#one: I REALLY should’ve figured it out sooner

[fagbearentertainment]

When I was like 15 I read a kazuichi soda x reader and imagined myself as a guy in the story because “being a girl dating a guy feels weird to me for some reason”

it still took me 4 years to realize I’m a guy that likes guys after that

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Frowny Face

Summary: Nobara and Itadori try to figure out the similarities between Megumi and his son. They manage to find that the infamous Zen'in frowny face is a dominant trait.

Tags: Megumi x F!Reader, Humor, Fluff, SFW, 1200 wc

Notes: I had this drafted for weeks. After seeing the epilogue and the grandkids, wish I had posted sooner, I felt there wasn't a more appropriate time for this. Happy belated-birthday 'gumi.

“No, no, look again, he definitely has his eyes,” Itadori points out.

Nobara lowers her face towards the baby currently blinking at the two of them from the comfort of his plush crib. Megumi stands off to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest and an increasingly spreading scowl as his two friends, if he could call them that right now, poke and prod at his kid.

Nobara was the first one to point out how much his child was growing and starting to resemble his parents before noticing that his new emerging features leaned heavily to your side of the family, leading to this search to pick out their similarities.

“I’m not seeing it,” Nobara disagrees, failing to find the hint of dark blue that Itadori swears he can see in the baby’s right pupil. To her, all she can see is black all the way through both eyes, like the majority of the Zen’in clan geezers from those centuries old family books she helped Maki trash; unfortunately, this didn't include Megumi so they couldn't even count it. With a hand on her hip, she turns to Megumi. “Sheesh, he doesn’t resemble you at all. The misses really said copy and paste, huh?”  

Megumi huffs, about three seconds away from shooing them into the kitchen where you’re making dinner. That’s until Itadori pipes up, “Sure he does.” And for a second, Megumi thinks they’ll finally drop this silly discussion. “He has the same grumpy face his dad does.”

Megumi sighs. He should’ve known better.

“Now that you mention it,” Kugisaki can barely contain her laughter as she reaches into the crib and gently pinches a chubby cheek. Your son makes no expression at her playful squeeze or poke to his belly. His tiny legs kick the same way any other baby would when tickled, but the flat line on his face refuses to budge. “This is the least smiley baby I’ve ever seen,” she concludes while Itadori nods in agreement as he goes in to tickle the baby’s foot – just to make sure.

Megumi knows the two idiots don’t mean any harm by it, being the person to receive the brunt end of their jokes and observations over his life, the kind that can only be made out of innocent obliviousness and overconfidence, but he can’t help but feel more defensive when it’s his kid.

“Do you two have nothing better to do than to shame a baby?” he gripes. “It’s late, go home.”

“Oh, lighten up, we were only teasing. He’s adorable,” Nobara dismisses as she notes how much bigger her future-partner-in-crime has become over the past few months. Looking back on it, she can’t recall any time she’s heard him laugh or much of anything. Sure, she’s seen him get fussy while babysitting, but she’s rarely heard him cry. “But you have to admit he isn’t very expressive…for a baby,” she mentions with a hint of concern, concern that isn’t needed from Megumi’s point of view.

“Maybe you two just aren’t funny,” he says, watching the way Itadori attempts to get his son to laugh by making silly faces; it results in little more than a fist full of pink hair getting tugged.

“I’m being serious. I mean…” she tilts her head, trying to word it delicately. “Does he smile at all?”

Megumi nods. “He smiles.”

“Does he?” Itadori presses, craning his neck as he struggles to free his hair.

“He does,” Megumi repeats, his eyes softening at the memory of that innocent and joyful giggle he first heard like an unimaginable dream come true. “It’s just when you’re not around.”

Nobara rubs at the back of her neck apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean any offense by it. He’s a good baby,” she compliments before moving to help free Itadori’s hair from his iron-like grip. “And strong too,” she adds, looks at him, and clicks her tongue when she once again fails to find the bit of blue Itadori mentioned earlier, but it provides an opportunity to cut through the awkwardness they unwittingly created. She fakes a sigh. “Unlike your genes. I don’t think they even had a battle plan.”

“Very funny,” he puffs out between their chuckles then he hears another voice coming from the direction of the kitchen.

“That’s not true,” you say as you pad into the room with a milk bottle in hand, the grin on your face trembling as you try not to laugh with them. “They have a lot in common.” You begin to list off on your fingers. “They both like the same fruit and animals, he really likes books when you read to him, and do you think his hair maintains itself?”

Nobara breathes out an "oh" at your explanation. “So, he gets mom's good looks to balance out dad's aloof personality? Makes sense."

Your resistance breaks as you let out a giggle, ignoring the pout on your husband’s face. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“No, we should really get going,” Nobara states with a small yawn. “Mission reports won’t write themselves.”

You nod, handing Megumi the bottle of milk as you walk the others to the door and wave them off.

“Have a good night,” Itadori calls out while Nobara makes you promise to phone her tomorrow and to come hang out if you’re free.

Locking the door, you walk back in and head towards the crib.

“You really shouldn’t entertain them when they get like that," Megumi reminds you.

“You know they only do it to mess with you. It’s how they show they like you.”

“You mean they’re idiots.”

“Yet you open the door right up every time they come over.”

Megumi gives you a doubtful look. “Not by choice. It’d be like trying to stop a rampaging bull from barging in,” Megumi states, and you let out an amused huff. 

No matter how much he complains and comments that they haven't changed one bit after leaving school, he enjoys them. You remember how excited he seemed when Itadori called to ask if it was okay to pop in since they were nearby. Well, excited in that he immediately started to straighten out the house even though he had already cleaned earlier that morning. It's cute little quirks that often gives him away and the ones that make you like him even more.

“If it makes you feel better, I think you have a great personality and good looks,” you compliment with a brush of your hand over his hair. You look down at your son, who still seem unmoved by all the events of the evening. It makes you laugh because Nobara and Itadori were right. Your son does have Megumi’s ever-dull facial expression. 

“And both my boys have the cutest frowny faces,” you say, holding up your son to your face to nuzzle his nose. As you pull him away, your eyes brighten at the wide smile that flashes on his face followed by a warm giggle. “Hello to you too,” you coo and cuddle him again, causing another fit of giggles to fill the room, and the sound resonates in his chest and makes him forget any problems that arose on the way to getting to this point in his life.

“You forgot to tell them one thing,” Megumi says, coming forward to kiss your temple. As he told the others, his son does smile, and Megumi does too. “They both smile when they see mommy.”

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 & 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ luke & kieran x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 1

tags : pwp (without plot), (or very little plot ig), threesome, somnophilia, cnc, heavy petting, marking, biting, vaginal fingering, slight clit play, nipple play, overstimulation, vaginal sex, anal fingering, unprotected sex, pulling out, cumshot, it gets preeettyyyy messy, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of pet names "baby" "sunshine" “pretty girl”. lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 4.9k (yeah…)

an : starting off the month with my favorite boys! <3 and i guess… it is luke and kieran… so this ended up a LOT longer than i intended it to be HAHSJKFHSKDNF

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @love-and-deepstrays @theanbitchless @m2ichaelis @keioxo (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

After missing a date, Luke and Kieran make it up to you… kind of.

↳ Are you going to be done soon?

That was the last text you’d sent, approximately half an hour ago.

And there had been nothing since.

The late reply of “↳ Yep, sorry, we’ll be there in ten!” remained unread on Luke’s phone, calls left unanswered—and no matter how many times Kieran would pester him about it, nothing else seemed to warrant a response. Truthfully, they almost had to wonder if this last-minute errand they’d been sent on was on purpose, but they had little mind to truly question their own boss. After all, they were more than willing to carry out his orders, in the end… It was only the timing that had been unfortunate.

Kieran eyed his brother as they padded across the living room to your bedroom door; “It’s your fault, you know. You should’ve stopped messing around, then we’d be done sooner.”

His voice was a lot calmer than Luke’s, who was more visibly disturbed by the fact that you hadn’t been responding to them. 

“Well, shit, but—where’s the fun in leaving just like that? Y’think she’s mad at us…? We told her we’d be late, though!”

“If she is, I don’t think we can blame her for it. We made a promise.”

The door to your bedroom was slightly ajar, and Kieran gently pushed it open. Two heads poked into the doorway.

“Ah, she’s adorable…”

Moonlight streamed in through the window, open just a little bit to let the nighttime breeze slip through. It was a lot different in Linkon than the N109 zone. A lot more peaceful, in a sense, and less dreary. The twins had taken some time to get used to being in the city more often, but they could understand why you were never too keen to spend time at the base. If you’d really gotten used to a place like this, then… The N109 zone really would be a shock.

And Kieran figured, too, that it was why you always tended to sleep better when you were here.

Small steps forward—it was Luke who approached your sleeping figure first, turned to your side facing towards the door and hugging one of your pillows between your legs. His hand reached out, a deft brush of his fingertips against your hair. “ God, she’s really beautiful. Look at how peaceful her smile is…”

Kieran sat down behind you, leaning over to peer at your expression. He looked as if he were to say something, but he turned his head to glance at the clock on your wall.

Past midnight.

“See, I told you we pushed it too long. No wonder she’s asleep.”

“But at least she isn’t mad at us…!”

“How would you know that?”

“Well, she could have just fallen asleep! She didn’t say she was mad at us!”

A pause, and a roll of eyes.

“Fine, then if she wakes up and scolds us, you’re doing what I say for a week.”

“Yeah?! Then if she doesn’t scold us, you’re doing what I say!”

You stirred slightly at that.

It was almost as if on cue, and the twins’ attention snapped immediately back to you. They’d been a little loud, that was certain. They were half expecting you to open your eyes…

But you didn’t.

They’d both let out a sigh of relief at that.

Nevertheless, Kieran took to following his brother’s earlier actions, reaching over to stroke your hair. Soft, gentle movements, trailing a finger down the side of your face for a moment before moving a lock of hair behind your ear. A fleeting kiss was placed over your eyelids, and for a moment, there was silence.

“...We should let her sleep, though,” he mumbled then. This time he spoke lower so as to keep you from stirring from your dreams as you had earlier.

Luke, however, had other ideas.

“What? After making that bet with me?! You’re just trying to get out of it now!”

“I’m not! Just, if she’s tired, then should we really be waking her up…?”

Luke huffed, pushing Kieran’s hand away from your face, and giving him a pointed look. “Relax! You know she’s already given us permission to do things like this, anyway!” Slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Hey… first one to wake her up gets to dish out orders for an extra week.”

“Luke—!”

Yet Kieran’s protest fell on deaf ears.

Without wasting a second, Luke rested his hand on your cheek and leaned in, a soft kiss placed upon your lips. The motion was slow and smooth, taking his time. And it was gentle. The flutter of his eyelashes tickled your skin as his eyes closed. There was always something so sweet in the way that Luke kissed you—now was not an exception. The feeling of it would linger, make you want more of it. Had you been awake, you wouldn’t have allowed him to pull away.

But he did.

Kieran almost seemed to be holding his breath, and both of them looked at you, once again, expectantly.

Another grin spread on Luke’s face. “Hmm, what do you know? Pretty girl sleeps soundly!” he chuckled.

With a click of his tongue, Kieran, this time, took to wrapping his arms around your figure as if to tug you closer to him. “As if you didn’t know! It took way more than a kiss to wake her up the last time we did this.”

“Ha! And as if you didn’t doubt it for a moment, too!”

“...Whatever. It’s my turn.”

Kieran scoffed at his brother before burying his face into your neck, easily attaching his lips to your skin. And unlike Luke, there wasn’t any gentleness laced into it. He suckled at your flesh in a more purposeful manner, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. His moves were calculated. Sure. If they were going to play this game, he intended not to lose.

In response, Luke let out a low whistle, sliding the pillow out of your grasp. “Y’know, sometimes, the resemblance is so uncanny,” he joked. “Sylus of you much?”

But those words only prompted the younger twin to slide his hand over your waist, moving downwards to lift up your nightgown. His insistence on leaving marks over your neck remained; he would shift from one spot to the next as if to leave proof of tonight’s activities. And slowly, his hand began to move up and down your thigh. He left light caresses, meant to soothe the graze of his teeth on your neck. He was silent, mostly. Allowing his mouth and his touch to do the work, suckling wet noises filling the room that made Luke let out a huff of indignance.

“Hey, no fair!”

Except, with both of them, the fact was that neither was keen on playing… “fair”.

Almost as if riled up by Kieran’s actions, he slotted himself between your arms, and subconsciously, the both of them could feel the way your neck craned, a leg moving upwards over Luke’s waist as if to hug him tighter. He’d taken your pillow, after all—and at the moment, unbeknownst to you yourself, he was serving as its replacement.

Not that he minded.

He treasured the momentary flash of envy that gleamed in Kieran’s eyes, clearly having wanted to receive the same attention from you. He grinned, and it was  almost triumphant. Enough for Kieran to narrow his eyes, deftly reaching to cup your mound into his hand.

“Aw, don’t be like that~” Luke continued to tease, lifting your nightgown high enough to bunch up over your breasts.

At this point, they had rendered you mostly exposed to them, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Eyes remained on each other, gauging the other’s reaction, almost as if waiting for the right moment to move.

It happened slowly.

Kieran was the first to move this time, dragging his middle finger from your clothed slit upwards. The motion repeated. Simple, unhurried strokes with the intention of getting you wet enough… and there was a pleased smile on his face when it did .

Wetness began to pool at your entrance, each touch causing the damp on the fabric to grow larger.

Yet, Luke was not one to leave all the satisfaction to his brother.

With a scoff, he leaned down to take your nipple into his mouth, circling it lightly with his tongue. His hand moved from your waist to cup the other, index and thumb reaching to give it a little brush. It was easy to have them pebble under his actions, and it was a reaction that served enough to keep that triumph in his eyes.

And then—

“M-mm…”

Both boys’ eyes shot up to your face.

The sound was breathy; thick with sleep.

Your lips were slightly parted, breathing a little quicker than usual.

But aside from that, you showed no other signs from stirring. Your eyes were closed. Still mostly unaware, you could feel a blossoming warmth settling somewhere into your stomach, their light touches familiar enough to coax out an involuntary response from your body despite your lack of consciousness—but it still not enough to wake you.

Again, the twins shared a look.

And, this time, it felt less like a competition… and more like a shared desire to pleasure you out of your sleep.

Perhaps, they thought, the bet would fall to null in the end.

Satisfied with the wetness that had pooled in your panties, Kieran pushed the fabric aside and circled a finger at your entrance. The movement gathered the slick of your arousal onto his finger, unmistakable wet noises even further proof of it. Leaning over your shoulder to watch, he slowly pushed it inside.

“She’s really warm.”

It was an objective comment.

“And she’s pretty like this,” Luke emphasized, always keen to shower you with compliments every moment he got. “Always so welcoming of whatever we do to her… She’s something else, huh?”

“She’s our pretty girl, after all.”

With a sigh against your neck and a nuzzle into your skin, his finger began to move inside you at a steady rhythm.

And this time, Luke let out a smirk.

While his lips moved back to suckling at your nipples in a fond manner, his hand slowly slid down your body to pause right next to Kieran’s. A brief moment of respite, anticipation somehow casting itself into the air, before his finger slid right in.

It was this intrusion that had you drawing in a breath, body jolting slightly in an instinctive response.

Yet you didn’t quite push them away, nor were you conscious enough to try to.

Instead, you welcomed the feeling.

It stirred deep in your consciousness; barely aware of what they were doing, yet aware of the vague pooling of pleasure that shifted around inside of you. Your hips moved. Slight, tiny jerks that felt more like jumps every time one of their fingers grazed against your sweet spot.

“Damn,” Luke let out a laugh under his breath. He placed a thumb to your clit, rubbing in light, teasing circles. “Kieran, look. She’s so cute!”

The younger twin let out a grin in response, this time fondly watching the slight twitches in your expression. His eyes were half-lidded, never quite leaving your own closed ones, and a soft sigh left his lips.

“Mhm,” he muttered. “I like it when she’s like this.”

A look of love—one that, if only you could have seen it, would have had you keening.

Their fingers moved in a cyclical pattern: slow rubs on your clit, plunging in and out of your heat in a steady rhythm, before switching to alternating in a level of synchronicity that they were quite proud they could pull off. Eventually, your chest heaved in response to the pleasure, a slight tremor settling into your thighs. Your eyebrows knitted together, and it was a display of pleasure the twins knew more than well, elated to witness such familiar reactions even in your current state. It almost seemed as if a rush of pleasure hazed over the three of you in that moment, so much that Kieran reached over to take out his cock to rub directly against your ass, Luke seizing the opportunity to add another finger into your hole as his tongue once again flicked at your nipples.

Your bodies had found a rhythm.

A little push and pull, hips rocking to meet the thrust of their fingers as if, despite your obvious haze of sleep, you simply couldn’t help but react to them.

And then for the first time that night, Kieran’s lips found yours.

His kisses were different.

If Luke’s had always been sweet, and slow, and smooth, Kieran’s were breathtaking. He could breathe you in just as you would him, deeper and deeper, as if your body could only melt into his mouth at the fervor with which he would move. He would kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you—such a stark contrast to the manner with which he carried himself, always a more passionate display of his affections that you wouldn't get from him otherwise.

Their fingers picked up the pace.

Kieran continued to rut against you, pushing their fingers deeper and deeper with each rock of his hips. Luke began to suck at your nipples in a harsher manner, pulling and tugging at them with more insistence. And, at this point, the pleasure more rapidly registering in your mind had you squirming in their hold.

It was getting harder to stay in a blissful state of ignorance.

Now, with Kieran pulling away from you to catch his breath, your mouth fell open in a groan, eyes moving in an almost confused manner behind your eyelids, too heavy to open them yet whirring your brain steadily more awake.

“Ooh, she’s about to wake up~” came Luke’s voice, a musical trill to it that let you know that he was pleased. Having since released your breasts with a wet ‘pop!’ , you could feel him lean in to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. “C’mon, c’mon… Wake up, baby, wake up…”

Their fingers curled, and with a cry you jolted awake, eyes blinking wide open as you reached out to latch onto Luke’s arm. Pleasure washed over you in crashing peaks, soothing whispers from both boys cooing into your ears.

Your vision was hazy, chest heaving in shock, and you felt lightheaded.

Yet you recognized the kisses that peppered the side of your face.

“Mngh… K- Kieran…?”

You barely had the energy to move, and yet, as if in retaliation to you mentioning only one of them, a thumb flicked once again over your puffy clit and you heard a scoff.

It made you jolt, and sleepily, you let out a smile and tried to blink yourself into focus, breath catching from your earlier orgasm.

“Hi,” you giggled a little. Your hand moved from his arm to his cheek, and his expression softened.

“Hi,” Luke murmured. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

With a sigh, you tilted your head back a little to nuzzle at Kieran’s cheek, before feeling your eyes fall back closed. “M’sleepy… You’re late, you guys…” you muttered.

“It was Luke’s fault.”

“Hey!”

“I told him to—”

You shook your head a little, effectively getting them to stop before a potential argument ensued. And in response, you felt a finger gently pull at your bottom lip, pushing inside your mouth when you’d happily obliged.

“Here, taste yourself,” came Kieran’s voice. “You were really wet. Did it feel good? Did we make it up to you?”

You sucked his finger clean before he pulled it back out, and you offered a little chuckle. You didn’t say anything in return, but instead pushed yourself against his erection, your hand sliding down to palm Luke through his pants.

“Shit— baby—”

You could have laughed at that immediate reaction, and the same sharp intake of breath from his twin. But instead, you found yourself letting out a yawn. “Mm, you did, sure… But I’m still sleepy. What about the problem you made for yourselves?”

“So you do want us to fuck you, after all.”

Kieran’s words, as straight-to-the-point as always, had you opening your eyes in mild embarrassment.

“Oh… I mean… Aren’t you?” you looked between both of them with a sheepish smile.

For a moment there was a pause, and both the boys shared a look.

You watched as a slow smile spread on both their faces.

“Well, yeah, we’ll fuck you—”

“—like you want us to, clearly—”

“—but you’re only going to have—”

“—one of us for tonight.”

Kieran’s hand moved to grasp at the supple flesh of your ass, kneading it in a gentle, soothing motion. “ Since you’re sleepy, and we haven’t prepped you enough,” he added, for good measure. “We can be nice, too, you know?”

Another smile made its way to your face then, and you snuggled back into your pillow, gladly wrapping your arms around Luke as if to snuggle close to him.

“You know I always let you do whatever.”

You felt Kieran twitch behind you in response, and Luke rested a palm over your head to ruffle your hair. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed.

Kieran scoffed. “But I won, you know. She did scold us.”

“Aww, but you’ve already been grinding against her anyway! Let me have this!”

“We could switch…”

“ Nuh- uh. This wasn’t part of the bet! And we didn’t say the orders had to start now, right?”

The younger twin huffed. And while you had made yourself comfortable in their embrace, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “It’s okay,” you murmured. “I’ll just have you in the morning then, Kie. Won’t it be better that way?”

Your words were met with a sigh and a kiss on the corner of your lips, causing you to smile.

“Hard to say no to a pretty girl.”

His words had you shivering involuntarily—the praise, the sound of his voice so close to your ear... You couldn’t help but whine as you felt him buck into you once more, and the low chuckle that he let out nearly had you burying your face further into the pillow.

“What?” you could hear the grin in Kieran’s voice. “All riled up already?”

You didn’t quite answer, only letting out a squeak as you felt the other twin shift beside you until something brushed directly against your clit.

“Stop distracting her, Kieran!” Luke let out a huff, and then there was a little kiss against your lips before Kieran pulled away from you.

It was at that moment you opened your eyes again, turning your head slightly with a pout.

“Wait, huh…? Where’re you going?”

Kieran smiled. “Do you trust me?”

“Well, yes…”

“Good. Then don’t worry about it. Just focus on Luke.”

As if on cue, the twin in question slowly guided you back to face him. And there was that sweet, loving, adoring smile on his face that made you melt. You would never get over how sharp the contrast always was between how he normally was and how he would treat you, always a comfort to be all wrapped up in his arms like this.

A finger to your lips, and he slowly raised your leg higher to wrap around his waist, languid movements to slide his dick between your folds. Every so often he would graze over your sensitive nub, the contact had you jolting, feeling the friction between you two in an instant that it was enough to have you biting your lip.

“Shhh,” he gave you a little wink. His finger trailed your jawline and over the marks that Kieran had left on you, before ultimately wrapping his arms back around your torso. The position had you shifting to rest your head against his chest, the scent of his cologne more obvious to you now. “C’mere, sunshine, I’ll take care of you. Go back to sleep, ‘kay?”

I’ll take care of you.

The words made you smile.

And it was easy enough for him to distract you from the noise of your drawer being opened, your cheeks flushing pink as he pulled you into another one of those sweet, sweet kisses of his. Every time, you could swear you tasted candy on his tongue—automatically you felt your eyes fall shut, taking in the delicate movements of his lips as he finally slid inside of you.

Slowly, slowly.

They always took their time with you. They always took care of you.

He eased himself into your cunt, inch by inch. It was the first full thrust that had you gasping into his mouth; the stretch of his cock was still something that caught you off-guard. But he would soothe you. Little whispers, little kisses, little caresses… in truth, he was just as lost in it as you were. Every so often he would pull away from his kisses to grunt into your ear, his voice breathy and trembling.

Yet the rock of his hips stayed gentle.

Rhythmic.

Almost as if waves on a shore.

It didn’t take long for you to match him, eyes still closed, panting into his chest as you moved to grip his collar. Your bodies moved languidly together, and he pushed himself deep enough for you to let out a quiet groan.

Luke wasn’t often good with consistency, but even you could tell that he was keeping up the effort this time—quite obviously working to lull you into this suspended state of near-sleep, half awake, yet certainly still conscious enough to register those little jolts of pleasure.

“Like that? Is that good? C’mon, baby, it’s okay, just keep your eyes closed…”

Words of reassurance, that sweetness in his voice…

Muffled moans would escape your lips every now and then, but at this point, you had barely the consciousness to register the weight of the mattress shift behind you. Your walls fluttered around his cock, gripping him tightly as a cool liquid dripped down the curve of your ass. It caused him to twitch—and behind you came that familiar, familiar low chuckle, a hand placed back to massage at your supple flesh.

“Ugh— haah —c’mon… Barely even—nnh—five minutes—!” Luke raised his head to give Kieran an indignant huff, but his hips continued to fuck up into you.

And Kieran only shrugged.

“I said I’d have my fun, too.”

You felt trapped, in a sense, as he, too, caged you into his arms, but the warmth was comforting. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Shit—”

It was at the same time that Kieran’s finger edged closer to your hole, causing you to involuntarily clench around the cock inside of you yet again. A soft “mm…” fell from your lips, the same finger circling around and prodding the ring of muscle, gathering the lube that he had just poured out onto you.

“Shhhh, shh. It’s just me, pretty girl.”

The shushing again, this time from a lower voice.

Kieran attached his lips to the shell of your ear, giving a tentative kitten lick.

“Oh, fuck— fuck, she’s so tight—” Luke’s moans grew louder, and by this point, the well-kept rhythm of his thrusts had faltered. His hips stuttered, trying to control his breathing through his nose.

When your eyes opened again, the image of his flushed expression and the desperate tears that pricked at his eyes nearly made you gasp.

“Luke…” you whispered, eyes still drooping sleepily, yet the sensations they were both giving you made it harder to truly just… sleep.

“Ugh— nngh— baby, just… Shit,  y-you’re so good, such a p-pretty little pussy…” 

He was panting, thrusting up into you, his hand moving to grip your thigh to allow him to do it harder.

Only, his movements seemed to spread your cheeks open just a little more, and you could practically feel Kieran’s smile against your ear.

“Oh, you wanna be awake for this, baby?” he murmured. He continued to massage at your little hole, still nice enough to ease you into it despite how many times you had done this with them anyway. 

“Mm… mhm…” you nod breathlessly, only able to find solace in the way you tightened your hold over Luke’s arms.

You were already sensitive.

Luke’s gentle thrusts were bearable; they felt nice and cozy and warm, enough to build the pleasure back up and have you panting into him. But the faster and harder he went, the more awake you felt. Too distracted by the pleasure to speak, too distracted by the anticipation of being filled, somehow, in both holes like you knew you always ended up with the both of them.

“Please…” a quiet, needy moan fell from your lips, head trying to tilt back up to look at the twin behind you. “Please, please, please, Kie…”

The nickname again.

You heard him hiss into your ear, and though you’d been distracted by the way Luke’s motions would cause your bed to rock, you were made equally as aware of the way Kieran had been rutting into his hand, trying to ease the aching of his cock.

You couldn’t see it, but the image in your head nearly made your throat close up.

Your walls fluttered, and he took the chance—done with teasing you, his finger pushed slowly inside, a louder, drawn-out moan ripping from your throat as your head threw back against him in pleasure.

“There we go. That’s a gooodd fucking girl…”

The stretch and that low grunt in your ear had you mewling, clawing at Luke’s back as if to ground yourself in the moment despite your vision already beginning to swim with stars.

“Another one, baby, okay?”

“W-wai—wait—!”

There was no more waiting.

You squealed as his index finger pushed right in next to his middle, your tight ring of muscle nearly sucking him in.

“See? You’re already used to it,” he chuckled.

It was as if the both of them were simply done with being gentle with you, immediately assuming a pace that had them pushing and pulling your hips as they pleased. 

In and out, in and out.

Every thrust—Luke, and then Kieran, and then Luke—a pattern that had you crying out their names in an almost nonsensical babble, this time having tears prick at your eyes enough for Luke to let out another curse.

“Holy f- ffuuckinggg shit — so pretty… So pretty like th-tha— haah —” His eyes rolled back into his head, hips never stopping. “Ngh, baby, baby, relax, you’re—sq- squeezing so hard, shit—”

“Yeah, is she? Fuck— take a deep breath, c’mon, pretty girl, c’mon…”

They would build it up so easily, you were going insane.

“Wai-w-wait—! I’m gonna— gonna cum plea—please! Ple—”

Cries tore from your lips the moment Luke brought his hand down to play with your clit, eyes squeezing shut—

You crashed.

It came with such an intensity you hadn’t felt for so long, every inch of your body shaking and jolting, practically screaming with pleasure.

And neither of their movements come at all to a halt.

Sometimes, you couldn’t tell if they were doing it to spite you. The dazed grin on Luke’s face and the way Kieran sunk his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder caused you to let out a choked sob.

And then it was messy.

They didn’t so much as give you even a second of warning before painting a stupidly sticky white mess all over your body, all over the sheets . Having pulled out of you, Luke slid himself over your stomach, ropes of cum catching on your bunched-up nightgown—a thick mess slid down your thighs from Kieran’s release, the tip of his cock nudging you ever so slightly and causing his hips to jolt up every so often.

Your chest heaved, vision hazy.

“Idiots…” you whined, weakly. “Look at the mess you made…”

For a while, there was no reply.

You half had to wonder if they had fallen asleep, but you knew them well enough—

When you shifted to look at them, you let out a huff at the way their eyes seemed to latch onto you and you alone, raking over your body with a sense of pride.

“You guuyyysss…” 

Another whine.

And then it was Luke who spoke first.

That stupid grin on his face wouldn’t leave, and he had the audacity to send you another one of those winks to you.

“Luke!”

“You’re a fucking masterpiece, you know?”

You should have expected how giddy his voice sounded.

“Like, shit. You’re such a pretty pretty little thing… God, if I could, I’d be fucking you all day—”

“Luke!!!!”

You nearly sat up to give him a smack to the face, but Kieran cut you off with another quick kiss.

It started with one, on your lips, and then tiny, feather-light kisses all over the rest of your face.

Two pecks over your eyelids caused them to close once more, and you let out a little huff.

“Kieran…”

“Luke’s right. You’re pretty like this.”

“Hey! But seriously—”

“It’s okay. We’ll clean you up, I promise. Stay here and I’ll heat up a bath for us?”

You pouted. “...Okay… Then cuddles, yeah? And you owe me a movie night…”

You couldn’t see, but you could certainly more than feel that they were smiling.

With both twins each leaving another little kiss on either side of your cheek, you heard them speak—

“O’course, pretty girl.”

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[nymphoniah]

Ooh if you're taking requests, Can I request a Logan Howlett x reader smut?, Reader pranks Logan by telling him that she's on her period and that it will last 2 weeks, to which he actually believes her. However Logan eventually catches on to her lie and he goes absolutely feral by ripping her clothes off and punishing her while saying "You kept my pussy away from me, how dare you"

white lie | logan howlett

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

AN: ohmygodddd!! someone needs to restrain meee. i can see pussy starved!logan being super selfish when it comes to your cunt. practically abuses it—he does it just to spite you, for making him wait to taste you. chat i NEEED him.

content/tags: NSFW (18+), minors DNI. old man!logan, period comfort, porn with plot, p in v sex, spit as lube, pet names (sweetheart, doll, etc.) a little bit of mean!logan, missionary, doggy style, fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie

it's been a while since you started taking birth control, almost about a year or so. despite the name of the medication, you initially took the pill to fix your hormonal imbalances. at first, your periods were irregular, and extremely painful, and of course, logan would do anything to help alleviate the pain.

he wasn't really one for domesticity, but that’s something that you changed that about him.

how could he ever refuse to take care of a sweet little thing like you?

logan would pamper you, refuse for you to get out from bed whenever the week of your period came. you wanted a cup of water? don't move, he'll be right back with a glass. you didn't want it with ice? logan profusely apologies, and returns back to your side with lukewarm temperature water.

sure, these things seem menial, but seeing logan's brooding figure rush around the apartment, struggling to find your heating pad that you use for cramps; his brain scrambling over how it was safe to throw something like that in the microwave. it brought a smile to your face, and seeing you happy was the only thing he wanted.

and of course, you didn't mind the additional benefits that came with taking your medication.

the two of you fucked like rabbits. logan absolutely took advantage of the fact that you were on birth control; and though he didn’t admit it, it was clear he had some sort of breeding kink.

and it became apparent when you played a “prank” on him—a lighthearted joke that you made that he took the wrong way

“such a shitty day,” you groan, rubbing your eyes haphazardly. you unbutton your unbearably tight top, slouching into the worn down couch of your tiny apartment.

“what’s wrong, bub?” logan chirps, joining alongside you, his hands working at your thighs. “let me help you, doll.”

you sigh and lean your head further back into the cushions, feeling dizzy even at the slightest movement. “feels like i’m gonna start my period soon…”

his head tilts to the side, his hand now gripping at your legs instead of massaging them. “thought you’re still on it though,” he trails off, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“shit, i forgot to tell you when my period was over,” you answer with genuine concern. “my periods are still irregular, thought you’d already know.”

‘fuck’ logan thought to himself, his hands moving upwards to play with the hem of your pencil skirt. you’re still in your office attire—tights, kitten heels, a lacy tank top hidden underneath your button up, the whole ordeal.

“should’ve told me sooner, sweetheart,” logan growls into your ear, hands roaming your body

and before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter, stripped down to nothing but your skirt, ass up and on display for his viewing pleasure.

with the pop of his claws, he ruins your cute little skirt, ripping it off of your ass with ease, the ripped fabric discarded to the side.

he makes sure to not mess up your panties though, his rough hands pulling the soaked fabric down your legs. he pockets them, shoving them into one of the pockets of his leather jacket.

“naughty girl,” logan chuckles to himself, watching at how your hole twitched around nothing, cunt absolutely soaked with your own arousal. “don’t even ‘hafta get you ready…”

he slips his cock out from his jeans, the flushed head of his tip already leaking; he's been waiting for this, a week too long.

he pumps himself a couple times, smearing the precum over his tip with his thumb. before lining himself up against you, he makes sure to tease you—after all, you did make him wait.

logan harshly slaps his dick against your cunt, making you whimper out his name. "bet you're fuckin' mad at yourself, huh doll?" his voice low, "being so forgetful..."

the shame was too much, all you can do is whine in response. "starved not only me, but yourself of your old man's dick," he lets out a tsk, and without warning, sheathes himself in you.

"shit! logan, im sorry" you cry, feeling yourself clench around him, missing the way he stretched out your cunt.

“gonna stuff you with my cum, darlin’. and you’re taking fuckin’ all. of. it.” he grunted out, emphasizing the last of his words with the deep thrust of his hips.

you could only respond with a feverish whine, “need you so bad, logan”, your fingernails clawing at his back to ground yourself as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“how fuckin’ dare you whine for my cock-,” he hisses out, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear, “you kept this tight little pussy away from me,” he spat out, his voice sounding bitter.

“can’t believe you made me wait for this, darlin’” he spat out with disdain, his thrusts getting sloppier. “you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

your bottom lip is swollen from your constant nibbling—which was considered a bad habit to logan, the tic stifling your moans which he gravely desired to hear.

his hand clenches at your jaw, parting your lips, your cheeks squished together. a small whimper escapes your lips at the action. he inches his face closer to you and his hazel eyes bore into yours.

“gonna stuff you so much, you’re not gonna ‘hafta worry about your period anymore, sweetheart,” he snarls out, his grip getting tighter.

your mind goes fuzzy, and the only thing you could think about is him finishing inside you, painting your velvety walls white.

you were whining at the top of your lungs, babbling incoherently. mouth agape, logan’s hand wrapped tightly around your neck, you can barely manage to let out any words. ‘s-sorry, i know i’ve been bad,’ m’sorry daddy… shouldn’t have lied…’

logan smirks at your moans, recognizing how much of a mess you are. content with your pleading, he releases the grip on your neck, his fingertips now tracing down your torso, making their way down to your hips.

“gonna breed this tight pussy,” he grunts, his rough hands gripping at your love handles, using them as leverage to pound into you deeper.

“she’s gonna keep all my cum in there, right doll?” he asks tantalizingly, his eyes locked onto your cunt, admiring the way your hole twitches perfectly around his dick, gripping him like a vice.

you can only moan in response, breath hitching with every deep thrust of his cock. it’s too much for you to handle, the pain you’re experiencing slowly turning into pleasure.

logan reluctantly slips out of you; manhandling you, he hastily flips you around. he spits directly onto your clit, and it’s a sinful sight—a thin strand saliva connecting from his bottom lip to your clit, and your pupils dilate at the view.

his fingers adeptly working at the swollen bundle of nerves, continuing his rhythmic thrusts—it’s all too much for you.

“feels s’good,” you cry out, your body a twitching mess beneath him. your fingernails dig at his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks against his skin, and soon after, you’re chasing your own release.

your hips move against your own will, attempting to match his pace—but it’s no use. he brutally pistons his hips into yours, intoxicated by your cunt, greedily sucking him in, and how unwilling she was to let his cock go.

“be a good girl n’ take it, baby,” he hisses between gritted teeth, pumping himself a couple more times before he finishes. he lets out a primal growl as thick ropes of cum fill your insides, your gummy walls milking him dry.

he keeps himself sheathed inside of you, ensuring that you were stuffed full of his cum. “need to make sure she takes…” logan murmurs, his thumb lazily rubbing at your clit.

even as his cock resides deep in your cunt. the mixture of your arousal and his manages to slip out. “such a pretty little cunt,” he says in awe, “fuckin’ perfect.”

the schlick of him pulling his cock out filled the room, making you whine in need, already missing how well logan filled you.

before you knew it, he swept you up off your feet, moving you from the kitchen back to the living room couch, placing you down gently knowing how sore you must’ve been—from your period cramps and the onslaught he had on your cunt.

you’re still naked, body out on display for his viewing pleasure. logan hungrily watches as your cunt continues to ooze out with his cum, a smirk forming across his face showing that he’s content with the “work” he’s done.

“took my dick like a champ, kid,” he chuckles out, pressing a kiss to the temple of your head.

“next time, tell me when your period’s over, doll.” he adds, punctuating his words with a playful slap to your ass.

[thedensworld]

Taste Me | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, fluff

Summary: Can't friends taste each other? Seungcheol didn't know the answer. But he was certain that it'll be fair only if he could also taste you.

(I) heard you back together and if that's true, you'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you - Taste by Sabrina Carpenter.

Seungcheol couldn’t quite grasp what he was feeling right now. No matter how hard he tried, sleep wouldn’t come. The image of you crying earlier today haunted him, replaying in his mind. Your voice trembled as you confessed, breaking down in front of him.

"I feel like trash. I feel unworthy and stupid!"

It hit him like a punch to the gut. This was his fault. He was the one who introduced you to Jeonghan, one of his closest friends. Jeonghan was a good guy, and Seungcheol hadn’t thought twice about it. He believed you'd be in good hands. But what he failed to consider was that Jeonghan had just broken up with his ex only two months prior. Seungcheol had been oblivious to the signs—how Jeonghan had used you as a temporary escape, a second choice until his ex decided to take him back.

Your voice echoed in his mind again.

"I saw them kissing in his car when I was trying to fix everything... Why is this happening to me?"

The weight of your pain sat heavily on Seungcheol’s chest. You and Jeonghan had been dating for three months, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect. He genuinely believed you were happy. But then, out of nowhere, Jeonghan had told him one night that you both decided to go your separate ways. Seungcheol hadn’t pried for details. He didn’t ask why. Instead, he had foolishly apologized to Jeonghan, thinking it was you who had caused the breakup.

Now, as he lay awake in the silence of his room, guilt gnawed at him. How had he missed it? How had he misjudged his own friend? Seungcheol realized too late that he should have been there for you, and not assumed that Jeonghan had been blameless. The thought of you hurting because of his oversight made his stomach twist.

He closed his eyes, but all he could see was your tear-streaked face, your broken voice, and the weight of your words. He owed you more than just an apology. He owed you understanding.

Seungcheol stood waiting in front of your office building, checking the time on his phone. Your shift ended at 5, and he figured a nice dinner might help lift your spirits. When you finally emerged from the entrance, your eyes landed on him, and he could see the surprise on your face.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" you asked, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

"Wanna go to our spot?" Seungcheol asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was referring to the little Chinese restaurant you two had frequented since your college days.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

Seungcheol, a freelance photographer, had known you since university when you worked together on a project during your final year. You, a fashion journalist now, hadn’t expected the friendship to last this long, but here you were—still close, still dependable.

Dinner was quiet but comfortable. The usual chatter was replaced by something heavier, unspoken but felt in the air between you two. As you both left the restaurant, Seungcheol walked beside you in silence before finally mumbling, "I’m sorry."

You stopped, turning your head towards him, eyebrows raised in confusion, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

Clearing his throat, Seungcheol added, "You've been through a lot because of me. I feel terrible about it. I should’ve seen what was happening with Jeonghan sooner. I’m really sorry."

You nodded slowly, the understanding clear in your eyes. "It’s about the other night, isn’t it?" you asked, referring to the night you called him, drunk and heartbroken, from a bar. He had picked you up, and in your haze, you had told him everything about Jeonghan—the cheating, the lies, the hurt.

"I should be the one apologizing," you said quietly. "I shouldn’t have called you like that."

Seungcheol shook his head immediately, waving his hands dismissively. "No, call me anytime. That’s what friends are for, right?"

After that night, life resumed its usual pace. You and Seungcheol continued as normal friends—occasional texts here and there, but your meetings became less frequent. That was until one day when Seungcheol showed up at your new apartment to help with the furniture. You had just moved into a bigger place, and he was putting the finishing touches on a cupboard while you sorted through boxes of clothes.

As you carried over a box, Seungcheol noticed something familiar—the colors and fabrics, the oversized sweaters, and a couple of t-shirts that clearly weren’t yours.

"Those are Jeonghan’s, aren’t they?" he asked, unable to hide the hint of irritation in his voice.

You glanced at the clothes and smiled, a touch of irony in your expression. "Yeah, they are. I found out men's clothes are way more comfortable when I was dating him."

Seungcheol felt a strange tightening in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but the fact that you still had Jeonghan’s clothes didn’t sit right with him. It boiled something inside him that he didn’t know was there.

"Why haven’t you thrown them out?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

You shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "Honestly? I kinda want his new girlfriend to wonder where half his wardrobe disappeared to."

For a moment, Seungcheol was taken aback by your response, but then he couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his own face. He liked how you were handling things—turning the pain into something lighter, almost humorous. It was clever and strong in its own way.

Maybe, Seungcheol thought, he could learn a thing or two from you about how to deal with heartbreak. He didn’t quite understand the shift in his feelings, but one thing was becoming clear—he was starting to like the way you handled the world, and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to see you in a different light.

"Throw them, i get you mine." Seungcheol told you and you squealed, excited to get his expensive wardrobe.

*

You still couldn’t fully process what had happened back at the restaurant during your university magazine club reunion. Seungcheol and you had gone together, and to your surprise, Jeonghan was there too, accompanying his girlfriend Jinah, who was also a member of the club back in the same year as you.

Everything had been going well—casual conversations, light laughter—until Jinah dropped an unexpected bombshell, her voice laced with bitterness.

"So, Y/N dated my boyfriend back then."

The entire table fell silent. You felt every pair of eyes turn toward you. Jeonghan's expression shifted immediately, his lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze darted between you and Jinah. You chose not to respond, not wanting to escalate things. But Seungcheol, ever the protective friend, didn’t hesitate to jump in. He stood up, his voice cutting through the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the group.

"Or maybe," Seungcheol said, his eyes locked on Jinah, "it was you who was dating her boyfriend?"

A collective gasp went through the room as whispers filled the air. You could feel the tension thickening as everyone processed the implication. Jeonghan's face darkened, his brow furrowing.

"Did you just insinuate that I cheated on her?" Jeonghan’s voice was low, controlled, but there was a threat behind it.

Seungcheol smirked, his anger barely concealed. "You didn’t?"

And before anyone could react, fists flew. Tables clattered, chairs scraped against the floor, and suddenly the reunion turned into chaos. You found yourself driving Seungcheol’s car back to your apartment, his knuckles bloodied, and his anger still simmering in the passenger seat.

"I can’t believe I was friends with that bastard," Seungcheol spat, staring out of the window as his chest rose and fell with fury. "You dated him, Y/N? I could’ve been the better man!"

You glanced at him, trying to calm him down. "Yes, Seungcheol. Let’s get inside and treat your wounds before we talk about this."

You parked the car and led him into your apartment. His hand was bleeding from punching the table, and you could tell he had tried to restrain himself from hitting Jeonghan. But the moment Jeonghan touched him first, Seungcheol had lost all control.

"Does it hurt?" you asked softly, reaching up to touch his bruised cheek.

He shook his head, still scowling. "I should’ve hit him a hundred times."

You chuckled, pressing an ice cloth to his cheek. "Take it easy, you gave him enough of a lesson, baby boy."

Seungcheol relaxed slightly as you tended to him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently rubbed the crease in his furrowed brow. "Thanks," you whispered, appreciating how fiercely he had defended you. He let out a long sigh, the anger slowly ebbing away.

"Why didn’t you say anything to her?" Seungcheol asked, his voice quieter now, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "You just let her talk. You didn’t defend yourself."

You tilted your head, your eyes meeting his. "No words needed," you replied, your tone calm. "She tastes me every time she kisses him."

Seungcheol took a sharp breath, your words sinking deep. He suddenly realized just how close his face was to yours. His breath hitched, and so did yours. You both froze, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you. His eyes lingered on your face, and you could feel your heartbeat quicken.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked, blinking and blushing at the intensity of his stare.

Seungcheol shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No… I just… I feel like I want to kiss you right now."

Your breath caught in your throat. The ice cloth in your hand slipped and fell, but Seungcheol was quick to catch it—and your hand. He placed the cloth back in your grip, but his eyes never left yours. Slowly, his hands moved to your cheeks, his touch gentle, his thumbs grazing your skin softly.

"It’s unfair," Seungcheol murmured, his voice low and husky. "If they can taste you… but I can’t."

Your heart raced as the tension between you became almost unbearable. You shifted slightly, uncertain but not resisting. "Aren’t we just friends?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol’s lashes fluttered as he gazed at you, his breath warm against your skin. "Can’t friends taste each other?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours softly, testing, waiting. The kiss was gentle at first, a mere whisper of a touch, but when you responded, moving your lips against his, Seungcheol immediately deepened the kiss, pulling you closer.

In that moment, you realized you wanted this, too. You wanted him.

Seungcheol stood up from the couch, his hands sliding around your waist as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. The tension between you two thickened, electric in the air, as Seungcheol gently flipped you onto the couch, his body hovering above yours, trapping you beneath him in a way that made your heart race.

"You make me crazy," Seungcheol whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft kisses along the curve of your neck. His hands roamed the contours of your body, setting fire to every inch they touched. A soft moan escaped your lips, spurring him on.

He paused just long enough to pull off his T-shirt and toss it aside before finding his way back to you. His lips crashed against yours, hungry and desperate, as if kissing you was the only thing that mattered.

In between heated kisses, he mumbled, "I can't believe we're making out."

You broke the kiss just enough to look into his eyes, your breath coming in short gasps. His gaze was intense, almost burning into yours.

"I've been wanting this." You confessed, your voice soft but fillfilled with the weight of your desire.

Seungcheol eyes darkened, flickering with something raw and deep. His grips on your waist tightened slightly, his lips parted as he gazed at you, completely captivated by you. In that moment, unspoken tension that had simmered between you both for so long was finally released, and there was no turning back.

Seungcheol's eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity between you growing as he leaned in again, his lips brushing softly against your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through you, and you arched slightly under his touch.

His hands moved lower, grazing your sides, his fingertips tracing over your skin as if memorizing every inch. There was a desperation in the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for far too long. You could feel his heartbeat quickening, matching your own.

The weight of him against you, the heat of his skin—it was all overwhelming, intoxicating in the best way. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was pulling you deeper into something you’d both been avoiding for so long. But now, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts—just the raw, undeniable connection between you two that had finally come to the surface.

Seungcheol’s lips moved back to yours, the kiss deepening, more passionate, as his hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, letting yourself fully give in to the moment.

He pulled away briefly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His voice was soft but serious. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the tenderness in his tone. You nodded, your hand reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. "I’ve never been more sure."

That was all the reassurance he needed. Seungcheol’s lips crashed onto yours again, more fiercely this time, his hands pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. The air between you sizzled, filled with the heat of long-buried feelings finally set free.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just you and him, and the realization that this was exactly where you were both meant to be.

*

"Hey, love," Seungcheol greeted you warmly as you slid into the passenger seat of his car. Without hesitation, he leaned in to press a kiss against your lips, a sweet and familiar gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter.

You had just finished work, and Seungcheol had promised to drive you home so you could make dinner together. After the kiss, you pulled back slightly to put on your seatbelt, but you noticed Seungcheol still staring at you, his eyes lingering on your face with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked, raising a brow in question. Instead of answering, he smirked, licking his lips.

Realizing some of your lip gloss had transferred to his mouth, you quickly reached over to wipe it off, laughing softly as you did.

"You taste different today," Seungcheol remarked, his voice playful yet low. "Where's my strawberry lips?" he teased, glancing at you as he started the car and pulled out onto the road.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I switched it up—went for cherry this time."

Seungcheol grinned at your response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Cherry, huh? Well, I hope I’m the only one getting to taste this new flavor."

You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned back in your seat. "You are. And you're the only one who’s ever going to."

His grin widened, looking like the lovesick fool he was. "Then kiss me a lot today, so I get used to it," he added, eyes briefly flickering your way before returning to the road.

There was a new rhythm between you, something that felt right, natural—like it had been waiting to happen all along. You both knew that the line between friendship and love had been crossed in the most beautiful way possible. There was no going back, and neither of you wanted to.

This was where you belonged—together.

[rae-writes]

Changes

multifandom || 0.6k || situationship to relationship

After you called off the arrangement, he. . .

Doesn’t last more than a few days without you — he wasn’t cut out for this ‘casual, no feelings’ kinda thing anyway; doesn’t know what to do with himself now that you aren’t around and is an absolute mess because he is hopelessly in love with you and has been for awhile. Knows he should’ve confessed sooner and spends an ungodly amount of time trying to figure out how to confess before ultimately just showing up at your door out of the blue and word vomiting everything that comes to mind. It’s frantic and jumbled, but he ends it with a firm- yet panicked- ‘I love you!’. After either laughing or tearing up a little, you [adoringly] shut him up with a kiss and let him really ask you out when he’s calmed down. 

↳ IZUKU MIDORIYA, Kirishima Eijiro, BACHIRA MEGURU, Yoichi Isagi, REO MIKAGE, SAKURA HARUKA, Umemiya Hajime, NIREI AKIHIKO, ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, Edgar A. Poe, Chuuya Nakahara (hear me out), GENYA SHINAGUZAWA, Tanjiro Kamado, RENGOKU KYOJURO, NARUTO UZUMAKI, Itachi Uchiha

Doesn’t last more than a few weeks without you — he really tried to ignore the aching feelings that washed over him like a wave every time he remembered that he didn’t have you anymore: but he was stubborn. Stupidly stubborn and stupidly in love. As the weeks start to pile up, he can’t take it— he��s tried to move on, but he couldn’t even stand getting close to anyone, much less get past mindless flirting. It made him sick because it wasn’t you. Shows up at your door early in the morning one day, in the pouring rain, and gets on his knees, begging for you to forgive him and take him back and so many other rushed confessions that his voice ends up cracking by the time he says ‘I-I love you!’. He’s only placated when you cup his cheek, noting that he wasn’t usually like this and that you could talk it out, but he doesn’t miss the grin on your face.

↳ KATSUKI BAKUGO, Tomura Shigaraki, KEIGO TAKAMI, NAGI SEISHIRO, Shidou Ryusei, RIN ITOSHI, Endo Yamato, JO TOGAME,  DAZAI OSAMU, Tachihara Michizou, Ranpo Edogawa, SHIKAMARU NARA, KAKASHI HATAKE

Doesn’t last a year without you — He was blunt with his intentions from the start: physical, no feelings. It’s how he did things and he had a reputation to prove it. He didn’t bank on actually falling for you, though, so when you left, he took it in stride. His habits continued…but for some reason, it made him angry any time he heard your name. He wasn’t used to the pit in his chest, so naturally, he vented it out on other trysts. Months had passed and his friends kept pointing out how he didn’t really seem happy anymore— and then they dropped a bombshell. You were seen on a date with some other guy. He seethes for weeks, punching holes in his walls, driving way too fast down the freeways, and he still didn’t know why! But then he finds an old video in his snap memories of you laughing and lying over him half naked, pressing kisses all over his face. And that’s how he found himself meeting you outside your door after you’d gotten dropped off from your nth date and at first he didn’t know what to say, but then the apology came and the stinging of his eyes and a choked, gruff confession that he fucking loves you goddamnit, and he knows he was a dumb dick, but he’s ready to beg to start over with you. Do it right from the start. The hug you both share is ‘end of the world’ desperate, but it gives him hope. He’ll be a good man. For you. 

↳ SAE ITOSHI, Post!WildCard Kunigami Rensuke, TAKIISHI CHIKA, Dark Era/Beast!Dazai Osamu, SANEMI SHINAGUZAWA, SASUKE UCHIHA (or any of our other emotionally stunted boys, my mind was blanking <3)

[whimsyfinny]

Fix Your Attitude

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) is just like an other woman trying to function in this fucked up world - and she's starts her day with coffee. At least that was always the plan until Dean interfered.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, slightly Dom! Dean, and if you squint there's maybe possessive/jealous Dean

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 4470

A/N: So this is technically my first ever one shot! Woop! I've written this as part of my competition from a few weeks back, and this is for the wonderful winner @spookyysinsanity ! Hope you enjoyyy.

“Seriously, Dean? What the actual fuck!?” The audacity of the older Winchester brother had me throwing my hands up in frustration, my irritable tone bouncing off the walls in the kitchen and landing on ears that couldn’t possibly care any less.

“Should’ve got here sooner, sweetheart. You know how it is; first come first serve,” he tauntingly raised his coffee mug to my dishevelled figure standing over the empty coffee pot. The lack of caffeinated bean-water had brought a panic-sweat to my temples, knowing all too well how things would pan out if I didn’t get what I needed.

“How many cups have you had?”

“What?” He blinked frustratingly slowly - he knew what I’d asked.

“Jerk - I said ‘how many cups have you had’?”

“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger against the side of the mug, lips pursing over feigned thoughts.

“DEAN.”

“Maybe… three?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly - although the nonchalant bubble popped when a sly smirk slipped through the cracks. My mouth opened and closed a few times, words forming and disappearing too rapidly through my mind to even make it past my lips as desperation sizzled into rage.

“You DICK!”

“Hey don’t yell at me - just make another pot,” he held his hands up defensively.

My eyes flitted over to the empty tin on the side - an empty tin left tauntingly in plain sight.

“You know damn well I can’t do that! We’re out of coffee, totally out. Zilch. Nothing. Empty.”

“Well,” he lifted his mug to his lips, “not totally empty.”

“What do you- oh…OH,” I felt my razor sharp glare zero in on the mug at his lips - there had to be at least half a cup in there with how little he had to tilt it up before taking a gulp. I took a step forward and jabbed my finger towards the prize.

“Give me that.”

He offered me nothing but raised eyebrows and a loud slurp.

“Dean.”

Again, silence only echoed back, however my frustration towards him started to buzz in my head as he slowly lowered the mug to unveil a slap-worthy grin.

“DEAN.”

He gently placed the mug on the table and turned to me, large arms crossing over his broad chest as he settled in his chair, thighs spreading wide for comfort.

“Wow, I thought I was grouchy in the mornings before coffee but damn, sweetheart you’re really claiming first place with that one.”

I took a step closer, my eyes practically burning a hole in the cup next to him on the table. His grin widened as he noticed me stalking forwards, like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. However my prey was incredibly suspecting and, in all honesty, not really prey at all. My bare feet padded quietly towards him, each tentative step raising more suspicion in Dean as my desperation for caffeine became all-consuming and my honed hunting skills became sloppy. I gave myself away when I tore my gaze from the mug and glanced over at Dean, catching his amused smirk and playful eyes before I lunged forward, hands grasping at air where the liquid-treasure should have been. Spinning on my heel after almost colliding with the table I turned to face Dean, now standing a few steps behind me with one hand wrapped around the ceramic and the other dipping lazily into the pocket of his jeans.

“Come on darlin’ you’re better than that.”

“Fuck you.”

A low whistle floated in the air between us before he tutted at me, shaking his head slowly.

“So mean.”

“Says you!”

“Hey I got here first - I'm the victim here. You're the one trying to rob me.”

“Don't play that game - you are not the victim here. All of your bullshit has been calculated,” I narrowed my eyes up at him as he traced his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Maybe it has been. Not much you can do about it now though is there?” His eyes glinted like the tricksters before he took another gulp of his coffee. I could feel my palms growing sweaty in apprehension, knowing all too well that the coffee level was dropping inside that cup.

Time to try a different approach. Something more… tactical.

“You know…” I pulled a lock of hair between my fingers, twirling it around, “you're my favourite Winchester.”

I paused and he raised his eyebrows, suspecting yet silently urging for more.

“Sam is just so nice and tall but…” I quietly stepped towards him, inwardly cheering when he made no attempt to move away.

“But?”

“But I mean look at you, so ruggedly handsome… and with that authentic ‘tough guy’ personality to make all the ladies swoon. And don't even get me started on these broad shoulders and big arms of yours…” I padded around him, tracing a single finger delicately up one arm, over the back of his shoulders and down the other arm. I almost missed the small shiver that ghosted over his skin and raised the hairs on his exposed forearms.

“Oh, so you like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice subtly dropping to a deeper tone.

I chewed my bottom lip slightly before stopping in front of him, a hair's breadth away. From here I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne - the same one I'd only ever known him to wear - and the subtle, intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder. Combined, those three items were the very essence of Dean, the warmth of it all clinging to his clothes and practically seeping from his pores. I couldn't stop myself from taking a deep breath and letting the hypnotic scent travel straight to my brain. He’d always smelt divine, but I was never going to give him the satisfactory access to that information.

Upon tilting my head up to lock eyes with him, I could feel his coffee-scented breath fan over my face, the smell of what I wanted most almost making my mouth water. I couldn't let myself become enveloped in the addictive haze around him - I needed to remember what I was here for without letting myself become distracted.

Evergreen eyes flitted between mine, unsure of my next move. But the more I looked into them, the more dilated his pupils became. I couldn't help but grin a little to myself, relishing in his reaction.

“Come on Dean, just hand over the coffee. I know deep down that you really want to…”

He hummed, the sound a little gravelly as it emanated from his chest.

“You see sweetheart,” he smirked a little as he gripped the mug, lifting it to his lips. The action immediately caused me to take an urgent step forwards, a part of me truly believing that he would drain the cup right there and then. He must've seen the panic jolt through me as he released a small, breathy laugh.

“I see what?”

“You see… I don't think it's coffee that you need to stop being such a bitch in the morning.”

My eyes immediately narrowed towards him at his choice of words. He can make it so easy to look past his good looks when he acts like such an ass.

“What the actual fuck does that mean?”

“Oh I think you know what it means.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

“If you want.”

“Go to- wait what?” I felt my heart leap in my chest, my mind unsure if I wanted to have heard him correctly.

His smirk spread across his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his mossy green gaze dragging over my figure as though I were totally naked.

“You heard me,” he took a step forward, his boots heavy on the hard kitchen floor. My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from whatever scandalous thoughts of him I'd pushed to the back of my mind that I never intended to humour, or the rage bubbling to the surface at the sheer audacity from him, thinking I'd just accept this sort of shitty attitude.

“You’re crazy if you think that I’d let you in my pants,” the bewilderment in my voice was evident, and so was the growing frustration. This conversation had taken a wild turn and it’s safe to say that I didn’t like the direction it was headed. It was a rocky path of buried desires and a cocky male ego - a male ego that somehow knew what buttons to press to get my temper sizzling.

“Oh but sweetheart I could make it so good…” his voice was like caramel, becoming harder to ignore as he took another step forward, backing me into the table. I swallowed the almost nervous lump that had started to form in my throat, my heart rate quickening with every second he looked at me with those darkening eyes.

“And why would you want to do that?” I did well at hiding the slight nervous wobble in my voice. He chuckled slightly before breaking eye contact and looking down at his boots, thinking for a moment before shooting his eyes back to me, his intense gaze burning into mine.

“Because for once, I’d love to see that smart mouth of yours moan my name.”

I couldn’t stop that small gasp that escaped between my parted lips at his sudden bold statement, and that small gasp seemed to be all that it took to invite Dean in. In one fluid movement he drained the remainder of the coffee into his mouth and took a final step forward, closing the gap between us and wrapped a single strong arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. His other hand quickly discarded the mug before grasping my face, his thumb pushing into my cheek and urging me to open my mouth. Before I was able to conjure a single thought he’d pulled my mouth to his, his plush lips covering mine before transferring that mouthful of coffee over to me. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of warm liquid gliding over my tongue, the flavour of coffee, sweetened with sugar, would have soothed my senses if it wasn’t for the way it was administered. I hurriedly swallowed it down, not caring for the trickle that escaped the corner of my lips, now more preoccupied with Dean Winchesters mouth pressing onto mine. He allowed one… two… three heated kisses before pulling away, leaving me gasping and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. As he pulled away, he released his grip on my jaw, spotting the trickle of coffee and catching the droplets with his thumb. I didn’t intend to dwell on the action too much, at least not until he pushed his coffee-coated thumb past my lips and into my mouth, pressing lightly on my tongue. Still taken aback by the kiss, I stared up at him dumbly, my mind simultaneously racing whilst emptying itself of all logical thoughts. On instinct, I licked the coffee from his thumb, hearing a gruff hum of approval from him.

“Look at you - quiet for once.”

Before I could retaliate to his comment he pulled his thumb from my mouth and grasped my jaw again, a little softer this time as he guided my face to his. His lips grazed mine as he spoke.

“Have you finished acting like a bitch?”

I nodded.

“Are you sure? Because I think I should fuck you on this table here - just to be sure.”

The involuntary shiver that shimmied down my spine gave my innermost thoughts away when Dean noticed it; another smirk gracing his lips as he pulled himself between my knees and grasped under my thighs to lift me onto the table. I hissed slightly as the cold surface bit at my bare rear, the oversized Metallica t-shirt doing nothing to shield me as it rode up on my hips. There was a short moment, like a breath taken and held as we paused to look at each other. His eyes darkened like a forest at dusk, piercing into my own before studying my lips. I found myself doing the same to him, watching how his gaze darted up and down, frantic to find a focal point on my face whilst his lips parted, tongue poking out to wet them. We shared each other's hot coffee-scented breath, my heartbeat starting to echo in my ears as my blood began to run hot at the thought of him taking me right here on this table. He chewed slightly on his bottom lip, the fantasies of my own prurient mind running rampant at what that mouth was capable of doing to me. What I undeniably wanted it to do to me. Before another thought appeared he hastily leaned in and planted a searing kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling my ear whilst one large, strong hand planted itself just below my shoulder blades; his whole arm crushing me against him. Everything he did made me want to purr. His lips exceeded expectations as he kissed red-hot paths up and down my neck; my skin prickling when he pressed his lips below my ear and jaw, pulling pathetic whimpers from my lungs. He kneaded the silky-soft flesh of my thigh with his other hand, eventually causing me to gently hook my legs around him to ease the desperate need to writhe at his every touch.

“Dean…” his name left my lips as an airy gasp when the hand on my thigh travelled up, his thumb hooking under the waistband of my panties.

“What happened to that big, tough girl persona? Can’t really take it huh?” His taunting words went straight to my brain when he spoke them with his lips pressed right to my ear.

“Fuck, Dean… I hate you.”

He chuckled, placing a kiss on my cheek before uttering over my lips:

“Of course you do, sweetheart.”

As his sentence ceased as his mouth claimed mine, muffling the moan bubbling in my throat as his tongue pushed against my own. I reached one hand up to tug on his hair, dragging my nails across his scalp when the strands at the base of his skull were too short to grasp. He groaned into the kiss, lips moving faster at the sensation of my fingertips. His broad chest became a resting spot for my other hand, the taught muscle flexing beneath soft skin as I glided my delicate fingers up to clutch his shoulder. It was like being in a trance; the only thing I was capable of thinking about was him. Dean. The strength of his hand on my back contrasting the tenderness of the one on my thigh. The heat of his mouth, his tongue on mine, consuming my gasps and ragged breaths. His devouring reduced me to naught but lustful putty in his arms, especially when an assured hand slid from my hip to my ribs and a gentle thumb smoothed over the softness of the underside of my breast. The feather-light touch caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin, the warmth of his palm doing nothing to soothe them away. When a groan passed my lips at his actions, he gripped tighter, my legs instinctively pulling him closer. This time it was Dean that groaned, as pulling him towards me had pressed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans against the soft cotton of my panties. The sensation was electric, igniting the fiery ache between my legs as my thighs twitched when he didn't pull away - instead pushing himself against me harder. I sucked in a breath where I could, his lips refusing to leave mine, even to let me breathe. He was hungry. Animalistic. Dominating. I don't know what I'd been imagining when I was alone in my room in the depths of night, but this… this was something I'd never fantasised about. How commanding he was, how he pulled me in with stern words and an air of authority. Gone was the boyish charm and playful pickup lines - this was something that could easily suck me in and pull me under. He could drown me in sharp comments and tantalising games.

And I would let him.

“Look at you, twitching like a virgin,” he pulled away enough to huskily speak against the corner of my mouth. I moaned slightly, biting my lip when his thumb moved from the underside of my breast to my nipple, delicately toying with the perky skin.

“Who's to say I'm not?” My voice was more breathy than I'd anticipated, my head lolling back when he started to trail kisses down my neck again. My comment pulled a laugh from his chest, the sound almost cutting through the sexual haze.

“Oh darlin’, don't think I don't know about your motel room escapades - I was always in the room next to yours,” he finally pulled back slightly to look at me, the cool air flooding between us in his absence. As my eyes met his, my heart hammered in my chest at the raw blackness of his irises - pupils blown wide with hot arousal and leaving no soft greens in sight. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, realisation creeping in. Dean took it all in with a grin on his lips.

“That's right sweetheart - I heard it all. Every little noise you made when those jerk-offs touched you. When they tried to make you feel good,” his smile faltered slightly before he leaned in a little closer, “but you know, I never heard any of them make you cum. I only ever heard you finish when they were gone and you were all alone.”

He pressed more of those red-hot kisses just below my jaw, the hand on my breast descending, trailing a path down the soft skin of my abdomen before disappearing down the front of my panties. A moan tore from my throat when he slid his skilled fingers through my folds to gather my pooling wetness, his hum of approval ringing in my ears when my mind emptied at his fingers tracing circles around my clit. My grip on him was vice-like, whimpers already tumbling off my tongue.

“You know (Y/n), you should've just come to me. You should've told those useless bastards to fuck off and let me do everything you needed me to do,” his breath was hot against my neck as he spoke, and he finished his sentence off by finally pressing a rough finger against my clit. I whined like a bitch in heat as he went around and around and around, making me clench around nothing and crave him in his entirety.

“I would've done this to you every night - made you forget everything but my name.”

“Dean…”

“Thas’right sweetheart. Never would've left you unsatisfied.”

“Please, Dean… please… I need you to fuck me,” my words were desperate and I could tell he relished in that, suddenly plunging two thick digits inside me without so much as a word. My hands flew to his back, nails digging into broad muscle as I leaned into him, burying my flushed face into his neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent. He curled his fingers up and pushed against the pleasure-cushion inside me, knowing exactly what to look for and what to do with it. My legs tightened even more around him as I was unable to stop the euphoric twitches jolting through my limbs. He removed his hand that was pressed below my shoulder blades and lifted it to my hair, unclipping the claw-grip to let the unruliness tumble out. He practically chucked the plastic clip to the table before threading his fingers through my hair, grasping close to my scalp before tugging my head back to make me look at him.

“Now that you've dropped your attitude and asked nicely, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.”

He pressed his fingers inside me one final time, drawing another pathetic whimper from my lips before pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. I watched, mouth agape and breaths ragged as he licked my slick from his digits, savouring the taste of me with a satisfied groan.

“That’s the best shit I’ve ever tasted,” his deep, gravelly tone had me reaching desperately for his belt buckle as Dean claimed my mouth again, his own eagerness starting to show. As I finished unzipping his jeans I pushed them down his hips just enough to dip my hand into his boxers and pull his cock free. A deep moan pushed its way into my mouth as I curled my fingers around his length, his size already intimidating as his cock rested hot and heavy in my palm. I wasted no time on gripping him tight, starting gentle motions going up and down again, and again, and again, causing Dean to move both hands to my thighs - his grip on me threatening to leave bruises. I dragged my thumb over his tip, urging a blissful shudder to surge through him as I smeared the gathering precum up and down his length. His lips never once left mine. I could feel him becoming breathless as I slowly increased the speed of my hand, so I caught his bottom lip between my teeth as a means to pull away for a moment. As I breathed in his contented groan, I pulled back slightly further to get a look at his face.

“Dean… Dean please - I need you inside me-”

“Stop fucking around then and c’mere.”

I squeaked a little at his harsh tone, unable to stop the next words from tumbling out.

“Yessir.”

I watched his brows knit together and his eyes almost roll before he dropped his head to my neck, grabbing the underside of my thighs and dragging me right to the edge of the table. With one hand he grabbed his cock and used it to move my underwear to one side before lining up and sinking in. The lascivious moans that spilled from our lips were almost harmonious, Dean pushing in to the hilt and forcing me to wrap one arm around his neck and the other to prop me up behind me - both stopping me from losing my balance under Deans intensity. Dean looked as though he was getting lost in a sexual haze as he crushed me against him again with one arm, having the decency to remain still for a few moments so I could adjust to his size as he eye-wateringly stretched out my insides - the sensation almost burning.

“Jesus- fuck-” his breath was slightly strained as he groaned into my neck, “now I’m mad that you decided to fuck lonely jerk-offs instead of me - with a pussy like this- shit- I would’ve been crawling back for more.”

He started to move slowly, pulling out gently before slipping back in - easing me into it with sexual expertise.

“Oh fuck- Dean- you don’t mean that-”

“(Y/n) you’d have to shoot me to stop me - you feel too fucking good.”

He started to up the tension - dropping every ounce of softness as he lost control of that part of him. He fucked the same way that he hunted monsters: raw, skilful and always in control - my mind racing with the knowledge of how dangerous this man actually was. He was Dean fucking Winchester, and here he was - fucking me over the breakfast table whilst I wore nothing but a band t-shirt. As he pounded into me and the intensity grew I was unable to stop the lewd noises tumbling from my lips. Such lewd noises however seemed to spur Dean on, the power of his thighs and hips inching the heavy wooden table across the floor.

“How are you still so fucking tight-” his words were almost slurred, his sexually inebriated mind seemingly becoming obsessed.

“Shit- Dean, I’m getting close already,” my eyes squeezed shut as I began to feel that familiar knot in the depths of my core. With every thrust he dragged over every over-sensitive nerve ending, unravelling me quicker than I’d even been unravelled before.

“Oh yeah? You wanna cum?”

I nodded my head vigorously, loose strands of hair falling around my face as tears started to well in my eyes. Dean glanced down at me without so much as a stutter in his hips, a slight grin playing on his lips even in a moment like this.

“Tears?”

“Fuck-fuck- you Dean, it's not my f-fault you're the first one to fuck me properly- oh God-”

“Well I'm glad it was me sweetheart,” he tried to keep up the slightly playful tone but I could see in his eyes that he was on the brink as well. Without another word he moved one hand to push lightly on my lower belly, his thumb dipping down to rub soft circles over that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the contact, Dean taking the opportunity to plant uncharacteristically soft kisses on my parted lips before whispering:

“I need you to cum for me - I need you to let go. I've got you darlin’.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The circles drawn with his thumb increased in speed and as did the pounding of his hips against mine.

“Dean- Dean please-”

I could feel him winding that knot tighter, and tighter, and tighter; lifting the euphoria coursing through my veins to its highest peak before the white-hot heat of orgasmic bliss erupted inside me. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure cascaded down, drowning me in the most earth shattering climax I'd ever experienced. I could feel myself tightening repeatedly around Dean, his thrusts becoming frantic before his own release rolled through him.

“Oh Fuck- (Y/n)-”

His guttural groan into the crook of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin, the sound of him cumming making me clench even tighter around him.

“You squeeze me any tighter darlin’ and you're gonna kill me,”

“I-I’m not- I mean- I'm sorry?”

He groaned again when I twitched slightly, this time he pulled back to look me in the eye, taking note of the drying tear-tracks and smudged mascara.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, I'm good,” I huffed out a deep, contented sigh, "I am so, so good.”

He grinned, the assertiveness from earlier seeming to dissipate and the good ‘ol Dean was returning.

“Best you've ever had?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.

I playfully slapped his shoulder, not impacting the smirk on his lips whatsoever.

“Easy there cowboy - if your ego gets any bigger there'll be no living with you.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, making him wait a little for the answer before I replied with a grin of my own.

“Yeah, definitely the best I've ever had.”

————————————————————

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200

[ikissjude]

pass or fail .. ☆ pjs

in which bf!jay hilariously fails a “loyalty test” | tiktok series

jay x reader, fluff, crack-ish, warnings: kinda cringe at the end, a kiss, not much dialogue

you loved lazy days. you especially loved lazy days with your beautiful boyfriend, jay. it wasn’t often that you got them, mostly considering that jay was a busy man. if he could help it, jay would take you out every weekend, but you knew he needed the rest and didn’t mind going out every other week.

that’s how you usually spent your weekends: laid up together, limbs tangled up under your covers, with the sun peeking through the curtains. you didn’t mind it at all, soaking up the sunlight and sitting in a comfortable silence with your boyfriend. during this time, it was easy to slip into the rabbit hole that was tiktok. the clock app never loosened the grip it had on you, oftentimes scrolling through videos mindlessly.

dance videos flooded your for you page. you tend to save a lot of them to maybe try and learn later. you stopped scrolling when one specific video caught your eye.

the way the curly-haired singer glided across your screen mesmerized you. the dance was truly addictive, leaving you to save the video in your collection. you honestly wished you could move the way tyla did.

looking through the sound, it seemed like the dance was blowing up. tons of dancers swayed their hips to the sound effortlessly. continuing to scroll, you stopped on a video of a girl ‘testing’ her boyfriend with the sound.

you had seen this prank before with another tyla video. it was kind of funny to see the guys try to look discreetly. with jay right beside you, you figured, “why not?”

by no means were you an insecure person. in fact, you actually loved tyla and admired her skills as a singer and dancer. jay was also not the biggest fan of tiktok, often spending his lazy days scrolling through twitter or reading a book on his phone. there’s no way he could’ve seen the dance going around, right?

clicking the sound, you turned away a bit to make sure the camera had a good view of your boyfriend. after turning up the volume level on your phone a bit, you pressed record. the song played for a few seconds, and for a moment, you really thought jay wouldn’t look back towards the camera. he almost passed your little ‘test’, except… was that his eye?

“park jongseong!” you yelped. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. your jaw dropped when you looked back at your man, only to see him smirking and continuing to read his book.

“i honestly had a feeling you were going to do this sooner or later.” he said.

“you’re not even super active on tiktok? how do you know the trend?”

“riki showed us the video, you know how obsessed he is with tyla.” you should’ve known, as riki loved tyla as much as you did. still, you might need to rethink just how chronically online your boyfriend must actually be.

“you’re not mad i looked, are you?” jay turned his body towards you. by the way your back was still turned to him and your bottom lip jutted out; he wanted to make sure you weren’t genuinely upset.

“no, seong, i’m not mad,” you turned around to look your boyfriend in the eye. “it’s not like tyla is super famous, super talented, pretty, and has an amazing body.” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

“yeah, well, while that might be true, just know you’re better,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “and you want to know why that is?”

“why is that, park jongseong?”

jay gazed deeply into your eyes before capturing your lips in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“because you’re mine.”

© ikissjude 2024

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Um,” he says. “I don’t know that one, I think. What was it on?” 

Lynn shrugs. Billy thinks–well, at least Lynn told him about something he liked, so he can at least try to find it, he figures. 

It takes him a slightly embarrassing amount of time to figure out Lynn is talking about literally the “no signal” screen with all the static, but in his defense he totally forgot that was even a thing and also, like, that is definitely not a show or anything. Though also Lynn didn’t actually call it a show, and either way Lynn wouldn’t know it wasn’t a show, probably, so . . . yeah, whoops. 

Billy definitely should’ve figured that one out a couple minutes sooner, but at least he figured it out. He doesn’t get why Lynn wants to watch static, but since most dads have to sit through, like, Barney and Paw Patrol, he figures he’s getting off lucky. He hasn’t watched TV in a while, no, but he definitely remembers how much Paw Patrol sucked. 

Ugh.

Lynn definitely likes the static either way, so it doesn’t really matter as long as he’s happy, Billy figures. Or, um–well, maybe not happy, really, ‘cuz he’s not sure he’s actually seen Lynn all that happy yet, but at least, like, content? Or like . . . mostly content? 

. . . semi-content? 

Billy really, really hopes Lynn at least isn’t unhappy to have gotten stuck with him. Which–like, if he does change his mind about staying, obviously they can figure something else out for him, but Billy just . . . 

He really wants this to work out, and he really wants to take good care of Lynn, and just–like–

He really wants this to work out. He’d just–he’d feel really bad, if he couldn’t take care of Lynn right. That’s all. 

Well–no. It’s a lot more things than just that. 

The three of them eat in front of, uh, “No Signal”, and it tastes–really good, actually. Like–really good. It’s maybe that it’s been a little while since anybody cooked for him, at least kinda, but Billy feels . . . he feels sort of weird about how good it all tastes, and kind of keeps his eyes on his food for most of it. The static isn’t really something he wants to watch anyway, and he doesn’t wanna make Lynn feel like he’s getting stared at or anything. 

It’s really, really good, though. 

“This is so good, Lynn!” he says enthusiastically, beaming over at him, and Lynn–stiffens, briefly, and then stares blankly at him. Billy resists the urge to wince. Okay, uh . . . yeah. Maybe that was a little too much, or too loud or something. “Um–sorry, just–” 

“It’s fine,” Lynn says stiffly, then tenses a little and looks down at his plate. Billy kinda hates that his own kid thinks interrupting him is gonna get him in, like, trouble, but he knows that’s just because Cadmus sucks. So it’s like–it’s something Lynn’s gonna need a minute to learn, probably, but yeah. Just one more thing, he figures. 

“I really like it,” he says, scooping up another bite of the salmon and pretending to be oblivious to Lynn’s reaction to that. He thinks sometimes that’s just better to do with simple stuff, instead of making somebody feel like everybody thinks they’re messing up all the time. “I kinda thought the, um–glaze? I thought the stuff in the glaze sounded kinda weird to put together, honestly, but it’s really good.” 

“. . . it’s balanced,” Lynn says, not lifting his eyes off his plate. His shoulders relax a little bit, though, so Billy thinks he probably did the right thing. Or at least a right thing, since he guesses there’s probably more than one “right” thing to–anyway. Not really the point. 

“‘Balanced’?” he asks curiously. “Like it’s healthier, you mean? Like a balanced diet thing?” 

“Um . . . no,” Lynn says. “It’s–brown sugar is sweet. Mustard’s–sour. Tangy. So it’s not too much of one or the other.” 

“Oh!” Billy realizes in delight. “That’s so smart, Lynn! I wouldn’t’ve even thought about that.” 

“. . .you don’t need to eat,” Lynn says, glancing guardedly at him. Billy shrugs. 

“Yeah, but still,” he says. “I do, like–like to, when I can.” 

“. . . you like to eat?” Lynn asks hesitantly. Billy doesn’t let himself get weird and complicated or think too much about it and just nods. 

“Yeah,” he says. “And this tastes awesome. We should make a copy of the recipe to make again, if you and Tawky like it too.” 

Lynn stares blankly at him while Tawky nods approvingly. 

“You care if I like it,” Lynn says, less like a question and more like a weird, confusing little realization. Billy . . . well. He knows how that feels, so just smiles encouragingly at him. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean, you need more food than us anyway, so actually it’s more important that you like it. Also, um, you’re my kid, so I want you to like it more than I wanna like it myself anyway.” 

“. . . why,” Lynn says, which is a question, but doesn’t really sound all that different. They should maybe do a little talking practice when he’s feeling up to it, Billy notes to himself. Like, for intonation and stuff. 

“You’re my kid,” he repeats reasonably. “Plus I already know what foods I like, and you still gotta figure out your favorites and stuff.” 

“‘Favorites’,” Lynn repeats, and then, slower–“Because I’m your kid?”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees. Lynn does not look any less blank, which–right, Lynn really doesn’t know how this stuff works. Or–how it’s supposed to, anyway. “Um, because I’m taking care of you, yeah? Like–people who are taking care of you are supposed to care what you like and what your favorites are and all.” 

Lynn looks blankly at him for another moment, then slants his eyes towards the TV. 

“Is that why you put on No Signal?” he asks.

[lila-went-missing]

Because of Her

Small Clarisse drabble I made while watching Are Your Afraid of the Dark? season 3 cause I'll watch anything if Diors in it. It's not that great but I have a fic coming that's slightly similar to this but more frenimies to lovers if that makes sense.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Clarisse La Rue had a reputation to uphold. She never lost a fight. She was never soft, never kind. Always ruthless, cold, and calculating. She was a daughter of Ares if nothing else, that was for certain.

But that all came crashing down the day she met you. The moment her eyes met yours, she knew she was fucked. Your sweet, caring gaze had her locked in. In an instance she was wrapped around your finger.

She would never admit it, but everyone knew she was whipped. Except you, the one person that mattered.

Over the last four years of you being at camp, you two had become extremely close. The fact that you hadn't realized how infatuated your best friend was with you, baffled everyone you knew. You saw the way she stared at you, but that was normal for best friends, right?

She fell more and more in love with you every day. That's what brought her to the strawberry fields. You were knelt next to one of the bushes, picking the ripe berries and tossing them into your basket. Her footsteps broke you out of your trance as she crouched next to you.

"What'cha doin', pretty girl?" A smirk graces her lips as she looks at you.

"Pickin' strawberries. Where've you been, Clar?" You giggle as you look up from the bush. She swears it's the most melodic thing she's ever heard.

"Training a couple of the new kids, you know how long it can take. How about, I make it up to you? How does that sound?"

"Really? How?"

She doesn't answer, she just grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, dragging you away from the fields and into the woods. You laugh as you're led through the trees. After a while she slows, walking side by side with you. Her hand never left yours, pulling you closer to her.

"Where are we going?" You ask, smiling up at her.

"You'll see, we're almost there."

Soon, you came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a blanket laid out with a basket on it, surrounded by flowers.

"It's the anniversary of the day you arrived at camp. I figured we should celebrate." She whispers in your ear, coming behind you with a hand resting on your arm.

"Clar!" You turn to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck. "Thank you!" Her arms come around your waist, pulling you into her. She lifts you up off your feet, carrying you over to the blanket. 

“Of course, pretty girl.” Your placed back onto your feet, sitting with her on the ground. 

“This had to take you ages!” You marvel as everything she’s brought, lemonade, all of your favorite fruit, minis your favorite kinds of sandwiches.

“It was worth it for you.” Your eyes meet, her hand comes to your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s all worth it for you.”

The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare at her. Looking in her eyes feels like swimming in pools of honey, getting lost in the sweetness she only presents to you. The care only you are worthy of. Suddenly her lips are on yours, it takes you a minute to realize and by the time you do she’s pulled back. 

“I- I’m sorry..fuck, I don’t know-” She’s cut off by your lips against hers. It’s passionate and soft, yet hot and fiery. The perfect combination of both of you. Her hands land on your cheeks and pull you furth into her. You could get lost in the way her lips feel, the taste of her cherry chapstick on your tongue. 

“Clar..” You’re both breathing heavily when you pull away.

“I should’ve done that way sooner.” She admits. You nod in agreement. 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t think you liked me like that. Thought you’d hit me and run away.” 

“I could never run from you. Even if I wanted to, I think I’m pretty stuck with you.” You smile, your hand moving up to her neck.

“Yeah, you are.” She smiles back, kissing your cheek 

“Well, we better not let this food go to waste..” You laugh softly, pulling back. She rests on her hands.” Yeah, this took me hours, you better eat it.” 

Another laugh escapes your throat as you pop a piece of fruit in your mouth. “I thought you said I was worth it. Here I was thinking I was special.” Her foot nudges yours. “

“You know you are.” 

The food is divine, and you have more fun than you have in a very long time. The flowers around you seem to bloom more, color saturating more, reflecting on your mood. The breeze is warmer. The trees sprout more leaves. And it’s all because of her.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you always end up under me. you know how it goes, don’t be crazy, don’t play dumb with me.

04, CHAPTER FOUR. ONE IN THE SAME / BLAME GAME.

ju speaks. let me finish out my sparks dreams with this fic… hopefully this cures our full on dallas crash outs cause i worked my ahhh off to finish it today. also paige’s view is so much more fun to write lol. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content (filth but war is over).

present day, may 2025.

i knew she didn’t deserve it. i was biting back words i should’ve just swallowed, and she didn’t even flinch. i almost wish she had. instead, she just looked at me, the disappointment clear as day, like she expected no less of me. no type of change. i knew it the second the words left my mouth—i wanted to pull her back, hold onto her and say whatever she needed to hear. it’s always like that. but it was too late. she left, and now it feels like i’m walking a tightrope again, waiting for the next time she’ll decide to speak to me.

that’s probably why, when i see her walk into this bar tonight, i’m done listening to whatever rickea and cam are rambling on about. it doesn’t matter that i’m here with them, celebrating a win. it doesn’t matter that maya’s been trying to make a place for herself in my life, or that i should be trying to figure out if that’s what i want. because the second nai steps in, it’s like she’s the only person here, and we’re right back where we started.

i’m nursing a shirley temple, pretending it’s something stronger, while rickea and cam talk about the game, looking like they’re about to float right off the barstools. i try not to, but i notice the way nai shakes her head, shoots one of those tight little smiles our way, like she’s already clocked the situation—cam, halfway to tipsy and clearly not ready to leave. she sighs, sliding next to her, which inconveniently places her way too far from me. two seats, really. still too far.

kea greets nai happily, and i force myself to acknowledge her with a raise of my eyebrows. cam pulls her into the conversation all effortlessly, and i think this is the most bubbly i’ve seen the blonde. “nai! you should’ve been here sooner. you saw that blowout, right?” she exclaims, her voice a little too loud.

nai humors her with a smile, but i can tell it’s half-hearted. she’s tired, probably came just to pick cam up and call it a night. i’m sure she’d be getting comfortable if it weren’t for me though.

“aw,” she pouts. “they put up a good fight. you ready to—“ i’m wrapping my lips around a cherry when the bartender comes around to nai, grabbing her attention from her main priority. she slides a napkin in front of her, all thirty two teeth on display, looking her in the eye like she’d fuck her. or worse, she already has.

“oh, i’m not drinking tonight,” i hear her say politely, and i almost break my neck to catch a glimpse of the interaction. it’s stupid. believe me, i know, but i can’t stop.

“cutting back? let me just get you a water then,” she chirps, and i try to make sense of the treatment she’s getting. friends? i don’t care. i know all of nai’s friends. i see the bartender’s eyes flicker to me just for a moment, like she’s measuring the situation despite there being two other people here with us. between us. i look down to her name tag. ana. then, with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s rounding the same corner she came from.

i follow her figure as she leaves, and cam is the first to say something. “man, this feels just like ‘girlfriend of the week’ all over again.” she laughs, reaching for her half-empty vodka cranberry. the second one she’s had tonight. how many shots were in that thing? nai immediately pushes the glass away from her, and her face tightens just a bit, enough for me to catch it.

girlfriend of the week.

i raise my eyebrows, taking my sweet time as i lean back, swirling the straw around in my shirley temple. nai’s sitting back in her chair too, giving me the perfect opportunity to look straight at her. “girl of the week, huh? sounds like you got a whole rotation set up, nai,” i say, just vague enough to leave room for deniability.

she narrows her eyes at me as she adjusts her posture up off the seat, and i change my position too. “yeah,” cam pipes up, giggling like a school girl, “not that it’s any of your business though, paige,” she jokes, pointing an accusing finger at me. i suppose even through blatant confessions she’s still gotta protect her friend. “i mean, what’s it been, a month?“

rickea, sitting beside me, cringes and looks over, her eyes wide with something like regret. she mouths a quiet “sorry,” tilting her head toward cam like he’s apologizing for her, like she knew this was coming before she even opened her mouth. i squint back at her, barely nodding. i don’t want rickea’s silent apologies, i want an explanation.

nai’s lips press into a thin line, and i can see her fingers tapping rhythmically against the counter. she’s holding herself back, probably biting her tongue. it’s almost impressive, but i can’t resist pushing it just a little further.

“well, don’t leave us hanging, cam,” i urge, resting my chin in my hand, eyes glinting. “elaborate.”

cam’s head whips toward me, then back to nai, who’s gone from tense to downright glacial, her eyes shooting daggers at me like i’ve hit a nerve. cam laughs nervously. “oh, i really shouldn’t,” she says, giving a small, forced chuckle that’s more about backing away from the topic than anything else.

i open my mouth, but rickea seizes the moment, standing up and pulling cam off the stool with her. “come on, you’re due for a refill. let’s go check out the line, huh?” she says quickly, steering her toward the bathroom with a not-so-subtle look back at me, like she’s trying to pull them both out of the blast radius. cam stumbles along, protesting with a, “there’s no—“ that i catch before she’s far enough that i can’t hear her slurred words.

i shift, turning fully toward nailea. my elbows rest heavy on the bar, my hands clasped in front of me like i’m calm, but we both know better. she looks ready to up and leave. “so, what’s good? who is she?”

nai’s brows furrow, and she looks at me like i’ve lost it. “what are you talking about?” she asks, her tone clipped, like i’m wasting her time.

“you heard me,” i press, my eyes locked on her. “ana or whoever the hell else—how many it been? ‘cause you clearly left some stuff out.”

she glares at me a second longer before turning her head away, like she’s done with this conversation before it even started. “you don’t get to ask me that, paige.” i can tell she’s trying not to give me any more than that, but it’d never work.

i tilt my head, pushing myself to the edge of the seat, letting the words roll off. “nah, i think i do,” i say, keeping my voice low, licking my lips. “you can’t give me hell ‘bout maya and then act like i’m outta pocket for asking this. how many, lea?”

she whips her head to me, finally, eyes all annoyed and fiery. it’s clear i’m treading thin ice with her, and i’m completely oblivious to the breaking point. “you don’t want to know,” she argues. “and even if you did, it wouldn’t change a thing. we’re not together. remember?” she reminds with this petty ass shrug, and it makes me wanna—

the bartender, ana, strolls back over then, her timing so bad it feels intentional. she sets the water nai had clearly ordered out of politeness with this heedless smile, as if she can’t read a room. i sit back, biting back whatever i want to throw out next, letting the silence speak for itself.

nai thanks her, avoids eye contact, and she glances between the two of us like she’s trying to figure out the vibe, and i know she feels it, but she doesn’t take the hint. of course not.

“yo,” i say, tilting my head up in her direction, and maybe i shouldn’t have said anything at all. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” i gesture between nai and i, and she scrunches her face up, probably at the mention of ‘we.’

ana blinks, her smile faltering, but instead of backing off, she has the nerve to look at nai, like she’s trying to gauge if she needs saving or some shit. “you okay?” she asks, her voice all soft, like i’m not sitting right here.

the audacity.

“she good, bro,” i cut in before nai can even think about answering for herself, my words quick and clipped. i throw in a tight smile for effect, but it’s not doing much to hide the clear attitude i’d just given her. “appreciate the concern, though.”

ana’s face shifts, her smile completely gone now, and she stares at me for a beat too long before nodding awkwardly, fingernails tapping against the counter. “alright, uh, just let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles, finally walking away.

i don’t feel any better watching her leave. i clench my jaw, that sharp burn in my chest flaring up again. nai’s silence digs into me. why isn’t she saying anything? yelling that it isn’t my place?

i glance over at her. she’s not looking at me. not even at the glass of water sitting untouched in front of her, and then she moves. quiet and deliberate, she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder without so much as a glance in my direction. i furrow my eyebrows in confusion. she’s leaving? she’s leaving.

“nai.” my voice is low but filled with enough stern to catch her as she turns toward the exit. she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me anything.

i shouldn’t follow her. i know i shouldn’t. i should’ve just left it at that. but theres several parts of me that can’t leave her alone no matter how hard i try to respect her wishes. it’s a continuous thing. a bad habit, really.

but the second she pushes through the door, i’m up. the chair scrapes loudly against the floor as i shove it back. i drop a twenty next to my drink, and before i can think better of it, i’m heading after her.

the air outside feels no less suffocating than it did in the bar, warm and sticky like its clinging to my skin. nai’s halfway across the lot already, her pace quick and determined as she beelines for her car. my legs are much faster than hers though. her keys are clutched tightly in her hand, the sound of the fob unlocking her door breaking through the quiet.

“nai,” i call, my voice on the rise as i stride toward her. she doesn’t stop.

“nai!” i know her well enough to see it—the way her shoulders stiffen, the slight hesitation in her stride. she hears me. she just doesn’t want to. it says everything: leave me the fuck alone, paige. i can even hear her voice say it in my head.

but i’m not gonna listen. obviously.

“i wasn’t done talking to you,“ i say, the frustration etched across my entire face.

she stops and exhales sharply, jaw tightening as she drops her keys to dangle loosely from her fingers. her other hand is gripping the strap of her purse like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. she’s quiet, just angling her body toward the car like she’s going to keep pretending i’m not here.

not happening.

“aight.” i nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “the hard way?” it’s less of a question, more of ‘i know how this is about to go.’ i shift, stepping in front of her car door, my lanyard swaying out of the pocket of my sweatpants with the motion.

she glares up at me, and her head tilts just slightly, like she can’t believe i’m doing this. again. “get out the way,” she says flatly, though she knows those four words won’t do much to get me to do what she wants.

i’m not letting it go this time. “can you stop tryna’ leave when things get tough? you love walkin’ out on me instead of talk—“

“i left because i don’t want to do this again! i’m done trying to figure you out, and i’m done listening to you lie to me, paige,” she yells, and i swallow down the stern cut-off i planned to give her. “i can’t trust you.” she emphasizes every word, and i know there’s no quick fix, no easy answer. she’s right. i’ve given her every reason not to trust me.

i wish i could take it all back—the lies, the bullshit, the nights i wasn’t what she needed. but i can’t. and now i don’t know what to do, what to say, to make her believe that i wouldn’t do it again if i was given another shot.

“i know i messed up,” I finally say. it’s not the defense i’m used to putting up, not the sharp rebuttal i usually throw out. but i can’t fight her on it, it’ll only make her put both feet out the door.

she scoffs, shaking her head. “you can’t even fucking help it either.” she isn’t holding back. “you’re stubborn, you think shit is a game half the time, you don’t ever follow through…”

she’s rambling now, telling me how much of a piece of shit i am. she’s doing it so effortlessly, like she’s been rehearsing this in her head for months, years maybe, and somehow, someway, it doesn’t effect me when i hear her say it. not in the way it should.

i already know these things. i’ve heard it all before—hell, i’ve told myself most of it. but hearing it from her? the way she’s spilling it all out in dim light of this parking lot like she’s trying to exorcise me from her life for good? it should for the least bit sting. should make me feel guilty. but all i can think about is how good she looks when she’s angry, how her eyes flash and her chest rises and falls.

how she’s putting all her energy into this argument because she cares.

i run a hand down my ponytail, exhaling through my nose. “you done?” i interrupt.

she lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, her hair falling into her face before she pushes it back with a sharp motion. “no, i’m not done, paige,” she snaps, and i nod my head, crossing my arms over my chest as she continues. “i’m so fucking tired of this—of you. of us. you don’t get it. you never get it. and i could leave you alone. block you, never speak to you again, but—“

i shift on my feet, licking my lips. “but you don’t wanna,” i finish for her.

she quirks a brow at me. “don’t tell me what i do and don’t want.” i want to laugh, because of course that’s how she’d respond. it’s probably how i would too. the irony isn’t lost on me.

“we’re the same,” i say.

her head jerks back slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “what?”

“we’re the same,” i repeat, meeting her gaze head-on. “that’s why we keep coming back to each other, nai. why we can’t let go. what are the odds we found each other again in la? you know it just as much as i do.”

she stares at me, lips pressing into a tight line, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to figure out whether i’m full of shit or actually making sense for once. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but i can see the wheels turning in her head, the way she’s trying to process what i just said.

“i’m not saying i’m perfect,” i add, stepping closer, lifting my body up off her car as i drop my voice lower. “i’m not. i fuck up. a lot. but i’ve always come back to you. always. and you? you always been there too, even when you’re mad, even when you’re hurt. we keep coming back because we don’t wanna lose this. each other.”

her lips part, her breathing uneven as she shakes her head again, though there’s less conviction behind it now. “don’t—” she starts, her voice trembling just slightly. “don’t do that. don’t make it sound like this is some… fate bullshit or whatever. it’s not. it’s messy, and it’s fucked up, and you—”

“me what, nai!?” i yell, and i think i’m just tired of her singling me out in all this like it hasn’t been a two-way street this entire time.

she squints at me, stepping closer, but i don’t back down. we’re closer now. too close. “you don’t get what it feels like to keep trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back.” fuck. “you say all the right things, and then you fuck it up every single time.” her voice is calm, almost like she’s sick of yelling.

i feel my jaw clench involuntarily, and she’s getting me heated without trying. “that’s not true…” i start, but she doesn’t let me finish.

“shut up,” she snaps. “you think chasing after me, spitting a whole bunch of nothing about how we’re meant to be is gonna be the bandaid for all of this? you don’t even care about how much you’ve hurt me, paige. you never did.”

“that’s not fair, you know it,” i fire back. “and stop barkin’ at me like that.”

“or what? what are you gonna do?”

my hands are on her. her hips more specifically, guiding her over until she’s pinned against her the metal of her civic. she doesn’t fight it, even though she can’t with the way i’m handling her. her body flattens against it. “you know what i’m gonna do, nai?” i glance over her head, my eyes scanning the parking lot. still empty, just like when we got here. no headlights. no newcomers pulling in to park next to her car, not at this time of night.

her expression doesn’t waver. chin raised. lips tight. eyes locked on mine, daring me to follow through and say something that’ll only piss her off more. but i’m not giving her that. instead, i move my hand up under her jaw, forcing her head up to look at me. she whimpers, not expecting it.

i lean down, lips ghosting over her cheek. “i’m gonna remind you why you always come back.” her eyes have stayed on me, and she looks furious, hands glued to her sides.

but i’m not the one to initiate the crash of our lips, the sloppy spit exchange, she is.

her hands move to my shoulders, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine as if she’s trying to meld with me, trying to make this real again.

“you’re so…” it’s rough, a collision of teeth and tongues as she pulls me deeper, her body pressing me harder against hers. “fucking annoying,” she breathes. i tighten my hands around her hips, guiding her to move in sync with me, and she lets out a, “fuck,” finalizing her frustrations that only pushes me further.

“okay,” i nod, tugging at her bottom lip as i pull away, just enough to look into her eyes. “you can talk all the shit you want in this backseat.”

without waiting for a response, i take a few steps and pull the car door open, the interior lights flickering on over a whole area practically ready for us. begging us to fall into it. she hesitates, glancing inside and then back at me.

she smiles, a slow, knowing grin, and that’s all i need to see. without another word, she moves around me, slipping into the car. i lick my lips, smiling to myself as i follow her in, the door shutting softly behind me.

the lights are off just as quick.

we’ve done this enough times that she knows the drill. she slides the front seats up, making room for me to stretch out, spreading my legs wide to take up the space. i get comfortable, resting my head back, and my hands have already found her hips again, pulling her to straddle me.

she takes her time, teasing me in a way i’m starting to crave. when she finally settles over me, i waste no time pulling her closer until our bodies are flush, and i can feel her against me—the warmth of her cunt through the thin pair of panties she’s wearing.

the worst part? i’ve been thinking about what’s under this jean skirt since she walked in that fucking bar.

i grin like an idiot as my head lolls to the side, my lips pulling into a smirk as she leans down to cup my face with one hand. our lips crash together again, more sloppy than the first. it’s desperate, and feels so good. there’s something else there, too—something that makes me want more. every inch of me is focused on the way her mouth moves against mine, how she’s making me lose control all over again.

braaking away from the kiss, i trail my lips down her neck, sucking and biting gently. she grinds her hips against me, and all i don’t think about claiming her with a few marks just to be cheeky, i do.

“tell me how bad you want it,” i whisper, breath fanning over the now sensitive parts of her skin. i pin her hips in one spot, and she whines slightly, not being able to do anything to get herself off.

“don’t make me, p,” she mumbles all seductively, and my eyes meet hers in the way that normally mean i’m not fucking around with her.

she realizes, and her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth. “want your fingers…” she trails off, eyes trailing down to where my crotch is. she brings her own hand down, and i shift, sucking in. “inside of me,” she finishes. “please, paige… make me come.” she presses deeper, and i swear she’s just about the only one who knows exactly how to keep me on my toes.

“mmm.” i roll my head back to her, biting down on my lip as i hike her skirt up over her ass with both hands. i let them roam before placing one right underneath her, pushing her panties to the side. i find her wetness quick, pressing my middle and index finger through her folds. “here?” i tease as i start stroking.

she nods, arching against my hand, and i can already tell she’ll be struggling to stay upright. she throws her head back instead, letting her pants fog up the windows. “i’ont think i heard you, baby,” i taunt, biting down on my lip and circling just a little slower.

her hand wraps around my wrist, practically pushing me deeper into her. “yes, there, you ass,” she mumbles all breathless. i chuckle, feeling my body getting hot as i slip both fingers in, lips parting at the squelching sound that begins filling the car. she grinds down, making me dig even deeper.

i’ve hooked my other arm under her thigh, keeping her from going too far as i pick up a rhythm that has her losing it. her body moves like it’s made for this, like it knows how to follow my lead without even thinking about it. her pretty eyes flutter shut, and i feel her tighten again, clenching around me like she doesn’t wanna let go. she can’t.

“so fuckin’ tight. you like when i stretch you out?”

with her acrylics digging into the side of my neck, she begins bucking her hips, licking over her plump lips with a whine. “love it, p. feels s’good—shit,” she gasps, her normally doe, wide eyes all blown out from the pleasure.

“mhm? that good?” i bite on my lip so hard i swear it might bleed, moving my fingers all the way out and ramming them back in repeatedly. her breaths are shallow, uneven, and we’re doing just about the same amount of work. “show me how good, ma. show me you’re mine.”

i follow her gaze, looking for her eyes before she drops her head with a pathetic whine, picking up the pace of her hips, and the way her tits bounce in that top have me physically refraining from getting her more messy than she already is.

her hands start to trail up my body, and i feel the fabric of my shirt shift as her fingers slide underneath, her palms warm against my skin. she pushes it higher and higher, her movements unhurried, leaving the end of it bunched up in her hands, resting on my chest. i can’t help it—i flex, my muscles tightening under her touch, and her eyes drop, watching the way my body reacts to her.

her forehead leans further into my neck. “paige…”

i adjust my grip, sliding deeper, and she reacts instantly, her nails scratching at the back of my neck like she’s trying to hang on. my hand moves slower now, but with more purpose, every little motion driving her higher. “yeah,” i mumble gravelly, right against her ear. “c’mon, talk to me, baby. lemme hear you.”

her body jerks, like my voice alone is messing her up, and i can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. my lips find her jaw, then dip to her neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses down her skin that are more-so like licks, tasting her. i want her to feel this everywhere—every touch, every word, everything i’m doing to her right now.

i scissor my fingers wider, and her hips grind against my hand faster, chasing it like she’s got no choice. “don’t stop,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, and it makes me damn near lose it. “please. fuuuck.”

i lean back just enough to make her look at me, my fingers not letting up for even a second. she’s completely wrecked, her lips parted, breathing all over the place, and it’s a sight i’ll never forget. “aight,” i say, my grip tightening on her thigh as i furrow my eyebrows, chewing on my lip for some relief. “i got you. you almost there, pretty? c’mon, you know you wanna come.”

nai nods feverishly, and i can already see some of her wetness spilling out of her with every thrust, seeping into my sweatpants. she screws her eyes shut, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth, and it fuels me, my fingers working her just right.

“this?” i growl, curling right up under that deep sticky patch that’s gonna send her right over the edge. “that’s me. you feel that? nobody else. just me.”

“paige. shit. stop that—“ she gasps again, and i can tell she’s right there, hanging on by a thread. my thumb presses harder against her clit, my fingers curling deeper, and i lean into her ear again, my voice coming just over the sex sounds. “say it. say you’re mine, baby. don’t act shy now.”

her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, wide and glossy, like i’ve pulled something raw out of her. “i’m yours,” she chokes out, and it’s all she manages before her body locks up, trembling hard as she falls apart in my arms, completely wrecked.

i hold her through it as her breath stutters against my neck, my hands steady, my lips brushing over her temple as i mutter, “that’s my girl.”

her breathing slows, and she stays close, like she’s tethered herself to me, and i let her. my hand pulls out of her, moving to soothe the small of her back in lazy circles, my head tilting to press my lips to her hair. her scent clings to me—sweet, familiar, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s dangerous.

“you good?” i ask, a little quieter now, dipping into something softer, something i don’t let just anyone hear. only her.

she nods faintly against my shoulder, and i can feel her heartbeat slowing down, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself. her hands grip my shirt like she’s afraid i’ll pull away, so i stay, holding her just a little tighter, letting the silence stretch between us.

finally, she pulls back, just enough to look at me. her face is flushed, her lips graced with this small smile, and her eyes are still shining.

“44.2%,” she whispers.

i blink, knitting my eyebrows together as i smirk slowly. “what?”

“the odds,” she says, rolling her eyes as a grin pulls wider across her flushed face. “that you got drafted here. that we found each other again in la.”

i smile. not because she looks stupid for remembering that or even because it’s the first thing she thought of after everything we just did, but because it’s not fate, it’s us.

[patito-oward]

Always Been You

masterlist

Prompt: And the other is about how Pato falls in love with the reader, just how he says "oh yeah she's THE ONE"

since this prompt was pretty vague I took a lot of liberties with it, but I still hope you like it :)

Summary: After being dumped by his long term girlfriend, Pato realizes everything he’s ever wanted in a relationship has been right in front of him

WC: 4.1k

It happened very suddenly. Here’s the thing, Pato didn’t mean for it to happen at all. On the list of things he had planned for the year, this was definitely not on it. A 500 win? Definitely. A championship? Yep. Extending his contract with Mclaren? Right again. But starting the off season by being dumped by his long term girlfriend and realizing he’s in love with his best friend was not anywhere in his mind.

It all started at the last race of the season, Pato was leading the championship, and granted he got a podium on this race he would finally have his championship victory. To celebrate and support, almost everyone he knew came to Nashville. Pato rented out a block of rooms at a hotel, and one of the many people who showed up for him was his childhood best friend, YN.

So maybe it all started in 2008, when YN and Pato were in second grade and met on the playground at recess. YN was sitting on the swings reading a book when Pato approached her, he was new to San Antonio and didn’t have any friends, and wanted to know if they could be friends. From then on the two were inseparable. Pato was a daredevil at heart, and would often hurt himself, and YN would take the delicate time of walking him to the school nurse and kissing his injuries better. Pato always made YN laugh, and made sure she was never sad, no matter what happened in YN’s life, Pato was there everyday to make her smile.

As they got older their relationship changed, it lost a little bit of their childish innocence, but they grew so much closer. YN was at Pato’s first win in karting, and she was more excited than he was. When YN’s childhood dog died, Pato was at her house at 6:00 AM and spent the whole day with her, trying to cheer her up. They’d even started their own holiday traditions, every year on Christmas Eve, the two of them spent the day making cookies together and exchanged presents. YN had practically become family, she didn’t have the best home life, and the entire O’Ward family was so loving that she ended up spending more time with them than her actual family.

The two dated for a few months in eighth grade, and were each other’s first kiss, but when Pato began racing for F4 and was in France every weekend the two agreed it was best they just stayed friends. Since then that is all they had been, things in YN’s home got significantly worse as they went through high school and despite whatever Pato may have felt, he knew she needed his friendship and wasn’t willing to risk their relationship.

With Pato coming up through Indycar and YN being a full time student and having a job, it was easy to assume the two would drift after high school, that was never the case. They still saw each other everytime Pato was in Texas and Pato made sure YN made a couple of races every year. She remained his biggest supporter as he went from her hometown best friend to the most popular driver in Indycar.

Fast forward to now, things were going pretty perfect for Pato. He finally won the 500, he’s about to win the championship, and he’s got a great girlfriend, Maria. He figures he’ll marry her, he does love her, she’s supportive and nice and insanely hot. They’ve been dating for over a year and things have been going really well. The only time they’ve ever really fought is over YN, when she found out there was a “history” between them, and in hindsight Pato realizes maybe he should’ve told her sooner, but he never really thought about it. Yeah they’d dated for a few months a lifetime ago, but she’s always just been his YN, he doesn’t even think of her like that anymore. YN was one of the most sure things in his life, and sure for awhile he always thought what if?, but that was in the past.

All that being said, he didn’t think twice about inviting her to Nashville to watch him possibly win the championship. YN wasn’t able to make it to the 500, or any other race this year, and he wished she was there. She knew more than anyone how much this had meant to him, coming up after losses she was always the person he went to, and he wanted her to see him now that it had all been worth it. YN was reluctant to come, but after a lot of begging from Pato she agreed.

Thursday night he made sure everyone he invited out came to dinner with him at a steakhouse. There were 20 people at the restaurant, but Pato ended up with Maria sitting next to him and YN sitting across next to Elba. Maybe Pato should’ve realized it, the tension in her shoulders and how Maria’s smile tightened as he laughed at YN’s jokes, but he didn’t. So Maria sat there all night, and she really tried to be understanding, but she felt as if she was third-wheeling her own relationship. She had to listen to a million inside jokes she didn’t understand, and watch as his family fawned over YN.

It was at that dinner she realized that she’d spent a year dating a taken man. Pato was too good of a man, she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it became undeniable. As she watched him, she realized everything she felt for him, he felt for the woman across the table. At first she felt possessive, the need to prove that he was her partner, and that no matter what he’d chosen her over YN, but as time passed she felt less possessive and realized that there was no way to continue the relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, she deserved a man who loved her and only her, and Pato deserved to be with the person he loves.

After the dinner, they headed back to the hotel where Pato, who was utterly clueless of her realization, continued to be the perfect man, only making it so much harder for Maria to leave. She didn’t know how long she should let it go on for, if she broke things off now would she be getting in his head and ruining the weekend for him? Would continuing a relationship she’s already checking out of be just as cruel? Could she stand the rest of the weekend watching her boyfriend making heart eyes at another woman?

After sleeping on it, or rather not sleeping very much at all, she’d come to the conclusion that a clean break was best for everyone. They ordered breakfast to the room and as they sat at the small dinette she knew she had to bring it up.

Pato was halfway done with his breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten much at all, mostly just pushing her food around with her fork. “Pato, I think we need to talk.”

It’s rare that she’s this serious, and Pato knows that can’t be good, his silverware clatters as he sets it down and looks up at her. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a moment, not knowing the best way to start the conversation. “It’s YN.”

Pato’s shocked, he doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that, “What about YN?”

She figures there’s no reason to beat around the bush, “You’re in love with her.”

Pato’s a lot of things, surprised for sure, but also shockingly defensive and angry. “What? Babe, that’s ridiculous. I know you were upset about us in middle school, but I swear there’s nothing going on! I would never even think about cheating on you!”

She rested her hand on top of his, “I know you would never cheat on me, and I know you said there’s nothing and I believe you, but I saw the way you looked at her, and how she fit into your life, and it makes so much sense because you love her.”

Pato doesn’t really know what to say to that, “I love you.”

“But you are in love with her. Listen I love you, Pato, and you’re such a good man, but it’s not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. Not when your heart clearly isn’t in it.” Maria struggles over her words, voice cracking and eyes watering, but a soft smile is on her face as she says them.

“Are you saying what I think you are? You’re just giving up?”

“Pato, I’m letting you free, tell her how you feel, you deserve that kind of love.”

And maybe what she’s saying finally resonates with him because the best thing he says is, “I never meant to hurt you.”

She lets out a broken laugh at that, a single tear rolling down her face, “Oh, Pato, you never could, we aren’t meant for each other, but we still had a lot of fun, right?” He nods at her.

After that she’s on a plane and back to her home before he knows it. Pato’s sad, he feels a little empty, someone who had been such a big part in his life just walked out leaving the biggest mess in her wake. He thought about her words, but shook them off. He loved YN, of course he did, but it wasn’t like that, she was like a sister to him.

Although it’s not his sister he messages asking if she wants to come over. YN is at his hotel room within a minute of him sending the “you busy?” text. YN asks where Maria is, but all he has to say is “gone.” and YN knows to drop it.

YN knows him better than anyone, knows that he has an irrational fear of being destined to fail at every relationship. She knows he has never actually broken up with a girl, only ever been broken up with, and she knows he spent over two years single because he was afraid of being hurt. But she also knows that there’s no way anyone could spend more than an hour with him and not be in love with him, God knows she is.

It’s the way he knows her, inside and out, but it’s also the way he makes everyone around him laugh, and spends hours interacting with his fans to make them all happy, and how caring he is with animals and babies. YN is only human, how is she supposed to feel when her insanely attractive best friend is doting over her niece?

YN puts it all aside because she’s his best friend first, she’d made that promise to herself a long time ago and she’s always kept it. She sits with him and watches Friends reruns with him, he’ll talk when he wants to, but until then she’ll be by his side.

They don’t end up talking, the one good channel the hotel room has switches from Friends to Modern Family, and then Pato has to go practice. A quick google search helps her find the best tacos in Nashville, so while he’s gone she runs out to get them dinner. They had dinner plans with his parents and Elba, but YN texted Elba long ago to let her know that plans were changing. He’s a superstar, so of course he doesn’t let his life affect him and it still the fastest person in the first practice, YN thinks that’s a good sign.

When he returns he seems to be a little better, talking to YN about track conditions over their dinner. YN has had enough of waiting for Pato to bring it up, and she can tell he’s feeling better, so she has to work up the courage to ask him what happened.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Maria or am I supposed to guess?”

His smile drops, turning into one that’s much smaller and forced. “She just left.”

“No explanation? She just woke up and was gone?”

“Oh, she had an explanation but it was bullshit. She probably just got tired of me, it's no big deal.”

YN furrows her brows at that. “Pato stop it, you’re so great anyone would be so lucky to be with you. Maybe there was some merit behind what she said.”

“Well she said I was in love with you, but I told her so many times we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

YN’s stomach sinks at that, it’s not like she expected him to confess his love, but he didn’t need to friendzone her that hard. “Oh.” Is all she can think to say.

“I mean you’re great, but you’re like a sister to me!”

YN forces out a laugh, “Right.” She also can’t help but feel like maybe it’s her fault this all happened, was her pining really that obvious? “Well then, she’s stupid for leaving because she’s not going to find anyone better.”

Pato’s smile is genuine for the first time since the conversation started, “Thank you, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“Right, and don’t forget that when you’re trying to figure out what to do with all your championship earnings.”

He lets out a real laugh at that, a stark contrast to how mopey he’d been the rest of the day. “One, greedy, and two, I’m not buying you anything else. I'm tired of you getting mad when I spend money on you.”

“Pato, a graduation gift is fifty bucks, not a two thousand dollar tennis bracelet.”

He leans back in his seat and shrugs, smirking as he says, “Yet I’ve never seen you not wearing the bracelet.”

YN’s eyes go to her wrist where, sure enough, the bracelet was, just like everyday for the past three years. When Pato gave her the bracelet she refused to take it, saying it was too much and he needed to return it. After arguing for ten minutes she thought he’d finally agreed to take the bracelet back, but found it later sitting on her dresser. “What can I say? You have good taste.”

The rest of the night mirrored the morning, but had a much different tone, the two of them sat sprawled out on the couch quoting the episodes of Friends that were on, having seen them so many times they were known by heart.

When YN went to her own hotel room Pato realized how empty the place felt again, something he hadn’t noticed all day. He chose not to think too hard about how effortlessly YN took up space in his life.

The next morning, Pato had already scheduled to have everyone meet in the lobby so he could take them to the track for the day. YN had clearly told everyone about Maria because despite some odd looks no one asked about her and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think twice when everyone began to split into different cars and he pulled YN along with him, or when they arrived at the track and Pato sent most people up into a suite, but brought YN and his immediate family to the pits. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, and how it’s supposed to be.

Pato gets swept up in work for the rest of the day and YN gets to spend some real time with her second family. As soon as they’re alone, Elba doesn’t hesitate to start interrogating her.

“What happened with Maria?”

“Apparently she told Pato he’s in love with me and just left.” YN shrugs as she says it, still a little puzzled by the whole thing.

“Huh.”

“What? No ‘huh’ I know what that means just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just thought Maria knew by now and didn’t care, maybe she’s not as smart as I gave her credit for.”

“What do you mean? Knew what?”

“Come on, YN, Pato’s been in love with you since you were nine, I wouldn’t want to be dating him.”

YN is struggling to process what she’s hearing, and automatically turns to deflection. “He is not.”

“Oh my god.” Elba starts giggling maniacally.

YN has no clue what could be funny, “What!?”

“You’re in love with him too!”

“I am not!” Despite her refusal, YN can feel and Elba can see the heat rising up her neck.

“You totally are! All this time I thought you had to know it’s so obvious, I mean, he follows you around like a puppy, but you had no idea!”

“Ok, keep your voice down.” YN puts her hand over Elba’s mouth really not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. “Even if I did like him, and I’m not saying I do, he does not feel the same. I mean you should’ve heard how hard he friendzoned me yesterday.”

Elba looks sympathetic then, “Babe, I think my brother has spent so long denying himself what he wants he doesn’t even know what that is anymore. I love him dearly, but relationships are not his strong suit.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate because I am certainly not going to be the one to ruin our friendship.”

Elba’s exasperated, “Oh my god, you two are exhausting!”

By the time Elba finished her intervention, qualifying finished resulting in Pato getting the pole. Mclaren has been dominant the last few weekends, and this weekend is no different with all three cars in the fast six. Pato is in the driver’s lot, getting ready to head back to the hotel, everyone else had dispersed from the track, and Felix has tracked down Pato and is calling after him.

“Hey, Felix! What’s up?”

“Bro, you’re about to win this fucking thing.” There’s nothing but excitement from Felix for his best friend.

“I know, I just hope tomorrow is a clean race and we can bring this thing home.”

“You’ve got this, I know it. Hey, where’s Maria been all day?” Felix says it like he’s just realizing she’s not around.

“Who knows. Yesterday morning she woke up determined that I’m secretly in love with YN and got on the next plane out.”

“So you guys are done?”

“Yeah about as done as you can be.”

“And YN?”

“YN is my best friend.”

“No, I'm your best friend.”

“Sorry, Fro, even you lose to YN.”

“I don’t want to win what YN is winning.”

Pato rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, huffing, “And what exactly is YN winning?”

Felix puts his hands up in self-defense, “Listen, all I’m saying is if you looked at me like you do YN, I think Emille would feel threatened.”

“Very funny.” Pato kicks the ground, staring at his shoe, he thinks about his relationship with Felix versus his with YN, sure it’s different, but him and YN have so much history. “Look, I don’t know what I feel for YN, but I don’t care either because she’s too important as a friend for me to lose her.”

“Mate you’ve been practically dating for years, I don’t think making it official will ruin anything.”

With that last piece of advice Felix takes off, leaving Pato alone with his thoughts. The whole drive back to the hotel and the rest of the night he spent thinking about YN. If everyone closest to him is saying one thing, how could they all be wrong? He thinks about everything they’ve been through together.

His first win in karting when she was the first person he ran to when he got out of the car; how she comes to every family reunion and often traveled to Mexico to spend time with his family; their senior prom when she was sad about not having a date, but she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen that night; except for Christmas mornings when she’s in her pajamas and he gets to watch her eyes light up as they answer presents together. Maybe it’s been in front of him all along. What’s been missing from all of his other relationships has been right there.

It’s a lot to take in, but it doesn’t really matter because, like he told Felix, he wouldn’t risk their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same. He can handle a trail of failed relationships, but he could never handle losing YN. He went to bed that night knowing he had to just focus on the race and on bringing home the championship.

The next morning he’s awoken by a knock on the door. “Patricio! Open up, room service!”

He knows who’s behind the door before he opens it, there’s only one person who cares enough to bring him breakfast. When he lets YN in he sees the bag full of takeout food from a nearby diner. “Breakfast of champions, for the champion.”

Of course she’s already decided he’s a champion before the race. No one has ever believed in him as much as her. “Calm down, I don't want you to jinx me.”

“Au contraire my friend, a jinx would mean you’re winning by luck, and you are winning by sheer talent.”

It always amazes him how smart she is in the morning, he knows no more than 5 words for a solid hour after waking up, and she’s always speaking a million words a minute. “7AM is too early to be speaking another language.”

“Aw, pobrecito, ¿estás cansado?” She knew very minimal spanish, but had picked some up from time spent with his family, and used it pretty exclusively to tease him.

“You’re so not funny my brain hurts.” He is slouched over the table with his head resting on his arms.

She begins to unpack the food in front of him, “Alright, come on, time to wake up you’ve got a big day.”

The smell of eggs and bacon is what gets him to lift his head and start eating. He tries not to focus on the fact that she got him exactly what he eats every race day because that’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to touch. Regardless he eats the meal, and is sad when she pulls out her pancakes and begins to eat with him. She offers him a bite which he takes, but they both know he won’t eat any more than that because he doesn’t like big meals before a race.

After they finish, YN starts picking up their trash and Pato thanks her, “You take such good care of me, can’t believe you brought me breakfast I’m not worthy.” She’s glad for her back being turned to him because she can feel how much she’s blushing.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, leave it to YN to be the eye in his hurricane, bringing calm before the storm. The race was close, a shitty pit stop meant Pato had to make some big passes to make up position, but Pato ended up pulling away with the final race win of the season and the championship.

YN and Elba leave the suite a few laps early so they can be on pit lane when he gets the win. After his victory lap and celebratory donuts he pulls into pit lane. Immediately his crew is flooding around him as he struggles to get out. Once he does there’s a giant group hug around Pato. Rossi and Fro also both make their way to his pits to congratulate him.

When Felix pulls Pato into a hug he whispers into his ear, “Why haven’t you gone to your girl yet, she’s waiting for you.”

Felix’s words had weight to them, all these people were surrounding him, but none of them had been on this journey with him as long as her. She waited for him for the last 15 years while he chased a career and different women, and now he’s at the peak of his career, having everything he ever wanted, and she’s not the one by his side. It hits him like a ton of bricks how bad he wants her to be the one celebrating this win with him, and every win for the rest of his life. Walking over to YN he pulls her into a hug, hoping that everything he’s feeling can be conveyed through the touch.

YN is in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could do it.”

He can’t find the right words, so all he says is, “I’m so glad you’re here.” he’ll explain later.

Holding her in front of thousands of people, Pato isn’t scared of losing their friendship anymore. He’s not sure of a lot, but he knows they’ll be ok, and that he’s loved her since before he knew what love was.

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

Hi love, will you do a percy jackson x reader where one of the gods is after her and he gets super protective

"Together"

[Percy Jackson x demigod!fem!reader]

Masterlist

takes place after HoO

Summary: When an angry god threatens your safety, you confide in Percy Jackson.

Warnings: Some mentions of threat and danger, fluff

Word count: 853 words

A/N: First request, Sorry if it's not what you wanted! Godly parent is up to you.

You never think your normal life will mix with gods and monsters in the first place. But after a run-in with an angry god, things get worse. His constant threats cause you to watch your back everywhere. You aren't even sure how you end up with him behind you.

Percy notices something is wrong. Of course he does; there is almost nothing you can hide from him. You have been quiet, and your usual laughter is gone. One afternoon, you two sit by the lake, and he looks at you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. “You seem off. Is someone bothering you?”

You hesitate. You know you can trust him, but you don't want to make it his burden; there is already so much he has to deal with. Even thinking about adding to that makes you feel guilty.

Taking a deep breath, you tell him about the god who won’t leave you alone—how he shows up at the worst times and makes you feel scared.

Him saying your name is what causes you to snap out of your thoughts. "Hey. What's wrong?" He looks even more concerned than before.

Well, that isn’t what you want.

You take a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s… it’s a god,” you finally admit. “He’s been threatening me, Percy. I don’t know why, but he just won’t leave me alone.”

Percy’s expression hardens as your words sink in. “What do you mean ‘threatening’?” He leans closer. “You should’ve told me sooner. We can—”

“No!” You interrupt, a little too forcefully. The last thing you want is for him to feel responsible for protecting you. “I don’t want to drag you into this. You have enough on your plate already. I can handle it.”

“Handle it?” He looks alarmed. “You think I’m just going to sit here while some jerk of a god makes you feel unsafe? That’s not happening.”

You swallow hard, feeling his concern. “I appreciate it, Percy. I really do. But I don’t want you to worry. Just… just let me figure this out on my own.”

He stares at you, a mixture of determination and disbelief in his gaze. “You’re not alone, you know that? We’re in this together. Whatever this is, I’m here to help.”

“But what if it gets worse? What if he comes after you too?”

Percy reaches out, taking your hand in his. His touch is grounding, like the earth beneath your feet. “Then we face it together,” he says firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not now, not ever.”

A small part of you wants to believe him, but the fear still claws at the edges of your mind. “I just don’t want to put you in danger.”

He squeezes your hand tighter. “You’re worth it. And besides, I’ve faced worse. I fight things all the time. This is no different.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, but those were monsters. This is a god.”

“Which means we have to be smarter,” he counters, determined. “I’ll talk to Chiron. We’ll figure out a plan. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

You nod slowly, feeling a swell of gratitude mixed with the familiar fear. With Percy by your side, maybe, just maybe, you can face whatever this god…

“Okay,” you finally say, a little more strength in your voice. “Together.”

“Together,” he echoes.

You sigh heavily.

Percy watches you. "You know what?"

"What?" you frown at him.

"We're going for a swim," he decides.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Perce—"

"No arguing!" he cuts you off and jumps into the lake, clothes and all. "Come on."

You can’t help but laugh as Percy splashes into the lake, but of course, he stays dry. “You’re insane!” you call out, but a smile tugs at your lips.

“Maybe! But it’s good for you!” he replies, treading water and grinning. “Come on! You need to relax!”

You hesitate, the weight of your worries still heavy. But seeing him so carefree sparks a flicker of hope. With a determined breath, you kick off your shoes and wade in, laughter bubbling up as the cool water surrounds you.

Percy swims closer, mischief in his eyes. “See? Isn’t this better than worrying about gods?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, splashing him playfully. He retaliates, and soon you are both caught up in a water fight, the tension between you dissolving with every splash.

“Okay, okay!” you laugh, breathless. “You win! I feel better now.”

“Good!” he says, softening. “We’ll figure this out together. But first—”

He dives under, dragging you with him. You kick and twist, but he just laughs, holding you close.

“Come on, it’s not so bad!” he says.

As you glance around, bubbles swirl, and beams of sunlight dance through the surface. Schools of tiny fish dart by.

Percy lets go for a moment, and you both float mid-water. You gesture for him to follow you deeper, and he swims alongside, exploring this vibrant underwater world together.

“See? Much better than stressing out!” he says, grinning.

You nod, feeling alive in this moment. “This is amazing,” you reply.

He takes your hand, pulling you closer. “We’re in this together, remember?”

“Together,” you echo, and with that, you both dive deeper.

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 34- You ight ☕️

You heard the sound of footsteps on the sand coming from behind you. Turning around, you saw a figure wearing a black cap and sun glasses.

Taking off the glasses, you realized it was Scaramouche. You hadn’t seen him since that night at your studio.

He still had his piercing eyes that you loved so much and his deep indigo hair that fell perfectly into his symmetrical face. He kept on looking better and better every time you saw him.

“So are you going to stand there or what?” Scaramouche’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

You cleared your throat before replying, “Um yeah, let’s find somewhere to talk first. I know a spot.”

You began walking to the giant rocks that the ocean’s waves were hitting. It was far enough where people wouldn’t see the two of you. As you were walking, you weren’t saying anything to each other, making the tension in the air awkward.

He helped you climb onto a rock where the two of you are now sitting on.

Neither of you spoke up yet and there was still an awkwardness in the air. You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like neither did he. You both were just staring at the ocean.

You mustered up the courage to finally speak, “I’m really sorry for all the times I have gotten mad at you for tiny things and for always blocking you without telling you the reason why. I’ve never been good with expressing my emotions which always led to miscommunication. I know it’s definitely not the most healthy way to cope with things.” Your voice trailed off when you realized you started rambling.

However, there was still silence coming from his end so you decided to continue, “I guess I’ve always been a people pleaser and in turn I felt like I couldn’t express how I felt to the other person. I was afraid they might dislike me if I ever said no or set a type of boundary. That’s the reason why I would get mad and not tell you why. I liked you so much that I could never tell you. I thought that you would never want to date me even if the circumstances were different. I pretended to be fine with whatever situationship we had going on. I would act in ways to make you jealous just so I can see if you actually cared about me. It’s such a stupid thing to do and I know I should’ve done something about it sooner.”

Scaramouche continued staring at the ocean. He still didn’t say anything which started to cause you to worry.

Did he hate you? Was he mad? Does he think you’re dumb?

You started to regret to opening up your mouth too much and began overthinking.

He locked eyes with yours before finally responding, “I have always liked you Y/n. From the moment we started talking, not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought of you. I was in agony that I couldn’t be with you, I tried to forget about you. I tried forcing myself to hate you because I didn’t want to burden you. I always knew how much you cared for me but I tried burying my feelings for you aside.”

His confession took you by surprise. You hadn’t realized that all this time, this was the one thing eating him up inside.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he already beat you to it, “If I don’t say this last thing now, I’m not sure if I will be able to again. As I said before, I always liked you and I always will. When I first recognized this, I backed out and gave mixed signals. I told you this before but my mother abandoned me when I was young. To this day I have no idea why but I guess I’ll never get an answer. I put all my emotions towards her so when she left I closed it all off. I was worried that if I put my emotions towards someone again, they'll end up leaving me too. I tried pushing you away because I was scared of having someone care.”

You were left speechless. You weren’t sure on what to say and ended up pulling Scaramouche into a tight embrace instead. His head was in the crook of your neck as he hugged you back.

“I’m sorry for getting more people involved than there should’ve been. I’ll never leave you for anything. I’ll always stay by your side no matter what. I wish I hadn’t acted stupid,” You finally replied to him.

He broke apart from the hug and placed a hand on the side of your face, “Don’t feel sorry, I was the one who caused you to act the way you did. I promise I’ll be more reliable to you. I promise I won’t cause you to be in anymore pain.”

You had a full view of his high cheekbones and strong jawline. His full lips were curved into a sheepish smile. You would give up anything to have him continue to smile at you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his lips. They felt the same but this kiss was different from the last. It was slower but more relaxed and romantic. He snaked his hand on the curve of your back for additional leverage. You were praying to not get spotted this time.

This kiss was more addictive than a drug. Every time you wanted to stop, he would pull your face in to continue. You melted into one another perfectly, as if you were meant for each other. You weren’t bullshitting when you said that you’ll never leave and neither was he. Scaramouche was the forest and you were the fire that always set him ablaze.

The two of you finally broke apart and smiled at one another. You felt relieved that you were able to get this weight off your chest, you didn’t regret it one bit.

“Yeah you cool, you aight type shit,” You chuckled breaking the silence.

Scaramouche flicked your forehead while rolling his eyes, “Nothing is stopping me from pushing you into the ocean you know.”

“If you do I’ll drag you down with me,” You responded as you rested your head against his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around you. The both of you watched the sunset and the waves crashing onto the rocks down below.

Everything had now fallen into place.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: I was lowkey smiling when i was writing this 😭😭 The most romantic thing i haver ever experienced was making out in the rain but the guy ended up ghosting me the following week 😓

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @vxcmx @ariesloves @cayl33n @animeobsessed56 @heartsforni-ki @feikyuu @ichcocat @strayharmony943 @chscklvr @kunikissr @jiminscarmex @sp1ng @bananasquash @aceakariii @thegalaxyisunfolding @sartrst @cheriswag @kokomiskiss @albedomestic-airline @lxkeeeee @sundays-prince @wvvyq @amurotoorudesu @ennsposts @illu-fu @vitanye

[lacontroller1991]

Rumors (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: After you believed he was dead, it comes as a shock to you that he's alive and wrecking havoc.

Warnings: 18+, HEAVY LANGUAGE, drug usage, drinking, mention of cannibalism, violence, gun slinging, blood, nudity, fighting

Author's Note: I swear I'll work on my other requests but the Cooper Howard brain rot is REAL and its STRONG, anywho, first time so let me know how you guys like it :)

Word Count: 3k

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

In the wastelands of California, rumors get you killed and you’ve heard rumors. Whispers of his return. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Since he left you on your own in the middle of a gun fight to collect his bounty; and it nearly cost you your life. 

The last you’ve heard about him was that he was 6 feet deep and locked in a coffin with no way of escaping, unless someone purposely dug him out. Yet, you can’t think of a single person who would. Still, rumors spread like wildfire, and you’d be damned if you don’t try and get revenge.

-----------

The California sun beats down on your back. The heat weighs you down, but not as much as the pain in your chest. He let you believe that he cared about you. He really fooled you into a sense of partnership, romance, but you really should’ve known. Cooper Howard is a lone wolf, nothing and nobody will stand in his way. 

The site of Filly in the distance is a welcoming sight. If anyone has seen anything, it would have been here. It doesn’t take you long to cross the remaining distance, sweat dripping down your back as you enter the market. 

“Haven’t seen ya in a while (Y/N).” A local merchant snides with a creepy smile, showcasing his rotten teeth. Walking over to your side, he runs a hand down your arm and you resist the urge to gag. “What are ye in town for?” 

“Information.” You eye the stairs that are being fixed, along with other wooden structures, a signature sign that he’s been here.

“Looking for your Ghoul, huh?” His face is offly close to yours and it’s enough for you to draw your gun, casually pressing it into his side, causing him to instantly back off. “He was here two days ago. Got in a firefight with a knight, seemed like he was after a bounty.” You scoff. Of course he is. Anything for those damn vials. Vials. At the thought of vials a malicious smile forms on your face. Sooner or later, he will need to get more, and you’ll be there when he does. 

Holstering your gun, you flip him a bottle cap in appreciation before stalking off, heading to the one place you know he will be.

By the time the sun sets, you’re settled in an abandoned building, low enough to the ground where you can see what’s coming, but high enough to be out of any immediate danger. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you can’t help but to think about the times where you and him would be shoulder to shoulder, barely touching, but enough to make butterflies fly in your stomach.

Despite his ghoulish appearance, you find him to be quite handsome. His rugged cowboy exterior does barely enough to hide the last shred of humanity he has, and at times, it was directed towards you. With a sigh, you let your eyes shut, sleep easily consuming over you.

-----------

“Please, let me go.” A feminine voice stirs you from your unconsciousness as your eyes blink against the harsh light of the sun. “Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing you and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. You deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

Trying to listen to the conversation, you strain your ears but to no avail. Peeking over an abandoned car, you focus your eyes on the situation ahead of you, watching as he gestures for the girl to go through the sliding glass door. The minute they shut, he collapses on the ground and you resist the urge to go and help him. Sighing, you open the bag at your side, rummaging through a variety of equipment before your fingers run over the cool glass of the vials that keep him sane. “That’s just ironic,” you chuckle, looking back to him still laying on the ground, a slight tang of pity radiating through your chest. If there’s anything you hate about yourself, it’s that. You’re too soft for people who have no problem leaving you out to dry. 

You could confront him now, kick him while he’s down, but being dramatic is more fun. It’s useless trying to talk to him when he’s in that sorry state. 

An hour later and you’re still outside, covering from the sun and waiting for the right moment to make your appearance. The sight of the vaultie walking alone gathers your attention as you keep out of sight? Now how the hell did she manage to escape? You’re not an idiot, everyone and their mamas know that the SuperDuper Mart takes in bodies and harvests the organs, selling them to the highest bidder. So how on this God forsaken planet did she escape practically unscathed? As she walks further away you ponder the possibility that maybe you and everyone on the surface has really underestimated the ones who live below. 

Once she is out of sight, you rush out from your hiding spot and toward the mart, hoping to find him. “Well, he isn’t where I saw him last,” you huff out, drawing your gun from its holster as you walk through the glass door, keeping your eyes vigilant. With the mart being practically empty aside from overturned themed rides, it’s easy to hear a person stumbling around, knocking stuff over. 

By the time you spot him, his back is to you, head tipped slightly back as he downs a bottle of alcohol he found. The sound of you cocking your gun causes him to freeze in place, and if you were facing him, you would spot the smile on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” Your silence is deafening and you don’t move an inch, not really sure if you would actually shoot him or not.  “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna find me.”

“It’s pretty easy to find a drug addicted ghoul these days, especially ones that have a penchant for the dramatics.” You keep your gun trained on his back as he slowly turns around, dropping the glass bottle and letting it shatter to the floor. 

“Me? Dramatic? I don’t think I’m the dramatic one sweetheart. You’re the one who came in here, guns blazing. I think you’re the dramatic one.” He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until his chest is pressed right against the nozzle of your gun. “Now why don’t you put your gun down and give Coop a big ki-” your gun whacks across his face, tearing the flesh slightly only for it to heal right away, causing him to growl. His gloved hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, hoisting you against the wall while you struggle in his grasp. “That’s no way to greet me. Where are your manners?” He asks, his southern accent penetrating each word.

“Fucker,” raising a leg, you kick between his with all you can muster and spit on his face, the shock being enough to let you loose and allowing you to slip out. 

He looks at you for a second before laughing sadistically, using his thumb to collect your spit and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he was savoring it. “I missed you kitten.”

Scoffing, you holster your gun and take a seat on the couch, turning your attention to the tv where you spot a young, handsome, human Cooper Howard on the screen. “Really Coop? You’re that full of yourself?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he plops down next to you before taking another bottle and giving that a swig. “Was the only half decent shit in this hell hole,” at the mention of the place, you take a proper look around, bodies laying everywhere, some human, some ghoul, and even a robot.

“The fuck happened here?”

“Was traveling with a vault dweller, traded her for some vials but I guess she didn’t take too well to the idea of her organs being sold,” he comments nonchalantly, twisting off the cap of a vial and draining the liquid into his mouth while you look at him like he grew two heads. 

“You’re meaning to tell me that that vault dweller managed to do all this?”

“Did I stutter?” Now you know you really underestimated the people in the vaults. You honestly wonder if they’re all like this or is she just some random four leaf clover. “Why’d you come in here raisin hell anyway?”

Leaning back on the couch, you look forward to the tv, trying to concentrate on the handsome man on the screen instead of the one sitting next to you, “heard you were dead.”

“The details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Still doesn’t answer my question,” he looks at you with a look that says ‘I frankly don’t give a shit’ but something deep down inside of you tells you that he does. 

“I’m pissed as hell that you left me. I thought we were partners?” Rolling his eyes, he laps at a random white powder laying on the table before leaning back.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t see a need to stick around. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. Seemed like a fair trade.” 

A sigh escapes your mouth as you take the bottle from his one hand and downed it, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burns down your throat and lights a fire in your stomach. How can he be so naive? You had initially joined him when you were both after the same group of people, but for vastly different reasons. He had wanted the large bounty on the head of the leader and you wanted to find your past lover, but somewhere along the route to finding them you developed feelings for the Ghoul sitting next to you, and you thought he developed them too. You initially didn’t spot him when the shooting started, too occupied with the Ghoul pressing his back against yours, the two of you working in tandem. Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, you were the only one shooting back at the group of people, most of them lying dead and your companion nowhere to be seen. The bounty was also gone.

He had left you on your own and it hurt. It also didn’t help that once the shooting was over and you remained, you found your former lover in the arms of another. It’s true that you found who you wanted, but at what cost? Was it really your lover than you wanted or was it Cooper Howard, the Ghoul, who you wanted?

Realistically, you know the answer. It’s pretty obvious by the way that when you heard he was alive, you practically dropped everything in pursuit of him. Taking another swig of the alcohol you ponder over your next course of actions. Should you admit your feelings for him or should you leave it? Looking back at the tv, you watch the former Cooper Howard get down from his horse, gun in hand and hat tipped ever so slightly over his eyes, much like how the man next to you does. He’s never going to be the same man again, you know that, but maybe he still has the ability to love? “I love you, you know?”

Cooper looks over to you with a puzzled look on his face before it goes blank and your heart sinks. If there was any sort of superpower you could have right now, it would 100% be mind reading. “You’re stupid.” 

“Right. Yep. Totally.” You’re pissed. You took a gamble and lost. Laid your heart on the line only for it to be destroyed. Swallowing down your pride, you get up from your seat and holster your gun, taking a couple of vials for safe keeping. “Have a good life Coop.” You don’t bother turning back, tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he doesn’t return the feeling. You kick the dead body out of your way, too overwhelmed with your emotions to realize that he is calling your name. A hand wrapping around your wrist stirs you from your thoughts as he hand spins you around to face him, a soft look gracing his features.

“I ain’t finished,” it’s soft. Softer than anything you’ve ever heard from him but you yank your hand away, rebuilding the walls around your heart.

“I don’t wanna he-” he cuts you off with a rough kiss against your lips, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close as his scarred lips move against yours. The kiss is rough, demanding, but also loving, intimate. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Pulling away, he keeps you in his grasp as you look up at him through blown eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at. “Coop?”

“Shh darlin’. You didn’t let me finish. I said you’re stupid. Stupid for loving someone like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially you, you should know this.” You can tell by the restraint in his voice that he fully means what he’s telling you. Smiling softly, you dust off his duster and pull on his vest, straightening out his clothes as he watches you, not really sure what to make of your intentions. 

“Y’know, there was this one cowboy I met years ago and when I asked how he survived as long as he has and you know what he told me?”

“What’s that?”

“We take it as it comes.” He closes the bridge between the two of you with his mouth against yours, this time it’s more eager. Taking in your bottom lip, he bites hard enough to draw blood, causing you to gasp in surprise. Using that to his advantage, his tongue slips in, exploring every crevice of the mouth that he’s longed for.

“Well ain’t this sweet. We have a ghoul and a ghoulfucker. I wonder what that sex looks like,” you and Cooper pull away abruptly, you eye the three men in sheriff uniforms while Cooper scowls, annoyed by their presence. Moving towards them, Cooper raises his hands in false surrender while you get behind his back, one hand reaching for his shotgun and the other reaching for your own gun, ready to draw at any moment. 

“What can I do for you folks?” The three men eye each other before pointing their guns at Cooper, you still standing behind him, ready to take on each of them.

“Destroying a legitimate business? That’s illegal around these parts,” one speaks up, aviators covering his eyes as he moves around to get a better view of you. “My my, don’t tell me this pretty little thing did all this damage. Why don’t you raise your hands sweetheart, let’s see that gorgeous figure.” 

If looks could kill, that man would be 12 feet under and blasted to high heaven with the biggest nuke Cooper could find. “I’d be careful if I were you, she may be pretty, but she's also a pint sized atom bomb.” His head tilts, telling you all that you needed to know. Reaching for your gun, you quickly shoot the two companions as Cooper lunges for the man who dared to flirt with you. Kicking the gun away from reach, Cooper wraps his hand around the throat of the sheriff and hoists him in the air while you loot their supplies. Turning the men around, you cut their pants off, leaving their backside exposed for Cooper to take his fair share of ass jerky. The man in his grasp squirms at the site of his counterparts being exposed, but Cooper’s grip doesn’t falter.

“Why are you sick freaks doing this?” The man continues to struggle in Cooper’s grasp, hands trying to claw away at skin but to no avail as you load your gun, sliding over to the duo. 

“Wanna do the honors sweetheart?” It’s rare that Cooper offers anybody anything, let alone a kill and it takes you a minute to process his proposal.

“We do this for the love of the game.” A gunshot rings out while the man goes limp in Cooper’s hand, brains splattered on the floor below you. Dropping the man, Cooper’s eyes flit to your body, chest rising and falling as you come off the adrenaline high. 

“Now that was hot as hell sweetheart. You sure know how to make an impression on an old man.” 

“Is that right?”

“‘m afraid so.” His eyes watch as you begin to unbuckle your armor, letting it fall from your frame to the floor.

“Then come and get me cowboy.”

@reveluving