought it was going to stop beating when you gently kissed him on his cheeks. It was pure, sweet and... terribly affectionate. He tried to appear as normal as possible, but inside he was a mess. His whole body was telling him to kiss you and tell you everything he has in his heart right now. And he's sure that day will come soon, because there's no way another day will pass without a kiss from you.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

As the race draws to a close, Max is finally a 4th time F1 world champion. And getting out of his car, as he proudly waves his arm to greet the crowd, only one thing is on his mind. You, you and only you. So it was natural that he found you among the crowd, looking at you as if only you existed in the world. His hair was still damp, his face still covered in drops of sweat, but that absolutely didn't stop you from pressing your soft lips against his cheek, for a long time. Passionately. And oh, that sweet gesture was better than any championship. His eyes spoke for themselves.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDIO

He will never, ever stop teasing you about the kiss you gave him. Quite simply because he loves seeing you smile and laugh, but above all because he secretly wants you to repeat this gesture over and over again, for eternity. Honestly, you wouldn't even have to ask him for permission as he will already be ready to receive another kiss from you on the cheek. It was by far the most beautiful experience of his life, and oh, his heart always asks for more when he sees you. So, he hopes to feel your lips on his skin again, even if it costs him to tease you all day long.

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter six ♡

Summary: Going through a hangover, two knocks surprise your door. Travis asks you to be honest, and Joel tries to get closer again. WC: 12.8k A/N: Well… today I'm feeling things. I hope you like it <3 remember that I no longer use the tag list, and if you want to receive notifications you can activate them on this blog or on capuccinodollupdates. Thank you very much for your messages and comments!!!!! Love youuuu

You lay sprawled on your bed, the warmth of the shower still clinging to your skin, your body humming faintly from the ibuprofen you’d taken an hour ago. When you’d woken up, sunlight had pierced directly through the blinds, straight into your eyes, splitting your head with a sharp, immediate ache. The kind of morning that felt punitive, though you weren’t sure what you were being punished for. But the water had helped. It always did. Steam rising, muscles softening, your skin flushed pink in its aftermath—a small gift you didn’t know you’d needed until now.

Sliding into your softest pajama pants and a faded gray cotton T-shirt oversized enough to drown in, you caught sight of the corset lying next to your boots. Something twisted low in your stomach. A reminder.

You remembered it as soon as you’d blinked awake: Joel. Joel in your bed. Silence wrapping around you both like a second, unspoken language. You’d cried, hadn’t you? Said something reckless, something that burned on the way out but didn’t feel entirely true. His face swam back to you in bits: the wet sheen in his eyes, the way he’d hugged you, close enough to steal your breath. And your words—you’d told him you hated him. That much was clear. You didn't hate him, he knew that. The feeling was raw and slippery, hard to hold. Surely Joel knew. He was always the first to claim he understood these things, always insufferably sure of himself.

Your gaze stayed fixed on the wall, though your mind wandered to Travis and then boomeranged right back to Joel, replaying the fragments of memory you had like they were clues in a puzzle you couldn’t solve. It was exhausting. You were exhausted. Eventually, you shut your eyes, not sleeping, but not entirely awake either, your body loosening as the pain ebbed and flowed. Your feet still throbbed, but even that felt distant, manageable.

Then the doorbell rang. The sound sliced through the quiet and dragged you back to the surface. You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to summon the energy to move. With a sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, sliding your feet into slippers, and shuffled toward the stairs. Halfway down, you froze, heart stuttering in your chest. What if it was Joel? It made sense—too much sense, actually. Except, what if it didn’t? What if he wasn’t here to fix things but to remind you of everything you’d said and did last night? What if he wasn’t here at all, and the thought of him was worse than his presence?

You didn’t have the stamina for him today.

Still, you kept moving, your stomach coiled tight as you reached for the door. When you opened it, relief swept over you like a breeze. Travis stood there, eyes a little puffy, a wooden paper bag with Mcfly’s stamped across the front dangling from his hands. The smell—greasy, rich, tempting—hit you first. He smiled, sheepish, his fingers curling around the bag like an offering.

“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse but warm.

You laughed softly, stepping aside to let him in. “Hey. You look awful.”

“Thanks,” he teased, his grin widening. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Hungry, apparently,” you replied, following him into the kitchen. “What about you? Any lingering regrets?”

“Only a thousand.” He set the bag on the counter and turned to you, his expression playfully contrite. “Throwing up dressed as Patrick Bateman was not on my bingo card.”

“Your puke was blue,” you reminded him, unable to suppress your laugh.

He groaned, covering his face with one hand. “God, stop. Please accept my apology in the form of food.”

You pulled the containers from the bag, grinning as the smell intensified. “Apology accepted. But seriously, Travis, it happens to everyone. Though I’d say chugging a Blue Elephant probably increases your odds.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you, his smile softening. “Lesson learned. Never again.”

The two of you settled at the kitchen island, the plates piled high with burgers that felt almost comically indulgent—brioche buns, bacon, fried eggs, stacked patties. Fries on the side. It was exactly what you needed, and the silence between you was easy, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery and the occasional laugh.

At some point, you noticed Travis watching you, his gaze a little too focused, a little too heavy. It sent a ripple of awareness through you, and you set your fork down, your cheeks flushing before you could stop them.

“I had a great time last night,” he said suddenly, his fingers tracing the rim of his plate. “Even with the, uh, puke thing. I hope we can…you know, pick up where we left off.”

Your heart skipped. He said it so casually, like he was talking about resuming a TV show or a book he’d put down. But you knew what he meant. His hands on your thighs, his breath hot against your neck—the near miss. You smiled, leaning into the moment.

“I’d like that,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “I have a great time with you, Travis. It feels…easy.”

“I hope that’s a compliment,” he teased, his eyes glinting.

“It is,” you assured him.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the doorbell rang again, cutting him off. You sighed, pushing back from the stool.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, and he nodded, standing as well.

“Mind if I use the bathroom?”

“Go ahead. It’s under the stairs,” you told him, already heading for the door.

When you opened it, the air shifted. Joel stood there, your name falling from his lips like a quiet invocation. Your heart stuttered. His eyes locked on yours. 

Joel stood in front of you, his posture deceptively calm, but his eyes betrayed him. They searched your face intently, as if trying to unearth some hidden answer you weren’t sure you even held. His voice, when he finally spoke, was steady but tinged with uncertainty. 

“I, um... How are you?” 

The words fell between you, simple enough, but they seemed to carry more weight than the situation demanded. You blinked, your response escaping almost before you registered it. 

“Fine.” Automatic. A placeholder for the more complicated truth swirling inside you. 

He nodded, his expression softening slightly, though his gaze never left yours. “I wanted to check on you. After last night, I mean. And... I thought maybe we could talk for a moment. If you’re up for it.” 

The now-familiar tingle unfurled in your stomach, subtle but insistent. It was Joel’s effect on you, one you could neither anticipate nor ignore. His presence always seemed to trigger some deep, cellular reaction, your body responding to him before your mind had the chance to catch up. 

You let your eyes wander over him, taking him in as if cataloging the moment: the disheveled state of his hair, the small strands poking out stubbornly at the crown of his head; the quiet intensity in his dark, swollen eyes, the kind that told you sleep hadn’t come easy. His sweater was black, soft-looking, and fit just snug enough across his shoulders. Below that, dark pants and boots that carried a scuffed sort of permanence.

He didn’t flinch under your gaze. He rarely did. 

“Sure,” you said finally, fighting to keep your voice steady. “I mean... yeah. I feel better now.” 

His brow lifted, and the corner of his mouth tugged upward in a crooked half-smile that felt almost involuntary. “Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Yeah.” The tension between you felt oddly fragile, as though one wrong word could snap it altogether. 

“Good,” he said, his voice soft, almost to himself. “Uh, so...when you’re ready, we can talk. Doesn’t have to be now.” 

“No,” you interrupted quickly, sensing his sudden retreat. “I want to. Just—not sure now’s the best time.” 

His eyes flickered, something like relief washing over his features. “Okay. Whenever works for you. Just let me know.” 

There was something in the way he spoke that made you pause—a quiet hesitance, almost submissive, so unlike Joel that it left you momentarily off-balance. Before you could respond, the sound of a door opening and closing under the stairs interrupted the fragile moment between you. 

Joel’s gaze darted past you, his body stiffening. “I should get going. Need to see Tommy,” he said abruptly, his words coming faster now, as if the interruption had jolted him. “But I’ll be back before five. If you’re okay with that.” 

“I’ll text you,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. 

Joel nodded once, and for a moment, his eyes softened again, lingering on you like he wanted to say more. But the sound of footsteps drew both your attention, and you turned just in time to see Travis approaching from the hall. 

“Hi, Joel,” Travis said, his voice light and oblivious. “How’s it going?” 

Joel’s demeanor shifted instantly, his polite but clipped reply sharp in contrast to the way he’d been speaking to you moments ago. “Fine. And you... regaining energy, I see.”

“That's right,” Travis nodded, a pleasant pout on his lips. “Never drink more than one blue elephant, trust me,” he teased.

Joel’s laugh was hollow, a noise that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not on my agenda last time I checked.” 

The tension was palpable now, thickening the air. Though you were sure the tightening thread was solely between you and Joel, and Travis had only moved in to tighten it even more. Joel’s gaze flickered to you briefly, searching your face, you looking at him almost as if silently imploring him not to say anything offensive. But he didn't seem to want to bother Travis at that moment, which surprised you a little.

“Call me later,” he said to you, his tone softening again but only for you. “Whenever works.” 

“I will,” you promised, the words coming easily, though the knot in your stomach tightened as you watched Joel take a few steps back. He hesitated for only a second before turning and walking briskly to his truck. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed faintly as you closed your own door, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 

When you turned back, Travis was still standing there, his expression curious but unreadable. He didn’t say anything, though, as you brushed past him and returned to the kitchen, dropping back into your seat and taking a long sip of soda. 

Travis joined you a moment later, resuming his seat across from you. He picked up his burger but didn’t take a bite right away, his fingers idly picking at the edges of the bun. His silence stretched, pressing against you, until finally, he spoke. 

“So,” he began carefully, his tone light but probing, “how’s everything with Joel?” 

The question caught you off guard, even though it shouldn’t have. You forced yourself to look at him, your expression neutral. 

“We haven’t really figured things out,” you admitted, keeping your tone casual. "If that's what you're asking."

Travis nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. “I thought as much,” he said, setting his burger down. “Saw him the other day at the supermarket. Didn’t say hi—he looked...busy.” 

You offered him a small, noncommittal shrug, hoping he’d let the subject drop. But instead, his gaze lingered on you, studying you the way Joel had earlier. 

“Can I ask you something?” Travis said, his voice softer now. "And please be honest." 

You didn’t blink, your body stilling in response to the deliberate softness in Travis’s voice. It wasn’t the kind of soft that soothed; it was careful, as if he was trying to handle something fragile without breaking it.

“Sure,” you said, your voice neutral despite the curiosity growing inside you. “What is it?”

“Listen, please don’t think I’m prying.” His tone wavered, brushing up against nervousness.

“I won’t, Trav,” you said, laughing lightly, though the sudden weight of his seriousness made the moment feel unbalanced.

“Okay.” He smiled, the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. It reminded you of a kid caught holding something he shouldn’t but deciding to risk it anyway. “So, ever since I moved into the neighborhood, I noticed you and Joel were... close. At first, I thought you were together. Ian even confirmed that you were just friends, but for a while, I didn’t quite believe it. Then Helena told me the same; you were just friends.”

Your attention sharpened around his words, each one striking a chord of unease.

“And I thought that was good for me, you know?” he continued, leaning back slightly, his nervous hands fidgeting with the edge of his glass. “Because I liked you. Even back then. But then, Joel came over one day while I was working on the yard—offered to help me out. He was nice, friendly even.”

“Oh,” you murmured, the word slipping out before you could stop it. Your voice sounded far away to your own ears. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Travis said, shifting in his seat. “I told him I was almost done, didn’t really need help. But I thought, why not? So I said he could help me with something else.”

There was a pause. His gaze faltered, dropping to his hands. He clicked his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment as though bracing himself.

“And then I said something stupid.”

“What did you say?” The question tumbled out, your curiosity escaping before you could temper it. You couldn’t recall Joel ever being nice to Travis. If anything, his attitude toward him bordered on dismissive, sometimes outright cold.

“I, uh...” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told him he could help me with you.”

Your lips parted slightly, your expression betraying your surprise, but you didn’t interrupt him.

“I said something like... if he wasn’t careful, I might steal you from him forever,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing deeply. “You know, like a dumb joke.”

The breath you’d been holding slipped out in a shaky laugh. “You said what?”

“I know, okay? It was stupid.” He grimaced, glancing away. “His whole attitude shifted. He got... intense. Asked if I thought you were some kind of object. Said I was an idiot for underestimating you like that.” Travis’s voice softened, tinged with embarrassment. “I apologized right away, told him I didn’t mean it seriously. But he just turned and walked off.”

“Yeah, well, that sounds like Joel,” you muttered, a hint of amusement slipping into your tone despite yourself.

Travis, however, didn’t seem amused. He sighed, dragging his hand over his face.

“Yeah. And ever since then, he’s been... I don’t know. Dismissive. Like I don’t exist. And at first, I figured I deserved it—I was out of line. But after a while, I started to think... maybe there’s more to it. Something I don’t know about.”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your face neutral. Still, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze felt heavier now, like he was peeling back layers, trying to uncover something buried.

“And when we started seeing each other, I thought maybe it didn’t matter,” he continued. “You told me you and Joel had argued, and that’s why things were strained. I believed you. But when I see the way you two act around each other...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s just... obvious. Too obvious. I’m sorry, but I have to ask—” His eyes locked onto yours, unflinching. “Did something happen between you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and inescapable. Your heart raced, each beat loud and insistent in your ears. You felt pinned in place, his gaze pressing against your silence like a weight you couldn’t lift.

“Travis...” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

His expression shifted, softening, but not in a way that let you off the hook. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. “It’s okay. Just... be honest.”

You liked Travis. You liked how steady he was, how easy it felt to be around him. And it hurt to realize he’d been carrying this doubt, this unspoken question, all this time. But his words also unraveled something inside you—a confession that finally made sense of Joel’s behavior. The teasing, the frustration, the way he reacted whenever Travis came up in conversation. Joel’s coldness toward him had been about you all along.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The single word carried a weight that settled between you, unavoidable. “A couple of weeks ago.”

The flicker of hope in his eyes extinguished, replaced by something quieter. Not anger, but something like disappointment. A quiet hurt he tried to hide but couldn’t entirely mask.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice steady, though you could hear the tension beneath it.

You hesitated. For a moment, you wanted to lie, to downplay the truth for his sake, for your own. But Travis had been honest with you from the start, and he deserved the same in return.

“We slept together,” you said finally, the words leaving your mouth like a weight dropping. “It was... a mistake. On his own words, that’s what he said.”

“He said it was a mistake?”

“Yeah.” The word felt colder this time, sharper.

Travis didn’t say anything for a long moment. He only nodded, as if piecing something together silently. And though you couldn’t quite read his expression, the shift in the air between you was undeniable.

“Then why did you fight?” Travis’s voice was steady but probing, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “Was it because you slept together, or because he said it was a mistake?”

Your breath hitched. The question landed somewhere deep, stirring thoughts you’d been desperately trying to suppress. There was something in his tone—a clarity that felt unbearable, like a light shining on all the truths you weren’t ready to confront.

“Is there a difference?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a feeble attempt at deflection, one that neither of you believed.

Travis let out a soft sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—fragile and fleeting.

“I’m afraid there is,” he said simply. “Because if the fight was about him thinking it was a mistake... that means you don’t think it was.”

“No,” you said quickly, too quickly, shaking your head as if the physical act could erase the implication. “No, that’s not it.” But the words felt hollow, a lie that echoed between you both. “Do you want to know why we fought? It wasn’t about that. It’s because he was cruel to me. That night, before anything even happened, he treated me like I was insane—like I was jealous of the woman he’s dating. And afterward...” You swallowed hard, your voice faltering. “Afterward, he acted like it disgusted him to be with me.”

Travis’s expression shifted, his eyes slightly wider now, but he didn’t interrupt. You could feel tears building, threatening to spill, but you pushed forward, the words pouring out faster than you could stop them.

“He’s been awful to me, Travis. Every chance he gets, he finds a way to provoke me, to make me feel small. Even to you—he’s been horrible to you, and it’s... it’s complete bullshit.” Your voice cracked, and you exhaled shakily, wiping at your eyes. “Because he was my best friend. For years. And it’s hard for me to accept that someone I respected so much doesn’t respect me back. That’s what happened. That’s why everything’s so strange now.”

Travis nodded slowly, still quiet, his gaze steady but unreadable. You took another deep breath, your chest aching with the effort of holding it together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you added softly. “But it was... private. And when we started seeing each other, everything was so new, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to tell you.”

The silence that followed felt like a living thing, pressing down on you. Travis leaned back slightly, his fingers grazing the edge of his glass. He looked at you with an expression that made your stomach churn—gentle, but heavy with something that made you afraid.

“I know,” he said at last, his voice calm. “I know you wouldn’t keep something like that out of malice.”

“No, never,” you insisted, your voice cracking at the edges.

“But...” He exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “I can’t lie to you, honey. This does affect me. And I don’t think I can pretend it doesn’t.” His honesty was like a sharp edge, cutting through whatever thin veneer of composure you’d managed to hold onto.

Your chest tightened. “Travis, I—”

He cut you off gently, raising a hand. “Listen. I like you. I really like you. You’re smart, and kind, and... easy to be around. But I don’t want to feel like I’m an obstacle in someone else’s story.”

“No,” you said, the word coming out as a rushed, desperate exhale. “You’re not. That’s not how it is. Joel and I... what happened between us was a mistake. A stupid, heat-of-the-moment thing that ruined everything we had. It’s over.”

Travis tilted his head slightly, studying you with that same quiet intensity. Then he shook his head, a soft, sad smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think Joel believes that.”

“Of course he does,” you insisted, though your voice sounded small, even to yourself. “He barely tolerates being around me now.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” His voice was calm, steady, as if he’d already thought this through. “I think Joel has... feelings for you. And I think it scares him so much he doesn’t know what to do with it. That’s why he’s defensive. That’s why he can’t stand me. That’s why he kept watching us at the barbecue like I was committing some kind of crime.”

“Travis—”

“No, just... let me finish,” he said gently, his hand brushing against yours. “I like you. I do. And I love spending time with you. But I don’t want to get caught in the middle of something I don’t understand.”

You blinked, feeling the words lodge somewhere in your throat. There was an ache now, spreading through your chest. “What... what are you saying?”

He gave you a small, bittersweet smile. “I’m saying you need to work things out with him. Figure out what’s really there—if it’s nothing, or if it’s something you just don’t want to admit yet. And once you do, if things are clear—really clear—then I’ll be here. If you want me to be.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your nearly empty plate. The lump in your throat threatened to choke you, and you fought to keep your tears from falling. If Travis noticed, he didn’t say anything.

The silence lingered for only a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice shifting to something lighter. He told you a story about one of his friends you’d met the night before, trying to fill the space between you with something less painful. You appreciated the effort, even if it only barely reached you.

Later, when you settled on the couch, he pulled up a documentary on potatoes—something about their versatility and origins. You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder, as his warmth settled over you like a temporary balm. But as the documentary droned on, your attention blurred, your eyelids heavy with the weight of the night. Before you could process it, you drifted off, the quiet hum of his presence the only thing keeping you grounded.

*

When you opened your eyes, the room was still and dim, the TV screen darkened, its glow long since faded. You were stretched out on the couch, comfortably cocooned in the softness of a throw blanket that hadn’t been there earlier. You stretched lazily, a deep yawn escaping your throat, and for a brief moment, everything felt calm. You felt rested, better.

But the calm didn’t last.

The memory of your conversation with Travis resurfaced like a stone dropped into a still pond, ripples spreading out and disturbing your peace. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, your body still tingling with the remnants of an unburdened nap.

That’s when you noticed the note on the coffee table, a piece of paper folded neatly, its corners perfectly aligned. You reached for it, your fingers brushing against the edges before unfolding it.

The note was simple, in Travis’s clean, deliberate handwriting:

"I had to go home, didn’t want to wake you up; thought the rest would do you good. See you later :)."

You sighed, reading his words again and again, overanalyzing every line, every punctuation mark. Of course, he was kind, thoughtful as always. But underneath that kindness was something else—a quiet truth he’d handed you earlier like a weight too heavy to carry alone.

He was right. You couldn’t have anything honest with him if you didn’t face the mess you’d left behind with Joel. And that, of course, was even more complicated than you wanted to admit. Because you knew why.

You loved Joel.

Not just in the messy, confusing way that kept you up at night. But in all the other ways too. Joel was your best friend. Losing him had been one of the hardest things you’d endured in years, and the ache of that absence lingered like a bruise you couldn’t stop pressing. You missed everything about him—his dry humor, the easy rhythm of your shared days, the unspoken understanding that only years of friendship could bring.

You missed the mundane, simple things: the lunches that turned into dinners, the quiet nights spent on his couch, watching some terrible action movie he insisted was a “classic.” The lazy afternoons in his backyard, the sun catching in his hair as he hosed down his truck, grinning like a kid when he’d spray water in your direction just to hear you yell. The way he listened, the way he told you things he wouldn’t tell anyone else. The moments with Sarah—how natural it all felt, like a little pocket of family you’d carved out together.

And then it was gone. The thought of it made your chest tighten.

Your phone was on the coffee table, its screen dark until you picked it up. 4:34 p.m. The nerves in your stomach stirred again, buzzing like static beneath your skin. You stared at Joel’s name in your contacts. His number had been blocked since that Tuesday. If he’d tried to text you, you wouldn’t know.

Your thumb hovered over the unblock button, then pressed it. There. Done.

But now what?

You stared at the tiny phone icon next to his name, debating whether to call him. Your thumb twitched, but you froze. Maybe it would be better to write. Calls made you nervous—they left too much space for things to go wrong.

"Hi, Joel, I was thinking—"

No. Too vague.

"Joel, if you want, we can—"

No. Still wrong.

"Hi, can you talk—"

No, no, no.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch, the phone still warm in your hand. Before you could talk yourself out of it, your thumb pressed the call button. The line connected almost immediately, and then there it was—his voice, steady and familiar.

He said your name like it was a sentence.

“Hi, Joel,” you said, your voice even despite the way your heart was racing.

“D'you want me to come to your place, are you coming to mine, or should we meet somewhere else?” he asked, skipping over pleasantries entirely.

Always to the point.

“Is Sarah with you?” you asked instead, needing a moment to steady yourself.

“No. She’s with Lea.”

Lea. Right. You remembered Sarah talking about her—her new friend from soccer. Lea lived nearby with her mom and older sister, had a huge collection of video games, and a mother who baked cakes Sarah couldn’t stop raving about. But even then, Sarah had reassured you with a grin, “No one’s better at baking than you.”

She wouldn’t be back until dinner, you realized. It gave you some space, some time.

“Okay,” you said, weighing your options. You didn’t want to cry in public, and your house... well, nothing good had come from Joel being there last time. “I’ll go to your house,” you decided, bringing a hand to your forehead. “In fifteen. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, his voice calm. “I’ll be here.”

You hung up without another word, the silence in your living room rushing back to meet you.

For a moment, you stood there, gripping the phone like it might steady the erratic thrum of your pulse. Your blood rushed in your ears, drowning out every other sound.

Fifteen minutes. That was all you had to pull yourself together. 

*

You rang the doorbell and swallowed hard, nerves curling tightly in your stomach. Your eyes flicked down to your body in an almost absent check. The pajamas had been swapped for something presentable but still low effort: tailored black pants that grazed your feet, a black t-shirt layered under a wool sweater of the same shade. Safe. Functional. On your feet, though, the betrayal of slippers—a detail you hadn't thought much about until now, standing on Joel’s doorstep.

Inside, heavy footsteps approached, steady and deliberate. A sharp pang of anticipation ran through you. Less time passed than you expected before the door swung open, and there he was, framed by the familiar threshold.

Joel’s dark eyes met yours, scanning over you with a quiet intensity. He hadn’t changed much from earlier—still in the same dark jeans, but his sweater was gone, replaced with a simple white t-shirt that clung to his broad frame in that way that made your throat feel tight. He smiled softly, disarmingly, like he’d been practicing this exact expression.

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside to make room for you.

You hesitated for half a second before crossing the threshold. The familiar scent of his home—clean laundry mingling with faint traces of coffee and wood—hit you immediately, stirring something warm in your chest. You took in the living room, unchanged since the last time you were here, though your memory painted it differently now. This house, this space, was the backdrop to so much shared history, yet it felt heavy with everything left unresolved.

You paused in the living room, your hands finding their way into your pockets. The couch sat there like a relic, the same spot you’d occupied last time taunting you with its familiarity. Sitting felt both inevitable and wrong, like stepping back into a memory you’d tried too hard to forget. You lowered yourself onto the cushion anyway, folding into the space where you used to fit so effortlessly.

“D'you want something to drink?” Joel asked, already heading toward the kitchen. “I just made coffee. Got some of that chocolate you like too.”

You nodded without thinking, your voice betraying you with a simple, “Chocolate’s fine.” It came out softer than you’d intended, like you were worried anything louder might shatter the precarious peace between you.

Joel nodded back and disappeared through the archway. You were left standing in the middle of the room, the stillness pressing in. The faint aroma of coffee curled around you as your eyes moved over the space.

The TV was on pause, the frozen frame capturing Arnold Schwarzenegger mid-glare, leather jacket gleaming under dim lighting. On the coffee table, a stack of DVDs sat next to Joel’s keys. It was all so mundane, so normal, but the weight of your own memories turned it into something else entirely.

Your gaze lingered on the spot next to you, the place where Joel had sat the last time you were here. The memory hit like a bruise being pressed, sharp and unwelcome. You could still feel the crackling tension of that night, the words that had gone unspoken, and the ache of things breaking further apart.

By the time Joel returned, balancing two mugs, you’d managed to pull yourself back to the present. He set yours on the coffee table in front of you—a perfect swirl of steam curling from its surface—before sinking into the couch beside you with his own. The proximity sent a flicker of awareness through you, unsettling but familiar.

The chocolate was perfect, sweet and rich, just as you’d remembered. You focused on the cup in your hands, grateful for something tangible to anchor you. Joel took a sip from his mug, the silence stretching between you like a taut string.

He spoke first, breaking the quiet with a voice that was both casual and loaded. “Sarah’s still mad at me.” He paused, glancing at you before adding, “Said she didn’t want to be home if I was gonna keep acting like an idiot.”

The corner of your mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. “Why’s she mad?”

Joel gave you a look, his brows drawing together like he wasn’t sure if you were serious. “Because of yesterday,” he said finally. “When I wouldn’t let her talk to you.”

“Oh,” you murmured, the memory of his sharp tone from the day before resurfacing. You took another sip, letting the warm liquid settle in your chest.

Joel’s presence beside you felt larger now, like it was pressing against the edges of your awareness. It was strange, this new dynamic—this quiet discomfort with a man who had once been your safe place.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence turning awkward in a way that made you itch. Your mind churned with unspoken words, all the things you wanted to say but didn’t know how to. And then, without fully realizing it, the thought slipped from your mouth:

“This is a bad idea.”

Joel’s head snapped up, his body tensing.

“No, wait,” he said quickly, setting his mug down as he reached for your hand, still curled around your cup. The warmth of his touch startled you, grounding and overwhelming all at once. “Please, don’t leave. Let’s talk. Just… talk, okay?”

The quiet desperation in his voice made you pause. You pulled your hand back, setting the cup on the table, and leaned away slightly, trying to create some distance.

“Okay,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “Speak, then.”

Joel’s gaze dropped to his hands, his fingers fidgeting in an almost subconscious rhythm, twisting together before pulling apart, like his thoughts were straining against each other in his head. His tongue flicked out briefly to moisten his upper lip, a small, nervous habit you’d noticed but never commented on. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost too soft, but it carried weight, each word vibrating in your ears as if they’d been tailored just for you. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his words deliberate, as though he’d rehearsed them countless times but still wasn’t sure how they’d land. His eyes didn’t meet yours, staying glued to the restless movement of his fingers.

You straightened in your seat, your chest tightening, not because you didn’t know what he meant—you absolutely did—but because you needed him to say it. To finally put it out there, to stop hiding behind vague statements and unfinished thoughts.

“What, Joel?” you prompted, your voice sharper than you intended. 

His head lifted just slightly, his brow furrowed in a way that softened his expression rather than hardening it. His eyes, however, told the real story—heavy and shadowed, the exhaustion there making him look older than you’d ever allowed yourself to notice. 

“This,” he gestured vaguely between you two, his hand falling limp to his lap again, “this thing we’re doing. Acting like strangers or, worse, like seeing each other is some kind of punishment we’re both trying to avoid. I can’t stand it anymore. I hate it.”

You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the couch as your arms crossed instinctively over your chest. His words stung because, on some level, they echoed your own feelings, but hearing them from him made you bristle. “I’ve never acted like that with you, Joel. Never.” Your voice was steady, clear, every syllable landing with precision. “If anything, you’re the one acting like seeing me is a nightmare you can’t wait to wake up from.”

Joel’s mouth parted as if to protest, but you didn’t give him the chance. “Like yesterday,” you continued, your tone sharpening. “Forcing Sarah into the house, shutting me out like I was the problem. Or all those times you decided to pretend I didn’t exist. How do you think that makes me feel, Joel?”

His frown deepened, but he didn’t look away. “That’s not true,” he said firmly, though his voice lacked the confidence his words suggested. “Every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you’ve shut me out. Like you couldn’t bear to be near me. I saw it in your eyes, felt it in the way you’d flinch or turn away. Like at the Hoffmans’, when you wouldn’t even look at me. And every time I spoke, I could feel your... discomfort.”

The mention of that night sent heat rising to your face, a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“Joel, really?” Your voice pitched slightly higher, but you forced yourself to rein it in, refusing to let him pull you into a full-blown argument—not yet. “You were so mean that night. To me, to Travis. What exactly did you expect? For me to smile and pretend like everything was fine?”

“I remember,” Joel interrupted, his voice dipping into something closer to regret. He rubbed a hand across his face, as though trying to erase the memory. “I just—” He paused, his brow furrowing further. “I just hated the way you looked at me. When I sat next to you I realized right away how uncomfortable you were with me there. I couldn’t stand it.”

You let out a long, slow breath, rubbing your temple as you tried to keep your own frustration from boiling over. “What did you expect me to feel, Joel? Our last conversation didn’t exactly leave me eager to see you again. Honestly, I didn’t even think you’d show up.”

“Why not?” he asked, sounding genuinely baffled. “I never miss the Hoffmans’ barbecues.”

That made you laugh, a short, humorless sound. “You hate those barbecues. You’ve said it a hundred times—the music, the noise, the neighbors gossiping. You only ever went because of us, didn’t you?”

He sighed, leaning back against the couch and dropping his hands onto his thighs. His gaze drifted to some fixed point ahead of him, like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Yeah,” he admitted after a long pause. “And I wasn’t lying; I went because I knew you’d be there.”

His words hit you like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t respond. You stared at him, searching his face for some sign that he was joking, but he wasn’t. A small, bitter laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head.

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said, your voice laced with disbelief. “You attended for me but spent the whole night treating me like dirt. And let’s not forget hooking up with Clara Pierce.”

Joel’s face flushed immediately, a faint pink creeping up his neck and settling on his cheeks. He looked down at his hands again, his fingers still fidgeting, but now with a new kind of nervous energy.

“I didn’t hook up with her,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the charged air between you. His gaze lifted to meet yours, earnest and unflinching. “I didn’t. I just walked her home.”

"Yeah, right." You snorted, crossing your arms again. “Do you really think I’m that gullible?”

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, leaning toward you. “I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t even wanted to be around her. I just needed an excuse to get out of there. So I walked her home and I told her to stop... you know, whatever she thought she was doing with me. You can ask her, and she'll probably tell you I'm an asshole.”

There was something in his tone, a rawness that made you pause. He wasn’t lying—you could see it in his eyes. But the relief you felt was quickly overshadowed by anger.

“You knew she liked you, Joel. And you let her think she had a chance. Why? Did you even consider it for a second?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words.

Joel exhaled deeply, his gaze roaming over your face like he was reading a language he used to know fluently but now struggled to understand. The irritation etched into your features mirrored his own; it was like looking into a cracked reflection. His shoulders sagged slightly as if weighed down by his own thoughts.

“No,” he said finally, the word flat, almost lifeless. “I don’t like her. I don’t like the way she talks to me, the way she... carries herself around me. And no, I don’t like the way I acted that night either. I know I was out of line. But I wanted to talk to you, and Travis wouldn’t—” He stopped, shaking his head, his frustration palpable. “He wouldn’t let go of you. And when I finally did talk to you, I screwed it all up again. I know that. I hate it, but it’s the truth. I was pissed off and fed up.”

You straightened your spine, your body tense, arms stiff at your sides. “What did you even want to talk to me about, Joel?” you asked, your voice sharp now, cutting through the air between you. “What for? If every time we talk, all you succeed in doing is making me feel worse?”

He blinked slowly, the weight of your words visibly landing on him. His dark eyes drifted over your face, heavy with something that resembled anguish. His hands rested in his lap, fingers clasped tightly together, his thumbs rubbing small, compulsive circles against each other. When he spoke again, his voice was unsteady, barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his head lowering until his eyes were focused somewhere around your feet. “I try to psych myself up to apologize to you. But every time I see you, I can’t think straight. It’s like my brain short-circuits. I get defensive, I think, whenever I see you looking... happy.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “Happy with him. You look like you’re doing just fine, and I think, what the fuck am I doing? Why am I here? Clearly, you don’t feel as shitty as I do. And then I get angry. I hate how easy it seems for you. How simple it is for you to move on, like my absence doesn’t even register. And that’s what I can’t handle, because that’s not how it is for me. Not at all.”

His gaze lifted to meet yours, and the intensity in his eyes was like a physical touch, hot and almost unbearable. “It’s not my case at all,” he said, his voice quiet but heavy with emotion. “Not a single day has gone by where I haven’t missed you. Do you have any idea how empty this house feels without you? How empty my life feels?”

Your lips parted, the sharp retort on the tip of your tongue faltering under the weight of his words.

“Joel—” you began, but he cut you off, his body leaning toward you, one hand lifting as if to physically hold your words at bay.

“No, I’m serious,” he said, his voice firm now, the rawness in it making your chest tighten. “It’s pathetic, how much it affects me. And it’s exactly what I was afraid of, you know? That we’d cross that line, and everything would go to shit. And now—”

“Is the thought of that night really so unbearable for you, Joel?” you interrupted, your voice trembling but still strong enough to slice through his stormy rambling. You leaned in slightly, your posture rigid, your gaze locked on him. The question caught him off guard; his breath seemed to hitch, his eyes widening. “Because it feels like you can’t even stand it. Like the idea of touching me—of having touched me—is some stain you can’t wash off. Like I was a nasty trap you fell into by mistake, like you needed an acid bath to clean off my handprint. Just a moment of weakness.”

He froze, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. The sunlight streaming through the window behind him illuminated the back of his neck, the soft curls there catching the light like strands of gold. His skin looking golden as honey, dark eyes safe in shadow against the illumination. You could almost swear he wasn't breathing.

“Yes, it is” he said at last, his voice quiet and careful. “But not for the reason you think. I hated how I acted. I hated how I treated you. I was impulsive and cruel, and that’s not how it should’ve been between us. That’s not how we should’ve been.”

You frowned, the confusion and annoyance sharpening your gaze.

“You always think you know how everything should go, don’t you?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. “You map it all out in your head—the beginning, the middle, the end—and when it doesn’t go your way, you act like the world’s against you. Don’t you get tired of trying to control everything, Joel?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply. You leaned back, shaking your head softly.

“You’re impulsive. You’ve always been impulsive," you continued. "That night, at the barbecue, even yesterday. And somehow, you always manage to drag me down with you.”

“Stop it,” he said suddenly, his voice low and firm. He sat up straighter, his broad frame casting a shadow over you as he loomed closer. “You want to know what bothers me? That you act like I forced you into all of this. Like I made you do something you didn’t want to do. Yes, we slept together. I know I messed up afterward, but I didn’t manipulate you into it, and you know it.”

His voice softened but remained steady, each word deliberate. “I asked you, I asked you right before it, don't you remember? Tell me to stop,” he paraphrased, his thick voice sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want me to stop?. No, you said.”

You remembered, of course. The moment was burned into your memory, as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. His voice had been thick with urgency, his body trembling against yours. Tell me to stop, he’d said, his breath hot against your skin, your body pressed against the wall.

“I know,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

Joel’s voice was laced with something raw, an edge of frustration barely concealed. “Then why does it feel like every time we talk, you act like all of this is something I forced you into?” His words hit the air with force, each syllable sharpening the distance between you. “Like I’m the villain in your story. Like seeing me or even talking to me is some kind of punishment. You made that pretty clear at the barbecue.”

You watched him, your chest tightening in that way it always did when his anger met your own. It was ironic, wasn’t it? How he felt like you were the one dragging him down when you’d spent months drowning under the weight of him. You shook your head slowly, a faint, bitter smile curling on your lips.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you said, your voice quieter now but no less firm.

Joel blinked, the sharpness of his expression softening into confusion. His brows relaxed, his shoulders losing some of their tension. He looked at you like he was waiting for something, like you were about to reveal a crucial piece of the puzzle he hadn’t yet figured out.

“You left, Joel,” you began, your tone steady, each word landing like a blow. “You lied to me. You treated me like I was the liar, like I was the jealous one. You used my feelings against me, and then you kissed me like you were trying to win some kind of argument, to prove a point. You undressed me. You saw me naked, touched me, and fucked me. And then you left.”

The words hung in the air between you, and you saw how they hit him—hard. His face didn’t change much, but you noticed the way his brows twitched, how his lips parted slightly as if to respond. But you didn’t give him the chance.

“It took you days to come and talk to me properly. Days,” you continued, your voice harder now, every syllable sharp and deliberate. “And when you finally did, it wasn’t to apologize. You treated me like I was nothing more than an afterthought. A stranger. You said it was a mistake, Joel. That you let yourself go. That you regretted it. Do you have any idea how pathetic that made me feel? How used? My best friend decided that sleeping with me was the worst thing he’d ever done. A ‘torturous mistake,’ I think you called it. And no, you didn’t force me. But don’t stand here and ask me why I don’t want to see you anymore. You made me feel less than nothing.”

Joel’s gaze dropped, his head lowering until you could see the thin scar across the bridge of his nose. It was almost absurd, how familiar you were with it—how many times you’d wanted to trace it with your fingertips. Your hand twitched at your side, but you held still, the distance between you stretching impossibly wide.

When he looked up, his eyes startled you. They were glassy, shimmering with unshed tears that caught the light like fragments of something broken. His voice, when it came, was quieter, almost hesitant.

Joel’s voice was steady but low, weighted with something that felt too big to name.

“The first time I saw you, I felt something I wasn’t supposed to feel,” he said, each word measured, like he’d been rehearsing this in his head for years. “I liked you. Simply put. I’m not sure I was even trying to fight it then, but I knew I should have been.”

You didn’t interrupt. You couldn’t. The weight of his words settled into your chest, filling spaces you hadn’t known were hollow. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, his gaze lingering somewhere to the left of your shoulder.

“It was your birthday,” he continued, his tone softening as though he were wading into the memory. “You were having a bad time. I could tell the second I walked in. I wasn’t even invited to the party, remember? Brianna brought me, and I knew I shouldn’t have attended. It was small, intimate—you clearly weren’t expecting someone like me there. You looked at me like I’d ruined the whole night just by showing up.”

His lips curved slightly, a self-deprecating smile. “Brianna told me it would be fine. She was wrong, obviously. But I figured it out pretty quickly—that it wasn’t me or even the party that was bothering you. It was your birthday. You hated it.” His gaze flicked toward you then, tentative, as if confirming his guess. “Still, you smiled at me in the kitchen. I don’t think you wanted to, but you did. And I thought, this is dangerous.”

Your stomach twisted, memories of that night rushing back in sharp detail—the awkward weight of him in the room, the heat in his voice when he’d said your name. You’d never realized how much he’d been paying attention, even then.

“I was dating your friend,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, “so I didn’t let myself think about it much. But after that night, Brianna kept inviting me to things. And I knew you were always there, and that you probably would always look at me like I was some sort of intruder. So I turned her down every time after that. I didn't—I couldn't afford to find out how much I liked you. I've had enough."

His admission hit you like a punch to the ribs. You gripped the edge of the couch, trying to keep your expression neutral, though you weren’t sure you were succeeding.

“When Brianna and I broke up, I figured that was it. I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.” He exhaled, almost laughing at himself. “And then, four years later, you moved in next door. Can you believe that? I actually thought it was fate or something. Stupid, right?”

The corner of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t say anything. He didn’t notice. He was smiling faintly now, lost in his own thoughts.

“That’s when I realized how much I liked you,” he said, his voice softening. “Too much. But time passed, and you became more than that. You became my best friend. Sarah adored you. I adored you, i do. You made everything feel... I don’t know, lighter. I couldn’t ruin that just because of some crush.”

His words cracked something open inside you, the realization sinking in that he had never known how you felt. How many nights had you lain awake, cursing yourself for the way you looked at him? And all that time, was he doing the same?

“So I let it go,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “I buried it. You were important to me. Too important. I wasn’t going to risk what we had for something that might not even needed to be real. I couldn't corrupt us. But that's just what I did, isn't it?”

He paused, his eyes finally meeting yours. They were dark, shining with a mix of regret and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“I threw it all away in one night. Let myself get carried away, let my anger take over. And now you’re hurt, and I hate myself for it.”

You stared at him, unable to speak. The tears streaming down your face were hot, but you barely registered them. Your whole body felt like it was vibrating, heavy and weightless all at once.

“You’re beautiful,” Joel said suddenly, his voice dropping. “The most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Don’t think for a second that sleeping with you was torture. It wasn’t. I was stupid and selfish and angry, and I hurt you. I didn’t stop to think about what I was doing to you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Your breath caught, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. He wasn’t finished, though. His gaze dropped again, his hands twisting together as he added, almost to himself, “I was too focused on my anger...I didn't realize how much I had hurt you. You look so good with Travis that I thought-”

“Joel.” His name slipped out of your mouth, barely audible, but he didn’t stop.

“He treats you well, doesn’t he?” Joel’s voice cracked slightly. “He’s good to you. Better than I’ve been lately, m'sure of it. I've been mean to him, I know."

"Joel, can-"

"Sarah is very happy for you. Says he's handsome and all that," he continued, almost as if he was thinking out loud. “I’ll stay out of your way,” he said finally, looking back at you with a kindness that made your stomach twist. His smile was soft but hollow, his eyes dark with resignation.

You wanted to tell him to stop. But again, Joel wasn’t looking at you anymore. And his thoughts were spiraling somewhere you couldn’t reach.

“I promise I'll be good. And you don’t have to forgive me. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to try. To make it right. Even just a little, may-”

His voice broke something in you. Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening with something that felt too big to contain. And Joel stopped mid-sentence, his body going still as he took in your expression when you suddenly got up the couch, interrupting the sound of his voice, which slowed down as soon as he saw you. 

Joel’s eyes flickered with confusion as he looked at you, his body tense, like a taut string waiting to snap. Your expression must have told him everything he needed to know—or maybe nothing at all. Your breathing was uneven, shallow, as though you couldn’t find enough air.  

There were too many feelings jostling for attention inside you, none of them distinct, all of them overwhelming. His words were still spinning in your head, looping back and forth without ever resolving into clarity. Was he stepping back? Letting go? Accepting Travis? Did you even want him to do that? The thought alone made your chest tighten painfully, but you didn’t even know if it was what he meant.  

You caught his gaze one last time, something raw passing between you, and then you turned sharply. Your feet carried you toward the door like they had a mind of their own, your breath hitching, your pulse wild and erratic. The rush of blood in your ears drowned out the sound of your footsteps, the room, him. You reached out for the door, your hand trembling, when his touch—firm, warm, steady—landed on your shoulders.  

He turned you to face him, and there he was, his expression cracked open with concern. His brow furrowed, his lips parted slightly, searching for words he didn’t know how to form. He looked lost in a way that made something inside you twist painfully.  

“Please don’t—” Joel began, his voice low, careful, but he didn’t finish. He couldn’t, because suddenly, you were on your toes, leaning into him, closing the space between you like it was inevitable.  

Your arms wrapped around his neck as your lips found his, desperate and unrelenting. For a moment, he froze, stunned, but then his hands moved to your waist, strong and grounding, pulling you closer until there wasn’t even a sliver of space left between you. His eyes fluttered shut, and yours followed, everything else fading to a blur.  

Completely lost, that's how you felt as his lips kissed yours; the kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, and the world tilted. Your breathing came fast and shallow, mixing with his, as if neither of you could quite get enough. His arms tightened around you, his chest pressed against yours, solid and impossibly warm. You felt his strength everywhere, his thick arms wrapped around you, the way he held you like he didn’t want to let go, and it undid you completely.

Your body fit against his in a way that felt both foreign and natural, and when he pulled you tighter, you felt his unmistakable hardness against your belly. The sound that slipped from your lips was involuntary, a soft moan that melted into his mouth. He responded with a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver through you, leaving no doubt that he felt this just as intensely.

He broke the kiss, but only to trail his lips down your neck, finding that spot just beneath your ear that made you gasp. His teeth grazed your skin, gentle but firm, and your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as though you could anchor yourself to him, to this moment. Your body burned under his touch, heat radiating from your skin, your body so hot that if someone spilled water on you it would evaporate instantly.

This time Joel didn't ask, he didn't have to. His hand found yours, and he guided you toward the stairs, his grip steady, his presence a quiet reassurance. Each step was a blur, your feet barely keeping pace with him, but you didn’t care. You trusted him completely, even as your knees wobbled, even as you stumbled and he steadied you.  

When you reached his room, he pushed the door open without hesitation, his lips already finding yours again. It was different this time, hungrier, more urgent, like neither of you could wait any longer.  

How many times had you been in Joel's room? Too many. The space was familiar, you’d been there countless times before, and yet now it felt entirely foreign. The walls seemed closer, the air heavier, thick with anticipation.

He tossed you onto the bed with a gentle push, his hands sliding to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward in one smooth motion before tossing it aside. And his eyes never left yours as he unbuckled his belt, the metallic clink sharp against the charged silence. You sat up, your hands trembling as you peeled off your sweater and shirt, discarding them without a second thought. His pants hit the floor, and as your hands unbuttoned your pants, Joel's hands took over pulling them down your legs, while your eyes devoured the image of him —fully, completely bare—, his thick, swollen dick staring back at you. And you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you.

Joel climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, his mouth finding yours again. His skin was burning hot beneath your fingertips as your hands explored him, desperate and deliberate. You could feel the weight of him pressing against you, grounding you, and yet you felt utterly unmoored.  

He paused, just barely, his eyes locking on yours in a gaze that felt criminal. There was something unspoken in his eyes, something intense and devastating, as his body pressed even closer to yours. The evidence of his desire pulsed against your skin; his silky pink tip throbbing against your belly. And your breath hitched as a wave of heat rolled through you, leaving you breathless. 

Joel’s right hand slid under your back, his fingertips brushing against your skin in a way that sent an electric current racing through you. Instinctively, your spine arched, your body offering itself to him without hesitation. The faint plastic sound of the clasp unbuckling filled the charged air, followed by the soft sensation of his knuckles brushing your shoulder blades.  

You lifted your arms above your head, releasing the hold you’d had around his neck, giving him the space to slide the bra free in one seamless motion. The fabric disappeared somewhere out of sight, irrelevant now, as his lips returned to the curve of your neck. They pressed there, slow and deliberate, his kisses trailing downward with a tenderness that felt almost reverent.  

When his mouth reached your chest, everything else fell away. Joel paused, just for a heartbeat, before opening his mouth and taking one of your breast, his tongue circling your nipple with a teasing rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. His lips were soft, almost unbearably so, and the suction he applied was gentle but insistent, each movement pulling a quiet moan from your throat.  

Your hands found his hair again, threading through the thick, slightly messy strands. This time, you tugged, harder than you meant to, and he responded with a low, guttural moan that vibrated against your skin, the sound so intimate it made your stomach tighten. His free hand claimed your other breast, his thumb moving in slow, agonizing circles over your nipple, each touch coaxing more heat from you, your body so sensitized it felt like every nerve was connected to him.  

The ache inside you was unbearable, a tension building low in your belly that threatened to spill over with just the careful ministrations of his mouth. You felt wild, desperate, every inch of you on edge, and still, he moved with the kind of patience that felt like torture.  

“Joel,” you gasped, your voice raw and unsteady, “fuck me already.” The words spilled out unfiltered, your head falling back against the pillow, your back arching again in a plea for more of him, more of his touch, more of his weight pressing into you.  

His hands stilled for only a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours. Something passed between you then, a moment of recognition—of shared urgency, yes, but also something deeper. Then his hands moved, confident and certain, to the waistband of your underwear. With no hesitation, he hooked his fingers around the elastic and tugged downward, the fabric dragging against your thighs in a way that felt both intimate and freeing.  

Joel sat back slightly, his weight shifting onto his heels as he worked the underwear off completely, his movements slow. The sun streamed through the window, catching him in a way that made your breath hitch. He looked unreal, the golden light painting his skin in warm hues, the flush on his chest and face deepened by the contrast. His eyes, darkened with desire, somehow glinted brighter in this light, a sharp clarity that made them look like liquid amber.  

You couldn’t look away. He was beautiful—too beautiful, almost painfully so—and the way his chest rose and fell, his labored breathing, the way he looked at you, like he wanted to eat you whole, made your throat tighten.  

Joel smiled then, soft but unguarded, and you swore you felt it everywhere. A double inhaled breath escaped his lips, more felt than heard, and then he let the underwear fall to the floor, forgotten.  

His hands found your ankles next, his grip firm but tender as he slowly spread your legs apart, his gaze dropping between them, dropping to the throbbing heart between your legs. The shift in his expression as his eyes settled there—intense, hungry, almost reverent—made heat bloom across your chest. You felt exposed in the most vulnerable, raw way possible. But it felt good. Natural.

Desire was etched across his face, raw and consuming, his lower lip trembling slightly as though he was holding something back—something that threatened to spill over any second. The air between you felt molten, thick with the weight of what was about to happen. Your whole body ached with need, a fire burning so fiercely inside you that you couldn’t bear to wait any longer.  

As though he could read your mind, Joel leaned over you, his hands bracing on either side of your head, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His body hovered just above yours, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hips shifted, his movements slow, deliberate, as he guided himself to you.  

The head of his cock brushed against your clit, swollen and slick with his pre-cum, and the contact sent a shockwave through you. Your cunt throbbed at the sensation, a needy whimper escaping your lips, soft and involuntary.  

Joel groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you as he took himself in hand, rubbing his length against you. The pressure, the friction—it was maddening, each stroke sending your back arching off the mattress. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin like you might fall apart if you didn’t hold on to him.  

Then, without warning, he pressed forward, the thick head of him stretching you open, slow and steady. A gasp tore from your throat as he filled you inch by inch, the delicious ache of it making your head spin. Joel’s breath hitched, his eyes falling shut as he stilled for a moment, buried fully inside you. His body trembled slightly, overwhelmed by the sensation of your warmth gripping him so tightly.  

He dipped his head down, his face close enough that your noses brushed, and your lips found his instinctively, crashing together with a fervent kind of need. His kiss was messy, uncoordinated, but it didn’t matter—it was everything you needed in that moment.  

Joel shifted, bracing himself on his arms, his body pressed even closer to yours as his hips began to move. The first thrust was deep, deliberate, setting a rhythm that sent shockwaves through you. Each roll of his hips drove him impossibly deeper, his cock sliding against your slick heat, glistening in the golden sunlight that spilled across the room.  

The sounds that filled the space were obscene: the wet, rhythmic slap of your bodies meeting, your moans mingling with his, and the creak of the bed frame crashing against the wall with every thrust. The room seemed to shrink around you, the rest of the world fading away until there was only this—only him.  

Your body sank into the mattress under the force of his movements, your hands clutching at his skin desperately. Your nails bit into the muscles of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you cried out, each sound punctuated by the relentless rhythm of his hips.  

You couldn’t think anymore. Your mind had been overtaken completely, drowned in a haze of pleasure so intense it bordered on overwhelming. All you could do was feel—the heat of his body against yours, the slick slide of him inside you, the way every thrust seemed to tear you apart and put you back together all at once.  

His eyes found yours then, blazing with an intensity that made your stomach flip. His face was flushed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and neck, and the sight of him like that—lost in you, undone by you—was enough to make your chest tighten.  

Your hands slid up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your lips finding the curve of his throat. You kissed him there, tasting the salt of his sweat, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Your tongue ran over the wet centimeters of his skin, and Joel let out a low, guttural sound, a noise so raw and primal that it sent a shiver through you.  

His thrusts quickened, each one harder, deeper, the intensity building to a fever pitch. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his skin as if to anchor yourself. You couldn’t hold on much longer—every muscle in your body was coiled tight, the tension growing unbearable, threatening to snap at any second.  

Your mouth found his again, desperate kisses scattered across his jaw and lips, and just as his tongue slipped past your lips, his deep moan vibrated against your mouth. It was your undoing.  

Your body tensed, every nerve igniting as you shattered around him, the release so powerful it stole the breath from your lungs. You cried out, your moans tangled with his as your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, holding him tight.  

Joel’s hips faltered, his rhythm breaking as he followed you over the edge. He groaned, the sound low and hoarse, as his body jerked against yours. You felt him throb inside you, his release hot and overwhelming, spilling deep within you as he buried himself fully one last time.  

The world went quiet then, save for the sound of your labored breathing and the soft creak of the bed as you both stilled. Joel collapsed onto you, his weight grounding you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You were utterly spent, but there was a strange peace in the way his body rested against yours, the way his lips brushed your temple in the aftermath.  

Joel’s lips lingered against yours for a breathless second before he pulled away, his face collapsing into the crook of your neck as though he couldn’t hold himself upright any longer. His body felt heavy, but his touch was soft, almost hesitant, as if the weight of the moment had finally sunk into him. Your labored breaths mingled, the only sound in the room, filling the air with an intimacy that neither of you dared disturb.

When he finally rolled onto his side, you turned to face him, unable to look away. His face was flushed, damp curls clinging to his forehead, and his lips were still swollen and dark from your kisses. There was something unguarded in his expression, a rare openness that made your chest ache. You drank him in with fascination, deliberately holding back the tide of guilt or confusion that threatened to rise.

His eyes caught yours, and when they softened, a warmth unfurled low in your stomach. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with an almost painful tenderness, and then he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple—delicate, reverent, like a vow unspoken.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, with a slight sigh, Joel pushed himself up and padded toward the bathroom. You watched him the whole time, your gaze tracing the lines of his back, the way his shoulders moved with every step. When he returned, he carried a damp towel, crouching beside you with quiet purpose. The towel was warm against your skin as he cleaned you carefully, the act so gentle it left your throat tight.

Once finished, he tossed the towel aside and climbed back into bed, his body sinking into the mattress beside yours, his arms wrapping around you again, bringing you closer to his warm chest. The silence stretched out between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, the two of you caught in the stillness, but the pull of sleep began to tug at you, the haze of exhaustion wrapping around your mind.

Neither of you had spoken a word. The quiet felt sacred, unbroken by explanations or apologies. You didn’t want to speak, and it seemed Joel didn’t either.

But then, the sharp sound of the front door creaking open shattered the stillness, startling you both. Joel bolted upright, his body tense.

“Dad, I’m home!” Sarah’s cheerful voice echoed up the stairs.

Panic shot through you like ice water. You sat up abruptly, your heart pounding as adrenaline surged through your veins. Joel was already on his feet, reaching for his clothes in a hurried, almost frantic motion. His eyes darted to you, his expression equal parts alarmed and apologetic.

“I’ll be right down!” he called out, his voice forced into an approximation of calm. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, and when he returned, his face and hands were damp. He rubbed at his skin with the hem of his shirt, then turned to you, his gaze steady but urgent.

“Five minutes,” he said softly, waiting for your nod before slipping out the door.

Left alone, you scrambled to pull yourself together. Your legs trembled as you stood, still tender, and your hands shook as you worked to smooth your hair and wipe your face. No amount of effort could erase the telltale flush of your skin or the lingering haze in your eyes, but you tried anyway. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was written all over you, I just had sex.

When you finally made your way downstairs, every step felt like walking into a storm. Your body felt too warm, too obvious, but Sarah’s voice rang out before you could falter.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she rushed toward you. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, her excitement genuine and bright. “Dad told me you were upstairs, but I thought he was joking!”

Joel stood in the living room doorway behind her, leaning casually against the frame, his arms crossed. His gaze met yours, careful and unreadable, but the tension between you was a living thing, humming beneath the surface. And then, as Sarah beamed at you, reality crashed over you like a wave.

Travis.

Sienna.

Joel.

And Sarah, looking at you like this was the happiest day of her life.

“What should we do for dinner?” Sarah asked, turning to you expectantly. You opened your mouth, fumbling for a response, but your thoughts were spinning too fast. Your heart was pounding, your pulse roaring in your ears. You glanced at Joel, hoping for a lifeline, but he looked just like you; completely lost.

“Oh, I know,” Sarah said, her tone bright with enthusiasm. “Let’s invite Travis!”

“Sarah,” Joel warned sharply, his voice cutting through her excitement.

“What?” she asked innocently, glancing between the two of you.

“Don’t be nosy,” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

Sarah only laughed, brushing off his scolding. She turned back to you, her expression softening.

“Did my dad apologize to you yet?” she asked conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a mock whisper. “It’s about time.”

Her words hung in the air, a weight that neither you nor Joel seemed willing to touch. And as her laughter echoed around you, you forced a smile, though your mind was already spinning, trying desperately to figure out what to say—or what to do next.

It was too much.

[c0n-fus3d]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

[starsjulia]

baby fever // alexia putellas

a/n : maybe it’s because i’m ovulating, but i feel like im having withdrawals from my child (i don’t have a child)

warnings : none!!

“Alexia,” you said, flopping onto the couch dramatically, your phone clutched in one hand. “Look at this baby. Look. Isn’t this proof we should have one?”

She glanced up from her iPad, one brow raised. “That’s the fifth baby you’ve shown me today.”

“Because they’re soooo cute! And we could have one!” You shoved the phone under her nose, showing her a TikTok of a giggling infant in a tiny onesie. “Imagine our baby. They’d have your eyes, my—”

Alexia cut you off with an amused smirk. “We’ve talked about this, cariño.”

“No, you’ve talked about logistics,” you shot back, sitting cross-legged beside her. “I’ve talked about how I want a baby, like, yesterday.”

She sighed, setting the iPad down. “I’m not saying no. I’m saying it’s a big decision. And with everything we have going on—your work, my schedule—it’s not the right time.”

“Then I’ll carry!” you declared, your voice rising with excitement. “You can keep playing, and I’ll do all the hard parts. It’s perfect!”

Alexia blinked at you, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve… really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“For months,” you said earnestly, grabbing her hand. “I don’t care about logistics or timing. I just know I want to do this with you.”

Her gaze softened, but there was still hesitation. “I’m not against it, amor. I just want to make sure we’re ready. Both of us.”

You groaned, flopping backward into her lap. “If you won’t listen to me, I’ll get backup.”

Alexia frowned. “What does that mean?”



————————

It meant enlisting Mapi and Ingrid.

“Finally!” Mapi said when you brought up your idea at training. She threw her hands in the air dramatically. “I’ve been telling Alexia for years she needs to let loose a little. Having a baby is perfect.”

“Right?” you said, clutching Mapi’s arm. “Imagine her as a mamá. So nurturing, so responsible—”

“And terrifying,” Mapi added, smirking. “Disciplining kids with that captain energy? Iconic.”

Ingrid chimed in from beside her. “Honestly, we’re on board. Do it, and we’ll be the godparents.”

“You’d have to fight Mariona for it,” you teased.

Mapi scoffed, draping an arm over Ingrid’s shoulder. “Please. I’m already the cool tía. It’s a done deal.”

Ingrid smiled softly, giving you a nudge. “Besides, we think you’re for perfect carrying the baby. You’re already glowing just talking about it.”

“You get it,” you said dramatically, pointing at Ingrid like she’d solved world hunger. “Why can’t Alexia see it?”

“Oh, she does,” Mapi said knowingly. “She’s just pretending to be logical about it. She’ll come around. Trust me.”

—————————

The breakthrough came at a team barbecue, thanks to Ingrid and Mapi’s nephew, little Liam, who’d stolen your heart the moment you met him.

“You’re so perfect,” you cooed, holding him close as he gurgled in your arms. “The cutest baby ever.”

Across the yard, Alexia watched you from a distance. Mapi elbowed her lightly, smirking. “You’re staring, capi. You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Alexia muttered, though her gaze softened as she watched you bounce Liam gently.

“You’re thinking about it, though,” Ingrid said, stepping up beside them.

Alexia sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”

“You’re overthinking,” Mapi interrupted. “Classic Alexia. Look, you’re already a leader. A protector. It’s who you are. Being a mom? You’d be incredible. And (Y/N)? She’s ready. You can see it in her face.”

Alexia didn’t answer, but her thoughtful expression spoke volumes.

Later, as you cradled Liam, Alexia finally approached.

“Look at him,” you said, smiling as Liam giggled and reached for her. “He’s perfect. And soon, he’ll have a little friend. Isn’t that right, Ale?”

Alexia raised a brow. “What?”

“Our baby!” you explained, beaming. “He’s gonna have a friend, and they’ll grow up together, and it’ll be so cute.”

Alexia reached out hesitantly, letting Liam grab her finger. She froze, visibly melting at the tiny hand gripping hers. Mapi and Ingrid exchanged smug looks from across the yard.

Alexia sighed, her voice quiet. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said, grinning. “Come on, Ale. Let’s do it. I’ll carry, you’ll be the hot football mum, and Mapi and Ingrid are already fighting to be the godparents.”

“We’re winning,” Mapi called from nearby, raising a beer.

Alexia laughed softly, shaking her head. “Fine.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait. Fine?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling at your stunned expression. “But we’re doing this properly. No rushing.”

“Whatever you say, mamá,” you teased, setting Liam in his stroller before throwing your arms around her. “Let’s go make a baby!”

“That’s… not how it works,” she said, pulling back slightly.

“Oh, right,” you said, blushing. “I knew that.”

Her laughter was warm as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to see you glowing, amor. And for the record… Mapi and Ingrid are not automatically the godparents.”

“We’ll see about that!” Mapi shouted, earning another laugh from both of you.

As Alexia’s hand rested gently on your stomach, you knew everything was about to change. But for the first time, it felt like a change you were both ready for.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main short part 3

Debating if this can actually still be called a short....

Masterpost to find earlier parts, or my other work.

Danny shudders underneath him and grips the front of Jason’s jacket with both hands. They are both about to make the kiss deeper, when Jason hears the sound of Bats surrounding them. 

Jason can recognize that they make for a weird picture. Jason, kissing some man no one else in the family knows, with the Joker’s dead body five feet away. But he just wants to groan at the interruption. He needs to take Danny back to a safe house so he can learn everything about him as soon as possible. 

Maybe figure out how exactly he killed the Joker while he’s at it. Not that the means change anything about the end point, but Jason is curious.  Because as much as Jason wanted to kill the Joker, planned to kill the Joker, would have if it had come down to it, if this night had ended a little differently.

 The Joker did always seem a little unkillable though. He had a way of coming back. Like a cockroach. Jason may have to make sure that they burn the body.

Jason pulls away from Danny before he could continue the kiss, causing a truly adorable pout. Jason chuckles lightly, stepping back and letting his arms fall to his sides. Batman jumps down from the fire escape he was lurking on. He lands directly behind Jason, with a growl of “Hood”, that Jason knew was both a question and a command. Jason ignored it and watched as Robin jumped down as well. 

Robin crouched next to the Joker and did his own assessment of the body. 

“Dead.” The announcement is not a surprise to anyone present. It still brings Jason joy to hear.

“Hood.” An even lower growl than before. Getting more gravelly, Jason is starting to push Bruce’s tolerance for his bullshit.

It’s not funny. It shouldn’t be funny. But Jason throws his head back and laughs. He laughs for a god ten seconds before he calms and glances behind him at Danny, smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. Danny gives a small, nervous chuckle when Jason turns to him, but he keeps glancing between him and Bruce. Clearly nervous about Batman’s reaction to the manslaughter.

Jason turns back to Bruce, and his voice comes out so chipper when he talks it elicits another chuckle from Danny.

“I think we should burn him!”

“Hood!” And this one is as exasperated as Batman will allow himself to get in costume. 

Jason saunters over the Robin, whispering at him conspiratorially “We should maybe do this full-vampire style. Chop him up into pieces and then burn him.”

“I can’t help but agree.” Robin mutters, kicking Joker lightly in the arm. Jason liked this kid before, but his affection was growing. Jason  put his arm around Robin in a quick side hug. 

Robin was not expecting it, which gave Jason a full second before he had to dart away from a knife, laughing. 

“Explain. Now.” Batman’s main focus is on Robin and Hood, but he is also crowding Danny, who looks like he is trying to sink into the wall.

“Hey, leave him alone.” Jason walks back over, quickly, hoping Robin will start with the body while he distracts Bruce. He has faith the kid is good for it.

“What is he doing here and what were you doing with him?”

“Batman, this is Danny.” Danny gives a short wave. “Danny here was startled by the Joker, who confronted him while he was very innocently minding his business. Danny then defended himself against him, and now the Joker is dead.”

Batman gave him a blank stare. “Danny killed the Joker.” It’s flat, but conveys his disbelief perfectly.

“Do you see any bullet holes?” 

“Hn.” Batman grunted, turning to look back at the body. Which Robin might have actually been about to get started on. Jason spares a thought for what they would have donw about all the blood

“Robin!” The shout is sharp, and Robin lowers his knife, despondently putting it back in its sheath. “Robin, bag him and get him ready for transport.”

Robin sighs, but starts doing as he was asked.

Batman turns back to Jason and Danny. “ What were you two doing when we arrived?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Look old man, I know kissing is not unfamiliar to you.” Batman grunts again. “But Danny, my new favorite person,” Jason takes Danny’s hand as Danny smiles at him. “Is my soulmate. Recently discovered, obviously. Just after he did what all of you refused to do for me, and by accident.”

There was a moment of quiet.

“I really didn’t mean to, Batman, I swear.” Danny is still holding Hood’s hand, squeezing it intermittently. Jason squeezes back every time. “Wait, what do you mean they refused to do for you?” Danny peers at the stoic faces of Batman and Robin, before nodding to himself. “Not the time.” 

“Hood, cave for debrief.”

Batman immediately started to turn around, but Jason scoffed. Jason could not believe the nerve actually, gaping a little at Bruce as he turned back around, before turning to look at Danny and then back at Bruce.

“ Hood, I understand the situation, but this is something that must be discussed.”

“B, you can’t be serious! He-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jason and Bruce both shift their gazes over to Danny. “I understand that meeting your soulmate in costume is probably not ideal. You don’t know me, and I’m not going to pretend you trust me yet.” Danny’s entire focus was on Hood.

“Go, talk things out with your group. My name is Danny Fenton. I’m sure you can find whatever you need on me with that. Find me later, okay?” Jason looked upset and it hurt Danny to already to see it.

“I’m okay with getting to know you in a mask if need be. Find my number, text me, call me. I can and will wait until you trust me.”

[andersonfilms]

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 

Maybe she is just an asshole. 

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 

“I’m not—” 

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 

“Kind?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 

“Keeps the nightmares away.” 

All Vi does is nod. 

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 

“What about yours?” 

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 

“Is it true?” 

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 

Hope. 

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 

Vi likes you. 

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 

You chuckle at the pet name. 

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 

— 

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 

“I’m just a little—” 

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 

Oil and water. 

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 

But this? It feels easy. 

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 

A sinner always craves more. 

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 

“What is it?” 

“Was it your first time? The first night?” 

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 

One night. 

Then two. 

Now three. 

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 

She’s still shy. 

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 

“Mommy, please.” 

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 

“I could go again.” 

You chuckle. Of course she could. 

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Thirteen - Arrival

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: After months of waiting, the moment is finally here. You and Jessie welcome your newborn daughter into the world.

Warnings: Difficult labour. Graphic birth. Language.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for sticking with me so long on this journey. And thank you to everyone who answered the poll about the baby's name weeks ago!

The final whistles blew and Jessie braced her hands on her knees as she took a moment to breathe. She looked up in disappointment at the scoreboard, but soon rallied and began high fiving her teammates.

She did her rounds around the pitch with the team to thank and greet the fans and the stadium lights shone brightly by the time she and the team started filtering into the tunnel.

She walked over to her cubby and retrieved her phone first thing. You were days away from your due date and knew to call the staff if you went into labour - they’d get Jessie off the pitch right away - still, she worried.

Two texts from you. No missed phone calls though. That was a good sign.

Jess. Contractions have started.

The midwife’s on her way. Don’t panic. My water hasn’t broken and we know this could be hours and hours. I’ll call if things escalate.

Jessie stood frozen. Her eyes were wide and her phone sat idle in her hand. She didn’t even think she was breathing.

Then, all of a sudden, she snapped back to the moment and spun on her heels in a rush to start gathering her things, inadvertently tripping over the bench and careening into Janine who was standing nearby.

“Hey!” Janine complained as she rubbed her shoulder. Jessie was already scrambling back to her cubby by the time the blonde even turned around.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” Jessie stammered as she shakily threw belongings into her backpack. She rushed towards the exit, belatedly realizing she didn’t have shoes on and cursed, running back.

“Whoa,” Janine frowned as Jessie tried to stomp into her shoes and soon haphazardly tried to guide them on with trembling hands. “Everything good?”

Jessie was short of breath as her eyes darted across the floor absently as she now palmed at her pockets.

“Where are my keys…,” she mumbled as she spun on the spot looking around wildly.

“Jess,” Janine spoke firmly as she waved in the girl’s face, belatedly drawing Jessie’s attention up to her. Janine spoke measuredly. “What’s going on?”

Jessie’s mouth was dry as she opened it to speak, nothing coming out initially. “Y/N-Y/N’s in labour.”

“Oh shit,” Janine said, her own eyes growing wide before more shock settled in. “Wait. When?!”

“I-I don’t know!” Jessie replied, voice and emotions rising. “During the game sometime?” Her words tapered as she absently fetched her phone in an attempt to check the timestamp of your message, but fumbled it onto the floor instead. “Fuck.”

“Okay, hold on,” Janine said holding up both hands. Jessie dodged around her and started tearing her bag apart looking for her keys.

“I have to go,” she said curtly.

“I will drive you,” Janine told her. “You’re…frazzled. Let me drive you home. You can reset on the drive.”

Jessie opened her mouth to speak as she tried to process the offer and the consequences of it. She found herself shaking her head before she could find the words.

“No. I - we need the car. If something goes wrong…,” she trailed off, now digging in her pockets again in vain.

Janine reached out and calmly grabbed keys off the shelf of her cubby.

“Looking for these?” She gave her a pointed look. “I’m driving you. I will drive your car and I can get a ride from one of the girls back to my place. Now let’s go.”

The blonde had Jessie by the arm as soon as she finished speaking and began calmly ushering her out of the locker room, quickly speaking to Sam and communicating the plan as she walked out. The locker room immediately erupted into a buzz of activity at the news, and Janine held up her arm to keep them at bay.

“You’ll get updates soon, I’m sure,” she called over her shoulder. “Baby Fleming will be here soon, everyone. But not too soon!”

Jessie’s heart raced and she peered over her shoulder to see the team wishing her and you luck and to call if you needed anything.

She felt jittery and like her limbs were numb as they walked briskly to her car. As she was getting in she saw Sam running out to her own car saying she’d follow so she could drive Janine back.

“Baby convoy!” Janine announced brightly as she started the car. Meanwhile, Jessie was still short of breath as she fumbled with the seatbelt.

She closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath, finally getting her seatbelt on and feeling her pulse start to even out.

“I can’t believe she didn’t call,” Jessie breathed as she pushed her head back into the headrest, palms braced on her thighs and eyes closed as she worked to steady her nerves.

Janine snickered slightly as she manoeuvred them towards the house.

“Sounds like you’re more panicked than her,” she teased, drawing a dark glare from Jessie.

“Or,” she drew out her word in emphasis, “she’s not taking this seriously enough. How can she be so nonchalant? What the fuck.”

“Get it out of your system, because you’re going to have to be calm and supportive from here on it,” Janine told her. She gave her friend a purposeful look as she drove. "And I know you - when shit gets crazy and there's chaos, you are the calm in all of that."

Jessie gave a shaky exhale before accepting with a few nods, trying to let Janine's words sink in and reassure her. She took one more steadying breath before bringing the phone up to her ear to call you.

The phone rang several times before you picked up. You'd hardly greeted her before Jessie spoke over you.

"Babe, why didn't you call me? Are you okay? Is the midwife there yet? How far apart the contractions? Are you alright?"

So much for calm.

"Jess." You spoke firmly, but patiently waiting her out and forcing a lull before continuing. "I am fine. No, Theresa's not here. Contractions are still 20 minutes apart and only lasting about 40 seconds. I talked to her though. It's just early labour. She'll come when I'm between 5 and 10 minutes, and that could be hours away."

A mixture of relief and apprehension flooded Jessie's system. You were fine. But at the same time, your contractions had started. It was time. And she wasn't there.

"Okay," she managed to say as she forced a smile and hoped it filtered into her voice as well. "I'm on my way right now. I'm probably 10 minutes away."

"Alright," you said. "Drive safe. You don't need to rush - just get here safely."

"Oh, well, Janine-"

"Oh fuck."

"What?" Jessie cut in, alarm cresting inside of her as she sat forward in her seat and her breath caught.

"Um," you said, "my water just broke."

"Oh fuck," Jessie echoed. She held out her hand to calm herself more than anything. "Okay. Okay - I'll be there right away, Y/N."

"Mmnh," she heard you grimace into the phone as a contraction hit you.

"Babe," Jessie said helplessly, leaning her elbow on her thigh and cupping her face. The line was silent and it was killing her. "How bad is it? Are you okay?"

"...Yep," you said through grit teeth. Jessie sighed in frustration.

"Baby, why didn't you call me?" She implored weakly. "I should be there right now. It's just a stupid football game. I love you and I should've been there this whole time with you."

"Mm, if it’s alright with you we can fight about this later. I’m trying to have your baby right about now," you said.

"Fuck. I'm sorry," Jessie said, her nerves immediately settling as she recentered herself. "We're only a few streets away. I'll be there soon, babe."

"I know, love," you said with an audible, drawn out breath. "Okay. It's over."

Jessie found herself exhaling along with you. She kept you company on the phone and soon pulled up to the front of your house.

"Call if you need anything," Janine told her as she got out of the car to give her a hug and give her the keys. "I'm serious."

"Yes, of course," Jessie said distractedly, her eyes focused on the front door and hurriedly drawing herself out of her friend's embrace to get to you. She was halfway down the walk when she turned, walking backwards still towards the door. "You're good to get home?"

"My ride's right here," Janine assured her as she pointed to Sam pulling around the corner. "You've got this! Give us updates when you can!"

"Alright," Jessie said with a series of rapid nods as she turned back around. She gave a vague wave and fumbled with the keys before opening the door. She swung it open and threw her bag down in the entryway.

"Y/N!" She called as she began to search the house.

“In here!”

Jessie spun around and jogged towards your voice. She rounded a corner to see you sitting on the couch, apparently in a fresh set of shorts, a hand on your stomach.

A rush of relief and adoration went through her just upon seeing you. She felt a calm rush over her despite everything. Now she was where she was supposed to be. No matter what happened, you were together and would navigate it all with one another.

She walked over and dropped to her knees in front of you. She hugged your middle as far as her arms would let her and peppered your face with kisses. She jostled as you chuckled and ran your fingers through her hair.

“Hi baby,” you greeted.

“Hi,” she said gently, eyes bright and almost teary as she pulled back to look up at you and take you in. She gave a slow shake of her head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I-”

“Jessie. It’s okay. If I was worried or needed you to rush I would’ve called. We are perfectly okay,” you assured her, holding her gaze. “You know we could be going through this for a long time before something really happens.”

Jessie nodded reluctantly. It was true, but still.

“I just wanted to be here for you through all of it,” she went on before holding up her hands, palms out. “But, let’s move on.” You gave her a grateful look. “I’m here. And I’m not leaving your side. I’m here to do anything and everything you need while you do this incredible work to bring our baby into the world,” she said as she sat back enough to tenderly caress your taut stomach.

Just like their midwife and classes said, early labour was long and tedious. Movies and shows made it seem so sudden and fast, but in reality, at least for you, it was hours and hours of ever increasing pain.

You’d barely slept all night and she knew you were exhausted already, but things were poised to only escalate further; a cycle that would continue to close in and worsen.

As your contractions increased, she felt desperate to help, but was entirely powerless. It broke her heart to see you in so much pain, knowing it was her fault in a way and she couldn’t share the burden at all.

“Ooo,” you breathed steadily and audibly, your hands on your back and eyes closed as you walked in a slow circle in the living room, trying to walk through the pain and discomfort. Jessie trailed behind you, eyes trained on you, watching vigilantly for an opportunity to help or support.

Your steps stilled and your face screwed up in pain. You doubled over slightly, bracing your hands on your thighs and Jessie had her arm around you in a second, supporting your weight to hold you up.

“Mm,” you ground out, eyes still tightly shut and body tense as you rode out a wave of pain.

Jessie rubbed your lower back in an effort to provide some reprieve, however small. “Try not to forget to breathe,” she coached gently, not wanting to dictate things for you or discredit your efforts, but also still try to keep the coping strategies as forefront as possible to hopefully help you.

“Yes, dear,” you said tightly, your irritation not entirely veiled, as you let your head fall back. You breathed despite your complaint and she saw its effects as your body relaxed subtly.

When you’d finally rode out the contraction you went over and sat down on the yoga ball in the room with a heavy sigh and a small groan. Jessie came up behind you immediately and began massaging your back once more, earning a soft moan of appreciation as you rolled your hips back and forth.

“Oh my gosh,” you said. “She’s so low in my pelvis. It’s so much pressure.”

“That contraction was only five minutes apart. I’m going to call Theresa,” she told you as you distractedly nodded. She retrieved her phone and stood to walk a few feet away.

"Please don't go far," you beseeched as you peered over your shoulder at her retreating form. "I need you here."

Jessie turned around right away and returned to your side, placed her hand between your shoulders and began massaging your sore muscles there. "I'm right here, baby," she assured you and you immediately brought a hand up to her wrist, clinging to her and not letting go.

Jessie hung up a couple of minutes later and tucked the phone away in her pocket.

"She's on her way," she told you and you merely nodded again, eyes now trained on the ceiling in focus. "I'll go get you some more water," she went on and cracked a smile for you. "I'll be a minute tops. And I'll make sure it has lots of ice."

When she returned, you took the cup from her gratefully and Jessie knelt in front of you. Your arms came up around her shoulders right away and you leaned heavily on her, moaning and resting your head against hers. Her chest filled with warmth and she kissed your cheek.

You began to wince, another contraction coming on, your arms tightening around her. Jessie leaned up into you to better support your weight.

"Distract me," you told her, voice faintly strained. "Tell me something."

"Um, okay," she said as reached up around you to rub your back as best she could. She wracked her brain, annoyed that it was suddenly blank. Eventually she lit up as a thought popped up.

"Okay. Did you know that mangrove forests are incredibly effective at storing carbon? Up to four times more per hectare than tropical rainforests?" She asked.

You chuckled softly despite your discomfort. "You are such a nerd. I love you." Whatever moment of relief you had quickly dissipated and she felt your face fill with tension once more against her own. "Okay, that kind of worked. Tell me something else."

"Hmm. Alright. Um, in university Teagan and I were in her dorm and - I don't know how it started - but we were competing to see who could balance longer on a basketball. She couldn't even fully stand up, so I, of course, was like, 'Yeah, I can absolutely do that' - I stood up, but went flying a moment later, like feet flying right out under me, the ball shot across the room and and busted this floor lamp and, I just ricocheted off the nearby bed, arms flailing and hitting the floor. So I won - but at what cost," she finished with a short laugh.

"Oh my god," you laughed, before clutching the underside of your stomach with a heightened wince. "Oh shit - that hurts. Okay, nothing funny," you said, though a smile still lingered despite the pain.

"Oh shit," Jessie said with an apologetic smile as she caressed your stomach and kissed your head once more. Her smile shifted into a smirk. "Well, if you didn't want anything funny, you shouldn't have gotten engaged to such a jokester."

You laughed again, wincing once more and nudging her. "Oh yeah, you're a regular comic."

"Um, okay. How about this? Remember how your team invited me to that sustainability event - long before our first date. And I came and we had some drinks and we started talking about [y/favourite show]?"

"Mhmm." You nodded against her.

"And remember how I said I loved that show?"

You nodded once more, still clinging to her.

"I kind of lied," Jessie admitted. She felt your grip on her change and she went on quickly. "I loved it! But I'd just overheard you gushing about it with your coworker on that call we all had a week before, so I binged it and read up on it before the event so I'd be able to talk to you about it. I was only like a season and half in by the event though - so I just read all the spoilers so we could talk at length about it. I was just so nervous and I wanted to make sure I could keep our conversation going and I'd have something interesting that you wanted to talk about!"

By the time Jessie finished your contraction had waned and you leaned back to give her a scrutinizing look that dissolved into a laugh.

"You're ridiculous. I enjoyed talking with you about so many things. Still do. Like when you talk about freakin mangroves." You smirked. "Well, since we're confessing. I did an awful lot of Googling about soccer after I met you the first time. Didn't want you to think I was completely clueless."

Jessie beamed, but it transformed into a mischievous grin a moment later. She shrugged her shoulder teasingly. "I could kinda tell."

"Hey!" You complained as you swatted playfully at her. "I'm in labour," you declared dramatically. "I'm having your baby! You're supposed to be nice to me right now."

Jessie laughed and kissed you. "You know I'd do absolutely anything for you."

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

The midwife arrived and your labour continued. More hours wore on and there were moments where exhaustion threatened Jessie as well, especially coming right off of a game last night, but she pushed it aside to focus on and tend to you. Theresa did force her to take a few breaks here and there, but as far as Jessie was concerned, you didn't really have the choice to take breaks, so neither would she.

"Oh fuck," you breathed as another contraction hit you. The last one had only ended a few short minutes ago and you'd barely had a chance to recover before another washed over you.

You had your hands clasped around the back of Jessie's neck, both of you standing as she supported you while you hung down off of her. You grimaced in pain and your body trembled despite her holding you up. Sweat beaded across your forehead and you were pale.

She held you steady as you rocked, suspended from her shoulders, trying to find any ounce of relief as you rode out the wave.

"I need to lay down," you said in a shuddering voice as the contraction ended. You were weak, struggling to stand up in her arms now and leaned heavily on her as she ushered you towards the bed. She set you gently down on the edge and grabbed a towel to dab at the sweat on your brow.

She and the midwife got you settled onto the bed, a wall of pillows behind you to help you sit up. Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled.

"There's so much pressure," you winced. "Mmh. I feel like I need to push."

"Let's check your progress," Theresa said. Your legs were spread already, the only remotely comfortable position for you right now. "9 centimeters still," she said as she drew back a gloved hand and looked to you both. "Your contractions are getting closer and closer though. You'll be able to push soon."

You groaned heavily, nearly sobbing as your head rest listless against the pillows behind you. "Jessie," you cried her name feebly and she climbed up next to you on the bed in a flash, grasping your hand and holding it tightly.

"I'm too hot," you panted, hand clutching hers and the other clutching the sheets repeatedly in visible discomfort.

"Okay, baby," Jessie said with a series of dutiful nods and went to go grab you a cold, wet cloth, but you tightened your grip on her urgently.

"No, please don't go. Don't leave me," you whined and not even able to open your eyes as you fought through the relentless pain.

"I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you," Jessie assured you without hesitation. A strange feeling came over her at seeing you, this woman who was so stubborn and independent, brought to this point where you were unabashedly clingy and desperate. It made sense and she was happy to cater to you, but it spoke to the level of distress you were in.

She looked to Theresa and the woman waved her off immediately, silently assuring her to stay and leave the task to her.

A clipped cry fell from your lips as a new contraction hit you. You tensed up and all Jessie could do was knead your tired muscles and do her best to serve as an anchor for you in this flurry of physical agony.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. You writhed in place and Jessie could see how you ground your teeth together. She reached up with her free hand to slowly, but firmly rub the center of your chest, hoping to subtly steady your breathing.

It was torture for her to see you like this. Grimacing in increasing pain for hours on end and knowing it was going to get worse before it would get better.

Your whole relationship, her only goal was to make your life easier, softer, more comfortable. And here you were in the greatest pain of your life and it was all her fault. She felt horrible.

"Oh fuck," you eventually whimpered as the contraction seemingly faded. Theresa returned with the cold compress and Jessie took it as she moved in closer to you and pressed it to your forehead. You turned into her and whimpered further.

"You're doing so good, baby," she said as she kissed the top of your head and held a cup of ice chips up to your mouth. You chewed a couple before pushing her hand away.

"Remember how I said I can’t wait until she’s here? I changed my mind.”

Jessie spied the faintest hint of a smirk on your lips. She kissed your head again, amazed that you could find the capacity for some kind of humour during such a time.

You pushed yourself up on the bed further and grimaced again. "Oh fuck." You doubled over in pain once more, clutching your rounded stomach. "I really feel like I need to push."

"You can't just yet, sweetie," Theresa said gently.

You groaned and you tugged on Jessie's arm to pull yourself forward. She watched the movements you were telegraphing and helped you onto your hands and knees. You immediately leaned your head down onto your folded arms, your legs spread wide, belly pressing into the bed as you moaned into the contraction.

Jessie rubbed your lower back and leaned forward to kiss your shoulder. You whimpered in response as you continued to labour on all fours.

You rocked subtly back and forth for several more waves of contractions until you let out a low, muffled yell.

"Jess. Jess - I can feel her. She's moving down," you panted.

She looked to Theresa in concern and the midwife checked your progress once more.

"Okay, sweetie. It's time - you're at 10 cm. When you feel the urge, you can go ahead and push."

You let out a small whimper and straightened your arms as you breathed heavily, preparing yourself. Jessie kissed the side of your head, lips lingering.

"You've got this, my love. You're amazing. You're so strong. I'm right here with you," Jessie said, ignoring the way her own pulse quickened at the prospect of what was to come.

You panted, eyes closed and still in such pain as you awaited the opportunity to push. She leaned forward slightly to keep watch of your face as she continued to knead your back and hips. Only a few seconds passed before your features screwed up and you tensed up, starting to push.

Jessie's nerves were beginning to fray as she realized what was happening.

You moaned as you bore down. Jessie shifted her attention to your entrance, though knowing it would be too early for any signs of your daughter appearing.

"Oh fuck," you cursed. You panted and your arms began to tremble. "S-she's coming Jess. Oh my God."

Jessie found herself smiling for some reason. She looked back up to you, "You're making it happen. You're incredible."

You continued to push until the contraction waned and your body grew limp, Jessie reaching out to help support you.

"That was great, Y/N. Just like that again next time, okay? You've got this. And if you need to change positions you tell us - we're here," Theresa said and you nodded faintly.

The next contraction came and you bore down once more. When it ended, you shook your head. "I need to sit back," you said, palming around looking for Jessie's hand. She reached out quickly to grasp your hand and began guiding you back. "I want you behind me." Jessie nodded and sat back against the pillows and nestled you in between her legs and you leaned back against her chest.

"This okay?" She asked as she pulled you tighter against her. You nodded rapidly, turning your head against her shoulder and burrowing against her as you pulled her arm across your chest and gripped her forearm with one hand, the other hand gripping her thigh.

Another groan fell from your lips as you began to push once more, your fingers digging into Jessie's arm and leg. Jessie sat up with you to help you push.

"You're doing so good," she whispered over your grunts as she gently thumbed your shoulder.

When the contraction ended you melted into Jessie's embrace and she continued to gently caress you. She steadied her breathing as she encouraged you to try to do the same and was pleased when your chest went from rapidly rising and falling to something calmer.

"Oh, Jess. She feels so big. Oh my God," you whimpered as you burrowed your face into her further. Jessie kissed the side of your head and Theresa spoke up.

"You're having a big baby, Y/N. It's going to be a lot of work, but you are prepared, you're doing amazing, and Jessie is here with you to help you every step of the way. You're making progress."

Jessie watched as your face fell and your rolled your head against her shoulder.

"Mmh, how did someone so small put such a big baby in me?" You complained. Jessie could do nothing other than apologize, but to her surprise you managed a feeble chuckle. "She's healthy. She has to be healthy." Your face fell again and Jessie saw emotions taking over.

"She's healthy, babe. You've done an amazing job of growing and caring for her. That's all you," Jessie told you. She was going to assure you further when your hand came up behind her head and you curled inward to start pushing again, pulling her with you as you grimaced and tried to move your baby down.

This time, your groan evolved into a strained yell.

"Incredible, Y/N. She's right there, I can start to see her. You are doing so great, momma," Theresa said.

Your eyes opened and you looked back at Jessie in wonder as soon as the contraction ended.

"Do you want me to still...," Jessie trailed off, uncertainty taking her as she tried to anticipate what you wanted. You'd talked during birthing classes about her being the one to deliver your baby - with the help of Theresa, of course - but if you needed her to hold you, that's exactly what she'd do.

"Yes, yes," you answered quickly as you shifted slightly, wordlessly indicating for her to move. Jessie carefully moved out from behind you, kissing your shoulder as she went and hurriedly propping up the pillows behind you to better support you. Theresa moved aside slightly, giving Jessie an affirming nod as she positioned herself between your spread legs.

She looked at your entrance, lips still closed and the head not yet visible between pushes.

"Here, make sure she's lubricated," Theresa said as she handed the oil over to Jessie. She took it silently and began to massage your lips and perineum with the oil to help your baby move down and reduce the risk of you tearing.

She was continuing to massage you until you sat forward once more and began pushing. Jessie held your leg and you reached forward gripping her shoulder and leaning on her as you grunted.

Her eyes grew wide as suddenly a small teardrop began to form at your entrance and the first glimpses of your baby together began to appear. A rush of elation and trepidation ran through her.

"S-she has hair," Jessie told you excitedly as she looked up at you. Despite your concentration and effort, you opened your eyes to look at her and a feeble smile crossed your face before you grimaced once more and continued pushing.

"Oh my God. Y/N - you're doing it - you're moving her down. I can see more of her. You're doing so amazing," Jessie praised, tears suddenly pricking at her eyes.

"Oh God," you panted, fingers digging painfully into Jessie's shoulder. "Oh fuck, it hurts, Jess. Oh my God," you said as your lips began to slowly bulge and stretch around the burgeoning head. Jessie gently braced your entrance in support at the instruction of Theresa.

"I know, baby, but you're doing so good," Jessie coached you and you fell back, collapsing against the pillows again during a brief reprieve from the rolling onslaught of contractions. She looked down between your legs to see the baby's head had retracted completely within your tunnel again.

"Jessie," you whimpered in exhaustion and frustration.

"I know, love," she said gently as she kissed your knee and then quickly dabbed your forehead with another cold compress again.

Almost as soon as the last contraction ended, a new one started and you leaned against Jessie's shoulder again as you bore down. She watched as the head reappeared, much quicker this time and soon stretching you wider and anew. She applied more oil to your lips and supported them as they pulled tightly around the head as it crowned.

"Oh it's burns!" You cried as your lips were stretched taut around the large head of your baby.

"You're so close, Y/N," Jessie tried to sooth you. "I can see so much of her."

This time, the head didn't retract as your contraction faded. The progress remained, but that also meant that the head was lodged at your entrance, stuck in a crown and stretching you unbelievably wide. Jessie was absolutely in awe of what your body was doing and achieving right now.

During birth class, many of the partners were squeamish and tentative, but Jessie was curious and attentive. She wanted to know what to expect so she could support you as unwaveringly as possible. She wanted to be ready for this moment so she could be present and be there for you in any way you needed.

And here you were, the woman she loved most in the world, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her days with. The moment was here - you were finally delivering your baby here in your bed, the same one she was conceived in all those months ago.

Jessie massaged your thighs as you groaned in pain, legs quivering.

"I-I can't," you panted as you gave a weak shake of your head.

"You can. You're doing so incredible. You are so, so strong. I know it's hard, but you are almost there, I promise," Jessie told you as she leaned up to give you a kiss on the forehead. Your hand shot up to cup the back of her neck and hold her there. She kissed you again. "I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for bringing our baby into the world. You are the most incredible woman. I love you so, so much."

You grunted, leaning forward and curling into yourself in another push.

To Jessie's shock and amazement, she saw your lips stretching impossibly further, the skin now white and bloodless from the tension.

"It hurts so much," you cried helplessly. "It's burning so bad."

The stretching continued until you released a scream and the head popped out with a rush of fluid. You gasped, body jolting at the momentary reprieve.

"Oh my gosh," Jessie nearly cried, hand out supporting the head of her baby and seeing her for the first time. She reached out and grabbed your hand to bring it down to the head as well. You began whimpering, tears forming in your eyes as you felt her and looked at Jessie. "She's almost here."

"One or two more good pushes and your baby will be here," Theresa said with a smile.

When it was time, Jessie saw a new level of focus cross your face and you began to push. She held her hands out, guiding her baby as a slow yell filtered up your throat as the shoulders began to stretch your entrance out.

"You're almost there," she encouraged, ignoring the way your fingers dug painfully into her shoulder.

The shoulders appeared and with a final push, Jessie caught your baby in her hands, a scream coming from you and a gasp from her.

Suddenly, a new cry filled the room. Jessie's eyes were absolutely transfixed on this small, brand new being, wriggling and crying in her hands.

"Oh my God," she breathed as she stared at her daughter. She was here. Finally here. Something that started off as a wish so many months ago was now entirely real. A permanent, physical manifestation of the love you and her had for one another; a perfect mix of herself and you. 10 fingers, 10 toes, a cute little face and a head of dark wispy hair.

"She's here, baby," she said in awe, belatedly aware of the tears streaming down her face as she very gingerly lifted your daughter and oh so carefully laid her on your chest.

You sobbed as you took her and Jessie cuddled in with you both, eyes still not leaving your little girl.

"Oh my God, she's beautiful," you said as you gently caressed her cheek as her strong cries filled the room. "Riley Fleming - we love you so much."

Jessie felt like her heart could burst as she took in every little detail about your daughter. She gave the easiest smile of her life.

"She's absolutely perfect."

A/N: This is not the conclusion of the series; however we are very close. I have two more chapters for you.

[pricesprincess]

t. fushiguro x fem reader x s. kong | 8.3k wc

smut mdni | repost | monsterfucking | knotting

running away is never a good idea, but in this case, it was.

you needed a moment to get away from everything before it drove you crazy. 

your job was the one doing most of it with the hours you had to work keeping you busy and more than tired, so tired you didn't realize your heat was upcoming very soon. 

it would be one of the worst ones yet since haven’t had it in such a long time and without the suppressant that would get you through it, you were royally fucked, being in heat and being single was hell on earth and you hated it so you kept it at bay but at least your feelings and heart were left intact. 

your eyes twitched as you hunched over the desk staring at the computer screen scrolling through the cabins for rent, the place where you could walk around naked and enjoy the peace and quiet by yourself. 

people milled about the work area getting ready for their weekend off but you had put in the request a month ago to take a whole week and a half off. your heats could be tracked thank goodness so you knew the time frame and since you haven’t had one in a while you knew this could last a bit and be intense. 

after enough mindless scrolling you finally found the perfect place, nestled deep in the lush mountainside next to a running river, the description said the sun set and rose through the stained bay window that cast an array of colors over the hardwood floor and had a clawfoot tub with a beautiful view. 

it was a one-bedroom that faced the mountainside with a balcony to enjoy the view and nature next to a dead forest this time of the year, with no neighbors to hear you get off like a nymphomanic. 

the thin walls of your studio apartment didn’t muffle a thing. 

“what are you doing?” your friend and coworker ami asked when she came over to your station leaning against the counter, thrumming her fingers on the marble top. 

you let your eyes drift over to her then back to the computer looking at the pictures, the click sound was something that you were able to drown out since it was something you listened to daily. “getting away.” you replied flatly. 

ami understood all too well as an omega and had enough heats to know what it was like, especially when you have suppressed it for a while, the feeling of when it came on was like nothing else and you needed to be alone for it. 

she leaned forward taking the mouse from your hand to click on another tab with different cabins. “i rented this one for two weeks, it was so nice but the people are close and like to visit.” you looked at it and shook your head. 

your lips drew into a pout as you took the mouse back from her and went back to the one you wanted and filled out the form quickly hoping you could get the slot.

“i don't want to be near anyone, there are woods close by for me to enjoy and the closest neighbor is two miles or more away, which is perfect.” you hummed clicking submit making sure that it went through before exiting the homepage. 

ami stood straight and patted the top of your hand. “you should find someone to help you through the heat, it’s going to be awful since you’ve been suppressing it for so long.” she sing-songed further irritating you. 

you wanted to snap at her, instead, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. “not interested, i don’t need anyone to help me through this plus being mated with someone sounds like hell.” 

it was a scenario that you’ve seen too many times. 

before ami could say anything her phone began to ring on her desk pulling her away from yours to hurry up and answer it. your eyes shifted to the clock again, ten minutes and counting down until you were free for two weeks. 

even though it’s been less than five minutes you opened up your email in hopes of seeing whether or not you got the cabin, every three seconds you hit the refresh button hoping it would be there but nothing but more spam. 

with a sigh, you logged out and started cleaning up your desk stuffing everything in your bag not caring before shutting the computer off. “i’ll see you later!” you called out to your co-workers and made a beeline for the door shouldering it open to hurry up and make it to the parking lot before it rained. 

before work in the mornings, you’d watch the weather channel to keep up with it because more times than not it was always changing. as soon as you got inside the clouds opened dumping rain in heavy sheets coating your car. 

by the time you made it home, the sun had begun dipping below the horizon turning the sky into a burnt orange with streaks of red and yellows that would make a beautiful picture but you had no time for that, with your bag in hand you scurried to your front door thankful for the awning that kept you dry. 

once inside you dropped everything with a soft thud and kicked your shoes off hoping soon that you’d get an email about the cabin, however, seeing that it was almost six p.m. and it was a friday no one would be there to answer the emails but you were excited and ready for a change of scenery. 

standing in front of your wall calendar dressed in nothing but panties while eating ice cream from the small carton you were able to figure out the last heat you experienced was seven months ago and this one was going to be rough, all the built-up hormones were suppressed waiting to be spilled. 

they started to ooze from the cracks and chips leaving you on edge which only irritated you further because you didn’t even want to feel how hot you burned up or how long it’s been since you’ve been laid, almost two years. 

but it wasn’t like you were counting or anything. 

with a heavy sigh, you rested your head on the wall and shuffled toward the living room looking down at the faded slippers you wore, the ones that have seen all of your teenage years, now you were pushing almost thirty and still single. 

plopping down on the equally ratty couch that you picked up free from the internet once you were sure it wasn’t bug-infested, the owners at the time just wanted to get rid of it, trash turned into treasure. 

your eyes tried to stay glued on the tv but it was a fight you could no longer win and ended up falling asleep with your head leaning back and mouth open. 

hours later you jerked awake from the slam of the door that rattled the walls. 

“fuck.” you groaned when you saw the ice cream you had in your hand had melted and dripped down on the floor making a creamy mess, the vanilla looked like cum almost, and perhaps that was just because you wanted a load shot deep inside you, it made your blood run hot but you pushed that back to stand up and gathered your bearings before cleaning the mess up. 

your phone vibrated on the corner of the coffee table alerting you to an email, forgetting the rag and melted ice cream in front of you, you snatched it up and unlocked the screen to read your email for the cabin, the one you wanted was now yours for the entire week, all you had to do was get through was two days. 

the smile that made your cheeks ache couldn’t be wiped from your face no matter what, the place you picked was perfect, and the woods were somewhere you could gather food and you could bathe in the river, connecting with nature would help a lot to get through this heat. 

after the mess was cleaned up there was a pep in your step as you started to pack your bags before heading out to your car stepping in a puddle which usually upsets you, but even that couldn’t bring your day down. 

going back inside you changed your socks and shoes then you made it to your car and pulled out of the parking lot. 

even though it was just two weeks you couldn’t wait to get out of the apartment building you lived in, the too-thin walls sure didn’t help when your neighbor's headboard banged in a creaky rhythm or the couple upstairs who yelled daily. 

you twitched in excitement as you pulled up to the sex shop, you needed a few toys to help get off and you had saved up enough money for a sex doll, well it was only just the abs and the removable cock to fit whatever fit your desire. 

walking inside you looked around and then made a beeline for the other side, the back wall was lined with an array of styles, sizes, and colors. 

you scanned the plastic boxes wondering what attachment to change out for something new when your eyes landed on a werewolf cock, complete with the tapered end and a knot that was already inflated. you grabbed it along with a few more toys then paid for it and left the store counting down until you left. 

with everything put in your trunk, you headed to the store next and bought all your favorite things to eat and drink, along with a few books from the bookstore down the street and some cheap wine to help sweeten the deal. 

it was two weeks of self-care that you’ve been neglecting over the last few months and it was building until it was close to exploding and before you let that happen the cabin was your getaway from your problems that have piling up and you’ve been pushing aside until now. 

excitement filled your veins as you drove back to your apartment. 

once inside with all the bags you packed everything and looked at the clock counting down the milliseconds when you could leave and since you still had a day and a half you caught up on some work, sending emails and making phone calls to regular customers who even caught on to your rare good mood. 

“am i that grumpy?” you muttered when you hung up the phone and leaned back in your home office chair, the damn thing was creaky and soon you’d need a new one but with your current pay that would have to wait. 

another glance at the clock and it was nearing dinner time. 

64.media.tumblr.com

monday morning before the sun had a chance to come to the horizon you were already in your car, fingers twitching as you pulled out of the parking lot ready to leave behind your life for two weeks, and thankfully the ride wasn’t long. 

with your windows down the cool autumn breeze filled the car as you passed by knotty trees with bare branches with thick wet leaves of different colors at the base of the trunk, when daybreak happened it filled the sky with a beautiful orange mixed in with purples and reds that was picture worthy. 

which is usually what you would do, but the only thing on your mind was getting to the cabin and settled in before your heat hit which was supposed to be on tuesday and last until saturday or even longer, but you had worked enough overtime to cover a few more days if needed be. 

you had everything set in stone, this trip was important to you for many reasons. a way to get back into tune with yourself, plus this way no one would bother you or call the landlord when you bounced yourself stupid on a fake cock to quell the burning need for an orgasm. 

the radio played the local station at a low volume as the gps voiced the way to get to where you wanted to be the most, only five miles away from your destination your foot pressed on the gas pedal before turning right. 

your tires crunched under gravel as you drove slowly now to take in the scenery, it was breathtaking and it looked like something someone painted where it hung up for millions to see and oh and awe at it, pulling over you stopped and got out of your car to take a few pictures of the place. 

it didn’t take very long for you to pull up in the driveway, your jaw going slack at the beauty of the log cabin, the pictures did not do it justice, the backdrop for it was lush mountains with a few waterfalls splitting them apart that ended in a stream following the path toward the huge lake no doubt for fishing. 

climbing out of your car you left the bags in the trunk and walked around the place taking note of the firepit and the grill with a few chairs that looked comfortable, your feet crunched over the rocks as you peered into the thick of the woods on the edge of the property when the door opened scaring you. 

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. you ok?” a tired voice asked before revealing themselves, a woman who appeared to be in her seventies came out with a kettle hanging from her thin fingers as she eyed you. 

despite your heart beating louder than a bag of cans rattling around you nodded. “yes, i didn’t think anyone was going to be here…there’s not another vehicle around.” you answered confused about who she was and why she was here, when you got here you thought the owner would be gone.

you sent the payment directly from your bank account so you didn’t have to worry about this, you didn’t want to deal with anyone.  

the woman waved you in and shut the door once you were inside taking in the beautiful interior, almost everything was soaked in a deep red and muted browns, tan leather couches were in front of a large tv and the kitchen was small but it held everything you needed and the hallway only had two doors. 

it was an open floor plan with a large kitchen with modern time appliances. 

you followed her further to the kitchen where she sat the kettle back on the stovetop. “my name is may, i’m the owner. i like to greet people and tell them a few rules, or i suppose it’s to keep you safe.” she explained and poured a cup. 

“it’s nice to meet you. rules?” you asked wondering why it couldn’t be put in the email. 

“i’m glad you made it soundly and yes, rules. you don’t want to go out into the woods after ten p.m. the werewolves come over the mountains and a lot of them aren’t very friendly, they’d eat you up.” 

her voice rattled at the end as may turned to you with a chipped teacup. “thank you for the information, i didn’t plan on going in there unless it was daylight anyway, thank you for accepting my application. it’s very pretty.” 

may smiled taking the compliment. “you’re welcome, this property has been in my family for generations but i can’t live out here, my son will be picking me up,” as if on cue there was a car horn outside, “take care, honey, see you.” 

you followed her to the front door and hurried to check the kitchen windows making sure she got inside and watched as the truck kicked up dust leaving you alone finally for the first time in a very long time. 

after checking for cameras because you could never be sure you went outside in the cool october air inhaling the scent of nature, pine trees, and the dirt which never smelled so good. with your bags in your hands, you brought them inside before settling on the couch with the tea. 

the tv didn’t have much to offer so you shut it off and headed outside to the balcony that overlooked the lake with the sun glinting off the surface it was serene, this was what you needed. it was beautiful and for a moment you thought about moving out there, then thoughts of when you had to leave made you frown but that was two weeks away. 

turning back you headed inside and decided to check out the rooms, the bedroom was first. the walls were painted in that same deep red, with a four-poster bed and a mattress that looked like pure heaven, and a heavy oak dresser with a mirror shaped into a cloud on the other side. 

unpacking everything you double-checked to make sure there were no cameras before moving to the bathroom, it was small but still doable. the shower was a combination, and the sink was big enough to hold your stuff. 

ten minutes later you lay on the couch stretching your legs and looking up at the ceiling letting your eyes close shut eventually falling asleep until evening, when the crickets woke you up and for a moment you forgot where you were, in a panic you looked around and sighed plopping back down. 

after another five minutes, you finally got up to look out the windows only to be met with pitch dark until the outside lights were switched on flooding the front and back lighting the area up. you looked at the clock, it was only seven. 

may said don’t go in the woods after ten, there were still three hours to look. 

grabbing a jacket you pulled it on, shoving your arms through the sleeves before making your way outside, the crickets chirped louder creating a beautiful symphony of nature as the moon shone down casting a soft glow over the woods barely lighting up the mouth which made you nervous. 

broken-off branches from the storm that came through the other night snagged on your pant legs and crumbled beneath your feet as you wrapped your arms around yourself coming closer, a sudden painful howl that ripped through the night air that caused you to stop midstep and listen to it. 

it was a mournful cry tinged with a pain you never felt but you could tell it was a cry for something, may’s words of werewolves living close by rattled your brain, enough to make you turn around and head back inside making sure all the windows and doors were locked before turning the outside lights off. 

after sleeping you opted to make a quick dinner knowing that you’d be awake for a while, once everything was cleaned up you settled in the hot water in the tub watching the steam rise from the milky water, your body wash swirled in with it creating bubbles that lapped at your tingly flesh from the heat. 

seeping in the silence you felt your muscles relax, letting go of the tension you’ve been holding onto for longer than you should. stretching your legs out you used the new and very expensive body scrub that promised it would leave your skin feeling soft and supple, something you needed. 

a lot of your time was going to be spent in bed masturbating until your arm or fingers fell off from overuse and your legs would be spent humping the toy like a brainless horn dog until it was somewhat out of your system. 

you watched the water drain before rinsing yourself off and getting out of the tub with a towel wrapped around you, you stuffed your feet back into your trusty slippers and trudged through the house to grab some wine and settle back on the couch turning the tv on to let it play as background music. 

drowsiness set in again and you curled up in the corner pulling the heavy quilt over you and sat your wine glass down before eventually falling asleep again with the tv on casting a glow over the living room until morning. 

sunlight spilled in from the french doors and the stained glass of the bay window bathing the place in an array of beautiful colors that you stared at when you woke up still lounging on the couch enjoying the sounds of nature. 

pulling yourself off the couch you folded the quilt up putting it where you found it before shuffling into the kitchen to make breakfast quickly and enjoy the bowl of fruit out on the backdoor balcony watching the sun glitter off the water. 

you wondered if it was safe enough to swim in. 

with the bowl cleaned and put away, you stripped naked right in the kitchen and walked out to the balcony letting the sun warm your bare skin feeling the cool breeze harden your nipples, tightening them into hard pebbles. 

after a few moments, you headed back inside and got dressed before pulling a book off the bookshelf you brought from home and making something to drink before heading back outside on the balcony sitting down when you heard them. two male voices talking in hushed whispers not far away. 

your ears twitched as you stood up leaning against the railing watching them as they stayed at the mouth of the forest. they were both tall, one with black shaggy hair and broad shoulders, the other had dark short, and fluffy hair with the same stature as the other but he wasn’t as big as the other man. 

he was the same height although. you watched them with curiosity sniffing the air picking up their scent. werewolves. slowly you stepped back not wanting to catch their attention and retreated inside with a sigh. 

may wasn’t lying. 

you weren’t sure what they were doing until there was a knock several minutes later as you sat on the couch. putting your book down on the side table you headed over to the door looking out the small curtain and seeing the werewolves standing there, looking dead at you. 

“we know you’re in there.” one spoke, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. 

keeping the chain on you opened the door so they couldn’t step inside. toji’s eyes widened for a brief second seeing you standing there looking confused as your eyes shifted between them both, intrigued by their presence.  

he wasn’t expecting any omegas to come this far, especially one like you then his nose picked up your scent. shiu glanced at him and then at you. “we didn’t think may still rented the cabin, sorry for disturbing you,” shiu said. 

“do you need anything?” you asked curiously wondering why they would be here for may anyway, but it was no mistake what they were, the smell undeniable, potent and heavy and musky fur. 

they shared a glance then looked back at you. “no, thank you. have a good day.” shiu told you with a warm smile walking away first as toji lingered for a moment looking at you before following after his friend down the driveway. 

you shut the door and watched them from the window with the curtain lifted to see toji looking back at you with a smile that felt dangerous, his teeth sharp when he pulled his teeth back to show off, his scar splitting in half.

ignoring the interaction you looked at the clock, it was only late afternoon, and after making sure they weren’t in sight, you stepped out onto the balcony with a glass of wine and your book settling in the padded chaise lounge. 

everything felt almost like a dream as you read with one leg propped up letting the sun wash over like bath water when you jostled, rippling it. 

four chapters in and you could hear their voices again, murmuring back and forth about something catching your attention. after marking your page you set the book down and stood up to walk over to the railing looking down. 

“you’re ruining my reading time.” you called down resting your arms to lean over more meeting both their gazes, their lips tugged back in a smirk. 

toji chuckled and slid his hands into his pockets, his thumbs sticking out. “well, we wanted to come and ask if we could have dinner with you.” 

your jaw dropped looking at him with a stunned expression blinking fast as you shut your mouth so hard your teeth rattled. “uh, i don’t think so. i don’t even know you, also i’ve heard of the big bad wolf but just add another one.” 

“my name is toji,” he pressed his hand to his chest then jerked his thumb to his friend, “this is shiu.” you looked at him like that was supposed to magically make you all friends. 

they shared a glance and then turned their attention to you. “we could huff and puff and blow your house down or you could tell us your name.” toji teased with a chuckle that made your blood simmer, his gaze was predatory making you nervous. 

shiu shook his head. “we’re not going to do anything like that, don’t worry.” 

“i sure hope not, it’s not like you could anyway.” you murmured and gave them your name while thrumming your fingers against the railing debating on letting them inside, there was no telling what could happen if you got close. 

but it would be rude not to feed them. 

they watched you walk inside and then out the front door, around the corner to wave them in. “dinner then it’s my bedtime.” you called out and headed back inside heading to the kitchen to pull out a meal you brought from home. 

it was easy to heat up and you didn’t need to cook while here, you could focus on yourself when the time came. toji and shiu followed like it was the millionth time they’d been inside, immediately taking a seat at the table. 

“make yourself at home.” you murmured and put the food in the oven before joining them at the table sitting across from them. 

shiu was curious as to what brought you here and so was toji who asked first unable to help himself. “what’s a pretty little thing doing all the way out here?” he asked leaning back as he held your gaze with a waiting smile. 

you supposed that him calling you pretty would flatter you somehow. “i’m on vacation.” it was the truth, but they didn’t need to know the other reason. 

“or are you running away from something? someone?” shiu prompted. 

this time heat flooded your face as the timer dinged saving your ass. you got up to quickly dish out the plates before taking your seat again to eat. 

for a good while there was a silence that stretched between the three of you as the meal came to an end you collected the dishes and washed them. “thanks for the food,” shiu murmured as he attempted to help you. 

you let him help for a moment enjoying the quiet moment and charged air, something was lingering like a string daring you to play with it and see what happens when you tug on it, pulling open a whole new world for you three. 

once they were gone you finished cleaning up and opted for a warm bath before curling up in bed. the water felt good as you planned your day for tomorrow deciding to go down to the edge of the water with some wine. 

with your chair and a book you could easily spend all day down there, the thought of seeing toji and shiu again made your tummy prickle with heat and something else that ached between your legs like a soft pulse of want. 

shaking the thought from your head you washed up and got out to get dried off and dressed, sleep eluded you for the moment so you ended up on the couch again snuggled up under the quilt as you settled on a horror movie. 

it was nearing halloween and you always enjoyed the thrill of a good flick. 

you sunk into the couch as the movie played out putting you on edge which is what you wanted at first, regret trickled in knowing it was too late to turn it off now and go to bed, there was no way you could go to sleep now. 

changing the channel you settled on some reruns of a reality tv show until your eyes fluttered shut and you fell asleep on the couch again until the morning sun woke you up. 

sitting up you looked around and rubbed your eyes before getting up to get ready for the day, breakfast, shower, and a change of clothes later you ended up at the edge of the lake with your chair, blanket, book, and a glass of wine. 

it was a perfect way to relax which lasted for a few hours until shiu and toji emerged again from the mouth of the trees seeing you lounging there. 

you saw them and raised an eyebrow. “i’m not offering you dinner again.” 

toji chuckled and came closer, stopping a few feet away. “what if we offered you dinner?” he asked with a smile that made your blood thicken and bubble. 

going to their place when you didn’t know the woods wasn’t a good idea, you liked having the upper hand. “i appreciate the offer, but i don’t think i should go into your den.” you hummed and marked your spot with your bookmark. 

last night wasn’t too bad and they weren’t awful company you thought. 

“i did bring a lot of food so if you don’t mind helping me.” you murmured and stood up letting shiu grab your chair as they followed you back to the cabin. 

twenty minutes later the three of you were settled at the table again laughing about exchanged stories, weaving together past and present. toji was a heavy flirt while shiu was subtle about his, both of them making your head feel hazy and warm. 

their smells have been affecting you from your heightened sense of smell, your pulse was racing catching their attention. liquid desire started to simmer in your veins like honey, viscous and sweet producing a potent smell for them. 

the beginning of their rut kickstarted your heat. 

toji’s eyes darkened as he inhaled the scent, rich and heady. 

“you both need to leave right now.” you told them pointing to the door, the sudden change had you snippy. shiu had to push his friend out letting you slam the door behind them quickly in such a rush forgetting to lock it. 

your heat started sending a signal to your brain as slick pooled in your panties that felt drenched as you moved to the bedroom pulling open the box you stuffed with the sex toys feeling a soft throbbing in your womb. 

sleeping with two strangers isn’t what you had planned, especially werewolves when you haven’t mated before and you know what would happen if you let them stay even a second later you’d belong to them.

everything happened so fast as you grasped the first toy, a vibrator. ripping the package open you hurried to the bathroom and cleaned it quickly before crossing the hall into the bedroom to shuck your shorts and panties. 

sitting on the bed you leaned back and spread your legs feeling a deep ache as your pussy fluttered in response to the toy that rubbed against your clit, the ache grew like a vine, your body jolting when you turned it on, the feeling pulling a deep moan from you as you humped the vibrator with little care. 

every wave of pleasure brought erotic images of toji and shiu, taking them both at the same time and then letting one watch while the other jerked off before taking their turn. you wanted them to take turns with you like a toy. 

with a cry, you curled your toes feeling an intense heat bloom between your legs melting into your veins and pooling in your cheeks as you tilted your head back squeezing your eyes shut thinking of all the possibilities with them. 

the wet sound of you pleasuring yourself was loud and lewd as your slick pooled between your asscheeks no doubt dripping to the floor, every time you entered a heat especially one like this your arousal always left a huge mess, and oh how bad you wanted toji and shiu to clean you with their tongues. 

your brain was becoming mush rather quickly with each stroke of your wrist, the vibrator wasn’t doing its job which only frustrated you more than anything. 

with a soft growl, you pulled the toy out sighing, and let it drop to the floor before moving to grab the boyfriend replacer feeling your fingers slide against the material as you tossed it on the bed to straddle the fake thighs while you held the craved abs down flexing your fingers into the soft silicone. 

your head was hazy, filled with lust and the need to cum however you could. 

rubbing against the bulbous head you caught it on the soft opening of your wet cunt pushing it in easily with a soft mewl as you sat down on it with a wet squelch, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

for a moment you wondered if they had strayed far but little did you know that they were at your door, huffing and puffing smelling your slick and heat. shiu fought against everything inside him to kick the door down, but he knew that you hadn’t been claimed and that made his blood run hot with desire. 

toji decided to knock earning a look from shiu who raised his eyebrow. 

you stopped despite your brain telling you not to when you heard the interruption. it happened again and you knew who it was. “come in!” 

maybe that was a mistake but you had hoped that they could alleviate you of this, your brain could only come up with a weak whimper when you heard the door open followed by heavy footsteps and sniffing then they were in the room, the scent of testosterone wafted around them strongly. 

toji was the first one to touch you, his open palm felt hot as he caressed your back then your ass, gripping and groping the flesh. “what was that about us leaving?” he teased with a grin while shiu stepped next to you taking hold of your chin to turn your head to face toji who leaned in with a dark grin. 

you moaned as you ground against the toy staring at toji with a fucked out- look, your eyes glassy with bliss. leaning in you kissed him, your tongue parting the seam of his lips licking into his mouth tasting him whole. 

here you were making out with a stranger. well, the more you think about it you did know a little bit about them, but enough to fuck and take their knots? 

he growled into the kiss and kneeled on the bed to wrap his arm around your waist halting your movements so shiu could reach under you to remove the toy slowly hearing you gasp and cry out from the loss of it. “shh, we got you.” 

your head was hazy from their combined touches and kisses, all rational thought leaked from your ears as you allowed them to lay you on your back, shiu followed you down lying between your legs and inhaling your scent. 

“wait! i haven’t shaved!” you protested with a soft squeal and kept your thighs squeezed shut, albeit it’s been a long time since you’ve been with someone you always remembered them liking you being soft and shaved. 

shiu looked up at you from his spot cocking an eyebrow while sharing a glance with toji. “and do you think that’s going to bother us?” he husked drawing his thumb around your clit watching it throb and swell more in size. 

he leaned in pressing kisses against your hairy slick pussy, his thumbs glided against your lips as he spread you open to swirl his tongue around your swollen clit eliciting a moan from you while toji watched from the side. 

“toji..” you glanced at him reaching your hands up to grab him and pull him down, your fingers running through his hair tugging on it as you brought him closer, clinging to him for dear life as shiu slowly thrusted two fingers in you. 

you gasped into toji’s mouth rocking your hips against shiu’s mouth as you reached down to slide your hand into his pants, brushing your hand against his cock that was already lubed with a thick copious amount of pre-cum. 

toji was thick, the knot was huge even when it wasn’t inflated and you couldn’t wait to feel it. you glided your fingers up to the tapered end, rubbing your thumb over the slit before tugging his pants and boxers down revealing his throbbing cock, the girth was incredible and it was beautiful. 

a deep purple with a few veins on the sides and one prominent one that pulsed and led down to a heavy and tight sack that you cupped gently. 

the room was filled with pants and soft growls as you pulled away from toji to focus on shiu now, your hands buried in his hair as you rode his face letting toji suckle on your nipples only adding to the pleasure simmering in your veins. 

you felt warm and tingly all over as shiu stroked his tongue up and down between the lips of your cunt as his fingers brushed against your sensitive spot making you howl and arch your back off the bed while toji kept his mouth busy on your breasts bringing forth a wave of intense pleasure. 

your first orgasm was almost violent, stealing the air from your lungs. 

after denying yourself heat after heat it built up and you were soaking the bed and shiu’s face who lapped up the mess with a satisfied growl sliding his free hand under your ass to hold you close as he devoured you whole moaning. 

it was wet and so loud causing you to cover your face as you squealed and pushed him away. “give me a second!” you cried in between ragged pants. 

toji chuckled and palmed your tit as he jerked himself over your chest. “such a good girl for us. we want to make you our little omega.” he whispered darkly watching you come down from your high with a smug grin. 

agreeing to that idea wasn’t smart but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“please!” you begged tilting your head back for them while gripping the bedsheets in excitement at the prospect of it all, you didn’t think about the future, just now and how good they were going to make you feel. 

so much was going on and you couldn’t keep it all together as you weathered the storm of bliss they put you in the middle of, thick fingers danced their way across your skin pulling and groping to bring forth more of your sweet sighs. 

shiu moved to kneel between your legs spreading them wider to reveal your glistening cunt causing his cock to twitch. he was the first one to get naked, revealing a hairy body with a full bush of soft pubic hair. “see?” he murmured and jerked himself off with no shame as you watched with a cute little pout. 

toji was next, both men were full of hair, curly and thick. instantly you sat up and buried your face in shiu’s chest then toji’s brushing your cheeks against them. “i don’t care who fucks me first just please do something before i die.” 

your voice was high-pitched and whiny but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care much when all you wanted was to feel their knots and cum a few more times. toji chuckled and slid his arm under your knees to push them back further. 

he pinned you down to let shiu rut his dick against the lips of your pussy, his tip gliding against your clit making you sigh and growl as you gripped toji’s hand feeling tears sting your eyes before coming down in fat salty drops. 

“oh, poor baby. she’s crying.” toji chuckled watching your eyes widen and jaw go slack when shiu pushed the tapered head inside the first ring of muscle as his hands moved to the back of your thighs gripping the flesh. 

you could see him gritting his teeth, grinding the pearly nubs together feeling the way your cunt swallowed him, wet and oh so fucking warm. the velveteen ridges of his cock felt incredible throbbing deep inside the drenched clutch of your pussy that looked so pretty wrapped around him. 

his head hung low to watch himself slide in and out slowly gathering your cream until it formed a ring that dripped down shiu’s knot that grew with each frantic thrust of his hips, he fucked you wildly as toji held you in place for him. 

the bed creaked as shiu dropped more of his weight down pressing into you more. “fuck!” you cried out when he slipped his knot inside, each pulse of your cunt sent him into a tizzy as he fucked you slow and with short and deep thrusts that left you gasping and clinging to him for dear life while sobbing. 

shiu knew how to have you gripping his bicep looking at him with wet eyes before his cock was spurting thick ropes of cum that matted between your pubic hair making a white mess in both of your hair. 

pulling back a little they helped you straighten your legs before wrapping them around shiu kissing him as you and he came down from your highs enjoying the afterglow of such an intimate moment before you looked at toji. 

“was wondering when it was going to be my turn sweetheart.” he murmured and twisted his body to grab your bullet vibrator with a wicked grin as he pet your hair kissing your forehead as shiu held you close to him, his knot now deflated enough to pull out making you whine with the loss of him. 

toji took his spot and turned the toy on. “sure you can even handle me?” he teased looking down at your gaping cunt that was covered in shiu’s essence. 

you narrowed your eyes at him and nodded pushing out another thick glob and sat up to grab his hips pulling him forward with a burst of strength before plopping on your back again. “stop teasing me…i need you so bad, toj!” 

that’s all it took for him to press the end of the vibrator against your clit making you gasp and jerk as he rubbed the tapered tip of his cock against the cum collection wanting to add his own. it was easy for him to glide in you. 

his hand found yours, linking your fingers with his as he leaned down to kiss you forgetting shiu who was kneeling next to you both, his eyes trained on you intently. it should be shameful to let this be happening but you didn’t care. 

not when it felt this good. 

you grasped his shoulders feeling hot white pleasure sizzle before blowing up like fireworks with each stroke, with the way he was filling you your head was so hazy, all you could do was babble about how good he felt inside you as you clawed at his shoulders desperately trying to stay tethered to the bed. 

there was now an even bigger and wetter mess between your legs, a thick frothy mixture of cum webbed between toji’s hairy thighs and the back of your legs that were warm and sticky from sweat as you rocked against him. 

his teeth nipped your bottom lip as he kissed you deeply, inhaling you like you were the air he needed to breathe, one big hand squished your cheeks together as he teased you with the vibrator making you cry out for him. 

toji wanted to feel you coming around him, he needed you again and again. 

before you could warm him your cunt spasmed around him drawing the tip of his cock deeper, nestling it right against your cervix. your eyes locked and you swore that your hearts beat in tandem as he thrust in and then came, filling you with a thick and hot load that seeped from the knot that plugged his cum. 

you clung to him panting and sobbing from the sheer ecstasy that washed over you as your vision cleared to see shiu smirking. “you two forgot about me, how are you feeling doll?” he asked bending down to pat your forehead with a cool rag making you sigh and moan from it as you kissed him gently. 

“hard to forget you.” you murmured against his mouth with a drunken giggle as you slid your hand up to the back of his neck to keep him there for a moment as you peppered his face in kisses and laughs as toji held you. 

the three of you stayed like that for a while until you were able to move on your own to get in the shower where they washed you in tandem. toji took to the top half as shiu took the bottom making sure to rinse the cum splatter off. 

they washed you with great care kissing you. “how does this work?” you asked squeezed in between their firm and hairy pecs grasping at the curly roots with a grin. 

toji held your hips as he kissed the top of your head while shiu brushed the sides of your breasts with his fingers. “hope your place is big enough for the three of us,” toji murmured with a chuckle making you warm at the thought. 

no way that would happen. you’d need a bigger place. 

“i live in a studio apartment, it’s just one room with a small restroom. we’d be cramped.” you murmured and turned around to face toji holding his arms. 

he moved his hands to your waist pulling you closer to him. “on top of each other all the time.” his voice dropped down to a husky whisper as the warm water cascaded over you, with with wet lashes you met his heated gaze. 

“something like that.” you murmured feeling shiu grope your ass now. their ruts were kicking in again and there was no denying the connection anymore. 

64.media.tumblr.com

three days in and you were sure there wasn’t a single inch inside and outside of the cabin you didn’t get fucked on. 

it was hard to pick your favorite. 

when you rode toji outside on the lounge late in the evening with the sounds of the waterfall in the background along with the wildlife and that night he was in his full werewolf form, his fur was soft and a good tether as you fucked him. 

you felt so full with him in this form and connected in a way you never felt with anyone else. in between all the fucking you three talked a lot and spent time together cooking and sleeping in the same bed. 

he nosed at your neck holding you close with thick arms, his claws close to digging in when you clenched your cunt tightly around him. “you feel so good, want you to cum in me please please toji i need it.” you begged softly crying. 

toji licked your tears as he pushed you all the way down on his knot that swelled once it was nestled deep inside, snug and tight keeping you plugged with his cum that he fucked deeper as he ground against you quickly. 

you clung to him and let him knot you again unable to count the many times he has claimed you, in his human form and this one. when he was like this, toji was hulking and beyond huge, able to bend you this way and that way. 

so was shiu. 

that’s how he had you the next morning with your face buried in the couch cushions as he mounted you in his werewolf form panting loud and wet in your ear fucking into you like a rabid animal chasing his high ramming into you with short choppy thrusts that took away your breath with each rut. 

he loved to hear you squeal so while he pulled out he enjoyed using the nipple clamps you brought. shiu tugged on the metal chain feeling your cunt squeeze as you squirmed and gasped pushing back against him with a grunt. 

they both had to have their noses buried between your legs, even at dinner one of them was under the table lapping at your pussy while the other attempted to hand-feed you, their fingers grazing your tongue making it hard to focus on anything else. “you’ve been so good for us, you’re ours now.” 

one time they were both able to slip inside your cunt stretching and filling you to the brim. “you’re taking us so well, and big stretch coming. you got this.” shiu murmured in your ear as kissed you shushing your cries and pants. 

it was an addicting feeling to have them both fucking you, and after training your ass with the toys you brought shiu fucked you from behind as toji thrust in and out of your cunt lazily feeling himself rub against shiu. 

by day six your cunt was sticky no matter how many showers you took, it was gaping with cum, dripping from the parted seam of your cunt. shiu and toji took turns cleaning you with their tongues until you nested against them. 

at the end of the trip, they had brought their belongings stuffing them into your car along with your bag, and went home with you unable to break the connection that they created in the matter of a single night that led to this. 

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing this thing is my baby! i took my time reading and rereading it to make it extra good jkfrt ♡

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 6

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT!, soft, fluff, sick reader, soft dean, fingering, teasing, intimacy, love is in the air, confessions, naive sam, awkward and touch starved dean

Word Count: 14.9K (huuuuhh)

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Deathbeds' by Bring Me the Horizon Click for Series Masterlist!

When you said those three words in the most forceful yet gentle way possible, Dean's eyes widened in surprise. There was a long, heavy stillness now. As you recovered your calm, you realized you were holding your breath and examining every facial expression. Only surprise was there. His lips parted as though he was looking for something to say as you let go of his hand and turned around, tidying up the mess. Your heart was racing so hard that you didn't want him to say anything at all. All you wanted to do was flee and scream because you felt foolish and reckless.

Since the night you allowed him to touch you, you have done everything in your power to keep your friendship intact and stay healthy. It was absurd how simple it was to sever your relationship with just three words. They were sincere, though. There was no turning back now. In reality, touching each other in the most intimate way could never repair what you had broken down. You had feelings for him for a long time, but it would be simpler if you had no feelings at all.

Even though you repeatedly reminded yourself that you didn't want Dean to treat you like any other hookups, you didn't want that. You wanted to feel taken care of and at least somewhat liked by him. You wanted to be special for him and get intimate. 

You could now see, though, how self-centered you truly were about it. Even though you didn't intend to be truthful with him about your little secret, you should have been honest from the very beginning. Without hesitation or second-guessing, you told him how you truly felt, and there was no way to undo what had happened. With your heart pounding, you quickly walked to Sam's side after gulping without looking back at Dean. You believed you were having a heart attack or something because of how quickly and powerfully your heart was beating against your chest. 

Your coworker looked at Dean and you strangely, as though she had detected something, and Sam was staring at you both with the same bizarre look. However, when he saw Dean's hand covered in bandages, his face shifted.

As you assisted him in getting up with Dean, you questioned, “How did you even manage to hurt yourself like this?” You didn't look back at Dean, but you could feel his gaze on you. 

“I guess I was being a little too confident,” he moaned painfully. You nearly laughed when you saw Sam's puppy face. He said, “Dean, are you okay?”

There was a strong desire to flee without turning around. You could throw up there because your heart was beating so hard. You were feeling nauseous from that overwhelming feeling. In fact, you were feeling ill. It didn't matter if being honest was important; you were now doomed. You were lying to yourself; it was completely unnecessary for you to display such bravery by saying it. Saying such things in a hectic situation was easy, but how could you now look Dean in the eye from now on?

You may wish to think about moving as soon as you can. To avoid Dean, it would really be preferable if you spent the night with Robb. God, why would he ever come to the hospital and say things like that to make you feel weak and make you say such things? He should have understood how his words and behavior affected you.

“I'm...alright,” Dean murmured quietly. His voice was a quiet whisper as he spoke. You legs felt shaky.

“You both are okay, but careful with the wounds,” you managed to murmur before Sam carefully stood up. 

As Dean assisted him, Sam grumbled in a concerned tone, “You look horrible. You're working a lot nowadays. It is important that you take some time to yourself, right? Just to rest a little at least. If you quit working, the whole country won't just die. You know, you can come over tonight. Dean would prepare dinner for the three of us. Well, I can invite Ruby, too. We haven't spent a day together in a while.”

You've never felt more miserable in your life than when Dean looked at Sam. Even though you heard noises coming from Dean's room when Jo was with him weeks earlier, you thought you would never feel so bad. You were wrong. That was the worst. Without attempting to ascertain Dean's thoughts at the moment, you said hastily, “You're... right, but I'll be working some time more, and I'll think I'll have some rest afterwards.”

Sam waited for Dean to break the tension and convince you, although you did look a bit uncomfortable. When Dean didn't speak or interrupt, Sam was perplexed, which made things a little awkward. Sam gave a sigh. “Okay. You are welcome to visit whenever you like. I'm just saying, Don't ignore my texts.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said, attempting to lighten the situation by caressing his wound, but he made a sound of pain. It was impossible to change the atmosphere between you and Dean, but you hurried away as if you had been saved when you were called in to see another patient. 

After some time, you sipped some water, but your stomach hurt and your throat still felt dry. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, yet it wasn't because you were hungry or too exhausted to stand. You tried to convince yourself that there was nothing wrong with your body and that you just needed to get some sleep after washing your hands and face.

Though you were ready to exit the restroom, you started throwing up. You attempted to hang on somewhere, but the bitter taste made you gag more. This time, you found yourself crying when you began to throw up. Perhaps it was a result of all the stress you were under due to the past few days. You simply felt dreadful. 

You heard someone say, “Oh my god,” as she placed a hand on your back and massaged it as though she wanted to soothe you. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded hastily, embarrassed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your gut. “I am.” As you proceeded to puke into the closet, tears streamed down your cheeks. Your colleague's hand continued to touch your back as your knees brushed the dirt off the floor. You were too focused on yourself to pay attention to the questions she was asking.

“Are you pregnant?”

When you attempted to tidy up yourself, you stated, “No!.”

“Really,” she said in a worried voice as she glanced at your lower abdomen. “You were just doing okay, you know.”

“Really, I'm not pregnant. I'm sure,” you attempted to persuade her. “Not much happened recently. I suppose I'm just a little unwell.”

While others entered the restroom and departed after they gave you odd looks, she nodded and helped you with cleaning up. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you sobbed softly, embarrassed by your body's reaction to Dean's overwhelming presence. You were aware that it was only psychological. You were already exhausted and were making every effort to suppress everything that had been causing you days of anxiety. At last, your body had surrendered and rejected your indifference.

You said, “I guess I just need some break,” before she asked any more questions. “I shouldn't have put in so much work in the first place.” She gave you a short nod and rubbed your arms.

“Well, I suppose not. You should not overexert your body, as you are aware of this. Your eyes beg you to go for a nap. How you were able to keep upright for so long is a wonder.”

“Yeah.” You smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you. I believe I can handle myself now.”

Taking a quick glimpse in the mirror and realizing how pale your face appeared, you washed your mouth and face to get rid of the awful taste and smell. She gave you more advice, but shortly after, she exited the bathroom while you cleaned your face and agreed with all she said. You were hoping to take a seat on the floor and unwind for a while. But you knew that all you needed to do was return home and shut yourself off from the outside world.

Dean wasn't chatting as much as he used to, so Sam complained a little on the way home. When Dean reminded him not to get carried away on hunts, he sounded harsh, but Sam ignored his erratic attitude. The ache in Sam's abdomen was making him goran in pain. God, that would take a while to heal. Fortunately, Dean would recover soon enough. His hand was going to heal far more quickly.

Given how silent Dean stayed, Sam couldn't help but think about how you two had been acting somewhat strangely this past weekend. He pondered; maybe Sam didn't see it properly since something happened between you two. Sam followed Dean as he sat on the coach, seeing him put his fingertips to his lips and lose himself in contemplation, dwelling on things Sam couldn't anticipate. Sam pretended to be fiddling with his phone as he watched his big dumb brother play with his lips and ruminate.

In the meantime, Dean pondered over the three words you told him as though they were the simplest to utter aloud. Dean's heart constricted as he continued to reflect on the day he unknowingly took your virginity and made the first move. He was trying to figure out what was going on between you and him by replaying the same scenarios in his mind, but he was drowning in uncertainty and a flood of emotions.

He was no longer able to recall why he had made the first move weeks before. It didn't make sense to blame each other for ruining your friendship. Now it could not be fixed. In separate ways, each of you was guilty. But why he didn't care about that at all was beyond Dean's grasp. 

Dean became irritated with himself for not seeing you clearly when he recalled certain specific memories involving you. Perhaps it was always obvious—you were obvious—but he had inadvertently missed it. The three words that left your lips and the way you placed them into expressions without hesitation were replayed in his head while Dean's fingertips brushed his lips and he took a long, deep breath. He was aware that you were always fearless when hunting and all, but he thought that since you avoided getting to know people, you would be afraid to let them in.

Dean believed you.

It would be foolish of him to try to disbelieve you. You were the most genuine and kind person he had ever come across. He smiled quietly to himself, knowing that you had given yourself to him without expecting anything in return and that he was genuinely loved. Though impulsive and free-spirited, Dean was different this time. He felt no regret for it. But he could not yet pinpoint what it was that was making him both excited and annoyed.

“What's wrong with you?” Dean jumped when Sam spoke suddenly. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he was unaware of it. 

When Dean noticed he was bleeding his lips from playing them so wildly, he scowled. His body stiffened. “Nothing.”

Sam was obviously unaware of the situation between you and Dean, but it wasn't because Dean was unwilling to divulge information until certain issues had been handled. He didn't want to add to the awkwardness of the situation.

“Don't lie to me,” Sam grumbled bitterly. “It's obvious something is wrong with you.” In annoyance, Dean rolled his eyes. “With you and Y/N, actually.”

As soon as Dean heard your name, his body tightened, and he flexed his muscles while staring at Sam with his arms folded across his chest. Sam was getting ideas from his silence that were difficult to verbalize. After all, you were friends for a year. However, Sam was aware of his big brother's greedy need to date and sleep with each woman he encountered. Sam breathed, disturbed by the pictures that flooded his head. He had to ask and needed Dean to say no, even though he wasn't eager. 

Dean's eyes widened as Sam put a hand on his forehead as if he wasn't ready to hear the answer, and he asked, “Did you sleep with her?” 

He warily observed his big brother's facial reactions and the way his lips were parted to defend himself, but Dean's words remained in his mouth. Dean finally began, “Why-” but Sam groaned in annoyance as he realized he was right about everything that he thought was inappropriate. 

Sam muttered, “I can't believe you,” in disbelief. He was aware that his brother had always been a playboy and Casanova, but he had hoped that things wouldn't work out with you as well because Sam knew you were looking for something deeper and serious as Dean was in passionate relationships only that didn't last very long. Sam simply knew that Dean hadn't been looking for love lately, even though his brother wasn't that incapable of loving someone or anything. Dean just wasn't searching for anything serious. Sam knew that.

You were different than him about that for sure.

Dean's stance changed as he inhaled deeply, feeling more like the younger brother. His uncertain expression faded. He finally stated, “We are not some goddamn teenagers,” in a firm voice, while dismissing Sam's remark. 

Once Dean basically confirmed what had happened between you and him, Sam folded his arms over his chest as if he were about to deliver a lecture. “What the hell, Dean? We've been friends with her for a while. More than a year, in fact.”

“And?” Dean almost said something even more offensive, like “was being for a year supposed to stop his dick,” but he restrained himself. 

“What do you mean 'and'?” Sam shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “Are you the cause of her recent behavior? It's not her style to work that hard, disregarding interactions and other things.”

Dean had been thinking about the same issues. Of course. But Sam's words struck him hard, causing him to squirm uneasily on the coach. He remained silent and wished Sam would simply stop bothering him. He needed to think about what he should do going forward to avoid making things worse. 

“Possibly.” Dean didn't deny.

“Did you friendzone her?”

“What the heck is it supposed to mean?” Irritated at the word but unsure of its exact meaning, Dean snapped at last. It sounded neither pleasant nor lovely. It was quite hostile. He became irritated at Sam's tone, which suggested that Dean had done something wrong. 

Sam added clumsily, “I mean, you know afterwards,” while Dean waited for him to finish speaking and glared at him. “Did you discuss it? Was she comfortable with it being a one-night stand?” As if he were a teenager, Sam flushed when he spoke about you and Dean in that way. He wondered if Dean had discussed it with you at all. 

“It wasn't a one-night stand,” Dean immediately opposed his brother's hint. 

“What was it then?”

“Not a one-stand obviously,” Dean said in defense. He hoped that his brother would stop asking questions about things that were no longer of interest to him. Dean declined to divulge your little secret or the events of Halloween night to Sam. It was about you and him, and Dean needed to figure it out by himself.

“It was just heat of the moment, then?” Sam made a suggestion, as if he wanted to help his brother open up and understand him. Given how much you've been ignoring him and Dean lately, Sam would not discuss this with you given that he plainly believed you wouldn't be keen to talk about Dean at this time. If you wanted to, you would talk about it already.

“No.”

Sam sighed and acknowledged that his brother wouldn't be quite so easy to break at this time. “For gods sake, Dean,” he mumbled. He wondered if Dean even knew what he was doing. “How do you manage to do complex things when they are so easy to resolve?”

Dean replied, “You wouldn't get it,” with seriousness.

Taking a few snacks from the kitchen, Sam remarked, “Well, I think you're the one who don't get a shit.” The tiny struggle that his brother was experiencing almost made him chuckle. But given what a mess you were, it was readily apparent that Dean was the reason you were suffering. “Does she like you, or do you even like her?”

After turning his head away from Sam, Dean got up and left for his room to avoid getting any more questions and to give himself some space to thoroughly think about how to handle this matter. While his brother was clearly perplexed and waited for a response, Dean remained silent. Still, Dean was also in a difficult situation. After everything that had transpired between you, he wasn't okay with the idea of tossing you away. It was never his intention and would never be.

He cared about you.

As he sat on the bed with his phone in his hands, his pulse was pounding, recalling how you expressed yourself when you truly told him you loved him. Dean was aware of your earnestness. He was too shocked to talk when you left him stunned in the hospital, but now he felt different, as though the purity of your words had somehow roused something within of him. It was incredible how you could always get under his skin in every manner with only basic words.

Knowing that you cared for him for a long time and that your love for him was so gentle that he didn't even notice it until you finally spoke your true feelings made Dean chuckle. He felt compelled to look after you because he felt a stronger, warmer, and deeper connection even though he had taken your virginity. It wasn't about that night. 

Dean liked you.

The reason he took you that night was more than just intense lust. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, and be with you all the way. Even if he was unaware of it when he was with Jo, something had clearly changed in him after that night. Perhaps his intention was to hide something and pretend that you were the same. It wasn't.

You remained the same, but he had changed.

Putting down his phone, Dean undressed and decided to take a shower, as if that would solve. He wanted a little more time to think about you while taking a cold shower. Dean thought about what he should do, knowing that he would have to wait until your shift ended. It would be disappointing if he chose not to speak up with the same courage that you did. You were both grownups, after all.

After driving home, you got inside and promptly put everything you had on the coach. Every part of your body hurts, including your back and stomach. You could no longer throw up, but there was a revolting taste in your mouth that nearly made you puke with disgust. There was nothing left in your body, though. Before taking the medicine, you tried your best to eat something. Once you entered your room, you were under the covers without even changing your clothes. Though you thought you would be fine sooner, your legs were trembling a little.

In simple terms, your body had finally given up because you were so overwhelmed by all that had happened over the past weeks. You reasoned that vomiting might be a metaphor. Your body was working hard to release all of the stress and negative energy that you had long disregarded. After all, you were a nurse. Nobody understood your physique as well as you did.

You tried to persuade your body to go to sleep by closing your eyes, but your mind tricked you by keeping you preoccupied with Dean. You couldn't get him off your mind. His eyes, his touch, his smile, his voice, his face... You couldn't help but yearn for him. That was sick. You needed him so badly.

You used to look after him while he was unwell. You were happy to care for him and did everything in your power to help him recover, not because it was your job. You wanted him to know that anyone could love him and that Sam wasn't the only one who cared for him. You never performed them in order to receive something in return.

But it hit you in the gut when you realized you had no one to look after you. You started weeping in bed as soon as your eyes began to well up. You were unsure of whether you sobbed because you were sick, lovesick, or because of Dean, or because you were in dire need of compassion and no one was there to provide it. It didn't matter why. One by one, you wept for each one.

In order to call Dean right now, you wish you hadn't told him you loved him. You wanted him to come over and stay with you until you felt better. You had to deal with things on your own, whether you had the energy or not, because you had done the most ridiculous thing in your life—telling him you loved him. Your body failed you even if you took several medications.

You were so overcome by your feelings and weary of crying that your frail body finally gave way to sleep. Even though your body ached, all you could think about was Dean.

Dean realized you must have returned home by now after keeping himself occupied with his car and weaponry. Since the morning, you have been on his mind constantly. Even when he peed, ate lunch, and in other situations, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You seemed to be in his veins in some way. However, Dean didn't whine about it. Dean was pacing the room, unsure whether or not he should have texted you. He occupied himself with his searching after taking a shower and made the decision to meet you.

After taking a long breath, he put his hand on his hip and straightened his posture before calling you. Even though he wasn't sure what to say, he planned to have a proper conversation with you and to offer eating dinner outside. You used to stop by several nice locations months ago. He hoped you were hungry.

Once Dean saw that you weren't very eager to pick up his calls, he scowled while he waited for your answer. Nevertheless, he patiently waited for you since he didn't want you to believe that he was reaching out to you in vain. You still avoided responding even though he was stubborn.

Whispering to himself, “Come on,” he waited. His uncertainties vanished and were replaced by curiosity. Dean pondered if you were cutting off him from your life entirely, ignoring him, or being too embarrassed to answer his calls. That would be ridiculous. Dean didn't believe he had done anything to encourage you. You were doing okay up until now.

Dean was abruptly irritated by your choice to tell him how you felt and to not allow him to react, making all of the decisions on your own and leaving everything up in the air. With a decision made, he exited his room, placed his phone in his pocket, and got into his car. Since the morning, he had been experiencing some worry and a slight lack of confidence. But suddenly it was all gone. Everything would be resolved once you could work things out and have a straightforward conversation.

When Dean noticed that every light was on, he patiently waited outside before calling you again. He wondered whether you were deliberately making him irritated by being so insistent. As he unlocked the door with the keys you handed him a month ago, Dean took a deep breath and felt proud of the trust you placed in him. That trust was something he prayed Robb or no one else did not have. He desired it all for himself. Sharing was something Dean disapproved of.

Feeling like a teenager, Dean's heart pounded wildly on his chest as he entered your house. You were nowhere to be seen in his sight. Disturbed, he called your name while acting awkwardly. Hiş voice came out softer than he had anticipated and refrained from calling you in an affectionate manner, with lovely nicknames. He had no idea how much he wanted to establish a fresh relationship with you until now.

As soon as Dean saw your bag on the coach, he became stiff and worried. He wasn't happy with the silence. With a brief glance around, Dean came inside your room without knocking. There was nothing to hear in the home except the creaking of the door. He observed your sleeping body after he turned on the lights.

A ghostly smile came on Dean's lips as he took a big breath, his heart so full of relief. But as soon as he saw you were humming in your sleep, his smile vanished. You weren't sleeping peacefully; it was apparent. You appeared to be in agony or suffering from nightmares.

With a swift motion, Dean sat down on the bed and instantly placed his palms on your forehead to take your body temperature. You weren't okay, but it wasn't like you were burning. He placed his palm on your warm cheek again and gently said your name to wake you.

Your eyelids slowly opened as you felt rough hands dancing across your flesh, but initially you were unable to see who was caressing you. Yet you recognized that sweet voice. You searched for strength as you started to come to your senses.

“Dean?” you eventually managed to whisper. You groaned in disdain at the irritating taste in your throat. Your body and spirit had finally been overtaken by the illness. Your body felt very little at that time, and you were so weak and lazy. The air was so chilly that your fingers clenched around the blanket.

This time, he mumbled, “Hey, sweetheart,” with worry. You had no idea if your mind was playing ridiculous games with you. Perhaps that was your brain's way of safeguarding you to feel a bit better. You tried to open your eyes, but you were unable to tell the difference between hallucinations and the real world.

You just mumbled something, but your own ears couldn't even hear it.

He said, “I've been calling you for hours,” at least to get you to wake up and start a conversation. “Have you gotten cold? Why didn't you give me a call?”

Despite Dean's best efforts to get you to speak, you only sighed in a whisper and fell back asleep. Remembering how professional you were when he was ill in the past, he felt powerless and was unsure of what to do at the moment. But he could tell you were cold just by the way you looked. Raising Sam taught him things that only parents and doctors should have known. It must have been brought on by working so hard without resting.

He called your name again, but this time you fell asleep again without even letting out a small moan. You gasped as he gently stroked your face and then pushed the cover away. “Come on,” he replied, insistent that you didn't nod off.

You sighed, “I'm cold,” while refusing to let grip of the blanket's corner. You woke up when the cold touched your flesh.

It broke your heart to see Dean on the bed as you opened your sore eyes. The instant your eyes met, the air tightened up. Your hand stopped struggling, and you were unable to stop yourself from crying again. Tears caused your vision to become unclear.

He gently explained, “You've got fever,” and set the blanket aside. “Have you eaten something today?”

You gazed at his attractive face while your tears continued to moisten your burning cheeks. “I don't know,” you replied. Right now, the thought of eating something makes you feel nauseous. All you wanted was to get into bed and go to sleep, to doze off till you healed.

“You haven't eaten anything, then. All right,” he said and attempted to assist you in standing up by placing his hand on your arms. Even though you knew he wasn't being harsh or anything, his hands seemed heavier. You started crying uncontrollably because you felt vulnerable. Dean was talking to you as though you hadn't declared your love hours before, and your back was already hurting a lot.

He whispered, “Why are you crying now?” curiously. His fingertips hovered over your arms as though to soothe your body, but you were afraid that he had created something that would physically harm you. “Are you hurt somewhere?”

You just said, “I want to sleep,” while glancing at him. Your view was so vague that it was impossible to see his face properly.

The way you gazed at Dean with the big tears still streaming from your crimson eyes warmed his heart. He really wanted to calm you down, reassure you, and make you feel better, but he understood he had to deal with your body first. “Come on,” he said. “I'll prepare you the greatest soup ever, which will help you recover quickly, but first you should take a good, cold shower. The soup will be fantastic, I assure you.”

It didn't seem like Dean's attempt to brighten your mood was successful. You lowered your gaze and remained quiet, as though you were not listening to him. His question was abrupt: "Do you want me to help you shower?" He didn't make any nasty suggestions. Dean was just trying to figure out how to get you feeling better, and he was ready to do anything.

“What? No!”

You were worried about how serious he was now, and the thought of him helping you shower startled you up.

“Don't be childish. Regarding health and medical matters, there is no shame. You are more educated about this than I am,” he mumbled, overjoyed by your reaction. Even though Dean had already seen everything, he didn't say it to embarrass you even more. “Your fever has to be treated right now. And if you continue to act obstinate, you know, I'll have to take you to the bathroom myself.”

In order to persuade you, Dean spoke in a very serious tone. “Act more reasonably, as you are the nurse here and should know better.” Dean sighed as he saw your feeble figure and helped you get up, which you did not object to this time. The first thing you said was “Okay.” Now you stopped crying. “I can handle myself.”

You gave him a quick, shy glance, and Dean gave you a very suspicious look. “Good girl. While you take a quick shower, I will quickly cook a delicious soup for you. Don't make me check on you, okay?”

You whispered, “Alright,” as your body guided you to the bathroom. You indeed had to take a fast, cold shower. You couldn't help but feel a bit cheerful even though your head hurt. It felt so good to be cared for by him that you could be sick all the time.

After your brief shower, you stretched your muscles and finally put on your pajamas, feeling as though your bones had been renewed. The number of hours you slept without even changing your trousers was extraordinary. Dean was right. After your little shower, you've been feeling slightly better. The exhaustion was still present, though. Your eyelids couldn't stay open at all.

The kitchen was still being used by Dean. You had no energy at all, even though you really wanted to go there and talk to him. Your fingers were clenched around the blankets to keep your body warm as you began to tremble and you found yourself back in bed. You were cold. Your mind also calmed down and ceased ripping apart you with negative ideas about Dean while he was around. You were finally free of pain. Your body continued to unwind beneath the covers while he came to check on you and spoke to you, giving the impression that he wasn't mad at you or anything. The headache had almost gone away. You just needed to relax by getting some sleep.

From a distance, you could hear him calling your name, but you lacked the power to take action.

“Hey,” he grumbled. Dean arrived in your room with a cup of soup. “You're not sleeping yet. Not until you finish eating this miraculous soup. Are you aware of the amount of work I put into it?”

Knowing what he was going to do, you hugged the covers tightly. Your body shivered, and you moaned in protest as he pushed the blankets away, just as you thought he wouldn't be able to remove them from your hands this time. The smell of soup only made you scowl in disdain; it had no nice scent. You had no desire to ever eat something again.

“I just need some sleep.” You cringed at your sick tone.

After making you get up just enough to allow you to start eating your soup, Dean gently sat down next to you and placed the tray on his lap. He gave you a gentle push before your tired hands picked up the spoon, adding, “You just lay down nicely, sick nurse.” He did everything he could to cheer you up and start a conversation. Rather, he saw that your cheeks were flushed, which was adequately amusing.

As soon as the spoon reached your lips, you groaned in agony due to the extreme warmth. You didn't say anything to avoid coming out as ungrateful. “Sorry for that,” Dean said in a regretful whisper while blowing out the smoke a few times with an apologetic look. He didn't change his mind when you told him that you could handle yourself.

Every time he calmly blew the smoke before you ate, you saw that he had changed his clothes. Dean was wearing pajamas now as well. You pondered where he would be sleeping, and your heart melted at the idea of him spending the night with you. In order to prevent him from reading your face, you nibbled your inner cheeks and focused on the soup's flavor. It was really excellent. Dean was correct to create a miraculous soup that may accelerate your recovery from illness. You were already feeling better, even if you still had backache.

“Thank you, Dean.” You frowned and turned your head away from the spoon, refusing to consume the entire soup when you felt your nausea returning. “I

think that's enough,” you murmured timidly.

Thankfully, Dean placed the tray aside while you used tissue to wipe the corners of your lip. After displaying a few of your medications in his palm, he inquired, “Which one do you need to take? Since they do not have boxes, it is impossible to determine which one is helpful.”

Your cheeks flushed as you saw one of the pills you had been taking since the night with Dean in his hands, but you remained silent. At this time, you were relieved that he was rather naive. There was a pregnant silence in the room as you picked the right one, drank a glass of water, and then wrapped yourself with warm blankets once more. You instantly closed your eyes to keep from looking directly at Dean. As a result of Dean's crushing presence, your eyelids were firmly closed and your heart was racing.

You wanted to let him know how wonderful he was and how his compassion and sincerity made you feel better than you had in a long time. However, you were not allowed to utter any of those. You had so much you wanted to say at the moment, but you held it back out of shame and guilt. You turn away from Dean and pay close attention to his movements in the room, hoping he won't talk about what you told him and will pretend it never happened. If he couldn't love you back, you just wanted him to be this way forever. It meant the world to you that he was taking care of you in this way. It was quite adequate.

Dean immediately climbed into the bed after you had closed your eyes. Your body stiffened up, and your heart began racing as soon as you felt his weight on the bed. The way he affected you was embarrassing. But even though you knew it was only an act of kindness, it still made you unfulfilled and sad. Because you wished so desperately for him to feel the same way about you, it became a prayer. Your body longed for him—to experience his comforting presence and touch.

“Are you feeling better now?” The silence was disturbed by Dean placing his palm on your forehead to measure your temperature. Hearing his talk so near made your body shiver, and you could feel his hefty presence just behind you. You closed your eyes as though something would happen and he would leave. You could have broken at any time since your body was so rigid.

You muttered, “Yes,” as your back hurt like it was trying to prevent you from getting a good night's sleep. “Just a sore back. Overworking must be the cause.”

With a sudden connection, you gasped as his large hands began rubbing your back. You began moaning a bit with relaxation since the intense closeness of the situation was so overpowering. When Dean felt your tight body slowly letting go under his touch, his lips curved pleasantly. There was nothing sexual about the moment. Dean kept on massaging your back in the hopes that it might make you feel better.

After caressing your back enough, he moved to place his head directly behind yours and withdrew his hand. You realized you had shifted till your head was resting on his thick neck, and you wished he hadn't been listening to your heartbeats when he was so close. You felt safeguarded, but perhaps it was your sleep or the touch of him that made you impulsive. The moment was so lovely and delightful that it couldn't have been produced by the wildest dreams.

Dean's hard kiss on the back of your head caused your lips to parted. Once he smelled your hair, you were relieved you had showered. He said, “You smell so nice and fresh,” moving slightly to ensure that you both slept well.

Your body relaxed even more as you let your head drop back a bit more and kept your eyes closed as soon as his hand took yours into his warm ones. Your lips may brush across his chin if you make a small movement. You no longer wanted to sleep; all you wanted was to savor that moment of perfection indefinitely and to keep quiet about it. Your mind and soul had been craving that intimacy for months.

Both of your hands remained on your stomach as Dean's hand continued to touch your fingertips. His breathing caught your attention. The only sound in the room was the rain that had begun to fall outside. As Dean's hands continued to touch you in harmony, the calm sounds of the raindrops filled your entire being with fulfillment and a state of bliss more than the last time, as though each one were filling a hole in the pit of your soul.

You didn't know if it meant something for Dean. But that didn't matter. Whatever Dean was prepared to offer you, you were prepared to embrace it. As soon as your exhaustion gave way to sleep again and you sensed Dean getting closer, you knew it was time for a restful night's sleep.

After a long and pleasant sleep, you stretched your body in between sighs of delight. You smiled a bit as you felt Dean's hand on yours, thinking he was still asleep. Taking advantage of the fact that he didn't move behind you, you leaned your back on his chest a bit further.

“Good morning to you too,” Dean remarked abruptly in an amusing manner, causing you to jump and then freeze in shame.

You said, “Morning,” as if you hadn't just been brushing against his body.

“Slept well, I guess.” To check if you still had a fever, Dean touched your forehead and asked. Fortunately, you were fine. He was happy to be able to help you the way you deserved, and it filled his chest with pride.

“Yeah, thank you, Dean, for taking care of me.” As you thanked him for enhancing your mood in every manner while your mind considered saying different things. Dean, overcome with excitement, moved behind you so he could meet your gaze. Your muscles stiffened up once again as you worried about what was coming. Right now, you didn't want to talk at all.

When Dean moved, your hands were waiting on each side of you, hovering over your body. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, paying close attention to your eyes. As you considered what to say, you licked your dried lips. You were ready for rejection, but you wanted to keep yourself composed so that your friendship wouldn't end over something so... dumb.

“That night, I didn't want to upset you or hurt your feelings.” He said, “When I found out about... You know,” without bringing it up to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. “It didn't go...waste.”

You shook your head and mumbled, “Dean,” disturbed that he actually believed it to be a serious issue. He interrupted you before you could respond and continued.

He stated, “What's special to you is special to me as well,” in a firm tone.

With beseeching eyes, you murmured, “It's not special, I promise, I swear,” so that he would never feel guilty for something he was uninformed of. You alone made that choice. He was correct to hold you responsible for something he had no control over. You need to have apologized for it. “I never expected anything in return.” Even though your cheeks were flushed, you continued firmly, “I would never.” You understood that in order to mend your disagreements, you needed to have this talk.

He said, “I know, I know,” as if that wasn't what he was attempting to convey. “I just want you to know how pleased I am that it was me. It didn't go wasted, alright? Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” You hurriedly answered with a sweet tone. “There is nothing to be forgiven,” and in an attempt to convince him of your sincerity, one of your hands instantly reached up and caressed his arm.

Your gentle touch caused Dean's eyes to soften and his body to relax. When he saw that you were panting deeply and that he was nearly on top of you, he gulped and licked his dry lips. His thoughts were swiftly superseded by other things. At last, his eyes ceased observing you as you chewed your lips. Dean made an effort to focus on your small talk.

The idea of going on a date with you made his heart race. Dean was ready to go all the way with you. He knew, however, that he should be doing it right. If he weren't a grown man, he would be blushing at the thought of your proclamation of love for him. He wouldn't talk about it until you were more comfortable and at ease with him. Dean knew you were a little shy right now. “Now that you're feeling better, would you like to go out tonight? With me?”

“For what?” you inquired naively. Your fingertips were gently massaging his biscep.

This time, Dean smiled when he saw your look of confusion. Whether or not it made you shy, it seemed like he had to start acting braver from now on. “A date?”

Your lips were parted in shock as your hands went down on his muscles. You continued to stare into his beautiful green eyes as you attempted to make sense of what he was saying so you wouldn't ridicule yourself in front of him. You weren't sure whether he meant something else, but he appeared to be rather serious. “What date?”

As Dean said, “I'm assuming we both are ready to make little amendments about our relationship,” he began to get closer to you. Already, the gentle motion of your fingertips on his arm was causing him to imagine inappropriate things. When you showed him how bold you were in your love declaration, Dean wouldn't dare to deny his own feelings for you. He was eager to see how well you two could work together since he had such affection for you.

Though your heart was racing, you couldn't help but feel a little insecure because of the way things had been going lately. If Dean was acting this way because he had taken your virginity without knowing about it, it would hurt you more than anything he had said. “Dean,” you finally muttered, “I would never force you into something you're not into just because of such an insignificant thing. It doesn't matter. I swear,” you said firmly, though your voice was a little cracked, but you needed him to believe you because you were totally honest about it. “I cannot undo what I have told you, but I'm willing to keep our... friendship maintained. I don't want to lose-”

Dean decided to disregard your words and let your actions speak more by capturing your lips and silencing you, even though you made earnest attempts to convince him that you were okay with moving forward as you have in the past. You were so shocked that you didn't move as Dean did his best to push his tongue into your mouth by trying to part your lips. His hand lightly brushed your neck in an attempt to elicit a response.

When you eventually regained consciousness, you parted your lips to allow his tongue to enter. As soon as you let him, his frantic kisses slowed and softened, like though you had just been into a fight and he had calmed down. When Dean intensified his seductive kisses, your uncertainties and fears vanished. It was hard to imagine if he would respond to your love in the manner you were hoping for. However, you choose to let him take control and wait patiently to see what comes next.

As he began shifting on the bed and gradually climbing on top of you, you felt hotter the softer your kisses became. He withdrew to let you both catch your breath, but he continued to stroke your burning lips with his reddened ones. Desire flooded your body as though you hadn't been sick the day before.

Dean, who was already having trouble resisting the need to shove himself between your thighs, briefly closed his eyes to gather himself. He didn't intend to do it. Well, for the time being. He moved slightly away to look at you. You were staring at him with such tenderness and love that Dean momentarily stopped breathing. You placed both of your hands from his arms to his neck and shifted your head slightly to signal him to come closer.

Without hesitation, he put his hands around your upper thigh and squeezed it tightly while giving your burning lips another intense kiss. His painful erection was going to take over his body and take over his entire being. He was losing control of himself because of your tender hands on his neck, your fingers following the veins there, your passionate kisses, the tiny moans on his lips, and your tiny movements beneath him. Dean began sucking your bottom lip as you did the same for his top lip after he gave you a gentle squeeze on your thigh to help himself relax.

You eagerly awaited him to place himself between your legs, but Dean seemed to be holding himself back by declining to initiate contact. You hesitated a bit, moved slightly beneath him, and lifted your hips without breaking the kiss, putting one of your hands on his back after gasping at how hard he was. You couldn't keep your hips in the air for very long, so you needed him to pin you down on the bed.

“Dean,” you moaned at last, unsure of how to ask without coming out as desperate.

When Dean heard your tiny moan and his name on your lips, he caught them again to stop you from pleading for more. He wasn't sure how long he could hold back from you. Of course, it wasn't the right moment, but you two were acting too eager to make him think properly. Dean wanted you to know how much you were hardening him with your kisses when he finally placed himself between your legs. After feeling his hardness on your clothed pussy, you moaned into his lips and carefully put one hand beneath his t-shirt to touch his stiff abs.

In order to give you the friction you wanted, Dean grabbed your hips and abruptly pressed himself between your legs, rubbing harder on your pussy. He was ready to strip you right away and shove his cock inside when he felt his body tense beneath your touch. That's not the proper moment, he reminded himself.

Dean moaned against your lips, “We need to calm,” but his body betrayed him, and he kept stroking himself frantically between your legs while stealing little moans from your lips. You were going crazy because of an unsolved pressure between your legs.

You asked innocently, perplexed by Dean's choice to not go all the way, “Why?” Didn't your kisses enough as a response to all that was going on? Your body didn't listen to him at all.

“We don't have to rush things,” he whispered into your mouth. Your lips were swollen and red. But you weren't being stopped.

Even though he was telling you that you didn't need to make any funny business right now, his body was telling you otherwise. In the hopes that Dean might change his mind, you instantly returned Dean's kisses. The idea of becoming something with him and the closeness of his touch sent your pulse pounding with thrill and happiness.

Although Dean's pulsating manhood was screaming for him to act at once, he maintained his composure. He was adamant about doing things correctly and decided not to shove inside of you by lowering your underwear. Instead, he drew himself back a bit and rubbed your clothed pussy through your pajamas to offer you that little ecstasy and calm your body's desires. He touched you gently there, and you immediately gasped with anticipation. Dean closely observed your facial expressions to determine if you were at ease or not. The corner of his lips twisted into a little smile once he was certain that, based on your pleased look, you were perfectly at ease with his touch.

Your pajamas' thin fabric allowed you to feel his large fingers there, slowly following the line of your pussy through it. You let out a little groan and raised your hips higher in order to establish rhythm. You bit your lip to avoid moaning aloud and demonstrating how desperate you already were. It was insufficient to provide you with the same pleasure he had bestowed upon you weeks before. You needed him to touch you there without any fabric between you.

You pleaded with yearning eyes, “Dean, please,” as your hand moved from his tempting abs to his arms, which were massaging you in that precise spot. Dean tormented you as his lips curved with delight and his motions grew even slower, as if he wanted you to beg for more once again. You showed your desire for him by raising your hips again.

“Is that not enough? Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you said, your cheeks flaming with embarrassment at how needy you were already under him while he was in control of his own body, unlike you.

Dean kept his motions steady while you pleaded with him with your eyes and words, looking at your lovely figure underneath him, your messy hair, and your exquisite scent to appreciate the moment more. You hesitate a moment before placing your shaky hands between his legs. You were simply touching and blinking your eyes while you examined his reaction. You weren't palming his erection, but just touching. It would have been so simple for him to thrust himself inside you at this very moment by lowering your underwear. Dean knew he needed to wait a little longer to make the sex flawless, as you deserved, even if he was on the verge of bursting due to the intense closeness he shared with you.

Under your gentle hands, he felt hard and heavy. You wondered why he hadn't already made a move. You didn't have to wait for anything. Dean couldn't help but groan in desire and thrust himself into your hand with a sudden motion that made you gasp in excitement. You were getting wetter by the sounds he let out than he made you with his fingers. His rough, lustful sounds were filling your heart with joy. You wanted him to see how much you wanted to make him feel the same things and to express your deep love for him.

Encouraged by the way he responded to your touch, you squeezed him firmly through his sweatpants, tightening your grip until he shivered and groaned deeply over you. Making him feel this way filled your heart with fulfillment, resulting in your heart racing madly on your chest. Right now, you could do anything he wanted.

Dean's hands grabbed the soft one that was massaging him there and put it behind his back so he wouldn't lose himself entirely. You gave him a perplexed expression. “We will not rush, alright?” he said after kissing you firmly on the lips.

You mumbled, “Fine,” not happy with his answer. You didn't want to appear overly eager, but it appeared that you were not successful. At the very least, you prayed he wouldn't stop rubbing you there.

“I'll give you what you need.”

When Dean dropped your sweatpants and underwear to reveal your dripping pussy to him, a little grin faded from your lips and was replaced by shock. While he was doing this, he continued to gaze at you, analyzing every facial expression to see whether you were actually comfortable. Even if he wouldn't fuck you right now, he would not leave you like this, unsatisfied.

You bit your lips in anticipation as you rested your hands on his back, your knees shaking with enthusiasm. With a little smirk, Dean said, “I wonder if it's wet there.” To lighten the mood, he teased you even though he knew he would find you drenched.

“Yeah, me too,” you said with a little smile, but the way he massaged your thighs extremely slowly, as though to drive you insane, made your legs tremble.

You groaned against his lips as soon as he palmed your pussy to determine your level of wetness. You were certain that your underwear must have been ruined since his fingers moved so effortlessly between your pussy lips. Although Dean was aware that you were leaking there, he was not expecting you to be this soaked. His cock begged to be released as it throbbed against boxers once more. He could slide into you without even making you come. You bit your lip hard as Dean's playful smile changed to one of seriousness and he inserted a finger abrubtly.

Dean moaned as he inserted his finger all the way inside of you, saying, “You feel so tight, so nice.” His praises made you feel at ease and prepared to take in everything he had in store for you. It wouldn't be hard for you to take him if he simply shoved himself into you now, lowering his boxers.

Whispering, “Just for you,” you placed your hands on his neck and ran them over his skin.

He smiled, and his pulse raced with delight at your response. He felt cherished and loved for based on the astounding compassion and affection in your hands. Dean wanted you to surrender yourself to him completely, given that he knew he desired you in every way.

You moaned into Dean's mouth just as he pressed his lips to yours and started to finger you properly, overjoyed by your response. Inside your lips, he hushed his own groans, although he struggled to maintain his composure. Dean was going crazy because of the way you touched his neck and drew him in closer to your mouth. You moaned loudly into Dean's lips as he pushed a second finger. His cock was pulsing with every sound you made now, because you used to be a bit quiet weeks earlier. He enjoyed the fact that while you were laying under him, at his mercy, you were unable to stop your moaning.

You gave him frantic kisses in return, as the pleasure he was giving you caused your walls to tighten around his fingers inside of you. His fingers worked in sync with his tongue in your mouth. You drew back and let out a loud gasp as your head hit the pillow and your back arched as Dean expertly worked with your clit with his thumb and curled his fingers.

He started to finger you more roughly after hearing your desperate moan. He was also biting and sucking your neck wildly, making marks there as if he intended to mark you as his.

He groaned, sensing that you were getting closer. “Do you want me to make you come?” You were failing, but you were holding back in order to prevent yourself from coming too quickly.

You pleaded, “Please, Dean,” sensing that you were getting close. Your body yearned for release, but you didn't want it to stop.

As his meaty fingers continued to torture you with pleasure, he moaned against your lips, “Will you take whatever I give you?”

“I will,” you said hurriedly. “Always.”

“That's my girl,” Dean praised you again and kissed you, his fingers moving more strongly inside you. You moaned loudly as you came around his meaty fingers when he curled them again and hit the perfect spot. You were unable to remain silent any longer due to the intensity of your orgasm. As he absorbed the screams you produced into his mouth, your legs were trembling and your pussy was throbbing.

Dean's other hand aggressively squeezed one of your tits through your t-shirt before placing it beneath your chin before his kisses became softer and relaxed as the effects of your orgasm wore away. This time, as you came to your senses, Dean gave you a very delicate, warm kiss and carefully lifted up your sweatpants and underwear.

The sensation of his smile on your lips made you smile too. Each part of your existence was at ease now. Though shyness started surfacing, that was the most amazing and intense thing you have ever experienced—not hurried, not in quiet, not in the darkness in any way—Dean was aware of the love you had for him and could now see you in the light of day in every possible way imaginable. You sighed with happiness as he withdrew; you could kiss him indefinitely, even if both of your lips were burning.

“You okay?” Taking you into his arms on the bed, Dean asked, panting heavily himself. He still had a noticeable erection, but you could see he wasn't going to go all the way just yet. That was very unfortunate.

With your head resting on his chest and your cheeks heating, you responded, “Very much,” putting your palm to your lips, not looking too cheerful or excited.

Dean was relieved to see you relaxed and doing much better than you had yesterday. Even though his erection still hurt in his sweatpants, he didn't care about it anymore. He embraced you more tightly and made his mind that he was excited to see whatever the future held for you. Dean was struck by the way his heart pounded while you were still panting heavily like a leaf in his arms. The feeling itself was something he didn't want to lose.

After such agonizing weeks, you were now lying on top of him again, closing your eyes this time to savor the precious moment. He didn't say the same three words to you, which you didn't expect already because it wasn't that significant. He had already done so for you; you were truly touched by his kindness, his care for you last night, and—above all—the way he expressed himself via the actions he took. You were fine with using the same three words over and over again. You merely wanted that he never depart from you and continue to care for you in this way.

Dean's phone began to ring shortly after you woke up. You two had to go back to sleep. You didn't have the energy to get up, even though his phone kept ringing. This is how you could sleep forever. Even though your back pain was almost gone, you still wanted to take a little more time to just unwind. You would never again work so hard.

After gently placing you on your side on the cushions, Dean climbed across your body to retrieve his phone from the table next to the bed. Your slumber began to wane as soon as you felt his weight on you, and you yawned and slowly opened your eyes. Dean grumbled and eventually picked up his phone. “Sorry,” he said.

“What happened?” you said, wiping your eyes as you wrapped blankets over your cold body. Your body tenses up at the sound of Sam's voice, and you instantly shut your mouth. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of being heard by him. Dean offered you a wink and a side smile as he listened to Sam, finding your silence cute.

When Sam heard a drowsy voice on the phone, he blinks. All of a sudden, he lost his words. With a bewildered tone, he said, “Are you with Y/N?” He was shocked to learn that Dean met you after spending much of his time in front of the mirror. He was plainly mistaken when he believed his older brother had spent the night with someone else.

“Yeah,” he said. Sam rolled his eyes, but he was unable to contain his chuckle at his brother's haughty and joyful tone.

“You know I can't deal with all the shit out here myself, right?” Sam sighed and asked. He had to ruin your moment even if he didn't want to. Sam pondered whether you two had started dating.

Sam actually pictured you and Robb together because you both had long-standing friendships and similar occupations in the same area. He was unaware that his brother was already eyeing you, and vice versa. He couldn't see the big picture given that he was blind. He heard Dean sigh heavily as Sam went on with the problems he and his brothers had to deal with.

He eventually responded, “Alright, alright, Sam,” in a composed tone. “On my way.”

Since Sam's wounds were still fresh and he needed to take care of himself, you questioned, “Is everything alright?” worried that something had happened to him.

“It's nothing.” Dean stretched his muscles and looked at your body. “He's just being whiny about dealing with werepires, witches, and other strange things without me.”

You shifted on the bed and said, “You both are still wounded,” as Dean stood up and began stripping in front of you to change. You instantly looked down at the bed, embarrassed that you didn't know how to react when he stripped in front of you. You doubted Dean was feeling bashful about the sudden thickening of the air.

“It's alright,” he calmly said. He looked to see whether you had been watching him, but he saw that you were fiddling with the sheets. “Just regular things.”

You realized that you had never seen each other truly naked since the first time, when you were both wearing costumes and it was dark, when you heard him take off his t-shirt. You have never laid eyes on each other's bodies properly in daylight. You felt nervous at the idea. There were moments when you could see his muscles in the upper body or when he was hurt in his belly, but you didn't glance elsewhere except at his wounds to avoid taking advantage of the circumstance. But now you wanted to see him.

“You missed the whole show, I'm just saying.” As he grabbed and put on his shirt and jeans, Dean winked.

“Is there anything I can do?” you said, smiling slightly at him.

“There is, indeed. Just have your breakfast, remember to take your medicine, and get more sleep. In order for us to have the dinner that we discussed outside tonight, you must regain your strength, okay? So that's the best you can do at the moment.” Dean's tone was quite serious. He was ready to leave. He didn't stay a little longer so you could have breakfast together, which made you a bit upset. But you were satisfied with what you had. Everything that had happened since yesterday night was beyond comprehension, and it was already too much.

You nodded and watched him adjust his clothes again before you got out of bed. “Okay,” you said. You needed a second shower.

You both gazed at each other anxiously, unsure of what to do. Awkwardness suffused the atmosphere. You didn't know what to say to break off the silence since you weren't sure what you two were exactly. Dean just had a similar expression to yours when he glanced at you. “Say hi to Sam from me,” you finally said, but you cringed at your own words.

Dean gave you a strange look as you waited anxiously after he got his phone and put everything else in his pockets and then examined his clothes. “Alright,” he muttered back.

Disturbed by his own strange actions, Dean gathered himself and confidently walked up to you, kissing you on the lips. From the way your lips became crimson and warm, he realized how much he really liked kissing you. The kiss was enhanced by your nervousness, and the way you react to him with the same fervor was adorable. Dean hoped his actions spoke louder than words, although he didn't put it into words. He thought you wouldn't be into the friends with benefits thing, which he wasn't into either, obviously, not with you.

When Dean withdrew after the firm kiss that had warmed your heart, you glanced at his bandaged hand again to make sure he was okay. As you carefully examined his hand and gave it a mild massage, he stated, "You're not going to work today, right?"

“No way.”

“Good.” Dean said, “Just have some rest,” taking your hands in his. “I'll call you when I'm done.”

“Okay. Tell Sam to take care of his wounds. He must also get plenty of rest in order to recover rapidly.”

Dean added hastily, “Don't worry about that,” and then he was gone.

You exhaled deeply as soon as he left your house, and your palm paused on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. You were astonishingly well, as if you weren't even sick, in contrast to yesterday. You felt as though a lot of energy had been poured into your soul, and you smiled broadly to yourself. You considered every aspect of your time with Dean as you prepared a delicious breakfast for yourself to further savor the experience. You reminisced on how he touched, kissed, hugged, and cared for you. No one could have touched you the way he had.

Remembering how he wanted to go farther with you and how you couldn't stop moving when cutting a tomato, you giggled this time. Though you felt awful about it yesterday since it made you sick and you thought it wrecked everything, you were happy with your declaration of love. You could speak those three magical words into his ear forever.

As you considered what to wear, you thought about what dinner you would be having this evening. Since you were either at work or chasing ghosts or monsters with him, you were never able to wear the outfits you bought when you fell in love with him months ago. It appeared like you were going to spend those hours contemplating what to wear and other things until Dean gave you a call.

When Dean called and said he would be there in fifteen minutes, you were so preoccupied with what to wear and worried that it would be too much to put on a dress that you took your head between your hands, powerless to act, helpless. You had plenty of time to think things through, yet you were unable to effectively manage the time you had. Choosing the most modest of them, you brushed your hair aggressively and quickly. You wish you were as fast as you were at the hospital.

Dean was patiently waiting for you while leaning back against his car and placing his hands on his chest. Since he had left your house, he had been thinking about you, which was causing him a little stress at the moment. He wanted to proceed with things as you deserved. Sam, you, and him spent a lot of time together, but this time, going out with you was different. That meant something, even though you didn't say as much to each other. It was your first date.

Dean shifted into a more relaxed stance, clearing his throat and placing his hands in his pockets. He stopped resting back against his car and smiled at your delighted figure as soon as you opened the door. You appeared little beneath your oversized jacket as you drew near.

You walked up to him and said, “Sorry, Dean,” in an apologetic manner. You attempted to be calm so that you wouldn't be distracted by his attractive, lengthy form. “Have you been waiting for long?” He looked awfully good.

As soon as Dean responded, “No, I just...” Your legs were already trembling a little, so you hurriedly opened the door yourself without waiting for him to do it for you or at least give you a hug. Confusion seized Dean's lips as he carefully closed the door. Your excitement and hasty movements made him smile and shake his head.

In order to avoid becoming chilly and ruining your entire week, you were clinging to your large brown vintage jacket. “How is your hand feeling now?” you asked in a tone of concern as soon as Dean put his bandaged hand on the steering wheel. You saw that the bandage had previously been renewed.

Dean chuckled and stretched his fingers to indicate that he was okay. “Yeah, it is,” he responded. “Have you rested enough?”

“Yes, I've got better. I suppose it was all due to my extreme tiredness.” You looked at his flawless side profile and murmured again, “Thank you, Dean. For taking care of me, for making me feel better.”

Dean winked at you and replied, “Don't mention it,” pleased that you told him he did well. “My pleasure.”

In contrast to what you expected, Dean sat down next to you rather than across from you when you first got to the location where you, Ruby, Sam, and Dean occasionally hung out. Since it was already heated inside, you hurriedly removed your jacket. Your big brown jacket and long dark green dress must have made you appear a bit silly.

In order to avoid giving himself a hard time, Dean moved his eyes away after he realized they were locked onto your deep, delicious cleavage. His wicked eyes were literally twitching due to your skin, and his brain was sending messages all the way between his legs. His nose was flooded with your delicate scent as soon as you removed your jacket. Your skin and the way you looked in general were flawless. Dean moved slightly in the seat and pressed his hand on the head of your seat. When Dean stated, “It's pretty cold outside nowadays; you must be very careful,” you were reminded of your sickness.

You murmured, “It's actually quite hot inside.” No matter what Dean thought, you probably wouldn't take off your jacket if it got even a little cold since you've never cherished cold weather.

"Oh, yeah?” Dean said with a chuckle, wetting his lips and arching his eyebrows. He became aware that he had never previously seen you wearing a dress like this. Dean's heart melted as you smiled tenderly at him, and he couldn't resist gently touching your arms.

You shuddered a little at Dean's abrupt, gentle touch on your arm and teased him, “Plus, you would be there to take care of me, right?” It should be illegal since he looked so handsome.

Dean said, delighted by your playful behavior, “Seems like someone got used to being taken care of already.”

Your heart began to behave normally around him as the tension between you lessened, even if you were still a little anxious. You told Dean about your college days and the times you witnessed the most ridiculous and absurd patients you saw in the hospital while you were eating dinner in peace. Dean also talked about the old, bittersweet days with Sam, which melted your heart. You told him everything good about him when he got a little critical of himself.

Fortunately, Dean showed consideration by not inquiring about your confession, your feelings for him, or the precise beginning of your feelings. You would feel quite uneasy and less confident because of it. The date was really different, yet it was also just like every other lovely time with him. There were situations when you both couldn't stop touching one another while chatting.

It was difficult to resist touching him. You were already accustomed to that as well. Dean's kind and passionate strokes had already become addictive to your body. It went really well, even though you thought it may have gone a little worse because of the anxiety you had been feeling. At the beginning, you were somewhat too shy, but Dean helped you start acting more like yourself.

You didn't even notice how quickly the time went by since you were eating a meal side by side and touching each other while you chatted and revealed more intimate details about lives. Dean's smile was contagious, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw how joyful and natural he was. His demeanor also inspired you to speak even more. It was already midnight.

The physical distance between you as he drove was a bit agonizing, as you had become used to spending hours sitting by his side. You wanted to be close to each other to forget about the times you were apart, and you were basically free to touch each other as you wanted. When Dean called your name, you leaped. Dean halted the car, but you were unaware that you had arrived.

“That was a very enjoyable night,” you said timidly, looking out and unsure of what to say. “Thanks for the dinner.”

You waited for his answer while licking your lips. You smiled sincerely at him and idly fiddled with the hanger of your shoulder bag. Dean's mouth opened, but he seemed to be looking at you as if he were pondering what exactly to say at this moment. He gave you the kind of glance that made him look as if he wanted to pause time and enjoy this sincere moment.

“My pleasure. I had a great time,” he added, grinning at you. Abruptly, “Are you working tomorrow?” he said.

“No,” you shook your head in response. “I'll be off from work for at least three more days. I informed them that I was still feeling bad and somewhat worn out.”

Dean exhaled a sigh of relief. He was already planning new activities to do while he was with you. Most significantly, you needed some downtime after working nonstop due to him. He wanted to take responsibility and put things right. Dean wanted to make you happy, sort things out, and start something fresh with you, not to relieve himself.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly to him while you kept chewing your inner cheeks. It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to want to bring him inside. However, things had changed, and you were unsure of how to behave or what to say. He had you at his mercy.

As you were about to bid farewell before heading away, Dean's fingers reached your neck, and his lips captured yours. In response to his gentle kisses, you eagerly parted your lips and let him in. Your hand dropped to his chest as you let your bag drop to your feet, only feeling his heartbeat against your palm.

His kisses were gentle and soft at first, but you were unable to suppress your need and want for him, so they became urgent and mirrored your hunger. You were reluctant about leaving. You wished he would stay. You whimpered into his lips as your hand moved from his chest to his thick neck. Dean's gentle kisses quickly became intense. He was now giving you fierce kisses in return for your urgent ones. You were kissing each other like you've never kissed before.

His low growl made your heart race as you moaned into his mouth as he bit and sucked your lips. With a swift movement, Dean's injured hand grabbed your ass and moved your body into his seat, on his lap. Watching you between his legs caused him to groan. Dean was even harder since he was aware of his impact on you.

As Dean touched your legs through your long dress, you pulled back to catch your breath. You could already feel your pussy contracting with anticipation. Your entire body yearned for him. You looked him in the eye when you licked your swollen lips while placing your hands on either side of his face. Dean smiled at you to gauge your response, and it was warm and delightful. Through his jeans, you could feel his dick throbbing beneath you.

He had been encouraged to continue by the passion and affection he saw in your eyes, and as his hands began lifting your dress, you shivered with impatience. He moved steadily and slowly. After all, you had plenty of time to enjoy each other.

You were seated on his lap, rubbing your covered pussy against his cock as soon as he raised up your dress. Your heart was pounding wildly. You already knew you were ruined there already. “Dean,” you whimpered desperately. You hoped he wouldn't leave you like this.

He grinned victoriously at how much you desired him and how dependent you were on him. You stared at him and said his name with love and affection, and it wasn't simply a simple sexual yearning. Dean's heart pulsed blissfully into his chest. He longed to be loved and wanted by you. He intended to provide for all of your needs.

“What do you want me to do?” While his wounded had been waiting on your hip, Dean asked on your lips. Then he softly stroked one of your tits and squeezed it firmly.

While he waited for an answer, Dean gasped in surprise and confusion as you bit your lip and abruptly rubbed yourself on his hard cock. Dean's lips twisted into a little, sly smile. His injured hand remained on your underwear, helping you to move on him while the other hand kept pressing and kneading your breast through your clothes.

Dean's gaze was fixed on your cleavage as you kept rubbing yourself on his cock slowly so that neither of you would finish too soon and you could savor the moment. You pressed closer to his hands and watched the driven expression in his eyes. As his hand moved into your cleavage exposed your breast, squeezing your stiffened nipple, Dean checked your face to make sure you were completely well. You moaned a little louder this time because of the way he rubbed his thumb on your breast.

In order to establish a rhythm with you, Dean lifted his hip a little higher and started to suck your breast into his lips extremely aggressively once his mouth approached your nipple. “Ah, Dean!” you moaned, pressing yourself into his lips and nailing his shoulders.

Dean slowed his passionate kisses and then stopped, laying his head on your chest and panting heavily, just as you were ready to lose yourself on him. You whimpered as you felt him pull out his thick fingers. You had not finished yet. Was he unaware? He raised his head to meet your startled look as he planted a very gentle kiss on your bare chest. He knew you would do anything for him at this moment, didn't he?

He was completely hard, hurting down below, watching you lose yourself on his lap while wearing this outfit. Dean wanted you to ride him till he released his ropes inside you right now in Baby. Badly.

However, he needed to know that pleasure and desire weren't the backbone of what you were doing. He needed to express his affection and respect for you, even though it was obvious that you were desperate for any physical contact, and it was driving him insane. He needed you to see how gentle and caring he was toward you. He desired to offer you all that you had given him.

Dean replied, “Not now, sweetheart,” and put his hands behind your back, basically offering you a hug as you were lying on top of him, half-naked and in need. Dean kissed you on the shoulders and adjusted your dress.

You said, unhappy that you had been pushing this off since the morning, “Why not?” You felt okay with it. “Because of your hand?”

When Dean saw that you were being serious, he couldn't stop laughing. As though his cock would stop because his hand was simply injured a little. “Not because of my hand obviously,” Dean remarked. “Like I said, we don't have to rush things, alright?”

“But we've already done it.” You moaned, not pleased with his response, “Twice.” You didn't want to come out as so desperate, but you were no longer bashful.

“Someone is impatient, huh?” With a groan, Dean's hands traveled along your back.

Dean kissed your forehead firmly and then gently put you back in your seat, placing his hand beneath your chin. “All I want to do is make everything perfect because you deserve it. I don't want you to believe that we are only having sex out of passion. That is never the case.”

You replied swiftly, “It already is flawless,” and his comments made your heart sink. He was being so honest about your relationship for the first time, and you forgot about everything else when he acknowledged how much he cared for you. “I would never think otherwise.”

Looking at his hand, you timidly said, “But if you want, you can come inside," before the stillness deepened. “I can check out your bandages.”

Dean teased, “Thought you wouldn't be working for some time.” Before you grabbed your bag and opened the door, you looked at his hand and arched an eyebrow.

With the same humorous tone, you added, “Just because I pity you right now, Mr. Winchester,” before grinning broadly and closing the door on his face while you waited for him to follow you.

Fortunately, Dean used his keys to open the door when you noticed you had left yours inside. He continued making fun of how thrilled you must have been about your little date. You were overjoyed that you kept assuring him it wasn't. Dean wasn't convinced.

You swiftly got what you needed from the restroom as Dean grunted and sat down on the coach. As soon as you sat down next to him and got the fresh bandages ready, you saw that Dean was looking at you with such a lovely expression that you instantly smiled back. Right now, you must have been thinking the same thing. You remembered the night when he took you in this coach without even knowing how much you loved him.

Even though it was completely dark and you couldn't see each other at the time, you knew you were seeing each other in every manner now. It was spiritually as well as physically. Dean was unaware of your love for him at the time, but he now acknowledged your true feelings for him. Your want to be with him was obvious to him. Before you began to remove his bandages, you placed his hand in his palm and gave it a very gentle kiss that caused his eyes to widen in wonder. That moment filled your heart with so much love and powerful sensations. You hoped you could make him realize how much you valued that moment and how much you admired him.

Dean offered you the same caring kiss while placing his hand under your chin, understanding what you were thinking. It was just lovely; it had nothing sexual about it. Dean cracked a smile and said, “Deja vu, huh?” as he drew back.

“It's like yesterday. Time flies,” you whispered as you carefully cared for him, taking care not to hurt him.

Dean remarked regretfully, “I wish I knew,” which caused you to pause. “I would make it perfect, you know, rather than being quick and doing it on a coach in darkness.”

His words instantly made you blush. “It's not important, I told you already,” not pleased that he was still feeling this way. “I'm just glad it was you, Dean.”

“Well, I'm glad about that too.” Seeing that you were still obstinate about it, Dean also sighed.

When you are done, you exhale deeply and place everything on the table after gently looking to his wounded hand. Without wasting any time, Dean embraced you and made you giggle with a playful animal growl he made. He placed a cushion beneath his head and made your body lie on him, as if reenacting the scenario, and now he was lying on the coach. You shifted on Dean a little as he gave you a strong hug that seemed like he would never let you go.

He was surprised by the way you gazed at him. Dean closed his eyes as though in anguish and melted into your touch just as you softly placed one of your palms on his cheek. After seeing his face, you placed your head on his chest in joy, delighted by the way strongly his hands wrapped around you. Dean had no idea when you had begun to affect him in this way. Your touch made him feel so hungry and desperate that he was on the verge of letting out a defeated sigh and asking for more.

As you leaned on his body on your coach, you both glanced at one another without exchanging words. Your eyes brightened as Dean took your hand in his and gently caressed your fingers.

Feeling a little talkative, you asked, “Do you really want to sleep like this?”

“Why not?” Dean grinned right away, reminding you of that night to make you feel bashful. “It's not the first time after all.”

Even though your cheeks turned hot, you couldn't help but smile and ask playfully, “What if the electricity cuts out again? You know, we didn't change our clothes. It might be a little uncomfortable to sleep like this.”

Dean's eyes narrowed at your bold suggestion, and he licked his lips. “Well, if it does cut off, sweetheart, we won't need our clothes at all,” he said in a whisper in your ear while placing his finger beneath your chin. “Your attractive boyfriend will provide for all of your needs.”

By the time he finished his sentence, Dean had planted a kiss on your lips, and you were grinning uncontrollably into the gentle kiss while your heart was beating madly with joy. The scene was so exquisite that you nearly started crying. After Dean treated your wound, you were feeling much the same as when you slept with him in the same coach back in the day. Even though he had touched you, cured you, and taken care of your hand, something severely wounded and damaged your spirit that night without you even recognizing it. But now you felt entirely healed. Everything about Dean—his words, his kisses, his touch—healed you in the most exceptional way.

THE END.

Author's Note: Hi there! Here we are. WASTE is the first Supernatural fiction I ever wrote and the first fic I completed. Fun fact: Although I am aware of all the spoilers, I have only seen the first six or seven episodes of Supernatural. I apologize if I wrote characters 'out of character' . As an asexual, writing romantic material was a little challenging, but please share your thoughts with me. Your feedback inspired me to write a +55K word count series. I WILL UPLOAD TWO OR THREE SPECIAL CHAPTERS! I'm not going to let this go just yet. Those chapters will be SMUTTY. Since this is my first complete series, please let me know what you think. I love you all!

Taglist: @midnightpearlaurora @procrastination20 @faiirynyaa @deangirl96 @steelthespooder @t1asstuff @slut-for-evans-stan @esposamultifandom @rebecca-hvnstn @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @sammyxorae @filmologetica @n-o-p-e-never @stoneyggirl2 @hhiggs @yuckqr @steelthespooder @jaredpadonlyyyy @robynn9436-blog @x3zerochanx3 @lilbloggs @chriszgirl92 @ninii-winchester @monshirev @saturogojosgirl @necrobab3 @simpingfortoomanypeople @casey1-2007 @mystic-mara @kamisobsessed @mavichu @your-mcdonalds-mom13 @crooked-haven @deaniemyboo @queenofmanydreams @suckitands33 @artemys-ackles @thecutestaaakawaii @ladykitana90

@zaratahir @opheliadynah @spxideyver @jeysbae @neptua

@chirazsstuff @anyisaravia2001 @shanimallina87

@mggsrightfoot @supfan67 @mango-munchies @likedbygaslyy

[pinkyqily]

We'll help you through it [Ingrid engen x mapi lèon x r]

Contains : mention of depression

A/n : this a repost of my fics, my request are open

Least to say that you we're struggling life sucking every single one of your motion to keep living it felt like you lost all hope in your self you didn't know what it was but your mental health decline took a toll on you.

Every day felt like a struggle to be alive and keep on breathing. but thanks to your amazing girlfriends who were able to notice what was wrong with you.

It all started with when they had to leave a lot for away machetes you get that it was apart of their job but sometimes you felt lonely and jealous about what the two could be doing without it.

You doing what you do best overthink the whole situation but nevertheless you were able to push back.

You stopped answering there calls and texts whenever they sent in one. Just wachting the phone ring away without trying to pick it up.

Feeling worthless and unimportant as life would have been better if you just stopped living you thought to yourself.

But you never get close to doing it. It's been weeks since you last saw them as you've been ignored them.

You had a new routine now wake up work sleep and eat. And well repeat totally ignoring your other aspect of life.

Mapi and Ingrid had obviously noticed the pattern in your behavior and decided to vist you as soon has they could.

"Ingrid you think all this is enough". Mapi asked Ingrid showing her comfort bag that they brought for you filled with your favorite snacks to everything that you like.

three different brands of your favorite chocolate, huge ass blankets you wanted to get but didn't they had it your favorite movies had it makeup,dresses, accessories they had it all but mapi over here was still worrying that it wasn't enough.

"Mapi it enough or maybe to much". Ingrid questioned.

"Let's just go". she said to her girlfriend

They finally got your place with the spare key and weren't really expecting to see you in the condition that you were in.

With just one look at you it was quite obvious that you weren't getting enough sleep nor eating enough.

They both immediately dropped the things they had rushing to your side. It hurt them to see you this way like you were waiting on death.

Ingrid was the first to speak up. "Baby I'm so sorry we haven't been there for you".

"Nothing is your fault I'm particularly to blame".

"No don't say that about yourself".she told you

Mapi on the other hand didn't know what to say so she just pulled you three into a hug. you all stayed like that for a while before Ingrid started cleaning.

the whole place and convinced you to go take a bath so you could feel more relaxed. mapi was changing your bedsheets and placing the things that they got you.

By the time that you were out your places was looking better than it was before.

Ingrid made you a bowl of spicy soup putting it down and helping you with your hair and clothes on. You ate what Ingrid had prepare with mapi feeding you and not missing a single drop.

After that they both convinced you to leave the house for some fresh air. And that what you did getting in the car mapi first went back to there place to pick up bagheera to join you guys.

Having bagheera join you guys on the beach was perfect the cat being there made you perceived and calm. It wouldn't have been your normal couples walk if mapi didn't start talking you and Ingrida ears off.

Something that you missed even though she could go on for hours she was recently yapping about. how patri and pina were quite obvious about each other but to afraid to confess and how she was going to play cupid.

Let's to say you felt happy and a little better all you need was come comfort and love from you girls which they understood.

[koenigami]

happy birthday, handsome. tags : fluff!! wc : 900 masterlist

-

There was a period in Wriothesley’s life where time did not seem to have a significant meaning. Being a convict meant experiencing more or less the same usual routine until he didn’t need to throw a quick glance towards a clock in order to know what time it was. His body adjusted automatically, his stomach always starting to growl around the same time every day, his twitching hands and fingertips signalling that it was time for his daily training, and his drooping eyes and yawns telling him that it was time to head back to his cell. 

Life as the Duke, didn’t change Wriothesley’s perception of time for the better since he ceased to distinguish between day and night. The automatism and biological clock of his body disappeared, making him eat whenever he had time, sleep whenever he finished his duties, and head to the Pankration Ring whenever his thoughts and emotions seemed to get the best of him. 

All of a sudden, Wriothesley’s eyes started to trail more frequently towards the old grandfather clock in his office. He looked forward to every Tuesday and Friday, when you were sent to the Fortress of Meropide on behalf of Neuvillette in order to take care of administrative matters. You always showed up around the same time, and on the days that you didn’t, he couldn’t help but impatiently pace around his office, or sit in the cantine with a bouncing leg while shooting a look over his shoulder every once in a while in fear that he would miss you.

Luckily, the awkward greetings and occasional small talks mixed with fluttering hearts and sweet smiles very soon turned into planned dinners and dates, until you became a huge part of his life as much as he became of yours. 

-

It was late in the evening when Wriothesley threw himself in his chair with a deep exhale. With only a few tasks of which he had all already taken care of, it had been a quiet day so far, and usually those were his favourite kind of days. When he could aimlessly stroll through the fortress, work out whenever he felt like it, sit peacefully in his office and listen to music or read a book. But with you out of town, sent to Liyue for official affairs, it was simply a boring day. 

The fact that it was his birthday didn’t necessarily make anything better, though he had to admit that he felt silly. There had been days when his birthday had as much significance to him as any other day, until your loving self stepped into his life, threw everything upside down and made every single day significant. 

Leaning back into his seat, Wriothesley pondered about how he could possibly spend the remaining time of the night before going to sleep. He hadn’t been home in days, ever since you left, and he had no intention of doing so until your return, preferring the uncomfortable couch and throw-blanket over your shared bed. Home never felt the same without you. 

“Shit, shit, shit. Wriothesley!” You weren’t supposed to return for another few days. 

He’d recognise your voice everywhere at any time or place, but there was no denying that those quick stomps and breathless profanities that you spewed were yours as you climbed the staircase up to his office. 

 “I-I’m not late, am I? It’s still the 23rd, right?” His chuckle warmed your cheeks as your dishevelled self seemed to be quite amusing to him, hair a complete mess, and not too far away from an asthmatic attack while you braced your hands on your knees.  

With a heart so unbelievably full and beating irregularly, Wriothesley’s eyes automatically flew to the clock across the room and his lips stretched into a soft smirk. Of course, you didn’t miss it. 

“You have exactly one minute left, love.” His tall form stood up but before he could even take another step in your direction, you had already pounced on him. Arms tightly wrapped around his neck, chest against chest, hearts so close that their beats synched into one single melody- 

“I’m home.” You breathed into his ear, and Wriothesley was about to utter the same phrase before he settled for a simple hum instead and squeezed your waist tighter, pulling you further against him. His body relaxed entirely in your presence, the trail of kisses you left along his neck and up to his chin softening his knees until he swore he could hardly stand. 

“Happy birthday, handsome.” 

You breathed each other in like air. And you smiled against his lips when you noticed that he tasted the same as ever, still smelled so good, and still kissed so good. Wriothesley deepened the kiss, leaving you no choice but to brace yourself on him, hands flat on his broad chest. It was impossible to tell which one of you was having the upper hand as your grip on his shirt was as desperate as Wriothesley’s low sighs and groans that filled the quiet room. 

His thumb and index finger on your chin held you in place, and allowed you to pull back only when he himself was starting to get low on oxygen. Your skin was a little colder than his when he leaned his forehead against yours, heavy breaths mingling and your noses brushing one-two times, leaving love sick smiles on your faces. 

Yeah, you were definitely home.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (1)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care. 

Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries. 

Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late. 

I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full. 

Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season. 

CLICK TO READ MORE….

Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?

Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number. 

The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things. 

My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up. 

I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out. 

“Hola! Are you Amelia?” 

“Hola, yes I am.” 

“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.” 

Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga. 

“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.” 

“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.” 

“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”

“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Uh um, I used to play -“ 

“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth. 

“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!” 

“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us. 

“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work. 

“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next. 

“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?” 

“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?” 

“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up. 

“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say

“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house. 

“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape. 

“Milly, wait.”

“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.” 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.” 

3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal. 

[bbokicidal]

heyyy hi! Loving ur new theme! When u have time and if u want could u pls do some hcs for skz with a crush and how they’d confess? I bet Felix and Han would be like very blushy and so. Changbin gives off the vibes like “I wanna seem cool but end up being a dork and kicking my feet like a schoolgirl”. What do you reckon?

SKZ [OT8] + Having A Crush

Genre: Fluff Pairing: OT8 [Individual] x Reader Warnings: None?

방찬 - Chris:

♥ The most upfront about it. Tells you straight up one night after having dinner together; Confesses on your doorstep with his hands wringing in front of him.

♥♥ When he's done talking he'll put his hands behind his back and sway on his heels, lips pressed into a shy, thin smile. Very matter of fact about it and doesn't want to mislead you or get you confused at all. Very careful with his words but also straight to the point.

♥♥♥ If you feel the same way, he'll be very giddy about it and all smiley, pink in the ears. If you don't return the feelings, he'll understand - bidding you a goodnight and returning to his car with shaky hands. He'll just have to work through it on his own.

리노 - Minho:

♥ Very cautious on how he approaches it because he's the one unsure of his own feelings. Also straight to the point but almost a little aggressive about it because he's not sure how to get the words out, per say? Talking very loudly but also saying very little.

♥♥ Almost frustrated with himself. He wishes he would've told you sooner, because he let his feelings fester for so long and now he's not sure he can take it if you reject him.

♥♥♥ If you feel the same way, he'll be extremely relieved and ask if you want to go on a proper date together sometime in the near future. If you don't return the feelings, he'll give you a curt nod and hum as if he's processing the information. He might distance himself from you for a bit - Just so he can get through it alone. He doesn't need comfort or care.

창빈 - Changbin:

♥ Very flustered with his own feelings. He's so shy about expressing them if they're big emotions so he has to ask Chris for help on how to get it out, what to say to you.

♥♥ But he does it!! After working during a long day, he finds comfort in your apartment eating a warm meal together (takeout, obvi.) and watching YouTube videos for a few hours. He confesses sitting next to you on the floor, hoping it's the right moment to talk about it in the comfort of your own home. It's a chill moment, he's just a chill guy.

♥♥♥ If you return the feelings, he'll giggle to himself and his ears will flush red with admiration. He'll be sure to make you his partner officially soon enough. If you don't return the feelings, he'll play it off with a shy smile and nod, understanding that everything doesn't go as hoped sometimes. He'll excuse himself and leave the apartment, wishing you a goodnight. Afterwards it's almost as if your friendship wasn't changed by it at all.

현진 - Hyunjin:

♥ Makes an art piece to express his admiration for you and gifts it to you when you have lunch together one day. He's best at anything art related - talking is not his strong suit, and neither is using words. (Paboracha, everyone.)

♥♥ You've never seen a painting so beautiful and he hopes you recognize it's you standing in the pouring rain, a glow emanating around your figure in the portrait that seemed to say you were his sunshine on the darkest days.

♥♥♥ If you return the feelings, he'll be happier than ever. Red in the cheeks, smiling, hugging onto you and asking if you'd want to go on a date later that evening - and talking about how he'll fill your future shared home with lots of art like this one, too. If you don't return the feelings, he'll nod it off and understand. You need to keep the painting though - He won't be able to look at it without feeling his heart shatter. It just wasn't in fate's design, it seems.

한 - Jisung:

♥ Anxious. Giddy. Very open to telling you and gets his point across with many words, even if he's really saying very little. He sits you down to tell you, admitting his admiration when Chan steps out of the studio for a few moments to get a drink from the cafeteria. He finds solace in the studio so.. this was the best place for him to do it.

♥♥ His hands wring in his lap and he's bouncing his leg, trying to keep himself still but failing. He's anxious, riddled with curiosity and adoration and also the horror of - what if you reject him?

♥♥♥ If you return the feelings, he'll immediately make it official. Expect him to be all over you, holding your hand and having you close to him - bragging to the guys that you're his. If you don't return the feelings, he'll need to take some time away from you. For his own sanity and safety.

필릭스 - Felix:

♥ Possibly the most excited to express his feelings towards you. Gets you a little muffin basket and some goodies when he knows you aren't feeling well, and then pays you a visit to deliver them all. He'll sit on your bed and quietly express how he wants to take care of you all the time - provide for you, spoil you, treat you like his prince/princess.

♥♥ His excitement outweighs any sense of nervousness, honestly.

♥♥♥ If you share his feelings, he'll make sure to plan the sweetest date known to mankind. A cafe date, maybe. Or a picnic with candles and lots of sweets. If you don't return his feelings, he'll be sure to take care of you regardless - admiring from afar until his feelings fade and he can move on.

승민 - Seungmin:

♥ Kind of.. quiet about it? Hesitant. Gets you a bouquet and a card and asks you that way, leaving it somewhere he knows you'll see it. He can't do it in person - You might assume it's because he's a bit cold or a bit of a meanie at heart, but it's actually because he is far too shy.

♥♥ When he gets your text to call, he does it immediately and shyly explains over FaceTime while picking at his jeans that he really does like you and that it isn't a big joke - That he's serious, and wants to be more than friends. (And the way his neck turns beet red gives his honesty away.)

♥♥♥ If you return his feelings, he'll be - very excited, but it won't outwardly show other than his small smile. He might cry a tad bit, actually. If you don't return his feelings, he'll understand and end the call with a bit of a sad laugh. He knew he wouldn't be good boyfriend material...

아이엔 - Jeongin:

♥ The most sweet, boyfriend-like, college crush-esque vibes with his admission. He's got a little sign made asking you to the homecoming dance and it's super cute and wholesome - and his nose and cheeks are covered in glitter from making the sign and his hands are shaking as he holds it - but he's got flowers and he's all dressed up in a cute set of jeans and a letterman jacket,

♥♥ He surprises you at your front door to ask you with the little dance-posal. But the bottom of the sign also asks for you to go with him as 'more than his friend' and he hopes the point gets across.

♥♥♥ If you share his feelings, he's going to be beaming for the rest of his days. He'll brag to his friends, always have his hand on your hip, and every Friday is a date night for just the two of you. If you don't share his feelings, it's going to be the most embarrassing moment of his life. And he will in fact never ask anyone out ever again, ready to die a virgin.

[futurepastme]

Unmatched

[Soulmate Au]

Fate had a weird sense of humor, Merlin thought as he traced the name scrawled across his left rib.

When he was a boy, Merlin couldn't wait to meet his soulmate. He would trace the words of his soulmark with care, imagining what his soulmate would look like, what their favorite game would be and if they would like Merlin.

Then he learned how to read, and the figure he'd imagined before got more detailed. He would picture a boy like him, that would climb trees and play in the forest. They would get in trouble together and be the closest friends ever, even closer than him and Will were.

And then Merlin got to an age where he could understand the importance of his soulmate's name. What it really meant to have that name on his skin, how dangerous it was. Merlin finally understood why his mother looked sad when he spoke of his soulmate, and why he wasn't allowed to tell anyone what name was engraved on his skin.

Now, Merlin sat at his new cot inside Gaius' chambers. Tracing the name that once upon a time was the source of joy and curiosity, and that now brought him confusion, sadness and disappointment.

Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, was nothing like what Merlin had imagined, and everything he feared he would be.

How could the Fates have matched him with someone so arrogant, so selfish. Someone that would pray on the weak the way the Prince was doing with his servant earlier.

That night Merlin mourned what he would never have; someone that would accept him as he was, someone that he could be himself with, no secrets and no lies. He mourned the love he would never have, all those dreams he’d had as a child, and the promised future that would never be his.

He tried to focus, instead, on the one good thing about his first day at Camelot.

Even though Arthur was Merlin's soulmate, Merlin clearly wasn't his. The lack of recognition of Merlin's name in the prince’s eyes was enough to know.

That was one less thing to deal with, and he tried to find comfort in the idea that he could dislike the prince at a distance and not be forced to be with someone like him.

Then the dragon happened, and the witch.

And Merlin saved Arthur's life. Again, and again, and again. And Arthur saved his.

He learned that Arthur was so much more than the idiot he was on Merlin's first day.

Eventually, Merlin started to mourn the fact they weren't a match.

Soon enough, Merlin realized how much he loved his prince and he tried to find comfort on the idea of being his friend. If that's all he could be, then he would take it.

Yet, deep down, his heart longed for what would never be.

Despite being his servant for a while, Merlin never learned the name of Arthur's soulmate.

Arthur insisted on bathing by himself and when Merlin got back, he had his trousers on.

One day, against his better judgment, Merlin found himself asking about it.

“Don't worry, it's not your name.”

Merlin winced. “I didn't think it was.” Of course he didn't, he knew it wasn't him. But to have the actual confirmation hurt him in a way he wasn't expecting.

Arthur continued, not noticing Merlin's reaction. “Besides, I'm sure your match will be more than happy to show you their mark once you find them.”

This time, Arthur was looking at him, and noticed how Merlin's posture grew tense.

Merlin tried to focus on the polishing he was doing, planning on dropping the subject. But he could feel the hint of tears threatening to flood his eyes, that longing he always shoved down trying to resurface.

“Merlin?” Arthur said softly, noticing Merlin's mood. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” He muttered, pushing away the sadness that had overcome him.

“You know we're friends, right? I mean, I know I don't acknowledge it often, but surely…”

Merlin risked a glance, and the concern he saw in Arthur's eyes warmed his heart. He couldn't help being honest for once. “I'm not a match with my soulmate.” He said quickly before turning his attention back to his task.

What the hell was he doing, telling Arthur this?

Arthur felt the shock of Merlin’s words hit him, and he froze in place. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

Non-matched soulmates were rare, usually one could rest assured that no matter what name they had on their skin, their owner would have your name on theirs. But there were those rare, unfortunate ones who would have the name of someone with a different match.

The idea that Merlin of all people would have a non-matched soulmark was unthinkable. The Fates couldn't be so cruel to make the sweetest, kindest, bravest, most loyal person Arthur has ever known, a non-matched. Unthinkable.

And yet, Arthur kept his gaze sharp on Merlin's body language as the boy fought back his sadness. Very cruel, indeed.

“For what it's worth, Merlin, I think anyone would be very lucky to have you as a partner.

Soulmate or not.”

Arthur saw an hesitant smile hinting to show on Merlin's lips before the boy glanced at him again, “Thanks, Arthur, it means a lot.”

Merlin thought this would be the end of it, that Arthur would let the subject go and they wouldn't talk about it again.

It took a while, but the subject did resurface.

One night, after Uther tried to marry Arthur off to some princess that wasn't his soulmate, Prince Arthur brought the subject up again. Softly, as he was tucked away in bed, with his back turned away from Merlin.

“What's your soulmate like?” The question was so quiet that Merlin almost didn't hear it.

He thought for a while if he should answer it – how much he could answer – but the way Arthur asked the question, like a curious child that was afraid of saying something wrong, made Merlin open up once again.

“Brave,” he started, and as Merlin stared from Arthur's back, back into the fire, the words started to spill out as easily as breathing. “Kind, strong, annoying,” he laughed, “smart, and very, very beautiful.”

He waited a second before continuing:

“I didn't like them at the beginning, you know?” Merlin smiled fondly at the fire as he recalled those first days in Camelot. “I thought the Fates had made a mistake by making them my soulmate.”

His smile faded slowly, until it turned into a frown. “I was actually glad that we weren't a match.”

Merlin turned his gaze back to Arthur and found the prince glancing back at him from over his shoulder. Merlin smiled as he continued, “that didn't last very long, by the end of the week I changed my opinion about them, and within the month there was nothing I wouldn't have done for them.”

“You're friends, then?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah. We're good friends, I think.” Merlin looked back to the fire and tried to keep his gaze there.

He heard the shoveling of the sheets as Arthur turned around. “What did they say when you told them?”

“Told them what?”

“That they were your soulmate.”

Merlin looked back to the prince with a frown of confusion. “I didn't tell them anything.”

This time Arthur was the confused one, “why not?”

Merlin stared at Arthur's eyes intensely, he took in Arthur's position – tucked in under the sheets, with only his head poking out – and his displeased stare. He looked cute, like an angry child upset with a grown up that denied him candy for dinner.

He felt his heart drown in that familiar longing that by now was almost an old friend.

“I can't do that to them, Arthur. I can't put them in that position.”

Arthur raised himself into one arm, “but, Merlin, they might choose to be with you regardless of what's on their skin.”

“No.”

“Yes, Merlin. I already told you once, anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“You don't get it.” Merlin stood up from his place in front of the fireplace, and made his way to kneel on the floor beside Arthur.

Their heads were close enough to see every emotion displayed. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should go that far, if it was worth the risk. But Arthur was always worth the risk, and he made a point to keep his eyes locked on his as he said: “I love my soulmate Arthur.”

Those words seemed to open tightly closed gates and Merlin was suddenly overwhelmed by his feelings. He felt the tears fill his eyes and a sad smile form on his lips. He never said it out loud before. The fact that Arthur was the first one to hear it, was just right.

Arthur saw the wave of emotions shown on Merlin's face, and waited in silence until he had a chance to recover.

Merlin was grateful for the prince's patience, and once he had his bearings again, he looked straight into Arthur's eyes as he continued;

“I could never make them choose.” Merlin felt his breath caught in his lungs as the tears threatened to show up again. “They have their own soulmate, they have the chance to find their match. I can't be the reason why they don't.”

Arthur opened his mouth to say something but Merlin didn't let him. Instead, he said in a soft voice still looking at Arthur's eyes: “I just want them to be happy, Arthur.”

Merlin paused. Arthur gave him a surprised look that made him look like a sad puppy.

“If I have to watch ‘em be happy from a distance then that's what I'm going to do, all it matters to me is that they are happy.”

“They should still have the option, Merlin.” Arthur said softly.

“There is no option, Arthur. You have no idea” he smiled sadly at his phrasing, “how important this whole soulmate thing is for them.”

“You know how it is,” he continued, “we spend our whole lives tracing the name on our skin, imagining the face that will go with it, what it will be like when we meet them.”

Arthur nodded and Merlin couldn't face him anymore. “I can't have them feeling like I felt, and I can't have them feeling like they have some type of obligation towards me, because they don't.”

He looked back at Arthur with a firm gaze. “My soulmate has no obligations towards me just because I have their name. I know them. They have a good heart, a noble one. They would do what they thought was right regardless of their own feelings, and I don't want them to do that. Not about this.”

He softened his gaze and managed to put up a sad smile. “I love them, they are my soulmate and they are my friend, and that's enough.”

“It doesn't look like it’s enough, Merlin.” Arthur whispered softly. He hadn't turned his gaze away from Merlin the whole time he had been talking and he’d watched the emotions dance around Merlin's face every time he dared to look up.

His heart ached for his friend’s fate and he had the sudden urge to either hug the sadness out of him, or raid the whole of Camelot after Merlin's soulmate and order them to give him a chance.

He did neither.

“I won't lie and say that that's the dream,” Merlin said with a heavy sigh. “You know what the soulmate dream is.”

Merlin threw all caution to the wind – if there was any left at this point – and raised a hand to Arthur's shoulder, landing it softly against the prince's nightshirt. He once again brought his eyes to meet the Prince's, and held it there, letting his barriers down and allowing his eyes to clearly show his feelings.

“It's not in my fate to live the soulmate dream, Arthur. I'm not gonna say it's fair, that I wouldn't wish it to be different,” he paused as he felt the tears coming back and his heart getting tight. “And I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, because it does. It does and it did, and in a way it always will hurt.”

He felt thick tears running down his cheek, but somehow he kept his eyes soft and managed a kind smile that showed a little bit of his teeth. “My fate is not with them, but I'm glad I can still be in their life as a friend. And even if it hurts, I'll be happy when they find their match.”

The fire cracked loudly through the silence that had settled between them. Merlin took the chance to run his sleeve across his eyes, and settled down back into the ground, pulling his face and body away from Arthur. The longer the silence stretched, the faster Merlin's heart would beat, second-guessing his decision of opening up to his Prince.

Arthur took his time, his sharp gaze never left Merlin, but studied his every movement while repeating the whole conversation in his head.

After what it felt like an eternity to Merlin, Arthur finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “As your friend,” he said, eyes still firm on Merlin's. “I have to say you're an idiot for not giving yourself a chance with them. You should tell them, and give you both a chance to at least try this possibility.”

Merlin hunched down, he felt his breathing stutter when he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly shut. He felt cold and breathless, and every heartbeat deafened him like they were warning bells resonating through his entire body.

“However,” Arthur continued, his hand itching to reach Merlin's chin and bring the boy’s blue eyes back to meet his own. “I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing.”

Merlin raised his gaze but let his head down, looking at Arthur through teared eyelashes.

“It's an impossible situation you find yourself in, Merlin. And while I don't believe you found the best outcome, I can see the nobility in it, and I can relate to it as well.”

Arthur gave a breathy hum, before continuing

“You know, I never really thought about you as the self-sacrificing idiot, but considering the amount of times you've made a stupid decision to try and save my life, I should've seen this coming.” He gave a side smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Merlin huffed a laugh, it was half-hearted, but genuine enough, and Arthur felt satisfied when Merlin replied:

“I might be an idiot, but you'll always be a prat.”

“As long as that never changes.” He smiled, Merlin smiled back, and the thick atmosphere that had taken over Arthur's chambers dissipated just like that.

Merlin's eyes were still teared up, though they now shone with a small light that had dimmed down during their conversation before. This time, Arthur was the one to raise a hand to Merlin's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze that he hoped would comfort him somehow.

“Thank you, Merlin, for sharing so much with me. You didn't have to, and I appreciate your trust. Know that it has not been misplaced.”

“Prat.” Merlin's smile was genuine this time, and his eyes were soft again, though the usual light was still duller than normal, they shone brighter by the second.

Arthur nodded to himself and gave Merlin a last squeeze and a little shake, before pulling his hand away and dismissing him. “Go get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded and collected himself, getting up off the floor and running his sleeve through his face one last time. He watched as Arthur lay back down on his pillow and couldn't resist the urge to tuck him in, fixing his covers where they had slipped down to his waist.

Arthur had the lost puppy eyes again, watching Merlin as he tucked him in. His body gave small goosebumps where Merlin's hand pressed when fixing the bedspread around him.

With a last pat on the cover, Merlin turned around and headed to the door.

“Good night, Arthur,” he muttered before closing the door.

“Good night, Merlin,” Arthur whispered softly to the empty room.

That night, Merlin slept like a log. The emotional exhaustion he felt in the past hours knocked him dead the moment his body hit his bed. He would have to process his feelings properly at some point but not today, today he slept and let the night wash his worries away.

That night, Arthur couldn't sleep. He kept replaying this night's discoveries in his head. Tossing and turning around in bed, he couldn't seem to relax. His hand would reach down to his inner thigh and trace the name he knew was there, like it had millions of times before, but this time the feeling that came with it wasn't reassuring nor hopeful. Not when his mind was filled with Merlin's sad eyes and teary face.

And as the phantom touch of Merlin's hands still warmed him, for the first time, Arthur prayed. To the new gods and the old ones, to the universe itself and to the Fates that decided men's destinies. He prayed for his friend's happiness and future. And most of all, he prayed and wished with all his heart that he could somehow find a way to help Merlin's heartache.

He hoped that the morning would bless him with the answer.

End of Act.1

Gods, I miss writing. My new job is sucking out my soul and I barely have time for existing anymore, but I did have this lost in my drafts and since I miss posting I decided to muster up the strength to finish this one up. I did copy and paste without editing, though, so I'm sorry for any mistakes and weird formatting.

Sorry it ends up like that, teehee, but had I posted the draft you would be hanging mid-dialog so I consider this a win, for me, that is.

Thank you for landing me your time, I hope you enjoyed it 💜

The good news is I do know where I'm going with this and I'll try to write more this next week. The bad news is I have no idea when I'll finish it or if I'll be able to write at all next week, but we'll see.

Happy ending is a promise, but we'll have more angst first. And hurt Merlin.

Keep warm, drink water and remember to take your medicine if you have one.

Ps: (and this is me being hopeful) I really don't know if or when I'm posting more so if anybody wants to be tagged when I do, please lmk