#i have some more babes on the horizon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

konigslittleliebling · 4 months ago

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request; You asked for Sandor and Daryl's requests, and since they happen to be my biggest obsession, I shall deliver.

For Sandor, I might sound too horny, but any smut is appreciated. Love the classic Snow or Stark! Reader x Sandor, ofc, but lately, I've been imagining an AU with a Targaryen! Reader x Sandor, which I think would be sooo cool, I've been looking for a fanfic like that but haven't found any that caught my attention.

Maybe one of these ideas catches your eye! Can't wait to read them.

Love, 🫧

you’re so right there are NO targ!reader x sandor fics ANYWHERE. allow me to remedy this immediately 🙂‍↕️☝🏻

table of contents; 18 yr age gap, implied stockholm syndrome, arranged marriage, the lannisters stay holding innocent girls hostage, slight prep, p in v sex, implied pregnancy sex, breeding kink, cum-plugging

chapter two ->

OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND.

you were but a baby when robert baratheon had you usurped from dragonstone.

stannis baratheon had been tasked with leading the garrison to capture you and your siblings — viserys who was some years older, and daenerys who was perhaps two minutes your junior — but ser willem darry and his smugglers managed to put them on a ship and sail the braavosi crossing where they lived in exile, and continue to do so as far as you’re aware.

but you hadn’t been so lucky; and stannis wasn’t sent to sack dragonstone alone. with him raged loyal bannermen, northern and westerly tribes, paid in generous coin to ensure every white-haired babe was brought to the red keep and presented at the fat king’s feet.

it had been a young sandor clegane whose arms you’d been whisked into after being ripped from those of your wet nurse.

robert wanted you dead, but it had been his wife who was sympathetic to your family’s cause.

“if what we hear is true, and the targaryen boy has indeed fled to essos, it is only a matter of time before he raises his armies and crosses the narrow sea in sought of his birthright. let the child live, let us use her to our leverage.”

she had said.

“her mother is dead, rhaegar is dead. she, an infant, is no threat to you. it is the one who got away that you ought to worry about. that boy will have a rage in him; you know what the gods say.”

so with some persuasion and much begrudging, he spared you on one condition: you marry into one of the houses that serve him.

“house clegane are among the most steadfast. my grandsire formed them from nothing and gifted them a tower house with land for it to sit on. a mere knightly house perhaps, but that’s more than she deserves, and we’ll still possess power over her and her status.”

said the queen.

“ser gregor hasn’t long taken a wife, though i hear the hound has yet to make any marital arrangements of his own. breed her, your grace. have her birth a litter of clegane pups, let us strengthen our allegiances. build an army within, if you will. she can remain here — he has taken up service to me and will not leave unless i dismiss him.”

“she’s a baby.”

“not forever she won’t be.”

and on your eighteenth name day, you were wed.

the crownlands are calm beneath you, a salty breeze wafting in across blackwater bay. the silver of your hair floats behind you whilst you gaze from the balcony of your chambers — secluded and isolated from the rest of the keep.

you spend most of your time here, looking out beyond westeros’ east coast. somewhere out there, your brother and sister remain hidden from the king’s vindictive grip. the last you’ve heard, they were laying low in pentos. you wonder how they bide their time. are they cooped up like you? out of sight, out of mind? do they look longingly at the sea, thinking of you?

one day, you muse, a fleet will pierce the horizon and it will brandish the three-headed dragon. your brother’s ships will roll over the waves and you’ll be united once more with the sister you’ve not seen since the womb.

“one day.” you sigh, resting your chin in your palm.

then the hinges of your door creak on themselves and you turn, expecting to see your handmaiden, the only company you’re used to keeping during the day.

“husband.” you greet, standing from your chair. “i thought you were lili, i’d sent for some supper.”

“aye, i passed her on my way here.” sandor tells you, bolting the door behind him.

you frown and wade between the curtains to your room. “i see. i’ve been craving lemon tartlets as of late and i—”

“don’t want to be eatin’ that shite when you’re pregnant. i sent for some chicken.” he dismisses, settling himself at your table where an untouched jug of summerwine sits at its centre. “won’t be needin’ any of this, either.”

you watch him pour himself a large glass, the blood-red liquid vanishing as quickly as it appeared when he gulps it down in the same instant. “how do you know i’m pregnant?”

“your tits have grown.” he responds nonchalantly, refilling his cup. “and you’ve been all over me like i’m one of those lemon fuckin’ tarts.”

you look down at your belly which doesn’t seem any rounder than usual, and rub a hand over it. “i think i’d know if i was pregnant.”

“jorah mormont sent word this morning.” sandor tells you after a heavy pause, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“you’re forbidden from discussing ser jorah and any knowledge of my siblings’ whereabouts with me.” you rationalise, cautious, and approach slowly until you’re standing over him.

“that’s why this stays between us.” he grunts, casting you a sidelong glance. he leans away from the table so you’ve got room to sit yourself on his lap, then reaches around you to empty the last of the distilled beverage into his glass.

“okay. . .” you start, feeling a stir in your stomach at the stiff scent on his tongue. perhaps his inkling isn’t so far-fetched after all. “so, what news?”

“your twin’s been married off to some dothraki cunt.” he informs you after a slurp of wine. “your brother traded her in for forty-thousand men.”

your eyes widen like planets and you sink against him, unsure how to process his words. “daenerys. . .”

“you’ll get your wish soon enough.” sandor rasps, sliding his empty cup across the table’s oak. “your brother’s comin’, you’ll soon be free of me.”

your pale eyes skit to confront his chestnut ones. “are all young girls made to marry strange men?”

“only the unlucky ones.” he husks, fingers subconsciously toying with a platinum lock of hair that cascades over his chest plate.

“i think i’m one of the luckier ones.” you offer him a small smile — one he refuses to return.

he was the one who took you from your home, the one who carried you on horseback and presented you to the man who’d lodged a warhammer in the chest of your brother and overthrown your family from their throne.

but you’ve always been good to him, despite being wed to him against your will. he’s never known why you were always so seemingly fond of him, but it never occurred to him to ask you either.

you’ve managed to wedge yourself into his heart where he had a soft spot already reserved just for you. maybe out of guilt, or some secret second thing, he’s always looked out for you. kept tabs. and he’s relieved that you got stuck with the likes of him over that of his brother or meryn trant.

he’s never raised a hand to you; and he waited for you to initiate marital relations on your terms, which took time, but he was too concerned with carrying out his duty in keeping you safe to mind.

he’s no angel, but you’d be subject to torrid treatment had you been betrothed to literally anybody else. he supposes, in a twisted and bitter-sweet way, you did get lucky.

though sandor would sooner chance married life with a khal than with himself. your sister got luckier.

“one day, will you tell me why it is that i’m here? it has something to do with my father, doesn’t it?” you fiddle with the various buckles and straps that fasten your husband’s armour. “all i know is this place, but i know i don’t belong here. the people, they look at me like i’m an imposter.”

sandor lifts his hand to tuck a white-blonde strand behind your ear. “you’ll hate me if i do, and i don’t deserve you as it is.”

“you’re a good man.” you gush, cupping his scarred cheek in your palm. you’re both able to relax around one another and it’s refreshing. “there’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you.”

“how you got here would.” he gruffs, retracting from your touch to avoids your eyes, then gnaws at his lower lip as he thumbs the thin silk of your skirts.

you sigh and shoot him a knowing look, then slide your hand down to rest against his breast plate. “this is a very precious thing.” you begin, fingers drumming gently to the left of his chest where his heart beats beneath. “now, i’m the only one who knows you have one of these, and it’s bigger than you let be known. i think it’s bigger than you’d like, and i think that scares you.”

“that’s some sermon.” he grumbles with a smirk, meeting your gaze again. “you ought to write a book on poetry.”

you smack him in the shoulder, barely budging him. “must you always ruin the moment?”

his lips quirk, eyes glinting like they do only with you.

“would i make a good poet?” you ask, scraping your fingers through his comb-over. he jerks his head back and delivers a warning pinch to your thigh. he hates his hair being touched. “you tend to go off on tangents.”

“i’ve not much else to do,” you mumble, instead busying yourself with the mucky fabric of his cloak, off-white in comparison to your mane. “i’m held up in here all day, reading or. . . well, mainly reading. i’d love to see the world.”

“you can see most of it from there.” sandor deadpans, motioning with a jut of his chin to your window.

“that’s hardly the same.” you utter, crestfallen.

“i can’t do anything ‘bout that,” he tells you, as he has many a time before. “my job is to keep you out of trouble, and out of the king’s way. if he’d had it his way, you’d be amongst the bones of your ancestors. you can thank the queen for that.”

you roll your eyes and stand from his knee to cross the room, arms hugging your middle. “i still don’t understand why she saved me. she hates me.”

“you’re a good bargaining chip.” he says simply and a little too blunt. “besides, she probably didn’t think promising you to me would be such a mercy. make no mistake, doing you a favour was not her intention.”

“we ought to escape,” you turn to face him, naïve hope swelling in your eyes. “you and i. you hate it here, too. we should leave, travel to essos, find my brother. you can join his army; you love fighting, don’t you? then we’ll come back and help him take back my family’s throne. and then he’ll give you whatever castle you want, and we can—”

“woman, you’re giving me a headache.” he cuts you off, pinching at the bridge of his crooked nose. “i’ve told you before, we’re not fuckin’ leaving and that’s the end of it.”

your lip starts to quiver and you sniffle, turning your back to him again. “i wish i knew who brought me to this place.” you whisper, angrily swiping at a sullen tear. “i wish i knew so i could kill them, or. . . ask you to kill them for me.”

you look over your shoulder at him. his head is bowed and he’s gone uncharacteristically quiet. “you know, don’t you? i know you do.” you sniff again, a second tear painting a damp track down your cheek. “are they dead?”

“he’s been dealt a hand worse than death,” sandor murmurs, lifting his head to regard you with an expression close to sadness or remorse or something similar. “he had to watch you grow, and now he’s vowed before the gods to protect you from the same cunts who paid him to capture you.”

the penny doesn’t drop, however, and he’s not sure if that pleases him or not. he’s lucky you think so highly of him. you’d never pin him to such a misguidance.

“oh,” your shoulders sag as you try to interpret it, or maybe you’d better not try.

“hells,” you hear him curse, chair scraping against the stone floor when he stands. “c’mon, now.”

he’s soon behind you, his presence casting a looming shadow over your frame, meek in comparison. two large, paw-like hands find purchase at your shoulders; so big that they weigh heavily at the slopes of your neck.

“listen, you’re here whether you like it or not. frankly it doesn’t matter.” he gives you a squeeze and you lull your head back against his chest. “the stark girl’s in the same boat as you, and i’ve got to put up with her bitchin’ all day, don’t wanna come back to your whingein’, too.”

he turns you to face him, hooking a finger under your chin to guide your face up. “and it could always be worse, so fuckin’ shut up about it.” it’s just the guilt talking, not that you know that.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, lifting your hands to wrap around his wrists. “you’re good to me and i’m grateful for that. i didn’t mean—”

“i know what you meant.” he takes a step back but you keep hold of him. “stop yapping on about it.”

you force a small smile, defeated, and let your arms fall to your side. “okay, i’m sorry.”

“and stop that.” he presses an expansive palm to the small of your back and urges you ahead of him. “don’t upset the babe.”

“i’m not with child.” you scold, folding your arms as he leads you to the bed. “i can’t be, i just can’t.”

he taps the base of your back, fingertips patting your buttocks. “well, with the way we’ve been fuckin’ it’s pretty unavoidable, pet.”

“they’d kill it.” you tell him, frightened, and allow him to position you atop the mattress. “they’d probably throw it from this very tower and have me watch.”

“nah,” he rebuffs, unclasping his gauntlets before moving to unbuckle his belt. “they want your lineage as diluted as possible. you’ll birth cleganes who’ll be of no threat to the crown.”

you huff, lifting your hips for him when he hikes your silks up to your waist. you do the rest. “so, what? you’re to breed my bloodline from existence. erase us entirely?”

“somethin’ like that.” he retorts, indifferent, and runs a steady hand up the face of your thigh.

“you’d think they’d want to strengthen theirs by marrying me to joffrey, or something.” you go on, now completely naked and spread wide for him.

sandor eyes you, incredulous, then sinks his fingers into the plush of your thighs where he leaves ten perfect crescents in their wake. “i’ve a stronger claim than that little cunt.”

“yes, i’ve heard the rumours.” you sigh when his fingers finally kiss your centre, gliding through your slit with torturous lento.

“ain’t rumours if they’re true.” he murmurs drowsily, wilted eyes fixated on the way you flutter and throb beneath his touch.

you take your lower lip between your teeth when he sinks a thick digit within you, easing into your warmth the way he knows you like. “a treasonous statement.”

“gonna tell on me?” he challenges, moreso drones. you whine when he retracts his hand from your heat, but it’s replaced with thrilling anticipation when he reaches for his trouser’s hem.

“i wouldn’t do such a thing.” you say seriously, taking his quip to heart, much to his irritation. he spreads you wider for him and his cock bulges at the sight of you — utterly soaked and clearly too empty for yours or his liking.

he takes himself in his hand, stroking once, twice, then frees his length to position it at your slick. before you can think or blink or do much else your cunt stretches to accommodate him, and had you not been so fucking wet it might’ve taken more than a lacklustre buck of his hips for his cockhead to slip past your greedy little hole.

you mewl, head thudding back as he stills within you, taking a second. then suddenly he’s bottoming out inside of you and that familiar bump against your summit shoots a bolt straight to your brain where a lewd moan soon succeeds.

he groans, suspecting he’ll never grow accustomed to your tightness no matter how many times he ruins you. with his teeth gritted, he manoeuvres you so your right leg is locked around his waist, the steel of his armour that he was too impatient to remove cool against your skin, then straddles your left leg and scoots himself closer to your core.

if anything, he slides a little deeper and you go as rigid as a board beneath him. “fuck’s sake,” he grunts, the veins in his neck swelling. “squeezin’ the life out’f me.”

“sorry.” you try, strangled. you’re not in the slightest bit sorry.

“stop that.” he gives your hips a squeeze, then starts to set a slow pace, dragging perhaps half of his length from you before pushing himself back to the hilt.

as he eases you open on his cock, he finds it easier to withstand the clamping of your walls and positions a clumsy hand at your slit, rubbing between your folds and nudging your clit with each pass of his rough fingertips.

you’re spread nicely for him, like always. needless to say, cersei couldn’t have been more wrong when she promised you to him. if she was to find out how much fun the two of you have, she’d have you swap places with sansa stark in an instant.

sandor’s eyes switch lazily between your face and your cunt, one of which gapes around his girth whilst the other gapes around nothing but breathy moans and the occasional silent scream. your eyes are clenched shut, as is your hole, hugging him in a vice that has no interest in letting go.

“hells, woman.” he hisses, his fingers retreating from your centre to fist the sheets beside your head. it’s taking everything for him to not jackhammer into you, and with some pretty impressive self-control he maintains a fairly constant rhythm, cockhead grazing your most sensitive parts on its way to butt against your cervix.

you jolt and twitch, unable to move even if you wanted to with your leg pinned around his middle.

each time he retracts his cock and penetrates you again, his base becomes flush with your mound, his wiry bush grazing your clit. that familiar pressure in your lower belly begins to build, like a chord ready to snap.

it never takes long for him to fuck you into this state. you usually come undone around him long before he loses himself within you, often a writhing vessel for him as he chases his own high having drawn two, maybe three climaxes from you beforehand.

“sandor,” you manage, broken and shrill.

“i know—shit.” with every pump, each harsher than the last, he strikes the spot that only he’s known, and only he can reach. the hand that previously held your leg up surrenders, moving to palm at your stomach where he presses ever so slightly. it’s firmer than usual, save for the way he can feel himself bulging under the skin he’s pawing. “not pregnant, huh?”

“i can’t be.” you mumble again in a wavering tone, leg dropping to dangle limply over the bedside.

he hums, skeptical, then leans down to burrow impossibly deeper. somehow, he does, slotting himself into regions you didn’t know were there.

your walls latch to him, massaging every bulbous vein and moist-slicken ridge. he starts to lose his composure, hips snapping against yours with desperation and vigour.

sweat drips from his hair, a crude sheen dampening the neck of his tunic which peeks out above his breast plate. his thrusts retain some bruising power, a dull ache starting to twinge where your bodies collide.

“c’mon, girl.” he rasps, abandoning the way he kneads your belly to bite a pinch against your arse. you yelp, bucking up against him. he spears into you sharply when you do and you both tense at the shockwaves that ripple between where you’re connected. “that’s it, c’mon.”

his fingers nip at your hind again, hoping you’ll keep pushing into him. “there ya go.” he’s watching you now, rolling his hips at a tempo that grows sloppier by the second. “i know it’s coming, you might as well give it to me.” he tells you, lifting you from the mattress slightly so your breasts press firmly to the cold steel that clads his chest. you let out a surprised whine, your nipples hardening against the metal surface, then with a final strenuous hit against the roof of your cunt, your strain dwindles and that knot in your core’s pit finally snaps.

a thick, hot wetness puddles where his base melds to your swollen pussy and a low growl reverberates from him, the vibration of it narrowing at your cunt. you cling to him, hands planted at his shoulders whilst you bask in the glory of your orgasm.

your back hits the bed again, damp from your juices trickling out onto it. the warmth of his precum leaking into you goads a hum from your lips and you smile, the halo of your hair creating the illusion of molten steel around your head, shimmering against the low light of your room.

soon he’s spilling into you, his generous load bloating your stomach the way he seems to desire. when he’s emptied into you with a deep groan, he waits until he’s softened before detaching from you, his seed following suit. with a thick finger he scoops it back inside, plugging your swollen, spent hole much to your chagrin.

“with some luck, it’ll look like you,” he drawls with a lopsided smirk, certain his seed has taken this time, and tucks himself away with his free hand.

you lay there, still on display for him as you catch your breath, and muster up the strength to glare at him. “i’ve got some very unladylike things to say to you.”

“can’t be more unladylike than lying there with your husband’s finger up your—”

the way your thighs shut around his hand and trap it there cuts him off. “can’t be more unladylike than snapping my husband’s finger off, you mean?”

“. . .i’ve got nine others.”

#divider by cafekitsune #ᝰ 𝑆𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑟 𝐶𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑒 #sandor clegane one shot #sandor clegane x female reader #sandor clegane x wife reader #sandor clegane x princess reader #sandor clegane x wife #sandor clegane x reader smut #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane fluff #sandor clegane x targaryen reader #sandor the hound clegane #the hound x princess reader #the hound x female reader #the hound x reader #the hound smut

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whitecompri · 3 months ago

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instead of my other request , since it seems to be already being written. Could i ask for werehog! Sonic, silver , shadow and scourge x reader? In the sense that they all got hit with some dark gaia energy and turned into werehogs.

Werehog Trouble

Pairing: Werehog!Sonic x Reader; Werehog!Shadow x Reader; Werehog!Silver x Reader; Werehog!Scourge x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Light Swearing

A/N: Thanks for the request! I've been wanting to write something with them in werehog form for a while now. So it was perfect for me to get motivated and write, thanks, I hope you like it!

Sonic

The sun was already setting on the horizon that day, and Sonic's calm footsteps echoed down the empty street, accompanied only by the sounds of birds nesting in the trees and dogs barking at nothing in particular in the distance.

The hedgehog held the last piece of his Chili Dog, which he'd been eating on the way, chewing slowly and enjoying the gentle breeze of early autumn. In his other hand, he carried the small shopping bag from the day, returning to you so he could make dinner. He began walking along the curb, balancing playfully while still casually eating his snack.

After a few seconds, he finished chewing the last bite of his Chili Dog, and that’s when his eye caught a strange glint coming from the street gutter—something silver gleaming in the last lights of twilight.

Narrowing his eyes, Sonic approached, examining the strange glow meticulously. He crouched near the gutter, finally realizing it was a kind of ring. Maybe someone had lost it.

Reaching out, he picked up the object, seeing that the ring had some strange writings on it—ones he didn’t understand but had definitely seen somewhere before.

He stood up and looked around the street, searching for anyone who might have lost the ring, but there was no one there besides him.

Without him noticing, a bluish smoky energy surrounded the ring in his hand, dissipating the moment it touched his fur.

Sonic looked back at the object, raising an eyebrow. He walked over to a bench and placed the ring on top, hoping that the person who lost it might come looking for it later.

Turning around, he resumed his walk home.

--*--

The first rays of sunlight began to shine through the window of your shared bedroom. You frowned, uninterested in waking up. You rolled over in bed, not wanting to get up so early.

That’s when you noticed something��the side of the bed where your boyfriend slept was strangely more sunken than usual. Slowly, you opened your eyes and noticed something else. A heavy breathing sound, like that of a powerful creature.

You quickly turned your body, eyes widening at the sight of the enormous, dark blue-furred creature curled up in the corner of the bed.

Raising an eyebrow, you felt confused. You knew about your boyfriend’s transformation into what they called Werehogs, but you’d never seen it in person—let alone known that he could transform like that out of nowhere.

Reaching out, you poked his shoulder.

“Sonic...? Wake up...” Your hand shook his shoulder, but all you got was a grunt.

When you insisted more, he began to stir, turning toward you in his sleep, and his huge paw wrapped around your waist, giving you no chance to escape, pulling you into a tight hug.

You let out a squeal as you were squished against the soft fur of his chest. Looking up, you saw his face—peaceful, still lost in deep dreams, his heavy breathing brushing against your forehead.

Frowning, you decided to take drastic measures to wake your sleepy boyfriend.

After a lot of effort, you freed your hand from the grip of his arm. You quickly pressed your fingers against his nose, waiting. In a few seconds, he snorted, his eyes flying open, pulling back slightly as he looked around in confusion.

Then his green eyes focused on yours, and he gave you his usual half-smile—but in this canine form, it looked terrifying with his large visible fangs.

“Good morning, babe... Was I snoring?” Sonic asked, worried. Only then did you notice how much deeper and more powerful his voice sounded, reflecting the strength of his massive wolf form.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for his still-drowsy mind to process what was going on.

Sonic looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow back, bringing his hand up to scratch his head. When his hand came down, his eyes locked onto his fingers, seeing the long claws, and the fur much thicker and darker than usual.

Immediately, his eyes widened in shock, looking down at himself in terror, seeing his Werehog body. After taking a moment to assess himself and confirm that he had really transformed, he looked back at you.

“What happened?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I woke up and you were already like this.” You crossed your arms.

“That’s weird... Something like this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore...” His eyes shifted to the window and the rays of sun flooding the room. “And it’s already morning... I wasn’t supposed to still be in this form.” He looked at his outstretched hands, trying to make sense of what happened the night before.

But he couldn’t remember anything unusual. He just remembered coming home, eating dinner, watching some movies, and going to bed with you. Nothing felt different—it had seemed like a completely normal night.

“What do we do?” you asked, looking at him with concern.

“For now, I guess you’ll just have to live with your Werehog boyfriend. Trust me, I’ll go back to normal soon.” He gave you a quick wink and his usual crooked smile, showing his fangs.

“Well, at the very least, let’s avoid going outside. We don’t want anyone getting scared of you out there...” You turned, grabbing your phone. “I’m going to call Tails. Maybe he can think of something to help you change back.”

But before you could even dial, your attention snapped to your boyfriend, who was now scratching himself like a dog—his leg moving to scratch behind his ears, his head slightly tilted.

After he finished, he gave himself a good shake all over, then focused his eyes on you as if nothing had happened. Only then did his eyebrows raise, realizing what he had just done.

“That’s weird, I’ve never done that before...” He looked down at his leg, confused.

“You’re like a wolf. Didn’t that ever happen during that adventure you told me about?” you asked.

“Actually, no... Back then, I gained this same form, but I didn’t act like a wolf all the time—at least not like this...” He crossed his arms.

“Okay, must be a one-time thing. Let’s just stay calm and figure it out with time.”

“Like I said, it’ll probably pass soon. No need to even tell Tails. And I won’t get into much trouble, don’t worry.” He pointed to himself.

“Alright... so should we just sit and wait?” you asked hesitantly, watching him nod eagerly.

“It’ll be a great chance for you to enjoy the company of your handsome big bad wolf.” He chuckled, giving you a subtle wink, his paw gently holding your hand with a tenderness that didn’t match his appearance.

“You’re always so full of yourself...” You shook your head, laughing.

“That’s why you fell for me.” He leaned in, pressing his muzzle gently against the top of your head affectionately. Even in the form of such a powerful creature, he would do everything he could to treat you gently.

--*--

You had your fingers pressed against your temple as you tried to focus on some important household papers at your desk. As you analyzed the document, you began reading the first paragraph when you heard it again—the sound of four heavy paws running through the house.

Your head subtly turned toward the door, catching only a blur of your boyfriend dashing down the hallway toward another room. Sighing, you refocused on the documents. But just as you started reading again, the sound of those paws returned—this time even faster—making your eyes widen. You set your pen down on the table and stood up from your chair.

Stopping at the doorway, you crossed your arms, waiting. In less than a minute, you saw him run out of the shared bedroom. Something was in his mouth, but Sonic didn’t stop, rushing past you and heading to the living room.

Confused, you raised an eyebrow, following in the same direction, wondering what the hell he was doing.

However, when you stopped in front of the living room door, your eyes widened. The massive Werehog stood facing the couch, on top of which was a mountain of socks—both yours and his. His tail wagged nonstop from side to side.

Then, when you least expected it, he grabbed a few socks and started stuffing them under the couch, leaving your jaw hanging in confusion.

“Sonic... What do you think you’re doing?!” you asked, stepping into the living room. Your boyfriend jumped in surprise, letting out a small whimper, making you even more confused by his reaction.

Then, a few seconds later, his green eyes widened, focusing on the pile of socks on the couch. He quickly stood up on two legs again, clearing his throat.

“I-I, well, I was just counting the socks... Yeah, I needed to count them—they were such a mess...” He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Counting them and then hiding them under the couch?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

"About that..." He scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze, unsure of what to say.

Shaking your head, you extended your hand, palm up, signaling for him to stop.

"You're acting like a domesticated dog. Is that supposed to be normal?" You asked, placing a hand on your hip.

"Not exactly..." He looked down at himself. "It's instinctive... I couldn’t control it..." He sighed.

"How about you take a walk in the backyard? No one will see you, and you'll get some fresh air. It might help you clear your head, okay?" You stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder with a smile.

Sonic smiled back, leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

"Alright, babe. I'll go relax on the lawn for a bit."

"I'll make lunch in the meantime." Leaving a quick kiss on his cheek, you stepped away, heading to the kitchen.

--*--

Turning off the stove, you grabbed the handles of the pan, lifting it and placing it in the sink. You sighed in satisfaction, pleased with everything you had managed to prepare. Resting a hand on your hip, you suddenly remembered—you had sent your boyfriend to relax in the backyard. Worried about him, you turned and walked toward the back door.

Turning the doorknob, you opened the door with a creak, and the moment the backyard came into view, your eyes widened again, your jaw dropping.

In front of you was a scene that resembled more of a battlefield than your once well-kept yard. The lush, vibrant green grass was now completely dug up, and at the center, you spotted the dark blue fur of the Werehog, still busy digging more holes, his massive paws working nonstop, flinging dirt behind him, creating small mounds.

Looking around further, you noticed some of your plants had been completely uprooted from their pots, and parts of the fence were covered in deep scratch marks.

Placing a hand on your forehead, you froze, trying to process the scene. In the meantime, your boyfriend’s green eyes locked onto yours, and he gave you a goofy smile, sticking his tongue out as he panted like a dog—looking oddly proud of his work, almost like a mischievous Blue Heeler that had never been properly trained as a pup.

With quick steps, Sonic trotted over to you, something held between his teeth. He sat down right in front of you, his tail wagging excitedly. Lowering his head, he dropped the object at your feet.

Now that you were closer, you finally noticed the state of his fur—completely covered in mud.

"Hey, babe. I found some cool stuff in the yard," he said with a cheeky grin. "Oh, and I found your plumbing too..." His smile grew even wider.

That’s when you realized in horror that the object he had dropped was a piece of the house’s plumbing. Glancing at one of the holes, you saw a massive puddle of water beginning to form.

Still too stunned to react, you stood frozen in place, unable to process what was happening. Sonic wasn’t supposed to be acting literally like a wolf—or anything close to this—so this wild, instinct-driven behavior had to be another side effect of his bizarre transformation.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you finally met his gaze.

"You're taking a bath first... then I'll deal with this leak... This is getting out of control, Sonic. Try to hold back these instincts." You crossed your arms.

"I feel great, babe, no need to worry." He gave you another playful grin before turning to trot back into the yard. But before he could, you were faster, grabbing him by the ear, making him whimper softly.

"I said you're taking a bath!" You began dragging him along.

"No, no, no bath! I have holes to dig..." He resisted, trying to break free from your grip.

Grunting with effort, you pulled him toward the house as he dug his heels in, practically dragging along the floor. Of course, you knew he wasn’t using even half of his strength. If he wanted to, he could’ve easily dragged you instead.

After an exhausting struggle—along with plenty of whining from him—you finally reached the bathroom.

"Get in the tub." You pointed, and he let out another soft whimper, pouting at you.

"Sonic..." Your eyes narrowed, and the second he noticed your threatening tone, he immediately jumped into the bathtub, splashing water everywhere. The water darkened almost instantly from the sheer amount of dirt in his fur.

"I didn’t want a bath..." He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I don’t care... Do you even realize what you did?" You stared at him seriously.

"Of course I do! And it was really fun." He chuckled softly.

"You’re out of your mind, aren’t you..." You muttered, realizing that this transformation wasn’t just affecting his appearance—it was messing with his mind and behavior too. "I’ll be right back. I need to fix that plumbing issue." Rubbing your forehead, you left him in the bathroom, already knowing it was going to be a mess by the time you got back.

--*--

After shutting off the water supply to stop further leaks, you made your way back to the bathroom, preparing yourself for the worst—expecting a chaotic, uncontrollable disaster.

However, to your surprise, when you walked in, there was no flooded floor or broken objects. Instead...

Right in the middle of the bathtub, Sonic was staring upward with a huge grin, completely focused on the bubbles floating in the air. At one point, his smile turned mischievous, and in a swift movement, he lunged forward, snapping his jaws around one of the bubbles, catching it between his teeth.

Then, he just sat there for several long seconds, staring into the distance, his ears folded back.

These instincts were really hitting him hard.

But even so, you couldn’t help but notice just how adorable he looked—covered in soap, playing around like an oversized puppy. It warmed your heart in an inexplicable way. Maybe taking care of your Werehog boyfriend wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

--*--

Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you placed the broom back in the laundry area. Stretching a little, you looked around the house, searching for your boyfriend. But there was no sign of him inside.

Walking into the kitchen, you peered out the window and spotted the mass of dark blue fur sitting on the lawn, staring into one of the holes in the ground, his tail wagging.

Well, at least he wasn’t digging anymore. Just watching.

Not thinking much of it, you continued on your way to the bathroom, preparing to take a well-earned relaxing shower.

Before long, you finished, wrapping yourself in a clean towel as you stepped out to head to the bedroom and change. But as soon as your feet touched the floor, they met nothing but the cold surface—your slippers were gone.

Glancing around, you found nothing unusual, nor any sign of where they had disappeared to. Then, realization hit you—Sonic must have taken them. And if you didn’t hurry, he was probably going to destroy them.

Tightening your towel around yourself, you rushed through the house, searching for him, heading straight to where you’d last seen him—the backyard.

Stopping beside him, panting, you watched as his tail wagged happily, his tongue hanging out as he breathed heavily.

"Sonic... Don’t tell me you took my slippers..." You took a deep breath, regaining your composure. That’s when your eyes landed inside the hole—and what you saw made them widen in shock.

It wasn’t just your slippers in there. He had taken all the slippers in the house.

"What exactly were you planning to do with these? Were you trying to bury them?" Your voice came out irritated as you knelt down, reaching in to pull out all the slippers and a few other random shoes, setting them on the grass.

"More or less." He said proudly, crossing his arms.

"You can’t just take my shoes and try to bury them! If you keep this up, I’m gonna have to put a leash on you and keep you tied up until this whole canine phase passes." Gathering as many slippers as you could, you began to stand.

That’s when he surprised you by suddenly biting one of the slippers, snatching it from your hands, staring at you with mischievous green eyes.

"Sonic... Give me back my slipper..."

"Come get it."

And in the blink of an eye, he dashed off, paws thudding heavily against the floor.

Before you knew it, you were chasing him through the house, searching every corner. Your eyes scanned the walls—now covered in muddy paw prints. That’s when you realized—not only had he gotten himself filthy again while burying the shoes, but now he had also left your entire house a mess.

Finally, you found him—lying on your bed, tail wagging contently as he gnawed on your slipper like a chew toy.

Exhausted, you sat down beside him, sighing heavily, barely able to wait for this whole wild wolf phase to pass—so he could go back to being the hedgehog you had learned to love.

Then, you felt something pressing against your back. Turning your head a little, you saw Sonic, resting his forehead against your back. He let out a few soft whimpers, looking at you intently, then wrapped his paws around you, pulling you closer, drawing you into a hug.

It was a warm hug, the perfect cure for all the physical exhaustion you were feeling. Slowly, you wrapped your own arms around him, savoring the contact with your boyfriend, who remained gentle, even though his mind was completely taken over by instincts.

There was still a long way to go before the day ended, but you were sure you could handle anything just for him.

--*--

Finally, after solving almost all the problems, you sighed and sat in a chair at the end of the day. Your eyes focused on the hallway, seeing the huge paw prints on the floor and traces of his filthy fur on the wall.

Putting a hand to your forehead, you shook your head. You had never had such a packed day before, let alone dealing with a hyper Werehog turning the house upside down.

Your eyes locked on him, your boyfriend, sitting on the floor, resting like a domestic pup, curled up into himself. His eyes were on you, and when he noticed you watching, his tail began to wag.

"Hey babe..." He winked at you, making you chuckle. At least his personality was still the same, even if he acted like a real wolf now.

"Come eat, I made some things you like..." you said softly, watching as his ears perked forward with interest. He quickly got up, pulled the chair, and sat down awkwardly.

You started eating, only hearing the sound of his ravenous bites. When your eyes moved up, you were surprised to see his plate already empty, while he licked his muzzle, looking satisfied. "It looked like he had inhaled everything in a vacuum, without even chewing."

"I’m gonna go fix the room so we can sleep, babe, I’ll wait for you there."

He gave a small smile, leaving the chair and walking quickly to the bedroom, the sound of his claws against the floor echoing through the hallway.

You sighed, smiling. As much trouble as he gave you, he was extremely cute like this.

--*--

Stretching your arms, you yawned, walking toward the bedroom to finally rest after such a crazy day. The night would probably be calmer, and you hoped he would be too.

However, as soon as you stepped into the room, you were surprised yet again that day, startled by the mess in the room.

Your boyfriend was adjusting fabrics with his paws on the floor. He had made a pile of pillows, blankets, and sheets, forming what looked like some sort of nest to your eyes.

Looking confused, you crossed your arms, watching his determination to build that, for who knows what reason.

"Sonic... what are you up to now?" you said softly, making him turn to you with a smile.

"I’m making the perfect place for us to sleep together." He winked at you, turning back to continue his work.

"No, nope, not happening, I’m not sleeping in that thing, you're just making a mess." Getting closer, you pulled the blanket, getting even more surprised when he sank his fangs into the fabric.

"It took me a while to prepare this place..." he said, his voice muffled.

"Sonic, if you rip my best blanket, I’m going to use your fur to cover myself tonight." Hearing your threatening tone, his ears folded back, and his mouth opened, releasing the fabric. "Thank you. Now, help me put this back in place."

He slowly began picking up the pillows, placing each one in the right spot.

It had been a full day, and you could hardly wait for the next one, hoping everything would go back to normal.

--*--

When the first rays of sun hit the window, you groaned, waking up little by little, not even wanting to think about another day dealing with your stubborn Werehog boyfriend.

However, when you turned in bed to get more comfortable, you didn’t feel the mattress sinking. On the contrary, the mattress was as normal as ever, and your boyfriend’s breathing had returned to being light and almost silent.

Opening your wide eyes, you looked ahead, feeling deep relief as you saw your usual favorite blue hedgehog right in front of you, just like every day.

Sighing happily, you wrapped him in a tight hug, making him wake up too. His eyes began to open, and Sonic yawned, wrapping his arms around you.

“Hmm, good morning, babe. So much enthusiasm this early.” he said, giving a lazy smile.

“You have no idea... I’m just happy you’re back to normal...” your whispered words left him confused. Propping himself on one elbow, he looked at you.

“Back to normal? What do you mean?” he raised an eyebrow.

That’s when it hit you.

“You don’t remember anything?” you looked at him, surprised.

“Is there something I should remember?” he chuckled softly, placing a hand on your cheek.

“Well, I guess nothing too important...” a mischievous grin crept across your face. “But let’s just say you’ve got a lot of work today... scrubbing dirt off the walls and floors, fixing a pipe, washing some sheets, patching a few holes...” As you counted each thing off with your fingers, Sonic’s expression turned to one of surprise.

“What the heck happened here yesterday anyway?” he asked, eyes wide.

“I can tell you more about how you almost destroyed the house while you fix the mess.” Your finger playfully poked his nose, making him quickly shut his eyes.

Sonic kept staring at you, stunned. You laughed. Dealing with Werehog instincts had been a huge challenge, but right now, you were just grateful to have your boyfriend back to normal.

Shadow

The day was already turning into night. The heavy steps of the black hedgehog’s shoes echoed through the market as he scanned the shelves, searching for what he had come for. It was a small misfortune: he had completely forgotten to buy his coffee beans.

The hedgehog huffed, finally finding what he was looking for on the shelf. His hand reached out, grabbing his preferred brand, but as soon as he took the package off the shelf, something caught his attention.

Right underneath where the package had been, there was a small silver ring, forgotten by someone in such an unlikely place.

Raising an eyebrow, Shadow looked at the object, confused. His free hand reached out, picking up the ring and meticulously examining the object, taking in the unknown engravings that adorned it.

Sighing, he simply squeezed the object into his palm and headed to the checkout to pay for the coffee.

As he walked, he didn't notice the blue smoky energy that wrapped around his hand, disappearing as it touched the fur on his arm.

Reaching the checkout line, the hedgehog simply opened his hand over a lost-and-found box, letting the object fall inside along with some coats, wallets, and other items people tended to lose inside the market. With that, he paid for his purchase and headed home.

--*--

The first bird songs of the day began, and you let out a small grunt, snuggling deeper into the soft white fur you loved resting your head on. However, something felt off. The soft fur seemed bigger than you remembered from the night before, so you slowly opened your eyes to check.

However, your eyes didn’t meet the familiar form of your boyfriend. Instead, you found yourself lightly pressed against a wall of black fur, with the tuft of white fur on the chest looking even fluffier than you had ever seen — even fluffier than you were used to with Shadow.

You slowly pulled away, taking a better look at the new form. It was definitely Shadow, but now he had protruding claws, fangs showing on his muzzle, and looked about three times fluffier than usual, making you feel an immense urge to hug him just out of curiosity.

However, it wasn’t the time for that. What you really wanted was to understand how your boyfriend had literally turned into a monster overnight.

Your hand moved closer, poking his muzzle. He only twisted a little from the discomfort but didn’t wake up, so you poked him again, this time harder. His eyes quickly opened with a grunt, focusing on you.

He seemed irritated at first, but his expression soon softened when he noticed your confused and surprised look. Concerned, he reached out his hand to hold yours.

“What happened...” It was at that moment that he noticed, pulling his hand back before touching you. He looked at his palms, then the back of his hands, his eyes widening as he intensely focused on the changes in his body.

"Shadow... you... you turned into some kind of monster," you questioned hesitantly, only to see his large ears fall to the sides.

“No... this is... it's called a Werehog. It’s a transformation hedgehogs go through under certain circumstances, but... it has never happened to me before." Shadow crossed his arms, sighing exasperatedly.

"Do you think something last night could have triggered this?"

"Maybe, but I can't think of anything extreme. I didn’t fight anything unusual last night... and by now I should have turned back to normal." He observed his whole body, analyzing the changes from the transformation, his voice deeper than usual too.

"Alright... how about we have some breakfast first? Maybe with time, this will pass, right?" Your voice came out more worried than you expected as you got up from the bed.

However, you froze when you heard a sharp noise, a growl that quickly progressed into a constant and loud sound, eventually becoming a powerful howl. You quickly turned your head to watch the scene.

Shadow had his head raised, eyes closed, his mouth slightly open as he let out a loud and melancholic howl. A few seconds later, he stopped, lowering his head and opening his eyes, focusing his red irises on you.

Almost immediately, he caught your confused expression. His eyes widened when he realized what he had just done, feeling his face heat up as he quickly looked down.

"Sorry... I don't know what came over me..." You gave him a small smile.

"Hey, it’s okay, it happens, it’s something related to the transformation, no need to worry." Approaching him, you held his heavy and powerful paw, pulling him to go have breakfast.

--*--

You held a plate at the kitchen counter, drumming your fingers rhythmically against the surface, waiting for your toast to be ready. You shivered again hearing the same dramatic howl as before. Shadow had howled at least three times already, and each time, the high-pitched sound was enough to give you chills, especially because of how loud it was, easily causing a huge discomfort in your eardrums.

Your gaze shifted behind you, seeing him sitting on the floor, an impassive look on his face as he stared at the window, carefully watching every bird flying by.

Scratching your neck, you turned to grab the toast. Apparently, this wolf side that had come with the transformation was affecting him more than necessary. But at least he still seemed docile, at least with you, and wasn't posing a danger to the neighborhood, so there wasn’t much to worry about. If it was a normal hedgehog transformation, it should pass quickly too.

However, when you turned around again, you frowned, not seeing the huge black-furred Werehog where he had been before. Your eyes scanned the whole kitchen, searching for him, but there was no sign of Shadow anywhere.

As soon as you placed the plate on the table, though, an orange flash emanated from where he had been sitting before, revealing your boyfriend back — but this time, he had something in his mouth.

You looked, startled, seeing that it was a raccoon. The small animal squirmed frantically, trying to escape Shadow’s jaws, but he seemed to only be holding it firmly in his mouth, without any real intent to hurt it, at least for now.

"Shadow, what are you doing with that poor animal?" you asked, approaching him.

"Hunting..." he said in a muffled tone, twisting his muzzle and growling when your hand got too close to his mouth.

"The raccoon isn’t your snack, I made toast for us!" You crossed your arms, getting irritated with him. His ears pinned back, and in the blink of an eye, he teleported again, coming back a few seconds later without the raccoon in his mouth.

"I hunted it as a gift for you..." the Werehog said seriously, slowly sitting at the table.

"Raccoons are not presents!" You tried to argue simply, but Shadow just let out a small huff, reaching for a piece of toast and biting into it.

Finally, you allowed yourself to relax, eating your toast peacefully and enjoying your breakfast. That is, until you shivered again, hearing the sharp sound of the Werehog’s dramatic howl. Looking ahead, you saw him once again with his face turned upward, pouring all his motivation into that howl, and from that moment, you knew it would be a long day.

--*--

The broom you were holding slid across the floor, picking up the dust and black fur that accumulated around the house. Every now and then you found one of his quills lying around from where he scratched himself.

Picking up the dustpan, you began sweeping the dirt when a loud thud startled you, making you jump and spill the dirt all over the floor again. Frowning at the mess below, your gaze shifted to the source of the noise, spotting your boyfriend with a huge branch in his mouth, trying to get through the kitchen door.

Shadow looked irritated at the branch, probably having tried to enter but the branch didn’t fit through the doorway, making him slam into it. Growling, the Werehog began tilting his head sideways, trying to fit the branch through the doorway to get inside.

"Shadow, where are you going with that?" you stopped in front of him, crossing your arms.

"...Gift..." his voice came out muffled due to the branch in his mouth. He fixed his eyes on yours, observing you impassively.

Putting a hand to your temple, you sighed, then stretched out your hand to pull the branch, helping him get inside. If he wanted to give you gifts, no matter how strange, who were you to refuse?

Thus, making way for him, you allowed the Werehog to carry the huge branch into the living room, placing it on the floor. He wagged his tail subtly before, in a flash of orange light, he disappeared from the living room.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you went back to sweeping the house, focusing on gathering the mess again.

However, after a few minutes finishing sweeping and mopping, you stopped at the living room door. Your eyes widened immediately upon seeing Shadow sitting on the floor, in front of him, an enormous pile of junk.

Branches, leaves, flowers, newspapers, objects belonging to the neighbors — everything was piled up in one place. Shadow slowly turned to you, looking at you seriously with his red irises.

"I suppose all of this is... gifts?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"...Yes," Shadow answered shortly.

"You have a strange way of showing affection, you know?" you let out a soft laugh.

He only grunted quietly in response, looking away, his ears drooping to the sides, which you found to be an extremely cute reaction from him.

"Why don't you calm down a little from bringing me things and try to get some rest? Sometimes when you wake up, you might already be back to normal," you walked over to the couch, sitting down and picking up the TV remote, your boyfriend still watching your every move carefully.

However, instead of answering this time, he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air. Your eyes widened when you realized what he was about to do, but before you could stop him, the long and hoarse howl started, making you recoil in discomfort, feeling the pain in your eardrums return due to the loudness of the howls.

Sighing, you placed your palms over your ears, figuring he would stop soon and return to talking normally.

--*--

You tossed and turned on the couch, pressing the pillows against your ears, staring at the ceiling with a frown. At this point, things had gotten extreme; you couldn’t even watch TV anymore because your boyfriend wouldn’t stop howling constantly, staring out the living room window.

Your eyes focused beside him, seeing the pile of gifts he had brought you. You only feared that he would bring a rat, especially after remembering that he had tried to bring you a raccoon earlier, but luckily—and to your relief—that hadn't happened so far, mainly because he was too busy howling.

"Shadow... There's not even a full moon, why are you howling?" you asked with a desperate tone, starting to feel that the loudness of the howling was becoming unhealthy.

"I can't control it..." the werehog answered seriously.

"Pretty soon the neighbors are going to call the police to investigate, you know that?" Sitting up on the couch, you stared at him.

Suddenly, he stood up, taking long steps with his paws toward you.

He climbed onto the couch, pressing his forehead against yours. You smiled softly at the unexpected gesture of affection. That was, until your face was completely buried in the fur of his neck. Shadow started rubbing his neck against you.

Your hands quickly flew to his fur in front of you, grabbing and pushing it out of the way, giving you a small space to breathe.

"What’s this about now?" you questioned quietly, struggling to push him off you.

"I'm marking you with my scent..." Shadow answered briefly, summing up the rubbing session.

"Just what I needed... Shadow, you're going to suffocate me like this..." you continued struggling. Then you realized. "Actually... go on... Better you rubbing yourself all over me than nearly making me deaf with your howling..." You relaxed slightly, allowing him to continue rubbing his fur on you.

"My territory..." he murmured quietly, proud of his work.

"Alright, you silly wolf. I always knew you had a bit of possessiveness in you..." you laughed, running your hand through his fur.

And with the warm feeling of his fur against you, even if a bit much, you slowly drifted off to sleep along with your boyfriend.

--*--

The sun began to rise early in the morning, lighting up the living room where you had fallen asleep last night with your boyfriend. Grunting, you raised a hand to rub your eyes. As your consciousness began returning to your body, you noticed something—you no longer felt the same weight of the Werehog on top of you.

Slowly looking down, your expression softened. Shadow was still lying on top of you, hugging you, but he was no longer a Werehog; he had returned to normal, back to the hedgehog you loved.

Although you were relieved he had returned to his normal form, deep down you were going to miss the feeling of his fluffy fur against you.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you caressed him. He sighed contentedly, opening his red eyes to observe you, slowly waking up and tightening his hug around you.

"You finally stopped howling..." you teased, laughing. Shadow widened his eyes.

"I thought it had been a dream..." he looked away, placing a hand over his face, probably embarrassed.

"It was very real actually... Especially when you nearly suffocated me with your fur trying to rub your scent on me to mark territory."

"...I was out of my mind," he said, closing his eyes and frowning, not quite understanding how he had lost control like that. But in fact, that Werehog transformation was very powerful, enough for the creature's instincts to awaken and overpower his willpower.

"It's okay..." you pulled him closer in the hug. "At least I got to feel the softest fur I've ever seen in my life..."

You heard just a low ‘hmpf’, and you instantly knew he was subtly blushing, even if he refused to show it to you.

And in the end, what mattered was that you loved him unconditionally, no matter what form he took.

Silver

His fingers brushed through the leaves of the tomato plant, carefully analyzing each one, checking if they were healthy. The white hedgehog was always very attentive when it came to his plants; he wanted to make sure they had the best life possible.

Giving a brief smile, Silver stepped aside, kneeling on the grass in front of another tomato plant, looking for pests or leaves that indicated a sick plant.

That's when, in the dim twilight, his eyes focused on something right under the tomato plant. Raising an eyebrow, his hand reached for the shiny silver object, seeing that it was a ring.

But what was a ring doing here? And he didn’t remember you having anything like that. He held the ring in the palm of his hand, looking around, trying to figure out where it might have come from.

However, while he was distracted, a smoky blue energy began to emanate from the ring, climbing up his arm and dissipating when it touched his light fur.

The hedgehog levitated using his psychokinesis, looking for a possible owner. When he found no one nearby, he simply used his powers to guide the ring to the most likely owner—the neighbor behind his house, who was closer to where he found the ring. Placing the ring on a table over there, Silver returned to the ground, sighing. Then, he shrugged, heading back inside. After all, it was almost dinner time.

--*--

Your eyes opened subtly when the first morning lights filled the room. Grunting, you snuggled deeper into the blanket, trying to keep warm from the morning chill.

Turning over, your hand instinctively reached out for the comforting presence of your boyfriend, as well as his body heat.

Your hand landed on the mattress, failing to find him. Frowning, you moved your hand forward to search for him again, but still with no success.

Thus, your eyes quickly opened, scanning the spot beside you. It wasn’t common for Silver to leave the bed so early like this, and a wave of worry washed over you.

Throwing the blanket aside, you sat on the edge of the bed, standing up and opening the bedroom door. Your eyes focused on the lit hallway leading to the bathroom. Walking quickly, you stopped in front of the bathroom door, knocking.

"Silver? Are you okay in there?" you called for him, but there was no immediate response. "Are you feeling sick? If you want, I can get you some medicine..."

"No, it’s okay, I’m not sick..." his voice came from inside, but it sounded deeper than usual, breathless and worried.

"Can I come in?"

"I-it’s better if you wait out there..."

Gritting your teeth, you mentally apologized to him before suddenly opening the door, startling Silver and making him jump.

For a second, when you saw him, your body froze in place. Standing in front of the sink, staring at you with frightened golden eyes, was Silver. However, he had a larger form, with a powerful appearance.

"Sorry... I just wanted to come in to help you..." you said quickly.

"It’s all good, I guess... At least you didn’t run around screaming..." he looked at the mirror, staring at his own canine-like form.

"What happened to you?" approaching him, you observed the monstrous form.

"I turned into a Werehog... For some reason I don’t know," he crossed his arms, gritting his teeth and frowning.

"Werehog? Like a werewolf?" you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah... sort of, I thought it was impossible to turn into one just like that..." he placed his huge paw over your hand. "I just don’t want to hurt you, okay? So... I want you to keep some distance until this passes..."

"Silver... I'm sure you won’t hurt me, okay? Come on, let’s go back and sleep a little more, it’s still too early..." you walked ahead, waiting for him to follow you.

Stopping at the bathroom doorway, you turned to say something else but widened your eyes at what you saw.

Silver, who had been standing still before, was now frantically running on all fours in circles in the middle of the bathroom, his eyes focused. Finally, after a few seconds, he stopped, panting, his wide eyes locked onto his small tail.

"Almost got it..." he said softly.

"Silver?" you called, confused by the situation.

He jumped a little at your voice, quickly standing back up.

"Sorry, my love... It just seemed... really tempting to bite my tail out of nowhere..." He stared at his tail for a few more seconds before shaking his head and following you. "Forget that happened, alright? I'm feeling these wolf instincts running wild..."

"Alright, I guess?" you shrugged, holding his paw and leading him to the bedroom to go back to sleep for a little while.

--*--

Yawning, you sat at the kitchen table, placing your plate of pancakes in front of you. Silver was already sitting with his own plate, eating slowly, lost in thought about the events of the day.

Sighing, you grabbed a fork, cutting a piece of the pancakes and bringing it to your mouth, chewing slowly, your eyes focused on the huge werehog sitting near you.

Wiping your mouth with a paper napkin, you crumpled it up, aiming carefully and tossing it towards the kitchen trash can. Suddenly, a white blur dashed across the kitchen, and before you knew it, sharp teeth caught the paper ball firmly.

Silver walked over to you, placing the ball on the table, his gaze now serious, focused, but his eyes gleamed with amusement.

"What are you doing, Silver?" you asked, picking the ball up again. As soon as your hand touched it, Silver's tail started wagging rapidly. Growing more confused, you decided to test something.

Aiming again, you threw the ball at the trash can, but this time, Silver didn't even move. Before the ball could land, it was enveloped in a cyan-colored aura, floating in midair, returning to the table and gently landing in front of you.

When your eyes refocused on Silver, he had a huge smile on his muzzle, proud of what he had just done.

"Yeah, congrats, that was impressive... but your pancakes are getting cold, and I still need to throw this paper away." Content with your words, Silver nodded, walking back to his chair, sitting down and focusing on his plate, eating.

--*--

Finishing washing the last plate, you placed it on the drying rack, grabbing a towel to dry your own hands, when you heard heavy footsteps approaching and stopping right behind you.

Curious, you looked back and saw your boyfriend, ears down, holding a paper ball in his mouth again, his golden eyes focusing eagerly on you.

"You want me to throw the ball?" you asked, taking it from his mouth. Silver nodded subtly.

Softening your expression, you aimed and threw the ball. Your boyfriend's eyes followed its path, and with a small whimper, he started running across the kitchen after the ball, pushing off with his hind legs and jumping up to catch it midair with his mouth. Then, he looked at you proudly, his tail wagging rapidly.

"Very good, Silver," you praised, laughing.

Then, unexpectedly, he jumped again, using his powers, wrapping himself in his cyan aura, doing a flip in the air before floating back down to the floor, looking at you proudly once again.

"Nice trick, but isn't that cheating?" you laughed, crossing your arms. He slowly trotted over to you, getting close, and your boyfriend started rubbing his side against your legs, almost knocking you off balance with the strength he didn’t realize he had in that form. Your hands grabbed his soft white fur, petting him.

You had to admit, he was actually very cute like this, and his soft fur was a pleasure to run your hands through. However, as much as you loved his fluffiness and would love him unconditionally in any form, you still wanted him to return to normal so you could hug your favorite hedgehog properly again.

But for now, you allowed yourself to just enjoy petting the huge werehog in front of you.

--*--

By the end of the afternoon, as the day began to darken, you sat on the couch, grabbing the TV remote, wanting to relax. Looking to the side, you saw your boyfriend lying on the floor, belly up, just staring at the ceiling. Despite his tricks of catching paper balls or anything else you tried to toss into the trash, and chasing his tail, he had remained silent all day, sometimes a little shy because of his form.

However, he never left your side throughout the whole day, keeping an eager eye on everything you did.

Now, he was just lying there, deep in thought. Then his golden eyes lowered, focusing on yours. He spent a few good seconds watching you until he moved, sitting up, and then walked over to where you were on the couch, whimpering softly.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you said softly to him, smoothing down his fluffy quills as he got very close.

"Can I lie down with you?" he asked quietly.

"Of course you can, you don't even have to ask," you said, patting the couch to invite him up.

He quickly climbed onto the couch, curling up to fit, resting his head on your lap. After settling down, he stretched his arms before wrapping them around your waist.

"Would it be too much to ask you to rub my belly?" he chuckled.

You smiled at his request, your hand quickly resting on his belly, starting to pet him. The werehog laughed, his leg beginning to move involuntarily, indicating how much he was enjoying the affection.

"Your fur is so fluffy..." you said out loud as your hand slid over your boyfriend’s furry belly.

"I thought you would be scared of me... not like this form..." Silver looked away.

"How could I be scared of you when you're always this cute?" you laughed. The hedgehog looked away, blushing slightly.

You smoothed down his quills, petting him and making him feel comfortable with you.

--*--

After a long day of taking care of your werehog boyfriend, you finally lay down in bed for your much-desired nap, covering yourself with the blankets, just waiting for Silver to join you.

You heard his little paws as he entered the room, approaching the bed. Then he started climbing onto the mattress, but, different from what you expected, he didn’t lie down on his side of the bed.

You only felt the pressure of his body against your back, his paws placed on each side of your head as he settled himself down, lying on top of you.

"Silver... I just think... you’re a little heavy to do this as a Werehog," you said softly, pressed against the mattress.

He murmured quietly, understanding, shifting his body a bit to the side, easing the pressure off you. Sighing in relief, you settled down again, feeling quite comfortable with his warmth so close.

And little by little, you began to fall asleep next to him.

--*--

With the first rays of sunlight, you started to wake up, yawning, stretching your arms, still feeling Silver pressed against your back while you remained lying on your stomach. Turning your head slightly, you smiled happily, seeing that he had returned to normal and was the same adorable hedgehog you had fallen in love with.

Carefully, you pulled him closer, turning around to face him. With that, he grumbled, starting to wake up. When his golden eyes locked onto yours, he gave a brief smile before his eyes widened, and he jumped up into a sitting position.

Silver looked at the palms of his hands, checked his body, and touched his head to make sure. Then, he closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

"I'm so glad I'm not a monster..." he chuckled softly, looking at you. "I don’t remember falling asleep on your back... So I guess it really all happened, right?" he hugged himself.

"Well... yes, it happened, but don't worry, you were a very polite and well-behaved werehog, my love." Your hand firmly held his, and the hedgehog gave a wide smile.

"Ah, really?" he scratched the back of his neck slowly. "I'm glad I didn’t hurt you..."

"I already told you, you would never hurt me, Silver." Your fingers intertwined with his affectionately, earning another bright smile from him. He leaned closer, pulling you into a tight hug.

You knew your boyfriend’s heart would never change, no matter what form he was in.

Scourge

Leaning his back against the post in front of the house, the green hedgehog watched the street's movement at the end of the day. Huffing lightly from boredom, he brought the energy drink can he was holding closer, using his claw to pop the tab open, bringing the can to his mouth and taking a long sip, sighing contentedly.

Lowering the can, Scourge watched the street again, seeing some people coming back from work, kids playing in the distance, but nothing interesting to do.

Finishing the drink, he crushed the can in his hand, throwing it into a nearby trash can with precision. Crossing his arms, he huffed again, pushing himself off the post.

Maybe you had already finished cleaning the house and wouldn't smack him if he tried stepping inside, so Scourge started heading back home, opening the small front gate and stepping onto the front lawn.

However, just as he took the first step, something curious caught his attention—right on the concrete path leading to the front door, a small silver object gleamed under the last rays of sunlight.

Raising an eyebrow, curious, he walked over, kneeling down and picking up the object, finally seeing that it was a silver ring with several inscriptions on it.

Smirking slightly, he slid the ring onto his finger over his glove, observing it critically to see how it looked. He let out a low chuckle, running the finger of his other hand over the ring’s inscriptions.

It was at that moment that a small bluish mist started to emerge from the ring, swirling around his hand.

Scourge's eyes widened at the sight, not understanding if the ring was magical or something. Not wanting to stick around to find out, he quickly pulled off the ring and threw it into the street.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he wiped his hand over the other as if cleaning it. Then, shaking his head irritably, he continued walking into the house, wanting to forget the whole thing had happened.

--*--

In the morning, you were woken up by a strange sensation, something sharp clinging to your waist. You hissed quietly, moving on the bed, trying to get rid of your boyfriend’s claws that were gripping you.

Grumbling in irritation, your hand reached for his, but the moment you touched him, your eyes shot open wide, feeling the thick, fluffy fur that was completely unlike your boyfriend’s normal texture.

Quickly pulling away, you jumped in fright upon seeing the huge form he had taken—a dark green furred creature, sleeping peacefully. However, when he flexed his claws and didn’t find you, he frowned, his ears tilting backward.

Opening his eyes slowly, Scourge looked at you, confused.

"What happened? Why ya lookin' at me like that?" He sat up on the bed, still sleepy, not noticing his own appearance.

“Maybe because you turned into a monster?” you said, in disbelief at the situation.

"C'mon, I wasn't even snorin' that loud..." He rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what was going on.

“No, Scourge... You literally turned into a monster!” you said, gesturing with your hands.

His eyes widened as he looked down at himself, and his expression changed to one of horror, realizing he had indeed turned into some kind of monster.

"What...? How'd this happen?" He narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what had triggered his transformation. “Listen, babe, don’t worry... I think this is called a Werehog, but it’s not permanent...” He moved closer to you, placing his paws on your waist.

“Okay, you still seem like yourself... I think everything will be fine if it’s just for a little while.” Scourge gave a small, brief nod, then started pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

He nuzzled his muzzle into your head, letting out a muffled chuckle.

"But ya can tell me, babe... Ya kinda liked my new form, didn’t ya?" He smirked, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. You playfully punched his shoulder, making him let out a small huff.

The green hedgehog then tucked his muzzle into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, showing you that even in that form, he didn’t want to hurt you at all.

You had started to relax in his arms when your eyes widened again from a sharp pain in your shoulder, caused by sharp fangs pressing against your sensitive skin.

In a quick movement, you pulled away from him, bringing your hand to your shoulder to check.

He hadn’t bitten hard enough to truly hurt, but it was strong enough to leave a mark—something that, whether you liked it or not, was a habit of his to mark you. However, in that form, it was much more painful.

"Sorry, babe... I dunno what came over me... I didn’t mean to bite ya, but when I realized it, I was already doin' it." He crossed his arms, seriously eyeing the bite mark on your shoulder.

“It’s okay... Let’s just get up, have breakfast, and start the day, alright?” you said, turning and getting out of bed, ready to start your day dealing with your werehog boyfriend for a day.

--*--

Placing your plate on the table, you sat down with Scourge to have breakfast. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position on the chair that was now way too small for him in that form.

Grabbing a piece of toast and taking a bite, you chewed as you watched him squirm, growling as he tried to settle into a position that didn't hurt.

When he finally managed, his paw reached up to adjust his sunglasses, which were now way too small for him too.

"This is so damn annoyin'..." he muttered, growling again before finally grabbing a toast from the plate and shoving it whole into his mouth, chewing.

“Do you have any idea how you suddenly turned into a werehog?” you asked curiously.

"I think it was some dumb ring I found yesterday out in the yard. Slipped it on my finger, and it let out this blue kinda mist..." He clenched his fists on the table.

“Was the ring familiar?” Setting your fork down, you started paying closer attention, getting interested in what had happened.

"Nah, never seen it before in my life, but I’m sure it caused this. A hedgehog don’t just turn into a werehog overnight without somethin' like that." He said irritably, staring at his hands. "If I find out who did this... I swear they’re gonna pay..." he growled through gritted teeth.

“Hey, calm down, no need to get all stressed. Just focus on keeping yourself under control until you go back to normal. I don’t want to see you getting mad in that form.” You got up from the table, grabbing your plate and heading to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash it.

But at that moment, you heard a sharp cracking noise. Jumping in fright, you quickly turned around, looking for the source of the sound.

Your eyes widened at what you saw.

Scourge was on the floor, his fangs sunk into one of the legs of your table, the wood cracking in half, scattering debris across the floor. The green werehog growled, shaking his head, causing the wood to split even more.

Suddenly, before you could react, the table collapsed to the side where Scourge was, and he tore the leg off with a strong pull, biting into the wood rapidly.

You stood there frozen, unable to believe what you were seeing. You knew he had a temper when irritated, but he had never done anything like this before.

Then, his blue eyes snapped back into consciousness, widening. He quickly opened his mouth and spat out the piece of wood, making disgusted noises.

"What the hell...?" He ran a paw over his tongue, trying to get rid of the wood splinters. Then he looked at you, confused.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who just destroyed our table,” you said, crossing your arms indignantly.

"Ugh... I’ll fix it later..." he said, getting up from the floor and walking away.

You let out an exasperated sigh. You could already tell it was going to be a long day.

--*--

After sweeping up the last pieces of what used to be your table leg, you threw everything into the nearby trash can, scratching your head.

You looked around; it had been a while since Scourge had left the kitchen, and you hadn't heard any noise from him either.

Suspecting something, you walked through the house, down the hallway, heading toward the living room.

As soon as you reached the doorway, your eyes widened again.

Your living room, once tidy and organized, was now filled with sofa stuffing scattered everywhere like snow. In the middle of that chaotic scene, you spotted some green quills moving through the mess.

Frowning in irritation, you walked over to your boyfriend, finally spotting him on top of the couch. The furniture was completely torn open as Scourge delighted himself in biting into the remaining stuffing, ripping it out and tossing it aside, his tail wagging frantically.

"Scourge! What are you doing?" You called out to him, but the werehog only looked at you with a smug little grin before returning to his destructive activities.

Irritated, you extended your hands, grabbing his thick fur and struggling to pull him away from your couch.

"Stop it, you delinquent, I don't want you vandalizing my living room!" He whimpered and squirmed, trying to stay on the couch, digging his claws into it.

"I'm serious, Scourge, you better swallow those instincts, or whatever that is, and get away from this couch before I throw you out along with it!" You yelled, and this time it seemed to work, as his ears pinned back, he let out a low growl, retracted his claws, and stepped away from the furniture.

"I dunno what’s gotten into me, I can’t control it... I think I’ll head to the bathroom, at least there ain’t much there to wreck..." He closed his eyes, accepting his fate of locking himself away from you, before dramatically turning and walking out of the living room.

You were left alone there, staring at the complete destruction of your once-comfortable couch. Sighing, you pressed your fingers against your temple, thinking about how you would fix all of this.

--*--

Finally, after an entire day of trying to clean up the mess Scourge had made, you managed to sit down on the chair at the table, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

Throughout the day, your boyfriend had spent quite a while silently in the bathroom, lying curled up on the rug, probably trying to control himself in that form.

Now, you had gathered all the remains of your couch, only missing the task of taking the furniture itself outside, but you would wait for your boyfriend’s help with that.

That was when you clearly heard the sharp sound of porcelain shattering. Immediately, you squeezed your eyes shut, already knowing what to expect.

Standing up from the chair, you quickly walked toward the bathroom, beginning to hear the heavy, hurried footsteps running around inside the small space.

Stopping in front of the door, you slowly turned the doorknob, peeking inside, letting out a low groan when you saw the state of your bathroom.

The porcelain from what used to be your toilet and sink was scattered all over the floor, while the werehog ran frantically around, bumping into everything, and for a moment you wondered if you could put him up for adoption.

Opening the door wider, you spotted a huge hole in the wall, probably caused by him crashing into it or something similar, as well as claw marks everywhere.

Clearing your throat loudly, you caught Scourge's attention, who suddenly stopped, looking at you, startled.

"Uh, I was just testin' the bathroom’s toughness..." He looked away, not wanting to meet your gaze.

"Sure you were..." Scratching your neck, you looked around the room. "I'm going to make you clean and fix all of this when you go back to normal..."

He looked at you with his ears drooping to the sides, letting out a low growl, as if recognizing the mess he had made.

"Come on... I'm going to keep an eye on you now, maybe that'll stop you from destroying the house." You turned to leave, and Scourge promptly followed you closely.

--*--

Your hand slid through the fur on his head, feeling some of his quills occasionally prick you subtly. Scourge was lying next to you on the bed, with his muzzle buried against your side, one possessive paw holding your waist close.

You, on the other hand, were sprawled relaxed on the bed, using your free hand to scroll through your phone, checking social media updates.

He let out a long sigh, snuggling impossibly closer.

You thought he was finally calmer. That was until you felt his fangs start to press into your waist again, sending a shiver of discomfort through you.

"Hey, hey, no biting..." You tried to make him stop, but he only growled, biting a little higher up, making you jump slightly on the bed from the pain. "Scourge!"

Your hand grabbed his muzzle, trying to push him away, but it was impossible to fight against his desire to mark you. And if you didn't stop him now, he wouldn't stop until you were covered in sharp, canine bites.

That's when you had an idea.

Rubbing your finger against his nose, you made him scrunch his muzzle in discomfort, sniffing hard to try to fight off the tickle and the urge to sneeze.

Meanwhile, your hand quickly grabbed a belt you had on the nearby nightstand.

And the next thing Scourge noticed was a piece of leather tightly wrapping around his muzzle, making it impossible for him to open his mouth and use his sharp fangs for anything.

He let out a displeased growl, frowning. When his paw started to reach up to try to pull off the belt, you held him, pulling him into a hug.

Scourge looked curiously at your now more relaxed expression, and even though his heightened instincts told him to mark you as his mate, he managed to control himself, for you.

Closing his eyes slowly, he began to drift off to sleep.

--*--

Scourge gritted his teeth as the first rays of daylight invaded the bedroom window, waking him up. Opening his eyes in confusion, he noticed the belt on his muzzle and reached up to remove the object, looking to the side to see you waking up slowly as well.

"Hey, babe..." He called you, turning toward you.

"...Yeah?" You replied sleepily.

"Either I had the craziest damn dream of my life... or I got wasted yesterday... Ya remember what I did yesterday?" He asked quietly, you opened one eye to look at him, then yawned and sat up in bed.

"Actually... I do remember... You..." Your finger pressed against his chest above his scars. "You turned into a wolf monster out of nowhere, destroyed my table, destroyed my couch and my bathroom, and then left bite marks all over my waist..." You said seriously, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"What...?" Quickly sitting up in bed too, he looked at himself, seeing his normal body. However, he did feel as if he had used some kind of powerful form; his body ached subtly and felt heavier than usual. "I didn’t hurt ya, did I?" He asked, frowning.

"Relax... you would never hurt me." You leaned closer, giving your boyfriend a small kiss on the forehead. "Now, my love... You better wake up early and get to work cleaning everything..." You gave him a sly smile. "Better not waste time, there's a lot to clean up, you know..." Giving his nose a playful tap, you lay back down again, snuggling under the covers.

"I’m gonna want a little somethin' later, babe... To make up for all this work..." He mirrored your sly smile.

"No way, you’re the one making up for destroying my house yesterday..." You frowned at him.

"Don’t worry, I’ll clean up so good you’ll feel bad and wanna give me a gift..."

"We’ll see..." Laughing, Scourge got up, stretching and getting ready for a long day.

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #silver x reader #silver the hedgehog x reader #scourge x reader #scourge the hedgehog x reader

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emilys-bangs · 2 months ago

Note

Hi i have a request for your celebration ! 17 in the marigold category « Packing them lunch » for season 16 or 17 Emily.

I just know that with all the work and shit that happens to her, she sometimes forget to eat… That would be so cute if the reader pack lunch and puts it in emily’s bag before she goes to work. And Emily finds her lunch in a little box with a cute post-it and spend the rest of the day with a smile on her face and is so grateful when she comes home to her wife !!

Also congratulations for your 800 followers you’re an amazing writer 💋

This is the cutest!! Evolution Emily needs to be wifed up and I VOLUNTEER!!! Heh part of the 800 celebration :p

Tags: smitten emily, established relationship, sc/uc emily, just fluff, petnames, mentions of emily being too thin

Word count: 0.7k

As much as Emily would like to think that she’s somewhat organized, she’s really not. She trips over her shoes in the entrance, misplaces to-do lists and reminders and grocery lists, more than often giving up on finding them and just committing everything to memory. Her purse, once she takes it home, is usually never opened again until she’s back at work. Pens go missing, perfume bottles get swallowed up in its depths, jewelry and makeup go in and never come out. If she ever had the misfortune of discovering that something was missing, it was usually in the office, far too late.

This morning it’s a bit heavier than usual, but she doesn’t care enough to chance a look at the contents as she slings it over her shoulder and kisses you goodbye. It could just be pressing down on the tender muscle at the junction of her neck, sore and achy from god knows what it is now.

She forgets about it quickly. Right off the bat, there’s too much to think about, too much that needs her attention before the sun is fully off the horizon: tilting stacks of files, ringing phones and desperate callers behind them, scribbled in meetings that she can’t seem to cross off of her notepad. Emily barely gets off the elevator before Garcia’s on her, rambling about urgent consults and their apparently crushing, desperate need for new 8th generation iPads.

It all balls up into a slow but persistent headache settling at her temples. The pulsing starts sometime after ten, the bullpen buzzing with noise as she drags her blinds down with a rattle.

Emily’s shoulders slump when she’s out of view. She blows out a breath, rounding her way back to her desk and rooting through her purse. Her search for Advil goes forgotten when her hand brushes against something she definitely hadn’t packed.

Smooth, heavy, and glass, it’s not hard to tell what it is. Emily pulls the Tupperware out, her lips twitching when she sees the fruit you’d packed along with a sandwich, a sticky note pressed flat on the lid and stealing her attention. She peels it off, laughing as she reads your familiar scrawl, your voice echoing in her head.

Fuel up, Chief! You’ve got a busy day ahead of you, and you gotta kiss me by the end of it. Don’t work that pretty head too hard, though. Your frown lines won’t thank you.

Love you.

Emily doesn’t really think before dialing your number and pressing the phone to her ear. As it rings, she grabs the picture of you on her desk and carefully tucks the note inside the frame, slotting it between wood and glass and your beaming smile.

The tone dies.

“Hey, babe,” you greet sweetly.

“Hi.” Her grin travels through her voice. Whipped and boneless, it’s the same consistency as her mushy heart. “Thank you for packing me lunch.” She says softly.

God, is she twirling her hair around her finger?

She’s twirling her hair. Jesus.

Emily drops the strand, tucking it behind her ear as you hum into the phone. “I wanted to put some strawberries, but we ran out. Might go get some today.”

“Blueberries are fine.” She rushes out. “Perfect. I love them. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome. I should’ve started doing it a lot sooner. You’re skin and bones, Emily.”

“Am not.” She frowns.

“Uh huh. You’re worse than a toddler,” you murmur. She can imagine the scrunch of your nose. “Just eat it all, please? I’d like my wife to not wither away before I’m home to kiss her hello.”

Emily rolls her eyes, her lips pressing against a smile. “I won’t. You’re so dramatic.” Really, though, you’re not. Even she has noticed the recent airiness of her clothes, the way they hang less snug than they used to.

“Learned from the best.” You chirp, your laugh warming her insides. She lets you ramble on for a few seconds more, letting your voice dissolve the tension in her neck before you cut it short, “I have to go, Em. I love you.”

“I love you.” She murmurs, smoothing her thumb over the Tupperware and chewing down on another grin. “Take care.”

“Mhm. Come home.”

“You know I will.”

You hang up, and for a small, phantom moment, she forgets her headache. She’s preoccupied with snapping a picture of the note, something golden rushing in her blood and making her smile. It matches the glint of her wedding ring in the sunlight, unapologetically luminescent, both paths leading to you even when you’re miles away.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @piiinco @jareavsheavn @mourningthewicked @heartoreadallthequeerthingz @rustnroll @slutforabbyanderson

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fics #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss blurb #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #fic #eb800

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onlyangel4 · 1 year ago

Text

healing a heart i didn't break. LH44. MV1. SMAU. part three.

cheater! lewis hamilton x reader. max verstappen x reader.

when your boyfriend of three years fumbles, his rival is there to put the pieces of your heart back together bit by bit.

warnings: 14 year age gap with lewis. cursing. cheating.

author's note: our girl finally getting the treatment she deserves

prev // next

faceclaim: camilla morrone

y/ninsta posted a story

written: nothing could keep me away from austin

y/nupdates

liked by user12, user45, user62 and 15,629 others

y/nupdates: it is official mother is not missing the austin gp. she had us wondering whether she would be present after the news that dropped on friday and her not being present at qualifying but she is back in the paddock. as usual arriving with charles and alex. fits like this are one of the many things that make y/n the perfect wag.

view all 530 comments

user12: i'm so glad she didn't miss austin she is on the record so many times saying that it is her favourite date in the calender because of the chaos.

user45: the fit! y/exbff could never

user62: she is a better woman than me, i would be in bed eating my weight in ice cream if what happened to her happened to me

y/ninsta posted a story

written: change of scenery

f1updates

liked by user22, f1fan7, user54 and 250,028 others

f1updates: lewis hamilton faces engine failure during the 23rd lap and DNFs in austin.

view all 5,682 comments

user22: i call that karma

user54: oh no what a shame

f1fan7: y/n cursed that bitch

user52: the way the sky camera man knows exactly what he is doing. it cut from lewis getting out of his car to y/exbff looking all concerned and then to y/n sat in the rb garage just sipping her drink with a straw unbothered

liked by maxverstappen, y/ninsta, f1fan32 and 920,310

f1: and he does it again. max verstappen takes poll at austin with norris in second and russell in third.

view all 19,283 comments

f1fan32: can't wait to see what mad max has to say about lewis' dnf

user61: he is going to have so much to say but red bull will silence him

y/nfan2: the way he hugged y/n when he got off podium. this friendship was so unexpected but it is so perfect

user51: they are so sunshine x grumpy coded and i love it

y/ninsta posted a story

written: an outfit change before dinner with my favourite people

y/ninsta

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, alexandrasaintmleux and 761,982

y/ninsta: these past few months have been some of the worst of my entire life but the people in these picture + many more have made it one hundred times better. i love you all and i miss seeing you in the paddock however i am sure that with our many group chats i will still manage to annoy you all. so many exciting things on the horizon.

view all 7,284 comments

maxverstappen: going to miss your light in the paddock

y/ninsta: and i'm gonna miss all the free redbull

danielricciardo: and where did you get that last photo from

landonorris: i was about to ask the same thing

y/ninsta: you are both so stupid you stole my phone to take it

alexandrasaintmleux: charles is laughing at me for having tears in my eyes

y/ninsta: we are practically neighbors babe, you will see me all the time

y/nfan: y/n living in france? is she back in her model era?

carmenmundt: gonna miss my garage buddy but this is the right choice my love

y/ninsta: thank you my love

taglist: @sinofwriting @toldyouitwasamelodrama @formulaal

@minkyungseokie @shrbehndwn @gr1mes-cc @nichmeddar

@liberty-barnes @kravitzwhore @annaluna12

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ultravi0lence14 · 9 months ago

Text

Lover Boy

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.5k | fluff

summary: the double life of dean winchester seemed to come out when he would be dangerous and sinister around demons, yet soft and gentle when it came to how he loved you.

dean winchester was a tough man. raised as a soldier from a young age, he grew into one of the strongest men you’ve ever encountered.

even with all of that to factor in, dean was still a complete softie at his core.

his childish love for certain things was definitely a major reason. though how he treated you definitely gave it away. dean was always looking for you in a room, never wanting to be more than two feet away from you. not getting a lot of affection as a child, dean’s love language was most definitely physical touch. the man had to have his hands on you at all times. wether that be around your waist, shoulder, thigh, or even around your middle.

don’t even get started on all the cute little pet names he called you. cheesy stuff like that never made sense to you. the notion of it all had you assuming that you’d laugh in a man’s face if he even tried to utter the word ‘babe’ to your face.

with dean, it was different. the first time he called you sweetheart, you didn’t feel the urge to giggle. actually, you felt a blush dust your cheeks and a shy smile overtake your lips. since then, the older winchester has been dabbling with all different sorts of names. you drew the line when he tried to add ‘sugar mama’ into the mix, but that was just dean.

baby, honey, angel, sunshine, you name it. dean was collecting them all like trading cards, and you seriously weren’t complaining.

on top of it all, dean was very over protective when it came to you. to dean, you were the best thing that ever happened to him. if anything ever happened to you, dean was positive he would never be able to forgive himself. so will all of his will, dean spent hunts focusing on two things — killing the monster and making sure you came out of it unscathed and wound free.

today was no different. sam had caught wind of a vamps nest down in georgia, and the two brothers weren’t against blowing off some steam and decapitating a couple of bloodsuckers.

everything was going as usual. you three scoped out the town, figuring out what the best place would be for the vampires nest. when the location was secured, you and the brothers waited until dusk. the sun was drifting down over the horizon, laying illuminating shadows over the ground as you creeped up towards the vacant barn behind dean.

both sam and dean decided that going in guns blazing would be the best option. catch some vampires by surprise and kill a couple before the real fight happened. you knew how to use a machete, and you’d beheaded a couple of vamps in the past, but dean wasn’t always so keen on you joining. his words exactly were ‘if anything happened to you i wouldn’t know what to do with myself. all i want is for you to be safe, baby.’

you understood where he was coming from, but you also knew you were fully capable killing a couple vamps without any harm. with a long hour of begging and pouting, dean finally let you tag along. his only proposition being you stayed close to him, which wasn’t a problem since you tended to do that anyway.

the three of you made it to the doors of the barn. sam didn’t wait before he swung the door open, striding towards the nearest vampire and smoothly chopping it’s head off. the fight was now in full swing. a total of six vampires had resided in this abandoned barn, leaving five more for you, sam, and dean to deal with.

you felt a tug on the back of your shirt as one of the female vampires tried to push you back. you weren’t stupid, nor incompetent when it came to fighting, so you instantly handled her blow and whirled around with a swift punch to her nose.

dean had taught you everything you needed to know about hand to hand combat. being there to help with your position and allow you to practice your at the time, feeble punches on him. there had been countless occasions where dean got sidetracked as his arms wound up around you from behind. his intentions being to help with your form, but he ended up ravishing on your soft skin instead.

your fight with the female vamp didn’t last long. after a couple of punches and attempts to throw one another onto some hay bales, you found the perfect timing to swing your machete and precisely have her head rolling. the satisfaction of the kill didn’t last long, for a gruff and aggressive hand pushed you hard in the centre of your back, sending you flying into one of the adjacent walls.

a big, burly male vampire had you cornered. he succeeded in knocking the blade out of your hand, sending it scattering across the floor and completely out of your reach. his solid face made it almost impossible for you to land a decent punch, for each time he took them with ease, a bored look on his face like he was unsatisfied with your feeble attempts to fight him off.

in a last minute effort, you mustered all your strength and pushed him as hard as you could. it didn’t work, for he just grabbed the back of your head and smashed your forehead against a wooden support beam. drowsiness was taking over, and you could feel his thick fingers wrap around your neck as consciousness started to slip away from your body.

accepting your demise, you just let him have it, knowing there was no way in hell you could fight him now. though to your luck, like an angel coming down from heaven to save you, dean winchester came into view behind the man’s shoulders. his face was set in a murderous glare, arm reaching for the back of the vamps neck as he forcefully pulled him off of you.

weak from the beating, your limp body fell to the ground. as you supported yourself against the wooden beam, you watched as dean completely ditched his machete and resorted to pummeling the vampire to a bloody pulp. dean didn’t want his death to be quick, he wanted to inflict as much pain on this vile creature as he had on you. with an unfiltered rage, dean completely wailed on the vamps face, leaving no room for him to fight back.

“how does it feel, huh? getting exactly what you gave. think you can hurt my girl like that? you’re lucky i don’t string you up and bleed you dry.” his words slightly frightened you, but you knew dean would never lean towards such gruesome acts of violence. in his rage, dean sometimes completely lost control of what he would say. allowing people to become slightly afraid of what he was capable of.

the feeling of sam’s comforting hands directed your attention away from dean’s brutal assault. the sweet man was making sure you weren’t badly injured. checking if you had a concussion or if the wound on your forehead would need stitches or not. as sam started gingerly touching the already blossoming bruise on your neck, you watched as dean grabbed his blade and crushed it down into the vampires neck. completely detaching it from his body and killing him for good.

like a switch had flipped in his brain, you watched as dean quickly put his machete into his sheath and dart over to you. sam’s voice letting you two know that he was going to grab the impala was completely drowned out as dean’s rugged yet gentle hands grasped your face. he moved it side to side, inspecting to see how badly that vamp had hurt you.

“oh sweetheart,” he mumbled, wincing as he noticed the gash on your forehead. “you’re okay. i’m here baby, i’m right here.” his voice soothed you, yet the aches and pains radiating through your head and still tender neck had you whimpering, sticky tears starting to collect on your cheeks.

leaning into dean’s hand, you let your first sob break free from your lips. “dean.” you mumbled, trying to get your words out through the lump in your throat and choked sobs. “it hurts. it hurts so bad.” the look on dean’s face could’ve broken down the strongest of men. he looked so distraught. almost as though the pain you were experiencing was finding a way to attach itself to his own body.

in a way, it was kind of just like that. dean seeing you in pain brought him pain. he would rather experience any form of hellish torture than watch you suffer.

caressing your cheek one last time, dean moved his arms around the back of your knees and shoulder. he picked you up bridal style, slowly walking his way towards sam and the impala. “i know baby, you are going to be just fine.” he whispered, relishing in the way your head snuggled into his chest. “i’m going to make you feel all better. i swear.”

the ride back to the motel was filled with sam’s frantic worrying and dean’s hushed voice assuring you on your recovery. he opted to sit in the backseat with you, resting your head on his lap while softly stroking your hair, smoothing it down away from the cut on your forehead.

as sam rolled in front of the motel, you heard as he told dean he would run to the nearest store and get some food, knowing you’d be hungry after everything that just happened. from the impala to the motel room bed, everything was a blur. the only thing you slightly remember is dean carrying you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you that everything would be fine.

placing you gently onto the bed, you watched as dean got up to go grab the first aid kit. his frame was becoming a little blurry as you felt yourself slipping into sleeps comforting clutches. dean’s hands softly shaking you and propping you to sit upright on the bed had your eyes reopening. his eyes held a gentle glint, yet somewhere in the mix, a cloud of panic and worry moved over it.

“cmon honey, stay awake for me.” his voice caressed your ears with a soft, gentle kiss that made you smile. yet at the same time, you could hear the underlying tones of panic and worry. dean was scared for you, and dean being genuinely scared was not something a lot of people saw.

you just smiled at him, moving your one hand so it was delicately placed on his knee. “i’m fine, dean. i’m right here, alive and breathing. nothing to worry about.” you could tell that your words eased him a little, but as his fingers lightly grazed your bruised neck, the worry rolled back onto him like a tidal wave. “fuck your neck. i let this happen to you, i am so so sorry-“

the feeling of your pointer finger coming over his lips stopped dean mid sentence, his stunned face in your direct eyesight as you gave him the most intense serious face you could muster. “i don’t want to be hearing any of that. you did your best, dean. you were busy fighting the others, and i had him until he turned my head into a whack-a-mole mallet.” your words had a slight laugh bubbling in dean’s lips, making your smile brighten. “none of this is your fault. blame the vamp. who thanks to you, is now as dead as ever.”

furrowing his brows and crinkling his eyes, dean mumbled to himself something he thought you didn’t hear. but you did. you always did when it came to dean. “he’s lucky that’s all i did.” dean’s blatant protective behaviour towards you made you feel comforted. yes you could take care of yourself, but it was nice to have that extra watchful eye every once and a while.

a quiet hum settled over the room as dean tended to the cut on your forehead. his hand lightly held your face, making sure you stood still. he also wanted an excuse to touch you, for your face was probably the most beautiful thing dean winchester had ever laid his eyes on.

“there we go baby, all done”. dean said as he put away the first aid kit. when the eldest winchester turned back to face you, your eyes watched as he gingerly grabbed your face. he didn’t want to hurt you, and your heart couldn’t feel more full because of it. with both hands clasping your face, he placed his lips on your temple, leaving a delicate kiss over the bandaged scrape.

he then moved to your eyelids, kissing each one as he envisioned your beautiful coloured eyes looking back at him. long lashes decorating them as you stared up into his own eyes. next he kissed both of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, and finally, dean left a soft, feather like kiss upon your lips.

dean kissed you as if you were made of glass. he was so worried of hurting you, making sure that whatever he did didn’t push on your wounds at all.

“i love you so much.” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours. so much so that your lips were still basically touching. “when i saw him hurting you, i felt something in me shatter. i don’t know what i’d do without you, sweetheart.” his words struck right into your heart, giving you such a feel of warmth that it spread throughout your whole body.

bringing your lips softly to dean’s cheek, you too left a feather light kiss on his cheek bone. voice vibrating off the surface as you couldn’t find yourself to move away. “i love you too dean. so much more than you could ever imagine.”

both you and dean’s declarations of love brought forth something into your relationship. a sense of love, hope, and security. you knew that dean would always be there to protect you, and dean knew that you would always be there to bring him down. rationalize his brain with comforting words when he needed them most.

the love you two shared was pure. something driven from fresh snow directly fallen from the sky. as the two of you laid down on the bed, you wondered how it was that you got so lucky with a man like dean. a man who loved so deeply and so ardently that it spilled out of his pores.

dean winchester was the man you were sure you would spend the rest of your life with. and as he molded your body with his, hand on the back of your head and making sure you two were as close as possible, you realized that there was nothing to worry about.

for dean would always be there for you, and always love you like it was his way of breathing.

#supernatural #imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural x reader #fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot

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midnightshindig · 4 months ago

Note

I've had the idea of another Multi-Paul drabble rolling around in my head, so bare with me:

Think of him getting out of prison in the newer episode and meeting up with his s/o who he left behind after getting locked up. The both of them having a dramatic meet-up after s/o was sure she wouldn't be seeing him for a while

(maybe he gets a lil handsy (´ 3｀))

MultiPaul x Reader

no nsfw for this one, still debating my feelings on the dude for the time being.

I've been getting some questions about how I pick and choose who I will or won't write for, write smut for, etc. I'll keep it real: sometimes it's just bc I don't want to. An NSFW alphabet is different than a full oneshot or drabble, or consistent requests. I stand by my character list pinned to the top of my profile, although feel free to check it every now and again to see if its changed

thank you! hcs, like always, under the cut!

There had been only a couple of things on Paul's mind since being imprisoned:

The Order should be getting him soon

If they didn't, he was going to be killed, so he couldn't share The Order's secrets

If he died, he wouldn't make it home to you

So the motivation for escape was clear

He didn't want to die and he COULDN'T die before getting to see you

On those restless nights on that hard prison bed, he could see you, waiting for him, so far away, all alone in your shared apartment

You were probably feeding his pitbull, Xerox

Multi-Paul was suddenly very grateful you two got along so well

it quelled his anxieties, slightly, to know you werent' completely defenseless in his absence.

it'd been a few months

god

a few MONTHS

Paul was going a little stir crazy

You couldn't visit, lest you be outed as an affiliate of him

and he couldn't have every superhero and villain in a twenty mile radius gunning for you

The thought of Machine Head or even Titan being around you made him sick

You didn't belong in a world like that

his world

No, he shook his head to himself, folding his arms and leaning against the wall of his cell

that wasn't all his world was, not anymore

You had a way of broadening his horizons

ugh. he couldn't help but miss you, it chewed away at him, and made the maddeningly claustrophobic walls of his container all the more frustrating

So, when the opportunity presented itself, he escaped

he'd brutalize and kill and maime as many copies of himself as it took to get to you

god knows it would be worth it

Not even Atom Eve could contain him, not when he had you on the agenda

All the while, you HAD been lonely

It'd been just you and Xerox in that homely apartment, too empty and too hollow without Paul around

You knew this was the risk of his occupation, and couldn't even claim to be surprised

but you couldn't visit

you couldn't call

you couldn't tell anyone about what you were going through

you felt so completely and utterly alo-

"Hey babe"

"Holy shit-" you shot up from your seat on the couch and directed your attention to

"Paul!" running over, you threw your arms around you, allowing him to swing you around ceremoniously

He set you down gently, pressing you into a sweet kiss "I missed you" he sounded worn down, if not absolutely exhausted by whatever he'd gone through before coming to you

You rested a hand of his face, gently supporting his heavy head "Oh, Paul.... are you safe?"

He sucked a sharp breath in though his teeth, looking at the door hesitantly "ehhhh....." he looked back and shrugged half-heartedly "Sort of? They think they still have me."

A sly smile broke out across his face, revelling in his own talent and capability

The talent and capability that brought him home

His moment of self-appreciation was broken by your sniffling

"Wh- Y/n?"

You were crying quietly, trying to wipe it all away with your fists, getting your tears all over your hands and making it worse

"Oh- Fuck- uh-" he wrapped you into a soft hug, pressing your head into his chest "It's okay, babe, I'm here"

You hit his chest with your fists gently "I didn't think I was going to see you for months- YEARS- Paul." Your anger was filled with an unmistakable sense of fear and deep loneliness

Oh... you poor thing....

Paul couldn't help but press a reassuring kiss to the top of your head

"It's okay, Y/n, you know I'm the best at what I do."

"They GOT YOU, Paul. You were in there for MONTHS and I was ALONE." your desperation to be understood caused your throat to crack up, and your voice strained

He didn't realize you were this pained- or, no, he did, he just never expected to be so directly confronted with it

but here you were, here he was, everything was fine

and you sobbed a little harder into his chest, ruining his prison shirt

"I don't want to lose you, Paul. I love you."

He gently brushed his fingers over your hair, smoothing out the flyaways

"It's okay, I'm here now, I'm here now."

"Don't do that to me, ever again, okay?" you asked between sniffles

His expression softened as he nodded "Of course not, of course not. I got you. I've got you." He leaned down and kissed you again, your tears staining his face, but he didn't care

You'd calmed down a bit, and Paul took this as an opportunity

"do you want to sit down for a bit? We can... order dinner?" he proposed, eliciting a small smile from you

"That sounds nice, can I choose?"

He faked a gasp "Y/n, I've been eating prison food for months!"

You smacked his shoulder with a bigger smile "Too bad, we're getting Indian food."

He fake-groaned, slumping onto your shoulders "Boo- y/n, you know I hate indian food"

"Paul, stop, you looooove indian food."

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek "Yeah yeah, you got me."

#invincible #invincible show #invincible season 3 #invincible fanfic #invincible spoilers #invincible x reader #invincible multi paul x reader #invincible multi paul #multi paul x reader #multi paul

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ashblooddragons · 7 months ago

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Just As Bad As You Are

Request made by @athzhowakar

Summary: When a worderful lay with your husband leads to you giving him good news, but what if he pieces together your dark secret, the only thing you would ever keep from your dear older brother.

Word count: 1377

Warnings: smut, p in v, slight choking, mentions of miscarriges, mentions of poisioning, toxic relationship, Targcest, tell me if I missed anything

I moan as Maegor fucks me from behind, there isn’t a night he doesn’t take me. For why should he go to his others when they can’t give him children and I’ve already given him three?

“Maegor.” I moan out as he grabs my hair making me arch my back.

“I’m gonna put another babe in that belly of yours, you’ve been empty of my seed for too long.” he groans out as he grinds his hips just right, that he makes me see stars.

I can’t help but laugh, for ever since the Maesters said I was fit for childbearing again there hasn’t been a morning or night that his seed wasn’t working its way inside me. “Do you truly think with how often you take me that I am not with child yet?” I say before another moan leaves my throat when his palm lands on my rear.

“Every time I think I fuck that brat out of you, then it rears its head begging to be taught a lesson.” He says before pulling out and flipping me so I lay on my back only to slam back into me with more force and vigor than before.

“What, no snarky remark, no comment on how I love when you’re a brat? He teases as he takes my right leg and puts over his shoulder so we both feel him go deeper.

I can’t even speak, I just grip the hair on the back of his neck as he ruts into me. I know if any maid, courtier, or gods forbid one of his other fucking wives, walked by they would only hear the sound of skin hitting his and obscene moans.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I beg as I feel my peak just along the horizon.

“Go on, cum on my cock you little slut.” He demands as he reaches up to grip my throat choking me until he feels my cunt spasm around his cock as I milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck.” He groans out as his seed fills me before he lays against my chest.

We lay there as we both come down from our highs. Me rubbing his back tracing all his scars like constellations, and him kissing my neck and moving his hands up and down my thighs adn ribs.

It’s these moments I feel the safest, not when I have two guards following me, or when I stand next to my darling golden Gaelithox. No, I feel the safest when I’m in the arms of the man I love, and who loves me.

“I wasn’t being a brat, the Maesters told me last night I’m with child again.” I whisper before playfully biting his ear.

His look is priceless when he leans back looking down at me as he uses his arms to hold himself up. “Do not jest.” He says with that tone that makes even men tremble, but not me.

I take his shocked state as a chance to take control and flip us so I’m on top. “I do not jest, my moon blood is two moons late.” I say as I pin his arms next to his head. We both know if he wanted to he could easily get out of my grip, but we also both know he doesn’t want to.

With those words I climb off his lap and take my robe and wrap it around me as I go to tell the guard that I am in need of a bath. As I wait I decide to brush my hair before my bath as it doesn’t need washed but it most definitely needs brushed after our escapades.

I notice Maegor is lost in thought but assume it must be because of a council meeting, he pulls on his breaches as my Maids come in with hot water for my bath. I sigh in relief as I sink into the heat of the bath waving my Maids away. “Leave me.”

I start to scrub my arms with pomegranate seeds not noticing Maegor taking a stool and sitting behind me.

“You’ve never lost a babe.” His gruff voice fills my ears startling me as I turn to look up at him.

“No I haven’t?” I look at him confused, fighting the fear that fills my belly that he has figured it out.

He only moves to take some pomegranate and my other arm starting to scrub the coarse seeds into my skin. I watch as his jaw tenses and releases and I know he knows when his eyes look into mine.

“And yet all of my other wives have.” He says his eyes boring into mine but I will not show fear, I don’t regret what I did. “I thought Tyanna, though I suspect I was right with her. But there were many lost, too many she couldn’t have known about that left their mothers wombs too soon. My Council said you must have something to do with it, I didn’t want to believe them, but now I wonder if I should have.” He says gripping my arm to the point tears come to my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

“Do you want me to admit something? Perhaps make the accusation.” I hiss out as I grit my teeth.

I watch as his nostrils flare in rage, I know he doesn’t want to accuse me, I’m his sweet little sister, but he also knows I won’t admit anything if he doesn’t accuse me first.

“Did you force them to miscarry? Did you poison my other wives?” He demands with a scowl.

“Yes.”

I watch as his face morphes into shock and rage. I know he must have been praying I would no, that I would deny these allegations until my last breath, but I won’t for I don’t regret what I did.

“Why?” He asks in a calm voice that I know is hiding a inferno of rage.

“Your my brother, we came from the same womb, and yet I had to share you with a barren Hightower, a whore from across the seas, and three more courtly whores. You didn’t even wed me properly, you took me at the same time as you did those two other bitches looking for any needy hound. I knew what I had to do, Mother didn’t teach me those dark ways for nothing, she knew just as I do now. That you are weak, you will take any lady or whore to your bed and call her wife, that all a man has to do is have his pretty daughter suck your cock and then he is a man to be jealous of. But I am not some Lady of court, nor am I a whore, I am a dragon and a dragon must find another of their kind or else their embers will cease to burn. So I poisoned your stupid little wives, and I made sure Tyanna didn’t touch my womb for I would be the only one to bear your children. I don’t regret it, I never would, but now you have decision to make.” I say breathless after I let all the darkness I had kept hidden from him for so long out of my heart and into the air so only us and the gods to hear and judge.

He only stares at me, tears brimming his eyes before he looks down, shaking his head. “And what decision is that?” He asks force breaking from sheer shock.

“Will you execute me, charge me for my crimes? Or will you keep this a secret that we take our graves letting no man judge me, only the gods.” I say reaching over the tub to take his hands in mine.

I smile when I feel his hands squeeze mine and he looks back up at me and says. “Now what kind of older brother would I be to have my little sister hanged for something so trivial?”

He then leans forward and kisses me fiercely picking me up as I wrap my legs around his waste.

“I knew you would never betray me.” I say as he kisses down my stomach towards my core as he begins another round.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy

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harmless-variety-of-garden-snake · 12 days ago

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But With You I Just Go Wild

Written for @bottomtommyweek Day Two: Kinks (alternate prompt). Here there be drugged sex/somnophilia. It's Buck/Tommy!

Tommy exists in the realm of what he thinks of as “vanilla kinks,” which is to say that he’s spanked a few people, gone cruising via apps, and his boyfriend calls him Daddy sometimes. But Evan is helping him to expand his horizons, because normally Tommy would only be willing to explore most things if he trusts someone. There’s no one in the world he trusts more than Evan.

“You’ve gotta have fantasies, though,” Evan says from where his head is pillowed on Tommy’s stomach. “Like, I still have some I haven’t done because it would break the law or because it’s not physically possible.”

“You mean like porn scenarios or what?” Tommy asks, and Evan's eyebrows raise. “What?”

“Babe, all your porn is just us, amateur couples fucking, or bears with muscle bottoms,” he points out, and Tommy flushes. “There's no story in any of them, they’re just on a bed or whatever.”

“There used to be,” he admits, stroking his fingers through Evan’s messy curls. “Back in the day of dial-up, I used to download whatever was available. It was mostly sad Eastern European guys, gay-for-pay frat bros, and twinks getting fucked in classrooms by balding ‘roid monsters. I don't miss it.”

“That’s pretty fair,” Evan concedes, making a face. “You never liked any of them?”

“I mean, I was a horny teenager, so I was just happy to be looking at a dick that wasn't my own,” he points out, then pauses. “Okay, some of the frat guy ones were hot.”

Evan raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Yeah?”

Tommy reaches out to poke the eyebrow with his fingertip. “What about you? What's your not physically possible fantasy?”

“Freezing time, playing with the person I want, and then time unfreezes and they feel everything I did all at once,” Evan says easily, and Tommy blinks. “I read it in a porn story once. It'd be with consent in my case, obviously. But you'd blink and be fine and normal and then immediately be cumming and feel like you just got fucked.”

“That's…you know what? Fair enough,” Tommy says, considering that for all of a half a second and deciding it would be really hot. “You could always just fuck me while I'm sedated. That's sort of similar. I'd try it.”

Evan scratches his nails through Tommy's happy trail for a moment. “If we hate it, we just never do it again.”

“Exactly.”

He smiles up at Tommy before wriggling up for a kiss, and Tommy wonders if being with another person was always supposed to be this easy or if Evan's just that special.

Read the rest on AO3 here!

#bucktommy #my fic #911 fanfic #bottomtommyweek #tommy kinard #evan buckley

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1-49 · 9 months ago

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bare sugars

╰► that’s my baby, that’s my sugar, i don’t need no honey on the side . . . that’s unconditiona-nal.

pairing:f!reader × jaehyun ⁝ tags: motel. lotta tension. jae likes to show skin lol history i allude to but never explain sry. short scenario inspired by this teaser photo. diabetes keep away5k

It ’s a place in between places, on the outskirts of some sunbaked-desert town. What began as a hopeful promise, somewhere in the chaos of the last seven days , has faded into obscurity.

When this road trip kicked off, the entire crew was pumped on the : ‘Noones getting ditched! Everyones got to be part of ──── no matter how intense the next adventure gets !!’ Yet, here you are, left behind with the one person you were hoping to dodge.

A velvety, green sofa sets the scene & the honey glow of golden hour falls on wood - panelled walls ─── Lying on his back , Jaehyun rocks yet another one of his 250+ crumpled print tees, retro lettering in : ‘The Grateful Dead.’ Its fabric hiked up , intentionally or not , giving his casual style a little extra edge.

────This specific old shade of blue denim jeans, those grey Calvins, the belt that struggles to keep the outfit together ... His belly that just kind of vacuums in whenever it wants ... A plush land really ... The faux freckles on his cheeks which mimic sunflower seeds, and his hair that shines like a field of gold ...

A babe , though the design guilt he wears in his dark eyes remains as you capture yet another moment with your camera.

The two shy cuties in his cheeks and his keys lying abandoned on the pink carpet. His languid binks & perpetually movey lips. His Converse’s loose laces... The unhurried. The lazy. The slow...

It’s all captured on film & as you pull the camera away from your face, he still keeps an eye on you, not necessarily looking for a reaction but...

Well, you better... drop that feedback, or things might...

take a turn for the worse...

And—

And they do... with him tucking his hand under his head & his shirt riding up thoughtlessly even more...

And it’s bad. It’s—It’s like he’s in charge of how you feel and is directing the scene. Like as if he’s your television & there’s no turning him off.

This almost ever so present paradoxical quality to him—a blend of approachability and impenetrability that’s hard to elaborate. Or his lazy attractiveness which simply defies logic: for he’s simultaneously doing nothing and everything, drawing you in completely without lifting a finger.

Or... how these are just a few of the countless reasons why you’ve never asked him to bring you the horizon, or, hell, dared to dream about having him.

Of how the four walls and the door close on you and how looking at him strikes you with a funny fear, making you want to melt deep into the contents of the floor.

Oh, to fuck with that...

Gently, you adjust the fine black lace along the hem of your brown silk dress; draw in the fluffy cardigan tighter around you; and to escape the perfect features of his perfect face, you walk up to the window.

Yet, no matter how hard you search for a way out, the four walls of this claustrophobic room offer little in the way of escape. You’re fucking stuck... Counting your fingers anew whenever gets nothing done, and flipping through the channels on the tiny TV does nothing to clear the monotony. The minutes drag on endlessly, and no matter how many board games you play or photos you take, the clock seems to mock you. Each moment drags as if the world has hit the pause button, leaving you with him in this quiet space.

“Uuggh, coome oooon!” You stomp your feet, looking out the window. “The losers promised they’d be back by six!”

Jaehyun blows a bubble that bursts with a loud snap, grinning at you. “Ummm—You realize promises aren’t really being kept here anymore, right?”

Yeah, right... Fuck promises! You told yourself you wouldn’t get attached to him but look at you now...

Rolling your eyes, you glance out the window again, right as he asks,

“Why? Are you hungry?”

And sure, they were supposed to be the ones bringing the food, but it seems their adventure has taken a detour into yet another town at the end of the world; said, ‘This is what happens when you skip out—So, you two sort it out.’

“Some sweets would be nice. But no, um,” you tensely pull at your cardigan’s sleeves, clenching the ends in your fists. “Are they okay? I’m a little nervous.”

Though all he does is just casually burst another ridiculous bubble...“I’m sure they’re fine.”

Right… So next you’re left to watch him scrape bits of pink gum from his lips, and before you know it, a wave of irritation pulls you back to his side.

You’re barely balanced on the edge of the sofa, aiding in his clumsy efforts. Your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, and the air around him gets to your head just instantly, thick with the sugary scent of the sticky residue that you find yourself obliged to help remove... It’s so sugary that it borders on being revolting! Or perhaps it’s your sweet tooth that’s igniting this feeling?

Silly, cause you feed into this quirky theory that butterflies taste like bubblegum, and now that notion takes on a funny twist, well... considering the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

As you pull your fingers away from his lips, a rush of blood roars in his ears and he quickly adds, “Might have something in my bag, let me see.”

And totally! The bag that somehow collected a ton of pendants during this road trip does sit by the sofa, and with Jaehyun lounging back, stretching his arms overhead to grab it, his shirt gets pulled up even higher, & just like that, it becomes the cause for another thing you wish you never said.

Definitely not the sight you were hoping for... The tee hiked up, way above his ribs, exposing a good portion of his slim waist as he giggles, showing off that boyish grin while rummaging through the bag behind... still looking at you.

The eye contact ****

The fcking gum that just so erratically becomes his plaything, getting relentlessly crushed beneath the pressure of his teeth, repeatedly transforming into a sticky mass that fills his mouth, stressing the rugged contours of his strong jawline...

His fucking belly...

The happy trail...

Godsent personal hell!

Your heart is thumping away in your chest and your ribs aren’t exactly doing much to protect it. The stressed thing seems ready to pop like one of his balloons and leave you in an ever-sticker mess...

“Mmmmm...” he hums, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling a handful of candies from the bag behind him. “Let’s see what we have.”

Placing each treat onto his stomach as if the world were about to erupt in a frenzy of sugar-fueled chaos, Jaehyun carefully begins to arrange each piece, making sure they’re spaced out just right and sorted into rational portions in case such an outbreak actually happens. In no time, a vibrant array of treats sprawls across him and his funky-ridden shirt, everything from lollipops, chewy gums, gummy bears, and sour candies, to little chocolates.

Imagine a carnival! The flashy colors are super distracting, and those chocolate bars are practically begging you to grab them. Still, you can’t help but tease him a bit to annoy him, specially since you’ve been going back & forth for the past three days.

“Really,” you pout cynically, “You took this many?? You’re such a…”

With a burst of laughter that is hearty & sweet, Jaehyun sends the poor candies resting on the very sides of his waist to tumble down onto the sofa as if that earthquake had REALLY made its presence felt.

“Mmmmm- Why would I want to spend money on fancy treats? Besides...” He spaces out for a bit... then remarks with a smirk, “My theory is basically sweets are sweets.”

And he tightens his lips to seem all serious, but honestly, it just makes everything worse. The dude doesn’t even lift a finger to be funny; it’s like humour just radically appears around him, and the stuff he comes up with...

Poof! A total goof or a creative thinker? It really just comes down to your mood at the time.

You grimace once more, shaking your head at him, and subtly shift your weight to your legs rather than sitting on the sofa, your body ready to leap away at the slightest hint of contact.

With an adorable, surprised expression his eyes grow round as he stares at you, “What!?” His brows shoot up too in effort to justify himself.

“That piñata was there for everyone to go wild and, umm- grab whatever they could!” Lifting his hands defensively, he pouts, “Not my fault!”

Aaaand that fucking shirt of his?

Isss at it againnnn!@#£%^*

Your mind is reeling as the candy mountain spills over in a fun avalanche.

No, because why go through all that trouble to arrange them perfectly just to wreck it himself!?

Yeah,

anyway, you find nothing to match that, indeed it was up to anyone to snatch whatever they wanted, it just looks like he had deeper pockets than the rest of you idiots to stash all that stuff, that’s all there is to it. So you give in to the urge to ‘screw it,’ let out another eye roll, and grab a tiny bag of gummy bears.

As if he’s achieved something, Jaehyun’s hands find their way back beneath his head, and the flirtatious smile continues in his eyes. He just basks in the moment until your frustration—the sting of yet another cheeky defeat—causes you to fumble to open the bag and so all the gummy bears go flying everywhere.

Add chaos?

Check!

Is he into it?

Also, check.

The pack is but what that piñata was a few days ago, bleeding in beautiful colors and gushing all things sweet.

“Ugghhh!!” Tossing your head back, you groan dramatically.

And understandably so!!! While Jaehyun?

He beams as he sticks his tongue in his cheek, and snatches the empty bag from your hands. He casually spits his spent pink gum inside it, takes a pair of gummies from his abs, and gently runs them against his lips before sliding them in...

And t

And it’s so fucking frustrating that this guy has no clue about the importance of breaking eye contact! You’re always left searching for a word that’s stronger than ‘insufferable,’ but really, the dude just constantly goes all out with everything. Legit!

It drives you crazy. He—

Munching on them playfully, Jaehyun thinks for a moment, swallows, & then quirks an eyebrow, smirking,

“Wanna hear what the gummies just whispered into my mouth?”

What the gummies have what??

You shake your head at his nonsense but arch a brow back. Because if you had to be honest, those jelly babies aren’t the only thing looking to spill some secrets in his mouth... So, yeah, you’re JUST listening! As a matter of fact, you’re all tuned in to catch what absurdity he’s about to dish out next.

Pushing his lips together, a bratty shape that just begs to be kissed, he sits with his answer. There’s something very precious and terribly frustrating about how he keeps his responses close like they’re the best puns ever. Then he eventually smiles, “Thank you for releasing us.”

........ Woaah, they’ve at least been honest with him! Which is... cool...

Cool! Great! Awesome! You next!

“Mmm-hmm,” for dummies, some skeptical eyes and a cynical head nod are all you have...

When the magnitude of his languid x menacing should be studied!!!

Really, a quirky cotton candy man! A sugar. A delicate toxic substance.

Like, fuck! He—He’s just- unbeatable.

That’s an overwhelming amount of power for him to have... Like, that’s too much hot... Too much sweet… It’s no good…

Like-

Like the doses got all jacked up when he was made... Accidentally spilled too much of each, and now he’s just a walking health risk.

Catch it!

The disease spreads just like it always has—quickly and definitely. This earthtone babe just knows exactly how to get under your skin.

So hard to resist... So hard to not take a bite...

It’s just how it goes, you know?

Things...

Eyes...

Fingers...

& before you realise it, your fingertips glide past his jeans, over to his skin, igniting a rush of sensations with each line you draw across his abs.

Inevitably, the air gets charged with an energy... that’s not innocent. You feel the sparks. Not the good kind of sparks, but the sinful ones... The—

It’s like a dream at first, experiencing the thrill of someone yearning for your touch so badly.

Jae is every bit as tough as he looks, but the moment your fingers brush against him, that narrative shifts entirely. It feels like he’s been craving your touch, and those days without it have been an unbearable! fucking! stretch!

Gentle, sensual skin, a supremely royal shade of luxury milk. Everything that’s connected with a beautiful sweet, sweet & touching is associated with him.

He’s just spot on! And your stomach is growling. And you’re looking for a bite to eat...

In fact, you’re so down bad, your sweet tooth’s at an all-time high; honestly, you’d probably go as far as to start licking him right now.

In a straight line? Curved? In any manner that sparks your creativity? Anything real—

...The hot transference from his skin onto your hand? The way he teases his lip!?? The way he shyly and discreetly raises his hips against your touch as if silently pleading for

Thisss baddieee!!

Reading into all these crazy action bits has you all jittery that you completely jump when his hand lands on your bare thigh, right at the lace border.

nononono-

With a gulp, you instantly! rise from the couch. How—Just why did you end up falling back so e

Fast, desperation kicks in- just- again like those moments ago... and you’re back to pacing this same motel room, seeking an escape from him. Except every aspect now feels as if it’s been cranked up to ten times the difficulty.

The reddish-brown timber panels on the walls give off tough prison steel, and the pink carpet feels all squishy and weird under your bare feet right when you need a stable solid... All while Jaehyun is- just- there... planted in place, now seated, legs all spread, on the green sofa. There’s really nothing you can do but hope he stays right where he is.

But! once something’s set in motion, it stays in motion. Like a wildfire racing thru dry lands, fierce and unstoppable. And you just happened to let a match slip past your fingers a heartbeat ago, screwing everything up...

Naturally, he gets up. Also, that belt of his really accomplishes nothing... it’s just there to be there, so he’s just got to pull up his baggy jeans himself before he can even take a step forward.

& what his rising does is kick off a frantic chase as you two whirl around the room in a relentless spiral, & he’s hot on your tail... The very thought of him catching up on you sends dopamine through your veins, making your pulse quicken.

Plus that stunning smile? Plus his unconditional happiness? Well, both make him even more irresistible but both also complicate things for you. The excitement mounts as he approaches in the chase, each heartbeat making the thrill even stronger; that once he abruptly stops, the sprinting exertion takes its toll.

His breath comes in heavier gasps, his cheeks are flushed with a pinch of peach, and his bangs are a tousled mess, dancing around him like dandelion fluff does in the wind. Just a pure, natural and effortless elegance. He’s so incredibly attractive it almost hurts to look at him.

The tension though peaks as his words build to a sharp climax of a fact.

“You-um- You’ve been avoiding me this whole trip.”

...That sinking feeling in your heart like a rock just hit it? Yeah...

Yeah, you wish that voice of his didn’t resonate through your very being, scraping against every nerve ending, but that’s what it always does. It freezes you in place, making you overwhelmed and powerless.

It’s kind of wild how bringing up a heavy topic during a playful moment can make it feel that much more sincere. With so many choices, he went right for the thing that drives him crazy, and that should show you what’s on his mind... at least-

But, you-you

Instinctively, you pull the same fuzzy cardigan around you, clinging to it as though it were a barrier against him, and softly slide your hand from your sleeve, unveiling a lollipop—the only item you managed to pocket earlier.

And this should sweep everything away, right?

“Mhmmmm,” Jaehyun hums, back on trend —

acting like he didn’t just mention something that could spark a whole conversation...

— though this time he picks up the bat resting by the bedstand which at the beginning of the week tore through that heart piñata...

And currently, with the sun set, the moon in the sky, and the desert sky glowing a delicate lilac blue, his eyes narrow and his sly grin comes in the same old style as he twists the knob of the yellow lamp, teasing, “So... a thief, huh?”

...It’s as if he’s putting you in the spotlight, pointing out your crime, and calling you out for being a naughty girl.

& sure, he’s got you in that tight spot he wants you in, okay? But you still tilt your head and nibble on your lip, still going at it, “Maaybee.”

& as you start to walk backwards, everything is still beside your breath and the gentle thud of the bat as he taps it against different surfaces. Only muted noise of what seems to be Spanish drifts in from the neighboring room, but neither of you pays it much mind.

His hands fist around the bat tightly, consumed with angry adrenaline, & veins bulge along his smooth skin, sending filthy pulses up his arms.

It’s a sight that attracts goosebumps all along & across your skin, igniting a warmth that curls from your legs to your belly. The same very electrifying rush of adrenaline wraps around you as if he’s pulling you into the grip of that wooden bat...

Hiss, twist, loosen, and turn, just like how his hands manipulate that wood...

And you know... it doesn’t take much to find yourself backed up against that mahogany wall.

At once, ‘trapped’ takes on an even greater weight than what it meant before. You feel twisted and turned in advance, completely taken apart by the sheer passion in his deep brown eyes.

Jaehyun lifts a brow. He’s all about this vibe. That big toothy smile of his. The way he’s locked in on you. The ‘Just a couple of steps away, baby.’

Uh-huh, but what about that horrible, horrible crave you’ve told yourself you CAN’T have!??

The itch sits on your tongue, fruity in flavour—perhaps strawberry or raspberry—you aren’t sure. A tang that lingers in your memory, the same as of candy gum that had been in the air around him earlier and one which grew bolder with each step he took toward you. This sickness makes you wish that your tongue is already wrapped in his, tightening for a deeper inspection.

Yikes! Please, let’s just avoid that!

To drive away the feeling, you look down to your toes in the cotton carpet, shift your weight, and then peel away the wrapper of the lemon lolly, seeking a bitter flavor to replace the trace of his scent.

Then eventually, accept the proximity between you two as it is - as you let your back land against the wall, hoping the tension will melt away.

Feeling the lolly along your lips, you grimace at the acid but take it...

And as you look down, even in your peripheral view, it’s clear that Jaehyun is still watching you, & you realize he’s focused on your mouth. & after giving the lollipop a couple of spins on your tongue, you proudly look up, thinking you’re good and that you’ve totally neutralized the crave for him...

Because the suddenly too sure of itself face?

Your neck, your collars, the hard candy prodding at your cheek?

The sleek brown silk and the intricate black lace trim which ascends higher on your thigh as you shift your weight to one leg, elegantly placing the other in front as you find your stance? And then the glossy black polish on your toenails as you draw them from a point in the carpet, just barely hovering above it, & in a straight line with him... As in ???

Yeah, absolutely not; that’s far from a quiet invite...

No! You’re totally not just ‘asking for it.’

On the spur, the dynamics shift... As you let the lemon hang in your mouth, Jaehyun abruptly brings his bat up & uses it to delicately move a piece of your hair aside, and then the very tip of the bat makes a gentle tap at the heart of your collars.

Your breath catches in your throat, a fragile spectacle he zeroes in on as your cords constrict, and then, with knitted brows you swallow in the sour juice of the sucker.

Really!?? What more does he want of your sorry soul when you’re just trying to get through each breath?

But no! You certainly didn’t ask for it… Just remember he’s not one to give up when told to quit. So, either pack your things or choose a better design, Sugar.

Though that’s the very thing... You can’t deny the magnetic pull of Jaehyun’s game...

Sure, you’re feeling the heat from your toes to the top of your head, but let’s keep things in check, yeah?

Feeling the groove, as you pull out the lollipop to give your lips a little lick, your eyes wander down to what could be seen as a ‘dangerous tool’, and you smirk.

Jaehyun sucks in on his lip, very slowly, very cheekily. The guy’s clearly amused with you.

“Are you seriously just going to keep looking at me like that?” you ask eventually, taking a moment before adding, “I’m not a fan of it.”

“Mmmmm,” he gives his hundredth low hum, tilting his back head just so, & flexing that tight jawline that always seems to be up for something... something explicit and offensive.

However you pout and slide the lollipop right back in your mouth.

“Tasty?”

...You had to know that was coming, right? And so, as the duel continues, you shrug, allowing a slight grimace to escape your lips, piquing his curiosity about the taste he’s missing out on.

& it runs like a charm.

As Jaehyun lets his eyelids droop in the slowest blink imaginable, &, in his infamous deep voice, says, “I waaanna taste.”

Nuh-uh, even if you tried to reject, it wouldn’t make a difference since he’s right in your face; his mouth hanging agape, eager for absolutely, really absolutely! anything you might have to offer... Cause, there’s always room for a shift in sentiments, wouldn’t you agree?

Though the ‘weapon’ somewhat still stays pointed at you...

Take notes!

For sure! But being the fantastic person you are you tap into your generous spirit & pull out the candy with a satisfying pop while Jaehyun stares at you, mischief even spilling out of his open mouth.

With only inches between you, you gently slide the bad sugar in, pushing it along his tongue and unconditionally savoring the moment and the view.

His slightly downturned, sultry eyes as you still hold onto the other end of the white plastic, & he keeps sucking on the lemon in his mouth.

Those damn sunken cheeks of his. The tiny scratch on his nose from a few days ago which has mostly healed, but you can still see it.

The dense, dark brows in disagreement with his bleached hair with a still lingering odor of ammonium hydroxide... Really, a look born from a reckless bet on a chaotic road trip—a decision that seemed utterly foolish but now is somehow working in his favor...

In a way, it’s even funny how the flashy hair is soooo out there… but it’s there, being just one aspect of him. Still, you have to admit its impact is real. A gutsy choice that jazzes him up a notch. This new arc he’s projecting, where it seems, he’s flirting a bit more with his impulsive side? Yeah...

Somewhere between handsome and creamy tabby cat... He’s just bursting with the most obnoxious playfulness, and he’s paired with a smile that raises up his dimples.

The way he’s making you curious and wild >>> He’s so sexy, it’s unmatched...

And you understand the gravity of wanting such a fine man! The—

(!) The despite knowing, yet failing... or at least in what you think you know and what you think is better.

You’re completely focused on his lips, and in an instant, reality just seems to melt away like it’s under a spell.

Tis a state... A mood! The ninth cloud where you can’t feel the air or the ground... All there is is his insane eyes scrutinizing your reaction to what he does to the lolly, and it’s honestly the worst kind of pressure.

Finished savouring, Jaehyun’s tongue casually circles his sensuous lips, collecting all possible leftover like he’s just finished you in style.

“Ummm…” Scrunching his nose at the flirty, piquant taste, he takes a step back. Mulls over the candy choice; pushes his cooked bangs; and hesitates before he says, “Nah, this isn’t the one... I-um... I bet there’s something better out there... It’s likeee” suppresses smile in advance of saying it, “It’s just on the tip of my tongue.” His brows flatten too, mans serious! “Help me think?”

OH, Sir!

A treat that can out-beat this bittersweet taste? A goodie that packs an even bigger surprise?

Your always rambling mind goes thoughtless, & that burning need to press on drops off like a light switch. The coming panic. Your gotcha moment. You go quiet. It hits you that this is the first time your playful teasing has backfired and that maybe you can’t be bailed out of what’s to come.

Worse, as it’s one of those silences that just hangs in the air, making things feel more tense. Your self-imposed rules about ‘what you think you know’ and ‘what’s better’ dissolved, leaving you fully present and stimulated.

& Jaehyun digs right in, spreading the cavity...

He lifts the bat again, its tip gently pressing into your belly, and it’s like you can almost feel his warmth seep through it, then past the fragile silken fabric to your skin.

You get so hot. This bizarre ripple from your legs to your tummy as you tightrope between pleasure and unease, joy and hesitation... It’s like you two are finally on the same wavelength, knowing what the other is about to say before the words even come out.

A delicate crease develops between his bushy brows which deepens as he tenderly whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“Jae- don’t.” you murmur, your lips curving into a sorrowful pout as you gently shake your head ‘no.’

Needless to say, something nuanced only you and him know...

The result of everything that’s happened...

The ‘this whole trip has messed up the trajectory of our friendship.’

The reason why he chose to hang back today...

The tactics which kicked in since everyone piled into that Jeep truck this morning & sped away.

The from ‘getting schooled’ in all the board games to the countless Polaroids he let you snap of him, to that little “I’m sorry” hand peck he gave you that had you making the death stare, and the “Don’t ever try to do that again!”

The rude ‘skin-feeding’ masked behind the pretense of a ‘generous’ food provider.

And how you slipped past every move, pushed back, and resisted until he has put you up against this wall... and now ‘the-no-escape’.

Still and all- your pushback’s like a sport. Be afraid of what follows...

For Jaehyun gnaws into the very walls of your sensitivity as if sensuality were his chosen medium. Each deliberate motion of the bat becomes a brushstroke in the masterpiece of your downfall...

He glides it along the contours of your waist, teasingly skimming over your curves, trails it down your legs and inners, and even lifts the hem of your dress just enough to make your skin hurt in anticipation.

Then, it finds its way to your stomach yet again, as if to indicate something deep & unexpressed, before tracing a direct path up your sternum, sweeping along your collarbone until he’s made your cardigan slip down your arm, taking the delicate strap of your dress with it...

So much of ‘Jae, don’t,’ huh? Oh, sweetheart…

Certainly, the last thing you hope he avoids is the very thing Jaehyun does...

Trailing the bat along your jawline, ultimately he rests it under your chin... Something something about a ‘clear display of dominance.’ His insane eyes about render you completely motionless as he insists on glancing between your eyes and your lips the way one searches a dictionary for definitions. Again and Again... And then gravity happens...

In an instant, the bat slips from his grasp and tumbles to the floor, making you flinch as his lips finally find their way to your bare shoulder, where seems like he’s achieved something.

Oh, the bite-

An insidious heat stroke as you moan the most promiscuous hiss there is.

“Jaee, we shou—”

“Baby-”

Vibrationssssssssss...

It comes out even more whiny as he gets all of that word muffled against your neck. It roughly cuts into your focus, seeps into your ears, and goes straight to the wrong place.

The very last thing you feel yourself do is slide left against the wall, scraping for any last escape routes, but he just moves in sync with you.

Up to the moment he—

The sound of yearning?

Jaehyun’s palms slamming into the hardwood, spreading out like wings on either side of you, creating a cage of flesh. Brushing off the idea of consent, his hot body presses against yours.

With his hands up, that whimsical teddy bear tee yet again peels from his jeans. It constricts around his arm sleeves, flexing the impressive curve of his biceps. His veins, too, scrumptiously pushed in motivation: ‘All mine! You can’t outrun this, baby. I’m keeping you right where I want you.’

Really, the rest it’s all in your perception—either a trap or a safe spot.

A little motel inside a world of sand... you’ve never felt smaller than you do now with him towering over you—not literally, size in drive and ambition.

You watch yourself fade&wilt in his unsettlingly lazy eyes like Valentine’s flower petals from their vase falling onto the white desk dirtied with graphite from pencil shavings and candy wrappers.

It’s so desertly calm, that your nails accidentally strike a chord in tune as your hands casually fall past his belt buckle...

A beautiful melody that makes his dimples grow deeper, though he still tilts his head, frowning adorably as he perpetually continues to figure things out just for the sake of figuring things out...

Yeah?

Cos, what is the motive here? As your hands do settle gently at the hem of his jeans, fingers teasingly dipping into the softness of his navel?

Hook + Pull = Gravity.

Oh, man, do you make him feel insane things? Cause you’ve been on your guard for the whole day, some goals are hard!

Are you coming ahead of all his sneaky schemes? Are you a baddie too?

Cause now you’re just holding up a higher card like you’ve been doing in every game today. Maybe you... are... on top of your game... The candy of victory is better when it’s hard...

Gravity... Your lips inch closer.

Your slightly parted lips & that parched swallow might just give Blondie a hint of how desperately you want him to melt on your tongue. And you’re over worrying about it. You even yank at his necklace.

The way his hair falls over your lashes creates a delightful distraction as your noses nearly collide. And the best you can pretend in this intimacy is filthy, “I still haven’t forgiven you.”

“Ummmmm...”

On brand! Disturbingly sexy hum that flows like honey—a sugary glaze, coating your lips in a deliciously gooey way. You’re hit with the sting & the toxin even before Jaehyun has a chance to consider kissing you or taking any steps. He smiles, he’s just that awful...

“You will.”

Alas,

the abrupt grating noise of tires screeching to a stop cuts through the dull ambience outside. A lively group seems to spill out of the truck, loud and as if they’ve just been recharged. A voice you both instantly recognize calls out, saturated with sarcasm and clearly wanting to grab ‘someone’s’ ears.

“Greeat! We’ve just rolled into ‘Losers Place!’”

What a Dullass Bullshit Scenario... for Losers.

Jaehyun scoffs lightly, giving a flimsy half-eye roll, his lips pursed in a way that shows just how unimpressed he is with the moment... Inexplicable urgency drives his body into yours one last time, likely a final act of connection.

He hadn’t even had the chance to pin your hands above your head or hold your jaw in a way that would leave you feeling completely—

There was no pulling of hair, nor did you wrap your arms around his neck to-to—

Nor did your tongue map out the crossroads on his stomach...

Or—

Clear anger paints your temple, too, each line bearing frustration... Just there’s something about keeping it a secret that bodies the danger factor, making everything feel so much more smoky and intense.

& you pout as much, nudging your nose against his as to where you feel all deprived but electrified by simply- just- doing that, softly whispering against his lips, breath all drenched,

“Do you think they know?”

Girlie, Fuck! Do you know what you do to him?

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honeyangelkiwi · 1 year ago

Text

Lazy Sunday Morning | H.S.

Welcome to my tumblr debut and only bc my bestie said I should.

Plot: Harry wakes up needy

Sexual content: unprotected bed dancing, cockwarming, small breeding kink, 18+

Word count: 1.4k, just short and sweet

The sun was hardly peaking up past the horizon when Harry woke up. He didn’t want to open his eyes because of how exhausted he was. The week was a busy one and this was the one day he could sleep in without any interruptions. The pit of his stomach and the tingle in his thighs woke him though. He could feel how hard his cock was without having to look underneath the blankets that covered him and his girlfriend.

He laid naked, like he did every night, hating the thought of clothes restricting him in his own home and his own bed. However, his body temperature was rising rapidly and the small shift of his body to make himself more comfortable caused a small gasp to slip past his lips. Just the blanket moving slightly against is cock was enough to leave him breathless.

His girlfriend laid tucked into his side. He had an arm wrapped around her and her head was tucked into his chest. He could feel the small breaths of air leaving her lips. It would have been sweet, and he would have adored how cute she was when she slept, except he couldn’t. He couldn’t because those small puffs of air were hitting his nipples and it was driving him mad.

With a hard cock and nipples peaked he brought his head down to her neck. “Baby…” he whispered into her ear and turned slightly so his body was facing hers and he was no longer laying on his back. A deep groan escaped his lips when his cock brushed against her soft stomach.

She stirred a bit, but still was not completely awake. Harry brought his hand up to her face and pushed her hair away. “Baby, wake up, please.” He ends up moaning into her ear. He couldn’t help himself. He needed some kind of friction, and so he had started slowly rutting his hips against her to get some. His hand slides into her hair and he grips it a little too tightly when the head of his cock hits her belly button ring. The cold sensation of the metal felt like too much when he was so hard and so worked up this early.

He starts pressing deep kisses into her neck to keep coaxing her awake. Eventually, her eyes pop open and a slow smirk spreads across her face. “What’s gotten into you, love?” She questions him. He isn’t normally up at this hour on a sunday morning. “Need you, now.” He whimpers into her neck. He was still rutting his hips against her and moaning into her neck as he started sucking a bit harder to leave marks.

Both of them were still tired, but wanted nothing more than that lazy sunday morning sex they don’t have often. “Okay, babe.” She says into his mouth after she pulled his face out from her neck to kiss his lips. She looks into his eyes that lay low with dark lust and tiredness. They both have those lazy smiles on their faces as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips. There is no rush, just slow, languid movements as they savor the feeling they’re drowning in.

Never detaching his mouth from hers he rolls them over so he is hovering over her, keeping his weight on his forearms beside her head. He nestles himself between her legs and groans and how warm and slick her thighs are. “Fuck, baby. Were you dreaming about me? Dreaming about how well my cock fits inside of you?” He gasps out as he brings a hand down to grab his length and tease her. “Yeah, dreamt of how good you make me feel.”

Harry teases himself and her a little bit longer, running his tip between her folds and circling it around her clit. Small gasps and pleas fall from her lips. He looks down into her eyes as he finally pushes himself in, not stopping until there’s no room left inside of her. Pausing, he brings his mouth back down to hers before pulling out and slowly pushing back in. Her mouth parts and he takes the chance to dip his tongue in, exploring as if it was his first time.

He keeps the same slow and lazy pace. Pulling out and pushing back in with a rhythm that leaves them open mouthed against each other. The only sounds coming from them are small moans and gasps for breath as they move their bodies together to chase the high they both need. She brings her hands up to the nape of his neck, grasping at the hairs there tightly. “Harder, please baby. I need it harder.” Her question is answered quickly with a sharper thrust from Harry.

“You’re taking me so well, so early. God, I love how you feel in the morning. Gonna stay like this when we’re done. Not leaving until I’m ready.” He starts mumbling. He’s so lost in how good he feels and he keeps going.” Your pussy was made for me, baby girl. Can’t ever get enough of it.” His thrusts become deeper the more he talks. “Gonna want to wake up like this forever, gonna make you my wife.” A sharp shiver runs down her back and a breathy gasp falls from her lips at that testament.

He hikes her leg up around his waist a bit higher and the loud moan she lets out tells him he’s hitting her sweet spot. He doesn’t fuck into her any faster. He keeps his pace slow, but drills his hips deeper and harder. She can feel the tension building up into her stomach quickly now. “Please…” She gasps out, and Harry knows what she needs. He brings a hand down between them and starts softly rubbing circles into her clit.

She’s clenching around him uncontrollably now. He can feel how tight she’s getting. She’s squeezing his cock so hard that she’s almost pushing him out. His pace picks up now, thrusting into her faster now that the ball in the pit of his stomach is finally about to burst. His head is in her neck and he’s moaning and gasping for air. “Cum for me baby. I need you to cum right fucking now.” He groans and bites down into her neck.

Her mouth parts in a silent moan, unable to form words as her high barrels into her. Her hips and legs are shaking and her fingers are gripping his hair so tight she thinks she may begin to pull it out as she soaks his cock. He doesn’t stop though. He keeps thrusting into her and rubbing her clit until his own orgasm washes over him.

He slams in one more time and stills his hips inside of her. He pushes himself impossibly deep, wanting to feel her milk every last drop of cum he has for her. The moan that pushes past his mouth is pornographic. His cock twitches as rope after rope of cum spurts into her warm cunt and he shudders at the feeling.

Once they’ve both come down from their highs he pulls his face from her neck and smiles down looking into her bright eyes. “I’m still tired, baby.” He whispers as he lowers his lips to hers to peck them softly. “Me too, get off so we can go back to sleep.” She giggles into his mouth and brings her hands to his chest to push him off.

“No, I told you I was staying like this.” The smirk on his face widens before a cheeky smile pops up and dimples show. “Gonna keep my cock right here, nice and warm.” She raises an eyebrow, but can’t help the giddy feeling she has in her stomach. She’s not ready to feel empty yet. Holding on to her he rolls over so they’re laying on their sides and she has a leg draped over his waist.

She nestles her face into his neck and inhales the slight scent of sweat on his skin. “That’s fine with me, love having you inside of me.” She whispers as the tiredness starts to rapidly fall upon her. “Need to make sure you end up with a belly full of my babies.” He says and kisses her forehead before letting his eyes shut and sleep fall across them.

#harry #harrystyles #styles #fanfic #harry!smut #oneshot #harry styles #harry styles smut #smut #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot

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loliskywalker · 8 days ago

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Showing Love

James Kelly x Fem! Reader

Summary: Free from prison, but still bound to one undeniable truth: he needs to see her again. And he knows exactly where to find her — the bar where it all began... and maybe, where it could all begin again.

Words count: 1.4k

Author’s notes:

Big thanks to @moonlightkb for helping me develop this one-shot. love you babe 😉🩵

English is not my first language! I'm sorry if you have any mistakes or a word that doesn't match the context so much.

Feedbacks are welcome! I'd love to know what you thought of this one-shot.

Genre: angst + fluff

Dividers by @strangergraphics

In the summer, Los Angeles seemed to shine even more at sunset. The waves breaking on the horizon allowed us to breathe and reflect on the beauty of the city. It's that view that helps me relax at the end of each workday.

"Hey, are you coming later?" — I heard Jenna's voice behind me as I started putting my belongings into my bag.

"I don't think so, Jenn. I'm a bit tired and just wanted to rest a little."

"Then come relax with us! It'll be fun — we can drink and talk about the ridiculous outfit *you-know-who* wore today," said the brunette with a hopeful smile. "And you didn’t come last Thursday."

"Alright… Is it at 8 p.m.?"

"7:30 p.m. at Joe’s."

"Okay. I’ll stop by home to take a shower and meet you there."

After a long shower, a quick makeup session, and a slightly messy room caused by my indecision in choosing an outfit for no real reason, I left for the bar listening to music. I always liked getting ready to go out, so it was actually a pleasant moment.

The music echoed through the place, and the mix of warm and cool lights created an inviting atmosphere for a summer night. In the back, I spotted Jenn and Sarah talking animatedly.

"Look who finally showed up!" — said Sarah as I approached.

"Hey, Sarah!" — I greeted the blonde with a quick hug and did the same with Jenna. "How are you two? Have you ordered anything?"

"We’re good. We just ordered some beers. Here, take one."

In no time, we were immersed in laughter and gossip. What felt like just a few minutes quickly turned into hours. When I noticed it was almost time to leave, I decided to get a different drink.

"I’ll be right back, going to get a drink from Joe."

"Okay, we’ll wait for you so we can leave together."

"Hey Joe, can you make a Sex on the Beach for me?"

"Of course! So… how are things with James?"

"What do you mean, ‘how are things with James’? We’re not together anymore, Joe. Is he here?" — I asked, confused, since I hadn’t seen him since the last time I visited him in prison. That was months ago.

"He was here last Thursday. Said he’d been on a trip with his brother and stopped by to see if he could find you, but you didn’t come," he explained.

Trip with his brother.

Joe’s words made my whole body tense up and my breath caught in my throat. That simple phrase brought back something I had been trying to forget for a while. Thinking about him still hurt, because of how everything ended.

"I didn’t know he was back… from his trip." — I said, shaking my head slightly, trying to push those thoughts away. "But either way, it’s not my business. And honestly, I don’t want to see him again."

"Then I think you might have a hard time with that," Joe said, glancing toward the door just as it opened with the sound of the bell. "This one’s on the house," he added with a half-smile, handing me the drink before turning to finish washing glasses.

"Thanks, Joe," I said, taking a big sip and feeling the burn of the alcohol down my throat. That feeling took over me completely. Moments later, the seat next to me was occupied by the last person I ever expected to see. His scent reached me — the one that used to calm me now made me feel uneasy. Yet, there was still something about it that drew me in, inexplicably.

"James.”

"I was looking for you," he whispered, his breath unsteady, fingers nervously tapping on the counter.

"So I heard."

"You changed your hair… It looks nice," he said, drawing a dry laugh from me. As he turned to face me, our eyes met. His freshly cut dark hair gave him a more youthful look. His black shirt and dark blue flannel rolled up at the elbows, enhancing your forearm tattoo, along with his broad arms, contrasted with the intensity of his blue eyes, which now gleamed with an indescribable feeling.

"If that’s all you have to say, I’m leaving," I said, standing up and pushing the stool back into place.

"I missed you. I still do."

"James, stop."

"I’m being serious. Can we talk?"

"I don’t think we have anything left to say. You made it pretty clear months ago what you wanted and what you thought," I replied, walking away toward where my friends were.

"Are you okay? Did he bother you?" — Jenna asked, noticing my discomfort.

"I’m fine. I just want to go home." — We paid the bill and headed for the exit.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, girls." — I said goodbye to Sarah and Jenna, then walked to my car, which was parked a little farther away in the lot. But it seemed like, out of nowhere, my night decided to turn upside down — my car wouldn’t start no matter what.

I sighed as I realized it was no use. The exhaustion and alcohol made me rest my forehead on the steering wheel. I got out to see if I could figure out what was wrong, opened the hood, and fiddled with a few parts I thought might be the issue. I left the hood open and got back inside to try again. The engine still made weird noises, but finally, it started.

I stepped out to close the hood and heard footsteps mixing with the sound of the car.

"From the noise, it sounds like the belt."

"I’ll take it to get checked tomorrow. Don’t worry about it," I replied, trying to ignore his presence.

"I could take a look for you."

"Can we not do this?" — I asked, turning to face James, who looked pale and tired, tension heavy on his shoulders.

"Do what?" — He cleared his throat, as if trying to say something he couldn’t.

"This," I said, gesturing between us. "You don’t get to say you miss me. Not after you pushed me away. Not after you left me waiting for hours. After I went to the prison to see you and you never showed up."

"I’m sorry. Look, can we please talk?" — His eyes shimmered as he stepped closer, his jaw tense and hands clenched at his sides.

"I don’t think we should. It’ll only bring more pain," I said, crossing my arms as a cold breeze hit me. I stepped back and reached for the door handle, looking at him again. "It’s too late."

"I love you."

Those three words made me freeze.

"I love you. And I know I don’t deserve you. Not after everything. But for once, I want to be selfish. Because the pain of losing you doesn’t go away. I let myself live without you, but I can’t anymore," — he shook his head slightly, closing his eyes as if the thought crushed him — "the idea of not having you… of seeing you with someone else… it suffocates me," he finished, his voice low and strained.

He stepped even closer, just one pace away from me.

"I want to be the one who makes you feel loved. I want to be the first face you see in the morning. To play the piano for you while you drink cheap wine before bed," he murmured, closing the space between us. "I want to be worthy of being by your side. I’ll do anything for that — just let me love you one more time."

His words made my heart race in a way I’d never felt before. His lips hovered inches from mine. I tried to think clearly, but gave in. I kissed him like never before. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe our conflicting emotions. The bittersweet taste of his lips mixed with tobacco and the weight of everything between us hit hard. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me like he couldn’t believe it was real, while my hands found their way to his neck.

When we couldn’t breathe anymore, we pulled back just enough to press our foreheads together. I felt the cold metal at my back. His right hand cupped my face, and in a reflex, I leaned in and kissed him again. Slower this time, but still intense — pouring everything I felt into that moment.

My love for him had never left. It was wounded, yes, but still alive. Love can be given by anyone, but being truly loved — that’s something different. And in James, I once felt that. And I have no doubt I can — and want to — feel it again.

hope u like it! thank u for reading 🫶🏻 And feel free to comment on what you thought of the one-shot

MASTERLIST

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen characters #james kelly x reader #james kelly #james kelly x female reader #james kelly x you #loli’s one-shot #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #loli’s moots #hayden christensen imagines #James Kelly one-shot #anakin skywalker #star wars

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misshoneyimhome · 1 month ago

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What's up buttercups ♥️

We’ve made it—this is the final chapter of the series 😊 And I hope it’s brought you joy, tension, chaos, and all the closeness your heart craved. Though, while this may be the end… I won’t lie, a cheeky Chapter 20 epilogue might still be on the horizon. I mean—it’s Christmas (in the story), and who could resist one last gift? 😉🎁

So, feel free to drop your wildest wishes and softest dreams in the comments, darlings ♥️ And as always, happy reading!

P.S. Massive thanks to @tonyspep for sparking the idea behind that steamy moment with our favourite duo 🔥

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, language, Smut 18+: handcuffs, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, cum inside, oral sex (f receiving), more unprotected vaginal sex, and yes, finally, more cum inside (what can I say, I want that Auston juice)

Word count: 9.1k Chapter one ; Chapter two ; Chapter three ; Chapter four ; Chapter five ; Chapter six ; Chapter seven ; Chapter eight ; Chapter nine; Chapter ten; Chapter eleven; Chapter twelve; Chapter thirteen ; Chapter fourteen; Chapter fifteen; Chapter sixteen; Chapter seventeen ; Chapter eighteen

Some who might have interest: @hockeybabe87 @tonyspep @thesecretestblogever @delayed-delusions @kurlyteuvo @emsdevs

➼｡ﾟ

Chapter nineteen: The Benchwarmer*

Wednesday -

The soft buzz of your phone stirred you awake before the winter sun had even cracked through the curtains.

You blinked clearly, one arm still tangled in the duvet, the other groping blindly toward your nightstand. The screen lit up your face with a low glow as you rolled onto your side.

Auston: Missed your face. Even half-asleep. Two more days, babe.

Auston: Also, dreamt you were chirping me for my bedhead again. Woke up offended.

You snorted into your pillow, the sound half-sigh, half-swoon. Sleep was already dissolving from your limbs, replaced with a warmth that had nothing to do with the heating in your flat.

Two more days.

It had only been a short road stint—Pittsburgh, then Jersey—but you missed him more than you’d expected. You talked every day. Facetimed every night. Sent stupid pictures, voice notes, playlists, screenshots of memes that reminded you of each other.

You felt sixteen again. Like this was all brand new. Like he hadn’t already seen you cry, yell, unravel. Like none of the damage had happened.

But it had. And somehow, it still felt like something whole had been rebuilt from the wreckage.

You pulled your phone closer to your chest, stared at the screen a moment longer before typing.

You: I only chirp because your bedhead looks like a hockey helmet exploded.

You: Miss you too. Come home soon.

You: P.S. tell Willy he’s not allowed to steal your phone anymore and leave that many typos.

A reply came almost immediately.

Auston: That was literally one time. And I let him because he bribed me with Swedish chocolate. You’d have folded too.

You grinned. Rolled onto your back and let the ceiling fan spin above you in slow, lazy circles.

Everything felt weirdly… good. Like the air had finally cleared. Like you’d climbed out of some emotional foxhole and found sunlight again. Auston was texting you good morning and goodnight. Jess was staying over on weeknights just to hang out. The WAGs weren’t glaring daggers in your direction. Mr. Manion had even stopped side-eyeing you in meetings.

And The Benchwarmer?

Silent.

No new posts. No snide tweets. No grainy surveillance shots lurking in corners of the internet. It was like they’d vanished with the last of November’s rain.

You thought about it sometimes—how quiet it had gone. But mostly, you didn’t care. Not now.

Let them watch, if they were still watching. You were done living like the glass could shatter at any second.

Your phone buzzed again.

Auston: Practice in twenty. Gotta run. But call me later, yeah? Want to hear that sleepy voice again.

You: You’re obsessed.

Auston: Painfully.

You were still smiling when Jess wandered out of the bathroom, made a quick stop by the kitchen before coming over to you, a mug of coffee in each hand and a raised eyebrow aimed directly at you.

“Well, well, well,” she said, voice raspy with sleep. “Looks like someone’s getting their serotonin served fresh and daily.”

You reached for the mug she held out. “Shut up.”

“No seriously,” she said, crawling up the bed like she owned it and flopping beside you. “You’ve got that look. The ‘I just got railed in a dream and now I’m texting him like it wasn’t weird’ look.”

You choked on your coffee. “Jessica.”

“What?” she grinned. “I know the signs. Blissed out. Eyes sparkly. That little secret smile. Honestly, I’m just glad it’s him and not some emotionally unavailable barista named Milo or something.”

You laughed. “Why Milo?”

“I dunno. Feels like the type who’d ghost after making you an oat milk flat white and whispering that you ‘smell like spring heartbreak.’”

You snorted again, leaning your head back against the headboard. “No Milos here. Just Auston. And me. And… whatever this is.”

Jess’s expression softened. She nudged your leg with her knee. “Whatever it is, it looks good on you.”

You glanced back down at your phone. The screen was dark now, but the words from earlier still lingered in your mind.

Painfully.

You hadn’t expected this. Not really. Not after everything. But you also weren’t going to waste time doubting it.

Instead, you took a long sip of coffee, then looked at Jess. “We’re going on a real date when he’s back.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh shit. Like a real real one?”

“Yep,” you nodded. “Fancy outfit. Nervous energy. Actual table reservation. The whole deal.”

Jess beamed. “God, I love a redemption arc.”

You laughed, heart light, body warm, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

Maybe you were in one.

And maybe—for once—you weren’t just playing the part.

The bell above the café door chimed as you stepped inside, and for a second, you debated turning right back around.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t welcomed you back. The WAGs had seen the kiss. The kiss. You and Auston, wrapped around each other in the locker room like nobody else existed. There had been witnesses. There had been side-eyes. But no one had walked away.

Still, the nerves clung to your skin like static.

Jess brushed past you, giving your elbow a squeeze as she did. Naturally, she’d come along as moral support. “Relax,” she murmured under her breath. “You’re not walking into a courtroom.”

“No,” you muttered back, “just a table full of people I emotionally betrayed and lied to for two months.”

“Semantics,” she said, grinning.

The glamorous café was all glass windows and exposed brick, warm light filtering in through half-fogged panes. The smell of espresso and burnt caramel lingered in the air. A table in the corner was already half full—Aryne, Stephanie, Sanna, Tessa, Estelle—all mid-sip and conversation.

Aryne looked up first. Her eyes met yours. She curved a light smile.

You swallowed hard.

Then she lifted her coffee and tilted it in a silent toast. “Look who finally decided to join us.”

“Was fashionably late,” Jess cut in, sliding into a chair like she owned the place. “Obviously.”

Stephanie waved toward the open seats. “Sit. Before we start gossiping without you.”

You slid into your chair, pulse still elevated, but your shoulders loosened a little when Tessa leaned over and offered you a mimosa without a word.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

She just winked. “You’re gonna need it.”

And within minutes, conversations resumed like they had never paused. It wasn’t quite normal—but it wasn’t cold. It was like standing at the edge of a hot tub, acclimating slowly to the heat. There was laughter. A little teasing. Sanna passed you the butter with a soft smile that said: we’re not pretending, but we’re trying.

You sipped your drink, eyes darting between the group as they caught up on wedding plans and team travel rumours. Jess had already begun charming her way into the circle, leaning into the conversation like she’d slays been a part of the group. Her laugh was easy. Her presence warm.

It wasn’t until Estelle cleared her throat that the air shifted.

“So,” she said, setting her coffee down with a careful clink. “Are we going to talk about it?”

You blinked. “Talk about what?”

Stephanie leaned back, lips quirking. “The locker room kiss.”

Tessa grinned over the rim of her glass. “We need details. Was that post-concussion euphoria or…?”

“It wasn’t—I mean, he wasn’t concussed,” you said quickly, flushing. “He was… aware.”

“Mm-hmm,” Aryne hummed. “And you?”

You paused. Heart thudding.

Jess gave you a knowing look, daring you.

You exhaled. “Alright… my name is y/n, and I’m in love with Auston Matthews.”

The words fell like a feather—and hit like a brick.

The table went quiet for half a breath, and then erupted with ‘ooohhh’s.

“Finally,” Stephanie groaned.

“Oh, thank God,” Estelle muttered.

Tessa pretended to wipe a tear. “We have growth.”

You laughed, the tension in your chest splintering like sugar glass. Aryne was the only one who didn’t react at first. She just looked at you, eyes a little soft now. A little proud.

“I knew you were,” she said quietly. “Just didn’t think you knew.”

You blinked. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Conversation flowed easier after that. The teasing softened into something fond. You were no longer the girl on the outside. Not the liar. Not the story. Just another woman with a messy heart and the courage to say it out loud.

It felt like a beginning.

And then midway through your second mimosa, Stephanie suddenly turned to Jess. “Okay, your turn.”

Jess blinked. “My turn for what?”

“Your mystery man, of course,” Sanna grinned.

Jess raised her brows. “What mystery man?”

“Oh, there’s a rumour going around that a certain player’s been asking about you,” Tessa leaned in.

Jess rolled her eyes. “There are a lot of players. I think we should be more specific.”

“Big guy. Right wing. Starts with a W,” Stephanie said sing-song.

Jess’s ears flushed pink. She looked down at her napkin, suddenly far too interested in folding it.

Aryne squinted. “Wait… you don’t mean—”

Jess cut in quickly. “I’m not interested.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Stephanie said. “But he clearly is.”

There was a pause. You watched Jess, curious. She shrugged and reached for her phone, tapping at the screen to avoid the attention. But then something changed—her posture stiffened ever so slightly. Her fingers paused on the screen, her eyes narrowing at something in her messages.

It was quick. A flicker. But you caught it.

“What is it?” you asked gently.

Jess blinked and shook her head. “Nothing. Just work stuff.”

You didn’t press. But your gut whispered something else. Because it wasn’t the look of someone bothered by work. It was the look of someone reading something she didn’t expect.

It was almost dusk by the time you finally called her.

You sat curled in the corner of your couch, knees drawn up beneath an old hoodie, the half-melted candle on the coffee table flickering between citrus and smoke. Your phone rang twice before she picked up.

“Hello?”

Her voice was clipped, as always. Polished. Like she’d rehearsed being unimpressed.

“Hi, Mum,” you said.

There was a moment of pause., “I wasn’t sure if you’d call this week. You’ve been… busy.”

You winced. “Yeah. Things have been… a lot.”

“Hm.” A rustle of fabric on the other end. She was probably folding laundry or wiping down a spotless counter, still multitasking even while emotionally withholding. “I saw the video.”

Your stomach dipped. “Oh.”

“The one from the game,” she clarified. “Where he got hit. And you ran.”

“Oh,” you said again, softer this time. She didn’t ask how Auston was. Didn’t ask how you were either. She never did. “It was… dramatic. Even for you.”

You breathed out a dry laugh. “Yeah. I guess it was.”

Another pause. Then a shift in tone—still cool, but slower now. Almost thoughtful. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you care about something that wasn’t your job.”

You froze for a second. It wasn’t a compliment. Not exactly. But it wasn’t a critique either.

“I’ve always cared,” you said, quieter than you meant to. “Maybe not in ways you wanted me to.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t care,” she replied, and for once, she didn’t sound annoyed. Just tired. “I said you never made room for anything else.”

You looked at the candlelight wavering beside you. “I think I got tired of fighting for something that didn’t fight back.”

“Work?”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see. “Yeah.”

“Well,” she said, voice softening so slightly you almost missed it, “people don’t give you trophies for loving someone. But they should.”

You sat with that. It wasn’t I’m proud of you. It wasn’t I’m happy for you. But it was something. A thread. A whisper of grace in her voice that you hadn’t heard in a long time—maybe ever.

“I’m trying,” you said.

“I know.”

You closed your eyes, holding the silence like a fragile thing between your palms.

Then she cleared her throat. “Your sisters say hello.”

You smiled faintly. “Tell them I say hi.”

“I will.”

There was a moment a silence.

“You’ll let us know how things go?” she then continued. Not a demand. Just a simple question. A tiny, tentative olive branch.

“Yeah. I will.”

“Alright, then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mum.”

The call ended and the room suddenly felt quieter in its wake.

You set the phone down, your chest loose in a way it hadn’t been in weeks. It still hurt, in that deep-bone, childhood kind of way. But you didn’t feel angry. You felt seen. And maybe that was enough for now.

Thursday -

The office was grey.

Not just the walls—though they were painted in that corporate slate that felt like an apology for colour—but the air itself. The lights buzzed overhead with the soft hum of disinterest, monitors glowed with half-read emails, and the heat from the vent didn’t quite reach your corner of the floor.

You sat at your desk, cursor blinking in time with your heartbeat, your screen filled with placeholder text for a mid-season sponsor recap. A content calendar blinked behind it. Three drafts due by Friday. You’d done two this morning. All technically fine. Sharp sentences. Clean tone. Buzzword-laced and forgettable.

Your fingers hovered over the keys. Then stalled.

You leaned back in your chair and looked around the office. Everyone moved like machines—quiet and efficient with their heads down. A team of people running the PR engine for one of the loudest teams in the league. A few months ago, you would’ve been proud of that. You would’ve straightened your shoulders and taken the next brief with a smile. Pushed yourself harder. Gone above and beyond.

But not now.

Now, it just felt… quiet.

Not the peaceful kind. The hollow kind.

You turned back to your screen. Read the first paragraph of the copy again. You’d written it in ten minutes, and it read like it. Sharp enough to get through approval. Polished enough to pass.

But there was nothing behind it. No spark. No thrill. No little voice whispering this matters.

You rested your chin in your hand and exhaled slowly.

This used to be your dream. Not just the job, but the whole arc—the respect, the profile, the rising power of it all. You’d wanted to be the woman who could walk into a boardroom in heels and own every word she spoke. And for a while, you’d been her.

You were still her. Sort of.

But somewhere between the fake relationship, the scandal, the confession in a locker room and the way Auston kissed you like he meant it—you’d changed.

Or maybe you’d just finally told the truth.

You didn’t want to be a headline anymore. You didn’t want to chase perfect phrasing and client praise and metrics on engagement. You didn’t want to craft stories for people who couldn’t look you in the eye when things went south.

You wanted to write for yourself again. You wanted slow mornings and something warm on the stove. You wanted to work hard, sure—but for something that didn’t cost you peace. Something you could walk away from at the end of the day and still recognise yourself in the mirror.

You wanted softness. Stillness. Space to breathe.

You wanted love.

And for the first time, you weren’t ashamed to want that more than success.

You clicked out of the document. Saved the file. Took a sip of the coffee on your desk—it had gone cold an hour ago, bitter and thin.

Then, quietly, you opened your calendar and blocked out an hour at lunch next week. Just one. You titled it:

Career Strategy – Personal

Nothing dramatic. Nothing rushed. Just a reminder that you’d finish the season. You’d keep your head down, do the work, ride out the storm with quiet grace.

But after that? You were done.

Done chasing a version of yourself that looked impressive but felt hollow. Done sacrificing nights and feelings and family just to say you’d made it.

Because you’d made it. And now, you were letting it go.

You sat back, staring at the calendar invite. Your heart was still. Not racing. Not heavy.

Just… still.

And in that stillness, you felt something like peace. You didn’t need to be the best anymore. You just needed to be whole.

Friday -

Friday night came just in time.

Maybe it was the rush of work or the way the week blurred by in a haze of coffee, emails, and soft texts from Auston that made your heart race every time your phone lit up. Maybe it was because, deep down, some part of you was afraid it would fall apart before it ever started.

But it hadn’t. Not this time.

You stood barefoot in your apartment, staring at the small collection of outfits Jess had laid out on your bed. She stood beside you, arms crossed, mascara wand in one hand, her expression somewhere between stylist and drill sergeant.

“The black dress says, ‘take me seriously.’ The green says, ‘I’m emotionally available.’ The red says—”

“Trouble,” you finished, smiling.

Jess grinned. “Exactly. Which is also the vibe you’re giving off right now, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the green. “He’s already seen me in red. Half-naked. Screaming at him in a parking garage.”

Jess laughed. “Then we definitely pivot to emotionally available.”

The next hour passed in the kind of chaos that made you nostalgic for pre-party high school nights—curling irons whirring, highlighter dust in the air, the scent of dry shampoo and nerves. Jess moved through your space with the casual confidence of someone who knew exactly how to make you feel beautiful.

“Breathe,” she said, hands in your hair. “You’ve already got him. Now you just get to enjoy it.”

You exhaled, steadying yourself in the mirror. “Do I look okay?”

She stepped back, studied you, and smiled. “You look like someone who’s about to ruin his life. In the best way.”

You laughed, heart hammering in your chest. Then you slipped into your coat, kissed her on the cheek, and walked out the door.

The city air bit at your cheeks as you stepped outside, heart pounding beneath your coat. A gust of December wind caught your hair just as you climbed into the Uber, cheeks flushed—not from the cold, but from what waited on the other side of the night.

By the time you arrived, the world outside had settled into that Friday-night rhythm: muffled conversations, golden lamplight pouring across the pavement, couples ducking into warm restaurants with laughter clinging to their coats.

You stepped into the place Auston had chosen—elegant, but not intimidating. It smelled like rosemary and wine and fresh bread, like something safe and thoughtful. Like someone had taken time to pick it. And that alone nearly undid you.

Then you saw him.

He sat near a table tucked into the back corner, jacket off, sleeves rolled neatly, hands shoved into his trouser pockets like he hadn’t quite figured out what to do with them. And when his eyes found you, everything else in the restaurant seemed to blur.

He didn’t smile right away. He just… stared.

“Hi,” you said softly, slipping toward the table.

There was a split second of silence.

“Holy shit.”

You blinked. “That’s your opener?”

Auston shook himself a little, like waking from a dream, and gave you a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I meant wow… but my brain short-circuited.”

You slid into the seat across from him. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Matthews.”

“I ironed my shirt and everything,” he said, mock-offended. “Didn’t even ask my mom to do it.”

“How heroic.”

Then the waiter appeared—Auston recovered just enough to order a bottle of wine, though he fumbled the vintage and ended up saying, “Whatever she wants,” with a lopsided grin.

And when the drinks arrived, he lifted his glass. “To real first dates.”

You clinked softly. “To not needing a PR plan to kiss you.”

He took a sip before he offered a soft smirk. “Although, for the record, I was excellent at planning those kisses.”

You sipped your wine too. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrected, leaning forward. “So… What are we talking about tonight? Sports? Politics? My devastatingly handsome dog?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean my emotional support dog, Felix?”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Wow. First date and already stealing custody?”

“Just trying to find out what I’d get in the divorce,” you smiled.

“Too late,” he said. “You’re stuck with me.”

The banter was easy—familiarly sharp, lovingly annoying. You talked about stupid things at first: your Uber driver’s playlist, William’s latest ‘casual’ outfit that cost more than your rent, Jess trying to set her sister up with an Italian wine guy who turned out to be allergic to grapes.

But somewhere between the starters and the mains, something in the air shifted.

Auston casually leaned back slightly, his thumb tracing the stem of his wine glass. “Can I ask you something a bit… deeper?”

You nodded.

“What do you actually want? Not just tonight. But… after. From life.”

The question hit like a soft punch, causing you to swallow, setting your fork down.

“I used to think I knew,” you said. “Climbing ladders. Nailing campaigns. Being the girl who had her shit together.”

“And now?”

You looked down, then up. “Now I want something quieter. Someone to come home to. Less chaos. More… meaningful.”

His expression softened. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I used to think it was.”

Auston nodded, quiet for a moment. before he continued, “I used to think love had to be loud and dramatic. Something that made you bleed to know it mattered. But you… you make it feel as easy as breathing. Like I didn’t even realise how much noise I was used to until you walked in and everything went calm.”

There was a moment where you both simply allowed the silence to fill the space between you. Where your met and your breathings slowed down a bit.

“Are you trying to ruin me, Matthews?” You said softly with a gentle smile.

His grin was crooked, a little shy. “Maybe.”

You both sat there, smiling like idiots, the kind of smiles that made your cheeks ache. You didn’t say it out loud, but you both felt it:

Something had shifted.

And this time, it wasn’t for the cameras.

It was for you. It was real.

The ride home was quiet, but not silent. Auston’s hand found yours across the seat, his thumb brushing gentle arcs against your knuckles as the city passed by in a blur of lights and December chill. Every few seconds, he looked at you—like he couldn’t help it. Like he was trying to memorise this version of you: soft, open, warm from wine.

And by the time the car pulled up in front of your building, neither of you moved right away.

The engine ticked softly as it cooled. Outside, the streetlight cast pale gold shadows through the windshield, tracing the lines of Auston’s jaw, the slope of his nose, the curve of his mouth—a mix of soft and serious.

Your hand was still in his, resting on the centre console. He hadn’t let go since the restaurant.

Silence settled in like a held breath, as you glanced over. “Well. That was… something.”

Auston smiled faintly. “Yeah. Kind of felt like a real date or something.”

You laughed softly, but your chest felt tight with something more. Nervous yet hopeful. Like you didn’t want this to end—not yet at least.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles again, slow, and thoughtful. “I should probably let you get some sleep.”

“Probably,” you said, though you made no move to reach for the door.

He then shifted slightly, turning toward you more fully. His eyes found yours, deep and warm and unreadable. “This was really nice.”

“It was more than nice Auston,” you whispered.

He hesitated for just a second, but then—very slowly—leaned in.

And you met him halfway.

The kiss was soft. Careful. A whisper of a thing at first, like both of you were afraid too much pressure would break it. His lips pressed to yours, and for a moment it felt like time simply stopped. No game. No spotlight. No scandal. Just him. Just you. And the stillness of a December night.

But then something cracked open.

The kiss gradually deepened, hungry but not rushed. His hand came up to cup your jaw, fingers threading into your hair. Your mouth opened to his, and he kissed you like he’d been waiting all night. All week. Maybe longer.

And when you finally pulled back, breath caught in your throat, his eyes stayed closed for a beat longer than yours.

He rested his forehead against yours. His breath was warm against your lips. “Goodnight,” he said, voice rough—like the word hurt to say.

You let out a soft laugh. “That’s it?”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. “If I don’t say goodnight now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to let you leave.”

You could still feel the shape of his kiss on your lips, like an imprint pressed into your skin. The space between you was too small to be innocent, too charged to ignore. Your heart thudded hard against your ribs.

“Maybe I don’t want to leave,” you whispered.

He pulled back just enough to look at you properly. Eyes searching and waiting.

“Aus,” you said, softer now. “You want to come up?”

His gaze held yours for a second longer as he smiled, “never thought you’d ask.”

The lift ride was short—but charged like live wire.

You leaned against the brushed metal wall, your pulse echoing in your ears. Auston stood inches from you, hands in his coat pockets like restraint was the only thing holding him together. His eyes never left yours. That lazy, hungry look.

There was heat in the air between you—unspoken, unhurried. Not a race to the finish, but a slow, sweet burn. You could feel it in the press of your thighs, in the hollow of your throat, in the way neither of you touched but every part of you wanted to.

And when the lift dinged, the sound was almost jarring.

You walked ahead, heartbeat in your mouth, keys trembling slightly in your hand. The hallway felt long, like it was stretching time on purpose. A final tease before the fall.

Then the lock turned. The door opened. You stepped inside.

The sound of your keys dropping onto the counter barely cut through the tension.

And the moment the door clicked shut behind him, his hands found your waist like instinct. He pulled you in gently, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed. His lips met yours again—slow, reverent, a quiet exhale of a kiss.

You kissed him back just as softly. Until you didn’t. Until something once again snapped.

You pushed him back a step, your breath catching, fingertips fumbling with the buttons of his jacket as heat bloomed under your skin.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he whispered, voice rough with want, eyes trailing down your face to your chest, to your hands working quickly. “You drive me so fucking insane.”

You smiled against his throat as his coat hit the floor. Swiftly followed by his shirt. Then your coat and dress—the sleeves slipping from your shoulders like they’d been waiting all night for permission. You let it fall between you, and his eyes darkened.

He touched you like you were something delicate and dangerous all at once. His fingertips grazed your waist, your ribs, up to the lace of your bra, but didn’t unhook it. Not yet.

Instead, you took the lead.

You walked him backward through the apartment, every step a new brush of skin against skin. Your touch was confident and teasing—guiding him with hands at his chest, his belt buckle, the waistband of his trousers. Socks were lost somewhere between the hallway and your bed. His belt clattered against the floor. Discarded clothes forming a path. Your knickers were the final piece—tossed aside without fanfare, like gravity had grown tired of waiting.

He cursed under his breath as he felt your skin against his.

But you didn’t stop kissing. Not even as you fumbled together. Not even as you hit the edge of the bed, stumbled slightly, caught yourself with a laugh.

The sound barely had time to escape before it was swallowed by his mouth.

He lied back onto the mattress with a soft grunt, and you straddled him immediately. But then, you paused, and your eyes glinted in the low light.

“Remember the handcuffs you introduced me to?”

His grin broke through the haze. “The ones I used on you?”

You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his jaw. “Payback time.”

He let out a low, disbelieving laugh—deep, dark, hungry. “Yes, boss.”

With sensual movements, you pulled open the bedside drawer and retrieved a pair of black furry cuffs - a gag gift from a friend once, barely taken seriously. Until now.

And Auston didn’t resist. He just raised his arms above his head, letting you snap the cuffs around his wrists and secure them to the headboard.

“You trust me?” you asked softly, eyes locked on his.

He nodded. “With everything.”

And just like that, the world slowed.

You kissed him again, but this time with purpose—starting at his mouth, then the corner of his jaw, then down to the warm skin of his bearded throat. He tilted his head back slightly, offering more, breathing harder with every inch your mouth travelled. You followed the line of his collarbone with your tongue, dragged your lips across the slope of his tattooed chest, your teeth grazing just enough to make him gasp.

Your kisses trailed down his torso—slow, methodical, and reverent. You licked along the dip between his abs, sucked gently at the skin just above his hip bone, and smiled when you felt his muscles twitch beneath your mouth. He was already getting hard, already waiting for you.

You pressed a kiss to the base of his cock, then looked up—his eyes dark and heavy, wrists tense in the cuffs above his head, chest rising fast.

“You’re fucking cruel,” he muttered, voice thick.

You dragged your nails lightly down his ribs just to hear him hiss. “Am I?” you murmured, kissing the tip of his cock, your breath warm against him. “You’re the one who taught me this.”

He laughed—strained and hoarse. “I liked it better when it was the other way around.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you just flattened your tongue along the length of him—slow and deliberate. His groan rumbled in his chest, legs tensing as your hand wrapped firmly around the base. You took him into your mouth inch by inch, cheeks hollowed, lips tight, drawing out each pass like a dare.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned again, breathless. “You’re really going to do this to me?”

You glanced up, lips brushing the head of his cock. “What, this?”

Your pace gradually quickened—then slowed again. You built him up only to pull back at the edge, teasing him with every flick of your tongue, every tightened grip. His hips twitched upward, instinctive, but you placed a hand flat on his thigh to still him.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t touch. Could only feel.

And you knew he felt everything.

You kept him right there—on the edge, moaning your name like a prayer he wasn’t sure he deserved to finish. His hands clenched in the restraints, chest glistening with sweat, body taut with restraint. He was unravelling beneath you, and you smiled against his skin.

“A little desperate, are we?” you teased, your breath hot against his sensitive shaft.

“Please,” he growled. “Let me touch you, baby.”

Releasing him from your touch, you then gently climbed up his body again, kissing along his chest, over his collarbone, your fingers trailing behind your lips. He was burning up beneath you as you paused, hovering over his mouth, your eyes flickering over his face—so open, so wrecked.

“Not yet,” you whispered.

Then, gently, you straddled him. Guided him to your entrance, and the moment his head breached your opening, both of you sucked in a breath.

You sank down inch by inch, feeling every stretch, every dizzying wave of fullness until he was buried completely inside you. You gasped at the pressure; at the way he filled you so perfectly.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes locked on yours, his voice cracking under the weight of it.

You moved slowly at first. Grinding your hips in deep, delicious circles. He moaned helplessly beneath you, hips rocking up, eyes fluttering closed, jaw clenched tight.

His arms strained in the cuffs, his fingers twitching. Oh yes, you had him undone. Completely.

And you loved it.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his. “You give me so much power,” you whispered, rolling your hips again, harder this time. “And you don’t even flinch.”

“Only because I want you to have it,” he whispered back. “All of it.”

The words punched through your chest like lightning.

That’s when you knew—this wasn’t just sex. This wasn’t just lust or power or pleasure. This was trust.

So, you rocked faster, chasing the edge for both of you. Your palms pressed to his chest, feeling the wild beat of his heart. His moans filled the room like there was no performative restraint here. No masks.

Only you. Only him. Everything you were finally allowing yourselves to feel.

And finally, when you felt the orgasm begin to build, the knot in your lower; when you couldn’t take it anymore—when the ache between your thighs blurred into something urgent and shaking and begging—you reached for the cuffs.

Your fingers fumbled, slick with sweat, heart thudding as you unlocked one, then the other.

And the moment the metal clicked free, Auston surged.

He didn’t pause. Didn’t hesitate. His mouth crashed into yours—fierce and unforgiving, all heat and hunger and gratitude. Like he needed to taste every second he’d spent waiting. His hands seized your hips, and then, with almost dizzying ease, he flipped you beneath him. The shift in power was immediate, almost electric.

He pinned your wrists above your head, fingers laced tight, his body caging yours.

“My turn,” he murmured, voice low and ragged with need.

Then he thrust. Hard and deep.

The breath punched out of you in a choked cry as your back arched off the mattress, your legs instinctively locking around his waist. Again. Again. Each stroke sharper, rougher—like he was trying to bury himself in you completely. Like he needed to leave a mark not just on your body, but on your soul.

His grip tightened around your wrists, grounding you while the bedframe slammed rhythmically against the wall, a percussion of chaos and want. His name tumbled from your lips, broken and wild.

He kissed your throat, your jaw, the soft dip beneath your collarbone—mouth greedy, almost worshipful. His teeth grazed your skin. His tongue soothed it. He was everywhere at once, inside and out, and you were coming undone beneath him.

And like every other time, you shattered first—your orgasm ripping through you like a lightning strike. Your whole body tensed, thighs trembling, breath caught as you sobbed his name. He made sure of that. And you barely had time to come down before he angled his hips, adjusted his grip—and hit that perfect spot again. And again.

You cried out, high and helpless. You didn’t think you had another climax in you. But naturally, he proved you wrong.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled into your shoulder, voice fracturing. “You feel so good—so fucking good—can’t get enough of you—”

You pulled your wrists free, arms winding around his back, nails digging into the flex of muscle as he drove into you with punishing precision. It wasn’t just about dominance. It was about passion. Mutual, unspoken, and complete.

You felt his body begin to shake, pace growing erratic, and a low groan building in his chest. He leaned down, lips brushing yours, as his fingers clenched the sheets.

“Fuck—baby—” he gasped again, and then the words tumbled out, unguarded and raw. “Fucking love you.”

He said it like it had been waiting in his throat for days. Maybe longer.

And then he came, shuddering violently, buried deep, his whole body bowing into yours as his release crashed through him with a fractured moan.

You held him as he collapsed against you, both of you panting, limbs trembling, skin slick and overheated. You didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.

His forehead rested against your shoulder, and you carded your fingers through the damp curls at the nape of his neck.

Eventually, Auston shifted—slow and careful—as he pulled out of you with a soft, quiet hiss. The motion made you both wince, tender and spent. He didn’t say a word as he rolled to his side, just reached for you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest like gravity itself depended on it.

His lips brushed your forehead. Then your nose. Then your mouth—softly, sweetly.

But this kiss was different. It didn’t ask. It answered. It didn’t burn—it warmed.

You opened your eyes, breath still catching in your throat, and looked at him.

“I love you too,” you whispered, voice small but steady.

Auston let out a short, sheepish laugh. “Shit… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

You raised a brow, though still smiling. “You didn’t?”

“Oh, I meant it,” he said quickly. “I’ve meant it for a while. Just… thought I’d do it better. More romantic. Less… mid-climax.”

You laughed, tucking your head under his chin. “When have we ever done anything the romantic way?”

He made a sound of agreement, rubbing his thumb across your lower lip. “True. But that doesn’t mean we can’t start.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes again. “Next time?”

His smile softened. “Next time.”

The apartment was quiet.

The kind of quiet that hummed beneath your skin—post-storm, post-bliss, post-everything. You were curled under the covers, bare and spent, your body still aching in the best way from the way Auston had held you, taken you, made love to you.

The soft sound of the fridge door closing echoed from the kitchen.

You turned your head just slightly, watching his shadow stretch against the wall as he moved—barefoot, in boxers, hair still messy from your fingers. He’d gone to get water. Said he’d be right back. Said it with a kiss to your shoulder and that boyish little smirk that made your toes curl.

You smiled to yourself, letting your eyes drift closed for a second, before suddenly you were interrupted by a buzz.

Your phone lit up on the nightstand, casting a soft glow. You reached for it lazily, expecting it to be Jess—or maybe Auston, sending something ridiculous from five feet away.

But it wasn’t.

Maya: Timing’s everything. Just a little more and it’ll all be over. Finally.

You blinked. Sat up straighter, sheet still pulled over your chest. The light from your screen seemed brighter than it should’ve been.

Something about it—the tone, the cadence—sent a ripple across your skin.

You read it again. And again.

You stared at the message for a moment longer, your heart beginning to beat faster—not with desire this time, but something colder.

It wasn’t what she wrote. It was how she wrote it.

The rhythm. The punctuation. The way it seemed to watch you, not speak to you. So, unlike her.

Like a whisper behind the curtain. Like a caption under a photo, you hadn’t meant to take.

And suddenly, you knew what it reminded you of.

You pulled open your message history, scrolling further back—weeks, months even. Maya didn’t text often. She was more of a meme-sender and voice-noter, short, sharp, always a bit rushed. But tucked in between the usual casual chaos, there were a few odd texts. Vaguely phrased. Almost… scripted.

You opened the most recent Benchwarmer post. The last one, before everything went quiet.

Your eyes scanned the lines. The phrasing and the tone. Then back to the message.

Your stomach flipped.

It wasn’t definitive. It wasn’t proof. But something in your gut—the same gut that had warned you when the first post dropped, when Chase made threats, when Auston was lying on the ice and not moving—twisted hard.

There was a voice behind the Benchwarmer. And it was starting to sound a lot like hers.

You barely heard Auston’s footsteps returning. But when you glanced up, he was already close to the bed, two glasses in hand, chest bare, hair damp from a quick shower.

“You good?” he asked, pausing in the doorway when he saw your expression.

You swallowed, locking your phone without thinking. “Yeah. Just… spaced out.”

He came onto the bed, offering you the glass. You took it with a faint smile, your fingers brushing his.

You wanted to say it. Wanted to say it out loud—Could it be her? What if it’s Maya?

But you didn’t.

Instead, you sat the glass on the nightstand and just curled back under the covers as he slid in beside you. His arm looped around your waist, warm and grounding.

Saturday –

The morning light slipped through the curtains in soft, slatted stripes, casting gold across the tangled sheets. The world was still, hushed by winter. You blinked awake to the warm weight of Auston behind you—one arm looped loosely around your waist, breath steady against the back of your neck.

You stayed like that for a moment, just breathing. Just existing. His presence was grounding, anchoring you to something real in a world that had shifted so much.

You knew he had training in a few hours, so carefully, you peeled yourself from the duvet and padded toward the bathroom, your body still pleasantly sore from the night before. You took a moment to just freshen up a bit, but you hadn’t made it halfway back to the room before you heard him stir.

“Where you going?” his voice rasped, still syrup-thick with sleep.

You turned, catching the sight of him stretching—shirtless, eyes barely open, hair a glorious mess. His hand reached for the spot you’d just vacated.

“I was letting you rest,” you said, padding back across the floor.

He made a sleepy, discontent sound and opened his arms. “Get your ass back here. Not done with you yet.”

You laughed quietly, slipping under the covers. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm,” he mumbled, already pulling you into him and flipping you onto your back. “And I don’t care.”

He kissed your bare shoulder—lazy and lingering—then your neck, slow enough to make your pulse jump. His hand drifted down, grazing the curve of your hip, then lower still, until his fingers slid between your thighs.

“You’re so wet, baby” he said, his voice suddenly alert, darker. “Is that for me?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. The look in your eyes told him everything.

He then coaxed you onto your stomach, mouth trailing kisses down your spine. You gasped when his tongue found the back of your thigh—then higher, spreading you open with gentle hands and no shame. You buried your face in the pillow, breath stuttering as he began to lick between your folds.

Soft at first. Then deeper. More insistent. His hands gripped your hips as he worked you apart with mouth and tongue, moaning into you when your body started to tremble.

It was too much and yet not enough.

Your fingers clenched in the sheets as heat built and broke like a wave. But Auston didn’t stop—not until your hips were twitching and your moans cracked open the quiet.

And when he finally pulled away, his lips were slick, eyes dark with heat. He leaned over you again, kissing the back of your shoulder, your jaw, your ear.

“Still with me?” he whispered.

You nodded, dazed. “Please. Don’t stop now.”

You didn’t have to ask twice.

He simply guided your hips up a little, his chest pressed to your back as he slid into you—slow, thick, and deep. The stretch made your breath catch, your body arch. His hands flattened against yours on the mattress, fingers lacing.

He moved with reverence, hips rolling in deep, steady strokes. The angle—him above and behind, his mouth at your neck—made you ache in a new way. Each thrust stoked the pleasure again, not sharp like the night before, but rich and slow, a different kind of hunger.

You moaned his name, and Auston swore under his breath, driving in deeper.

“You feel so good, baby,” he gritted. “So fucking good.”

Your answer was a gasp, a tremble, a soft cry when his hand slipped beneath you again and circled your clit—just enough to make you tip over the edge again. Your body clenched, back arching, as you came hard beneath him.

And he followed fast, hips stuttering, breath ragged in your ear as he emptied himself inside you, still holding your hand.

You both collapsed onto the bed, chests heaving, legs tangled beneath the covers.

Auston’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you back against his chest. He kissed your shoulder once. Then again.

“Good morning,” he murmured, still breathless.

You turned your head just enough to smile. “Best one in a while.”

And you meant it.

Later that day, you sat curled in the corner of your couch, legs tucked beneath you, hands nervously toying with the edge of your phone case. The message still lingered in your inbox—cryptic, harmless on the surface, but soaked in implication.

Maya: Timing’s everything. Just a little more and it’ll all be over. Finally.

You stared at it, rereading it for the third time before you finally said, “Jess… can I show you something?”

Jess looked up from the kitchen, hair piled in a top knot. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and came over, her brow pinched in curiosity.

You handed her your phone. Watched her eyes skim the text.

She didn’t speak at first, but then opened her mouth slowly to speak.

“When did she send this?”

“Last night.”

Jess’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “That’s… weird.”

You nodded. “It’s not what she said. It’s how she said it.”

Jess read the message again, thumb hovering above the screen, then let out a quiet sigh. “I’ve thought about it before,” she said finally. “Back when the posts first started. Something about the tone—it always felt… personal. Like she knew too much. But I didn’t want to believe it.”

You looked at her, heart thudding. “So, you thought it too?”

Jess nodded slowly. “Yeah. But Maya’s been our friend for years. She was always just… there. Funny. So positive and happy. The least likely to do something like this.”

“She said she was fine,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Jess. “She always said she was fine.”

Jess’s voice softened. “Sometimes people don’t want you to see the cracks. Especially when they’ve spent so long smiling through them.”

You leaned back, phone still glowing on the coffee table between you. “I don’t want it to be her. I really don’t.”

Jess sat beside you. “But it makes sense. Doesn’t it?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Because it did.

The phrasing. The timing. The way Maya’s messages always seemed to know just enough. Like someone writing from inside your house. Someone who once knew your passwords. Your moods. Your weakness.

“She’s not going to confess if we confront her,” Jess said, quiet but certain. “If we charge in, she’ll lie. She’ll deflect. She’s too proud to fold under pressure.”

“So, what do we do?”

Jess tilted her head. “We wait. We invite her out. Let her think it’s a regular catch-up. Let her bring the story to us.”

You looked at her, unsure. “And what if she doesn’t?”

“Then we know.” Jess reached out and squeezed your hand. “But either way, we do this smart. Not emotional. You’ve been the story long enough. It’s time you took the pen back.”

You exhaled, the weight of it all sinking in.

You: Hey, coffee soon? Haven’t caught up in a while.

Maya: Sure. Our usual spot?

You: Perfect. See you tomorrow?

Maya: Can’t wait.

You stared at the screen long after the chat went dark.

You weren’t sure what would happen. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to happen. But one thing was clear: you were ready to hear the truth. Even if it broke you.

Sunday -

The café smelled like burnt espresso and cinnamon. It was your usual spot—warm light, scuffed floorboards, the gentle hum of indie music floating beneath clinks of ceramic. You’d met here a hundred times before. After work. On slow Saturdays. In moments when the world was a little too much and you just needed your girls.

But today, the energy was off.

You sat at the corner table with Jess beside you, her coat still on, fingers wrapped tightly around her coffee cup. Across from you, Maya stirred her drink in slow, lazy circles, the spoon clinking against the mug like a metronome marking the pace of something quietly unravelling.

No one spoke right away. Not really like you.

Jess was the one to try and open with something easy. “How’s work? Still chasing chaos?”

But Maya just gave a vague shrug. “Same old.”

You nodded. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

Maya looked up, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “So have you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t hostile. Just… unfamiliar. Like the three of you had been dropped into a conversation halfway through a play you didn’t audition for. Jess tapped her nails against her cup. You adjusted the sleeve of your jumper. Maya kept stirring.

“You seemed off the other day,” Jess said finally. “Everything okay?”

Maya gave a tight little smile. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

You exchanged a glance with Jess.

“Maya—” you began, but she cut you off.

“No, really,” she said, louder this time. “Everything’s great. You’re back with Auston. Everyone forgave you. The WAGs are obsessed again. Even Jess is fielding hockey boy attention. Life’s peachy.”

The words hit with a sharpness you didn’t expect. “Okay… what’s going on?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Maya’s smile twisted.

Jess stiffened. “Get what?”

Maya sat back, eyes narrowing at you. “Do you have any idea what it’s like watching someone coast through life while you’re clawing for air the whole time?”

You frowned. “Maya, that’s not fair—”

“Isn’t it?” she snapped. “You had everything. Have everything. Talent. Looks. The job. The attention. And you never fucking appreciated any of it.”

Your heart stuttered. Jess leaned forward, voice calm but firm. “Okay. Let’s not do this here.”

“No, let’s,” Maya said, and suddenly her voice cracked—not angry. Just exhausted. “Let’s talk about how I busted my ass for years trying to get anyone to take me seriously. No internships. No by-lines. Nothing. And you? You waltzed in with your clean résumé and PR smile, and everything just fell into place.”

You stared at her. “You think it was easy for me?”

“I think it was easier,” she hissed. “Because you were you. Perfect. Polished. Marketable. You knew the right people. Said the right things. And when that wasn’t enough, you caught him.”

Auston.

The name wasn’t spoken, but it didn’t need to be.

“Maya…” Jess’s voice dropped, suddenly cautious.

But she ignored her.

“I loved him,” she said, eyes locked on yours. “And I know that sounds pathetic. I know he never saw me. But I saw you. The way you looked at him. The way you ignored it. Took it for granted. You had something I wanted more than anything, and you didn’t even know you were holding it.”

You swallowed hard; words caught in your throat.

“So yeah,” she said, voice hardening. “I wrote the first post. And the second. And every other one after that. Because I couldn’t be the girl who got him. But I could be the girl who ruined the one who did.”

The confession cracked through the air like glass underfoot.

You felt Jess freeze beside you. Heard the hum of conversation around you, far away. Maya looked away, jaw clenched, as if ashamed of herself—but not enough to take it back.

“I wanted to make you pay,” she whispered. “For never realising how lucky you were.”

The pain in your chest bloomed slowly.

“I was lucky,” you said softly. “And I fucked it up. And I hurt people. But I never tried to hurt you, Maya. You were my friend.”

She flinched.

Jess leaned in, voice low. “You didn’t just write gossip, Maya. You invaded privacy. You humiliated people. You targeted her.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Maya snapped. “You think I haven’t stayed up every night for weeks knowing this would fall apart eventually?”

“Then why not stop?” you asked. “Why keep going?”

“Because if I couldn’t be the one he loved—at least I could be the reason you didn’t get to keep it.”

The truth cut deeper than the cruelty.

But then Jess stood slowly, her hand brushing yours. “Come on. I think we’re done here.”

You allowed a second to pass before you stood too—slowly, like you weren’t quite sure how your legs were holding you up. Maya didn’t look at either of you as you turned to leave. But just before you reached the door, she spoke again.

“I didn’t do it for clout,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I did it because watching you be happy hurt.”

You stopped—but didn’t turn back.

Then after a moment, Jess gently nudged you forward. And you left the café without another word.

Monday -

The locker room buzzed with post-game chatter and the soft clicks of cameras. Reporters gathered in the usual scrum, microphones extended like antennae, eyes trained on Auston Matthews—still in partial gear, damp hair curling at his temple.

A reporter leaned in. “Auston, another strong performance tonight—two assists and the OT winner. What’s been fuelling your game lately?”

Auston shrugged lightly, towel slung around his neck. “Just… locked in, I guess. Trying to keep things simple. Have fun with it.”

Another voice piped up—this time from the back. “And off the ice? You seem… lighter lately. Happier. Anything—or anyone—to thank for that?”

He paused.

The corners of his mouth lifted into a slow, knowing smile. He didn’t rush the answer. Just let it linger for a beat too long before finally replying.

“Yeah. I’m in love.”

The room stilled for a second. Pens scratched faster. Cameras zoomed.

He chuckled softly, eyes dropping for a moment like the weight of the truth had just settled in properly.

“Happier than I’ve ever been.”

#The Benchwarmer #inexperienced!reader x Auston #auston matthews fanfic #Toronto maple leafs fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl romance #nhl imagines

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