#i can read it but when it comes to what the word means i’m like uhhh 🙃 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aquarius-johnny · 2 days ago

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"seasons of love" | johnny suh

𝜗𝜚 genre: fluff, smut | wc: 10.7k | au: strangers to lovers 𝜗𝜚 pairing: johnny suh x afab! reader 𝜗𝜚 warnings: dom! johnny, big dick johnny (hehe), mentions of alcohol, phone sex, exchanging of sexual pictures, dirty talk, masturbation, oral (m + f receiving), spanking, fingering, multiple orgasms, talking through it, praising, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, pet names (baby, pretty, pretty girl, my girl, honey), reader's bestie's has a name for writing purposes, mentions of other members (mark, doyoung, yuta), it's intentional that johnny always greets the reader with 'hey baby' ��𝜚 summary: moments of love throughout the seasons with a boy you met on a dating app. 𝜗𝜚 aimee's thoughts 💭 : i tried to edit this to bring it down to at least 8k, but the smut scenes kept pushing up the word count, but those of you who read it, i hope you enjoy! feel free to send me your thoughts!

check out my other work! → m.list navi

── Winter

[Thursday, 6:20 PM]

💌 Johnny: I don’t believe in love at first sight, but you have me considering love at first swipe.

That’s the first message Johnny sends you when you match with him on some random dating app your best friend begged you to get on to find someone to spice up the boring routine of your everyday life.

Your thumbs hover over your phone’s keyboard, chewing on your bottom lip as you think of a reply only to have another message come in.

💌 Johnny: Wait, that might be too forward. Maybe this will work instead: 💌 Johnny: My mom told me not to talk to strangers online, but I’ll make an exception for you.

You shake your head as you playfully roll your eyes at his messages, a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

You: Yeah, that works a lot better. You should open up with that line from now on.

You reply, anxiously waiting for his response as you swipe through the profile of the attractive man you’re surprised you matched with.

💌 Johnny: Can’t. I’m not a fan of using the same line on multiple people, so I hate to break it to you, but that line is for you and only you.

You: Oh? Mind if I use that line, too? You’re smooth with your words.

💌 Johnny: But it’s for you and only you :( What if it gets you someone else? That’s not fair! 💌 Johnny: Also thanks, I’m only smooth through messages though. Flirting with people irl makes me nervous.

You: Really? You don’t strike me as someone who gets nervous around people.

💌 Johnny: And you don’t strike me as someone to be on a filthy dating app like this.

You: Filthy? But you’re here, too.

💌 Johnny: I’ve been here for months now and I can say with confidence, you and me? We’re the exception.

You: Striking out?

💌 Johnny: Left and right :( 💌 Johnny: It's not me, I swear!

You: What else could it be?

💌 Johnny: Maybe the universe had its plans for me to meet you. I mean, we’re here now, right?

You bite down on your bottom lip, feeling a sensation of flutters in your stomach that you haven’t felt in a very long time. Looking down at your phone, you see another message pop up.

💌 Johnny: I’ll lay off the flirtatious comments, it’s going to lose its effect if I keep going and we don’t want that. 💌 Johnny: Sooo…how was your day?

You let out a small laugh, typing out your response. As you lay in bed messaging this stranger back for what felt like hours, you learn he’s born and raised in Chicago, he’s an only child, currently works at a startup company that focuses on coding education for students, his last relationship ended nearly a year and a half ago, and he has great music taste. He even shares his favorite songs with you — sending you a link to his Spotify profile to check out some of his created playlists.

You share bits of yourself, somehow feeling a bit mundane compared to the man you’re talking to.

💌 Johnny: So genuinely asking, why’d you jump on this app? I figure you don’t have a hard time meeting people in real life.

You: My friend told me to download this “filthy app” to spice up my boring routine. It's easier to meet people online nowadays, I suppose. You: What about you? You seem extroverted enough to meet people in real life, and you’re not hard to look at, so what’s the catch?

💌 Johnny: Not hard to look at? Did you just call me good looking without actually saying it? That’s cute. 💌 Johnny: You’re cute, too. 💌 Johnny: But like yourself, I find it’s easier to meet people online. I can think of what to say before I send it whereas I’d probably be stumbling over my words in person.

You: Mr. Smooth Talker stumbling over his words? Can’t see that happening at all.

💌 Johnny: Why don’t we meet and you can find out?

You: Not comfortable with that, yet. After all, I just met you. How do I know you’re not a killer?

💌 Johnny: Fair enough, I don’t know if you’re a killer, too, so I’ll wait.

You: Might be a while. I’m a painfully busy girl these days.

💌 Johnny: As long as you’re willing to respond, I’ll wait however long I need to. 💌 Johnny: After all, the universe brought us together and we don’t want to disappoint the universe, right?

[Tuesday, 10:06 AM]

It’s been a couple of weeks since matching with Johnny and you both have been in constant contact with each other every day – the only time there’s a break in communication is during work hours, but even then you both find yourselves opening the app to send a quick message to each other.

Although you normally would be messaging outside of the app with the rate you’re going back and forth at this point, you don’t mind. While a small part of you feels maybe this is his way of keeping you at a distance, you convince yourself this is purely getting to know him – not worrying about whether or not you’ll be getting a relationship out of it. It doesn’t stop you from thinking about him more than you should and it certainly doesn’t prevent you from wondering if he’s thinking about you as much as you did him.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear your best friend and co–worker, Yuri, call out your name before giving a gentle nudge to your arm. When you look at her, she’s looking back at you suspiciously – noting your lack of attentiveness these past few days.

“What’s been distracting you these days?” She asks, twirling her favorite pen between her fingers. “It’s not like you to be daydreaming during work.”

You apologize, slightly shaking your head as if it’ll refocus your train of thought. “You were saying something about lunch?”

“Yeah, think you can come with me to that cute coffee shop?” She lowers her voice before continuing, ensuring no one hears her next sentences. “I need fuel for this stupid project.” She rolls her eyes before letting out a huff. “I don’t know what the hell the boss was thinking, assigning a five person project to two people, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a rough couple of months.”

“Good idea,” you nod, clearly distracted as you see your phone screen light up with a notification from Johnny. You’re tempted to open it, but you flip your phone over instead, sharply inhaling to refocus on your task at hand.

“So,” Yuri drawls. “Who’d you meet on the app that has you acting like this?”

You turn your attention to Yuri – tilting your head and knitting your brows together in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” As you try to bite back a smile, Yuri notices you shying away from her.

“Oh come on,” she rolls her eyes, shifting in her seat. “You came in with your eyes glued to your phone, your phone screen is lighting up like crazy with notifications, and you’re seriously distracted.” She sends you a devilish grin, reading you like a book. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in love.”

“Not in love,” you quickly clarify as you begin to jot down a priority list for the project that was assigned last week. “But if you must know, yes, I did meet someone.”

Yuri’s eyes nearly bulge out of her skull, clearly surprised you’re actually giving someone your time which isn’t something you did since your last relationship that ended two years prior. Yuri stands from her computer chair, quickly gathering some of her work essentials. “Come on,” she lets out, softly hitting you in the arm to grab your attention. “Let’s go to the meeting room to work on our project and you can tell me everything about this guy.”

Upon entering the meeting room, Yuri shuts the glass door and flips the sign on the door to “in use” before pulling some of the blinds down halfway to prevent onlookers who walk past the floor to ceiling windows.

“Tell me everything.” She squeals, pulling a seat next to you. “Do not leave anything out.”

You sharply inhale, bracing yourself to tell your best friend everything you know about Johnny. As you share, her face lights up as she listens to you talk about this mystery guy which in return causes your face to heat up from excitement and embarrassment at the same time.

“Pictures! Show me pictures.” Yuri smiles widely.

You pull up his dating profile and you hand your phone over to her. The first picture already has her gushing. “Oh, he’s cute! Like really cute.” When she reaches the end of his photos, she lets out a small, disappointed sigh, wanting to see more. “Have you two met in person yet?” She asks, handing your phone back to you.

You shake your head, puffing your cheeks. “We haven’t had the time to,” you sigh. “Plus, I’ve been kinda putting it off.”

“And why is that?” Yuri’s brows furrow, almost disappointed in your actions — or lack thereof.

“It’s easier to communicate over the phone.” You defend, crossing your arms. “Plus, meeting in person feels so serious. I’m enjoying getting to know him.”

Yuri nods in understanding. “Well,” she deeply inhales before stretching her arms over her head. “At least you know he’s not in it for a hookup, that’s for sure.”

“Wait, how do you know that?”

“I don’t think he’d be messaging you after you rejected seeing him the first time, especially for this long. A guy like him doesn’t need to play the long game to get laid, either. Regardless, there’s definitely something about you that’s keeping his attention, that’s for sure.”

[Tuesday, 11:47 AM]

As you’re waiting in line to place your order, you finally check your phone to check the messages from Johnny that you missed before lunch. The beating of your heart accelerates causing your hands to lightly tremble as you unlock your phone, almost nervous to see what he has to say to you but your nerves begin to settle when your eyes quickly scan over his words, causing you to smile at your phone.

💌 Johnny: Hey, I hope you’re having a great day so far! 💌 Johnny: I fed this stray cat on my way back to work and it followed me all the way to the building. I think it thinks I’m its dad, now. 💌 Johnny: Btw, if I asked for your number, would you freak out?

You: I guess you’re a cat dad, now. Congrats!

You: Also, no, I wouldn’t freak out. Do you want my number?

Before you could slide your phone into your pocket, you feel it vibrate in your hand.

💌 Johnny: Yes I want your number 💌 Johnny: If you don’t mind 💌 Johnny: Please :)

[Wednesday, 6:19 PM]

As you’re laying in bed, your phone lights up with a message from Johnny. It’s been like this for a month and a half — waking up to a good morning text, constantly texting throughout the day, and ending the night with a good night text.

💌 Johnny: I was wondering something.

You: Yeah?

💌 Johnny: We’ve been texting for almost two months now, right? When do you think I can hear your voice? 💌 Johnny: Not that I don’t enjoy texting, I do! I’m just curious to know what you sound like.

You: Why don’t you call me and find out?

Within seconds, your phone lights up with his name popping up on your screen. You feel your heart nearly jump out of your chest while your stomach feels like it’s doing a hundred cartwheels at once as you read his name on your screen. Heat rushes under your skin before you finally answer.

“Hey!” You greet eagerly before you silently curse yourself, thinking you sound too enthusiastic for the first greeting.

“Hey,” Johnny giggles on the other line. “It’s great to finally hear your voice.”

“Yeah, it’s great to hear yours too.” You bite down on your bottom lip, internally squealing as you speak to him. “How are you?”

“Better, now that I get to hear you.”

“Do I sound like what you expected?” You softly question, pulling your knees to your chest after sitting up in bed – clearly too excited to be casually laying down.

“I don’t think I had any expectations,” Johnny laughs. “But somehow your voice is better than I imagined.” He happily sighs. “What about me? Do I sound like what you thought I would sound like?”

“I don’t think I thought about it as much as you have, but I like it.” You pause for a second. “Your voice, I mean.”

“Yeah, I like yours, too.” You could sense a smile on his face before he clears his throat. “So, how was your day?”

── Spring

[Monday, 6:50 PM]

You slump onto your bed, your head pounding with a headache that creeped in around two in the afternoon and settling itself in the crevices of your skull. You’re swamped at work and the only thing you’ve been looking forward to these days is talking to Johnny. However, tonight is filled with disappointment when you find out he’ll be at his friend’s house for a small get-together for the night — earning a groan from you knowing you most likely won’t hear his voice before bed when you’ve gotten so accustomed to it.

💌 Johnny: If you need me, just call me. 💌 Johnny: I promise I’ll answer :)

You smile at his text before tossing your phone onto your bed. Hopping into the shower, you hoped that the steam would somehow alleviate your throbbing head only for it to still be there when you got out. Getting ready for bed, you check your phone to see Johnny sent you a picture of him and his friends playing a game of monopoly with the attached text: wish you were here.

Before you could respond, Yuri’s contact photo fills your screen, pulling your attention towards her instead.

“Hey!” She greets. “Sorry to talk about work, but it’ll be quick!”

Sitting on the foot of your bed with a towel wrapped around your body, you let out a quiet sigh to brace yourself. “Sure, what’s up?” You let out, yawning from the mental fatigue you’ve been feeling the past week.

“You don’t sound too well,” Yuri comments, hearing ruffling from her side — assuming she’s opening a bag of her favorite snack.

“I have this horrible headache that water and meds can’t seem to get rid of,” you pout and groan, falling back into your bed, phone situated against your ear.

“Why don’t you call Johnny,” she teases. “I heard an orgasm can fix a lot of things. Maybe it can relieve that headache of yours?”

“Ha ha,” you dryly retort. “I still haven’t met him in person and even if I did, he’s hanging out with friends tonight.”

“Okay, so get him on the phone for phone sex?” Yuri advises nonchalantly. “Nothing’s hotter than sneaking away in the bathroom to hear moans on the other end of the phone.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience,” you laugh before you hear the crunch of a snack on her end of the call.

“It’s the thrill that keeps me going in life,” she giggles. “Get some sleep, I’ll just talk to you tomorrow about the project. You, my friend, are in desperate need of a good night’s rest. Nighty night!”

Pondering the thought for a moment, your thumb hovers over Johnny’s number in your phone. You look at yourself in your full length mirror placed in front of your bed. It can’t hurt, right?

Settling on the thought of ‘just do it,’ you begin fluffing the pillows against your headboard before positioning yourself with your back pressed against your pillows and in view of the mirror. You unwrap the towel around your body, open the camera app on your phone – ensuring your face is blocked, spread open your thighs, and capture a shot of your reflection.

Without a second thought, you’re opening your messaging app and attaching the photo to the message thread you have with Johnny — adding the text: wish you were here, too before you impulsively hit send.

Your heart races — the adrenaline from doing something you find to be incredibly risky and something you’ve never dared to do before. You see the little notification that indicates Johnny has opened the text, causing you to throw your phone across your bed, almost afraid to see what he’s about to say. Two messages come in before you cautiously grab your phone to read them.

💌 Johnny: Hey, um, did you mean to send me that? 💌 Johnny: I can delete it if it was a mistake

You: Not a mistake but if you don’t like it, feel free to delete it

Your heart pounds against your chest and your mouth goes dry in anticipation. A wave of regret suddenly washes over you and you begin to type out an apology text to Johnny – something along the lines of not blaming him if he never wanted to speak to you again. You’re about to send it until another text from him pops up.

💌 Johnny: Can I call you, please?

Quickly erasing the previously typed out message, you respond with a simple yes. Within seconds, you have your phone pressed to your ear.

“Hey,” you softly greet.

“Hey.” His voice is hushed, but you hear a faint echo as he speaks, indicating he’s in the bathroom. “What’s up with that picture you sent?”

“You don’t like it,” you sigh. “I’m so sorry, I -”

“I didn’t say that,” he chuckles softly. “The total opposite, actually. Just wondering why all of a sudden.”

“I have a headache that won’t go away and I heard an orgasm would help relieve it.” Your voice is so timid and shy, Johnny can’t help but find it cute.

“I can help you with that, for sure.” He breathily responds. “Hold on real quick.”

You hum, cunt dripping with excitement. Your mind races at the realization that Johnny was absolutely down for this just as much as you are. Your phone vibrates against your ear, seeing a photo attachment pops up.

“I sent you a little inspirational photo,” Johnny whispers. “In case you need to imagine what you’re working with.”

You open the message, letting out a loud, surprised gasp at the picture he sent. “T-that’s not little,” you stutter, staring at the photo of his cock he sent you — his lengthy shaft is mouth watering as your eyes follow the protruding veins that run from the base of his cock to his redden mushroom tip that’s clearly leaking clear and thick precum.

“Do you like it?” Johnny lets out an amused laugh at your reaction.

“Love it,” you breathe; breath shakier than expected.

“Touch yourself for me,” he instructs. “Let’s make you feel better, hm?”

“Mm,” you softly let out. You place him on speaker and lay your phone against your chest before you lick your index and middle finger and begin tracing circles around your excited clit, letting out soft moans into your phone.

“That’s it, baby.” He coos. “I wanna make you feel good, you wouldn’t have to do a thing if I was there with you.” Johnny’s hand slicks up and down, trying to muffle the noises he desperately wants to let out.

You softly groan. “What would you do to me?” Your voice sends shivers down his spine — so soft and sweet, it’s driving him crazy.

“Everything,” he sharply inhales. “I’d eat my baby out so well, you’ll forget how to speak. I’d fuck you so good, you’ll be craving it all the time. Everything you want me to do, baby I’ll do it for you.” He groans, his fist tightening around his hardened shaft.

You giggle, dipping your fingers into your cunt. “I wish my fingers were yours instead,” you pout. “I bet you would make me cum on your fingers alone.”

“Tell me how it feels inside of you,” he begs, jaw slacking open, his mind running wild with sinful thoughts of you.

“It’s soft, warm, and really really wet,” you smile. “I think it’d be a perfect time for you to slide inside of me. You’re so big and I just know you’ll stretch me so well.”

“Fuck,” Johnny mumbles under his breath, imagining himself bottoming out inside of you. “I wanna make you cum all night,” he whispers, voice hitching. “I wanna make you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Can we make that a promise?” You bite down on your bottom lip.

“Mhm,” he smiles. “I promise,.”

You rub yourself quickly, your moans bouncing off your bedroom walls mixing with the muffled sounds of Johnny’s pleas. “Faster,” you whimper. “I want you to fuck me faster.”

Johnny speeds up his pace, biting down on his bottom lip to muffle his groans from his friends. His breath quivers and a soft, desperate whimper parts his lips. You match Johnny’s pace.

Neither of you speak – only allowing the frenzied noises that escape your lips to talk for both of you.

“Baby,” you whine. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too,” he grunts. “Fuck, wish you could cum all over my cock. I wanna feel that pretty pussy tighten around me.”

His words give you that small push to your orgasm, crying out as you ride out your high, fingers rapidly rubbing over your clit as your mind flashes the photo of Johnny sent you, imagining him release inside of you.

The raunchy noises you make send Johnny over the edge. He bites down on his bottom lip and a strangled groan is heard. Strings of thick, hot ropes paint his blushed cock, shaft twitching as he closes his eyes, his mind imagining filling you up with his creamy essence.

You lift your phone to record a video as Johnny gathers his thoughts before quickly cleaning himself up. Opening your front facing camera, you keep your lower half of your face in frame as you bring your two digits to your mouth, sucking off the remnants of your release. You hit send and wait for him to open it.

“Your lips are so perfect.” Johnny gives you an entertained chuckle. “I’d love to see them wrapped around my cock.” He sighs, imagining the sight. “How’s your headache, by the way?”

“It’s gone now. Thank you for helping me,” you sigh in pleasure.

“Anytime,” he smiles against his phone. “Anytime you need to do that again, call me.”

“I will,” you giggle.

[Friday, 8:30 PM]

“How’s work going?” You ask Johnny, cuddling into your pillow.

“It’s going well. We’re working on getting some people on this project to build a kid-friendly coding software where kids as young as five can learn how to code in schools.” He pauses, taking a sip of his drink. “We’re hoping that it’ll build interest at a young age. But enough about me, how’s work going for you, baby?”

Your body never fails to react when he calls you the pet name he settled on. “It’s been hectic,” you yawn. “The project Yuri and I have been assigned to isn’t the easiest to balance when the workload we usually get is the same.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could do something to help,” he pouts sympathetically. “Is there anything I can do to help ease your stress?”

“Give me some of your ability to be extroverted for the duration of this project,” you weakly laugh. “I hate having to talk to people and the fact we have to present our ideas to higher ups constantly nearly sends me into a breakdown every time. I applied for this job because it didn’t involve a lot of contact with people, but our boss clearly has another direction he wants to take the company.”

“Not much of a talker? That’s hard to believe with how much you talk my ear off every day,” he jokingly remarks.

“Guess I have a soft spot for you,” you hum, heart swelling with love for the guy on the other line.

“Good,” he smiles. “I like talking to you. I actually find myself missing your voice every day. Sometimes I think my only motivation to get through the day is being able to hear you before bed every night.”

“Missing my voice? But you said you hear it every night.” You shift in your bed, giggling at Johnny’s words.

“I know, but that doesn't mean I don’t miss it when we hang up,” he tiredly chuckles, clearing his throat. “I guess that means I like you a lot, huh?”

Your heart skips a beat, feeling your entire body heat up at his confession.

“I guess it does,” you sigh with a smile. “But it’s okay because I like you a lot, too.”

[Thursday, 6:30 PM]

“We should head home,” Yuri yawns, tugging on your office chair as she tries to pry you away from your computer. “There’s no point in staying here if we’re not getting overtime.”

Rubbing your temples, you stand from your chair. The office you’ve been in since eight in the morning is now dimly lit — the lights of busy businesses lined on the strip of your office building illuminate through the floor to ceiling windows. Only a handful of employees tapping away on their computer’s keyboard, trying to finish up the overwhelming amount of work they’re drowning in.

You grab your belongings before walking with Yuri to the building’s parking garage and to your car. You tiredly wave goodbye to her and check your phone to find a couple of worried messages from Johnny.

💌 Johnny: Good morning, baby! I hope you have a great day today. 💌 Johnny: I miss you, work is a drag :( 💌 Johnny: Getting lunch with a few of my co-workers. I hope your day is going well. Enjoy your lunch! 💌 Johnny: Are you okay? Haven’t heard from you at all today. 💌 Johnny: Baby? I’m seriously getting worried. Is something wrong? 💌 Johnny: Text me when you’re done with work, please.

As you warm up your car, you send a quick message to Johnny.

You: I’m sorry, today was absolute shit. Yuri and I needed to stay back but I’m leaving the office now. I’m sorry I didn’t text you today :( I didn’t have a minute to myself, but I’ll call you when I get home.

When you’re finally home, you throw your belongings to the side, desperate to finally have a moment of peace after a hectic day. You give Johnny a call, like you said you would. He answers after two rings, your mind finding a sense of peace once you hear his voice.

“Hey baby,” he greets. “I missed you today.”

“Hi,” you softly let out. Your eyes begin to prickle and tears threaten to fall.

“Are you okay?” He asks concerned, voice so soft and sweet.

“No.” Your voice trembles as you let your tears fall before you let out a sniffle. “I’m really stressed.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty.”

Your complaints begin to spill out of you, tears staining your cheeks as your frustration grows. Johnny stays quiet, offering the occasional hum to let you know he’s still there and that he’s listening to you. He attempts to find comforting words, but you find yourself yearning for physical comfort — sick and tired of being alone every night when you could be with him instead.

“Johnny?” You whisper weakly.

“Hm?”

“Can I come over?” You ask, tired and exhausted.

“Come over…like to my place?”

“Mhm. You live in the city right? It shouldn’t be too far from where I am, I can probably drive there.”

“Are you sure?” His words intertwined with deep concern. “You sound pretty tired, baby. I can pick you up, instead.”

“I can drive,” you smile weakly. “I promise I’ll drive safely.”

After some convincing, Johnny sends you the address to his apartment building. You quickly wash up and dress comfortably before heading over.

[Thursday, 7:30 PM]

As you carefully scan the apartment numbers, you stop in front of his door. Your nerves are sent into overdrive; part of you reconsidering suddenly meeting him at his apartment and wondering if you should turn around and leave, but you decide not to, considering how you longed to see Johnny.

Lifting your hand, you knock on the door. You’re holding your breath in anticipation, waiting for Johnny to open it. You look down at your feet when you see the front door open, your eyes lifting to meet the tall man in front of you. You let out an exhale when you see the guy you’ve been talking to every night for months.

“Hey baby,” he smiles bashfully, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. “Come on in.” He extends his hand out for you to grab.

You take his hand and step inside, quickly removing your shoes. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you smile up at him, lightly tugging on his fingers.

Johnny pulls you into him, engulfing you in a warm embrace — you take note of his lingering cologne, a woody musk scent that makes you hum; etching the scent into your mind. His hand cups the back of your head, gently petting your hair to comfort you. “I’m glad you’re here, have you eaten yet?”

You shake your head, your cheek still pressed against his chest. “I didn’t have time to,” you sigh, basking in his warmth and embrace.

“Good,” he kisses the top of your head. “I just finished making dinner, we can eat together.”

During dinner, there wasn’t a moment of awkwardness and you silently thank him for taking the reins when it comes to the conversation. Johnny has a knack of making you feel comfortable in his presence.

You appreciate how he listens intently, too — occasionally hooking his fingers with yours as you speak, causing you to stumble over your words when you’re aware of his touch.

“Cute,” he smirks amused by your timidness, bringing the back of your hand to his lips before giving your skin a soft and tender kiss.

After dinner, you watch Johnny wash the dishes as you sit on the island counters behind him.

“Do you need help?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not too much and I’m almost done. Thanks though,” he grins.

He quickly puts away the dishes before turning to you. His hands plant themselves on top the countertop on either side of you. “How’re you feeling?” He asks, gently pushing your hair behind your ear. “I know you weren’t feeling the best when you called earlier today.”

“Better,” you smile, resting your hands on the sides of Johnny’s neck, your thumbs idly rubbing against his soft cheeks. “Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have you.”

You flicker between his eyes before your gaze falls onto his lips, noting the natural pout he has before it turns into a smirk — taking notice of you staring.

He slowly leans into you, one hand resting on your lower back and pulling your body closer to his.

When Johnny’s lips meet yours, a spark in your stomach ignites and your heart swells tenfold after feeling his touch.

“So much better than I could ever imagine,” he praises, earning a soft giggle from you before you capture his lips once more and deepening the kiss. He gently rolls his tongue over yours before taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

Your hands fall to his waist, pulling him close as Johnny’s hands caress the sides of your face, holding you in still.

You’re both pulled out of the trance when you hear Johnny’s doorbell ring.

You pull away from him, face flushed with heat and a light red tint covering Johnny’s cheeks. “Expecting visitors?” You ask, feeling Johnny’s thumb gently rubbing the exposed skin of your lower back.

“No,” he shares, shaking his head. “Let’s just ignore it, maybe they’ll just go away.” He teases, mouthing the crook of your neck and tickling you in the process.

A guy’s voice is heard calling out for Johnny which is followed by a pounding on his front door. “C’mon we know you’re in there! We saw your car parked downstairs!”

Johnny drops his head in disappointment upon realizing who it is, causing you to softly laugh at his reaction.

”It’s my friends,” he sighs. “Their timing is impeccable.” He sarcastically retorts, rolling his eyes before pushing himself away from you.

You quickly hop off the counter top and grab your belongings before following him causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Wait, you’re leaving already?” He asks, his voice dripping with disappointment. “I’ll tell them to leave.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you rest your hand against his warm cheek, giving him a small smile. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to interrupt. They clearly want to hang out with you.”

Grabbing your hand, he shakes his head. “Please don’t leave,” he begs. “You just got here. I don’t wanna say goodbye yet.”

“John!” His friends call out, rapidly knocking on his front door.

“Hold on!” He shouts back before turning his attention back to you, lowering his voice. “Stay the night, please? We won’t do anything but sleep, I promise.”

“Baby,” you sigh. “I have work tomorrow.”

“Call in sick. You need to rest after today.”

“If I do, what about you?” You half heartedly giggle. “You’re gonna call in sick too?”

“Yeah, why not?” He smiles. “We can have a rest day together.”

Your brows lift in shock. “You’re serious?”

“Yes,” he lets out. “I’ll quickly introduce you to my friends and then I’ll tell them to go home.”

You stay quiet, contemplating his offer. While this isn’t something you’d normally do, it’s something you want.

“No,” you shake your head. “You don’t need to send them home.”

Johnny’s heart quickly drops to the pit of his stomach and you note his change in emotion causing you to lace your fingers between his.

“They can stay and hang out with you. I’ll just,” you pause, scanning the room to look for something, anything, to do. “I’ll go lay down and you can join me when you’re done.”

Johnny’s eyes light up. “Y-you’ll stay?” He flashes an excited and toothy grin, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah. It’s innocent, right?” You clarify.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he promises. “But…”

“But?”

“I’m not letting you hide away in my bedroom.”

He opens the front door. Two of his friends are about to greet him, only to be taken aback at the sight of you. He quickly introduces you to his friends — Mark and Doyoung.

“Be nice,” he warns them. “She’s hanging out with us tonight.”

── Summer

[Saturday, 9:40 PM]

Loud music blares from the speakers and the rooms fill with the chattering of drunken people. Low lights illuminate the walls throughout the house and the smell of sweat mixed with alcohol fills the crowded rooms.

Johnny ensures you’re glued to his side, both of you choosing to stay sober for the night. Other people’s flirty glances towards Johnny don’t go unnoticed by you, but Johnny’s subtle gestures remind you he has eyes for you and only you.

You find yourself leaning against a wall as Johnny whispers sweet nothings in your ear causing you to giggle like a teenager in love. One of your hands plays with the silver necklace dangling around Johnny’s neck while your other hand grips onto his broad shoulder. Johnny’s cages you between his body and the wall behind you, leaning in to press kisses on your cheek.

“Remember when we had phone sex for the first time?” You whisper in his ear.

Johnny gives you a nod. “How can I forget?” He bites down on his bottom lip.

“Can I see the picture you sent me, in person?” You ask, tugging on the waistband of his jeans, pulling his hip into yours.

“Yeah, you definitely can.” He places an endearing kiss on your forehead.

“Think there’s a vacant room upstairs?”

“Let’s go find out,” he smiles, taking your hand in his before guiding you through the crowded steps. He jiggles each door knob to every room in sight to see if any of them are unlocked. To your surprise, a door opens and Johnny quickly pulls you in.

Pressing you against the back of the bedroom door, his fingers quickly find its lock as he hungrily attacks your lips. Johnny’s large hands wander your body, groping every crevice before settling on your ass. He gives it a nice smack, earning him a playful yelp from you.

You palm his hardening length through his jeans before pushing him towards the bed, the back of his knees hit the mattress and causes him to fall onto his back. Straddling his lap, the pads of his fingers harshly press into your hips — your jeans softening the pressure and potential bruises he’d leave otherwise.

Johnny desperately guides your movements as you grind against his crotch before his fingers slowly begin to unbutton your jeans.

“Ah ah,” you snicker with a smirk, guiding his hands back to your hips. “This is about you tonight.”

Johnny gulps, throat bobbing up and down as he swallows hard, lips slightly parting at your words. He watches as you sink to your knees between his legs.

You undo his jeans before hooking your fingers into his waistband to pull the fabric down his thighs. The sight of the large outline of his bulge that’s pressed against the dark colored fabric holding it back causes you to involuntarily tighten between your thighs.

Propping himself up, he watches as you palm his crotch before tugging on his underwear, releasing his cock from the fabric. It slaps against his abdomen and his mushroom tip ends right below his belly button.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly at the sight of his thick and long length — licking your previous glossed lips and grabbing his heavy cock with your hand.

“Definitely bigger than anything I’ve had before,” you comment right before licking a long strip from his balls to his tip before engulfing his cock head into your mouth.

His jaw falls open, the warm feeling of your mouth sending shivers through his body.

Sinking him further in your mouth, you feel his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag at the feeling before you realize you weren’t able to take all of him on your first try.

Johnny realizes then proceeds to gently push down the top of your head, encouraging you to take more of him inside of you.

You’re gagging on his length, tears brining your waterline before you blink, feeling them trail down your cheeks.

“There you go baby,” he coos, stroking the back of your head. “Taking all of me so well.”

When you pull your head back, strings of saliva follow, causing you to smile up at him as you use your hand to pump him.

“Promise me something,” you let out, rubbing circles against his sensitive tip with your thumb.

“A-anything,” he swallows sharply, voice hitching at your touch.

“When we fuck for the first time, whenever that may be,” you pause, letting pool of your spit fall onto his cock before you spreading it up and down his erection. “Promise you’ll cum inside of me.”

“I promise,” he quickly answers with no hesitation.

You hum and your free hand cups his jawline. “You’re such a good boy,” you coo, stroking your thumb against his cheek.

“Only for you,” he shakily exhales.

Your stomach flutters in excitement and you grin at his words. Using your hand and mouth simultaneously, you suck and stroke Johnny until he’s a complete mess under your touch. Your gags and lewd, obscene noises bounce off the four walls mixed with Johnny’s noisy moans and breathless pants only for it to be muffled by the blaring music downstairs. Your saliva drools from your mouth and onto the carpeted floor under you as you continue to bob your head up and down.

Johnny holds the sides of your head, keeping you in place as he bucks his hips roughly into your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” Johnny says through clenched teeth, every word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust. “You’re all mine, right?”

You quickly nod your head, allowing him to use you as he pleases.

“Say it,” he orders, pulling on the roots of your hair to make eye contact with him, cock still stuffed into your mouth.

“I’m all yours,” you attempt to repeat, your words distorted causing his cock to twitch before he thrusts into your throat.

Your jaw begins to ache and you’re sure you’ll be feeling the aftermath in your throat tomorrow morning, but you don’t care. The only thing you’re focused on is getting Johnny to ecstasy — and you do.

His thick warm, velvety ropes flood your mouth and you swallow it with ease, making sure to suck him dry of every drop he has. Placing your hand on his thighs, you rub his skin to smooth his quivering legs before he pulls you into a deep kiss.

There’s a pounding on the bedroom door before Johnny’s name is shouted on the other side. He quickly stands, pulling his underwear and pants up as you fix your appearance in front of a mirror in the room.

He quickly wraps an arm around your waist before pulling you away from the mirror and causing you to softly laugh before he unlocks the door.

“C’mon you horny bastards,” Johnny’s friend, Yuta, sighs. “We’re leaving. The party is getting out of hand downstairs.”

[Friday, 6:18 PM]

After long weeks of work, both you and Johnny look forward to the weekends where you both can indulge in the moments you have with each other, alternating between staying over his place and him staying over yours — this time, at his.

You text Johnny to let him know you’re outside, something you found strange considering you always used the spare key he’s given you.

The door flies open and you’re greeted by Johnny, eyes sparkling with excitement and a childlike smile is plastered across his face.

“Hey baby,” he greets, quickly grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Hi,” you giggle. “What’s going on?”

“Can’t I be happy to see you?” He pouts, taking your overnight bag and placing it on the nearest chair.

“You can be, but there’s something…” you pause, squinting your eyes suspiciously. “Different today.”

Johnny happily sighs, caressing your cheeks before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I have something for you in our room,” he says, lips pressed against your forehead before taking your hand and leading the way.

“Our room?” You swoon, gripping onto his arm.

“Yes, our room,” he chuckles. He takes a sharp inhale before he turns the door knob.

You’re greeted with a makeshift picnic set up on the bedroom floor.

“The weather has been shit lately and work has been taking up our time, but I know that you’ve always wanted a picnic date, so I had to improvise.” He nervously bites down on his bottom lip. “I hope it’s okay? If not -”

You pull him into a kiss, surprising him before he quickly adjusts to your movements. He slowly pulls away, Johnny’s cheeks blushing a pink tint.

“It’s more than okay,” you smile. “It’s sweet, thank you.”

He kisses the tip of your nose before leading you to the picnic blanket and having you both take a seat.

You eye the food he’s made, all of them being your favorite.

“Also,” he says, pulling a bouquet of your favorite flowers from the inside of the picnic basket. “Got these for you.”

You lift your head, smiling and gushing at the gesture before reading the mini card attached to it that reads: I'm really embarrassed it took me this long to ask this, but will you (finally) be my girlfriend? - J

Johnny looks at you embarrassed as he bites down on his bottom lip. “I didn’t realize I hadn’t officially asked you to be my girlfriend because I’ve been used to already calling you my girlfriend. It wasn’t until a coworker asked how I asked you out that I realized I didn’t. I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I swear I would’ve asked you like three months into us meeting.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, playfully hitting him with your flowers. “But this is really sweet, thank you baby.” Pulling him into a hug, you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes,” you laugh, playfully poking him in the stomach.

“Good,” he whispers, stroking your back. “Because I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “I love you, too.”

── Fall

[Saturday, 4:36 PM]

Johnny wraps his long arms around your waist, pecking kisses on the back of your head. A whiff of his signature cologne fills the air around you as you wash the remaining dishes in the sink before Johnny’s friends come by to carpool to a friend’s wedding.

Johnny carefully moves the soapy dish from your grasp before removing the bright pink gloves from your hands.

“Honey, what are you doing?” You ask suspiciously, watching him smoothly slide the gloves off your fingers.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” he whispers into your ear. “How your ex’s were nothing but selfish when it came to pleasing you.”

You recall the conversation you had last night — Johnny asking why you refuse to let him eat you out when he always begs to taste you while you’re giving him head. You intimately share your inexperience because your previous partners never bothered to please you in that way — making Johnny your first. He simply nodded before changing the subject.

You're unaware he’s been thinking about it — until now.

Johnny pulls you into his pelvis, feeling his large bulge, through his dark slacks, press against your back.

“Mm. What about it?”

Johnny slowly hikes up your sage green satin dress, exposing your cute lace black thong that he begged you to wear today.

“While I think it’s a shame you’ve never been eaten out before, I’m glad you haven’t.” His palms rub up and down your exposed skin, giving your ass a nice, hard slap before roughly groping you and rubbing your skin to soothe the sting.

“Why’s that?” You softly question as your hands grip the edge of the sink.

Johnny’s palm slides against your stomach before dipping between your thighs. His middle finger rubs against your clothed clit. His lips lift into a smirk as he nuzzles his nose behind your ear.

“I get to be the first and last person to taste you.” His voice is low, husky, and confident.

In one swift move, he turns you to face him before he lifts you onto the kitchen counter and places soft kisses against your collarbone — well aware of how long you spent doing your makeup for the event.

“Let me show you how good it feels,” he softly begs. “How good I can make you feel.”

“Now?” Your eyes widen in surprise. “But your friends?”

“I don’t care,” he mutters against your skin. “All I care about is making you feel good.”

Your lips slightly part at his offer before you nod.

“Use your words, baby.” He softly instructs. “Can I show my pretty girl how good it feels?”

“Yes please,” you gulp.

“Good.” Johnny sinks to his knees, tilting your pelvis up for better access to your fluttering sex. Extending one leg onto the countertop, Johnny slings your other leg over his broad shoulder before pushing the thin fabric aside to expose your pussy — something he’s been dying to see and taste for months now.

Without hesitation, he spreads open your folds before devouring you like a starved dog. His tongue laps over your clit, circling around the sensitive bud before sucking on it.

“Taste so good,” he groans, eyes closed and focused as he licks up your wetness against your slit before returning his attention to your clit, quickly flicking the tip of his tongue against it.

Your whimpers turn into loud moans as you feel his tongue work its way around your needy pussy. You bite down on your bottom lip, feeling your core tighten at the satisfying feeling coursing through your body.

Johnny guides your hand to the top of his head, silently giving you permission to grab a fist full of his hair which you do.

“Feels so good,” you mumble under your breath, tugging on his hair to keep him close.

Johnny sucks on your clit, his eyes lifting to watch bliss wash over you — your jaw falling open before you capture your bottom lip between your teeth, brows knitting together, and watching your pretty eyes rolling back from pleasure.

The tension in your core snaps, every muscle in your legs and thighs tighten, and your toes curl when a tingling sensation strikes. You gasp as you reach your climax, fingers tugging on Johnny’s hair to keep him in place as you roll your hips against his tongue, using him to ride out your high.

His movements slow, using the pace of your hips as an indicator of when to stop.

You retract your hand from his hair and your chest moves up and down, trying to catch your breath.

Johnny places soft, sweet kisses against your thighs before using the back of his hand to wipe your slick off his chin. He readjusts your pretty underwear before helping you off the counter and quickly rinses off and dries his mouth in the kitchen sink before giving you a kiss on your temple.

“T-thank you,” you shyly let out — quickly smoothing out your dress and swiftly fixing Johnny’s hair.

Before he could respond, the front door bell rings. “Always impeccable timing,” Johnny smirks before he goes to open his front door to greet his friends.

[Saturday, 7:26 PM]

During the wedding reception, you watch as guests dance to some early 2000s tracklist the DJ mixed together as you sit at the table you and Johnny were assigned to with his friends.

“Do you guys want anything? We’re gonna get something to drink,” Doyoung asks, his eyes flickering between you and your boyfriend.

“No thank you,” you smile before feeling Johnny’s hand press against your lower back.

Johnny simply shakes his head and Doyoung leaves with his other friends to the open bar. Your boyfriend quickly leans into you.

“Come with me to the restroom,” he whispers, lightly tugging on your arm.

“What?” You chuckle. “Why do I need to go to the restroom with you?”

“I need to taste you again,” he simply states, pushing your hair behind your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. I’m fucking addicted,” he whispers in your ear.

With enough of a reason — in your eyes — you both stand up and you follow Johnny into the nearest family restroom. The next thing you know, you’re bent over the sink with your dress bunched around your waist and a leg lifted over the counter.

Johnny’s on his knees, behind you, with his thick cock in his hand — pumping up and down his shaft as he licks your drenched pussy.

“So fucking good,” he growls, fist tightening around his erection, pumping faster as his tongue matches his speed — pulling you towards your orgasm at an embarrassingly quick pace.

You’re a whining mess, your hot breath fogging up the mirror in front of you. “I’m gonna cum,” you softly cry out, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand to keep you quiet.

Both of his hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he rapidly pulls an intense orgasm out of you.

Without a second thought, you sink to your knees when Johnny stands and you take his erection into your mouth, rolling your tongue over his swollen mushroom tip before you stroke him until he finishes — his cum painting over your tongue.

“You know,” you chuckle as you touch up your makeup in the mirror. “You could’ve just fucked me. I wouldn't mind.”

Johnny readjusts his suit, tucking his white button up long sleeve shirt into his black dress pants before fixing his belt. He smiles at your words.

“While I’d love to do that,” he sucks the air between his teeth. “I don’t want our first time to be in a random hotel restroom.”

You coyly look down at your heels, unable to argue with him before he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You deserve more than a quick fuck for our first time,” he smiles at you through the mirror.

[Sunday, 5:13 PM]

You smooth out your dress in the mirror when Johnny appears behind you.

“You look very pretty,” he smiles, placing his hands on your shoulders before sliding his palms down your arms. “How’re you feeling?”

“Nervous.” You swallow hard before Johnny’s arms engulf you into a hug. “What if your parents don’t like me?”

“They’ve been dying to meet you,” he chuckles. “They always ask about you whenever I go to visit them, telling me to bring you the next time I come over.”

You hesitantly nod your head, nervously fiddling with your finger tips before Johnny turns you to face him, lifting your chin to meet your eyes.

“Even if they don’t like you, which they will, it won’t stop me from being with you. We’re in it for the long run, right?” He lifts his pinky up, waiting for you to interlock yours with his. When you do, he places an endearing kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon baby, we don’t wanna be late.” He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you out the front door.

When you arrive, you cling on to Johnny’s arm. You thumb over his skin, trying to soothe yourself before the front door swings open and Johnny’s mom pulls him into a hug before she excitingly does the same with you.

“Ah! So glad you could make it!” Johnny’s mom claps, grabbing your hand and leading you into her home.

Throughout the night, you meet Johnny’s side of the family who welcome you with open arms. As you’re speaking to his cousin, you feel Johnny behind you, snaking his arm around your waist before excusing you from the conversation you’re having.

“I wanna give you something,” he whispers in your ear, pulling you up the stairs.

Johnny pushes a bedroom door open to reveal his childhood room that seems like it hasn’t been touched in ages.

“Wow, this is where the other half grew up, huh?” You smile, slowly walking through his room and scanning his walls — eyeing Johnny’s medals and awards from his school days.

Johnny doesn’t say a word, but he flashes a grin in your direction before he pries open a drawer from his old desk, fishing for an envelope before turning back to you.

“Promise me you won’t laugh,” he warns, taking a seat on his old twin sized bed.

“I promise I’ll try not to laugh.” Taking a seat next to him, you’re eying the worn out envelope in his hand. “What’s that?”

“When I was in high school, my first girlfriend broke up with me and I was devastated.” He chuckles to himself. “So, caught up in my emotions, I wrote a letter to give to the person I’m serious about.”

“Serious?” You pause, confused. “Like long term serious?”

“Like ‘til death do us part serious,” he laughs before nervously clearing his throat. “I thought I’d give it to you.”

Your brows slightly lift in surprise as you carefully take the envelope between your fingers. “You didn’t think about giving it to your other partners before me?”

“None of them met my parents,” he softly nudges you with his elbow, a shy smile dancing on his lips. “I used that as an indicator to see if I was serious enough about them. Clearly none of them made the cut.”

Your heart swoons at his confession. “Should I open it?” You giggle, flipping the envelope over to see the sealed flap.

“Do you want to open it?”

You think about it for a moment, your fingers playing with the edge of the sealed flap, tempted to rip it open, but instead you let out a small sigh.��

“Not yet,” you smile at your boyfriend. “Since we are in it for the long run, I’ll open it when we decide to take the next step. If that’s okay with you?”

“That sounds like a plan.” He rubs your knee, nodding his head. “Just don’t laugh at the horrendous spelling and grammatical errors when you do, please.”

“Now that is something I can’t promise.”

── Winter

[Saturday, 8:47 PM]

“Okay, ready?” You shout to your boyfriend from the en suite bathroom. “Are your eyes still closed?”

“Yeah!” Johnny shouts back, back resting against the pillows that line the bed’s headboard with his eyes shut. He’s in nothing but his underwear — something you requested for tonight.

Emerging from the bathroom, you carefully climb onto your shared bed. You sit on your knees, facing your boyfriend. A nervous bubble forms in the pit of your stomach before you tell him to open his eyes.

Johnny’s eyes flutter open, jaw dropping at the sight of you in a raunchy two piece white lace lingerie set that you paired with a white wedding veil you got from a friend’s bachelorette party.

“Wow,” he breathes — for the first time, you’ve rendered him speechless.

“Okay, I will admit maybe the veil is too much but,” you pause, getting on all fours to lean in and place a soft kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek. “I think it sort of ties it together. Don’t you think so?”

He absentmindedly nods his head, too distracted by the way the delicate fabric wraps around your body perfectly — almost like it was meant for you and only you.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when your lips press against his. His breath hitches before he pulls away shyly — his head spinning as blood rushes straight to his cock.

“What’s wrong?” You pout, heart sinking. “You don’t like it?”

“No!” He gives you a small chuckle. “I love it, I really, really do. I think I love it a little too much.” He looks down at his crotch, the fabric tenting above his erection.

You lick your lips, biting down on your bottom lip. “Cute,” you smirk before you straddle his lap, his shaft pushing against your clit. Your lips hover over his — a mischievous smirk pulling on the corner of your mouth before you slowly move your hips against him.

“I love you,” Johnny mumbles, his hands guiding your hips. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

“Yeah?” You giggle. “Why don’t you show me how much you love me?”

Johnny cups the back of your neck to pull you into a hard kiss. He gropes every crevice of your body — his rough hands sliding over your exposed skin. He mouths the crook of your neck, licking and sucking your skin to ensure marks appear the next day.

In one swift move, you’re under him. He quickly removes the only fabric he has left on his body and the tip of his painfully hard cock presses against your clit.

Johnny licks his index and middle finger before pushing aside the fabric and circles your sensitive bud — surprised at how wet you are. He dips both fingers inside of you, slowly pumping his digits into your soaking hole. His movements gradually speed up and his palm slaps against your needy bud. The squelches of your wetness mixed with his movements fill the room and a string of moans to part your lips.

Johnny’s jaw falls as he watches you squirm under him, enjoying every second of it — the way your eyes roll back, the way your back arches that makes his fingers move deeper inside you, the way your fingers dig into his wrists thinking you could muster the strength to slow him down.

“Cum on my fingers baby,” he orders through clenched teeth. “Give it to me.”

An overwhelming sense of pleasure washes over you that has your heart pounding against your chest and your thighs quivering from bliss.

Johnny’s movements slow, giving your sensitive clit a few rubs before aligning his tip with your entrance.

“Do you still want me to keep the promise I made?” He asks, referring to the first time you gave him a blowjob.

“I’d be upset if you don’t,” you giggle. “Don’t hold back, baby. I’ve been waiting for this.”

With your permission, Johnny slowly fills you with his cock — he hisses as he feels your pussy grip around him.

Your nails dig crescent shape indents into his forearm as he sinks deeper into you, face burning with heat.

When he finally bottoms out, he presses gentle kisses against your cheek right before he sharply snaps his hips into you causing you to cry out in pleasure at the sudden sensation.

“Gonna fuck you ‘til you’re craving it,” he warns through gritted teeth. “ Every night.” Each word is punctuated with a brutal thrust into you.

“P-Please,” you manage to let out, feeling your cunt continue to drip from arousal.

Johnny grips your waist, his hips ruthlessly striking against your skin.

“Baby,” you whimper, pushing your palm against his abs.

He smirks down at you, pinning your wrist against your stomach. “You said don’t hold back,” he grunts. “I’m doing what you asked.” He pushes your knees to your chest, your legs hanging over a shoulder as he bends forward — his mouth hovering over yours.

“Want me to stop?” He asks.

“No!” You quickly retort.

“Want me to go slower?”

“No…” you shyly reply.

“What do you want?”

“To make you proud.”

You’ve piqued your boyfriend’s interest. “And how are you going to do that?” He questions with a wicked grin.

“Take it like a good girl.”

Johnny doesn’t say it, but he finds it absolutely fascinating how you manage to make him speechless when it’s usually the other way around. Instead, he hungrily rams into you while watching you chase your high.

His pelvis hits your clit repeatedly as his cock’s head kisses your g-spot with every single thrust.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, hands on either side of Johnny’s neck, holding him close to you. “I’m gonna -”

“I know,” he chuckles.

Your face grows hot and your skin prickles. There’s a fire in your abdomen and you feel yourself losing what’s left of your composure. You attempt to cover your face only to have Johnny pin your wrists to the sides of your face.

“It’s not nice to cover your face,” he scolds. “Especially when you’re so fucking pretty when you’re about to cum. Go on baby, cum on my cock. Make me fucking proud.”

You quickly come undone, every muscle in your body tightens and you begin to see stars as Johnny fucks you through your intense orgasm.

“There you go,” he coos. “That’s my girl.”

Your body goes weak as you look up at your boyfriend with a cock drunk smile dancing on your lips. “Please cum inside of me,” you beg, bringing your hands to cup his jaw.

You watch as Johnny’s eyes darken at your words. He recklessly thrusts into you, balls harshly slapping against your ass. Johnny mutters incoherent nonsense when his hips stutter before you feel something warm fill you up.

“F-fuck!” He chokes out before you pull him down to your lips, muffling his cries as he empties himself inside of you.

His body collapses next to you, panting as he attempts to catch his breath. Johnny weakly pulls himself up to give you a tender kiss against your temple before he falls onto his back again.

“Promise me something,” he lets out.

“Anything,” you reply as you place your hands on your stomach.

“Promise me you’ll marry me.” He swallows hard before turning his head to look at you.

You turn your head to look at him. Your eyes scan his expression before you give him a small smile. “I promise.”

370 notes · View notes

wosospacegirl · 2 days ago

Text

And they were roommates - part 10

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate, Kyra, is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: (+18) SMUT. FINALLY SOME SMUT FOR THOSE TWO!! Plus, of course, Y/n getting her cast off, Kyra coming home, and Y/n finding out about Alessia and Leah.

Word count: 9.2k

Masterlist

You can read part 1 here

“How does it feel?” Mary asked, finishing up the last of the cast removal.

Beth and Lotte sat quietly across from Y/n. Their arms crossed as they watched her carefully from the seats in the rehabilitation room.

Y/n stared down at her leg–the bad one–as she had been calling it since it broke in half almost 3 and a half months ago. The cast had been a part of her for so long, and now, with it gone, the skin underneath it felt different…foreign.

It just didn’t look like she expected. The healing process through those three months hasn’t been easy or gentle; the damage of the injury was left behind, marked on her shin.

The skin on her leg was very dry and red, a mix of scars imprinted on it– some of them from when the injury itself occurred, others from the injury.

“So, sweetheart?” Mary asked again, more gently. This time.

Y/n hesitated, almost reluctant to speak her thoughts. “It looks–” She bit her lower lip. “Ugly.”

The room was silent as the word hung in the air.

“I’m sorry?” Mary asked again, confusion evident on her face.

Lotte and Beth looked at each other, not really sure of what to say.

“I don’t like it,” Y/n said again, more firmly. “I thought… I thought it would look like my other leg.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she hated herself for it. She looked down, avoiding Mary’s gaze.

Mary didn’t say anything, slowly turning to Lotte and Beth, and silently asking for some help. Y/n needed friendly words at the moment, not medical advice.

“I have to go to the infirmary to get some cream for your skin, but I’ll be right back,” Mary said as she headed to the door, leaving the three girls alone.

Lotte, noticing Y/n’s frustration, carefully slid onto the bed next to her, wrapping her arms around Y/n’s shoulder.

“Your leg’s been through a lot, baby,” Lotte said softly. “It broke in half, it tore your skin, your muscles–”

“It was a very traumatic injury to your body,” Beth finished Lotte’s sentence. “Scars are good, it means your body was able to heal properly.”

“You’re gonna get used to it,” Lotte smiled.

Y/n blinked a few times at the two girls, feeling grateful that they were trying to make her feel better, but unfortunately, the overwhelming wave of disappointment and frustration was stronger.

She imagined the day she was going to get her cats off was going to be different.

She thought the skin underneath the cast would be completely healed, but she didn’t expect the stiffness that came when she tried to move her leg; she didn’t expect the big scar that began on her ankle and grew all the way to her knee.

She’d also thought Kyra would be here with her. She’d imagined sharing this milestone with her, Leah and Alessia. Y/n loved Beth and Lotte to pieces, and she appreciated all the things they had done for her, but it still felt like important people were missing from this moment in her life.

Beth, sensing Y/n’s discontented attitude, placed a hand on her thigh and got down on her knees in front of her, looking closer at her leg.

“I get it, she said softly.” She touched the side of Y/n’s knee on two spots, right to the left side of the patella, on the anterior cruciate ligament– ACL. “It’s not easy seeing yourself change like this.”

“But trust me, you aren’t alone–me, Viv, Leah, and Vic, we all went through it,” Beth explained in a tender voice. “The side of our knee is all patched up, the skin around it’s all rough, just like your shin.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked up to Beth, grateful but still feeling the sting of the reality set in. She looked down at her leg, tracing her fingers gently over the scar that ran from her ankle all the way up to her knee.

“Leah got the worst of our scars because her surgery was more complicated and took longer,” Beth noticed the way Y/n’s gaze lingered on the scar, her voice softening as she continued. “But we didn’t have to wear any casts, so we just watched our scar and our legs heal little by little.

“You, on the other hand,” Beth said, gently touching the skin of Y/n’s healed scar. “Had your leg hide from your view, so you didn’t get to see it getting better day by day. You only just took the cats off.”

Lotte, sensing Y/n’s unease, added with a gentle smile, “You’re not used to it yet. It’s a lot all at once. The cast is off, and now you can move more freely, but you’ve got these new scars to accompany you. It’s a lot of change in a short time.”

“I’m scared that–” Y/n had a hard time processing her words. “If the outside looks like that, then maybe I’m not completely healed on the inside too.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart,” Mary said while walking into the room.

Y/n squinted her eyes at her, she was a hundred percent sure Mary was listening to their conversation all along.

“Your scar is a bit rough given the nature of your injury, but it doesn’t look swollen or have any indication that you won’t heal properly.” Mary got closer to Y/n, and Beth and Lotte went back to their previous seats.

Mary touched Y/n’s shin, pressing it and lifting it off the ground. “Does it hurt when I do that?”

“No,” Y/n shook her head. “It just feels very stiff, and it's kind of uncomfortable, but it doesn't hurt.”

“Yeah, that’s expected,” Mary said, tapping Y/m’s tights. “You’ll be back on the pitch in no time. Don’t let a little scar get in the middle of that, okay? I’ve treated a lot of athletes with broken bones, and most of them had a really good recovery.”

That gave Y/n a little hope. She smiled at Mary, watching her leg as she slowly moved it. Taking the cast off was one more step into her recovery; it might not be the scenery Y/n expected, but she was grateful for it overall.

Mary went to the cupboard on the other side of the room and came back with a grey shin brace. “You’re free from the cats, but this,” she pointed at the brace. “It’s going to be your new friend.”

Y/n groaned. “Bloody hell, I really thought I was a free woman now.”

Both Leah and Beth laughed at Y/n’s joke, feeling at ease that the girl didn’t seem so sad now.

“You can take it off to shower and bathe only, ok?” Mary got on her knees and put the shin brace on Y/n. “It is way more flexible and light than the cast, so you can move around and walk with your crutch all you want.”

“But I can’t have you bending your knee or putting pressure on it, alright?” Mary thighed the shin brace around Y/n’s leg, making sure it wouldn’t be loose. “And, for the love of God, don’t walk on your own, we’re keeping your crutches for a reason.”

“Do I have to wear both crutches, though?” Y/n asked. “And can I stand on my own? Or do I have to use my crutches for that too? I just–I really miss cooking,” she confessed, a slight blush on her cheeks.

“You can just wear one,” Mary said, getting up and taking a final look at Y/n. “You can stand, just try not to be up for long periods of time, we don’t want too much pressure on your leg just yet.”

“Alright,” Y/n said, looking down at her leg, now with the shin brace on, she moved it side to side, tasting the water. “Yeah, it's way better than the cast.”

Mary gave her the last bits of instructions and medical advice before telling her to come back the next day for her first session of physiotherapy without the cast.

Beth was a sweetheart as always and dropped Y/n off at her place. Y/n promised to bake a cake for her as a ‘thank you’.

Y/n waved at Mrs Petunia from her front door before heading inside her house, Footy was meowing exasperatedly as soon as he heard Y/n’s keychain.

Y/n couldn't pet him down because of the crutches, but made sure to fill his bowl with food before laying her down on the sofa and stretching her leg into a pillow.

She took her phone and quickly zoomed in on Footy before taking the picture and sending it to Kyra. ‘Son if fed’ she wrote. Kyra wouldn't reply to her until later, because, if Y/n remembered her schedule correctly, she was in a tactical meeting with her manager.

Y/n looked around the room, thinking of what she should do next. Watching TV? Too boring; reading a book? She already read all the ones she had in the house; cooking? Hmm, maybe later.

She watched her leg, moving it to the side again, making sure she still had the ability. Y/n wanted to share this moment with Kyra, but she also wanted it to be a surprise for her when she came back. Y/n still needed to tell someone about it, though… who was the chosen one?

Leah.

Y/n looked at the clock. Leah was definitely out of training by now, most likely in her room getting ready for bed–that meant playing Sudoku.

She clicked on the FaceTime app before and stared at her face, waiting for Leah to pick up. In less than a few seconds, Leah1s face was on the screen, but she looked…anxious?

“What happened?” Leah asked, Y/n could barely see her face or where she was, the lighting was horrible, and Leah was holding the camera weirdly close to her face; Y/n couldn’t see the background. “Why are you calling?”

Okay, that was too harsh even for Leah. Something was going on.

"Uh... hi to you too," Y/n muttered. "Are you busy or something?"

"No," Leah said quickly–too quickly. "Just... What's going on? Why are you calling?"

"Wow, okay." Y/n huffed. "Nice to know you care."

Leah sighed heavily. "I'm just–” she cut herself off, glancing to the side for a second before snapping her eyes back to the screen. "–sorry, never mind. What's up?"

"I got my cast off today." Y/n frowned and said hesitantly.

"That's good," Leah said, her voice clipped.

"Yeah," Y/n agreed, feeling a little deflated. "It... doesn’t look great, though."

"What do you mean?" Leah asked, still sounding rushed.

"It’s all red and stiff, and the scar is huge. I don’t know, I just thought it would look... better." Y/n paused, noticing Leah glance to the side again. "Hm, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I’m listening," Leah snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "I just–look, your leg is fine. That’s what happens when you get injured. It’s not gonna look pretty, but you’ll be back on the pitch soon enough."

"Yeah, thanks for the heartfelt support," Y/n shot back, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "I knew I could count on you for comfort."

"I’m just being realistic," Leah said sharply. Her eyes flicked away from the screen again, and Y/n caught the shadow of movement behind her.

"Okay, what’s going on?" Y/n asked suspiciously. "You’re acting weird."

"I’m not acting weird."

"You’re literally refusing to look at me and snapping like I just insulted your mum, or something.” Y/n shot back. “You can talk to me, you know?”

"I’m just– " Leah cut herself off with an irritated groan. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to be short with you. I'm just... distracted."

"Distracted by what?" Y/n pressed.

Leah’s eyes flicked sideways again. "Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar," Y/n muttered.

"I am not!" Leah protested, her face reddening.

"You are," Y/n said smugly. "And whatever’s going on over there–it’s weird."

"It's not weird," Leah insisted.

"You're holding your phone like it's a security camera, Leah. I can’t even see half your face, mate,” Y/n said. “Look, I can call later if you want? Or maybe tomorrow?”

Just then, Y/n caught a muffled voice from behind Leah’s screen– “Tell her I have the perfect cream for the scar, baby, it’ll work wonders…”

Leah stiffened, her eyes flicking nervously to the side.

"Oh fuck…" Leah turned the camera to the side quickly, just as Y/n leaned in closer to the screen, her brow furrowed in complete confusion.

"Wait a second," Y/n said, squinting. "Is that... Alessia?"

Leah's gaze darted to the side again, her face turning an unattractive shade of pink. "What? No! You didn’t hear anything." Her voice was quick and defensive.

"Oh, I definitely heard Lessie," Y/n said, crossing her arms. "She even mentioned my scar, which–" Y/n paused, her eyes narrowing.

"–wait a minute. I did see that story Alessia posted the other day,” Y/n said, mouth open as she had an eureka moment.

“I thought you guys were on a date, but then I thought I was going crazy because…how the hell would you two be dating?” Y/n continued, everything finally making sense in her head: The story, Leah’s weird attitude, the way Less and Leah were always together and bickering like an old couple.

Leah’s eyes widened, and she quickly cleared her throat, her voice low.

"You’re imagining things, Y/n. It’s just—" She cut herself off, her frustration bubbling over, and then, she gave up, one hand coming to hold the bridge of her nose as the other one held her phone.

"I didn’t want to tell you yet, alright?” Leah continued, cranky. “Happy now?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "So you are dating." She leaned closer to the screen, amusement in her eyes. "And you're being all weird about it because Alessia’s there…look at you, Williamson, all cute and nervous.”

Leah’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she bit her lip, eyes flicking away, clearly embarrassed. "It’s... not what you think," she mumbled, looking guilty.

“I think it’s exactly what I think, actually.” Y/n leaned back into the sofa, grinning now that she was fully enjoying the moment.

Leah didn’t say anything, but Y/n could see her jaw tighten, like she was already regretting answering the call.

“Don’t worry, I totally get it,” Y/n continued, tapping a thoughtful finger against her chin. “If Kyra and I were on the same national team, we’d definitely be roomies. One hundred percent. No doubt.”

“In fact,” she added, voice dripping with faux innocence, “I’m just waiting until I get better so we can have a proper sleepover—me, Kyra, you, and Less! Oh, it’ll be adorable.”

Leah rolled her eyes, but Y/n wasn’t done.

“Shut up,” Leah grumbled, but instead of arguing, she tilted the camera away from her face…revealing Alessia sitting beside her.

Alessia, who was already smiling.

Leah, who had an arm casually slung around her.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” Y/n beamed, waving at the screen. “Hi, Lessie!”

Alessia laughed, leaning into Leah like this whole thing was hilarious. “Hey, Y/n,” she said brightly.

Leah huffed, clearly defeated, as Y/n grinned at them both.

Oh yeah. This was definitely exactly what she thought.

Y/n saw the screen shaking before, only Alessia's face was on the screen, the happiness on her face a clear contrast to Leah’s crumpy one. “I heard you got your cast taken off! I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, baby. Thank you,” Y/n said, picking up a pillow that had fallen on the floor and putting it behind her back. “I’m just with a shin brace now, but it’s way better than the cast.”

"You’re already looking way better! The brace is nothing compared to that cast. You’re gonna be back on the pitch in no time, baby,” Alessia smiled.

“Yeah, Mary told me–”

Alessia’s face was replaced by Leah, who had a clear frown on her face.

“Give me Lessie back,” Y/n said flatly. “Don't want you.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “You literally called me to talk about the cast removal.”

“And now I know to never call again!” Y/n shot back, half-teasing. “You’re grumpy, I’m not even as cranky as you are. Don’t know how you pulled such a sweetheart like Alessia.

“The same way you, the disciplined one, pulled the prankster of the team,” Leah smirked.

Y/n grinned, resting her head on the pillow, eyes glinting with mischief. "I guess we all have our types."

“But seriously,” Leah said, her tone softening. “I’m very happy that you got that thing taken off. Just a few more months until we have you running again.”

Y/n nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. “Yeah, enjoy while you can. When I get back, you won’t be the fastest on the team anymore.”

Leah chuckled. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

When Y/n woke up on the last day, she followed her routine, but this time, she realised her life from now on was going to be way easier because as soon as she stepped on the floor, she didn’t have to carry the weight of the cast all the way to the bathroom.

Instead, she grabbed her crutches, moving slowly but much faster than when she had been in the cast.

As she stepped into the shower, she took off her shin brace with a sigh of relief. No more fussing with that annoying plastic wrap to keep the cast dry!

If yesterday she had been disappointed by how her leg looked, today she felt like kissing her calf for how much better–and easy–it was to do life without the cast.

For the first time in weeks, Y/n was actually able to cook herself a full recipe–she chose pancakes! It wasn’t as difficult as before; she could easily balance herself while flipping the batter, feeling happy by the accomplishment.

She had to hide all of her excitement from Kyra- she still didn’t want the girl to know about it– when she facetimed her hours later.

“You look weird…” Kyra said, squinting her eyes and getting comically close to the camera. “What's wrong? Did something happen to Footy?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and turned the camera to the little black cat who was still sleeping curled on the loveseat by the window. “He’s fine, come on!”

“Then what is it?” Kyra pressed, raising an eyebrow as she brought a mug to her lips, drinking what Y/n thought to be coffee.

“Nothing!” Y/n said defensively, “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

Kyra narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it. “I don't know, you just keep… showing your teeth for no reason–”

“That's called a smile, bro,” Y/n shot back, looking at Kyra emotionless.

“Yeah, but you never smiled this casually.” Kyra tilted her head, clearly intrigued.

Kyra’s gaze softened, but did not lose its suspicion. “Yeah…why?”

“I’m just happy!”

Y/n hesitated for a second before shrugging. “Can’t I just be happy?”

“Not when you’re hiding something,” Kyra leaned back into her chair, folding her arms. “Which you clearly are.”

“Ky! Please,” Y/n said, trying to think about some dumb reason to lie about, something that would actually make her happy. Something Kyra would totally believe.

“I just–” Y/n looked to her side, eyes lighting as she saw the perfect reason right in front of her. “I found a really good brand of peanut butter when I went grocery shopping with Lotte yesterday…down that little corner store I told you about.”

Kyra blinked, her expression deadpan. “Peanut butter?”

“Yeah! It’s life-changing, I swear!” Y/n said, her excitement growing, as she made up the biggest lie ever. “It’s smooth, creamy–not chunky. You know I hate when they’re chunky.”

Kyra stared at her before, brows still furrowed, “Really? That’s what’s making you so happy? Peanut butter”

Honestly, both girls had said peanut butter so many times that it was losing its meaning.

“Yes,” Y/n said, confident in her voice. “And…It’s also organic!” She added dramatically.

“Organic?” Kyra raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t all peanut butter organic?”

“No, Ky,” Y/n said, shaking her head as if she was ready to lecture a class. “Not all of them! This one doesn't have all those weird additives–it's pure peanut butter–just peanuts and palm oil. The label says the oil is ‘ethically sourced’, too.

“Ethically sourced peanut butter? What does that even mean?”

“It’s like peanut butter that is made with conscience,” Y/ns said seriously, without missing a beat. “They are processed while following rigorous environmental laws.”

“And since when did peanuts–” Kyra started, but then paused before shaking her head, “You know what? I’m just happy you‘re happy.”

They chatted a bit before Kyra had to go to training. They had only one more game to play before Kyra would go home.

If they lost to the USA, they would be placed second, and of course, the Matildas didn’t want that.

After a few more days, the SheBelieve cup had come to an end. The Matildas had beaten Colombia and Japan throughout the last two weeks, but they ended up losing to the United States team, which made them runners-up.

Kyra videochatted Y/n after the loss, clearly upset, but after a few hours talking with Y/n and her teammates, she calmed down and was able to smile a bit.

After two whole weeks without Kyra, she was finally coming home in less than an hour.

If Y/n could bounce on her feet, she would be doing that now, her eyes glued to the clock in the kitchen. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t nervous–but she was, and Y/n didn’t understand the reason why.

She was happy that Kyra was coming back home, thrilled even, but that feeling was mixed with something heavier–anxiety, maybe? Fear that Kyra would look at the missing cast on her legs and…not like her anymore.

Why would Kyra not like Y/n now that she didn’t have the cast on? No clue, Y/n couldn’t even think of a good reason, but that didn’t ease her nervousness. It’s been two weeks, and Y/n was scared that something was going to change between her and Kyra.

She and Kyra had only been together for the period Y/n had the cast on. Would things in her relationship change much? Would they change at all? Would their routine change?

There were a lot of questions running through her mind at the same time, and the noise of the clock’s hand moving was making her even more anxious.

Y/n sat on the table, smoothing down her shirt for what felt like the ninth time, her gaze flicking from the clock, to the door, to the table set in front of her.

Y/n had tried to do something different. She wasn’t very good at expressing how she felt with words, so she tried to do it with actions.

She had set the table hours ago–impatient much? Lit candles were sitting right in the middle of the table; all the lights in the dining room were turned off, and the only source of lighting came from the candles.

She had made pasta, it was easy, she didn't have to stand up for long, and it was one of Kyra's favorite dishes, so it just felt right.

Y/n had also bought wine. She actually didn’t drink alcohol–scared that the alcohol could lower her performance in the long run somehow–but today she would allow herself that.

She stared at the bottle of ‘Priorat’ sitting right beside the candle. It was a type of red wine made out of black cherries. She had bought it from a vintner, and he had said it had a tannic flavour to it.

Y/n wasn't sure what tannic was or what it tasted like.

She just hoped Kyra liked it.

Kyras was coming home. After two whole weeks without her, she was coming home.

She texted Y/n 5 minutes ago letting her know she had just got into a taxi at the airport and was on her way home. It would probably take 20 minutes before Kyra arrived.

Y/n looked down at her leg and tried to flex her ankle, like she had been doing every day since she removed the cast, just to feel the freedom of movement. It didn’t hurt–not really, but the lingering stiffness was still there.

Mary had told her it would feel like that for a good whole month, even with physiotherapy. It was just the natural healing processes of the bones and muscle fiber, but still, she wanted to be able to walk around without her crutch soon.

The notification on her phone brought Y/n out of her thoughts. It was Kyra saying she was close.

Y/n quickly went to the mirror on the far side of the dining room, checking herself one last time. Her hair was in check and her outfit too: a green shirt and white t-shirt; something easy to take off–she had to think about after dinner too.

And just like that, Y/n heard the key on the door turning.

Y/n turned around, quickly getting her crutch. She adjusted her grip. Tucking it snugly under her arms before moving toward the front door.

Kyra’s back was to her, her suitcase parked by the door as she fiddled with the lock.

Y/n didn't waste anything before she shifted her weight onto her good leg, planting her crutch firmly against the floor for balance. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Kyra from behind, pressing her face into the fabric of her hoodie.

Y/n breathed in and out, feeling Kyra’s shampoo fill her nose. Suddenly, relief washed over her.

She missed Kyra, she missed her scent, her laugh, her smile, her hugs.

Everything. But now she was here.

“Hey, pretty,” Kyra said, trying to turn around, but y/n held her tight. “I leave for a fortnight and you’re giving bear hugs now, what else? Let me guess, did your leg heal or–”

As if this was the cue Y/n was waiting for, she let loose of her hold on Kyra, letting the girl turn around. She watched Kyras' soft eyes, the way they squinted when she smiled.

Kyra didn’t notice her leg, not yet, being too occupied looking at her eyes and well, at her mouth.

Y/n quickly cupped Kyra's face and brought her to a kiss, her crush long forgotten on the floor somewhere, her only source of balance was Kyra. Y/n clutched one hand on Kyra's hoodie while the other was placed on the back of Kyra’s neck.

Kyra deepened the kiss, savouring Y/n. She noticed how Y/n was a bit unbalanced, so she held her hips and gently brought her closer.

“Hi,” Y/n said, breaking the kiss just to meet Kyra’s lips again.

She felt Kyra smiling against her mouth, that's how they should always be, together, kissing, just the two of them.

“Miss me much?” Kyra asked, kissing Y/n’s cheek, and then travelling to the girl's jaw, where she sucked the skins softly.

Y/n couldn’t help but think about how much had changed in her world since Kyra came into it–the little things, like how there were no weird jokes to laugh at when Kyra wasn’t around, or how her nails looked far less neat because Kyra wasn’t there to paint them.

“Not much, no,” Y/n teased as she lifted her neck so Kyra could have more room, her lips warm and wet as they kissed Y/n’s skin.

“That’s not what you told me the numerous times we called,” Kyra murmured, placing a hand under Y/n’s shirt on her back, scratching the spot.

“Just kiss me, please,” Y/n murmured, looking up to Kyra.

“Just because you said please,” Kyra said, smiling, kissing her back, more slowly this time, trying to show through the kiss how much she hated being away from Y/n.

Playing for Australia was always an amazing experience, being on the field wearing her country's colour was a feeling Kyra could not put into words, especially when she was doing it with players she had known since she was basically a teen.

It felt good to play again after such a long time without an international break, but man, did she miss Y/n all the time she was in the US.

Kyra missed her grumpy remarks, missed having someone telling her she should eat more salad, missed having someone to brush and dry her wet hair for her, missed the massages Y/n used to do on her feet after a long day of training.

She was just happy to be home now.

After being away for two weeks, that’s what Kyra realised Y/n’s house was: her home, especially because Y/n and Footy were in it, waiting for her.

“I always knew you had a short attention span,” Y/n said, chuckling, taking her crutch back with one hand as she took a step back to better look at Kyra. “But this is getting ridiculous.”

“Ugh?” Kyra tilted her head, like a puppy who was still learning a new trick.

“Don’t you notice… anything different?” Y/n asked, lifting her eyebrows.

Kyra’s gaze drifted down her body, scanning her up and down, observing every inch of the girl. Her eyes lingered, brow furring, like she was piecing together a puzzle. Nothing caught her eye.

Y/n facepalmed herself.

“Hmm,” Kyra said slowly, hesitating in her voice. “Your hair looks so nice… I love the new…cut?”

“Kyra, baby,” Y/n said, pointing to her leg. “Cast it off! I didn’t get a hair–”

Before Y/n could finish her sentence, Kyra had already wrapped her arms around her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in a dizzying circle.

“What the fuck?” Kyra exclaimed against her shoulder, while still twirling her around. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” Y/n said cheekily.

“Wow–Okay,” Kyra said at a loss for words. “It worked, I’m very surprised… When did you take it off?”

“Lika last week–”

“Last week?! You took your cast off last week and you didn’t tell me!”

“Yes! That’s how you plan a surprise.”

“Your cast is off,” Kyra said once again, in disbelief.

“Yep” Y/n smirked. “and if im not misteken you said we’ll have sex once my cast was off so pretty plese can we fuck?”

“You’re so romantic, oh my god!” Kyra said sarcastically, but swiftly cupped Y/n's cheek in a deep kiss.

“But–we, hm,” Y/n tried to say between the kisses, but Kyra wasn’t letting go of her mouth, so she gently pulled her body so she could speak.

Kyra looked at her, sad, with a pout.

“As I was trying to say, first we need to eat,” Y/n said.

“I do want to eat,” Kyra said, a grin on her face, “Let me? Please?”

Y/n felt her heart skip a beat. Kyra wasn’t normally the one to say dirty things, but she always got along when Y/n did it.

So she flushed at the sudden boldness.

“I-I mean it like real food,” Y/n said.

Great, she stammered, guess that was her new personality right now.

“I made spaghetti–”

“spaghetti!?” Kyra said, losing all the devilish expression on her face, changing it to pure happiness. “I love spaghetti, baby!”

Kyra hugged her again, but more softly this time.

“I know you do,” Y/n laughed as Kyra kissed her in the ticklish spot on her neck. “Now let’s go before it’s cold.”

Kyra and Y/n stepped into the dining room. Kyra stopped, and her eyes flickered around the room. The warm light of the candles made the atmosphere of the room seem cozy.

The faint scent of something garlicky lingered in the air, it was coming from the plates already set out on the table.

“Baby!” Kyra said softly, turning to Y/n. “You did all of this?”

Y/n glanced at the table–the candles flickering gently, the wine glasses way too fancy for a casual dinner. Her face heated up; maybe she had overdone it, it really looked like a lot for just a ‘welcome home diner’.

Y/n shrugged one shoulder, suddenly finding the rug on the floor very interesting. “Just didn’t want you coming home to, like, cold pizza and soda or something.”

“It looks lovely,” Kyra said, cupping Y/n’s cheeks. “You are lovely.”

Y/n felt Kyra’s lips on her forehead, and for some reason, she felt embarrassed…exposed–like Kyra was seeing something she wasn’t ready to show–a part of her that was private, intimate.

Kyra grinned. “You know I would love some pizza. But this.” She pointed at the table, “This is amazing.”

“It’s just dinner,” Y/n said quickly, adjusting a candle that didn’t need adjusting,

“Sure, just dinner?” Kyra’s grin widening, leaning over Y/n, her breath warm against Y/n’s ear. “But a romantic one, maybe?”

“Stop it,” Y/n groaned, her cheeks on fire. “It’s just pasta and…wine.” Her eyes flickered back to the table, focusing on the stupid candle. Why had she lit them? It looked like a rom-com set up right in her dining room.

“I love it,” Kyra tugged Y/n closer, holding her by her waist. “And I love how you’re blushing right now–should've got that on camera.”

“I would never let you,” Y/n warned, but her voice lacked any real threat. She was too flustered, too warm and too aware of Kyras's smile pressing against her skin.

Y/n blushed as Kyra held out a chair for her. She almost refused–hating how formal Kyra was making it–but she didn’t want to ruin things with her grumpiness right when Kyra had just gotten home. She could handle thirty minutes.

Dinner passes in a blur of teasing smiles and that old, comforting and easy conversation Y/n and Kyra were used to.

They talked about everything that they had already talked over the phone because Kyra insisted on telling the same stories all over again, although Y/n didn’t mind hearing them, not when Kyra had that soft smile on her face the whole time.

Y/n shared about her routines, about the coffee dates with Lotte and Beth, and the video chats with Leah. How well behaved Footy was and how he had definitely not taken his well-behaved nature from Kyra.

Kyra begged Y/n to recreate that Lady and the Tramp movie scene, where both characters share one noodle, but Y/n said no grumpily, murmuring something about how each of them had a plate for a reason, all while putting hers closer to her chest.

Afterward, they ended up curled on the couch, Kyra’s arm lazily wrapped over Y/n’s waist while they shared a glass of wine.

“You don’t share food, but you share drinks?” Kyra asked as Y/n held out her glass to Kyra.

“Yes,” Y/n said stoically, feeling the warmth of the wine settling in.

“Hmm, good to know,” Kyra smiled, taking a sip. “I like it. It tastes good.”

Kyra passed the glass back to Y/n’s hands, as she took another sip, savoring it but feeling a slight tension building between them, as unspoken energy in the space.

The moment Y/n was waiting for so long was finally here.

With a confident smile, Y/n put the glass down on the coffee table and turned to Kyra, her movements slow and deliberate. She placed her hand on Kyra’s thigh as she wrapped her finger in the back of Kyra's neck, bringing her closer until their lips met.

The kiss was slow at first, Y/n was the one dictating it, turning Kyra’s face just the way she wanted while playing roughly with her tongue in a slow, but intense manner.

Her tongue brushed against Kyra’s. Tasting the lingering acidity of the wine of both of their tongues as Kyra let out a soft, almost imperceptible moan as their kiss deepened.

Y/n’s hand shifted, boldly pulling Kyra’s even closer as she pressed her body against hers. Every inch of space between them vanished in the moment.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Y/n murmured, placing her hand under Kyra’s shirt, feeling the softness of her skin.

“Me too,” Kyra whispered, tilting her head to the side, and Y/n kissed the side of her face slowly. “So much.”

“Did you think about me?” Y/n asked, caressing her fingers through Kyra’s back, watching as the girl shivered.

Kyra hesitated, but nodded, a blush on her face.

“I’m asking you, baby,” Y/n said, her tone sternly, but the soft touches of her hands against Kyra remained the same. “Talk to me, come on.”

“I did, a lot,” Kyra purred, the fabric of her shirt bothering her; she wanted to take it off, be free of everything standing in hers and Y/n’s way.

Y/n grinned, happy with Kyra’s response.

“I touched myself every night after I took the cast off,” Y/n confessed, tugging at the hem of Kyra’s shirt, but not taking it off. “Came a hundred times on my finger thinking about you.”

Kyra’s cheek went flush, and her eyes closed. “Y/n–fuck, the things you say–”

Y/n smiled as she watched Kyra, her mouth slightly open, her hips moving in very slow and almost imperceptible movements.

“Are you horny, Ky?” Y/n asked, taking her own shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the living room.

Kyra opened her eyes at Y/n’s voice, her eyes trailing Y/n’s torso, the red bra she was wearing, how they filled it perfectly. The girl placed her hands on Y/n’s ribcage, enjoying the view in front of her.

“I-I want you,” Kyra said in a low voice, too busy watching Y/n’s tits. Kyra’s thumb softly brushing on the center of the bra, feeling Y/n’s erect nipples. “Please?”

Y/n watched Kyra up and down, Kyra’s big brown eyes watching her as if she held the world in her hands.

“Here’s what we're gonna do, baby,” Y/n said as she held Kyra’s wrists and took them off her body, ignoring the way Kyra pouted. “I’m gonna take care of you now–”

“–And then we’re going to our room,” Y/n unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the sofa before she put it to the side, just like she did with her shirt. “And you’re going to fullfill your promise of fucking me as many times as I want, alright?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Kyra said eagerly, her eyes glued on Y/n’s breasts. They were soft and hung just the way Kyra liked them.

Y/n leaned forward and turned her body to Kyra, her good leg was crossed on the sofa while her bad leg was still, hanging over the sofa.

She had way more mobility since she had taken the cast off, but she still needed to be careful not to get carried away. The cast always reminded her of what movements she could or couldn't do, but now, without it–with only a shin brace on–it was easy to forget about her limitations.

“Good,” Y/n said hungrily before holding her one breast in her hand. “Now suck it.”

Kyra didn’t waste any time before wrapping her lips around Y/n's nipple, twirling her tongue around it and sucking dutifully, just like Y/n asked her too.

Kyra wasn’t expecting sex when she walked through the front door, still pretty much jetlagged. She had no clue Y/n had taken her cast off; she knew she was going to take it off sometime this month, but she didn’t know when.

As soon as Y/n showed her leg, now bare of cast, with only the grey brace on her shin, she felt a mix of emotions. The most overwhelming one was happiness.

Kyra was so proud and happy for Y/n, she was slowly going back to being who she was before the injury. She hoped that taking the cast off would get Y/n more excited. She tried to sound casual about it, but Kyra knew how much it bothered her being on the sidelines.

Although Kyra’s happiness quickly turned into something else as Y/n and she shared the bottle of wine.

She knew the moment was coming, the moment where they would finally have sex

Kyra just didn’t expect Y/n to be so intense and, well, bossy about it. She pictured their first time having sex as something sweet and slow, with Y/n and her being a bit awkward about the whole thing.

But it was far from the truth.

What they were sharing was intense, Y/n stern voice made Kyra want to drop to her knees at any time, but the slow breathing coming in and out of her nose while she sucked Y/n’s tit grounded Kyra, it made her relax, it was also…comforting, in some strange way.

Y/n caressed her thumb on Kyra’s cheek, watching Kyra's working on her tit while Kyra’s hand came to her other breast, massaging it and pinching the nipple.

Kyra had, so thoughtfully, put a pillow underneath Y/n so she could grind against it. The angle was a bit awkward since she could move both her legs the same, but the friction of the pillow was good enough to have her moaning,

Y/n took Kyra’s hand and placed them on her hips. Kyra understood right away what Y/n wanted, she kept on sucking on her tit while playing with the hem of Y/n’s shorts and so gently, helped rock the girl against the pillow.

Y/n pushed Kyra’s face even closer to her chest, holding her there by the back of her neck as Kyra’s grip on her hips became sharper. Y/n could feel her finger digging into the fabric of the shorts Y/n was still wearing.

She wanted to take her fucking shorts off, it felt so good against her clit, she coulnd’t stop now.

Y/n knew she had told Kyra she was going to take care of her, but she was going to allow herself one little orgasm, just one before they could really start.

“More, Ky,” purred, eyes closed as she felt it coming.

Kyra took her mouth off Y/n’s nipple, kissing all over her chest before pressing her chin on Y/n’s sternum and looking up to her face.

“More of what, Baby?” She asked, her grip firm on Y/n’s body, moving the girl so she could rub more against the pillow. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“Everything,” Y/n mumbled, starting to feel the usual warm sensation on her lower body growing. “Fuck, I-I, hmm–”

Kyra, again, obeyed Y/n. She wrapped her tongue on Y/n’s nipples again and sucked on it more intensely than before, noticing how much Y/n liked it. Her right hand was on Y/n’s back as her left hand helped Y/n ride the pillow beneath her.

Kyra felt a drop of sweet falling for Y/n’s neck and dropping slowly against Y/n’s skin. Kyra licked it, feeling the salty taste of it.

Right now, all she wanted was to watch Y/n come undone.

Kyra continued helping her move with her hands, but she placed her mouth near Y/ns ear.

“Let me take it off?” Kyra asked, tugging at the shorts.

“No,” Y/n mumbled in her usual bossy tone. “I’m almost there, ple–”

Kyra kissed Y/n deeply, twirling her tongue around, but as she got closer to being the one in control, Y/n’s hands found themself once again on Kyras face, cupping her cheeks and dictating the direction and pace of the kiss.

Y/n’s movements on the pillows got faster, and her breathing hitched as she arched her back and moaned in Kyras' mouth sweetly. They shared the same breath as Y/n came down for her orgasms, her hips still buckling.

“Ky,” she whispered against Kyra’s mouth, eyes still closed, mouth hanging slightly open. “Fuck–so good,”

Kyra kissed Y/n on the lips softly, before trailing small pecks on her forehead and then nose. Y/n had stopped moving her hips, so Kyra’s grip on her body loosened; instead of hard, her grip became comforting.

“Felt good?” Kyra whispered against Y/n’s neck, her lips leaving a heated trail down toward her collarbone, the warmth of her breath sending a wave of desire through Y/n.

Y/n didn’t respond immediately, her breath catching at the feel of Kyra's lips on her skin. Instead, she nodded, her eyes darkening with a mix of need and confidence.

Without wasting another moment, Y/n's hands slid down to Kyra's waist, pulling at her pants, a clear sign that she wasn’t going to wait for permission.

Kyra moved her hips so Y/n could fully take pants off, her underwear making its way to the floor alongside the other piece of clothing. Y/n didn’t waste any second before also taking her shorts and underwear too.

Now the only fabric between them was Kyra’s shirt. But Y/n decided to leave it on for now, wanting to focus on something else.

Y/n leaned over and kissed Kyra, biting Kyra’s lower lip gently, not sure if Kyra would like it if she drew blood, which was like Y/n wanted to do, so she chose the safe option.

“I’m gonna touch you,” Y/n whispered against Kyra’s mouth. “And I’m gonna fuck you until you’re whimpering.”

“I want that, please,” Kyra begged, feeling as Y/n cupped her cunt, already wet in need.

“I didn’t ask if you want it or not, love,” Y/n said, almost in a taunting tone. “I can feel how much you need me already.”

Y/n first circle her thumb around Kyra’s clit, rubbing it slowly and gently, tatsing the water to see how much Kyra could handle.

“Did you use your finger while you were away?” Y/n asked, pressinger her clit a little harder than before. “Did you play with your cunt?”

“Yes,” Kyra breathed, closing her arms and slowly moving her hips against Y/n’s thumb. “I-I touched myself in the shower.”

“Yeah?” Y/n teased while she lowered her fingers and gathered some wetness from Kyra’s hole before putting her attention back on Kyra’s clit. “What were you thinking?”

“Y-you,” Kyra mumbled, hesitant of her words. “You and me fucking and– touching each o–oh fuck.”

“Keep going,” Y/n said as she played with Kyra’s nipples, brushing them under the shorts while also making circles with her thumb against Kyra’s clit. “Where did we touch each other?”

“I don’t–it’s embarrassing.” Kyra blushed and shook her head.

“You can say it,” Y/n took her hand off of Kyra’s cunt. “Or I’ll stop, baby, what do you want?”

“No! Please!” Kyra begged, opening her eyes and looking at Y/n. “I want you.”

Y/n pitched Kyra’s nipple harder, her hand back on her clit, now making eight figures on it. “Then go on, tell me about what you thought while you were making yourself cum.”

“You, I was thinking about you and–” Kyra moaned as Y/n fastened her pace. “We were rubbing against each other while we, hm, fuck, touched eath other’s tit.”

“Would you like that, baby?” Y/n purred against Kyra’s ears as she lifted Kyra's shirt just enough for her to put her head under it.

She latched on one of Kyra’s nipples, sucking it hard, her thumb giving Kyra’s clit all the attention.

“Can-can i cum?” Kyra asked while biting at her lower lip, almost out of breath. “I-I need it baby, hmm, please?”

Y/n gave a kiss on Kyra’s nipple before taking Kyra’s neck, suckling on the skin until it was red, until it marked.

Kyra was so compliant that she did just that, cumming on the exact moment Y/n allowed her too.

“Yes, baby,” Y/n whispered against her skin. “Do it, let go, yeah?”

Her sweet noise filled the room as Y/n helped her ride her orgasm, still moving her thumb against the girl’s clit, trying to make her savor it for as much as she could.

“Too much,” Kyra mumbled, letting her body fall to the couch, hand on her face as she tried to get her breathing in order.

Y/n quickly cleaned her hands in one of the clothes that were on the floor before lying down by Kyr’s side, right on top of her other arm.

Y/n kissed Kyra’s arm, her shoulders and collarbone. She gently took off the hand that was covering her face, putting it to the side and watching Kyra’s face.

She looked like she just has been fucked, just the way Y/n intended.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Kyra mumbled, slight redness in her cheeks.

“But you’re so pretty,” Y/n smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “Especially after you cum.”

Y/n very slowly made her way to Kyra’s cunt again, it was all wet and messy, still.

Kyra held her hand before she could reach further down. “Sensitive,” she said in a whisper.

“Thought you might want more.” Y/n kissed her lips sweetly. “I’ll be gentle, yeah?”

Kyra hesitated, but nodded, and when her body relaxed, Y/n let one finger slide inside Kyra’s wall. It went in so easily, she didn’t even have to work Kyra up to it. That’s how wet and ready she was.

She felt the warmth of Kyra’s walls snuggling her finger, and she couldn't help herself but add a second. This time it didn't slide in like the first, but Kyra’s body still welcomed it overall.

Y/n put her head down on Kyra’s arm, which was still stretched down by her side. In that position, Y/n could see Kyra reacting to each of her movements.

The way her eyes rolled when Y/n took her fingers out just to thrust them again, and again and again, in a slow, but deep rhythm.

“You’re so wet,” Y/n murmured, turning her head just to kiss Kyra’s shoulder. “Wish you could feel yourself right now, such a wet cunt you have.”

Y/n felt Kyra clutch around her. “Oh, you like when I talk to you?” Y/n asked, moving her finger faster.

“Y-yes,” Kyra said, moving her hips to meet Y/n’s finger at the same time. “I’m close again.”

“Already, baby?” Y/n said teasing. “But I’ve barely touched you.”

Her warm walls were clutching even more now, as if ready to cum soon. Who would know her girl was so easy to cum, huh?”

“You’re just very needy, right?” Y/n asked as she added yet another finger, moving the three of them as she heard Kyra moaning.

“I-I know, I just–”

Kyra nodded while making an indecipherable sound, Y/n could only guess it was a ‘yes’. She kissed Kyra again, hand on her cheek, turning the girl’s head more to the side so she could deepen the kiss.

She was very close, her hips moved swiftly on Y/n’s finger, her hands were lying on fists by Kyra’s side.

“I wanna see you cum again, Ky,” Y/n purred, licking Kyra’s lips as the girl moaned. “Soak my fingers, go on.”

Kyra did just that, taking her hand to her own mouth and biting it hard to muffle the sounds of her orgasms, but Y/n wasn’t having it.

She took Kyra’s hand off her face and fastened the thrust of her fingers inside Kyra’s cunt, all while sucking Kyra’s bottom lip into her mouth.

Kyra came fast, feeling her skin prick with pleasure, her hips still rutting on Y/n’s finger, trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible.

Y/n kissed her sloppy, slowly taking her fingers off of Kyra, focusing on just kissing her mouth.

“You felt so good,” Y/n whispered, her voice low and smug, pride curling at the edges of her words. She shifted closer, pressing her body against Kyra’s side, and kissed her sweetly on the cheek, before leaving a heated trail down towards her collarbone. “I wanna do it all over again.”

Kyra turned her head to the side, still breathless and lightheaded from the two orgasms Y/n had just pulled from her– both in a ridiculously quick succession. Her limbs were still heavy and her head foggy, but she still managed to reach for Y/n, fingers slipping lazily into her hair.

“Hmm,” Kyra hummed, her eyes falling shut as she felt Y/n’s breath warm against her skin. “Of course you do…you’re like…a menace.”

“No, I’m not,” Y/n murmured, her lips curving against Kyra’s neck. “I’m just efficient.”

Kyra chuckled as her hands traced a lazy circle along Y/n’s waist.

“You know,” Y/n said, her voice low and teasing. “You promised me all sex in the world when I got my cast off.”

Kyra let out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t promise all sex in the world in one night.”

“Hmm,” Y/n kissed her way back to Kyra’s neck, pausing at her jawline. “Yes, you did.” Y/n made her way to Kyra’s warm, nipping at Kyra’s earlobe gently.

Kyra shifted beneath her, and a groan slipped out — but not the kind Y/n was aiming for.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Kyra murmured.

“How?” Y/n said teasingly. “We’ve barely done anything–you are a few years younger than me, I thought your sex drive would be better.”

“My sex drive is great”, Kyra grumbled. “When I don’t have to spend nine hours crammed in a plane seat next to Steph.”

"Yeah..." Y/n said, her fingers softening against Kyra's arm. "You must be wrecked."

“I’m fine,” Kyra said through a yawn. “Just need to close my eyes for, like, two minutes.”

“So we can have more sex after?” Y/n asked smugly, “That’s still not a no.”

“It's a ‘please, let me take a nap’.”

“Fine,” Y/n muttered, flopping dramatically onto her back. “I guess I’ll just lie here…cold…unloved…”

“Bloody hell,” Kyra laughed, pulling Y/n closer and tucking her head under her chin. “You’ve gotten so dramatic while I was away.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” Y/n grinned, pressing a kiss to Kyar’s collarbone.

“Yeah,” Kyra murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. “I already do.”

Notes: 10 chapters!! 52k words for this series <3 Thanks to everybody who stuck around haha I think we have like... two/three more parts until this series is over! I know the smut wasn't very long, but there will be more in the next chapter <3

Notes 2//: Please let me know what you guys think!!!

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#woso x reader #woso fanfic #kyra cooney cross #woso community #kyra cooney cross smut #kyra cooney cross x reader

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noctiva · 3 days ago

Note

omg hai me again! (first time anon…well, second time now)

i would KILL for those relationship hcs with toby, i love him so much, i wanna give him a good life :( poor guys honestly through so much ughhhhh

okay bai bai!

(im definitely gonna be back, maybe 🌝 anon? watch out :3)

I got you!! let’s get it!

—

Toby Rogers - Relationship HCs [SFW + NSFW!]

CW: NSFW content! Descriptions of and mentions of sexual acts, mentions of pregnancy and breeding, mentions of violence + murder, toxic behaviour, possessive + jealous behaviour, mentions of fighting w/ a partner (verbally and physically)

[PSA! I’m dividing this into two separate sections because I have two separate headcanons for toby dearest, as you can read about here!]

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

For me, how Toby would act in a relationship is dependent on if he’s retained his past memories or not! Let’s talk about both <3

Memories intact! [SFW]

A loverboy in the most fucked up sense of the word

Lives each day wondering how on earth he manage to land you, and is partially convinced you’re a figment of his imagination because of how goddamn perfect you are in his eyes.

Because of this, he is a bit… Clingy. When you first meet, all of the ‘what if’s’ are drowned out by how intense his emotions are - but once he gets situated, the shock melts away for thoughts much more destructive.

Toby puts you on a pedestal. Like some sort of goddess compared to him. So sweet, pure, and untainted by the horrors he’s been subjected to.

So, the awe of being with you very quickly becomes bordered with the overwhelming fear that you’ll one day grow bored of him.

Or worse, one day grow scared of him.

His jealousy is absolutely volatile when left unchecked. His thoughts spiral quickly, and he feels things very intensely.

Laughed at a joke another proxy made? Oh, must mean that you like them more than him. Share a cigarette with Tim because you ran out? Yeah, you guys definitely must be fucking behind his back.

Oh, and if they’re not a fellow proxy? Yeah, they’re good as dead if they so much as hold a door open for you.

It’s… an issue, to say the least. It gets to the point where you can’t even look at another man without Toby twisting himself into a knot.

Like a dog, growling at anyone who even comes close to its territory.

And don’t… Don’t try to reason with him. He won’t budge, no matter how many times you try to calm him down.

And if you’re really insistent about it, things can get messy fast.

Immediately, he’ll be convinced all of his worst nightmares are unfolding before his eyes. Because why would you be trying to get him to stop protecting you? It must be because you’re guilty, in one way or another.

I will not lie to you, he gets so nasty and mean when he’s like this. Name calling, being purposefully harsh just to spite you, before he inevitably disappears without warning for a few hours to try and cool off.

(He is a walking tornado when he’s like this btw. If something gets close to him, it’s getting butchered). So, it’s a good thing he knows to distance himself.

But, you suppose you can’t really blame him. Every thing else that he’s ever loved was ripped up from under his feet, right before his eyes.

Needless to say, he needs constant reassurance.

You could never say ‘I love you’ too many times to him. Every single time it feels like a blessing. Like it’s the first time all over again.

His love languages are words of affirmation, gift giving and physical touch.

Big emphasis on the latter. He needs to be touching you like all the time.

A hand tucked into your back pocket as you stand beside him, playing with your hair as you rest your head on his lap. Arms circled around your waist as you prepare dinner, shuffling around the kitchen behind you as he nibbles at your neck softly.

Did I mention he likes to bite? Because he does. A lot.

A lot of the time, it isn’t even of sexual nature, he’s just got an oral fixation. If you weren’t around, he’d be biting his nails to the bone, or chewing on the strings of his hoodie.

But he does have you! So you’re getting nibbled on instead <3

Lazily dragging his teeth against your shoulder blades as you lay in bed cuddling together. Nibbling on your thumbs and fingers absentmindedly as you watch a movie together. Sneaking up behind you just to catch the meat of your neck between his teeth, biting hard enough to leave indentations behind before he just goes about his day as if nothing happened.

It doesn’t help that you taste so good - but we’ll get into that later.

His other love language - gift giving - is just as prominent.

In my general headcanons for him, I mentioned that Toby likes to search the forest for pretty things when he’s out and about. If he’s in a relationship, yeah that increases tenfold.

He’s like a fucking crow. Constantly bringing home shiny rocks and cool bones he came across. Wildflowers too, which he’ll haphazardly tie into a makeshift bouquet before giving to you.

If any of his victims are wearing jewelry - yeah, that’s getting snatched. It’s not like they need it now, and it would definitely look better on his baby anyway.

(You’ve learned to stop asking where they’re coming from).

He pampers and dotes on you to an almost annoying degree btw. But as I mentioned before, he’s pretty much convinced you’re a deity, so that’s what you deserve.

He loves to take care of you. It makes him feel like he’s deserving of your presence. (Though, he really doesn’t need to prove himself to you, but it’s a whole mental thing you won’t be able to talk him out of).

He will literally learn skills just to make your life easier. Gets better at hunting so that you don’t have to worry about where to find food. Figures out how to skin and butcher animals so that you don’t have to deal with the gore. Will build furniture for you if you mention you want something once. (“It’d be nice to have a swing in the back for the summer.” Boom. You’ve got one the next day.)

He’ll wash your hair, sew up your clothes, wake up early just so that you have a cup of coffee before your eyes even flutter open.

Because, again, that’s what you deserve.

I will mention this again he is SOOOOOO clingy! He’ll come home from a mission and immediately be seeking you out, pulling you into an embrace before even washing the blood from his skin.

Very outdoorsy too, so expect lots of long nature walks and picnics.

Memories intact! [NSFW]

Remember how I said he thinks you taste good?

Good fucking luck because when you guys are getting down and dirty, it’s gonna feel like he’s trying to literally consume you.

He will sink his teeth into wherever he can find purchase. Your neck, shoulders, thighs, chest, ass - nothing is spared. You’re gonna look like you got attacked by a wolf when it’s all over.

And his possessiveness definitely plays a part.

He wants you covered in his marks. Wants people to know you’re his with just one glance at you.

He’ll bite hard enough to bruise, hard enough to bleed - and then he’ll suck at the wound to draw more out. Loving the taste of your blood on his tongue, but also needing the mark he leaves behind to be as dark as possible.

Honestly, I’m gonna be fr, he’d probably carve his initials into your thigh if you’d let him.

Gotta let everyone know who you belong to!

You, will never forget that fact. Because in bed, it seems like his main mission is to drill that idea into your brain.

He’ll usually start out gentle, but that never lasts long. He’ll have you sobbing by the time it’s all over. Fucking as many orgasms out of you as you can take.

And that man’s got stamina. So, good luck trying not to pass out.

He can’t feel the pain and soreness of his muscles, so it doesn’t matter to him. He’ll keep going until he’s shooting blanks LMAO

And he’s… well endowed. So you’re gonna be feeling it for a few days after.

I’m gonna give him a solid 6.5 inches. Not too girthy, but enough for you to really feel the stretch.

I don’t make the rules. He’s a dorky, scrawny white boy, alright? I have quite literally never been with one that wasn’t packing 🫡

Pleasure is like, the one intense sensation he can feel, so he’s pretty hypersexual tbh. It’s the only thing that breaks through the numbness he’s always drowning in.

I personally believe Toby’s not a snivelling virgin, but anyone else he’s been with before you simply do not exist to him the moment you first bare it all for him.

You practically rewrote his brain, and now he’s convinced that everyone else on earth pales in comparison. And he’s obsessive about it.

He’s almost always horny over you LMAOOO his libido is off the charts.

But it’s not his fault!! You’re just so pretty! You literally don’t even have to do anything. He’ll pop a boner just from watching you brush your hair.

(Before you guys officially started dating, he jacked off to the thought of you more times than he will ever admit. Jacked off to pictures of you even more often).

And, he’s not too well versed in self-control, so the moment he gets the urge - expect to be practically pounced on.

Does not matter where you are. Bedroom, kitchen, in the woods, in an alley, shoved into a gas station bathroom. He doesn’t care. Let someone walk in on you, let them alllll know who’s fucking you good.

He’s a bit of an exhibitionist if I will be honest, and it’s partially motivated by his need to let everyone know that you’re his. The type to try and convince you to cockwarm him while you’re sitting in the corner of a room full of people.

I have mentioned this many times on my blog, Toby is a grade A fucking munch. The man loves to eat pussy. I would argue it’s his favourite pastime.

He will spend literal hours down there if you let him. Moaning into you as he claws at your hips with blunt fingernails, nipping and biting at your thighs between licks.

He will cum untouched. He is crazy sensitive and just the taste of you will get him so hard it will definitely end with him dirtying his boxers.

But just as much as that, he loves it when you go down on him too.

He’s a bit of a sadist (which I will touch on in a moment), so he loves to watch you struggle and choke to take him all. Loves how you whimper around him and your eyebrows furrow. He loves the sight of your pretty tears like most.

So much, that he’ll lick them off your cheeks.

Also, German dirty talk! He almost always slips into his mother tongue when he’s deep in it.

“So eine gute kleine Schlampe.”

“Hübsches Lamm, ich weiß, du kannst mehr ertragen.”

Speaking of talk, dude is fucking NOISY. He’s always gotta be saying something.

Mindless babble about how good you feel between strained grunts and groans. Drool smearing against your neck as he moans about how much he loves you, how he’s so lucky to have you, how he can’t believe that you’re his.

“Du gehörst mir, Baby. Vergiss das nie.”

“Mein Mädchen. Mein Ein und Alles.”

The only way he’s quiet is if he’s got a face full of pussy tbh.

But don’t forget to praise him too! I already told you he needs affirmation on a daily basis this definitely carries into the bedroom.

Tell him how good he makes you feel, how full he gets you, and he will fucking fold.

(Don’t be afraid to call him a good boy either. He’ll get so flustered and blush so pretty).

Oh, and he’s got a breeding kink.

Not like.. Seriously, because he’s well aware that being a father isn’t in his cards.

But the idea of knocking you up makes him downright feral.

That’s like, the ultimate claim. It’s the dream, for someone as sickeningly possessive as him.

(And he’d bet you’d look even more beautiful pregnant).

So if you’re on the pill, expect endless creampies.

And if you’re not, expect him to act like a big baby about it.

It’s just not as satisfying to cum on you, it should be in you. That’s where it belongs.

Either way, he’s not wearing a condom. The type to call it ‘restrictive’ or ‘suffocating’. His pull out game is strong though, luckily.

(Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t often think about just cumming inside you and dealing with the consequences later. He’s selfish like that. But he’d never actually do it.)

It’s alright though. Just let him cum down your throat and that’ll placate him a little.

Okay, let’s get into the nitty gritty. He is a sadist 100% no and ifs or buts about it. He can’t feel pain himself, so he is so morbidly fascinated with how people react to it. Especially you. You just look so lovely when your face is scrunched up in agony, pretty tears flowing down your cheeks.

He’d never hurt you bad enough to be worrisome, but he will draw blood and leave bruises. He will test you, to see just how much you can take.

And I don’t know if I can call him a masochist, because again - he can’t feel it - BUT he LOVES IT when you get rough with him too.

Claw at his back until the skin tears. Tug at his hair hard enough to make his scalp throb. Bite him, and draw some blood in return. Really makes him feel wanted and desired.

He is the absolute king of aftercare though, despite his roughness.

Will run you a bath and carry you to it. Wash you clean of all the blood and grime smeared across your skin. You can even fall asleep if you want, he’ll tend to you with the utmost care before drying you off and carrying you back to bed.

And when you wake up, he’s right there next to you with a glass of water and painkillers in hand.

oh toby,,, my dear boyfailure,, at the end of the day his toxic traits all boil down to being scared to lose you.

but! if he lost his memories…

Memories wiped! [SFW]

Baby… good fucking luck.

You will literally be competing for attention with an eldritch entity so… I hope you’ve got strong willpower and determination.

Toby is Slender’s golden boy, and for good reason. He’s a 6’1, absolute tank of a man who can’t feel pain. His endurance is whacked, his dedication and devotion rivals that of the looniest heretic, and he’s damn good at his job. You could break his jaw and claw his eyes out and you will still lose.

(In this scenario, you would have to be a fellow proxy. If not, the only relationship you’re getting with Toby is being one of his victims. This man’s brain is so rotted you may as well be trying to seduce a fucking rock.)

So, with the first big change from before; you will have to be the one perusing him. The Toby from the first scenario would be pining over you pathetically. This one? He could not give a rats ass about starting any form of relationship. It’s just a distraction from his purpose.

And I’m so sorry, but you will be making a fool out of yourself for a least a couple months before he caves. He will not reciprocate your flirting at all before you wriggle under his skin, and if anything he’ll just view you as a fucking nuisance.

He has half the mind to not complain about you to Slender and get you tortured into submission.

But, he doesn’t. Maybe from lingering remnants of the compassion he had lost, or maybe because he knows you’re not technically doing anything wrong.

As long as you’re both getting your job’s done, you can make goo goo eyes at him all you want. Doesn’t matter to him.

Until it doessssss <3

It is a very slow process, and he is so not on board. If you thought he was snippy with you before, the moment feelings start to fester within him he is INSUFFERABLE. So mean for no fucking reason. Avoiding you at all costs if he can help it.

(such a tsundere <3)

No, it’s actually because he’s trying to get you to hate him so that he can finally get the distance he so clearly needs from you. He can’t afford to put his energy into romance. He’s more of a pawn than a man, it just feels… Wrong.

But, you know what they say! The heart wants what it wants! (Even if his brain is wholeheartedly trying to fight it).

He’d indulge himself in small doses. Snapping pictures of you when you aren’t looking, sneaking into your room to steal pieces of your clothing for the scent (we will touch on this more later).

And he hates it, because it is never enough to placate him. He’s always left yearning for more with fantasies of you flashing behind his eyes - and it is agonizing to deal with.

But at the same time, he doesn’t want it to stop, because it makes him feel… Almost nostalgic for a life he can’t even remember. A time when he could, and would form relationships with people. A time when there was more to life, than just - wake up, slaughter, sleep, repeat.

So, his willpower eventually wanes, and you notice it immediately.

He’s no longer mean for no reason. Only when you’re reckless and get yourself hurt, or if another proxy is picking on you. And he’ll constantly manage to wriggle his way onto whatever mission you’re going on.

He becomes a guard dog basically. And people will notice, because he is not subtle. He will flash his hatchets if someone looks at you wrong.

Again though, this will move SLOWWWW. The hating you phase will last months. The bodyguard phase will also last months. I hope you like slow burn because you guys will probably not kiss until over a year into knowing each other.

And when you do, it’s because he just can’t take it anymore. His imagination isn’t cutting it. It feels like you’ve infected him, and the longer he abstains, the worse his gut wrenching longing becomes.

So, on a mission together after finishing off your kill, he’ll pull you to the side and draw you in close.

He’ll search your face with manic eyes, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, thoughts pinging around in his brain at a mile a minute. And then, he’ll finally cave and press his lips to yours - right above the corpse you had just slain. How romantic <3

From there, I hope you don’t have second thoughts, because you’re in it for the long haul now. He will not be letting you go. He basically rewrote his entire mind for you, it would be cruel to back out now.

You thought the Toby I talked about before was obsessive? AHAHAHAHA

This man’s entire life revolves around two things; Slender and you, and he’s just as devoted to both.

He will not be leaving your side for even a second at a time if he can help it.

Except for when he wakes up from a random blackout and finds himself alone in the middle of nowhere. Which used to just be another day in the biz, but with you in the equation? He is panicking the moment he realizes you’re not next to him.

He is constantly worrying about, or thinking about you. And if he has to go on a mission away from you? He’ll act like the world is ending.

He won’t be leaving without a few articles of your clothing, and maybe (definitely) a few pictures.

He does get in trouble quite a few times, because he’ll start to get sloppy. Rushing through missions without a lack of care, just so that he can get home to you faster.

And you’ll take some of the fall too. Slender’s not stupid, and he’ll be well aware of why his once efficient killing machine has become lacklustre at best. Expect frequent bouts of Slender sickness throughout the duration of your relationship - just getting more and more intense with each iteration. As I said, I hope you’ve got a lot of willpower! Because you will be thrown through the wringer if you want to stay with him.

Toby will notice this though. It’s hard not to, either how you’re constantly nauseous, bleeding, and in a state of crippling paranoia, so he’ll force himself to be better - if only for your sake.

Surprisingly, this Toby is not as jealous or possessive. He doesn’t remember the pain of losing his loved ones, and with how much effort you put into courting him - he’s not scared that you’re going to leave him.

You would never, if you knew what’s good for you :)

As I said before - Jealous? no. Obsessive and protective? Uh huh.

He will kill anything that even thinks about hurting you. And if he can’t kill them (because of immortality or whatever), he’ll make them wish they were dead. It’s not torture if it’s justified, right?

Also, you’ll have to be patient with him. He’s not at all accustomed to this whole… Caring for other people thing. So he can’t really help how intensely he feels for you. Remember your first love? Yeah, it’s that. Plus a whole bucketload of hysteria.

He will take it as a personal attack if you want alone time. He wants to be with you all the time, so why wouldn’t you want that with him? You’re the one who sought him out.

He will be using that as a way to deflect any blame away from his toxic behaviour, btw. You lured him in. You wanted this. You’ll have to reap the consequences.

And despite how much he may want to be good for you, you really can’t ask much from a man who’s been trained to be as apathetic as humanly possible.

He’s got the attitude problems of a snot-nosed teenage boy. He will call you a bitch just for asking him to maybe change out of his bloody clothes before sitting on the couch. He will call you a nag, and stupid, and whatever nasty word comes to mind at the time. He’s horrible tbh. Gets real nasty if he’s in a mood.

And to be honest, he’s in a mood quite often, because he’s pretty prone to pushing himself until he’s near delirious from exhaustion.

And it sucks, but his conditioned mind just does not feel sympathy. You could be screaming your lungs out at him, practically pulling your hair out with tears streaming down your face, and all you’ll get in response is his default look of apathy.

Because to him, it’s not that deep. It’s not like he’s trying to fucking kill you. All he did was belittle and make a joke out of every single issue you’re having with him.

He’s actually the worst I’m sorry. But that’s what he’s supposed to be. He wasn’t programmed to partake in a cushy, loving relationship.

That doesn’t mean actually he hates you though, or means any of the fucked up shit he says, he’s entire view of love is just warped as hell. He’s pretty much convinced you being with him is just a given.

You guys will obviously fight a lot. Verbally and physically. It is a common sight for other proxies to see you and Toby brawling in the middle of the grass for the third time that week.

But when you guys are good, you’re really fucking good. You’re his glimpse into what life could be, and though he’s not the best at showing it, he really does love you for it.

So much that he’ll gift you a still beating heart on Valentine’s Day, along with a bouquet of wildflowers. Aw <3

Dates with him include: hunting together, axe throwing competitions(he always wins, obviously), long nature walks, going on missions together, scary movie nights where you both laugh at how unrealistic the gore is.

And because you are literally the first close relationship he’s ever had (or that he can remember) expect him to be making the most of it.

Touching and kissing you whenever he can. Even if there’s people around. He’s the king of PDA he does not give a fuck.

He likes it when you wear his clothes (especially his goggles… maybe a little too much) because it makes you look… His. And it’s weird, knowing that you are. That you’ve chosen to be around him, and he does revel in that fact every single day - even if he does kinda suck.

And over time, you will mellow him out, just like how you did in the beginning. He will never be a cushy soft, lovesick puppy, but he will eventually come to realize that maybe he shouldn’t be so much of an asshole to the woman who sticks by his side through it all.

And it’ll only go up from there!

Memories wiped! [SFW]

Okay, this Toby is a raging virgin. He was a heavily bullied outcast before becoming a mindless slave to Slender. He did not have time, nor care for any of that shit.

And it shows. At first, he’s so uncoordinated and messy. Too much tongue in his kisses, can’t find the clit to save his life - it’s… A mess. But what he lacks in experience he will make up for with enthusiasm.

He’s been fucking his own hand for way too long man, never once thinking about the fact that there could definitely be so much better out there.

So, he’s practically buzzing with excitement the first time you guys have sex. He’ll be twitching like a madman, tics going into overdrive as absolute elation and desire courses through his veins.

You will have to verbally tell him to slow down multiple times, because he’ll be like a freight train just trying to get to the good part. Practically tearing your clothes off, trying to just trying to shove his cock into you without an ounce of prep.

This man has been so isolated he didn’t even watch porn before meeting you, he has NO clue what to do with no reference point to go off of. All he’s got for sexual experience is the few Playboy mags he snagged from a house he broke into.

You’ll have to teach him <3

Be patient, and go easy on the teasing - his ego is very easily bruised.

And he will be busting quick. Absolute two pump chump. But he will get better with time, obviously. It’s just the first time he sinks into your heat it’s the most indescribable pleasure. Absolute heaven. Easily the best thing he’s felt in his entire life, so you can’t really blame him for the way he’s gasping and moaning against your neck after only a few strokes.

He’s got stamina though, so he won’t be quitting after that don’t you worry. He’ll go for as long as it takes to figure out how to make you cum too.

Lucky for you, he’s a quick learner if you guide him, and he’ll mentally bookmark everything that makes you moan louder or twitch beneath him.

Once the first time is out of the way, he’s just as horny (if not more) as his memory having counterpart.

Because you’re telling him that was what he was missing out on??? Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell him??

Gotta make up for lost time! First few weeks of you properly dating will be marathon sex for days on end. He just can’t get enough of you. Never wants to get enough of you. Wants to try anything and everything, learning as he goes what he likes the best.

And what he likes the best, is being a subby little baby.

I KID but for real though, the kicker here is that this Toby would be way more of a sub than the other one I talked about.

All he does, all the time, is put on a strong face and work himself to the bone. It feels nice, to just shut his brain off and let you take the ropes for the most part.

And taking orders from you, feels so much better. Because they’re not things he has to do, they’re things he wants to do.

He loves when you’re on top, holding his chest down with one hand as you set the pace.

Loves to eat you out, loves it even more when you sit on his face.

Remember how I said you guys will fight a lot? Now is the time to get your frustrations out on him.

You can be mean, and he’ll just take it. Cockwarm him and refuse to move, swat his hands away when he tries to grab at your hips and force you to. Edge him. Make him cum untouched as you ride his tongue. Grind against his cock until he’s pleading you to just please let him inside you.

Knock him down a peg, he sure as hell needs it.

Outside of the bedroom, he’ll never admit how much he likes it, but you know. That pretty blush of his doesn’t lie, and if he really wanted to overpower you he definitely could.

He’s messy. Drooling, leaking tears when it gets to be almost too much.

And he’s loud. Like, not a fucking care in the world if someone might hear you. You’d have to literally gag him if you want him to quiet down.

(Which, he would also probably like).

Loves it when you mark him up, but you’ve got to get some in return too - matching hickeys so that everyone knows you’re together.

Like in the first part, sometimes you’ll wonder if he’s trying to literally consume you with how often he’s sinking his teeth into you - but the difference is, this time, he’s actually thinking about it.

He’s got cannibalistic tendencies on a day to day basis, so when his brain is all fogged up but lust and desire they just become worse.

He will bite too hard. Locking his jaw onto the muscles of your shoulder as he thinks about tearing away and pulling your flesh from bone.

He won’t… But he will come close.

Also, before you guys got together, remember how I said he’d steal pieces of your clothing? Yeah, it’s mostly panties. Used ones, if he’s lucky (he’s so nasty).

He’d have his nose buried in one pair while using another one to stroke his cock.

This is something that he will still do even after you start dating, especially if either of you are away on a mission for an extended period of time.

Only now he’ll actually return them to you - a smirk on his face as he slips the freshly stained garments back into your underwear drawer, hoping that maybe one morning you’ll slip them on without noticing.

okay! that’s all I have to say (finally). so…. pick your poison!

holy fucking shit I meant for this to just be a nice, easy to put together hc list that I could post while working on a full length fic.

nope. this took me half a week because I just kept going and going

sigh.

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igotanidea · 1 day ago

Text

Circle of life: Jason Todd x reader

AKA: the one when teen!Jason had been teased about his crush and what happened later.

***

„Soooo… when will Y/N come over again?”

„What do you mean?” Jason looked up at his older brother from the book he was reading, not understanding what Dick meant by this innocent line.

Though there was a little shade of pink blooming on his cheeks.

“I’m just saying – “ Dick plopped on Jason’s bed “She’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”

“Um…” Jason bit his bottom lip, forcing eyes back on the book, to not show the pink turning red.

“And she seems to like you, you know.”

“She does?” Big blue eyes landed on Dick’s face before realizing he walked right into the skillfully set trap.

Poor Jason. He was barely 14 and going through his first crash. And it was twice as intense for him, considering the fact he was just starting to learn what infatuation (love?) felt like.

And he was being teased about it by both Dick and Bruce. And maybe even Alfred if you think about it, thought the butler was a little more subtle doing so.

“Yes. I’m pretty sure she does. I know girls, you know.” Grayson just couldn’t help himself from throwing a veiled self-compliment.

“Right…”

“Hey, listen, maybe we can go to the funfair this weekend?”

“To the funfair?”

“Sure. Why not?” Dick shrugged “I owe Babs a date after all, we might as well make it a double one.”

“Mhm. So you could keep making out and freak Y/N out?” For a young teenager Jason was too perceptive for his own good and this time it was Dick’s turn to blush.

“It was one time!”

“It’s disgusting!”

“It’s not disgusting, Jaybird. Besides I’m pretty sure, you would love to kiss Y/n and – “

“Bleugh!”

Dick rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Stop laughing!”

“You’re so cute being in love.”

“I am not in love!”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” Dick laughed harder and snatched something from Jay’s desk. Said something being a note with Y/N;s name written in multiple fonts all over the paper. “I swear, you’re like a teen girl.”

“Give it back!”

“Soooo cute!” Dick hummed, grabbing Jay’s cheek and pinching it softly, before jumping on a safe distance. It was such an easy target bordering on the impossibility of letting the opportunity pass by.

“Shut up…”

“Hm? Did I hear you curse?”

“Bruce won’t agree to it, either way, so you can stop now.”

“You think Bats would deny you meeting a girl you like?”

“She’s a civilian.”

“And?”

“Don’t you know the rules, Dick?”

“The rules….? Oh wait. Wait. The rules. The rules.... “ Nightwing scratched his head, feigning wondering what this word may actually mean. “Oh right! THE RULES! The – no dragging civilians into vigilante life.”

“You’re acting like an idiot now.” Jason muttered, starting to feel like talking to his big brother was nothing more but a waste of time and a loss of brain cells.

“Hey there, don’t be mean. Listen, you gotta screw the rules sometimes.”

“Screw the rules?” Even repeating those words seemed like a blasphemy and out of the sudden Jason was transferred back in time to those moments with his so-called parents and those rare occasions when he actually dared to disobey and the implications of said action. “I – I can’t –“

Shit.

Dick never meant for the innocent teasing to turn into reliving a generational trauma.

“I’ll talk to Bruce. I’m sure he’ll make an exception for you.” His voice tore through the fog of memories and Jason sighed deeply, shaking head to get the remnants out of his system.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll make sure to remind him of all the times he was acting like a hypocrite and going against his own rules by sleeping with.. –Eh!I mean – meeting with- models and journalists.”

***

To be young and in love and in New York city…

Or – to be young and falling and in Gotham.

Not equally as romantic but still wonderful.

And somehow, being focused on each other, Jason and Y/N somehow managed to forget and look past the darkness, gloominess and ubiquitous crime in the city.

Laughing, having fun, even sharing cotton candy.

Going through the motions, just spending a nice time together, having more than one moment of awkwardness and embarrassment when their eyes met for a moment longer and they both turned their gazes away, blushing and sweating.

All much to the amusement of Dick, who volunteered to chaperone them both.

And if it wasn’t for Babs, patting his head or grabbing his hand every time he wanted to rush forward and throw jokes, the not-a-date would probably end up being a disaster.

“Come on, Barbara, you can’t possibly keep me quiet!” he groaned. “Just look at them!” He pointed towards the two 14 year olds in front of them. Currently Jason was throwing balls into the plastic cups, determined to win a plushie for Y/N, who was standing beside, watching his every movement, inhaling sharply every time he aimed.

“I sure as hell will try. Don’t act like your name.”

“This is so not fair…” Richard whined theatrically, crossing arms over his chest and pouting like a kid, who didn’t get the lollipop. “I am being restrained!”

“Just keep your mouth closed and eyes open. They are so cute together…”

“Aha! You see, I knew you’d come around and admit I was right!”

“I never disagreed on that.”

“But – you never told me-“

“Of course not. Why give you the satisfaction and possibility of using the words “I told you so?”

“You’re so mean, I swear-“

“YAY! Good job, Jason!” Y/N’s voice echoed through the space, followed by her soft chuckle and a proud grin of Jason, who clearly had just won a first prize.

Much to the shock of the owner of the entertainment booth, because for the past five years the man had been coming to Gotham, no one managed to achieve that, let alone a kid, whose head was barely reaching the counter.

“Thanks….” He muttered, her cheer and happiness making his heart grow much more than the actual winning.

A moment later, he was holding onto the giant plushie racoon, avoiding her eyes, handing the toy to her.

And sure as hell he didn’t expect Y/N, the Y/N¸ to lean forward and press a little kiss to his cheek.

He could burn at the spot.

But it was nice. Warm and soft and new and –

“OOOH!” Dick cooed from the sidelines, before Barbara patted his head again, placing hand on his face to shut any potential further comment falling from that foul mouth.

“Richard!”

“I – “ Y/N could burn at the spot and judging by Jason’s face he was in the same hell as she was. “I – I –.“ It was about to turn into the world’s most terrifying moment for her. Being laughed at because she gathered enough courage to open up a little and –

But somehow, Jason suddenly became way more protective, reaching for her hand and squeezing it reassuringly as if apologizing for his stupid brother.

And she squeezed back.

It was just a fraction of a moment, before they both pulled back, but it was enough.

“Hey, how about we take a photo of us all?” Babs caught up on the subtle gesture and sprang into action, ready to remedy the situation.

“So cute---"

Another comment of the same content coming from Dick Grayson ended with three pairs of very unsatisfied eyes.

And two weeks of silent treatment from his girlfriend.

And a photo of four people consisting of boyfriend and girlfriend kissing and his brother and friend holding hand and smiling, albeit awkwardly.

***

Eight years later.

“How much longer?!” The knocking on the bathroom door was getting more and more insistent and hence – annoying.

“You’re making this longer by being a menace!”

“I am not getting late on the-“

“When did you become so punctual?” she laughed through the door

“Since I’m playing the most important role in the -“

“Ok, ok, fine, I’m ready. I’m ready. You act like you don’t know I’m never late.”

Y/N was standing in front of him, looking like a freaking model from a freaking magazine and if they were about to miss the time it would be because he simply couldn’t take eyes off her.

“You like?”

“I – wow, I mean – “ he took a sharp inhale, barely holding back from whistling.

She grinned, her woman vanity taking control.

“Look at you all tongue tied.”

“You can’t blame me for getting a little hot for my girlfriend!”

“I can’t. And I won’t. But you can admire me a little later, how about that?” She fixed his tie lovingly “And by the way, you are quite handsome yourself.”

“God!” Jason groaned and grabbed her by the waist, bestowing a luscious, passionate kiss on her. “Can I steal you away?”

“What happened to-“

“Screw it. Run away with me.” He whispered, nuzzling into her neck.

Y/N laughed, wriggled out of his embrace, grabbed his hand and guided him towards the car.

“But I thought-“

“I am not riding backpack in this dress and those heels.”

“But – “

“Ah! No buts. Get in or I’ll be the one behind the wheel.”

“God, you’re a terrorist!” Jason quickly gathered himself, taking the driver’s spot.

***

As expected, the ceremony was beautiful.

The bride was breathtaking, the groom was exceptionally nervous, the flowers and decorations turned out perfect and at least a few women cried, touched by the emotionality of it all.

Emotionality that got even to Jason as he watched Y/N walk down the aisle, with a simple bouquet of field flowers, finally taking the place in front of him, by the altar, smiling softly.

Prelude to the main act of their lives.

It felt like all the winding roads and blinding lights led them to this moment.

Through the loss and pain and fear and trauma and laugh and love and peaceful moments and just being there for one another.

Eyes locked, hands itching by their sides, no words said, yet so many exchanged.

Lost in the feeling.

In their heads they were playing in their own movie that fused so many genres.

And the fact that neither Jason nor Y/N were main characters didn’t matter, at least not until the most important question echoed in their ears.

“Do you, Richard Grayson take Barbara Gordon—”

“I do.”

“Do you Barbara Gordon take Richard Grayson—”

“I do.”

“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The whole church erupted in a sound of cheering and joy and only two guests were completely quiet, exchanging knowing smiles of love.

***

“Hey, how about we take a photo of us all?” the bride stood up from behind the table, grabbing her maid of honor, by one hand and her husband by the other.

“That reminds me of something – “ Jason quickly reached for Y/n, not willing to let her out of his reach under no circumstances.

“Really? What does it remind you of?” Dick grinned wildly, getting a soft spat on the head from his betrothed.

“Richard!” she scoffed, grinning the same way.

“Sooooooo cute….”

“Shut up…” Jason put on the widest smile.

“She likes you back, you know?” Dick quoted himself from the past.

“Oh, she so likes you back.” Y/N chimed in

“So cute being in looooove.” Grayson laughed.

“So in love….” Jason hummed, looking deep into Y/N’s eyes.

“Say cheese, guys!” The photographer called, taking a photo.

A photo of four happy people, consisting of a bride and groom holding hands and smiling and a best man and maid of honor kissing.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 13 hours ago

Note

I would love to see jack abbott with a sunshine reader i adore the grumpy sunshine dynamic.

Like Dana, she gets hit. She debates on telling him, but maybe robby lets it slip to Jack, and he ofc freaks out (i mean, the guy carries an ultrasound machine in a go bag)

His Rock

main masterlist | the pitt masterlist

pairing: dr. jack abbott x female nurse!reader

rating: PG-13

word count: 1.4k

warnings: violence (reader gets punched)

author’s note: thank you so much for the request! sorry for the part that’s so similar to the show. hope this was worth the wait!

The first date you had with Dr. Jack Abbott was at a nice restaurant. You two hit it off instantly, and no one in the world could make him laugh the way you did. Something about your energy really complemented his. You would be chipper and fun and full of life, while he’d be groaning about the amount of patients he had on his plate. You were never too chipper for him, though. You were just chipper enough. You knew when to be serious and when he needed a good laugh to brighten his day.

You remembered the first time he lost a patient while you two were together. You sat with him on the roof after his shift as he contemplated life. You held his hand and kissed it gently as you both sat in silence for what felt like hours.

“Thank you,” was all he said before he stood up, helped you stand up, and you both drove your separate ways home.

There were also times when you weren’t chipper. Then it was up to him to cheer you up, though he wasn’t as talented at it as you were. But he was there for you, and that’s all that mattered. Through ups and downs, he was always there, and before you knew it two years flew by.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket when you realized something. Jack was late for his shift. He was supposed to be there ten minutes ago. You pulled out your phone and saw a text from Langdon, something about getting a drink with a few of the doctors after work. You replied with an excited “yes” before you texted your boyfriend.

You asked him why he was late, and he simply replied with “traffic”. Your heart stopped racing when you read the text. He was fine.

When he finally did enter The Pitt, you were there to greet him with a big smile and a tight hug.

“Good morning,” you all but squealed.

“It’s seven in the afternoon,” he grumbled.

“But you just woke up, so for you it’s morning,” you reasoned. “I love you.” You got on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips.

“I love you, too,” he replied

“Why not?” a patient asked you the next day. He had been trying to get you to go on a date with him for the past two hours and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Because, like I’ve said many times now, I have a boyfriend,” you repeated slowly.

He completely ignored your reason and continued to ask you out again. You simply rolled your eyes at him with a scoff.

You were outside taking a much-needed (very quick) breather when someone came up behind you.

“Hey, nurse,” the man snarled before punching you square in the face with his right hand. You fell to the floor in pain, blood gushing from your nose.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed.

After lying there for a moment, you picked yourself up carefully off the pavement and headed inside.

When Robby saw you, he came rushing over.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed, seeing the blood on your face. “Grab some ice,” he told Mateo, who hurried to do so. Robby ran up to you and held your face in his gloved hands so he could get a good look at your face. “What happened?”

“Just got punched, I’m fine,” you said. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Come sit down.” He guided you to a chair nearby and got down to your level so he could examine the injury. “Can you go get Ahmad, please, Dana?” he asked her before she nodded and left.

“I’m fine, Robby, really,” you persisted.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you answered honestly. “But I didn’t black out or anything, just a bloody nose.”

“I’m gonna apply pressure,” Perlah said before pressing a cloth to your nose.

“Okay, okay,” you winced. “I’ve got it.” You replaced her hand with your own.

“Any trouble seeing? Any double vision?” Robby asked you. “What about a headache?”

“No trouble seeing, I‘ve got a bit of a headache, yeah,” you said.

“I’m gonna grab you new scrubs,” Nurse Kim said, and she left to do so.

“You’re gonna need a room,” Robby said.

“C’mon, Robby, I don’t need a room, I’m fine!”

A nurse ran to go and prep a room.

“Follow my finger,” Robby instructed, holding his pointer finger in front of your face. “Right, left, up, down. EOM is intact.”

“Who did this?” Ahmad asked you.

“Just a pissed off patient but he split so just forget it,” you said, sounding on the verge of tears.

“Hell no! I want a name,” he persisted.

“Harrison Elliot,” you admitted.

“The asshole that was hitting on you?” Mateo asked, and you nodded.

“I’m calling the cops,” Ahmad said as he left.

Robby pulled out his flashlight and waved it in front of your eyes. “Pupils are equal and reactive,” he said. He shone the light up your nostrils before saying, “No septal hematoma. Tell me when it’s sore.” He began applying light pressure to your face, starting at the cheekbones and heading for your nose.

As he got closer to your nose, you gasped in pain and asked him to stop.

“Tender at the nasion. CT head and maxillofacial,” Robby said.

“I’ll give them a heads up,” Mohan said before she left as well.

Dana began wiping the blood off your face and neck as you asked Robby, “Is that really necessary?”

“You have at least one facial fracture,” Robby said. “With the headache and the fall, I want to rule out anything intracranial.”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, but he just shook his head with a small smile.

“Want me to call Jack?” Robby asked.

“Hell no, I don’t want to worry him.”

“I think he has every right to worry about you if he wants.”

“Don’t call him, Robby,” you said, and he nodded.

“Jack’s gonna be worried,” Robby commented when he visited your room.

“I’ll just tell him I bumped into a door, he’ll believe that, right?”

“Sure,” Robby scoffed. “CT results came back, you’re free to get back to work… or go home.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” you said.

“You still haven’t called him?”

“He’s probably asleep, I don’t wanna wake him up.”

“If it were me, I’d wanna get woken up,” he told you, knowing Abbott and therefore knowing he would want to know you were hurt. “You aren’t burdening him, just give him a call.”

“That poor man needs his sleep, believe me,” you laughed a little.

“For once in your life, don’t be chipper about a situation and call your boyfriend.

“Fine,” you sighed.

You didn’t end up calling him, but Robby figured as much.

The whole day changed when there was a rush of emergency patients due to a fire nearby. Night staff was called in early, which meant you would have to face Jack sooner than you thought.

“Abbott! So happy to see you,” Robby exclaimed when he saw him.

“How many burn victims so far?” he asked.

“Not sure yet. And I thought today’s big event was gonna be that meathead punching Y/n.” When Robby realized what he said, he watched as Abbott’s eyes practically bulged out of his skull.

“What?” Jack exclaimed loudly. “Where is she?”

“I’m right here,” you sighed from behind him. “And I hoped Robby wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh my god,” he muttered when he saw your bruised face. “Baby, what…” he trailed off as he traced his thumb down your cheek and cupped your face in his hands. Carefully, he kissed you deeply before he muttered, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” you told him as he looked at you with such worry that it made your heart hurt.

“You don’t look fine,” he whispered.

“Excuse you, I always look fine,” you chuckled, teasing him. That did it, that made him crack the smallest of smiles.

“See, now there you go making me all happy when you know damn well I should be mad about this.”

“Aw, you love me.”

“I do love you,” Abbott said before he leaned down and kissed you again. “And it’s because I love you, I’m gonna make sure you get the proper care you need. CT scan?”

“Already got one, I really am fine,” you said.

“Okay.” He smiled and kissed you a third time, causing you to smile wider.

#jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbott x reader #jack abbott #dr jack abbott #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #the pitt hbo #the pitt

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zeroseuniverse · 1 day ago

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Hiiii! I just read the s.coups as a lovesick fool who's absolutely whipped for his gf even though he's a gang leader and I have to say girl you slayed . I dont know if you take requests but could you please write about their love story or how he fell for her ? It would be so cuteeee.

Love Sick Fool II

Word Count: 1.5K Summary:"Boss, why are we here again?" "Coffee's decent." "Hyung, you don't even like coffee." "Shut up, Mingyu." Pairing: S.coups X reader

Taglist: @haaruki @agaha127 @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120 @ltfirecracker

Navigation

The first time Seungcheol saw you, you were nothing more than a passing presence in a world he ruled with an iron fist. He was used to people avoiding his gaze, lowering their heads in fear or respect. But you? You looked right at him.

It wasn’t a challenge, nor was it admiration. It was a simple glance—curious, unafraid.

And that was enough to make him pause.

You were working at a small café, one he only stepped into because Joshua insisted they needed a place to lay low for an hour. It was nothing special—at least, it shouldn't have been. But the moment you approached the table, notebook in hand, Seungcheol felt something shift.

“What can I get for you?”

Your voice was light, patient, not at all like the people who usually spoke to him with nervous energy or calculated charm. He was about to answer when Jeonghan spoke up first.

“An americano for me, please,” Jeonghan said smoothly, flashing you a practiced smile.

Seungcheol expected you to melt the way most people did under Jeonghan’s charm. Instead, you barely spared him a glance as you jotted down the order.

“And for you?” you asked, looking directly at Seungcheol.

For some reason, it took him a second too long to answer. He was used to commanding a room, controlling situations, but here you were—entirely unaffected, treating him like just another customer.

Joshua nudged him, amusement flickering in his eyes. Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Same. Americano.”

“Got it.”

That should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve walked away, and he should’ve returned to discussing business. But as you turned, someone at a nearby table bumped into you, causing the tray you were carrying to tilt. In a split second, Seungcheol’s hand shot out, steadying the tray before it could fall.

You blinked, surprised, before offering a small smile. “Good reflexes.”

He let go of the tray, fingers lingering for just a second too long. “Comes with the job.”

You didn’t ask what that job was. Maybe you already knew. Maybe you didn’t care. Either way, you simply gave a nod before walking off.

Seungcheol watched you go, an unfamiliar weight settling in his chest.

Jeonghan smirked. “That was interesting.”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol muttered, but even as they went back to their conversation, his mind kept wandering back to you.

Over the next few weeks, he found excuses—ridiculous, unnecessary excuses—to stop by the café.

"Boss, why are we here again?"

"Coffee's decent."

"Hyung, you don't even like coffee."

"Shut up, Mingyu."

Every time he walked in, you’d greet him with the same calm, easy presence. You never pried, never tiptoed around him like others did. Instead, you teased him about ordering the same drink every time, raised an eyebrow when he lingered too long after closing, and even smirked once when he threatened a guy outside the shop—completely unfazed by the power he held.

He couldn’t figure you out.

And that drove him crazy.

Until one night, when he walked in just as some drunk idiot was grabbing your wrist.

Seungcheol didn’t think—he acted.

In seconds, the guy was shoved against the counter, Seungcheol’s forearm pressing into his throat. “You have three seconds to apologize before you regret ever walking in here.”

The man stammered, clearly regretting all his life choices. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Leave.”

The guy bolted.

Seungcheol turned back to you, expecting fear, maybe even shock. Instead, you sighed, shaking your head. “You’re really dramatic, you know that?”

He stared. “Excuse me?”

You crossed your arms. “I could’ve handled him.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? And what were you gonna do, throw a sugar packet at him?”

You smirked. “I was thinking hot coffee to the face, but your way works too.”

For the first time in a long time, Seungcheol laughed. A real, genuine laugh.

And that’s when it hit him.

He was already falling.

Falling for the person who never looked at him with fear.

Falling for the one who treated him like something more than a name whispered in hushed tones.

Falling for the only person who made him forget, even for a moment, that he was someone the world feared.

He was utterly, completely doomed.

And from that day on, Choi Seungcheol—the most powerful, ruthless gang leader in the city—was absolutely, irreversibly whipped.

Falling for you was easy. It was everything after that that terrified him.

Seungcheol was used to controlling—to knowing every move before it happened, to staying two steps ahead. But you? You threw every rule out the window. He didn’t know how to navigate this—this warmth, this lightness, this you.

He should’ve kept his distance. Should’ve told himself that a man like him didn’t get to have things like this.

But the moment he knew—really knew—that he was yours?

It was the night you patched him up.

It had been a messy deal. One of his men screwed up, someone pulled a knife, and though Seungcheol got the situation under control, he took a hit in the process. A deep gash along his side, bleeding more than he liked.

He should’ve gone to a safehouse. Should’ve called Wonwoo to handle it.

But somehow, his feet led him straight to you.

When you opened your door to find him standing there, blood staining his shirt, your eyes widened—but not in fear. Never in fear.

"Sit," you ordered, pulling him inside without hesitation.

He let you. Let you press him onto your couch, let you pull out a first-aid kit, let you mutter curses under your breath as you lifted his shirt to assess the damage.

“This is bad,” you murmured, hands surprisingly steady as you cleaned the wound. “You should be in a hospital.”

“No hospitals.”

You sighed, but didn’t argue. You never did—not about this. Instead, you worked quietly, patching him up with gentle but firm hands.

And then, as you finished securing the bandage, you looked up.

“Seungcheol,” you said softly. “You can’t keep doing this.”

His breath caught.

Not because of the pain. Not because of the wound.

But because of the way you said his name—like it mattered. Like he mattered.

He could handle knives, bullets, enemies plotting against him in the dark. But this? The way you looked at him, eyes filled with something dangerously close to care?

That was lethal.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice rough.

You frowned. “No, you’re not.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but then you did something he didn’t expect.

You reached out—slowly, carefully—and rested a hand against his cheek.

Seungcheol froze.

“You can’t just keep throwing yourself into danger like this,” you murmured. “You think I don’t notice when you show up like this? Or when you disappear for days and come back looking like hell?”

His throat felt tight. “This is the life I chose.”

Your jaw clenched. “And if something happens to you? If one day, you don’t walk through that door?”

He had no answer.

Because for the first time, he realized—he never thought about what his life meant to someone else.

But here you were. Worried. Angry. Scared for him.

Him. Choi Seungcheol. The man no one dared to care for because they knew it was dangerous.

Yet you did. You did.

And just like that, he was done for.

Utterly, completely yours.

Seungcheol wasn’t good with words.

He could command a room, negotiate million-dollar deals, and terrify a man into silence with just a look—but when it came to you? When it came to everything you made him feel?

Words felt useless.

So he showed you in the only ways he knew how.

By making sure you never walked home alone. By slipping extra cash into your pockets when he knew you were struggling. By waiting outside your café at night just to make sure you were safe.

And then, one night, he just… said it.

He hadn’t planned to. Hadn’t even thought about saying it yet. But you were standing in the kitchen, rambling about something that happened at work, and he was just watching you—watching the way your eyes lit up, the way your hands moved when you spoke, the way you existed in his space like you belonged there.

And before he could stop himself—before he could think about what it meant—he said it.

“I love you.”

You froze.

For a second, his heart stopped.

And then, slowly, you turned to look at him. “What did you just say?”

Shit.

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly unsure if he should take it back, laugh it off—

But then you smiled.

Soft. Disbelieving. Radiant.

And just like that, the fear disappeared.

“You’re an idiot,” you whispered, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

You reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. “Say it again.”

He smirked, heart pounding. “I love you.”

And when you pulled him down into a kiss, he knew—he would never stop saying it.

From that moment on, Seungcheol stopped caring who knew.

His gang? They figured it out the second they saw the way he looked at you.

His enemies? They learned the hard way that you were the one line they could never cross.

And you?

You never once made him feel like he had to choose between the world he built and the world you gave him.

Because somehow, somehow, you became both.

And Seungcheol—ruthless, untouchable Seungcheol—was yours in every way that mattered.

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melwsnt · 2 days ago

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────── ⋆⋅☆ SLOW MORNINGS, SAM WINCHESTER

summary. Slow mornings in bed with Sam.

slight mention of sex but no smut!

word count. 683

I wrote this in 15 minutes but I need requests because I’m out of ideas! Pls send some (whatever character on my master list pinned on my account is fine!) and interact w this<3

my masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Sam would be lying if he said that his favorite time of day was anything other than mornings spent with you.

It’s always the same exact routine, and yet neither of you will ever get tired of it.

You feel Sam’s bare chest on your back, you feel his arms squeeze your middle as to let you know that he’s awake, and that for some reason he can sense that you are too.

You stay like that for a while, a lot of the time, you just stay in complete and utter silence, taking the moment in.

There’s a dim light left from the night before, coming from the nightstand behind Sam.

You let out a content sigh, before Sam speaks.

‘Morning, beautiful.’ He lays his lips on your cheek, and kisses you softly, just in time for you to turn around, and end up in his chest.

‘Hi.’ Your arms go around his body, and you look up.

‘You talk in your sleep.’ Sam whispers to you.

‘No I don’t.’ You look at him with confusion, and a bit of amusement.

‘You so do. You snore too.’

‘Now you’re just lying for fun!’ You unhook your arms from his body and slap his chest.

Sam laughs, and it’s your favorite sound.

You laugh too, while smiling at him, and Sam swears that he sees an entire future or mornings just like this. You by his side, laughing and making jokes, staying warm in each other’s embrace.

‘What?’ You interrupt Sam’s train of thoughts.

‘What?’

‘It’s rude to stare, you know?’ You raise your brows at him.

‘I’m rude then. I like staring at you.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You get closer to him if that’s even possible.

Sam raises his hand to lay in your hair.

‘Hmm.’ He looks at you and suddenly your heart stops.

Sam looks at you like you’re the only good thing in this world- you’re not a saint by any means- but to him? You’re the most interesting being to ever walk earth.

After so long, he’s still trying to figure you out- he doesn’t mind, and he knows that you like to play with that.

‘Sam, seriously. What?’ You let out another laugh, and put a hand over your mouth to suppress it.

‘I just- I can’t believe you’re mine.’ Sam says, and your eyes light up.

‘Well, you better get used to it.’ You kiss him.

It’s tender, it’s sweet, and it’s full of love. Sam will never get used to it. He’ll never get used to waking up next to you every morning, to hearing you say ‘I love you’ or to you never leaving his side even when he fucks up.

Both of you smile in the kiss, before sam breaks it.

You’re left with a pout, and let out a small ‘hey.’

Sam pushes your shoulder down so you lay on your back, and he’s suddenly on top of you.

‘You know, I read somewhere not long ago, that morning sex increases your chances of having a good day. More energy and all.’ Sam says, a small smile dancing on his lips, his hands tracing patterns over each side of your body.

‘Oh yeah? Where’d you read that exactly?’ You bite your lip.

Sam pretends to think before saying ‘You know, morning journal probably.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yep.’ He then leaves a trail of kisses over your jaw and your neck.

‘You know, if you wanna have sex with me, you can just say so.’ You once again raise your brows at him.

‘Fine. I really, really wanna have sex with you. If you’d let me.’

You both burst out laughing feeling like two stupid teenagers.

Sam kisses you again interrupting your laughter. It’s more passionate, more fiery, it’s needier. It’s like a huge explosion, suddenly his hands are all over you, your hands grip on his back.

It’s not like every single morning starts like that- or maybe they do, but you wouldn’t trade that for the world, because for a little bit, it’s just you and him, and the outside world doesn’t exist.

#imagine #fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction

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cynicalpurple · 3 days ago

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Love at First Sight | Choi Seung Cheol

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!Reader (reader is a pediatric doctor)

Genre: a little angst

Warning: hospital environment and a very small mention of alcohol, maybe? (let me know if there's anything else)

This took me longer than expected because this past few days have been a roller coaster. But! The third part is finally done (read part 1 and part 2 before reading this to enjoy it better)

Seungcheol had to act. He couldn’t just walk away and never see her again—no, that wasn’t an option. He wanted her in his life. But what if she rejected him? Has she ever even shown interest in him? Y/N’s smile was always gentle and she directed that smile toward him a couple of times. She also remembered the things he talked about. But that didn’t mean anything, right? It’s just the way her personality is—always kind and sweet to everyone. That was what he liked about her. Yes, he had decided. He was going to ask her on a date.

“Your knee is healing properly. The wheelchair is no longer needed, but don’t put too much strain on your left leg, alright? Come back in a month for a check-up. That’s all, you can go” Seungcheol nodded and thanked the doctor. He stood in the hallway with his manager by his side. “Well, you heard him. Let’s go” the manager said while grabbing Seungcheol’s bag, but he didn’t move “Can we wait for a bit? There’s someone I want to see…”. The manager wasn’t convinced, but he indulged him and they both took a seat in the hallway. An hour passed, but Y/N was nowhere to be seen. That was unusual. Seungcheol knew, after observing her routine for over a month, that she was constantly walking around the hallways…where was she? The manager was getting anxious, he was told to drive Seungcheol to his apartment to rest. “I think we should get going” but Seungcheol insisted on waiting just a little longer. Half an hour crawled by, and unease settled in his chest. What if something had happened to her? Not being able to stay still any longer, he stood up and walked toward the desk of the pediatrics wing. “Excuse me, I’m looking for doctor Y/N…is she here?” The nurse behind the desk told him that she was attending a surgery that got complicated and that she was not going to be available for hours. Seungcheol nodded in thanks before turning to his manager, who was waiting patiently. Without another word, they left the hospital.

Each day felt colder without her. Seungcheol missed her—yearning for her warmth. He dreamed of waking up by her side but he was only waking up to an empty side of the bed. How was it possible to miss something that never happened? With each passing day without seeing her, his resolve began to crumble. He was scared—what if she just rejected him? He wasn’t sure if he could deal with that…wouldn’t it be easier to live with the what if? That way, it wouldn’t hurt as much…right? “Since when are you such a coward?” Woozi’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts that were forming in Seungcheol’s head “Just go and ask her for a date. If she rejects you then…well, at least you know you tried and we can all go out to drink something”. Just go and ask her…could he do that? Woozi is right though—he is no coward. He always fought for what he considered right, for his dream and for what he wanted…then why is he behaving like this now? Does it scare him so much to be rejected by her? It does. But if he doesn’t ask her—he will regret it later. Right. He had to try. Seungcheol stood up from the couch and while leaving Woozi’s studio said “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll call you later for that drink” the only answer he received was a low “good luck” that was drowned by the sound of the newest song Woozi was working on.

With his mind settled into asking her on a date, Seungcheol drove through the streets of Seoul toward the hospital. Where he expected to find—his love at first sight.

Don't kill me for ending it here!!! I promise to post the next part tomorrow. The thing is that I was anxious to post something so I decided to post this part that was already (in my opinion) ready to be posted today and to post the rest (that still needs a little bit of work) tomorrow~💜

Last part of this story~🍒

#seventeen #seungcheol x reader #svt x reader #choi seungcheol #svt imagines #svt angst #svt #svt fluff

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covenofagatha · 20 hours ago

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All that's left to burn (Part 3)

You're reeling from Lilia's tarot cards—who will be betrayed?

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: murder, gun play, threesome, oral sex, sex

Sacrifice. Betrayal.

The words echoing in your head drown out the casual conversation Agatha and Rio are having. Once or twice, they look toward you and you nod, feeling like your head is bobbing in molasses, but they don’t question you.

What if they turn you in? What if they cut a deal with the police? Who’s worth more to them: two killers from a small town or the former agent who killed an FBI director?

You honestly don’t know.

Maybe you could make a deal. You could say they made you do it, that you were blackmailed. They’ve been stalking you since you were about ten years old—except you killed that old woman when you were ten.

There isn’t a solution, there isn’t a way out. What do you do?

“Are you okay?” Agatha asks and her voice cuts through the ringing in your ears. She’s looking at you with an eyebrow arched and you stare blankly at her.

Rio reaches an arm out, fingers hesitating just mere inches from you. “You look like you’re going to be sick. Is it the pizza?”

You might be able to blame it on the food court if you had taken more than one bite. They’re peering at you curiously and you feel your airway constricting. “Yeah, I’m good, I just need to get some water.”

The metal chair legs screech against the linoleum floor as you slide back and stand up. You glance back as you walk away and see their heads close together, murmuring. A pit grows in your stomach. Maybe they’re plotting.

There’s the logical part of your brain that’s trying to talk you down from your hysteria and you desperately want to believe it. Agatha and Rio wouldn’t do that to you. They could’ve killed you a hundred times since you met them. They came back for you! They want to be with you! Are you really going to trust tarot cards? Those aren’t even real.

But the looks on their faces when you’d admitted you killed the man at the motel in Mississippi is still fresh in your mind. Shock…maybe a bit of annoyance…fear.

But they said they would help you next time!

Coldness slithers down your spine. What if that’s the trap? Get you to kill someone else and then call the police? Send you to prison?

You don’t even know what to think anymore. You have a hard time believing they would do that, but maybe they don’t think you’re worth it anymore.

The bells above the door to Madame Calderu’s Psychic Readings chime when you open it. You don’t even remember meaning to walk back here. Lilia isn’t in the room though so you wait for a few moments, trying desperately to avoid looking at the five tarot cards still laid out on the table.

Then you hear someone talking. It’s nothing more than mumbling and you can’t make any of the words out. You look around to try to discern where it’s coming from—there’s about a hundred strings of beads in all different colors hanging down from an empty doorway. You step closer, careful not to breathe too loud.

A floorboard creaks underneath you and the talking stops. You freeze. The voice starts again and you recognize Lilia.

“It’s okay…it’s okay…you know it hurts a little…it’s okay,” she says and your brow furrows. There’s a loud sniff and you wonder what’s happening. Who is she talking to? What is she doing? What might hurt a little?

But the lines of beads are too thick and you can’t see anything.

And Agatha and Rio are waiting for you.

You clear your throat. “Um, Lilia?” The rustling stops. “Hi, I just wanted—” What did you want? How do you ask without telling her exactly what’s going on?

Maybe you should leave. This was a bad idea.

Before you can turn around and hurry to the door, there beads part and she’s standing there, looking a bit frazzled. You crane your neck to try to see who she was talking to, but the entrance is covered too fast when Lilia steps into the main part of the shop.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

Lilia smiles wryly and leads you back over to the table with her fingers lightly curled around your bicep. “Yes, of course. I’m just an old woman, dear, I’m prone to bouts of nonsense. Did you forget something? Your phone, your wallet?”

It serves as a reminder that you have neither of those with you. You have nothing. You are alone with two serial killers.

“No, I just was hoping for some clarification about the cards—”

She holds up a hand with rings on three of her fingers. “I can not give you clarification. Only advice.” She waits until you nod before continuing. “Do not allow the tarot to consume you. You might go crazy trying to understand what it means or how to avoid what you think will happen.”

“But I need to know!” you exclaim. Lilia purses her lips and you still can’t shake the feeling that you’ve seen her before. “I could be in danger—”

“—danger?” she interrupts, eyes flashing. “What happened to not believing in it?”

It seems like the wrong moment for her to try to make a point and you scowl. “I need to know if I’m going to be betrayed. Will they betray me?” Your voice cracks, giving away just how desperate you are to have it not be true.

Lilia sighs. “The cards do not lie. But just because you see what’s on the surface doesn’t mean you understand what’s underneath. You may think you know what the cards mean, but fate always has an interesting way of working out.”

You don’t really know what to make of that.

She sees the doubt still written on your face and sighs. Lilia turns to the table, reaches over, and picks up the Ten of Swords. The man still lies face down but the dark clouds above the shore look darker than they did before, if possible. Lilia conjures a pen from seemingly out of nowhere and scribbles something on the back.

When she hands it to you, you see a phone number scrawled out. Even though you have no real way of calling her, the bad taste in your mouth starts to lessen.

“In case you really are in danger and you can’t call the police,” she says earnestly and you meet her hazel eyes. There’s an almost knowing look and you genuinely think she might be a real psychic.

“Thank you,” you rasp, tapping the card against your palm before tucking it into your pocket.

Lilia smiles softly as you begin to walk away to the door. “Good luck with your journey.”

You stop dead-cold in your tracks and whirl back around. “A journey?”

“Aren’t we all on one?” she asks, rhetorical and unphased. You nod slowly, taking another step toward the exit, and she shrugs before snatching a rag off an end table and begins to shine a crystal ball.

She starts whistling a tune and you give her one last look before hurrying back to the food court.

Except Agatha and Rio aren’t there.

Paranoid fear grips your throat and you turn around in a circle, frantically looking for them, feeling the walls closing in. You thought they’d turn you in, but leaving you here in a run-down mall in the middle of Nowhere, Mississippi with absolutely nothing to your name?

That might be rock bottom. You’re not sure which is worse.

Stay calm. You’re okay. Stay calm. You’re okay. The mantra repeats itself over and over until the words have no meaning and blur together. Ever since you met them in Westview, your entire life has been upside down. Nothing makes sense. You’ve become a completely different person. Do you want to be this person? Is this really you? What did they do to you? But you can’t really blame them, can you? You enjoyed it. You wanted it. You are a murderer. Are you losing your mind? That must be what’s happening. Staycalmyou’reokaystaycalmyou’reokay—

“There you are!” someone says and grabs your shoulder from behind, breaking you from the spiral. Your FBI training kicks in reflexively and you grip tightly onto their wrist, flip them around while spinning quickly so that their back is now pinned against your front, your arm holding them in place. You get a mouthful of thick, dark hair and when the person struggles, while saying, “It’s me! It’s just me!” you realize that you’re holding Agatha hostage.

You let her go and she staggers away, turning around with a gleam in her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t know who you were,” you mutter.

“Don’t apologize. That was hot,” Agatha says with a wink and you feel a burst of heat in your stomach despite being incredibly weary of her.

Rio sidles up to you moments later, out of breath. “Where did you go? You didn’t come back, we were worried. I checked the bathroom and you weren’t there.”

That was going to be your excuse so you scramble for a new one. “I was just…looking for a water fountain. You know, old mall, I think there’s only one in this entire place. I had to walk almost completely to the other side.”

They don’t look entirely convinced but neither of them question you.

“Well, shall we get out of here?” you ask, walking toward the mall doors. “I think we could get through Arkansas by the end of today.” They step up next to you, matching your strides, and out of the corner of your eye, you see them share a glance.

“We were thinking,” Agatha says and you glance at her, “maybe once we get into Arkansas, we could spend the day there. Find a hotel, go for a swim, relax for a little bit.”

“And if our little murderer needs to blow off some steam,” Rio jokes, nudging your elbow, and your body tenses just slightly enough that they don’t notice.

Is this their plan? Entrap you while you’re killing someone?

You try to brush it off. “No, I’m feeling okay, I feel like we should keep moving. I’m sure they’ve found the dead man in Jackson and we’re only a few hours away. We should put some more distance between us and him. Just because we’re ‘dead’ in Miami doesn’t mean they still can’t track us down.”

“Oh, come on,” Agatha goads, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “don’t pretend like you aren’t just itching to do it again. Rio and I are.” You look at the other woman to find her nodding hungrily, teeth bared. Agatha lowers her voice. “Plus, it’s kind of like our wedding night. What better way to celebrate it than kill someone for the first time all together?”

Nausea rises in your stomach. That’s a pretty fucked up way to put it. “Yeah, okay, let’s do it,” you whisper reluctantly, because if you protest anymore, they might get suspicious.

They begin talking about supplies you’ll need—the murder weapon, cleaning supplies, gloves, how to avoid getting blood on your clothes—and you’re violently forced to remember just how adept they are at this. Even though they don’t have Agatha’s poisons which stopped the heart in a gruesome way and limited bleeding when Rio cut it out, efficient methods fly back and forth. You don’t give any input because you’re not very good at this part of it.

You weren’t exactly worried with cleaning up your mess when you murdered the two men in your sleep. And Tony was a copy-cat kill, plus you had the vial of Agatha’s poison. And the woman from the woods, well. That wasn’t exactly thought-through at all.

“What do you think, doll?” Rio asks and it jolts you out of your thoughts. Both of them are looking at you intently.

“Oh, I’m good with whatever. Arson isn’t a bad way to do it,” you say, immediately wanting to take it back. There’s no thrill in arson, even though you think it’s less likely for them to be able to catch you in a trap that way.

Agatha raises an eyebrow.

But maybe if you can set things up on your terms, you won’t give them a chance to betray you. Your pulse starts to race at the thought of turning the tables.

If you ask them to get the supplies, they’ll be on tape preparing for the murder. You can pick the house, one that’s secluded in the middle of the woods, preferably not near a police station or anything. In this part of the country, it shouldn’t be that hard. You could use the victim’s phone, maybe take an incriminating video or photos of Agatha and Rio to use as leverage if they do try anything.

You may think you know what the cards mean, but fate always has an interesting way of working out.

Lilia’s warning makes you pause. What if, by doing this, you’re the one who betrays them? What if they’re planning nothing like what you’re accusing them of and you send them to jail? When their only crime was choosing you? Are you sacrificing them?

The overthinking is making your head hurt and you can’t tell what’s real or not real anymore.

“I think arson’s a little too on the nose,” Rio says levelly and you nod, not fully hearing her. “Strangulation’s not bad. Or maybe a gunshot. Obviously not as much of a ‘crime of passion’ or as ‘dramatic’ as we used to be, but for the purposes of not drawing too much attention to ourselves…”

“Rio’s right,” Agatha decides and your gaze snaps to her. “We just need something simple. Let’s start driving again and once we cross the border, we’ll start looking for a convenience store. We’ll need gloves for sure, hats and sunglasses might not be a bad thing just to keep anyone from noticing us.”

You frown and try to make one last-ditch attempt to stop you from being betrayed by them or stop you from betraying them. You don’t even know which one is right at this point. “If it’s going to be something simple, why bother at all? I’m really okay and you both seemed totally fine when we made the rule to stop killing. You don’t have to do this just because you think it’s what I want.”

Rio saunters toward the car and tosses a wink over her shoulder at you. “We’re just in the mood for some really hot sex. To, you know, consummate our eternal bond. Oh, the romance.”

Agatha takes your hand and rubs the ring that’s now painfully digging into your flesh. Ironic, you think.

You’ll get your leverage. But you won’t use it. If they aren’t going to hurt you, you won’t have to hurt them.

But it’s better to be safe than sorry.

——

It’s dark out by the time you’re all ready.

There had been a gas station just over the Arkansas border where Agatha had used up most of the remaining cash you’d pooled together before you left. Rio had gone in, jamming a baseball cap low on her head, and got three soggy sandwiches, a box of latex gloves, and wet wipes. You had given her a look when she tossed the wipes and the box into the back seat.

“What?” she said, a bit of a snap to her tone. “This gas station wasn’t selling bleach.”

The pit in your stomach only grew more after that.

Agatha finally found a grocery store and you were the one that had to go in and buy some ropes just in case you’d need them. Agatha and Rio were already seen on the cameras at the gas station, they reasoned, and it was better to keep reappearances across town to a minimum. So you traipsed down the aisles, picking up rope, extra pairs of clothes, a bag of chips, and a bottle of wine.

Getting a little tipsy certainly couldn’t harm anyone.

Until you were checking out and the cashier scanned the wine. She looked you dead in the face and asked, “Can I see your ID?”

You had stared blankly at her and she repeated the question. You shook your head and told her you didn’t need the wine and then she had called her manager over on the walkie-talkie, forcing you to sprint out of the store.

Both Agatha and Rio tried to hide how upset they were and you apologized until they eventually said they forgave you. But you had to get back on the interstate and drive another fifty miles before you could stop again just in case.

There was apparently no such thing as too paranoid.

Rio went into the grocery store that time and walked out carrying a bag with rope, three shirts, three pairs of pants, and three sets of plain bra and underwear.

The next batch of bad news came when Rio handed over Agatha all the money she had left and it was three dollar bills and about twenty-seven cents in change.

“We need to find someone who’s rich,” Agatha muttered. It gave the murder a bit more meaning and importance, just because if you didn’t do it tonight, you three wouldn’t make it much further at all.

So she’d driven just a bit further, until you got to Little Rock, and parked the car outside one of the nicer clothing stores. The engine was turned off and the three of you sat in silence, sweating, as you watched for someone who would do.

Hours passed and you’d gotten out to pee. Rio came with you and Agatha stayed back.

“It really does look good on you, you know?” she had said, looking at your ring in the mirror. You showed it off to her, catching light on the silver, and she kissed you slowly but hotly, which left you wanting more. But Rio had pulled back and tutted and on your way back to the car, you held open the door for a man.

He had put his hand on your waist, leaned in, and whispered, “Thanks, sweetheart.” Chills went up your spine and Rio glared daggers at him.

Rio slid back into the front seat of the car while you climbed in the backseat. She pointed to the man who was now walking down the sidewalk. The sun reflected off his Rolex watch and blinded you. An asshole and rich.

Perfect.

Agatha tailed him to his house. It was a big manor, relatively secluded, with a wrap-around porch. The exterior walls were blue with a white trim, and large windows were covered up by curtains. It was impossible to see inside the house. There was a brick walkway leading up to the stairs to the red front door and there was a standalone garage behind it.

Only one car, the one you followed.

The next hour is spent still waiting, parked on the street, just to see if anyone else comes to his home or if he left.

No one does, except for a blue car that drives by, and the moment the pinks and purples of the sunset fade into a dark blue, Rio opens the glove compartment and pulls something out before fastening the rope around her waist. You grab three pairs of latex gloves and hand them around and shove the wet wipes into your pocket. Your fingers brush against the tarot card that Lilia gave you and you stiffen.

A reminder.

The plan is for you and Rio to sneak around the back while Agatha goes up to the front door because the man doesn’t know who she is. You’ll either find an unlocked door or window or break one. Agatha will keep distracting him and then you’ll get him from behind, tie him up, and take him to the living room. That’s as far as you all got.

Planning an un-incentivized murder wasn’t the same as when you had a reason for it. You figured you’d cross that bridge when you got there and figure out what felt right. Plus, as Agatha pointed out, it might be better to use what’s in the house. That way, it would just look like a robbery gone wrong.

What they don’t know is that you’re going to take his phone. Even if you don’t get anything incriminating right now, at least you’ll have something. You’ll be a little less stranded.

In just about twelve hours, you’ve gone from feeling completely accepted and loved to alienated and afraid. This whole mess seems reckless and stupid now.

Did I choose the right path?

You had been so certain that you had. And now you just want to cry.

Rio waves you along once you get out of the car and you sneak up the yard in the shadows, press against the side of the house, and creep around to the back. You peer around the gutter pipe at the corner of the house to see the same man from the store wearing a red apron over a gray t-shirt and jeans while flipping a burger on the outside grill. The patio door that leads to the house is wide open.

Rio snickers as he takes a swing of beer and spills it all over himself. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and goes back to tenderly poking the meat with his spatula.

The doorbell rings. Agatha.

The man curses, cleans his hands off his apron, and takes the burger off the grill, setting it onto an open patty. He heads inside, leaving the door wide open. You and Rio both put your gloves on.

Rio makes a beeline for the burger and takes a bite. Red liquid pours down her chin and it looks like she’s bleeding. A heat flickers to life inside you, both from the visual and from the anticipation of what’s about to happen, even though you’re nervous.

Your first feeling when you enter the house through the back is disappointment. He has a house this nice and this is what he does with it?

There’s one couch facing a giant flatscreen television in the living room and posters of football jerseys hanging up on the wall. You can tell Rio’s thinking the same thing by the disgusted wrinkle of her nose. The island is fully covered in whiskey bottles and wine glasses and hard seltzers and you’re sure if you looked in the refrigerator, there would be nothing more than some lunch meat and maybe an expired bottle of mustard.

Agatha’s voice is growing louder, maybe a sign that her conversation is ending, and Rio rummages around in a drawer in the kitchen. You’re standing guard, keeping your eyes peeled around the corner to the front door, where Agatha is gesturing wildly. She’s going on and on about how her car broke down and she lost her phone and she doesn’t know where she is and the man keeps trying to interject, but she won’t let him. You smile softly despite the tension in your body.

There really is something about her.

“How’s this?” Rio whispers, nudging against you and showing you what’s in her hand. It’s a meat tenderizer.

You raise your eyebrows at it and nod, pursing your lips. “Yeah, I think it’ll do the job.”

She hands it to you and you swallow roughly. It feels heavy and you tap the end against your other hand, imprinting the pattern into the latex. You can’t wait to take the gloves off. Your hands are sweaty and itchy.

As you’re tip-toeing behind him, out of the corner of your eye, you see his phone resting on the foyer table. Your steps almost falter but you switch your gaze back to him and you think you see Agatha’s eyelashes flutter in a wink.

He must notice that Agatha is looking behind him and he turns. His eyes widen in shock at you and before you can think too hard, you swing the tenderizer.

It hits his temple, there’s a shower of blood, and he crumples to the floor with a groan. Exhilaration rushes through you and even though you think you might be in danger, you remember why you picked this path.

You can almost feel the blood flowing through your veins, feel the fog in your head lift, feel the electricity cackling under your skin. There’s a dull heartbeat in your core that only worsens with the dark heat in Agatha’s eyes and the hunger in Rio’s gaze as they look at you, your face dotted with specks of red.

Everything seems to be in slow motion until Agatha closes the front door and hurries over to the man, who is twitching on the ground like a fish out of water.

Now’s your chance.

Rio grabs the man’s legs and Agatha grips his wrists and together, they haul him over to the couch. Rio slips the rope off her torso and binds his hands together. He’s moaning something unintelligibly and you inch backwards toward the phone.

All you have to do is slip it into your pocket.

You hear them talking quietly about what to do with them, about if Rio and you saw anything in the kitchen, when you turn around to pick up the phone.

There’s a click and your breath catches. Chest rising and falling, you swallow hard before pivoting and the tenderizer slips from your hand and falls with a loud thud.

Rio has a gun pointed right at you. It’s a revolver, by the looks of it, with a long, thin silver barrel and a pearl grip. “What are you doing, doll?” she asks casually.

“I was just—nothing, I just was going to see if he had any money,” you stammer.

Rio takes a step toward you and the man on the couch starts to freak out. Agatha takes a piece of paper, crumples it up, and stuffs it into his mouth.

“Are you sure? Because it looked like you were trying to get the phone,” Rio says, pointing the tip of the gun down at the end table. “Oh my god, shut up!”

The man is hysterical now, sobbing, whimpering around the make-shift gag, and Rio rolls her eyes, turns around, and shoots him right between the eyes. You jump.

The air seems to tighten with fear, dread, and danger. Your brain moves a hundred miles a minute trying to plan an escape should you need one.

Rio advances toward you and you try not to cower, even as she clicks the hammer and the cylinder of bullets spins.

“Where did you get that?” you ask.

She grins maniacally. “At the store back in Mississippi. What were you planning on doing with the phone?”

“I just wanted to check the news,” you scramble and Rio raises an eyebrow. You briefly look past her at Agatha, who’s browsing the living room. She doesn’t meet your gaze. “You know, see if there was anything about the man from the hotel or from my house back in Miami. Just to see if the police had anything.”

Rio muses on this and nods slowly. “Do it quick then.”

You grab the phone and tap the screen. It comes to life on a picture of a model with barely-covered cleavage. You ignore it and swipe up.

Please enter the passcode or use face ID.

Grimacing, you show Rio the screen. She takes the phone from you and calls out Agatha’s name while you lose all hope in your plan. Rio keeps the revolver trained on you while Agatha walks the phone over to the dead man and holds it out in front of his face. You wonder if the bullet hole in his forehead will cause any problems, but Agatha comes back a moment later and hands the phone back to you, unlocked.

You open Google and type in news. Rio’s moved closer to you so you don’t dare try anything else. You can only see the first few words of the headlines and you scan them quickly for anything that stands out.

Attempted prison break out in…

Should cops ride horses? The answer…

27 ways to use corn in…

“Anything?” Rio asks with a taunting tone.

Shaking your head, you turn the phone off and try to keep your hands from trembling as you set it behind you. The latex gloves are killing you and so you rip them off and shove them into your pocket.

Rio tuts and motions to the ground. “Get on the floor.”

Heart pounding, you drop to your knees and gasp as she presses the revolver against your head.

Is this it?

Is this how it ends?

Agatha comes up behind her wife so they’ll be the last two people you see. It’s fitting, really. They were the ones who brought you to life, so to speak.

Rio’s finger finds the trigger and the thrumming inside you, under your skin, only grows worse. So close to death, and yet, you feel so alive. Do they feel it, too?

There’s a wild look on Rio’s face as she stares down at you and a matching expression on Agatha’s.

“You look so pretty like this,” Rio coos and your body feels like it’s overheating.

It forces you back to the night when you found them in that house, having killed the man and the woman after handcuffing you to the bed. A gun had been against you that time, too. Your own gun.

Will she pull the trigger this time?

Or will it end the same way?

Your body betrays you and you feel the pool between your legs. Not only do you get off on murder apparently, you now get off on the sense that you could be murdered.

But it’s not really about that.

It’s about the control.

“I think she’s enjoying this, Rio,” Agatha says in a hushed, awed voice and you bite your bottom lip, refusing to give her that satisfaction.

Rio trails the gun down the side of your face and you shiver. “I think you’re right. Our little superstar likes the danger.”

She presses the muzzle to your mouth. You can feel the cold metal against your teeth and your heart rate skyrockets.

“Do you trust us?” Agatha asks and your eyes flick to hers. The vein in her forehead is throbbing and she looks like she’s losing herself in the visual.

Do you trust them?

Can you trust them?

Betrayal. Sacrifice.

If they were going to kill you, they would’ve done it by now. If they were going to turn you in, they would’ve done it by now.

You nod your head ever so slightly and swear their expressions light up. The condensation from your muffled breaths fogs up the silver barrel. She takes the gun away for just a second to take off her gloves before putting it right back where it was.

“Open your mouth, baby,” Rio says, the gentleness standing in stark contrast to the extra pressure she puts on your lips with the muzzle.

Your mouth drops open just enough for her to slip the tip of the gun in, her finger still on the trigger. You’ve seen how precise she is with a knife so you’re not worried about her accidentally pulling it, but just the knowledge that she could has you heating up even more.

She pushes the barrel further in, the muzzle almost reaching the back of your throat, and you gag around it. Agatha chuckles breathlessly and if you weren’t trained to notice these kinds of things, you’d probably miss the slight twitching in her hands and the almost indiscernible way she shifts her weight. You want them—you need them.

Holding eye contact with Agatha, you begin to bob your head slowly up and down the barrel of the gun and Rio lets out a small gasp. It’s getting to them both maybe more than they thought but it just adds to the pulsing of your clit.

Their darkness has threatened to overwhelm you since you were ten years old.

But now you want it to.

They wouldn’t betray you because you’re too much like them. You feel things the same way they do. They need this too much—need you too much.

Just like you need them.

Rio rips the revolver out of your mouth with a wet pop, strands of your saliva still sticking to it, and she tugs you up by your hair before pulling your mouth to hers. She engulfs your lips with a dominating hunger and you slump against her body because your knees ache from kneeling on the floor for that long. Her arms come around you to catch you and she slips her tongue into your mouth. You bite it and the metallic taste of her blood fills your tastebuds, joining the silvery tang still left from the gun.

Agatha yanks you off her by the scruff of your neck and clashes her lips onto you, moaning at the copper hint she tastes. Rio steps behind you and pushes up your shirt and you gasp at her cold hands on your bare skin. You frantically pull at Agatha’s pants, just needing something to quell the ache inside you.

“I need—please—need to touch you, need you to touch me,” you whimper against Agatha and feel her smirk.

Is there a way to do this without getting your DNA everywhere? Before, they had their top-grade cleaning supplies so they didn’t have to worry about that. Now, you have a packet of wet wipes.

They don’t seem to care.

Agatha walks you back into the kitchen, presses you against the island, mouth never leaving yours. Rio trails after you and sweeps all of the alcohol off it, sending it shattering on the floor. You pull away from Agatha for a second to raise an eyebrow at her.

Rio shrugs. “It’ll look more like a break-in.”

You accept it and Agatha’s tongue is shoved into your mouth. She puts her hands on your lower back to hoist you up so you’re sitting on the marble countertop and unbuttons your pants. You help her pull them over your ass and down your legs to your ankles while she breathes into your open mouth. There’s a furious ache inside you and when Agatha slips her hand into your underwear and touches your clit, you see white.

Someone’s hands grip your hair and drag you away from Agatha, who looks excited. Glancing behind you, you see that Rio has climbed onto the island behind you. Her legs are bare. Your breath stutters in your throat as she lowers you until you’re laying on your back on the cool marble, Rio looking down at you.

Agatha sinks to her knees so her head is level with your clothed cunt and pulls you closer to the edge by the back of your legs. Her hot breaths against the wet fabric of your underwear make you shiver. She pulls the gusset over just as Rio moves over you, positioning her own bare pussy right above your watering mouth. You can see her folds glistening and almost fused together and you can smell her and you’d surge up and begin tasting her if you didn’t know better.

Agatha finally licks up your slit with her flattened tongue and it makes you keen right before Rio lowers herself onto your mouth. You’re immediately overwhelmed by her and you start rubbing her clit enthusiastically. She is wet. Her thighs tighten around your head and she already throbs just from the little stimulation and watching Agatha go down on you.

Agatha’s tongue dips inside you, stroking against your walls, and you make a sound that’s muffled by Rio’s cunt. The woman on top of you gasps and her hips buck, smearing wetness all over your face.

“Yes, fuck, doll, right there,” Rio groans, riding your face fast, more liquid leaking out of her into your waiting mouth. You swirl your tongue around her clit and you feel it pulse. Rio rakes up your shirt even more, hiking it to just below your bra, and digs her nails into your stomach. Your back arches off the counter, allowing Agatha’s tongue to get deeper inside you, and you groan loudly.

You suck on Rio’s clit right when Agatha scrapes her teeth against yours and you and Rio both make strangled sounds. Sparks are racing under your skin, tension building in your stomach that’s been growing since you walked into this man’s house, and the pleasure Agatha is giving you is making you dizzy. Your cheeks are sticky and your tongue is burning but the fire in your stomach is roaring, finally being fed, and is there really anything more romantic than this?

Than finding not one person, but two, who accept you, who see the darkness inside you and nourish it, who love you despite it? Maybe even because of it?

Agatha bites your inner thigh roughly and the pain bleeds into a new pleasure, the sting of her teeth only making your clit throb even more. Your walls are clenching sporadically, hips grinding up and down on her face, and Rio is doing the same thing on top of you.

Your mouth movements become sloppy against her but you do your best to double down and lap at her clit while occasionally moving down to shove your tongue inside her cunt. She always lets out a breathy gasp when you do and it sends a tingle straight down to your pussy, where Agatha just makes it worse.

It’s like you’re in a whirlpool, getting sucked down into them, spinning out of control, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. All thoughts of the tarot cards are gone, thrown out by Agatha’s mouth pushing you higher than you’ve ever been, and you find it silly how nervous you were.

“God, so good, fuck, I’m going to come,” Rio groans, writhing around on top of you, and she grinds down hard against your tongue, taking what she needs. You let out a muffled noise, the vibrations making her thighs shake, and Agatha picks up her speed too, tongue thrashing around your clit. Her nails dig into your legs and you gutturally moan into Rio’s cunt.

She comes all over your face, more wetness gushing out, with a loud exhale. Rio still rides your face gently and you keep your tongue flattened so she can come down from the aftershocks.

Agatha slots a hand up between your thighs and roughly pushes two fingers into you, curls them just right, and you see stars. Your orgasm hits you hard and Rio has to climb off your face because the echoes from the sounds you’re making are too much against her sensitive pussy. Agatha keeps licking at your clit and fucking you with her fingers until you weakly sit up and grab onto her hair.

You tug her head up, a flash of pleasure running through you when you see your wetness staining her cheeks, and notice that she has a hand shoved into her pants. Your mouth drops open.

Rio chuckles lowly as she slides off the counter and saunters over to her wife. She pulls Agatha’s hand out of her pants and salaciously takes Agatha’s middle three fingers into her mouth. They hold heated eye contact and you’re tempted to sneak a hand back between your legs.

Once cleaned sufficiently, Agatha slips her fingers out of Rio’s mouth and dries them on her shirt.

“Let’s check for money,” Agatha says, voice significantly deeper. You push yourself off the counter with a strong effort and pull up your pants. Rio gets dressed next to you.

While Agatha searches the kitchen for cash, Rio goes upstairs, and you run the wet wipes over the counter in the hopes you’ll erase any trace of you or Rio.

Rio bounds down the stairs holding a thick wad of bills, about two thousand dollars after she counts it.

“That should last us a little bit,” Agatha approves and Rio grins while she tucks it inside her pocket.

For good measure, you smash a window with your elbow that you wrap in one of the man’s jackets and Rio retrieves the bullet from his forehead. You definitely wouldn’t have thought of that, but it’ll make it harder for them to track down the gun now.

Agatha raids the pantry and doesn’t find much besides Monster energy drinks and packets of ramen noodles.

You’re reminded that men are very predictable.

“Everyone ready?” Agatha asks. You and Rio both nod and check out the peephole to the door to see if anyone is there. A blue car drives by but once it’s out of sight, you three make a break for the car.

“Good wedding night?” Rio jokes, glancing back at you once Agatha starts to pull into the road.

You snort but nod. “Just how I pictured it,” you tease.

Agatha laughs and looks over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure you did. Murder and sex—what else do you need?”

Something is folded in your pocket weirdly and it’s making sitting uncomfortable. You reach in and pull it out.

The Ten of Swords.

Contemplating it, you chew on your bottom lip. You feel bad for doubting Agatha and Rio, they wouldn’t hurt you. You’re convinced more than ever now that they wouldn’t betray you, or sacrifice you.

But there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

Just because you see what’s on the surface doesn’t mean you understand what’s underneath.

Is there something you’re not seeing?

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