#sammy thighs

[ninoochat]

You're so sensitive

[motelsnleatherseats]

Dean hardly had a moment to reflect on what he did with his brother, because as soon as he had caved to Sam's advances, the kid was practically permanently attached at the hip. If he had been bad before, he was now a certified stage 5 clinger. What used to be two occupied beds was now just one, and Sam had all but forgotten what furniture was because Dean's lap was just that much more inviting.

The hardest part about it was keeping his little brother at arm's length when they were out in public. Sam didn't seem to care, but Dean was all too aware of the raised eyebrows it garnered them when Sam would get handsy. Dean would shoot him warning looks and have to firmly grip his wrist to stop his eager hands, but Sam appeared to take it as a challenge.

Dean climbed into the Impala and closed the door with a sigh, and not but two seconds later felt his little brother's hand on his thigh.

"Sammy," Dean spoke, once again putting a stop by finding the younger's wrist, gripping it lightly. "Look, I know you're.. eager and excited about what we're doing now, but you really gotta tone it down when we're out and about."

Sam's expression soured briefly, something between petulant and pouty.

"Why? No one knows we're brothers," he replied, and Dean exhaled something akin to frustration.

"I know, but I think it's pretty obvious. That's not even what I'm really worried about, you have to remember that you're only 15. It's gonna make me look like some kind of pervert freak into young boys." Plus he didn't want anyone thinking he was gay, not that there was anything wrong with being gay, he just wasn't. Was he? No, he didn't like men, never even thought of checking them out. Sam was the only exception. "Just.. cool it a little, yeah? For me?"

"Okay.."

Sam's reluctant agreeance had Dean feeling a pang of guilt, never truly finding it right to deny his brother anything, but if they wanted this to continue, they'd have to play it safe.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, and Sam had even put some distance between them, crowded closer to the passenger door with his gaze out the window like he was giving Dean the cold shoulder. Dean couldn't bring himself to say anything else, but worry was starting to build. He'd glance over at him in silent pleas to not be mad at him, each lingering moment inciting further culpability.

When they parked, Sam was the first to get out and head into the room, uncharacteristically leaving Dean to follow instead of waiting for him at the door. He was upset, that much was obvious, and the elder now had to wrack his brain to remedy this. This was all his fault, he should have known that crossing that line would only bring trouble. Sam would inevitably end up hurt by his words or actions, because why wouldn't he? Dean allowed him to believe that what they were doing was okay, and he knew deep down that it wasn't. It was illegal. It was immoral. It was selfish.

"Sammy," Dean spoke, his voice already apologetic as he closed the door behind him. Sam had placed himself on the bed he had abandoned in favor of sleeping with Dean, his back to him as he faced the wall. "C'mon, man. I was just saying we need to be careful, that's all." Nothing. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, debating on leaving it alone or trying to get something out of Sam. A notion of understanding, a validation that his concern was heard. But Sam was stubborn and Dean swore he made a valid point, so he heaved a defeated sigh and shouldered off his jacket, setting it over the back of a chair at the table in the kitchenette before he plopped himself on the couch and put on the television for something else to focus on.

A couple of hours must have passed before Sam had finally moved from his spot on the bed, standing now at the edge of the couch, still quiet. Dean glanced up when he caught him in his peripherals, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Still mad at me?" he asked, voice soft as his thighs fell apart some, a hand patting his lap in invitation. Sam accepted, moving to settle himself against his big brother, both legs draped over one side before Dean had cradled him like he was comforting a child.

"It just hurt my feelings," Sam admitted and Dean gave a nod of understanding. He could see why it might feel like some type of rejection, and that was the last thing he wanted Sam to feel.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean replied, leaning in to press a kiss to the other's forehead, one hand moving to caress along his side in a soothing manner, settling at his hip. "Can I make it up to you?" He offered, his gaze soft, searching over his little brother's fair features.

"How?" Sam took advantage of his brother's tenderness, arming himself with one of his patented puppy-dog looks, lips in the most tempting of pouts.

Dean lifted his hand up, smoothing his thumb over his cheek bone before his fingers had carded through his hair, cupping the side of his head to draw him in so their lips could meet for a kiss. Sam's hand came up to find respite on the side of Dean's neck, his eyes fluttering shut as they indulged in the warmth and sweetness of each other's mouths. It was hard for Dean to consider any of this as wrong when it felt this good to give Sammy something that no one else could. No one else understood just how delicate his little brother, how much care he truly needed to keep him from ripping apart at the seams.

Dean blindly reached for the television remote and managed to change the channel before finding the power button and turning it off, leaving the only sound in the room the wet sounds of their kiss as they deepened it, Sammy's sweet mewls being muffled against his lips. He angled them so he could lie Sam down against the couch and press his weight into him, his brother's arms coming up and around his neck while his own moved down his slender form, gliding up and under his shirt to follow the bumps of ribs, fingertips pressing possessively into the skin. Sam moaned and Dean drank it down like a sweet nectar, pulling back from the kiss with a low hum of appreciation before he relocated his mouth to younger's throat.

"Dean," Sam sighed, his kiss-swollen lips parted to let out heavier breaths and needy sounds, one hand in Dean's hair at the nape of his neck while the other pulled at the material of the back of his shirt.

"Wanna make you feel good, Sammy," Dean rumbled against his brother's neck, open-mouthed and heated kisses being laid with gentle scrapes of teeth. His hands pushed his shirt up enough to expose the flesh of his abdomen and chest before they found their way to Sam's pants, undoing the button and loosening the material so it could easily slip down his hips. He lifted his head, emerald gaze meeting this brother's darkened one before he guided the hem of his shirt to his lips, Sam's teeth catching it to hold it in place before Dean's lips had descended on him again.

He trailed a warm and wet path down his chest and stomach before he nipped at his hip bone while he worked his little brother's pants down and off.

"You too," Sam murmured as he released his hold on his shirt, wanting equal access to Dean's form.

"I will, baby, don't worry. Gotta take care of you first," Dean promised, positioning himself lower and between his thighs after guiding them apart. Sam's breath hitched as Dean's mouth graced the inside of his thigh, kissing the warm, sensitive flesh as he inched closer to his baby brother's hole. He had eaten pussy plenty of times before, this couldn't be much different, and he was eager to see just want kind of noises he could draw out of the younger.

His hands splayed against his thighs, pushing them open and back some for better access before he gazed at his pretty little hairless pucker, already clenched in anticipation. The first caress was given, and much to Dean's delight, Sam's whole body reacted with a shudder and a whine that made his own cock throb. He laid his tongue flat over the pink flesh, coating it in saliva with slow and languid motions, getting him good and wet before applying previously learned techniques. He circled the tight ring of muscles, slurping tenderly and enclosing his lips around the flesh, feeling Sam's thighs tremble as he continued his efforts, those hushed and needy sounds like music to his ears.

"De-dean.. oh fuck, please.." Sam pleaded, for what exactly, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he couldn't get enough of the wet sensation between his thighs, making his insides squirm with lust. His cock laid hard against his abdomen and he moved one hand down to stroke himself, the head already stick with pre-cum as Dean continued to eat him out. The wet sounds grew louder as the saliva built up, and Dean was quick to gather and swallow before he pushed his slick muscle into the boy's hole, earning himself a long-drawn out whine as Sam pushed his hips into the sensation.

Dean found Sam's unique taste to be pleasant, and the clenching around his tongue only made him wonder exactly what it would feel like to be buried in his little brother's tight heat, but that would have to be something he only fantasized about for the time being. Though they had crossed that physical and intimate boundary with abandon, doing the actual deed felt too heavy for him, at least for now. There was something too permanent about that action, something too precious to take from Sam just yet if he ever decided to change his mind.

As he tongue fucked his hole, Dean moved one of his hands down to undo his own pants, freeing his cock from the tight confines, throbbing now as he palmed himself while getting Sammy off. It didn't take much longer before Sam was a writhing, moaning mess under Dean's ministrations, hardly needing to touch himself to achieve orgasm, the slick muscle licking him open getting him there quicker than expected. He came with a cry of his brother's name, his own seed painting his abdomen, even shooting up his chest and the bunched up shirt at his collar bones.

Dean slowly removed his tongue from Sam's quivering hole, watching it clench around nothing, slick with saliva. He admired his handy work before he slid his hands along the backs of his thighs again.

"You're so pretty when you cum, Sammy," Dean praised, voice low and lusty as he looked at the blissed out mess his little brother was, panting and trembling. He straightened himself up to his knees, pulling his shirt off and shove his pants down his thighs to be exposed enough for his next move. He gathered Sam's thighs and brought his legs up his chest, pressing them together before he rutted his cock against the smooth skin.

"Dean, please," another soft begging. "Fuck me? I need you so bad," Sam whined, thinking the position he was being put in was so Dean could finally claim him from the inside.

"Not yet, baby, we'll get there," he replied, easing his hips back before he pushed forward, letting his hot and heavy arousal push between Sammy's thighs. Sam gave another whine, though this one was due to frustration, hoping Dean would just cave. But as he watched, he could see the head of his brother's cock thrusting between tightly pressed skin, the sight making his skin flush with heat. It was so erotic, so dirty in the best way.

Dean fucked Sam's thighs, grunts and groans falling from his lips as he kept his gaze locked on his brother's features, watching them as his form bounced a little from the force he was using to get himself off with Sam's body. He could imagine that they were fucking, the way he was laid out for him like that, his features screwed up in lustful pleasure, his tummy and chest painted with cum, the sound of skin smacking against skin pairing deliciously with their moans... it was almost like the real thing.

"Fuck, Dean.. wish you were in me.. don't you want to breed your little brother?" Sam pushed, hoping any of Dean's resolve would eventually fade and he'd give in like he wanted him to. It worked against him though, because Dean's cock gave a painful throb at his choice of words. How did Sammy know exactly what to say to drive him wild? What 15 year old talks about breeding or uses little brother as dirty talk?

"Sammy, god," he groaned, and a few more thrust of hips had him giving a choked sound before he came hard, making a hot, sticky mess between his thighs, his seed painting over his stomach as well. He gave a few follow up thrusts, making sure his balls were thoroughly emptied before he felt himself soften some, slipping free of the hold of Sam's thighs with a quiet hiss. He let Sam's legs fall back, his own form leaning down and over his little brother, taking a moment to catch his breath before he cupped his face again, drawing his thumb over his bottom lip that was gifted with a kiss afterward.

"Where did you learn to talk like that?" Dean asked, genuinely curious, but also always surprised by Sam's antics. The once bookish, almost shy teen he knew suddenly a master of seduction. Sam's cheeks warmed, his gaze averting for a moment.

"Porn," Sam admitted, a coy smile on his lips as he met Dean's gaze again, and Dean gave an incredulous chuckle, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I've never once seen you even look at a skin mag, what kind of porn are you watching?" Sam groaned in an embarrassed fashion, pushing playfully at Dean's shoulder before he decided against that action, instead gripping him there and tugging him down so he could feel the weight against him.

"I stumbled across the whole fake step-sibling thing.. couldn't stop thinking of you," he replied, his eyes looking expectantly at Dean, wondering if he'd be judged for it. But Dean only looked at him in amazement, a wry smile on his lips.

"You little pervert," he teased and Sam groaned again.

"Says you, who just ate me out and fucked my thighs."

"Touché."

Dean leaned more of his weight against Sammy, leaning in to kiss his lips, glad that after their little tiff earlier that day that he had earned Sam's good graces once more.

"Dean," Sam murmured against his lips, arms curling around his neck. "Thank you."

↳ part 1

[ppjeterka]

well yes i did enjoy the newest hit the boards episode, what gave you that impression?

[totentnz]

saw a thing AGES ago where a couple got like... parodies (?) of one of the other's tattos and im definitely doing it for johnny and v

v is getting the snake tattoo he has on his hand but make it like a gummy worm or even a worm on a string or something

i dont 100% know what johnny is getting but i feel like he would chose to make fun of the stars on her knees (he understands the meaning but it's a little... edgy? perhaps? like she's taking herself a bit too seriously) i dont know what exactly his version of it would look like but maybe like.... a starfish that isnt even centered on the knee or something

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

....

Ahem...

Uh. Nice very nice

[swan2swan]

sleepy again

sleepy

[ascendingtostardust]

Let’s discuss…

[mariswxts]

libidinal

If Dean could curse every witch on this planet for dosing you and him with an aphrodisiac after ganking them, he would. His entire body was on fire— burning, and his mind was embarrassingly stuck on you. You, your thighs, lips, your ass. It all rattled about in his head like a broken record, and he craved you, craved the relief like crazy.

He knew that you were feeling the same things he was right now, the ache, burn, relentless want that you just couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. Ugh, you needed him. Like you’d die if you didn’t have him. Dean felt the same damn way — trust him — like one touch and he’d break the damn best friend code of conduct.

You’d think both of you would have more control of yourselves, considering how you were both hunters who’d faced stuff like vampires and shit. "This is gettin’ on my nerves, sweetheart," he scoffed, eyes fluttering up and down you. You were too hot for this world— and that wasn’t just the pollen talking, but his drugged up mind couldn’t stop.

"Fuck this." he slowly took off his sweat-soaked shirt, looking for signs that you’d jump him. Dean rubbed the sweat off his chest, having no damn right to look that jacked and edible right now, ugh. He can't take all of this crap, including being quarantined in this damn motel room by Sam. It’s for a reason, though.

He groaned, aching, desperate, gesturing for you to keep away so he could resist this damned pollen’s effects. "Oh, m’ gonna kill Sammy if he doesn’t find a cure for this stat." Dean covered his ears, yeah, no. He acted as if covering his ears and blocking out all noise would stop the ache for you, well, it sure didn’t.

Pacing back and forth, he took one look at you— nope, look away, you looked too hot, nope. "Yeah, I’ll kill him." He winced when he got a very R-rated image in his head— he was desperate for you, you, for some relief, mainly sex.

He felt like every second without his hands on your ass was torture— he hoped he wouldn’t go to hell.

“Oh, I’m fine.” You breathed, sarcastic, giving him a look with raised eyebrows. “Just — you know — feeling like my body’s burning alive, I’m sweatin’, my brain hurts.” Your eyes were hungrily searching his bare chest, biting your lip— no, stop, even if you felt on fire and were sweating buckets.

“You’re clearly not,” he retorted. He would’ve found it funny that you were checking him out, but the need was so overwhelming, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from throwing you onto the nearest surface.

“So… no need to be sarcastic. M’ just trying to control myself.” He muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and keeping the distance between you. “Can’t say the same for you though, sweetheart, ‘cause I can see ya gawkin’.”

“Yeah, just quit it, you look like a five star buffet. A girl can’t help herself when she’s drugged up on an aphrodisiac.” You groaned, dabbing your sweaty-ass neck with a towel, not able to help the way your eyes hungrily drank in his chest. “I’m makin’ do with the view I’ve got while my pussy’s yellin’ at me right now.”

“Christ, darlin’.” He muttered. He felt all fuzzy inside when you said that, he hated how hungry the damn pollen made him for you, for your body. Dean’s eyes darkened, taking in the way you kept looking at him, how you were yearning for him like he was with you. His fingers gripped on the chair he was sitting on, and he leaned forward— he needed to stay on the damn chair.

“And what kinda things is it tellin’ you, hm?” He asked, voice lowering, growling almost. His cock was telling him to go over there, moan in your ear as he thrusted into you, that’s what— but he had to deny himself of such luxurious pleasures. How great.

“To throw away all sense of modern feminism and let you fuck me hard on the floor.” You breathed, moaning softly at getting the words out. “Or letting you bend me over the table. Eat me out on the bed, take me from behind on said bed.” Another desperate moan.

Shit.

Dean almost groaned out loud, damn you. You were going to be the death of him. He was so damn hard right now, and he gripped even tighter on the chair, he would break it if he wasn’t careful.

“Sweet girl, I know you’re not talkin' about feminism when you got your hungry eyes all over me right damn now.” He bit out, clenching his jaw. Dean couldn’t help the fantasies that were running through his mind, especially when you let those moans out.

“I know.” You murmured, nodding, levelling the playing field and taking your shirt off too, leaning back against the bed’s headboard. Shit. Your skin that glistened with sweat, glowing more in the shitty motel light, tits now on display for his hungry-ass eyes. Your head tipped back, eyebrows pinched together tight, lips parted ever so slightly. Shit.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, eyes drinking in that perfect body of yours like a man who hadn’t had a drop of water in years. He’d seen you in a bikini before and almost lost it, but this view, this view was a sight for sore eyes. One that he was now staring at shamelessly.

His mouth hung agape as his eyes traveled from your chest to your face, he was desperate — all for you. “What’re you gettin’ at?” He asked, voice low and ragged.

“That I’m hot too. A woman can exist with her shirt off.” You scoffed, thighs rubbing together for any friction. C’mon, fuck, you got nothing— guess Dean’s cock was the answer, but not fucking your friend was the first cardinal rule of maintaining a best-friendship. “Oh, I’m gonna kill those witches even if they’re in the afterlife. I—” You let out a small whimper of frustration, the ache building. “God damn.”

“Damn right you’re hot, sweetheart.” he muttered, eyes locked to your thighs, practically drooling— maybe he wasn’t talking about the heat both of you were burning under. Dean’s tongue darted out and wet his dry lips, watching you as you rubbed your thighs against one another for friction. Damn it, it should be him being that friction, if that even made sense— he didn’t know, his brain was sludge. “I know, baby girl, m’ feelin’ what you are, I get it.”

He wanted to reach out and touch you so bad, but he had to get a grip. Sam could come back with a cure— maybe. Could he wait that long? Probably not.

You, however, simply did not have the patience nor the fucks to deal with Sam and his annoying lateness— you needed your best friend, he needed you, you had two holes he could put his dick into — you weren’t doing ass stuff on the first fuck — so it’s a win-win. “Dean, fuck this cure.” You whined, breath hitching as you yanked your sweats down, panties going with, pussy leaking and aching and so very empty. “Can’t wait, I can’t— c’mere. Fuck me, c’mere.”

Ok— yeah— yes, ma’am.

The sight had his eyes getting dark, nearly feral as he quickly stood up from his chair. The chair fell backwards and made a loud thud against the floor, but he couldn’t care less— not when you looked so damn delectable on the bed in front of him. Dean took quick steps towards you, practically ripping off the rest of his shirt.

He kneeled on the bed in front of you, practically pinning you to the bed. He couldn’t help himself. “M’ here, I’m here. Tell me what you want.” He huffed out, hips already bucking against the bed, moaning at the friction as he kissed over your bare tits and up your neck, licking up your neck, sweat on his tongue— yes, it’s disgusting, but he’d ponder on that in retrospect, right now he felt like an animal.

You guided his hand between your legs then kissed him, hotly, hungry, your lips devouring his, hand on the back of his head keeping him there. It was like a dam had broken, your breath harsh and heavy against his lips.

He grunted into the kiss, eyes slipping shut against the onslaught of your lips against his. His hand easily found its way down to you, the second you pushed him where you wanted him. God, his hand ached to be between your thighs.

“M’ here,” he breathed in between hot kisses. “M’ here, sweetheart, I gotcha.” The words were muffled, breathless, as he pushed your thighs apart, finding your wetness, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. God, he was starved for you, as you were for him, it felt frantic, hazy, like relief that he was finally touching your skin that would go away instantly, as it wasn’t enough. Your scent had his eyes actually rolling back for a second, a pant and a whine leaving his mouth in quick succession as his free hand pushed sweaty hair out of your face, his own spiky from your hand running through it.

He ground his cock against the bed, feeling himself leaking — as were you — and these touches alone honestly had him feeling like he could embarrass himself right here, and come in his pants like a teenager before even getting the chance to fuck you properly.

You nodded against his lips, practically gone and inattentive to anything but him, leaning more of your body weight back against the headboard and pulling — yanking — him with you, panting, desperate. “Need you, baby, please.”

Oh, he needed you too, baby girl.

“Need you too, gorgeous.” he panted, letting you push him around between your legs and wiping sweat off his forehead briefly, wiping that hand on the sheets— shit, that left a pretty dark mark. He bit down on your bottom lip, groaning into the kiss. God, you looked so pretty, so needy and desperate, and you were all for him. He needed to mark you in some way, make you his in every possible way. He needed to.

“You need me inside this pretty pussy, baby?” He asked, his hand already gliding over your slickness, his eyes locked on yours. His fingers pushed inside you, a moan leaving both your mouths as he felt the lack of resistance on your cunt’s part, and how it sucked his fingers in — fuck, you were tight — and he worked your bra off so he could suck and flick his tongue against your nipples one at a time, moaning against the softness of your tits— mmh, that felt so good.

You nodded frantically, cause fuck yeah, moaning, lips still pressed to his as the pressure had you whimpering in relief. “Yes— yes, baby, d-don’t you stop, ok? God, feels so good.”

“I won’t, wasn’t plannin’ on it, baby doll.” he grumbled against your lips. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon, not when you felt this good around his fingers, when you sounded so damn pretty.

“Christ, I need you.” His words were nearly a whisper as he pushed down his jeans and boxers. He was so hard, so desperate for you, that he couldn’t hold back anymore. “You ready, baby?” Well, he certainly was, let’s put it that way. He’d been grinding on the bed the whole time he was on top of you.

“So ready.” You nodded, kissing him desperately, hotly again, panting, whimpering, the works. God, you felt like you were on fire, like it wouldn’t stop until you had him— it felt almost primal. Why wouldn’t you be ready, though? You weren’t a woman if you didn’t get soaked for Dean Winchester.

“M’ gonna take care of you, baby girl, I will.” He muttered against your lips, taking deep breaths. The words came out in a near growl and a grunt, he was hungry for you, starved, so he’d let you kiss him breathless, and he’d kiss you back just as fiercely as you.

He needed to give you the relief you needed, the pleasure, the release. He still rubbed at your pussy, all while he continued kissing you, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

You moaned against his lips, nails raking down his back, leg hooking over his hip— fuck the cure, fuck Sammy (though the poor guy deserves more credit), you just needed this right now, you felt like you could explode. Spontaneously combust. Lit match to gasoline. “God, don’t wait.”

“I won’t wait. Not anymore.” He grunted as he felt your nails dig into his skin, and your legs wrapped around him. He was so desperate to be inside you, and the sight of you just beneath him, the sounds coming out of your mouth, they just made him throb.

“I got you, I’m gonna take care of you baby doll, m’ gonna take care of you real good.��� He panted against your neck, biting down on the skin as he slid into you, his mouth dropping open at the pure relief.

Your head fell back, a long, drawn moan leaving your mouth— you swore it felt like a cooling balm had been slapped on your bodies, or ice cold water. It just felt like a splash of pure relief, and you couldn’t stop chasing it, it felt like euphoria. “Shitfuck.”

“Oh, god,” he groaned, groaned, eyes squeezed shut. He hadn’t felt relief like this in so long, and your moans were like a damn symphony to his ears. He nearly felt like he was in heaven, that you were an angel.

“You’re so perfect — perfect.” He panted against your skin, placing kisses against your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder, as he found a pace. “Feels so good, darlin’, good girl.” It took all the effort in the world for him to not just lose himself and start pounding into you, just to say.

Good girl? You could’ve come right there. Squirted, even.

But no. Your leg hitched higher on his hip, clutching at his shoulder and at the headboard, your forehead pinched, eyes closed as you just felt it, couldn’t stop feeling, desperately letting shameless moans slip past your lips— as if you could control those.

“Yeah, that’s it — give it to me, baby.” he panted, his eyes taking in the sight of you, how you were falling apart. “Take it, take it all, just let me do all the work, yeah, good girl.” One of his hands trailed down your body, to the back of your thigh, holding it up, using it as leverage to push into you.

He wouldn’t last long, he couldn’t. Not with the sounds coming out of your mouth, the way you looked. “You’re so damn pretty when you give it up, baby.”

“Dean,” You couldn’t help but moan, over and over, paired with the occasional shameless “yes”, eventually bringing him in for a hungry, sloppy kiss, feeling the pendant on his necklace cool against your skin.

“Ah—” he groaned against your lips, his kisses almost violent, more teeth than tongue than anything else. God, his name on your pretty lips was sinful, but he wanted to hear it again and again.

His hands continued to touch you everywhere they could, not missing a curve or angle, and just taking in the pure ecstasy of it all. “You look so perfect like this — all for me.” he panted against you, the coolness of the amulet was almost refreshing against his over-heated skin, he’ll had to admit, and seeing it between your tits? God, another bonus.

Ooh, an idea. You used your leg hooked around his waist, plus some hunter training, rolling you both over, immediately gripping the shitty-ass fabric and plush of the pillow so you could begin to move up and down, hitting that angle without missing a beat. “Sh—Shit.”

Oh, oh wow, he had to take a few deep breaths. He didn’t expect you to suddenly roll the two of you over but he certainly wasn’t complaining. You looked so damn perfect on top of him, like a goddamn dream. He gripped onto your hips, helping you move, a moan leaving his lips as you kept up the pace.

“That’s it baby doll, good girl—“ he couldn’t help but babble. “Can’t keep my hands off you.” He panted, staring up at you. “Doing all the work, look at you— I ain’t gonna last, sweetheart, please tell me you’re almost there.”

“M’ almost there.” The sentence came out as a moan, seeing him in his glory, amulet on his chest, all ridges of muscle and soft skin, your other hand gripping the headboard as you moved, assisted by his hands on your hips, calloused pads of his fingers pressing into your skin. “P—Please, baby, a—almost there, so, so close—”

“Just— just come with me, please— please—” He panted, his hands gripping your hips so tight, he knew that he’d leave marks, but he’d deal with it later. Right at that moment, he was just lost in the feeling.

“Come on, give it to me, baby, I wanna see it, wanna feel it.” He was desperate, but a gentleman, he wanted you to reach it first. You were absolutely too gorgeous for words, and he was nearly going feral— his mouth went dry. “Good girl, good girl, good girl, c’mon — oh, c’mon—”

The coil in your stomach snapped as you came, pure, unbridled euphoria and uninhibited ecstasy, your eyes rolling back, hips stuttering and pressing into his hands as your thighs shook, but you kept on to get him there. “O-Oh, baby, c-c’mon, Dean, please— please—”

Sweet mother of god.

Your voice, your movements, your face, it all just pushed him over that final edge, and a loud moan tore out of his throat as he rode it out. “God, baby doll, god—” was all he could manage.

He didn’t even realise his eyes fluttered shut. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling, the amulet resting gently between his pectorals. “Oh god, baby girl, c’mere— come here.” He muttered, hands gripping your hips, pulling you down. He just wanted to feel you against him— wait, what? The burn wasn’t going, it just wasn’t.

“Dean.” You whined, letting out a frustrated moan. “S’wasn’t enough, I can still feel it. Still feel it, baby.” You panted, keeping yourself up. Well, of course this thing wasn’t a one-and-done. You already broke all the cardinal rules of friendship without compunction, but now you had to do it again? Wow. Great going.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He breathed, eyes opening, and looking up at you, the corners of his lips slightly turned up. He could feel it too, it was like something was missing, and he didn’t know what it was.

He pulled you down, and held you against his chest as he caught his breath. One of his hands moved to the side of your face, and he gently guided you into a soft kiss, the other hand moving down and squeezing your ass. “God, I need you so goddamn much.”

“Mhmm. Need you too.” You whined, your kisses becoming more insistent, needier— ok, don’t blame you, it seems to affect women more. “Can you— need you t’ take over, Dean.”

A small smirk appeared on his lips as you began to become more needy. “Don’t mind if I do, sweetheart.” He growled against your lips. He pushed you off of him, and rolled the two of you over, so you were now beneath him again, and his body was above yours.

“You want me to take over, huh?” He questioned, his lips moving to your neck, leaving nips and open-mouthed kisses over the skin. “You want me to take care of you?” His hips started snapping against you, a groan leaving his lips, cause oh, Jesus.

Woah, ok, you could get used to this. Especially with how you moaned, nodding desperately, leaving red marks on his shoulders and arms, his amulet touching the valley of your now bouncing tits with every thrust again, head tipping back as his cock brushed your cervix, hearing his grunts and pants in your ear mixed with your moans.

He couldn’t help the smirk that stayed on his lips as you clawed at his skin. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You like it when I take care of you?” He questioned, his mouth against your neck, his hips snapping against you, desperate to hear the pretty sounds leaving your lips.

“Tell me how much you like it, baby girl, go on.” His words were punctuated by a sharp bite to your shoulder, the other hand gripping your hip.

“Love it, Dean, fuck.” You gasped, your eyes rolling back, the knot in your stomach coming faster this time, scratching at his hips, the hot-ass dip in his back— anything you could reach, really, you weren’t picky.

“That’s it baby girl, there you go—“ he panted, his hips thrusting against yours, just pushing you closer and closer, his mouth against your skin still, leaving open-mouthed kisses and harsh bites.

The sounds you were making were just pushing him closer and closer, he was just desperate for you, and he couldn’t control the words that blurted out of his mouth. “God, you look so damn perfect baby, so damn pretty, so much better than I ever dreamed—“ Sure, he just revealed that he’d thought about this, but he still put your legs over his shoulders, leaning forward, splitting you in half and thrusting into you.

The new angle made your mouth fall open in a perfect ‘o’, and the feeling just overwhelmed your brain, made your body go positively wild, and you could swear some drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth. “D-Dean—”

Christ, he’s never seen anything so pretty.

He groaned as he took in the sight of you, your legs over his shoulders. “You like that, huh? You like it when I—“ his words were cut off with a strangled moan, you were just so perfect, he was never going to be able to get enough.

He managed to make a few more noises, some of them resembling your name, before he just dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Baby— baby, need to come again in you, can I?“

You made a noise that sounded like a moaned yes, and you’d never known that being split in half by a guy would ever feel this good, your hands braced on the underside of your thighs. Well, that was a confirmation.

He groaned as he felt you nod against his shoulder, words being lost on him after that. That was a yes, a good, proper yes. He didn’t even know what he was saying, all that he knew was that he needed to give you it. So he just gave it to you hard, and fast, not letting up an inch. “Good girl, good girl, you’re doing so good, taking it so well, baby doll—” all the while, he panted against your skin.

He groaned against your skin, his mouth pressed to your shoulder. Hearing that, feeling you around him, he was done for, he was gone— “Yeah, baby, oh, you’re so good, so good, feels so damn good, I’m coming baby, I’m gonna—“

He let out a strangled moan, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode it out, burying his face into the crook of your neck, panting, grunting, smoothing your hair back as he spilled into you with a low moan.

You stroked his hair, helping him come down from it, feeling tired out— I mean, at least the pollen’s fucked out, right? Just… you hated witches now. You get Dean’s point— you didn’t before, but now you do.

He let out a weary groan, breathing still laboured and his skin was still flushed. When he came to and registered that you were stroking his hair, he let his head fall onto your chest, his head against your tits. Mm, like a pillow, feels s’nice.

“God, that was intense.” He whispered against your skin. “You okay, sweetheart?” He was spent, absolutely boneless and limp, and just content to lay there and bask in the aftermath of what you’d just done.

“Better than before.” You breathed, nodding, rubbing your cheek. “S’ not as sore as I thought it’d be, if I’m bein’ honest. But now I get why you hate witches.”

He let out a chuckle, which just sounds more like a quiet scoff, and he lifted his head up to look at you, a slight smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah? You get it now, huh?” His head returned to its original position after a few moments, and he nuzzled against you, an arm wrapping around your waist. “Not sore, huh? I didn’t go too hard on ya, did I?”

“No, but, uh…” You grinned cheekily. “Being carried to the bath would be much appreciated.” Oh, the little shit.

Of course.

He lifted his head to look at you, an entertained and amused look on his face. “Oh, you’re gonna be real cute, aren’t you?” He questioned, and then in a quick movement, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you against his chest.

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

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@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

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@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

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@cheynovak

special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts

@deansbite

[starmocha]

Elysium [Sylus/Reader ★ 16K words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Beneath the azure sky and across the luscious green grassland, a love story unfolds. A/N: AO3 user InsomniacForevermore planted an itsy bitsy seed in my head, and…it grew...out of control, actually… 👁👄👁 My Grassland!Sylus Childhood friends/Arranged Marriage/Soulmates AU is finally here and I only had to sacrifice four nights of sleep for it. 🥹 (btw, not necessary, but…listen to DJ Sammy’s Heaven – Candlelight Mix while reading...or post-reading, whichever)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

elysium — n. a place or state of ideal happiness

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The warriors are home!

You first heard the excited cries while tending to your flock of sheep on the grassland. All around you and from far away, people were already abandoning their tasks and chores to rush to the village entrance to greet and welcome the returning warriors.

“Sylus is also back!” one of the young maidens cried with delight.

Your heart paused at hearing his name, your breathing coming out uneven. Instinctively, you also rose to your feet. You left behind your flock to idly graze as your feet took off running at a breakneck speed back to the village. When you had arrived, a large, dense crowd had already formed at the square. The elders and the chief—your father—were praising the warriors’ heroic victories against opposing tribes, but among those who was lavished with the most praises was Sylus. His build larger than the other men and his intimidating height towering above others. Even from the back of the crowd, you could see him clearly.

Your heart quickened, seeing his sharp eyes surveyed the large crowd, going from face to face. The moment his eyes locked in on your petite form, his cold expression broke, the intimidating glare softened completely as he pushed through the crowd and rushed to you. In just seconds, he had gathered you into his arms, lifting you high above the crowd.

Laughter and cheers broke out at the sight of Sylus holding you up high, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs. You steadied your balance, hands resting on his shoulders, gasping and laughing, “Welcome home!”

He smiled back lovingly and murmured for your ears only, “I’m home.”

“Today, let us feast and praise our young men for the glory they have brought upon our tribe!” the chief declared, his words met by loud cheers and thunderous applauses all around.

You were helping bringing the food to the banquet when you felt a strong grip on your arm, tugging you gently back. You steadied the basket of flatbreads you carried and looked up, meeting Sylus’ gaze. He smiled at you mischievously.

“Let the other girls handle this,” he said, tossing a look to the other young women behind you giggling and smiling with envy. “Come with me.”

You couldn’t get a word out as one of the girls came over and took your basket from you, all of them laughing and prodding you to leave with Sylus, much to your embarrassment.

“Go on, we know how much you have been missing him,” one of the girls said, batting her eyelashes teasingly at you.

“It’s a wonder our sheep didn’t get stolen away by wild beasts while its shepherd was so lovesick,” another teased as she exaggeratedly patted her heart rhythmically.

“Was she now?” Sylus asked, amused. He gave you a knowing glance and you glared right back at him.

“Oh, hush, all of you.” You rolled your eyes at your so-called friends before grabbing Sylus’ hand and dragging him away, your ears burning as you could still hear the laughter and cheering.

You paused in your steps once you both were out of sight. You looked up at Sylus, feeling sheepish now. “Um…Actually, I don’t know where we are going…”

He laughed and shook his head. “I was wondering where you were dragging me off to.” He leaned down and pinched your cheek, his grin widening. “The chief’s daughter still gets so easily flustered when others talk about her betrothed, hmm?”

“Sylus, quit it!” You rubbed at your sore cheek with a pout.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I have missed seeing you and hearing your voice these last few months.”

Your arms slowly encircled around his waist. You looked up with a bashful smile. “So…you felt the same?”

“Do you doubt me, my beloved?”

He leaned down and kissed your lips. It felt just as sweet and tender as you remembered when he last kissed you goodbye months ago. He parted, but his gaze remained on you, searching—beseeching.

“I would never,” you responded, standing on your toes and stealing another kiss from him, much to both his surprise and delight.

“Come,” he said, breaking away and smirking at your disappointed pout. “I have the horses ready.”

“The horses?”

“We have much to catch up on, my beloved,” he said, taking your hand in his, “And I do not wish for prying ears to listen in on our conversations.”

You rode upon your chestnut-colored mare while Sylus rode his stallion, its black coat sheening in the sunlight on the grassland. The horses walked leisurely across the plane side-by-side as their owners idly conversed. You excitedly rambled on and on about the most mundane events that had happened in his absence, only becoming acutely aware of his silence when you caught sight of his smirk.

“…I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

He shook his head in disagreement. “I have missed your voice,” he answered, “Won’t you tell me more?”

You felt embarrassed by how much you were talking, and even more so when you realized he was listening and watching you with such rapt attention. You shook your head fervently. “No, it’s your turn to talk.”

“It won’t be nearly as entertaining as your story of the goat herder getting drunk and falling asleep in the goat pen while his goats took over his home.”

You rolled your eyes. “I will not be swayed by such weak flattery.”

“Then shall I serenade to you instead, my beloved?”

You covered your ears. “These mortal ears are not worthy of such…unearthly…singing.”

He huffed. “My men have enjoyed my singing these past few months,” he responded proudly, “Surely, my future bride would as well.”

“They’ve truly earned their feast tonight then,” you murmured more to yourself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing—” You paused, your playfulness disappearing instantly the moment you caught sight of several small colorful pouches in the saddlebag on Sylus’ horse, items meant to proclaim affections for the receiver of them. You didn’t even think before blurting out, “Who gave you those pouches?”

You silently cursed the moment you realized what you had asked. You tried to look away nonchalant, missing the smirk rising on Sylus’ face.

“Jealous?”

“No…” You nudged your horse, urging her to walk faster.

Sylus did the same with his horse, matching your pace. “These were welcome home presents.”

“Were they?” Even though you tried to maintain a façade of indifference, you felt your skin crawling at the thought. Against your better judgment, your mind was already racing through the names and faces of all the village girls that could have gifted him those pouches. You played out possible scenarios of how the events could have transpired. You pictured those girls giggling and blushing as they handed him their homemade pouches that they had spent so much time on for him.

You pictured him—smiling. At those girls. Smiling, as he received their gifts. Smiling, as his hand might accidentally brushed against theirs. Smiling…

At others.

Sylus called your name, and you found yourself breaking out of your self-imposed stupor. You turned away to hide your red cheeks, embarrassed by your sudden behavior change. You tried to speak calmly, suddenly becoming very aware of how stiff your voice sounded, but it was better than to let your actual emotions come through. “It will get dark soon. We should head back.”

“Are you jea—”

You kicked your mare’s sides, urging her to take off at a gallop. You didn’t want to hear him finish that sentence, didn’t want to think further about what had transpired. You knew you were behaving irrationally and immature, but you felt like you couldn’t face him, couldn’t stand for him to see you in such a vulnerable, ugly state.

Sylus chuckled as he watched you atop your mare, racing away across the land in the direction of the village. He tugged at his stallion’s rein, yelling, and his own horse took off after yours. Even though he had allowed you a head start, it didn’t take long for Sylus’ horse to close the distance.

You could hear the heavy hooves of the stallion behind you, and you urged your mare to run faster. It was a futile attempt to evade the approaching party. In a matter of seconds, Sylus’ stallion was running side by side with your mare again.

Your eyes widened when Sylus leaned over, his strong legs still keeping him steady on his horse. He grabbed you by the waist from your horse and easily carried you over to his, ignoring your panicked cries. The stallion had slowed to a halt, giving Sylus a chance to settle you and him more comfortably atop the horse. You watched with dismay as your mare continued galloping back to the village, leaving you trapped with Sylus. You looked up, shooting Sylus a heated glare.

“Why did you do that?!”

“Why are you glaring at me?”

“Why did you grab me like that?!”

“Why did you run away?”

“Why—why—”

He waited, his arrogant smile making you even more flustered and angry and emotional. Your glare wavered; you could feel the hot tears brimming in your eyes. You hurriedly blinked them away, but now you could also feel your chest tightening with pain, your breathing coming out ragged. The longer Sylus looked at you and the more you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the worse you felt, knowing a dam was about break and you could do nothing to stop it.

“So why—" Sylus stopped. His smile faltered when you finally broke down crying:

“Why…did you accept them?”

“What?”

You buried your face in your hands, crying, unable to calm yourself or keep the hot tears at bay. You shook and sobbed, your words tumbling uncontrollably out of your mouth, “Why did you accept those girls’ pouches?”

Sylus looked down at you, shocked, not expecting to see you crying, your voice holding so much hurt and pain, he felt guilty for putting you in such a state. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back to rest against his chest. He shushed you softly as he whispered apologies while you cried. You felt him burying his face in your hair, his chest pressing closer to your back, and you couldn’t understand why, but the act itself just made you cry harder as you wrapped your arms around his, hurt and scared and angry.

As dusk settled in, painting the sky in purple and orange, the air felt heavy. In the wide expanse of the grassland, the plane stretched for miles and miles, seemingly endless. You were but a speck in the field, and in that moment in his arms, you truly felt so small and insignificant.

As you returned to the village, nightfall had already descended. You and Sylus had ridden back in silence, the awkward atmosphere only worsening with each passing minute. Sylus had kept an arm protectively around your waist the entire time while his other hand held the rein. You looked down, eyes following the horse’s hooves as he trotted back to the village.

“We’re almost back,” Sylus’ soft voice broke through the tensed atmosphere.

You looked up, seeing the huts that lined the outskirt of the village and your mare quietly grazing in the distance. You wriggled a little, but that only made Sylus tightened his hold. You looked down at his arm around you and you said softly, “Let me down. I can walk back.”

“No,” he answered.

“Sylus—"

He suddenly yanked the rein, forcing the horse to turn around in a different direction.

“Sylus?!” you looked up, panicked, not expecting this sudden change in pacing. Sylus’ sight remained ahead, and your heart sped up at the view of seeing his handsome face from this angle, bathed only in moonlight.

Sylus commanded his horse skillfully and you both rode atop the stallion at a brisk pace across the grassland. The cool night breeze brushed against your cheeks, drying your earlier tears. You even found yourself starting to smile and laugh, the adrenaline taking over and stealing away your earlier anguish.

Eventually, Sylus took you back to the village once he had seen that you had calmed down. The horses were returned to their stable. After giving your mare a comforting stroke down her mane, you turned just as Sylus handed you the saddlebag. You looked up surprised.

“They mean nothing to me,” he said resolutely, “Burn them.”

“I’m not going to…”

He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, making you swallowed your words. “I had never meant to make you upset or have you cried like that, nor did I mean to make you jealous…”

“I was not jea—”

He leaned down and kissed your lips, silencing you. You dropped the saddlebag, the pouches spilling out on the ground. “Sy—”

He lifted you into his arms and you looked up in surprise. “What are you—"

He carried you out of the stable before letting you down again. You looked at him exasperatedly. “You always do what you want—this is not fair…”

“What’s not fair?”

“It’s not fair…how…I’m the only one…feeling insecure…”

In the village square, you could hear the celebration dying down as people started making their way home. The bonfire in the center still blazed brightly.

“You are right,” Sylus responded, “I don’t feel insecure.”

Your shoulders slumped and you kept your eyes lowered. You suddenly felt Sylus’ finger under your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his.

“You were promised to me,” he said, hushed, “And I to you.”

He kissed you. “We are meant to be, and were we not, I would rewrite the stars, to change the course of destiny and weave a new tapestry of fate to make you mine.”

His forehead pressed to yours. “My beloved,” he held his gaze with yours, “I will always choose you, in this life and the next. Whether we are meant to be or not—”

He kissed you again, and the last remnants of your jealousy and hurt faded away.

I will always choose you.

The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep.

As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes.

“Is this what you do when I’m not here?”

You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?”

You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I…was blinking.”

“Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.”

“I had some dust in my eyes.”

“I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.”

You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?”

“Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries.

Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly, wondering if this meant what you thought it meant. It was at that moment, though, that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face.

“Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly.

He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused.

“I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.”

“R-really?”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.”

“Sylus…” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke.

“Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.”

You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head.

How…ethereal...

He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.”

You looked down at him confused.

“My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?”

You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?”

He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.”

“You’ll put it back on for me, right?”

He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said lightly, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will…my bride.”

For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, your mind replaying what he had just said over and over again. Slowly, you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body.

“This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, your faces just barely apart, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.”

“Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself willingly and helplessly drown in those passionate crimson eyes.

“I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.”

Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.

Hands intertwined, you returned to the village with Sylus, his handmade wreath worn proudly on your head. There were envious looks directed at you and sighs of resignation heard here and there. You felt a squeeze from Sylus’ hand and you answered back with your own.

His love for you had always been true and steadfast.

When you looked back on your years together, it seemed he was always there, always yours.

The boy who was promised to you and you to him. An oath had been formed between two powerful families long before either of you came into the world, but perhaps it was always meant to be, because never once did either of you seemed to rebel against your destiny.

You grew up alongside him on the grassland, running barefoot and riding horses across the endless green pasture under the sun. It was a rich childhood filled with laughter and smiles, skinned knees and clumsy first kisses, with the boy who had carried you on his small back home. With the boy who had promised to grow up and become the strongest warrior on the grassland. With the boy who had sworn he would always keep you safe and protected.

The same boy, one day, had become a man, who had unwittingly stolen many young maidens’ hearts, but his own he had safeguarded and kept for you alone.

The man who would always find his way back to you no matter how far his duties may take him.

The man who would soon become your husband, the promise made so long ago between two families would now be honored.

You tightened your hold on his hand, and he smiled down on you.

That smile alone seemed to have banished any lingering insecurities you had. As you stared into his eyes, falling deeper and deeper, you knew nothing could ever sway him, could ever tear him from you. Likewise, there was no one else in your eyes and heart.

It was always going to be him.

There was much to celebrate in the coming weeks. Weddings after weddings took place across the village as one after another, couples were married off.

In the middle of spring, on a warm and sunny day, you were the last to be wedded, but your wedding ceremony was the most extravagant. As the only daughter of the village’s chief, you were the pride and joy of your father. From birth, you and Sylus had already been matched, your future destined together, and now as young adults, the day for your wedding was finally here.

Dressed in red and gold, the colors symbolizing love and prosperity, the elder women prepared you for your groom. You pressed your lips between a lipstick paper, staining them crimson as your cheeks were painted in a similar shade with the rouge made from the scarlet flowers gathered in the grassland. Your hair had been cleansed, fragranced, and styled with gold and red flowers decorating your tresses. You were the very image of a new bride, and now the time had come for you to go meet your groom.

As you made your way through the village, passing cheers from well-wishers, your eyes honed in on Sylus waiting for you at the end. Your breath hitched, your heart speeding up. Dressed in a matching red/gold ceremonial robe and trousers, he waited for you with a smile. You couldn’t help but noted appreciatively how the robe he wore brought out the beauty in his eyes.

His crimson eyes were always so sharp and piercing, able to strike fear into his enemies’ hearts, but when he gazed upon you, there was only soft, gentle joy, love, and gratitude.

The happiness he felt in this moment, knowing soon, by the day’s end, you would be his wife from now until the end of your time on this earthly plane.

The love he felt for you was deeper than the ocean’s depth, unmatched by any force in this world. He would lay down his life for you, rebel against the gods for you, he would submit to you time and time again.

The gratitude he felt for being born into the same lifetime as yours, to be able to have you as his, to build a life with you. He couldn’t begin to express the depths of his gratitude, but he would gladly spend the rest of his life trying.

As you approached him, his gaze seemed to soften even more. You stood facing him, your heart beating faster than normal. One large hand cupped your face and you smiled, leaning into his touch, feeling your heart steadying again.

Soon, he and you would be tethered together in matrimony, your bond witnessed by your village and the heavens above.

You exhaled slowly as the priest began the ceremony.

“May the gods and goddesses bless this pair, allow their union to be fruitful and their happiness endless.”

You stole a glance at Sylus, startling when you met his crimson gaze already settled on you. The fond smile he wore quickly transitioned to a smirk at your flustered expression. You started to look away out of sheer embarrassment, but you caught sight of him quietly mouthing to you: “Eyes on me.”

You found yourself obediently listening to him, your focus entirely on the man you were marrying. Likewise, Sylus kept his own eyes on you.

Time felt sluggish as the ceremony wore on, your body moving through the motions and unable to truly comprehend anything that was said. You didn’t even remember when the ceremony finally ended, only breaking out of your daze when the whole village erupted in cheers as even more scarlet flowers were tossed and thrown in the air to celebrate.

Now husband and wife, you linked arms with Sylus as you made your way back to the square, smiling and laughing as everyone cheered and blessed your marriage. You looked up just as Sylus leaned down and captured your lips, his sudden public display of affection causing a commotion.

While you were hyperaware of the many eyes on the two of you, Sylus appeared unconcerned. To him, there was no one else around. It was just the two of you.

“My bride…”

From morning to sundown to nightfall, it seemed like the celebration would never end. The feast was plentiful, the alcohol abundant, and all around you, people enjoyed the festivity to their hearts’ contents, feeling encouraged to engage in gluttony and merriment for this one special day. It was not every day that many would witness such a blessed union as this marriage between the most powerful warrior in the village and the chief’s daughter. There was much cause for celebration, much joyous anticipation for the bright future that was to come.

While everyone was taking part in the merriment, you and Sylus sat at your own private table, idly chatting and dining, unable to tear your eyes away from one another. You were feeding him some fruits when the village herbalist brought forth a tray with two wooden bowls filled to the brim with a specially prepared wine for newlyweds, the alcohol laced with a potent aphrodisiac. You took one of the wooden bowls hesitantly while Sylus grabbed the other. You took an uneasy glance at your new husband.

He smirked, meeting your gaze. Without any hesitation, Sylus raised his bowl to his lips, downing the wine in mere seconds. You felt a flutter in your belly before you drank from your own bowl, feeling the alcohol burning down your throat. The wine itself rushed to your head, already causing you to feel a little tipsy.

With your inhibitions suddenly lowered, Sylus pulled you to him, his lips seizing yours, and you tasted the rich wine still staining his lips while he tasted yours. You were told the wine would take some time to take effect, so you wondered why you felt so lightheaded in that moment from just a mere kiss.

“Come away with me,” Sylus murmured, his lips just a breath from yours. Taking your hand in his, Sylus dragged you to your feet, steadying you, before leading you away.

He spirited you away to the field on the outskirt of the village. You both left behind the raucous celebration, hearing the drunken laughter and singing fading with each step you took. As the other villagers continued in their festive merriments, no one noticed the absence of the newly wedded bride and groom.

On the outskirt of the village, there was no lamp or bonfire to light the way—only the distant stars overhead to guide you through the darkness. You passed the slumbering flock of sheep, all clustered together for warmth and protection.

“They need to be sheared soon,” you remarked, laughing as you pointed out the fluffiest of the bunch.

He smiled and grabbed your hand again, fingers intertwining together. He led you far away from the village, across the grassy plane.

How strange. You had run barefoot on these grass as children, and now you were walking side-by-side as husband and wife. You not-so-subtly leaned closer to him. He smiled.

“Where are we going?” you asked, looking up at your new husband.

Sylus shrugged. “Away,” he answered, “It’s too noisy back there.”

You laughed. “Celebrations are supposed to be noisy.”

He shrugged again. “I do not care for them.”

“How ironic, coming from a man who has been celebrated for his many feats all of his life.”

He chuckled, but decided not to deign a response to your quip. Instead, he paused in his steps, turning to face you, asking, “Shall I take you away from this place then?”

“And go where?”

“Wherever you would like,” he answered, making suggestions, “The sea, the mountains—”

“And if I say I enjoy our life on this grassy plane?”

He smiled. “Then I will build the biggest hut worthy of my bride.”

You giggled. “Such a powerful boast,” you said, humoring him. “What if I don’t like it?”

“Then I will build a new one.”

“What if I they all displease me?”

“I will still have a lifetime to please my fickle bride,” he responded, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. You both stumbled back, rolling down on the grass until you laid beneath him. Your cheeks suddenly felt warmer. Sylus peered down at you with a knowing smile. “My bride is suddenly silent…”

You looked up, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your senses suddenly heightened as you became all too aware of the close proximity of Sylus to you. He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against yours.

Above him, the dark night sky loomed overhead, millions upon millions of stars scattered the heavens, bearing witness to the sacred union on the grassy plane. You felt a slight warmth in your body, but you brushed the feeling aside.

“The moon…” you murmured, gaze looking past him at the bright, full orb in the sky, “She is beautiful…”

“Indeed,” he answered, hushed, eyes fixated only on you. His long, slender finger trailed down your smooth cheek as he spoke softly, “Have I stolen a goddess to be my wife?”

“Such sacrilegious words,” you chided him, but Sylus responded with a roguish grin, stealing your lips and taking your reprimand with delight.

He hummed and murmured in between the sweet kisses, “Am I wrong? Would the gods not bow down to your beauty? Would goddesses not become green with envy and wish to covet the love I have for you?”

You gasped for breath, unsure if your racing heart was spurred by his relentless kisses or the feverish words he had so sweetly uttered. You panted softly, voice still scolding, “The hubris of this mortal man…”

He pressed his forehead to yours, laughing, “I speak of only the truth—my truth.”

“The gods will surely punish you for such loose lips.”

“To bear punishments simply because my only crime is that I wish to lavish my bride with praises and love?” He kissed you again, a haughty smile graced his face. “Then let them punish me.”

The warmth in your body spread. Surely, such words couldn’t have this much of an effect on you, right? You vaguely noticed Sylus’ own expression seemed more heated, his eyes darkening with a look of desire and longing.

He kissed you again, but you felt it was different from the previous light, affectionate pecks. He was practically ravaging your soft lips to the point you felt like you would bruise. You moaned against his mouth, this burning inside of you worsening as you kissed him back just as eagerly.

As the night wore on, you began to notice the effects of the aphrodisiacs settling in, feeling the warmth spread in your body and seeing the flushed look on your new husband’s face.

“Sy-Sylus…” you called for him, and his lips and teeth grazed along your neck. You panted and tugged at his ceremonial clothes urgently. “I…I feel so warm…”

“I know,” he husked back, hand cradling your face. He breathed in sharply. He himself was also beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiacs on his body, and coupled with the erotic sight of your flushed expression, he could feel himself hardening, needing you just as much as you needed him in this moment. He kissed your lips again, his voice coming out in soft pants, “I cannot wait to go back to our hut. I must have you now.”

You nodded, your body was aching, yearning for him in a way you had never felt before. You tossed your head to the side, your arms reaching up to wrap around your body, your own hands tugging at your clothes impatiently. “It’s so hot…Sylus…my body…it…it feels…it feels like…like it’s throbbing…I…I…”

He groaned at your words. He pulled away, and you looked upset at the sudden loss of contact, already missing his heavy weight on you, his warm heat against you, his soft touches on you. You whined softly, needing him on you again.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, breathless.

“With my life,” you answered immediately, and he smiled.

He knelt before you, like a devout follower, your body his temple to worship at. He offered you his kisses, words praising your beauty. You watched, eyes glazed over, your throat drying, as he removed his clothes tossing them to the side unceremoniously. You felt the ache inside you worsened as you took in the magnificent appearance of your husband, your eyes raking up and down his glorious body. Your breath hitched as you bore witness to his manhood, feeling both trepidation and excitement swirling inside you.

He reached out and disrobed you, his own eyes greedily taking in the sight of your exposed body. There was no other beauty or treasure in the world that could entice him the way he was feeling for you in this moment.

“Lay back,” he ordered, and though you were confused, you obeyed him. Suddenly, your eyes widened when he had your legs slung over his powerful shoulders while he settled between your parted thighs. You felt his warm breath trailing along your thigh, reaching your core.

“Sylus, what are you—ohh…” your head fell back as you let out a moan, feeling his mouth pressing against your most intimate area.

His mouth…he is… “Ahh…!” You covered your mouth, embarrassed by the unexpected noises you were making.

“Don’t.” Sylus looked up, chiding you gently, “I want to hear more. I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”

“Ohhh…” You could feel him parting your slick lips, his tongue diving in and stroking against you in all of the right places. Your hips moved on their own, wanting more of this stimulating sensation he was bringing to you.

You opened your eyes a crack, barely able to see him, but you did catch a glimpse of his hand, seeing it wrapped around his magnificent manhood, pumping it urgently as he continued to pleasure you. You could feel your body pulsing at the sight, your breathing coming out in quick gasps and moans.

“Sylus…ohhh…”

You whimpered, feeling an unfamiliar sensation happening to your body. “Sylus—I…I feel strange…ahh…ahh…”

“Do you feel good?” he pulled back just a moment to check in on you, a smirk on his face. You whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention. He laughed and continued. You cried out when Sylus’ other hand pressed against you, brushing over an area that had you bucking against him. He continued stroking that same spot, feeling that sensitive little pearl, that was making you cry and moan so desperately, the erotic sounds you were making had him stroking himself harder and faster. Your helpless cries rose in pitch, coming out faster…and faster…and—

Your hips bucked up, your head tossed to the side as you let out a strangled moan, fingers finding only grass to hold onto as your body experienced the most euphoric sensation you had ever felt.

Sylus lapped at you greedily, forgetting his own pleasure as he wanted to only extend yours. You had never felt this high, this searing, hot pleasure coursing through your body. You focused on the feeling, wanting to hold onto it for as long as you could.

You were panting so hard, body trembling uncontrollably with pleasure. You didn’t know how long the heavenly feeling lasted, but when you felt the haze starting to subside, you realized Sylus was lavishing you with kisses. You hummed back tiredly, feeling his hands explored your body. You moaned as he squeezed your breast experimentally.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft. He pressed a kiss into the nape of your neck.

“So…so good…” You said, but then you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him again. You still felt so hot inside, still not fully satisfied. You whimpered to him, “Sylus…the wine…”

He panted, his hand cupping your sex, the friction from it only easing your ache a little. You needed more. Instinctively, your hips moved on their own, your body trying to seize whatever friction it could to satisfy this agonizing ache inside you.

“You are still so wet,” he murmured, laughing softly to himself, “This is good…”

You were confused by his words, but Sylus immediately kissed you again, reassuring you. “I’ll quell the fire inside you.”

Your eyes widened when he aligned himself to you, the head of his massive manhood pressing into your slick folds. You bit down on your lip, wincing from the unfamiliar sensation as you felt more and more of him entering. You gasped, tensing.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Bear with the pain a little, my bride.”

You arched forward, voice scared. “Sylus—!”

He hushed you softly as he pressed more of himself into you slowly, groaning as he felt your walls stretching to accommodate him. He gauged your reaction closely, pleased as you became used to the feeling of him penetrating you.

He watched as your expression slowly changed, your arousal coming back stronger as he sheathed himself fully inside you. For a moment, he remained still, buried completely inside you and letting you adjust to the feeling. His lips found yours again, his hand slipping into yours.

“Ahh…m…more…”

Sylus’ ears perked up the moment he heard your soft plea. He began moving. Slow, careful movements at first, and then he slammed into you, making you cry out as stars filled your vision. Once he was sure you were enjoying yourself, he picked up his pacing, setting a hard, fast rhythm.

You writhed beneath him on the grass, moaning as he spread you more, taking you in deeper. His kisses trailed down your neck to your chest, his mouth finding your nipple to suckle. You squirmed when his tongue teased the sensitive nub, swirling around it until it hardened. “Sylus!”

He groaned when your fingers found his hair, tugging at him, urging him on. His voice was heavy with arousal when he spoke, “Taking me so well…my beloved beautiful bride…” He kissed your neck, his hands explored your body, learning and memorizing all of the curves that only he would ever know and trace. He memorized the way you sounded, the way your body was trembling with pleasure as it felt every burning touch and thrust from him.

“Sylus…more…more…please…”

He smiled and kissed your lips, swallowing your pleas hungrily.

Every powerful thrust had you calling his name, begging and pleading for him to go deeper and harder and faster. He answered your desperate pleas, giving you everything you were begging for. “Sylus—I am…ahh…it’s…close…”

He grunted. He could feel it too, knowing you were so close to coming undone again by him. That sweet, mounting pleasurable feeling you had felt earlier was almost here, just within reach, a little more, and—

You could feel your world tipping over, a white-hot searing pleasure coursing through your body, more powerful than the last. You didn’t know which god or goddess to praise for the intense pleasure this man was bringing to you, but you continued to cry out anyway. You gripped the grass, tugging until you pulled them free from the ground. The grass blades slipped from your fingers and scattered in the wind.

Sylus continued to rock into you, his own climax nearing. His hands gripped tightly your hips as he pounded into you with enough force that your breasts bounced. His hand skimmed over your flat belly, already imagining it growing heavy with a new life inside.

“Going to have you bear my children,” he murmured against your ear, his large hand gripping your much smaller one.

You moaned at his words. This was to be your role. You had always known it. The women were expected to bear their husbands’ children, the future of the village depending on these fruitful unions. For a powerful warrior like him, there was even more pressure for you to conceive, to bear him many strong sons who would inherit and carry on his legacy.

“Yes, yes,” you answered him breathlessly. You held onto him as he drove into you, his words reigniting the fire inside you. You whined softly into his shoulder. “Please, Sylus…”

“Oh, gods,” he grunted, “You are going to look so beautiful, my beloved.”

You mewled at his words. “More…ah…tell me more…”

His breath hitched, but he continued, his own words making him dizzy with pleasure. He was smirking as he panted, “Would you like that, my beloved? Would you like to grow big and round with my baby in your womb?”

You whimpered. It was your role. It was your duty. However, the way he asked, the way his deep voice sounded, rasping with desire, made you realized that you did want to have his babies—not out of obligation, but as an expression of your sincere love for him. You gasped and cried out, “Yes!”

That one word seemed to have driven Sylus wild. He spread you more and drove in deeper, his powerful thrusts unrelenting as he neared his own release. Your cries echoed in the dark night sky. You practically squealed, unprepared for this sudden aggressive switch.

“You’re going to carry my baby,” he murmured, nearly delirious with desire, “Grow big and round with my baby. Everyone will know. Everyone will know it is my baby in your womb, my baby that I fucked into you.”

You panted and moaned, your hands searching desperately for anything to hold onto, anything to keep you grounded as he took you for himself. Normally so sweet and affable with you, his sudden lewd words had you throbbing all over again. You didn’t realize you could get so aroused by such obscene words, but you found your body was craving more. You wanted to hear him say more of these perverted words, wanted to hear these indecent thoughts spoken aloud by his deliciously and sinfully deep voice. You wanted him to act on his lascivious desires, wanted those words to come true, wanted him to actually fuck a baby into you. You whimpered his name, gasping and pleading.

Sylus leaned in closer to you and you instantly encircled your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around you, lifting you off the ground, your legs locking around his waist as he penetrated you deeply, hitting that sweet spot that had you feeling that same euphoric feeling approaching again.

“You are going to look beautiful—so fucking gorgeous—heavy with my baby in you. Going to keep feeling you, going to fuck you over and over again while you are pregnant.”

His movements had become hurried and graceless, his own words mixed with your reactions had him close to the edge. “Gonna fill you up, gonna keep you full, gonna make sure my seed take.”

“Oh, Sylus—I am going to—ahh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

You felt it, it was coming again, it was mounting, getting tighter, so close, so close, so fucking close—

You screamed your release into his shoulder, your nails scraping frantically along his back as you felt him emptied into you, filling and flooding your womb full of his seed. You bit down into his shoulder, and he hissed with pain and pleasure. There was just so much.

“Sylus—ahh, I…I feel so…full…”

He groaned and buried his face into your neck. His voice was low and commanding, “Take every last drop.”

“Ahh…Sylus…Sylus…”

He lifted your head from his shoulder, and he leaned forward, your lips his to take. You trembled against him, the aftershocks of your release still coursing through your spent body. You stayed in his arms, boneless and satisfied, the effects of the aphrodisiacs finally wearing off.

You looked at him with half-hooded eyes, meeting his own satiated gaze. His lips found yours again, his kisses more tender this time as you stayed in each other’s embrace longer as you both slowly came back down from your shared climaxes.

You lay with him beneath the stars, the cool spring breeze a welcoming presence after your heated lovemaking. You nestled into Sylus’ embrace, sighing softly when he tightened his hold. He covered you both loosely with his ceremonial robe as you basked in the afterglow.

You prayed for this moment to last, to always remember every single detail of this night. Among the million stars above, you hoped at least one would hear your silent prayer and make it come true. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped by Sylus’ warmth. As you slipped into a deep slumber, you could hear Sylus’ rich, deep voice murmuring softly:

“My beloved bride…I love you.”

As daybreak came, you found yourself waking up on top of fur, feeling a strong, protective arm wrapped around you. When you looked up, you didn’t see the sky. You looked around and realized you were inside a hut.

You heard soft snoring and looked up, seeing Sylus’ sleeping face close to yours. You smiled as memories of the previous day rushed back through your mind, your cheeks tinging pink as you remembered the passionate night beneath the stars with him on the grassland.

You snuggled into his embrace, his now familiar warmth enveloping you. Sylus stirred when he felt your movements. He looked down and smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“Good morning, my bride.”

You smiled, answering him, “Good morning…my husband.”

The one word seemed to have robbed Sylus of all thoughts as he seemed to sleepily replayed what you had just said again in his head. Slowly, happily, he smiled and pulled you into a kiss.

“Say it again,” he murmured against your lips.

“My husband.”

“I love you,” he whispered back, his words making you swelled with joy. He rolled over and had you trapped beneath him. His feverish kisses covered you and you struggled to keep up.

“Sy—Sylus, the sun is up—!”

“I do not care,” he murmured, nibbling your neck, “Do not worry. Just let this happen, my bride.”

You mewled softly, feeling his soft lips all over you, his hands roaming your body brazenly. Helplessly, you gave in to his wicked temptation and to your desires, surrendering yourself completely to him that morning.

By the next moon cycle, many of the new young brides had fallen pregnant—yourself included. The men had already departed for their hunting trip, already prepping for the cold winter months to come. They would not be receiving news about their expecting brides until they returned—hopefully with a bountiful hunt.

You had all conceived around the same time, so everyone’s growths were only slightly different. Even though, you were the last to lay with your husband, everyone noticed how fast you were growing, belly rounding out bigger and faster than the other new brides and mothers.

Oh, worry not, that is normal, one woman said.

The women in Sylus’ family all bear big, strong sons, another explained.

That’s right. You should be proud that you are already this big, you were told.

Child, do not fret, you were made for this, an elder assured you.

At night, you lay in bed, hand smoothing over your growing middle. Though the women in the village had offered you their wisdom and experience, you still felt unsure and worried about your fast growth. Your heart beat softly, your worries mounting. You turned in bed and stared at the empty space next to you, missing and yearning for your husband’s warmth and comfort.

You closed your eyes, hand cradling your belly, and you prayed for Sylus’ safe and quick return.

When the summer heat crept in unexpectantly, the village resounded with joyous cries as the men returned with wild games and fowls. Some were to be feasted on in the coming days while others would be cured for the winter months when food was scarce.

You raced through the village as fast as you could in your current delicate condition, arriving at the square just as you saw the imposing figure of your husband. A large wild boar was slung over Sylus’ strong, broad shoulders as he entered the square, but the moment he saw your approaching figure, seeing your rounded belly, he dropped the wild beast and rushed to you, gathering you into his arms, laughing joyously.

He carefully steadied you on your feet, dropping to his knees as he cautiously felt your belly, surprised when he was already feeling faint movements. He looked up at you adoringly, “You look breathtaking, my beloved.”

You covered your mouth with both of your hands, suppressing the laugh and cry threatening to rise. He looked at you concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.

He smiled. “I’m home.”

“Welcome home,” you said the familiar words you had said so many times in the past, but this was the first time you had uttered them as his wife. You sighed, relieved, repeating, “Welcome home.”

Nightfall arrived once more, and throughout the village, families settled in for the night one after another.

“I’ve missed you,” Sylus murmured as he climbed into bed with you, his lips already finding yours. You hummed softly, feeling your heart beating fast when his large hand rubbed against your belly, feeling the faint movements of the baby inside.

You could hear his soft, disbelieving chuckle as he parted from you. His forehead pressed to yours, his lips still near yours. “This is really happening,” he murmured, overjoyed “How do you feel?”

“Good,” you answered with a smile.

“No sickness? No discomfort?”

You shook your head. “The herbalist had given me some medication to help with the sickness.”

Sylus nodded in understanding. “That’s good then,” he murmured. He kissed your forehead, and he apologized softly. “This won’t be easy on you, so I want to ease your discomfort as much as I am able to.”

“Sylus…”

He leaned down and kissed your belly. “You are giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.” He rubbed your belly fondly, delighting in feeling his child responding to his touch, “Thank you, my beloved.”

The fears and unease you had felt about your changing body disappeared the moment you laid with Sylus. The flames in the lamps had long been extinguished, but you felt like in the dark hut, you could still see him clearly, see the love and desire in his eyes.

He worshiped your body the same way he did on your wedding night, reveling in the beauty and changes happening. The stretch marks that had started to appear around your stomach were caressed and kissed with revere, his voice full of praises and gratitude for the sacrifices you were making to carry his child.

When he gripped your soft, widened hips, you let out a low, deep moan, your body welcoming him in. The night air was cool on the grassland, but within this hut you both called home, there was a heat unlike any other as sweat-slicked bodies moved together with familiar ease. The air was thick and heavy with the sounds of your intense lovemaking, and where your moans ended, his began.

You kissed him, your ardent words coming out in between gasps and moans, “Welcome home…my love…”

He smiled against the sweet kisses, greedily taking them for himself. His forehead rested against yours, his movements reaching you where you needed most, and as you came, trembling so beautifully with pleasure beneath him, he breathed against your neck:

“I’m home.”

The once vibrantly green grass of the plane had begun to yellow, drying out as the weather started changing. The morning air had been chilly, and within Sylus’ warm embrace in the early hours, you both felt reluctant to leave the comfort of your shared bed.

You could hear stirring outside your hut as one by one, many of the villagers were getting up, ready to start the brand-new day. You burrowed into Sylus’ embrace, ignoring him when he laughed.

“Are you not going to get up, my bride?”

You shook your head. “It’s still early…”

You felt his hand brushing aside your hair, hearing a soft agreeable hum from him. You perked up when you heard him speaking again, “I will have to leave soon.”

“No,” you said, grabbing his arm and preventing him from getting up. “Stay with me a few minutes longer…please?”

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He leaned over and kissed your head, his hand smoothing your hair to the side. “So needy this morning,” he teased, though you didn’t care. You did feel needy, wanting him to stay and coddle you a little longer.

“So what if I am?” you challenged him. You attempted to sit up, but the heavy weight you carried made the once simple task much more difficult. Sylus immediately helped you as you cradled your large belly. You wondered just how big you could get for the remainder of your pregnancy. You already felt impossibly large, almost embarrassed by your size compared to many of the other expectant women in the village. You leaned back against the wall, sighing as you rubbed your belly restlessly.

He smiled sympathetically and kissed you again, his own hand resting over your stomach. “The baby is already so active this early in the morning,” he said, astonished.

“He must take after his father,” you said wearily as you shifted uncomfortably, “He doesn’t let me rest at all at night.”

Sylus smirked; his expression wickedly lewd. “Is that so?” He felt your belly again, feeling nonstop movements from the baby. He glanced at you, seeming intrigued by your earlier comment. “You said ‘he.’ What makes you so sure it’s a boy?”

You shrugged. “The women have told me that I am carrying low, which they said all points to me carrying a boy.”

Sylus looked puzzled by your explanation. “And you believe them?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “But I thought you would be pleased to hear the baby might be a boy?”

“I wouldn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl,” he said firmly. He leaned closer, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of your head, keeping you trapped. He smirked and kissed you. “Besides, I have no intention of just having one child with you.”

You blushed and tried to look away. You gasped when he went in and kissed your cheek, his lips traveling further south as he continued down your neck. “Sy—Sylus…”

“I knew it. You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his hand continued to caress your belly, delighting in feeling his child moving inside you. “Carrying my baby, having my baby…”

“Mmm, Sylus…”

He laughed again when he felt a particularly strong kick. “I see we have a fighter,” Sylus said, smiling, “Maybe he does take after me—or she.”

You looked at him curiously. “‘She’?”

He nodded and laid back down next to you. He kissed your belly, stroking it fondly. You felt a warmth in your chest when he did that, his look of adoration and delight making you smiled fondly.

“I want both sons and daughters,” he said firmly, looking up at you. He stroked your cheek, “I want daughters as pretty as their mother. As sweet as their mother. As loving as their mother.”

You smiled, your cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink. You decided to play along with him, teasingly asking, “Does that mean I want sons as strong as their father? As dependable as their father? As free-spirited as their father?”

“Is that how you see me?”

You nodded. You tilted your head and looked thoughtful. Sylus raised a brow at seeing your sudden quiet disposition.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stroking your cheek again.

“Do...do you…”

“Do I what?”

Your cheeks brightened further.

“Tell me,” He demanded. “What is it?”

“How many children are we going to have?”

Sylus wasn’t expecting that question, so it took him a few seconds to register what you had asked him. He then laughed, making you feel embarrassed. He quickly apologized, kissing you reassuringly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “But I want to have a lot of children with you.”

He sat up, his hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer. “As many as my beloved will allow me to have.”

“Then,” you started hesitantly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest, “If I say…I want to give you as many as you want…”

Sylus looked surprised, and then he smiled again, his lips brushing against yours. “Then, I feel like the most blessed man in the world.”

He pulled you into his embrace, showering you with sweet words and kisses.

Outside the hut, life had already begun again as people went about their day and chores. You both could hear the laughter of children running outside, mothers scolding their little ones, and men already laboring away to provide for their family.

For this particular morning, you and Sylus both decided to idle, to lounge around and enjoy the comfort of each other. As you lay in his arms again, Sylus lulled you back to sleep with stories of the future. You drifted to sleep, his deep voice describing a memory yet to come: beneath the azure summer sky and across the luscious green grassland, your children raced barefooted, their sweet bell-like laughter carried away by the playful wind.

“I feel like I am being kicked in all directions at once,” you sighed one cold evening, your hands rubbing restlessly all over your stomach. “Surely, this is not normal.”

Sylus wrapped his arms around you from behind. He looked down at you, your pout nearly making him laugh out of complete adoration for you. He couldn’t help but found you endearing whenever you looked frustrated and upset.

“You must be close to giving birth now, right?”

You nodded as you grabbed Sylus’ hand, guiding him to where you felt the most movements in your womb. You smiled when you looked up, seeing his surprised expression when he felt the baby’s strong kick. You answered his inquiry, “The midwife said it wouldn’t be long before the baby drops.”

As soon as you finished saying that, your expression faltered. Sylus noticed the change and he questioned you gently. You tried to brush it aside, but Sylus persisted, demanding to know what was upsetting you so suddenly.

You reluctantly relented. “Sylus,” you started, your voice growing smaller as you prepared for your confession, “I’m…scared.”

His expression softened. He turned you around to face him, but you kept your sight downcast. You could feel Sylus rubbing your cheek in comfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Speak to me.”

“What if…something goes…wrong.”

Sylus was immediately silent. You slowly looked up. His lips were a tight line, his eyes hardening. You could see him inhaling sharply as he seemed to try to keep his emotions under check for your sake. You then felt him guiding you to your bed.

You both sat down and Sylus was holding your hand tightly in his. At first, he didn’t say anything, almost as if he was trying to gather his thoughts and choose his words carefully. After a few beats, he began to speak:

“I do not wish to lie to you,” he said, mindful of his words, “But…I also do not like thinking of the possibility. All I can do is believe that everything will be fine.”

You looked unassured; your expression still anxious.

He pulled you into his arms. “I refuse to think otherwise,” he continued, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly, “You are strong and capable. Our baby is healthy and active. I have no reason to think differently.”

“Sylus…”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. He looked apologetic as he spoke, “I wish I could take away your worries.”

You rested your cheek against his chest, eyes closed. You could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. This was…calming, you realized. His presence alone was comforting you, easing your fears. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, hesitant.

“Will you…stay with me? When I give birth?”

He looked at you confused.

“Please…”

He gave you a small smile, his hands cupping your face as his thumbs massaged little circles on your cheeks. “You know men are not allowed in the room.”

“Since when do you follow rules?”

At this, he laughed, conceding immediately. “You’re right,” he said, nuzzling his face against yours, “I will gladly stay with you, my beloved. I don’t want you to ever feel like you are alone, especially during this time.”

You smiled against him, feeling as if the worries you had been shouldering silently was easing. You still felt scared, felt so unsure of yourself, but you knew with Sylus by your side, you could find the confidence to believe that everything would work out in the end.

“Oh!”

“What’s wrong?” Sylus looked down at you, his face hardening.

You laughed as you peered down and felt your belly. You gasped again, laughing louder, “He is really not making it easy on me!”

Sylus relaxed, smiling with you.

“Or she,” Sylus reminded you, his own hand covering your stomach. He stroked it lovingly as he continued to speak, “She could be upset that her mother is scared and anxious.”

Sylus nuzzled his face against yours again, kissing your cheek. “But I hope her mother will feel better knowing I am here.”

You smiled, touched by his attempts at comforting you. “I am,” you answered. You then poked his cheek playfully, your expression puzzled. “But why are you so insistent that the baby is a girl? I thought you said it didn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sylus reaffirmed, grinning, “But we don’t know for sure yet if it is a boy or a girl. I don’t see why we can’t entertain the idea that we could be having a daughter.”

You laughed softly. You wrapped your arms around your large belly. “You say it doesn’t matter, but why do I get the feeling that you are really hoping for a girl?”

He smirked. “Am I?”

He pulled you down into bed, helping you lay on your side, your back resting against his chest. Sylus rubbed your stomach soothingly, his warmth encompassing you. You closed your eyes peacefully as you listened to his calming voice:

“We could have a pretty little daughter,” he began, his smile infectious. “Perhaps she will be as feisty and sweet like her mother. She would be the brightest jewel in the grassland, our precious little treasure.”

“We would have to find a good husband for her,” you quipped teasingly. You opened your eyes and looked up just in time to catch Sylus’ look of utter disdain. You giggled and poked at his cheek again, making him frowned even more. “What is with that look?”

“The very idea displeases me.”

“What about it displeases you?”

“Just…everything.”

You tsked at him. “Be honest,” you said, amused, “what do you not like about this?”

Sylus groaned and looked down at you with a light glare. “You are really going to make me say it?”

You nodded with a grin.

“No boy will be good enough for her.”

You laughed.

“You’re laughing at me,” Sylus said, offended. He had genuinely thought you would be on his side on this matter. “You are actually laughing at me. How impudent.”

You rolled your eyes at him, saying, “I am sure we can find her a perfect match. After all, we were matched perfectly by our parents, right?”

Sylus looked at you defeated. “You are being very unfair.”

“I am being as fair as I can be when we are discussing about our baby, who we still don’t know for sure if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Sylus sighed. “Very well,” he conceded, still unhappy, “You really ruined my good mood.”

You looked at him with mock-pity. “And your baby keeps me up at night. And it’s your fault I can’t see my feet any more—and they are swollen because of you, too. And also—”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, amused, “I know when to call it quits.”

He pulled you back against him, his hand resting over your stomach. He murmured into your ear, “Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. The baby is already the greatest gift you can give me, so thank you, my beloved.”

You closed your eyes and smiled, letting his gentle ministrations eased you to sleep as you felt the baby you carried calming down, seemingly also lulled by their father’s presence and voice.

One by one, many of the young mothers went into labor with their child. Day after day, week after week, the painful wails and desperate cries of laboring mothers were heard throughout the village as a child was brought forth into the world.

You were the last, and everyone waited with bated breath for your child’s birth. You were already the biggest, and with each new day, you continued to grow uncomfortably bigger. The cold winter month was also settling in, stripping the grassland of its once vibrant colors and life.

On this particular evening, the first snowfall had arrived, already blanketing the grassland in a layer of snow. You had heard the laughter from children as they played, attempting to catch the falling snowflakes on their tongues. You looked down at your belly, rubbing it as you wondered what your child’s first reaction to snow would be like.

“Please come out,” you pleaded to your stubborn baby, “Don’t you want to see the snowfall, too?”

You felt a strong kick, almost as if the baby was responding negatively to your plea and question. You sighed, and huffed resignedly, “Already stubborn like your father…”

“What about me?” Sylus entered the hut just as you finished speaking.

“Nothing,” you lied, giving him a poorly-disguised smile. He knew you were fibbing, but decided it was perhaps in his best interest to not antagonize you during this time. He knew the last couple weeks had been rough on your body and with so many women having already given birth to their babies, he knew your anxiety was also increasing as your own child seemed adamant about prolonging your discomfort.

“Do you want to eat something?” Sylus offered, but you shook your head.

“I think I want to walk.”

“It’s snowing outside,” he answered.

“I know,” you responded, “Maybe I can just walk around the hut. It will help with the pressure around my hips.”

Sylus nodded.

You paced your hut restlessly, one hand on your lower back as the other cradled your large belly. You breathed in and out slowly, wincing in discomfort. Sylus walked up behind you, his hands settling on your hips as he rubbed soothing circles.

“Do you think it’s almost time?” he questioned, worried.

You were about to shake your head, but you winced again in discomfort. “I don’t know,” you admitted, as your hands rested over his appreciatively, silently urging him to press in harder. He complied.

“The last three days have been false pains,” you said, frustrated, “Does the baby not want to be born?”

He chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle his face against your cheek. “The baby probably feels safe inside you, so it doesn’t want to be born yet.”

“I would feel touched by such lies,” you started, turning to peck his cheek to his amusement and delight, “but, Sylus, I am too uncomfortable to put up with your thinly-veiled flatteries.”

“When have I ever flattered you?” he remarked with a teasing grin, walking around to face you. He rubbed your overdue belly with a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t help but found your frustration endearing, though he knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud during this time. Instead, he guided you to bed.

You sat down in between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hands rubbing soothing circles around your gravid middle as he leaned down and nibbled on your neck, whispering huskily, “I know this has been tough on you, my beloved, but I have adored seeing the changes that you have been through to carry our child.”

His brazen touches felt so possessive, as if it made him proud to know that the many changes that had happened to your body was his complete doing. You whimpered and sighed as he continued, seemingly growing bolder with his intents. The featherlight kisses he peppered along your neck felt like such a stark contrast to the lustful words he whispered to your ears.

“So beautiful, so fertile,” he said, his voice so honeyed and sultry, you felt like you were pulsing inside. You could barely keep your breathing steady or your voice quiet. Sylus gazed at you intensely, his scarlet eyes seemed to shimmered with satisfaction. He appeared almost pleased by your flushed doe-eyed look. He continued in the same hushed, sensuous voice, his hands practically groping you all over, “And so voluptuous. You have filled out beautifully, my beloved.”

“Sylus…” Your voice sounded breathless as you reached down to grab at his mischievous hands. You felt a building warmth in your body, his devilish voice and tantalizing words igniting a fire inside. With his teasing ministrations on your sensitive body, you began to crave for more from him. You squeezed his hands.

“What is it?” His breathing stopped for a moment, seeing the aroused look in your eyes.

He smirked.

Sylus leaned in and kissed you, his touches shameless and greedy.

He helped you lay down and as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands were already working on undressing you. You tugged at his own clothes, and he chuckled in amusement at your impatience. He began undressing himself as well, letting all of the clothes fall to the ground. He lay down behind you, his lips trailing along your shoulder as his hand rubbed your much overdue belly. You whined as you felt him rutting against you from behind, his hard member pressing against your slick entrance.

“P-please…please, Sylus…”

You felt your insides throbbing, desperate to be filled by him. You gasped into a pillow as he answered your plea, his massive manhood slowly easing in, drawing out your heavy moans. You felt his hand pressing into your hip, gripping you tightly as he buried himself in you.

You were practically crying with relief, just feeling him sheathed inside you was easing the discomfort you had been feeling these past few weeks. You rocked back against him, a silent invitation. Sylus smirked.

He began moving, but compared to your previous lovemaking with your husband, this time Sylus was careful, his movements slow but precise, still able to draw out your pleased moans. He gauged your reactions, his own pleasure secondary as he was more concerned about your comfort.

“Sy—Sylus…m-more…”

“Are you sure?” His words came out in soft pants. Seeing you so heavy, so close to going into labor with his baby, was arousing him in a way he never knew it could. He wanted nothing more right now than to fuck you like a wild beast, to make you writhe and scream with pleasure. He was only holding himself back for your sake.

When you nodded, unaware of his inner desires, that was enough to break his restraint. You gasped as you felt his thrusts getting harder, feeling it reaching you deeper and deeper. Your fingers curled around a blanket, gripping it tightly as your face was buried against a pillow as you felt him driving into you with more force than before.

You groaned and moaned into the bed, your grip around the blanket vicelike as you felt his length piercing you with precision over and over and over again. You called out his name, your pitch higher than normal. Sylus groaned deeply at the heavenly sound, his arousal clouding his mind with only thoughts of claiming you again and again until you went into labor.

Sylus’ pants grew heavier, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you. In his eyes, you looked absolutely perfect like this. On your side, heavily pregnant with his baby, your leg held up by him as he fucked shamelessly into you. Your cries and moans were the sweetest noises he had ever heard.

Sylus reached around you with his other hand, groping your heavy, tender breast, kneading and teasing until your milk leaked and dribbled openly down your chest. At this point, you were too far gone, completely lost in this thick haze of pleasure to even feel any embarrassment or worried about your modesty. Whatever he was doing, you wanted even more from him.

“Don’t stop…don’t stop…ahh…please, Sylus, more, more, more…!” you whined over and over, his name spilling shamelessly from your lips. You could feel your pleasure was cresting, reaching new heights. “…Sylus…Sylus!”

“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt you cumming around his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, one hand squeezing your breast as his other gripped your hip so hard, you would surely bruise by morning. Without a word, he spilled into you, hot and heavy.

Your eyes squeezed shut, lost in this state of euphoria. You moaned, feeling so full. He was cumming into you so much, you felt his release dripping out of you.

You gasped, feeling a twinge in your belly.

“Oh, gods, ah…ah…ah” you panted as you reached for his hand over your breast. You whimpered as you felt an unfamiliar tightening around your stomach, the pain intermingling with the residual pleasure you were feeling. “Sy—Sylus…”

You called for his name weakly, and Sylus was immediately alerted. He looked down at you in concern, feeling your nails scraping against his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the whimpers from escaping your lips. The cramps were worsening and you just wanted to curl up. “Ah…Sylus…my belly hurts…”

At those words, Sylus pulled out of you slowly and more of his release spilled out obscenely. His breath hitched the moment he realized his seed wasn’t the only thing dripping out of you and down your thighs. There was a growing wetness on the bed beneath where you lay.

Your water had broken.

You gasped and clutched your belly, feeling the first pangs of labor as well as the baby descending lower in your womb. There was so much pressure in your hips, you began to panic. Seeing your distress, Sylus immediately dressed and rose to his feet, rushing outside the hut, his deep voice bellowed across the quiet village, “Call for the midwives! It’s time!”

Night descended over this small village once more, and the first snow of winter continued to gently fall, the ground already accumulating several inches from the past hours. The village was quiet, giving the illusion of tranquility, but within one lone hut, the atmosphere was tensed as you labored while several midwives tended to you.

“It won’t be long, child,” a midwife commented, checking the progress of your dilation. Another wiped at your sweat-soaked face with a cooling cloth, giving you a look of sympathy.

You whimpered and gritted your teeth as you breathed through the next pains.

“Easy, easy now,” you heard Sylus’ voice behind you. Cradled in between his long legs, you leaned back against his chiseled chest, panting heavily. You were grateful that he had insisted on staying with you in spite of the midwives’ initial opposition. With only one sharp glare from Sylus, he had everyone yielding to him, none daring to oppose the fearful warrior.

You felt Sylus caressing your small fingers in his hand, this simple act already keeping you grounded and calm. You whimpered quietly, “It hurts so much…”

He looked down at you helplessly. “I know, my beloved, but you’re doing so well. Stay strong.”

You moaned softly as you felt Sylus large hand massaging your hips, easing some of the pain, if only a little. As the minutes ticked by, you felt the pains getting closer and closer until you finally heard the words you were desperately waiting for:

“She is ready to deliver.”

You leaned further back against Sylus as he helped you get into position to start pushing. With your legs spread and propped up, you began pushing at the midwife’s urging. Your eyes widened as you felt the baby shifting inside, dropping lower.

“It…it feels so…big,” you gasped.

Before one of the younger midwives could make a quick remark regarding the genetics in Sylus’ family, he silenced her with a cold glare, making her cowered back. He looked down at you warmly, your hand in his. “That’s it, keep going…”

You pushed for several seconds longer, but honestly to you, it felt like an eternity. You could have sworn the pressure was intensifying, feeling the weight so heavy in your pelvis. Quick, short grunts left your lips as you bore down again. Once the pains ebbed, you collapsed back against Sylus, crying in frustration, “Nothing is happening!”

Sylus shushed you gently as the midwife reassured you that you were progressing well. You found it hard to believe. You panted softly, already feeling your energy drained. Sweat glistened down the sides of your face as you shut your eyes again, body tensing as the next pains arrived. You instinctively started pushing once more, feeling more progress being made this time. All around you, you heard hushed gasps and whispers, but you couldn’t comprehend anything said as you concentrated on birthing your baby.

Without a word, Sylus guided your hand lower and you felt between your legs. You opened your eyes in shock. “So much hair!” you exclaimed, laughing in spite of the agonizing pain you were feeling. Your fingers felt the little tufts of hair again. You couldn’t believe it. This was your baby’s. Your baby was right there.

For this brief instance, you felt your energy renewed as you gave your everything and bore down again, your laboring grunts heard throughout the room. As you pushed, your hand found Sylus’ again and you squeezed it tightly, his presence giving you the strength to persevere through this arduous ordeal.

“Just a little more,” he said, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. “You are doing so well.”

Your efforts yielded slow result, feeling the baby emerging little by little. When the contractions subsided, you leaned back against Sylus for a brief reprieve, but instead of resting, you whined in frustration when you felt the baby receding a little and negating all of your progress just now.

Sylus whispered praises and encouragement soothingly to you as the midwives also assured you everything would be fine. You barely registered any of the voices, your body demanding your full attention again as you felt the next urge to push.

“Oh, gods…”

You panted softly, your eyes clenched shut as you put all of your focus into pushing out your baby again. You unconsciously squeezed Sylus’ hand, and then you let out a tired cry when you felt the baby’s head emerging fully. You trembled and sobbed, feeling a strange mixture of pain and relief in that moment. You could hear voices all around you encouraging you on, but the words meant nothing to you as you could only focus on the excruciating pain you were enduring.

“Here comes the shoulders, push, child, push!” the midwife’s voice rang loud in the room. You reflexively shook your head, begging silently to any merciful goddess who would take pity on you and end this suffering now.

“Please…I can’t…!” Your grip on Sylus’ hand tightened, your nails digging into his flesh. If he had felt any pain, he did not voice or show it. Instead, you felt his warm breath close to your ear, his soothing voice low and only audible to you.

“I know it hurts, my beloved, but you can’t stop now.” Sylus’ voice pulled you back, and you leaned against him crying softly. He rubbed you up and down, whispering more words of comfort and encouragement. “You’re so close, so close, a little more, my beloved, just a little more…our child is almost here…”

Your breathing was ragged, but you tried to gather what little strength you had left. In spite of your exhaustion, your body was already acting on instinct, already pushing again and you groaned lowly, feeling like you were being spread more and more, feeling each shoulder painfully coming out one at a time.

“Hah…hah…Sylus…ahh…”

“I’m here, I’m here, I won’t leave you,” he whispered, his eyes darting rapidly from your face to his baby slowly emerging from you. He seemed to have stopped breathing as he watched, awestruck, as the baby was born.

You collapsed back against him, sobbing in relief.

Not too long afterwards, the room resounded with the loud cry of a newborn.

“It’s a boy,” the midwife declared after cutting the cord that connected you and your son. The baby was immediately cleaned and prepared to be swaddled.

Sylus stilled at the announcement, the reality of the situation slowly settling in. His face broke out into a wide smile as he looked down at you. “A son, we have a son—”

The joy in the room was short-lived. Sylus was the first to notice you straining again, hearing your soft grunts and whines and seeing the pained look still on your face.

He was immediately tensed. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

You gritted your teeth and then let out another strangled cry. “It still hurts!” You turned, burying your face against his chest again, sobbing. You couldn’t even rest for a moment as you felt the now all too familiar urge to push. You gasped and panted against Sylus’ chest. It couldn’t be…this couldn’t be happening…you had just given birth already…this couldn’t be happening—

“Another child!” One of the younger midwives cried out, alerting everyone else in the hut. There were shocked gasps and mutters as many crowded around while others continued to focus on your first baby who continued to cry.

“Twins,” another muttered, shocked, “She was carrying twins.”

The eldest and most experienced of the group quickly accessed the situation, already barking out orders, “Don’t just stand there! Hurry! Prepare for the second child!”

You did not know whether it was because of the first baby or not, but your second child was coming much quicker. You had no time to rest as your body was already straining again, already feeling that painful ring of fire as your next child started to emerge. Using the last of your strength, you leaned forward, chin to your chest and you bore down, your voice strained as you struggled. You rested for a few seconds and you continued again, and within just another three hard pushes, you delivered your second child, its cry almost immediately joining its older twin.

You fell back against Sylus once more, completely spent both physically but also emotionally. Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against yours, his praises plentiful.

“Twins?” he questioned, amazed. He kissed your cheek. “Rest, my beloved, rest, I love you.”

Not too long afterwards, the afterbirths were expelled from your body. You were immediately tended to, cleaned and cared for and showered in endless praises for your remarkable feat. You smiled wearily, barely conscious and barely registering any of the competing voices in the room. You had never felt an exhaustion such as this one.

Perhaps it was because of the long, strenuous hours of labor, but it felt like you were drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to decipher what was a dream and what was reality. You were drained entirely, but you knew you could not sleep just yet. You didn’t want to go to sleep right now. You wanted to see your babies. Babies.

You opened your eyes wearily, sensing an approaching figure. You looked up, confused, when the midwife handed you the two swaddled babies. You nervously took them both into your arms, staring down in amazement at the two small red-faced newborns fussing and cooing quietly.

You let out a choked gasp, your tears barely held back as you smiled down at your children. Your children. How surreal, how sweet, those words sounded to you.

“Identical sons,” the matronly midwife said, praising you warmly, “You did well, child.”

She helped you adjust to holding your babies, patiently explaining to you everything you needed to know. When one of your sons started crying again, she helped guide both babies to your nipples, and you gasped softly at feeling both of your sons latching on and suckling hungrily for their first meal. You could feel your milk flowing, entering hungry little mouths. You half-laughed and half-sobbed, unable to even comprehend fully the current surreal situation.

You felt so overwhelmed. You had given birth to not one, but two babies, and they were identical boys. You were now a mother to identical twin boys. You just could not seem to register that thought no matter how many times you repeated it in your head. You looked up at Sylus, and he smiled back just as helplessly, also unable to wrap his head around the current situation.

“Thank you,” he murmured instead, kissing your lips. He smiled tenderly as you gazed at him wonderstruck. “My beloved bride, you have given me not one but two sons.” He kissed you more deeply, drawing out your soft moans. He kept you in his warm, protective embrace for just a few minutes longer as the midwives cleaned the room and prepared for their leave.

He peered down at you and his children, his smile unwavering. For Sylus, there was no greater treasure in the world than the three treasures he now held in his arms. For you and for his children, Sylus was willing to face Heaven and Hell’s wrath, to do everything in his power to keep his beloved family safe and protected.

As he watched you nursed his children, his hand reached up, his finger gingerly stroking one of the twins’ cheek. The baby’s skin felt so soft and smooth and delicate. He was enthralled that these two beautiful little babies came from you, that you had went through such an arduous trial to bring his children into the world, and now you cradled them protectively against your breasts, letting them suckled the precious milk your body was providing for the newborns.

He had never seen such beauty and strength as this, and so it seemed the only thing he could do was willingly let himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you, his beloved.

In the center of the hut, there was a firepit. Flames danced within the space, warming the quaint home.

It had been a few hours since you had given birth, and after making sure both you and the babies were taken care of, everyone had left, including Sylus, leaving you alone with just your sons.

It was still so dark outside. Dawn would not break for a few more hours, so you wondered absently where your husband could have gone this late in the night. You did not idle on those thoughts for too long, your attention focused entirely on the babies you had just birthed hours ago.

You sat up in bed, gazing in wonder at the two sleeping babies sharing the wicker bassinet, still in awe that these two little ones came from your body, conceived from the love between you and Sylus. You smiled as you watched your babies sleep, unable to ignore that they were indeed bigger than most babies born in the village, but not so drastically as many had you fearing for months. You chuckled to yourself, unable to fully fathom how these two babies were inside you just this morning, and now they were asleep right next to you.

One of the twins started hiccupping, breaking you out of your spell. Instinctively, you took him into your arms, carefully holding him over your shoulder. You gently patted his small back, softly comforting your son with soothing words.

“Motherhood looks lovely on you.”

You looked up when you heard Sylus’ voice as he entered the hut covered in a light dusting of freshly-fallen snow. You noticed he was carrying a basket of food in one hand and an extra bassinet in the other. There was also a fur blanket strewn over his shoulder. You raised a brow in confusion, and he chuckled in response.

“Everyone’s been so kind,” he explained as he set everything where they needed to be. He adjusted the second bassinet next to the first one before turning to face you. You handed him the baby in your arms, watching as he carefully placed the infant in his own bassinet.

Almost immediately, both babies started fussing and crying softly. You laughed quietly as you leaned in closer to Sylus, your arms wrapped around his. “They have never slept away from one another before,” you remarked, finding the situation heartwarming.

Sylus nodded, smiling softly. He helped you back into bed to rest before he knelt down on the ground between the two bassinets. He lightly rocked both bassinets at the same time, pleased when his sons calmed down, the gentle motion lulling them back to sleep.

As you lay on your side, watching this sweet scene, you felt so much love and joy in your heart. You yawned softly, and at Sylus’ gentle urging, you allowed yourself to succumb to sleep as well.

When you opened your eyes again a few hours later, you saw the two newborns tucked in Sylus’ arms as he cradled and rocked them while pacing around the hut. His deep, gentle humming was joined only by the warm crackling fire in the hut and the soft whistling winter wind outside.

You felt at peace, as if the world had quieted down. This moment in time felt so surreal, like a sweet dream you never wished to wake up from.

“I love you,” you found yourself saying sleepily, alerting Sylus.

He smiled back and walked over, settling down in bed next to you. You sat up, taking one of the babies from Sylus. You leaned closer to him, gentle eyes flitting back and forth between the two identical babies you both held with so much love and adoration.

Warmer than the fire, you heard Sylus’ gentle murmur, “I love you, too, my beloved.”

The years had rolled by on the grassland, life remaining, more or less, unchanged. This era of prosperity continued with the village now under Sylus’ leadership. You had seen six springs passed since your marriage to Sylus, and from this union, you two were blessed again and again and again.

The warriors are home! came the familiar words from the village and carried all the way down to the field where the sheep grazed.

“Mother, Mother, Father is home! Father is home!” your children ran by you barefooted, many already leaving you behind to rush to the village entrance.

Your twins helped you to your feet, and your hand settled on the large, round bump you carried once more. Another child was on the way. Your seventh.

Swaddled and resting on your back was your sixth, barely ten months old. He cooed happily, seemingly sensing his older siblings’ excitement. You smiled, always delighting in hearing your children’s sweet laughter.

You carefully made your way back to the village, listening fondly as your twins chatted and laughed. They were the spitting image of their father from head to toes, and while they inherited little of your physical appearance, they gained many of your mannerisms and quirks instead.

When you and the twins finally arrived at the village square, a crowd had already formed. After months apart, families were reunited again. This familiar scene had played out so many times before in the past, and yet you never tired of it. As always, there would be a celebration, for the glory and victories these brave men have brought home, but more importantly, to celebrate families reuniting once more.

As you and the twins treaded through the dense crowd, you saw your beloved husband towering in the center. Sylus already had his youngest daughter—barely three—sitting on his shoulders, her little legs swung over his shoulders and her small hands tugging at his hair happily. Your other daughter and son danced circles around their father asking for their turn to be held by him. You laughed softly as you witnessed Sylus’ overjoyed but helpless expression as he tried to accommodate his children.

At the sound of your familiar laughter, Sylus looked up. Seeing your approaching figure, his crimson eyes lit up with joy. He carefully set his daughter down to join her siblings. The twins immediately left your side and ran to their father cheering and already showering him with questions and praises. He greeted his sons affectionately, kneeling down to embrace all of his children and accept their kisses.

Your youngest son was now held in your arms, balanced on your hip as you stood in your place. You gazed at Sylus with the same love and joy as the spring when you had married him. Sylus slowly stood up, sighing blissfully as he took in the sight of you round and heavy again with his child.

“I’m home,” he said the familiar words warmly, and your heart swelled with happiness and love.

“Welcome home,” you responded fondly, smiling as he crossed the distance with just a few short strides. He gathered you into his arms, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and scent only he possessed. You sighed happily against him, only broken out of your daze when you heard your youngest son giggling. He squirmed against you as he held his little arms out for his father. You smiled as Sylus took the baby boy from you, easily holding him in one arm.

Beneath the azure sky, in his loving embrace, you remembered a story Sylus had once told, a memory that was yet to come. The sweet bell-like laughter of your children was carried on the playful wind across the luscious grassland. Surely this moment must be it, you thought, unable to fathom a greater happiness than this.

Sylus knelt down before you, his lips touching your growing belly fondly, his touch gentle and loving.

“My beloved.”

You looked down lovingly at your husband, your heart beating quietly for him as he gently guided your youngest son’s hand to your round belly. He spoke softly to the baby boy, his voice sweet and tender. Sylus looked up, the depths of his love for you reflected in his crimson eyes.

In this moment, you also recalled the elders had long ago told tales of a paradise after life, but you wondered how there could be a greater heaven than the one on the grassland with your lover—your destined half.

Sylus.

[ceoofsammonroe]

Steamy - Sam Monroe Smut

Summary: Sam has been your best friend since you were kids. When he starts avoiding you and acting strange, you decide to take matters into your own hands and things get steamy…

Warnings: penetrative sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (Sam receiving), handjob (Sam receiving), teasing, voyeurism, masturbation (Sam receiving), inexperienced!Sam, Sam finishes too fast, multiple orgasms (Sam receiving), thigh-fucking, nipple play?, slight dacryphilia, subby!Sam, edging, Sam whimpers a lot, maybe a smidge of degradation, Sam is down-horrendous.

Masterlist

Sam rested his forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall as he relentlessly fucked his fist. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to block out the guilt as his mind raced with perverted thoughts.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He hadn’t intended on showering in your bathroom as an excuse to touch himself. You had just decided to wear one of his old t-shirts today and that…that had sent him over the edge.

Sam had been fighting off these feelings for a long time. If he was honest with himself, they’d always been there. When you were kids, it was easier. He didn’t understand the mechanics of all of it. He just knew he liked being around you more than anyone else, so he spent all the time he could with you. You were best friends, after all. That was normal.

Then, puberty happened. You developed tits and he developed an innate need to see them, touch them, taste them, anything.

It was harder now. You were both in college and still spending all of your time with each other. Every waking moment of Sam’s was spent thinking of you, watching you, imagining all of the ways he wanted to be with you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be your friend — he loved being your friend. You were the only person in the world that ever actually saw him for who he was. It was just that he couldn’t escape these desires that grew stronger and stronger every time you smiled at him or batted your lashes or laughed or…

Yeah, he was fucked.

He knew that he needed to get his feelings for you in check. His biggest fear was doing some dumb shit to lose you. That’s why he’d been trying to create just a little distance lately. He only resorted to that when he felt like he wouldn’t be able to control himself around you. It just so happened that, lately, that was almost all of the time.

When he’d gotten to your place today, he had told himself that he wouldn’t let his attraction get the better of him — that he’d be normal — but, the minute he saw you in his shirt he felt like he could’ve melted into the earth. It was so cute, hugging your frame perfectly and just barely covering those tight ass shorts you had on underneath.

He’d tried to contain himself, he really had. He tried looking anywhere else but at you, tried thinking of every unsexy thing his mind could possibly dream up, but his efforts were all in vain. No matter what he did, his gaze would eventually wander back over to you. His mind would run wild with different scenarios. You in his shirt with nothing underneath. Him bending you over, lifting the material up just enough to take you from behind. Giving you more of his clothes to wear so that everyone knew you were his.

He hadn’t even realized how painfully hard he had gotten or how labored his breathing had become until you asked, “Are you alright, Sammy?”

Fuck, he almost came in his pants from the sweet sound of your voice as you said his nickname that he only allowed you to call him.

He felt his face flame as his eyes widened and he pulled the covers from your bed further over himself to make sure his erection was hidden.

“Y-yeah, fine,” he sputtered, trying to will himself to get a fucking grip.

“Are you sure?” you asked, reaching your hand out to touch his forehead. “You look flushed.”

He had to fight not to moan as your skin came in contact with his, so soft and tender. Your eyebrows were scrunched up in that adorable way they did whenever you were worried about him.

He wanted to see them scrunched up for other reasons, for all the pleasure he knew he could give you if you let him try. He wanted to hear you say his name like a plea of desperation, begging him for more, more, more.

“I think I just need to take a shower,” he muttered, quickly getting up and rushing to the bathroom before you could see any evidence of his arousal.

He paced in the bathroom, fisting at his hair as he tried to calm down. This was getting a bit pathetic. He couldn’t even be in the same fucking room as you without being embarrassingly close to coming untouched.

He stripped down, tossing his clothes to the floor as he stepped into the shower and shut the glass door behind him. He turned the water on to the coldest setting, cringing as he stood beneath it.

C’mon, this needs to work, he thought to himself as he shook from the cold. The icy water caused goosebumps to erupt on his skin, but did nothing to calm the raging hard-on that was still standing proud and aching. He groaned in frustration, hitting his head against the wall as he tried his best to fight off his arousal.

Finally, he gave in and wrapped his fist around his cock. He gave himself a few slow, guilt-ridden strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut. He hissed at the feeling, relief slowly flooding through his abdomen.

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. Touching himself to the thought of you was already bad enough, but touching himself to the thought of you while you were in the next room? If only you knew how fucked up he truly was. You’d never look at him again…

He fought the urge to moan at the thought of your hand replacing his, or better yet — your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip as he thrusted into his hand.

He needed to get this over with. He needed to handle his problem and get back out there before you started to suspect that something was wrong.

He was desperately chasing his release but, despite how badly he wanted it, his own touch wasn’t getting him there this time.

He needed more.

You had worn his shirt on purpose.

You were tired of him avoiding the situation — avoiding you.

It hadn’t taken you long to figure out why he’d been acting so strange lately. You’d noticed the way his eyes would linger on your form, the way his face would flush when you called his name, the way he’d try to discretely adjust himself in his pants when you’d get too close to him.

You’d always wondered why he’d never had a girlfriend. It wasn’t that girls didn’t desire him. He had just always been oblivious to their advances.

In actuality, you’d realized, he was just too focused on you.

You’d always harbored feelings for Sam. Ever since you were kids. He was your first childhood crush. You’d never told him, though, too scared that he’d tease you relentlessly for it. It wasn’t until lately that you realized those feelings had been reciprocated.

Once you’d made the realization, you’d started trying to push him further and further. You’d hoped that he would snap, finally admitting to you what he’d been feeling.

He never did, though. In fact, he did the opposite. He kept avoiding you, frustrating you to no end.

You huffed out a sigh, looking over at the clock on your bedside table. He’d been in the shower for almost twenty minutes. You gnawed on your lip, contemplating your next move.

Finally, with a newfound determination, you got up from your bed and walked toward your bathroom. You were tired of waiting for him to get the hint. He’d left you no choice. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

You opened the bathroom door, shutting it behind you as you called out, “What’s taking you so long in here, Sammy? I have to shower, too, ya know?”

Sam yelped, startled at your entry. You could only barely make out his figure behind the frosted glass, but it made your heart race nonetheless.

“J-Jesus, don’t you knock?” Sam sputtered, his voice laced with nervous energy.

“It’s my house,” you retorted, crossing your arms as you leaned against the sink.

You heard Sam sigh before he said, “I’ll be out in a minute just…give me a second.”

You began undressing before you could talk yourself out of it. This was a bold move, even for you, but you knew that Sam needed something to be shoved in his face for him to realize what was right in front of him.

“You’ve already been in here for twenty minutes and I have things to do later,” you grumbled, pretending to be inconvenienced. “I’m just coming in.”

“W-what?!” Sam stuttered, his voice nearly jumping up an octave.

You opened the glass door, stepping into the shower as you tried to appear nonchalant. Sam quickly covered himself with his hands, his entire body flushing red as he looked up at the ceiling to avoid looking at your naked frame.

You took this time to unabashedly look him over. His cupped hands only left little to the imagination. You bit your bottom lip, drinking in the sight of him. Arousal immediately began pooling between your thighs as you stepped underneath the water.

You yelped at the temperature, jumping back and adjusting the valve.

“Christ, Sammy, why the hell is it so cold in here?” you asked, despite knowing exactly why he’d been taking a cold shower.

“I-I just like it cold, okay?” Sam retorted, attitude biting with his words.

You turned the knob until the water ran hot, letting the steam fill the confines of the shower. You sighed, contentedly, stepping back under the water.

“Much better,” you breathed, practically moaning as the warm water washed away the tension in your muscles.

As the steam filled the air, Sam’s head was spinning. It was suffocating. He was surrounded by your scent. It took everything in him to keep his eyes glued to the ceiling. Even the glimpses he caught of your body from the corner of his eye were nearly enough to make him fall to his knees.

He had a difficult enough time keeping it together around you when you were fully clothed, how could he be expected to keep his composure when you were naked and wet a foot away from him?

He could feel his still-hard cock pulsing beneath his hands as he tried his best to cover himself. He felt like he’d somehow entered one of his wet dreams. Confusion and arousal fogged his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The two of you had never even seen each other naked, much less showered together.

He refused to let himself believe that this could mean that you wanted him the same way he wanted you. He wouldn’t give himself that kind of false hope. He could only pray that he’d be able to get through this without making a complete fool out of himself.

You reached for the shampoo, lathering it into your hair. You smirked when you heard Sam breathe in a little too deeply. Glancing back at him, he still had his head facing toward the ceiling.

“You don’t have to break your neck trying not to look at me,” you laughed, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. “It’s not like you’ve never seen tits before.”

“I’ve never seen yours…” Sam mumbled, quietly, a new blush rising to his cheeks.

“Mine are just like any others,” you shrugged, brushing your conditioner through your hair with your fingers.

Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from responding that nobody could be like you. He was fighting so hard to keep his gaze averted but now you were practically inviting him to look at you. Even on his strongest day, there was no chance he could pass up the opportunity. He’d just look once, he told himself. Just enough of a glance to embed the image into his brain for when he jacked himself off to the thought of you.

He took a deep breath before stealing a quick look over at you. He involuntarily squeezed his dick, trying not to come on the spot. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him for the way you’d look standing naked in front of him, water dripping from your body.

He forced himself to look up at your face instead of your tits — your goddamned perfect tits — but that didn’t help his situation in the slightest. Not when you were smirking at him like you were privy to some secret that he was not. Or when you were batting your lashes, sending water drops down your cheeks. Then you bit your lip and Jesus fucking Christ he felt every cell in his body burn at the sight.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way his eyes fought between looking at your face and looking at your chest. You could sense the stress he was putting himself through, and almost felt bad for what you were doing. You weren’t going to stop, though. Not when you finally had him right where you wanted him.

You moved to grab the bottle of soap, intentionally letting it fall from your grasp. Out of instinct, Sam reached out to catch it. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erection springing forward into view.

He was big. Bigger than you’d expected. He was hard and leaking, his tip red and aching. He followed your gaze down, his eyes widening as he realized what you were looking at. He quickly handed you the bottle of soap back, moving to cover himself again.

“You know,” you started, smirking as you poured the soap into your hand, “if you need to take care of that, you can. I don’t mind.”

“W-what?” Sam coughed, his face a deep shade of red. “No! No way.”

“It’s natural, Sammy,” you shrugged. “I do it all the time. Besides, it looks real painful. I won’t watch if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam wanted the earth to swallow him whole in that moment. He didn’t think his skin could burn any hotter than it was right then. You were teasing him, torturing him.

He didn’t know which part was worse — the way you said his name, the mental image of you touching yourself, or the attention you had paid to his predicament. His body felt like it was going to erupt into flames at any given moment.

You had to know. You had to. There was no way that all of this was just some random coincidence. The two of you had never breached that line of friendship and now, here you were, telling him to touch himself in front of you.

He couldn’t do that. There would be no coming back from that. There would be no way that he could recover. He’d come the minute he touched his dick if your eyes were on him, and how would he explain that?

However, you had said you wouldn’t watch…and he did really really need the relief…

Sam bit his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he contemplated his options. He knew that he shouldn’t, but the offer was so tempting…

“You promise you won’t watch?”

Your smirk grew as Sam gave in to his desires, just like you knew he would. You crossed your heart with your finger and Sam squeezed his eyes shut as his gaze was unintentionally brought back down to your chest.

Giggling, you turned back around to face the other side of the shower. You didn’t miss the way Sam’s eyes travelled down to your ass as you did. You began lathering the soap into your skin as you heard the wet sounds of his fist stroking his dick over the hum of the shower.

You bit your lip, focusing on the way he let little breaths escape him. You could imagine how hard he was trying to refrain from making any other noises. You wanted to hear him, wanted to know exactly how he was feeling.

Curiosity and the need to push him further getting the better of you, you asked, “Are you always this quiet when you jack off?”

He sucked in a breath and sputtered, “Jesus, fuck, you…you can’t talk to me right now.”

You stifled a giggle, feigning innocence as you said, “Why not, Sammy?”

“Don’t say my name,” he practically pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it would help,” you laughed, done beating around the bush. “Don’t you usually imagine me saying your name when you do this?”

You turned back around to face him, cocking your head to the side. His eyes widened and his hand stopped moving as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

Your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, chest flushed and heaving, his fist squeezed tightly around his erection.

“W-what…I don’t…I haven’t…” Sam stuttered, trying to come up with some kind of denial to your statement.

“Oh, come on,” you huffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m not oblivious and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

Sam’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Relax, Sammy, it’s okay,” you said, beginning to slowly lather the soap into your skin. “Keep going.”

“What?” He gulped, eyes shooting open as they focused on the way your hands moved across your body in an agonizingly tempting motion.

“Keep going, Sammy,” you repeated, not taking your eyes off of him.

He released a shuddered breath, licking his lips as his eyes locked back on yours. Slowly, he began to move his fist again.

His jaw fell slack as his gaze followed the motion of your hands, teasing him as you trailed suds across your chest. His hand moved faster, his eyelids fluttering as a strained noise sounded from his throat.

“Is this what you think about, Sammy?” you taunted, moving your hands lower down your stomach.

Sam gasped, nodding his head as he muttered, “Uh-huh.”

His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his hips thrusting into his fist. His hooded eyes were dark with desire as they traveled over your body. His movements became sloppy, his brows knitting together.

You could tell he was close, soft sounds involuntarily escaping his lips. His muscles were visibly tensing as his breaths started to come out in short spurts.

You’d had enough of being a bystander. Every nerve in your body was alight with desire and you wanted to close the distance between you two. You were done playing this game. If he was going to come, you wanted it to be by your hands.

Sam let out an involuntary whine of protest as you grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from himself. His eyes widened as you moved him until his back was pressed against the cold shower wall.

“W-what are you…what’s happening…oh, fuck.”

Sam’s questions were silenced the minute you pressed yourself against him. He gasped, clenching his fists by his side, seemingly using all of his restraint to keep from touching you.

He looked down at you, his gaze pleading and questioning as he asked, “What is this?”

“I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move,” you shrugged, grabbing his face.

His brows furrowed, confusion etched into his features. His mouth opened and closed, as if trying to form the words he wanted to say.

“Waiting for…what do you mean?”

“God, you’re so oblivious,” you mumbled, pulling his face down to yours and pressing your lips against his.

He immediately buckled, leaning into the kiss. He couldn’t help but groan into your mouth, a sound that betrayed the intensity of his arousal. The pressure building in his groin grew, his need growing at an unbearable pace. He arched his hips forward, desperate for contact. You pulled back, biting your lip as you peered up at him.

Sam held his breath, the moment teetering on the edge of ecstasy. His heart hammered so loud that it threatened to drown out the sound of the shower. His eyes were dizzy and unfocused as he looked down at you. This was both the most exhilarating and most terrifying moment of his life. The anticipation was agonizing, maddening.

You glanced down at his pouted lips, as if daring him to make a move. His tongue darted out, flicking across them as his gaze moved between your eyes and your mouth.

Finally, after working up the courage, he leaned forward. You grinned as you tilted your head back, keeping your lips just out of reach. He furrowed his eyebrows, releasing a shaky breath before trying again. You let his lips barely brush against yours before you dodged him again, smirking at the teasing game you were playing with him.

He looked at you with pleading eyes, desperation etched into his features, as a needy whine sounded in his throat. He whispered your name, fists tightening as every muscle in his body tensed with longing.

“Please,” he whispered, his jaw clenching with the effort to keep his composure.

With that one word, he completely crumbled your resolve. His eyes were dark and glassy with desire and unshed tears and you were prepared to give him anything he asked for.

You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him into a heated kiss. His lips immediately parted, devouring your own. He kissed you like he was starved, like you were his only source of oxygen after he’d been suffocating with need.

There was still a hesitancy in his actions, a part of him that was restraining himself. Whether it was out of fear or lack of knowledge, you didn’t hesitate to guide him.

Your fingertips trailed down his arms, causing him to shiver. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. He moaned into your mouth, his touch instantly beginning to wander.

The urgency in his kiss increased, his hands roaming your back, your sides, your legs. Years of built up tension came bubbling to the surface as you both began to drown in each other.

Sam’s voice was low and husky, barely coherent against your lips as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”

The pressure between his legs was a stinging reminder of his desperation. The need within him was leaking with each touch, each kiss. He reveled in the control you wielded over him. Sam’s mind was lost in a sea of lust. This was a moment he’d dreamed about for years. The thought of it was almost too much, the entire situation overwhelming.

You guided his hands up to your chest and Sam wasted no time in palming your tits. He squeezed gently, kissing you with blazing fervor. When his thumbs experimentally swiped across your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure against his lips.

Sam’s brain short-circuited the minute he heard your reaction. His hips surged forward, pushing his aching erection between your clenched thighs. He had been so worked up and the pressure provided just the right amount of friction. He gasped, letting out a strangled moan as he clutched onto you. His eyes rolled back as an orgasm ripped through him, instinctively continuing to thrust between the plush skin of your thighs.

Sam panted, slowly opening his eyes again as he came down from the high. His entire body flushed at the revelation of what had just occurred. He took in your amused expression, groaning in embarrassment as he buried his face into your neck.

You stifled a giggle, gently rubbing his back as you whispered, “It’s okay, Sammy. It happens.”

He whimpered against your skin, wrapping his arms around you. He was torn between wishing he could disappear, never having to face you again, and wanting to stay in this moment forever.

“Besides,” you smirked, leaning down to pepper gentle kisses across his shoulder, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam inhaled, sharply, his breath hot against your neck. His body instantly responded, his arousal already stirring again at the prospect alone.

You grabbed his face, lifting his head back up to meet his gaze. His cheeks were still tinged pink, bringing out the bright blue of his dilated eyes.

You traced his swollen lips with your thumb and asked, “Do you think you can do it again for me?”

“Mhm,” he responded, nodding eagerly. “I’ll do anything for you.”

You grinned, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Promise?”

He pulled you into him, closing the gap between you so that you couldn’t pull away again. He kissed you passionately, groaning as you bit down on his bottom lip.

“Promise,” he mumbled into the kiss, “anything you want.”

You reached up to grab his chin, tilting it to the side as you slowly kissed down his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, his body quivering at the tender attention. He cradled your head with a trembling hand, urging you on as your lips made their way across his skin.

Sam whimpered when you nipped at his pulse point, the hand in your hair tightening as you gently sucked a dark mark into the pale skin. You kissed across his chest, letting your hands run down his sides. He gasped as your teeth grazed over one of his nipples.

Your lips continued their descent down his body as you slowly sank to your knees in front of him. Sam let out a shaky breath, whispering your name as his legs nearly gave out.

You blinked up at him, water drops coating your lashes, as you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs.

“You’ll do anything I want?” you asked, kissing across his hips.

“Uh-huh,” he rasped, licking his lips as he nodded his head. “Anything you want. I swear it.”

Your mouth watered as you sat eye-level with his dick that was steadily twitching back to life. He gasped as you took him into your hand, his fists clenching tightly by his sides. You slowly began to stroke him, watching as he bit his lip to try and hold back the sounds threatening to spill from his lips.

“Then I want to hear how good it feels, Sammy,” you told him, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip.

“Shit,” he cursed, hardening again in your grip.

Your tongue traced a line up his shaft, slowly circling it around the head of his dick before taking him entirely into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, panting as he gripped the shower wall for support. “That’s…a-ah…that’s really good.”

The sight of you was overwhelming. He had only ever pictured you this way in his dirtiest dreams. You, on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock, gazing up at him like the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, peering down at you through hooded lids. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You watched his chest heave as you worked him, using your hand to cover what your mouth couldn’t fit. His fist was still tangled in your hair, but he didn’t dare attempt to control your movements.

Sam’s eyes rolled back as he felt himself hit the back of your throat, the sensation causing his hips to stutter. You swallowed around him and his entire body threatened to crumble. Strings of lewd moans and whimpers escaped his lips as his back arched off of the wall.

“Oh, god,” he panted, throwing his head back against the shower wall, “I’m…fuck…I’m gonna…”

You pulled off of him and he let out a whine, thrusting to desperately chase your lips. You grabbed his hips, holding them still as you rose back up to your feet.

“Why’d you stop?” Sam pouted, scrunching his eyebrows together in desperation. “I was so close.”

Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath it, as you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d want to stop before getting to be inside of me, but if you’d rather settle for my hands then I can keep going,” you taunted, cocking your head to the side.

“No,” he croaked out, his voice breaking off into a desperate moan at the mere thought of that privilege. “I wanna be inside you. Please, let me be inside of you.”

He clutched at you, pulling you into him as he crashed his mouth against yours. You immediately responded to the kiss, parting your lips and tasting his tongue with your own.

Without breaking the kiss, you pulled him forward and switched your positions so that your back was now pressed against the shower wall.

You reached down, grabbing his dick and stroking it as you lined it up with your entrance. He gasped, breaking apart to rest his forehead against yours. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked down between your bodies, watching you tease them finally joining together.

“Please, don’t keep teasing me,” he begged, his voice hoarse with need. “I can’t take it.”

You wrapped a leg around his waist and Sam held his breath, his mouth falling open as you guided his hips to slowly sheath into you. As his length filled you, stretching you out with a delicious burn, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan.

Once he was buried to the hilt, his hips flesh against your own, he finally released his breath in a strangled whimper.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes away from the sight of you wrapped around him.

“Fuck me, Sammy,” you whispered, watching as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

His breath hitched as he nodded, his body trembling with nervous anticipation. He pulled back, almost completely out of you, before pushing back in with a slow, experimental thrust.

You both gasped at the feeling, moaning into the shared air between your mouths. He repeated the motion again, familiarizing himself with the way your body practically pulled him in.

His thrusts got faster as his lips found yours again in a heated kiss. You clutched onto his shoulders for support, feeling every nerve in your body ignite in flames of pleasure.

“You feel so good,” you mumbled, arching into him. “Such a perfect fit.”

Sam groaned against your lips, his hips picking up the pace. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confessed, the dam of his emotions suddenly breaking as he fucked into you. “I-I dreamed about you, every day. You were all…ah…I ever wanted.”

“I know, Sammy, I know,” you panted, reaching up to kiss him again. “I’ve always felt the same way, you were just too blind to notice.”

He whimpered at the revelation, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He grabbed your waist, using it as leverage as his hips snapped up into yours.

“Fuck,” he whined, breathing out your name. “I-I’m getting close. I’m not gonna be able to last.”

“I need you to hold on just a little longer, Sammy,” you told him, earning a desperate whimper as his eyes grew glassy again.

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding his thumb to your clit. You moved it in slow circles, showing him how to touch you. He picked up the action quickly, moving his fingers on their own accord.

You moaned at the added stimulation, feeling Sam’s hips stutter as you squeezed around him. Ragged breaths wracked through him as he tried desperately to hold on for you.

“Wanna hear you, Sammy,” you prompted.

A single tear drop fell down his cheek from the sheer effort of keeping his climax at bay as he began to mindlessly ramble.

“You feel so good. Squeezin’ around me all tight and warm. Could just stay buried in you forever. Never wanna stop. I’ll do anything to satisfy you. Anything you want. I’ll get on my hands and knees if you ask me to. Just wanna make you happy. Just wanna keep feelin’ you like this.”

He kissed down your neck, needing to occupy his mouth. He buried his face against your chest, gasping and whimpering as his movements chased the high he desperately craved.

“No one else gets to have me like this,” you promised, feeling that familiar knot of pleasure tightening in the pit of your stomach. Each stroke of his thumb against your clit, paired with the tip of his dick repeatedly brushing that spot inside of you, pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re the only one I want, Sammy. The only one who can make me feel this way.”

He let out a strained cry against your skin, his fingers gripping the plush skin of your waist tighter.

“Please, I need to come,” he begged, the desperation making his voice raw. “I need it, baby, please.”

The sweet sounds of his pleading was the final thread that unraveled the knot.

“Come for me, Sammy,” you breathed.

You felt the white hot pleasure course through your veins as you tightened around him, feeling your climax wash over you in a tidal wave.

He came with a cry of your name, clutching onto you as he continued to thrust into you. His vision seemed to black out as he finally let go, giving you everything.

The world around you seemed to fade as you both came down from the mutual high. Sam’s body relaxed into yours, his hands still trembling as you both tried to catch your breath. You settled into a blissful haze, engulfed by the warmth of the shower.

You held him close to you, running your fingers soothingly through his hair as you smiled lazily, “You done avoiding me now?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, grinning sheepishly. He nuzzled into your neck, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Never gonna avoid you again.”

“Good,” you responded, “it would be a dick move to avoid your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Sam asked, his head snapping up as he looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Well, yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “Unless you’d rather this just be a one time thing.”

“No!” Sam interjected, quickly, shaking his head. “I want this to be an all the time thing. Every day. Multiple times a day, if possible.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling as you playfully shoved him. He laughed, his entire face lighting up with joy and relief as he hugged you to him.

“You know, it was kind of a creeper move to barge in on me in the shower,” he joked, looking down at you with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Hey, you were the one jacking off to me in my own house!” you argued, laughing as you poked his chest.

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before grabbing your face and sweetly kissing your lips.

He hummed softly and whispered, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

You beamed up at him, feeling your heart flutter in his embrace. You used up the remaining hot water to actually shower off, tending to each other as you did. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was how it was always meant to be.

Maybe it’s true what they say. Everything happens for a reason.

[didhewinkback]

how bad do you want me

a something old blurb inspired by the taxi pic but that pic was so sweet and this is definitely just filth

warnings: smut city baby; word count: 3k omg

---

“I’m home” he calls out from the hallway, the smile on his face growing when he hears the happy bark and your “we’re in here” call back.

He toes his shoes off and places his tote bag and jacket on the hook, shaking off the day. He feels good, there is nothing quite like a good day in the studio, when the creative juices are flowing just right, the music seeming to fly right off the page, his pen not able to move fast enough to capture the lyrics pouring out of him. Almost felt like divine inspiration but he knows the source of it, knows on the good days when everything’s working all he has to do is think about you and his mind instantly waxes poetic.

Images of you have flown through his head all day, - you in that wedding dress and you out of it, you dancing against him at that bar in Japan, you sunbathing on the beach in St. Tropez. Making him feel like he was burning from the inside out as couplets and sonnets and bridges poured from his brain. Knowing he could write about you everyday for the rest of his life and it still wouldn’t be enough but what a privilege to get to try anyway. 

He’s thrumming with the unreleased energy, the euphoria of a good session, the thrill of getting to go home to his muse. The new melody flowing through his head as he heads towards the tv room, his buoyant steps interrupted by the oaf of a dog greeting him halfway. 

“Hi sweet boy,” he coos, bending down to scratch at Sammy’s back, to accept his kisses as he greets him, tail wagging and body shaking. “Yeah yeah yeah, missed you too, you big oaf.” 

He presses a few kisses to his head and scratches his fingers against the dog’s scalp before standing up and heading through the doorway, having to lean against it at the sight of you on the couch. Hair still damp from a shower, long, bare legs stretched out against the pillows, wearing nothing but an old t shirt of his. He has to clench his fist to keep himself from just diving on top of you, swallowing to try to combat the way his mouth has just gone dry. Knowing all the songs in the world couldn’t capture just quite how he feels right now, looking at you. His wife. 

“Hi.” you say softly, smiling over at him, the glow of the tv making your face already more incandescent than it usually is. “Good day?”

He should answer, should attempt to string some sentences together but he just nods and makes his way over to you as quickly as his feet can carry him, kneeling one leg on the couch in between your thighs as his hand brushes along your cheek, cupping the back of your neck and he bends down to kiss you.

It should be soft, gentle, a greeting kiss for the first time you’ve seen each other since this morning but it’s instantly carnal, his tongue diving into your mouth when you gasp, the hand on the back of your neck tightening as he kisses you deeply, hungrily trying to explore every inch of your mouth. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before pulling away to press his lips against your jawline, dipping down to swirl his tongue against your neck.

“Good session?,” you ask breathlessly and he hums against your skin, biting down when you roll your hips up against his. You slide your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp as he continues his ministrations, knocking his hat off in the process. “Didn’t even take your hat off.”

“Needed you,” he mumbles, shifting so both his knees are on the couch, hovering over you as he brings his mouth back to yours, swallowing down your soft moan as his hand trails down your side, sliding up your t-shirt to clutch at your skin. He makes to move down your body when a soft whine coming from decidedly not you makes him pause. He groans, resting his head against your collarbone when you laugh.

“When was the last time he was out?” he grits out, feeling like he might die if he has to detach himself from you in any capacity. 

“Like 20 minutes ago.” you say, your hands sliding along the front of his sweater and pulling him in closer to you and he almost moans in gratitude.

“Alright, Sammy.” he says, turning to the dog laying patiently at the edge of the rug and lifting a hand to point to the bedroom where his dog bed lays. “Gonna need you to go into the other room, pal. ‘M about to do some things to your mom that may scar you for life.” 

You groan out a laugh as his genius boy, who's going to get so many treats after this, more treats than he will ever know what to do with, stands up and pads away, leaving the two of you alone.

“Dog’s a genius.” he says

“Can’t believe you just told him that,” you laugh and he grins, turning back to you and his breath catches in his throat. 

Your kiss swollen lips, the way you shake your head at him but that does nothing to soften the molten look in your eyes. He leans down to kiss you once before pulling away, pressing his mouth against your jaw, your neck, sliding down your body until he’s laying on his stomach, his head resting against your belly, his shoulders between your thighs. His knees are gonna be fucked tomorrow, bent at a weird angle but who cares when he’s got you looking at him like that, smelling this good. 

He closes his eyes, pressing a kiss to your stomach against the t-shirt still laying across it before pushing the hem up with his hands, his lips following his hands until the shirt rests right above your chest. He drags his lips against your breasts, sliding his hands down to your hips and squeezing when you let out a soft moan. 

“Thought about this all day,” he murmurs against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at your nipple before sucking it into his mouth in a smooth pull. He kisses across your chest before giving the other nipple the same treatment, fingers scratching against your skin when your hips buck up on their own accord. He kisses his way down, pausing at your stomach, licking a stripe across your skin before sucking a mark at your hip bone, the soft sounds coming out of your mouth making him feel like he’s on fire. A symphony he never tires of.

He rests his chin against your hip, looking up at you, the way you’re shakily breathing, staring up at the ceiling, your arms over your head, your shirt pushed up. You look back down at him, looking so gorgeously overwhelmed just from his mouth on your skin that he’s not sure he’s ever felt better about himself in his life. He did that, he does this to you. He has this effect, the same way you do to him. What a fucking gift to give someone as much pleasure as they give you. 

“Y’ so beautiful, you know that?” he practically growls out and he can see your heavy swallow, your tongue darting out to lick at your dry lips. “Got to spend all day writing songs about it. About how good you make me feel. Y’ make me feel so good.”

“H - jesus”, you gasp out as his mouth continues its trail down your skin, his hands sliding down your thighs and back up, a pattern that makes you whine. He could draw this out, could keep sucking marks into your skin, cataloging every moment that your hips twitch, but he knows if he doesn’t get his mouth on you now he’s going to lose his mind. His fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, body doing a weird half press up to pull them all the way down your legs, kneeling at your feet as he pulls them all the way down your ankles and throws them on the ground. 

He pulls your ankle up to his mouth, his lips dragging against the skin of your calf, pausing to suck a mark on his way up as he lowers his body back down, hooking your leg over his shoulder as he drags his teeth against your skin.

“Wanna taste you, he murmurs, sliding down your body as he comes face to face with your core. “Want you all over my stache. Want to be able to smell you for days” 

A moan punches out of you at that, hips twitching towards his touch, his mouth and he just takes a moment to take you in, all of you. 

“Fucking - christ, baby,” he groans at the sight of you, how ready you are for him, just from his mouth on your skin. “I got y’ this wet?”

“Please,” you moan out, chest heaving and he has to rut against the couch to take the heat off, the arousal pooling in his stomach almost enough to make him shoot off right there at the sight of you like this. His eyes trail up and down your body, trying to catalogue everything to memory, knowing he’ll have inspiration for the next hundred sessions from the way you’re breathing, the way your body reacts to his touch and the guttural moan you let out when his mouth finally connects to where you need him the most. 

It’s sloppy and messy from the start, his tongue sucking your clit into his mouth in heady pulls, going harder when your hand slides into his hair and pulls as he licks a trail up and down your core. He presses soft, deep kisses against you, taking his time in a way you were not prepared for if the way your thighs shake against his shoulders are any indication. He slides his hands up your thighs, pulling you apart gently with his fingers to give his mouth more room, licking a trail down to your entrance, tongue darting inside to taste all of you. Living for the way you throw your head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as you roll your hips up into his mouth.

“H, I’m -”

“I know baby, I know.” he mumbles against you, giving you another hard suck that makes you cry out. “Always know just what you need, baby. Always gonna give it to you.”

He slides two fingers into you, deep from the start and your leg kicks out, foot knocking against his back and he doesn’t care, he wants to feel all of it, all of you. He’s a man possessed as he closes his eyes, focusing on nothing else but the feel and taste of you, his favorite taste in the world, the way you’re practically gushing into his mouth and he hasn’t even gotten you there yet. 

You’re out of words, he can hear you trying to speak but its just sounds at this point, and the thrill in reducing you to this state is indescribable. His fingers curl inside you just like you always like it as his nose nudges against your clit before he sucks it into his mouth, running his tongue up and down in a senseless pattern thats only goal is to make you scream. He can feel it before you try to warn him, the way you’re clenching against his tongue, moaning loud, pulling on his hair as your thighs tense against his head and you come, hard, moaning out a chant of his name over and over. 

He doesn’t let up, not yet, continues to drive his fingers into you, continues to taste as much of you as he can and you’re practically writhing against the couch, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re coming again, practically reduced to whimpers and he has to open his eyes, has to see the sheen of sweat against your forehead, your chest heaving as you gasp for breath, your blown out eyes as you tilt your head down to look at him. 

He presses more soft kisses to your core until you’re practically tugging his head away and dragging his head up to your mouth, kissing him deep the moment he’s close enough, the twist of your tongue against his, the way you’re practically leaning into your taste on his lips has him groaning into your mouth, his mustache rubbing against your skin in a way that seems to make you lose your mind, his hips rutting against yours in a way that makes you both hiss. 

“H, come on - need you -” you’re murmuring half completed sentences against his mouth as your hands slide to the hem of his sweater and pull - he leans away from you for all of two seconds to yank it over his head before his fingers find your jaw, tilting your mouth back to his. You start to tug at the waistband of his trousers before he gets the message, the desperation in your movement pulling him closer to the edge than he already feels. 

He pulls his trousers and briefs down in one go, standing up to shuck them all the way off and freezing in place when he looks down at you, sprawled naked against the couch with your thighs splayed wide. You lift up to pull your shirt over your head and to pull him back down, neither of you speaking, mouths dragging across each other’s skin as he guides himself into you.

“Fucking hell,” he grits out against your neck, biting down as he thrusts all the way in, one smooth push that has your hands sliding down his back to grip his arse. It’s tight, hot, wet, swollen heat, so wet and smooth he has to shut his eyes tight against the sensations flowing through him. “Baby I’m - shit. Not gonna last -”

“Don’t care,” you sigh as you guide his hips into yours again, your legs tightening around his as he fucks into you. He can’t help the moans spilling out of his mouth, would feel self conscious about how quick this is going to be but there’s no time to feel anything but you. The slide of your skin against his, the way you’re clenching down around him, the feel of your nails scratching up and down his back. It’s like you’re the only two people on the planet, nothing else matters but the slick feel of you around him, no thoughts in his head but how fucking good this feels, how fucking good it always feels with you. 

“I love you,” you moan out, as if reading his mind and a full body shudder runs through him as he tries to hold himself back, tries to make this last longer but he’s done for at the sound of your sweet voice in his ear, saying his favorite three words he’s ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth, still in disbelief that you’re saying them to him, that you vowed to say them to him for the rest of your life. “I love how you make me feel.”

“Baby, please -” he shushes you desperately as he licks his way into your mouth, your words pouring down his throat like the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted. Everything he’s ever wanted. 

“Want you to come,” you murmur as you pull away, his nose nudging against yours with every thrust, your hands sliding against his sweaty skin. “Want you to come inside me.”

The moan that escapes him seems to come from the depth of his core as white hot heat surges through him, giving two thrusts more before he comes inside you, teeth biting down on your neck, going to leave a mark but he doesn’t have time to worry about that, not when he feels this good. His body shaking with aftershocks as he punches his hips gently a few more times, unable to control the euphoria flowing through him. God, the way you make him feel. 

He practically collapses on top of you and you just bring your arms around him, both of you panting hard to catch your breath, the onslaught of emotion and feeling taking you both by surprise. It takes a few moments before he’s even able to move, tilting his head up to capture your mouth, kissing you softly, languidly, like he doesn’t know how to stop. Nor does he ever want to. 

You lay there for a while, soft moans pooling into each other’s mouths as you come down, hands sliding up and down your bodies, sweat cooling on your skin. He’s reluctant to move and it’s only when your kisses slow down in their ferocity does he shift, gently sliding out of you as he continues to drag his lips against yours before pulling away, pressing his mouth against your jaw and temple and burying his head into your neck. You run your hand gently through his hair as his hands slide up and down your sides, pausing every so often for a cheeky squeeze, a thumb grazing your nipple, his hand gently cupping your breast. Just wanting to be as close as possible for as long as possible, intertwining his legs with yours. 

“Am I crushing you?” he asks softly, his voice almost hoarse from all the sounds he’d been making. 

“Kinda like it,” you say and he huffs a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to your neck before sitting up. You instantly whine at the loss of contact.

“Hang on, darling. Just gonna -” he wraps his arm around you, pulling you with him as he lays back on the opposite end of the couch, rearranging for a few moments before you’re resting against his chest, his arm holding you securely to him, pressing his head against your hair and just breathing you in. You draw a finger up and down his chest, just drawing mindless patterns against his skin in a way that feels so nice. 

“Studio was that good, huh?” you ask, and he can feel your smile against his skin.

“Y’ can’t expect me to spend all day writing songs about you and not have to instantly get my hands on you.” he says, reveling in the way you shiver against him and he feels insatiable. He starts to mimic you, bringing a hand to draw light patterns across your chest, fingers slowly sliding down your belly and resting low. 

“What are you up to?” you murmur softly, not much fight in the question as you lean into his touch. 

“Just want to love on you some more, baby.” he says softly, sliding his fingers through your folds, circling your entrance and the mess there, living for every twitch and clench he can feel. “Let me hear some more of my favorite sounds.”

You tilt your head up, capturing his lips with yours as you gasp against his mouth as he starts to fuck his fingers back into you, moaning at his gentle touch. He revels in it, revels in you, revels in the sounds you make. His favorite song, the melody he’s always chasing. Loving how you make him feel, how you make each other feel, how you get to do this for the rest of your lives. He could write a million songs about this, about you, and he just might. How lucky is he?

---

that pic just did something to me okay !!!! blame the pic and the amount of espresso i had, i think this is the smuttiest thing i have written yet. hope u like it pls lmk what u think

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[chxrrywines]

₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader

a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3

cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.

If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.

Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.

It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.

Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.

“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”

If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

It was becoming torturous.

Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.

Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.

“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.

Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”

“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”

She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”

She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.

“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”

Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.

“Yeah.” She whispered.

Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”

He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.

Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.

Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”

Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.

It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.

She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.

“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”

It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.

“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”

She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”

She nodded again.

“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.

[wendichester]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hands on,

summary. you and sam have been best friends for years. but there's a restless feeling... always there... always lingering.

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. steamy

wordcount. 489

notes / warnings. steamy make out with sammy!

The tension has been there for years.

Late nights, cheap motel rooms, stolen glances across dingy bars. It’s in the way Sam’s fingers brush against yours when he hands you a beer, the way his voice drops just a little when he says your name. The way you feel him in a room before you even see him.

But you’ve never crossed that line—never let yourselves go there.

Until now.

The hunt is over, and you’re both wired—adrenaline still thrumming through your veins as you step into the bunker’s kitchen. You should be exhausted, but sleep is the last thing on your mind.

Sam’s already there, leaning against the counter, nursing a beer. His shirt is still damp with sweat, sticking to the hard lines of his chest, and he watches you with that unreadable expression—the one that always makes your stomach flip.

“You good?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, stepping closer. “Yeah. Just… still coming down.”

His lips twitch, like he knows exactly what you mean. “Yeah. Me too.”

The air thickens between you, something electric crackling in the space that should exist—but doesn’t, because you’re already too close.

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s inevitable.

One second, you’re staring at each other, and the next, you’re backed against the counter, Sam’s hands braced on either side of you. His body is warm, solid, right there.

His eyes flick down to your lips, and you swear you see his resolve snap.

“You have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is rough, laced with something dark and hungry.

Your breath catches. “Why don’t you tell me?”

His jaw tightens, like he’s still trying to hold on to some last shred of control. But you both know it’s useless.

You don’t wait. You don’t hesitate. You grab the front of his shirt and pull.

The second his mouth crashes against yours, it’s over.

It’s teeth and tongue, desperate and messy, years of tension unraveling in a single kiss. His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair like he’s starved for this.

You moan against his lips, and he curses, lifting you onto the counter in one smooth motion. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, closer.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your throat, his hands gripping your thighs like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging over hot skin. “Then what took you so long?”

His laugh is low, dangerous. “I was trying to be good.”

You smirk, rolling your hips against him, feeling the sharp inhale he takes in response.

“Don’t hold back now, Winchester.”

And from the way his hands tighten on your body—the way his mouth claims yours again—you know he won’t.

Not tonight. Not ever.

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[lacydollette]

TOP SECRET ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!sam x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, pure smut, lots of teasing, touching in public, dean being fed up with you two, explicit language, exhibitionism, degradation, praise, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, nsfw 18+

“oh god, sammy..” you whined out as Sam’s strong hands held your hips down while he buried himself deeper inside you, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. “that’s it, hun. doin’ so good, y/n.” sam growled against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as your cunt sucked him in eagerly, the feeling driving both of you insane.

As you felt yourself getting close to releasing and relax into his touch, sam kept on repeating your name. At first he growled it, the letters falling from his lips breathlessly, but then it turned more serious. and just then his voice faded, words softening. Suddenly it was Dean’s voice that was calling your name, over and over again, trying his best to get you out of whatever daze you were currently in.

Your cheeks flushed as you snapped back to reality, your vivid daydream evaporating like smoke. You blinked, taking in the scene; the sticky vinyl booth, the diner's bright red led lights, and the faint smell of grease and coffee. Dean was glaring at you across the table, his arms crossed and his face filled with impatience.

"Have you even been listening?" Dean asked again, clearly irritated. You nodded quickly, even though you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Your heart was still racing from the spicy fantasy of Sam—his lips on yours, his big hands on your body. And yet, there he was, sitting right infront you in his perfectly tailored FBI suit, his slicked-back hair making him look like a walking daydream.

Of course he always looked unbelievably good, but today something about him was driving you insane. Maybe it was the suit, maybe the way his cologne mixed with the natural musk of his skin, or maybe it was the way he'd been stealing subtle glances at you all morning, his hazel eyes warm and inviting. Dean let out a heavy sigh. "This case isn't gonna solve itself, you know."

Before you could respond, you felt Sam's hand sneak under the table, his large, warm palm resting on your bare thigh. Your breath hitched as his fingers gave your leg a gentle squeeze, his touch sending heat to your core. You turned to him, and the corners of his mouth curved up into a sweet, knowing smile that made your heart flutter. "Sorry, Dean," Sam said, his voice soft but laced with amusement. "We're focused. Right, y/n?"

"Y-yeah," you stammered, voice a little breathless. You tried to compose yourself, but the arousal pooling between your legs made it nearly impossible. How could you focus on some boring small-town case when Sam was sitting so close to you, his touch and presence making you crave him more with every passing second?

Dean groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. "Can you two keep it in your pants for five minutes? Just until we talk to the sheriff?" You couldn't help but smirk, leaning over the table. "Sorry, Dean. We're just really in love," you teased, voice dripping with playful sarcasm as you pressed a sweet kiss to your boyfriends lips.

"We'll behave," Sam promised, though the mischievous glint in his eye told you otherwise. Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure you will."

As the three of you finished your coffee and pie, Dean quietly grumbled about "unprofessional behavior" while you and Sam exchanged sweet smiles and secret touches, it was all so thrilling.

As soon as you walked into the police station you were greeted by the sheriff, a stocky man with a thick mustache. He was quick to give you a rundown on the case, deeply buried into the files. You tried your best to focus as the sheriff pulled out more photos of the crime scene and directed you all to the security footage room, but your mind was stubbornly uncooperative.

All thanks to Sam. He made it almost impossible to focus.

At first, it was subtle; his hand lightly brushing yours as you flipped through witness statements. Then, as you leaned over a desk to examine a video log, he moved closer, letting his hand settle on the small of your back. The heat of his palm burned through your shirt, sending a wave of desire through you. When he spoke to you, his voice low and close to your ear, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You tried so hard to suppress the images that flooded your mind—Sam gripping your hips, hands so eagerly pulling on your clothes, his weight pressing you against the wall—but they wouldn't stop. You could feel the tension building between you with every touch, like an electric shock, your skin tingling with the anticipation of his next move. And then it happened again.

Sam leaned over your shoulder to look at a monitor, his muscular chest brushing against your back, his breath warm against your neck. It was just too much. You clenched your jaw, determined to stay professional, but the way your body reacted to him made it clear that you weren’t going to win this game.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and addressed Dean and the officers. "Excuse me, but I need to talk to my partner in private," you said, voice calm but firm. Dean raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical, but he didn't have time to question you. “Fine," he muttered, turning back to the sheriff. "But make it quick."

You immediately grabbed Sam by the hand and tugged him down the hallway, ignoring his surprised chuckle. "y/n, what's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. "You'll see," you said curtly, your tone leaving no room for argument. You quickly scanned the corridor, eyes locking on a small janitor's room at the end. Perfect.

You pulled him inside, shut the door, and locked it in one fluid motion. Before Sam could say another word, you turned and crashed your lips against his hungrily, pulling him even closer by his tie.

Sam responded instantly, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed you against the door. His lips moved with yours, fierce and passionate, and his hands roamed your body, exploring curves he knew by heart. He groaned against your mouth, and the sound sent shivers down your spine. "Baby, wait—" he murmured, his voice thick as he pulled back a little. "Are you sure about this? Here?"

"Sam," you whispered, your hands clutching his shirt as you kissed him again. "I need you. now." Of course you both knew it was hella risky, but it only heightened the thrill. The station was full of cops, Dean included, and the thought of someone walking in on the two of you only added to the excitement.

Your hand slid down to his belt, and you felt him shudder under your touch. You could tell that Sam's control was slipping, and you loved it. As he let his pants drop to his ankles you could already see the bulge in his boxers, his cock springing free immediately after you pulled them down.

He was rock hard, precum already dripping from the tip. You were just about to reach for it when he suddenly pushed up your skirt, the fabric sitting on your waist as he swept you off your feet, earning a deep growl from Sam as he realized that you weren’t wearing any panties. “You planned this, didn’t you?” He smirked, fingertips brushing over your already dripping folds, making you moan.

Sam was quick to line himself up with your cunt, running the head of his cock through your folds to coat himself in your arousal. Pressing his lips to yours he tried to muffle out your moans as he pushed himself inside, your tight walls embracing him perfectly.

“Fuck, sammy. You’re so—“

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He muttered into the crook of your neck as his hips slowly started to rock back and forth, taking long and deep thrusts. You whimpered, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as he kept you pressed against the cold metal door.

You tried so hard to keep quiet, but the way he was talking to you so softly while ramming himself inside your weeping cunt with an ungodly force, made it almost impossible.

“Shit—you have to keep quiet or someone might hear.” Sam whispered into your ear, which immediately send filthy images to your head. The thought of someone actually walking in on you two was crazy, yet it made your cunt clench harder around Sam, the sudden tightness making him go insane.

“Fuck, you would like that, wouldn’t you? Someone hearing your pathetic little whimpers, or seeing what a cockdrunk slut you are, letting your boyfriend fuck you in public.”

You couldn’t even respond to his words, your brain going all fuzzy, while his desperate thrusts send you into a state of bliss, knowing that you weren’t going to last long. His arm wrapped itself around you tighter, holding you in place as he thrusted into you mercilessly, chasing after his own release.

“S-sam!” You moaned out, the band in you stomach snapping and your orgasm rushing through you, your walls squeezing his cock tightly. Just then you felt him twitch inside you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and moaning out as hot ropes of cum filled your plush walls. “Shit..”

Your legs nearly gave out as he removed himself from you, his arms still keeping you steady as both of you tried to catch your breath, your body twitching. “You okay, hun?” He asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You just nodded, the palms of your hands still resting against his chest. “Mhm, I’m good.”

You watched Sam pull up his pants, buckling the belt before he helped you pull down your skirt, holding onto his shoulders before carefully stepping out of the room.

As the door to the janitor’s room clicked shut, you and Sam tried to compose yourselves. You smoothed down your shirt and ran your fingers through your tousled hair, while Sam tugged at his tie, attempting to make it look as if you hadn’t just fucked in the middle of a police station.

“Do I look okay?” You asked, glancing up at Sam. Your lipstick was smudged, cheeks flushed, and your hair was still sticking up in all four directions. Sam chuckled softly, his hazel eyes glinting with affection. “You look beautiful, but you might want to…” He gestured to your lips. You quickly wiped at your lipstick, laughing quietly. “You don’t look too put together yourself, mister.” You reached up to fix his tie, fingers brushing against his chest in the process.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway suddenly snapped you out of your shared moment. You turned to straighten your jacket as Sam ran a hand through his hair. Just as you two stepped into the corridor, looking as innocent as you could, Dean rounded the corner.

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking in your guilty appearances. Your slightly messy hair, Sam’s crooked tie, and both of your flushed faces told him everything he needed to know. His eyes narrowed, and his lips twitched in what could only be described as a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean said, crossing his arms as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me you two didn’t just do what I think you did. In a janitor’s closet? At a freaking police station?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Dean said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because walking out with your hair looking like that and Sam looking like he lost a wrestling match with his tie is totally normal.” Sam cleared his throat, his expression somewhere between sheepish and amused. “We just needed a moment to… strategize.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter, throwing his hands in the air. “Strategize? Is that what we’re calling it now?” You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “You’re one to talk, Dean. Don’t act like you haven’t done worse.”

“Not while we’re in the middle of a case!” Dean shot back, though his smirk betrayed his annoyance. Sam failed to suppress a grin, his hand resting lightly on your back. “Sorry, Dean. It won’t happen again.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure it won’t. And I’m the Pope.”

You couldn’t resist a mischievous smile as you leaned into Sam, voice soft but just loud enough for Dean to hear. “He’s just jealous he doesn’t have anyone to strategize with.” Dean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Can we please focus on the case now?”

You and Sam exchanged a quick glance before nodding in unison. “We’re focused,” you said together. Dean shook his head as he turned on his heel, muttering something that sounded like “idiots” under his breath. As the three of you walked back to the investigation room, you couldn’t help but feel a little victorious. Sure, you had a case to solve, but sometimes a little detour was worth it—especially when it involved Sam.

links: sam masterlist

tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @deansbite @figthoughts @nuemanfilms @sammyluvr @deansenvy @rubyvhs @samwinchesterswifu @mxltifxnd0m @chevroletdean @cosmicanakin

[cuteandhughesy]

Baby Please Come Home | Vince Dunn

summary: you used to have a crush on your best friends older brother even though you’re pretty sure he wasn’t that fond of you—that is until he breaks your heart after he kisses you during a game of spin the bottle. years later, when your parents flight gets canceled while they’re away on holiday, you are graciously invited to spend the christmas holiday with your best friends family - vince and his sour attitude included.

[word count] 20.5k

warnings: NSFW! enemies to lovers | slow burn| best friends older brother | angst | rude!vince | alcohol | mature themes | kissing | smut | thigh riding | grinding | unprotected!p in v intercourse | read at your own discretion!

a/n: the beginning of cute and hughesy’s christmas special! hope you enjoy the first week 🎄

🎵christmas (baby please come home) by mariah carey

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2014: freshman year of highschool

the noises around you are distracting - a mixture of loud laughter and singing, combined with the bass riddled music vibrating through your bones on top of the various conversations happening around you.

you eye the mingling crowd around you, watching as teenagers older than you easily chat to one another. they don't look worried or anxious - they look nothing like you're feeling.

"I didn't think they still played games like this in highschool." you best friend sammy says into your ear, her tone hushed as to not attract attention to either of you.

"me either." you admit gently. "but clearly they do."

she huffs, crossing her arms over her red top. sammy has been your best friend since the first grade when her mom and dad moved their family down the street from yours. obviously you both attended the same small town school, and since then you two have been inseparable.

sammy has always been the type of girl that everyone loves. she's the sweetest soul you've ever known, but she's not afraid to stand up for herself and tell somebody off if they need to hear it. not only does she have the most amazing personality, but she's ungodly beautiful. with her thick and shiny dark hair, as well as her naturally tinted lips, and long lashes framing her large, green eyes - she's ethereal.

ever since the two of you started your freshman year of high school four short months ago, she has been getting lots of attention, especially from the senior boys. to be ultra specific, the high school hockey team in particular was the most fond of sammy - regardless of how she was related to the assistant captain.

much to sammy's older brother vince's dismay, the hockey team had invited sammy to this party that the two of you were currently at. you weren't technically extended an invitation, but sammy would've never gone to her first high school party without you - so here you both are.

you don't know what you were expecting at a high school party. sure, the alcohol and weed was something that was a given, but sitting on the floor with various hockey players and senior girls while you all took turns spinning a bottle - well that was surprising.

the game of spin the bottle happening in front of you was definitely the cause of your growing nerves. because not only did you have to spin the bottle and kiss whoever it landed on - but you and sammy were informed you'd be spending '7 minutes in heaven' with said person, where the kiss would actually take place, rather than infront of everyone.

so that had your nerves dampening slightly - but the kissing part of it all was still having you feeling anxious - the mere fact that you haven't had your first kiss yet was the main contributor.

"do you think jake and I will end up in the closet?" sammy giggles softly, her eyes drifting to the other side of the circle where jake matthews is chatting with vince, leisurely sipping his beer - paying no mind to the game happening right in front of him.

you shrug, your eyes also trained in their direction. "well if he spins and It lands of you - those are the rules right?"

sammy then starts to get giddy like she usually does when thinking and talking about jake matthews and she immediately starts whispering to you about how he's her future husband and how much she's in love with him.

at the same time, as if he can feel your stare from the other side of the circle, vince's eyes flicker to yours. thankfully his conversation with jake doesn't stop because jake is the one who's doing most of the talking, so nobody takes notice to the way vince is looking at you.

sammy's words are falling on deaf ears unbeknownst to her - the gaze you are locked in with her brother has completely captivated your attention.

like usual vince doesn't smile or acknowledge you in any way, he just keeps his eyes on you, almost as if he was assessing you through the strangers dimly lit living room.

you squint at him accusingly - as if to ask what's his deal. you're not expecting any type of response because you've never gotten one from vince in regards to his grumpy persona - the grumpy persona he seems to only have around you.

"are you listening?" sammy elbows you in the side. your black knitted sweater provides no cushion as her elbow smacks against your ribs, and it effectively has you breaking eye contact with vince.

"what?" you hiss, rubbing your side.

"it's your turn." sammy's eyes widen and her gaze frantically switches between you and the empty beer bottle sitting in the middle of the carpet.

you can feel your face pale and heat up all at the same time. it shouldn't be as big of a deal as you feel it is - but you can't help your mind and heart from racing, your blood pumping loudly through your ears.

almost everyone in the circle was looking in your direction, waiting for you to take your turn.

"right." clearing your throat, you push up off your butt and do an awkward crawl combined with a reach to grab ahold of the empty bottle.

you give it a good spin, watching it swivel with momentum on top of the fuzzy textured rug. you move back into your seated position, not once taking your eyes of the direction of the spinning glass.

it slows and only makes it around one more complete circle before stopping. when sammy gasps quietly and the group all wolf whistles around you, your nerves max out. you don't want to look up and find who your spin has landed on - you're scared to see who it landed on and the reaction around you wasn't helping.

reluctantly you follow the direction of the bottles neck, looking upwards until you are met with the familiar green eyed gaze of your best friends older brother.

your face falls in shock - mimicking the expression on vince's face who too looks very unimpressed with the outcome of your bottle spin.

you attempt to spin again, asking if it was possible with these seemingly strict rules set by the hockey team - but no. much to your and vince's dismay nothing works and you're both ushered into one of the empty bedrooms for your required '7 minutes in heaven.'

the door clicks shut behind you, and your nerves have you feeling slightly wobbly and lightheaded. this wasn't the situation you were expecting tonight and you certainly weren't prepared to spend 7 minutes in heaven with your best friends older brother.

but vince doesn't seem to be too bothered with the situation now that he's in the room, his earlier shocked expression faded away. vince sits down before he flips backwards onto the perfectly made bed, closing his eyes and loudly exhaling.

you knaw on your lip, trying to think of something to say. he's clearly annoyed with this whole situation, because he seems to always be annoyed with you - you swear you could polish his shoes and cook him his favourite meal and he'd still give you that dead stare.

in a desperate attempt to try and ease the thick tension that's everlasting between you (even though you've never had a clue as to why), you move towards vince and nudge your foot against his.

one eye opens as he peeks up at you, a questioning raise to his eyebrow. he doesn't say anything, and he doesn't move - his foot still touching yours.

"i'm sorry," you start, "I should've tried harder to convince everyone to let me spin again. i've never been to a party before though and I didn't want to upset anyone - especially because I wasn't technically invited and only came because sammy wanted me to."

vince still doesn't say anything. he pushes up with his elbows, back into his original sitting position at the end of the bed. he looks up at you blankly, and like usual he's not giving away any of his emotions.

the position has you feeling awkward - you looking down at vince while he silently and lazily blinks up at you. you wring your hands out and take a seat beside him, the mattress dipping until you're sliding into his torso.

your nervous ramble continues. "although maybe I should be happy the bottle landed on you instead of some other asshole who probably would've started groping me by now - like how embarrassing would it have been turning down evan russell because I haven't even had my first kiss yet, never mind hooking up-"

"you've never been kissed?" vince interrupts you.

you heat up, a bright pink hue covering your cheeks and up to the tips of your jewelry decorated ears. "no...and obviously these lips won't be touching evan russell's anytime soon. at least not until I can properly and confidently go into a situation like this-" you gesture between the two of you wildly "-without my stomach falling down to my feet."

vince hums quietly to himself, and his eyes dance over your face slowly - analyzing you. "you talk way too much."

your head snaps completely over in his direction, and your eyebrows pull together in irritation. "excuse you. I don't talk too much, what are you even saying right now-"

vince kisses you.

he confidently pulls you closer towards him with a guiding hand on the back of your neck, his fingers sliding through your hair in a way that gives you goosebumps. his lips are soft and taste like cheap beer, but the way he licks onto your bottom lip expertly has you completely captivated and not even the reality of the situation could snap you out of it.

vince kisses softer than you expected - a complete contrast to his hard exterior. the way his lips move against yours is almost comforting and relaxing and although you have absolutely nothing to compare it to - it feels good.

you breathe shakily against him, the unexpected pleasure from a simple kiss taking you by surprise.

the door opens and you both jump apart. vince immediately gets off the bed and walks out the room, brushing past a few of the guys from the hockey team - mumbling something to them you don't catch. vince doesn't spare you a second glance as he leaves, and that has you feeling very uncertain and confused.

you get up, ignoring the guys snickering and eyes as you walk down the hallway and back into the main area of the house. even though you'd technically been caught making out with vince, nobody had seemingly saw anything that proves it and by the bored look on everyone's faces from sitting through another 7 minutes of waiting around, they don't suspect anything.

you return to the circle, taking your original seat beside sammy, she instantly turns to you with her eyes blow wide. "are you okay? did anything happen?"

you can only pray your best friend doesn't notice your rose tinted cheeks or puffy lips - incriminating evidence that contradicts your shaking head. "no. nothing happened."

sammy laughs with relief for you. "thank god - my brother is so disgusting."

"yeah." you laugh softly.

the rest of the night, vince doesn't meet your gaze.

it has you feeling very icky and....confused. is this a usual occurrence after making out with somebody you've known your whole life? was vince kissing and not following up with any sort of interaction a normal thing for him?

so hours later, way after vince's mom had picked you all up from the party and brought you back to the dunn house (vince had hockey practice early, of course), you were determined to figure out what the hell happened in that bedroom and what it meant.

getting out of the creaky bed, you sneak out of sammy's room, leaving her and her loud snoring behind in favour of quietly making your way down the upstairs hallways - down towards closed door of vince's bedroom.

you knock once - quietly - on his door, praying that he's not yet gone to sleep and he heard your knock.

thankfully, vince answers. the door opens just a crack, his brows pulled together in confusion as he catches sight of your familiar stature through the gap - his face falls.

he pulls open the door fully, revealing his shirtless torso and pyjama pants that sat dangerously low on his chiseled hips. momentarily you're distracted. you can't help it - your teenage hormones are out of whack after that toe curling first kiss.

"what?" he huffs, crossing his arms.

you mimic his actions subconsciously. "are you going to talk to me after that?"

his brows raise questionably. "after....?"

"after you kissed me, vince."

he hums. "right, the kiss - why would I want to talk about it?"

you shrug, exasperated. "maybe because you and I have never done that before - I've never done that before."

"and?" he's looking at you expectantly.

"and," you huff, "I don't know what it means."

his face changes into something you can't decipher - maybe guilt, or possibly anger. it could even be a new version of his usual bored expression - you're not sure. vince exhales, and his arms uncross in favour of running a hand through his messy curly hair.

he meets your unsure eyes. "it means nothing, y/n. you're my little sisters best friend, okay? nothing will ever happen between us. and I know it was your first kiss or whatever, but it wasn't mine. I only kissed you so you'd stop talking, so don't be weird or annoying about it 'cause it's going to piss me off."

vince's words have you taking a visible step back, your face pulling uncomfortably as embarrassment crawls up your chest.

even though vince has never been your biggest fan, you've always liked him. there was something about vince that always has you feeling drawn in, and you always find yourself spotting him in a crowd or looking for him in a room full of others.

he was your first real crush and ever since you met him back when you were 8 and vince was turning 11, you've found yourself completely smitten with him - regardless of his grumpy and rude attitude directed towards you.

so hearing those words hurt. because after the kiss - a kiss that he initiated- you thought there could've been a small possibility that he changed his opinion of you...that he liked you back.

but clearly not.

"it doesn't matter what I do because it will piss you off regardless." you spit out, looking at him with a completely different view than you ever have before.

all vince does is roll his eyes - and that is the final nail in your coffin.

you should've given up on trying to crack vince dunn a long time ago, but the way he turned such an amazing first experience for you into a heartbreaking story is something you'll never forget- vince will forever be apart of you, no matter how badly you try to change it.

"are you done throwing a hissy fit now? i'm tired."

"yeah," you send him a sarcastic smile, the anger towards him and the situation practically vibrating off you, "i'm done."

you walk away, back down the hall in the direction of sammy's room. from this day forward, you vow to yourself to never treat vince with any less disrespect than he shows you.

you will never like vince dunn again.

christmas: 2024, december 21st

"are you guys serious right now?"

"yes honey, there's nothing we can do." your moms burnt skin is practically blinding you through the facetime video, and you can hear her beaded braids clicking against one another as he peeks over your dads shoulder.

through the phone, your dad sends you a guilty look. "because of the island's location, they only have flights once a week and due to the storm down here all flights have been cancelled for today and won’t make it out until next week."

you make a disgruntled noise, "but that will be after christmas. so i'm just supposed to spend christmas alone? - my first christmas since evan dumped me, let's not forget that mom and dad."

"i'm sorry dolly," your mom pouts, "we are upset about it too."

"yeah well at least you get to be together and spend time on a tropical island. i'm stuck in a constant freezing temperature by myself."

"don't make us feel bad honey." your dad scolds gently. it's a reminder that it's not your parents fault for their flight getting cancelled regardless of how upset you are.

you're still a little salty towards them for not bringing you on their vacation so close to christmas though, so you're allowed to feel a little annoyed.

you sigh gently, "I know i'm sorry, this just sucks." your eyes drift past your phone, finding the twinkling lights of your childhood christmas tree. your mom insists on having all the shitty ornaments you made when you were a kid still on the tree, accompanied by twinkling red and green lights that she's had since before you were born. the angel on top is missing a wing and the tree skirt is ripped but you wouldn't change it for the world.

another wave of sadness hits you as the reality sets in - you're about to be alone on christmas.

"I know - ah crap my phones about to die." your dad curses, and through the screen you watch him attempting to get rid of the low battery notification.

your mom rolls her eyes at your dads antics before she looks back at you through your phone. "we love you honey, we're sorry."

"I love you guys too."

"keep in touch, okay."

you give your parents a small smile, resting your cheek against your palm. "I will."

your parents hang up - you're not sure if it was them pressing the button or if your dads phone died, but your screen returns to normal as your mom and dads faces disappear.

you sigh gently. the house feels more empty than it did when you answered the call, knowing that you'll now be alone in it until after the holiday season is just...depressing. if this was any other year you would've invited your boyfriend over for the holiday, or perhaps you would've stayed with him and his family - but evan russell broke up with you four months ago after your college graduation.

dating one of the guys on the senior boys hockey team in high school was one of those things you weren't expecting to happen, but it just weirdly did and it worked. you two started seeing one another not long after that party where you and vince kissed - which still sends your blood boiling, by the way. evan has asked you out one day after class, and dating one of his friends pissed vince off even more.

you and evan dated for years - all through high school and college. but two weeks after your graduation, he called it off and said he needed to explore being himself and wished you well. although the breakup hurt and felt very unexpected, you respected evan and wanted what was best for him. that was until a week after the breakup you saw him posting pictures with his new girlfriend - and the respect vanished.

you open your text thread with sammy and click on the camera icon. you take a picture of yourself pouting in front of the christmas tree, looking very alone and very sad in your elf pyjamas.

y/n

these are my new christmas plans

sammy

what? wearing pyjamas still at 3 in the afternoon ?

y/n

no.

y/n

being alone on christmas. my parents flight got canceled and because the island is super remote they can't get another flight in until boxing day

y/n

so leave me and my christmas jammys alone

sammy

I love your jammys

sammy

but WHAT omg - you're not spending christmas alone

y/n

nothing I can do about it sammy

immediately after she reads the text, you get an incoming facetime call from sammy - the picture of her when she was 15 with spaghetti sauce all over her face you saved as her contact photo flashing on the screen.

you slide the answer bar, already expecting the brazen look she'll be sporting. but oddly enough, she's got an unsettling smirk on her face and you're immediately groaning. "why are you looking like you're planning on kidnapping me?"

"because I'm going to kidnap you," sammy laughs, and through the camera you watch as she sits up into a more straight position on the family couch. "mom says get over here."

just then tracy dunn pops over her daughters shoulder. she's got her apron on and you can spot the explosions of flour on the christmas cover up - she's clearly been starting early on her holiday baking. tracy gives you a stern look, "y/n honey you're not spending christmas alone - especially when you have family right here in this house. pack a bag and one of us will come get you."

in your junior year of high school sammy and the dunn family moved. thankfully, they stayed in your small southern ontario town, but instead of living two houses down from you and your family, they became a twenty minute drive away.

the garland in the doorway above sammy's head twinkles, and another pang of christmas blues hits you. a warm and inviting home with some of your favourite people was something you definitely couldn't pass up.

you eye sammy and her mom and a smile begins to grow at your lips. "okay, I'll put some stuff together for a few days."

"you're staying until your parents get back - sammy said boxing day, right?"

sammy's such a little snitch, you think. to prove your point, your best friend sends you a triumphant smile through the phone.

"yes but I don't want to oppose-"

"that's ridiculous," tracy interrupts, "you could never. sammy hang up the phone and stop distracting her, she needs to pack."

"alright." sammy moves the phone so that only she's in view, that cheeky smile still on her face. "you better go."

you nod, "if you think i'm changing out of these pyjamas though you'd be wrong."

she laughs, "i'll see you soon."

"see you soon, sammy."

she hangs up and you're immediately pushing off the couch. you pack your things as quickly as you can, gathering a weeks worth of clothes, toiletries and your favourite one direction pillow - you figure if you forget anything you can just steal sammy's.

just as you've double checked everything unnecessary is unplugged from any of the outlets, a horn honks outside - two quick beeps that alert you. you peek out the front window and see sammy's blue toyota idling in your driveway.

you grab your bag, pillow and your house keys before slipping on your winter gear over your movie themed pyjamas - the bottoms bulking up around your boots in a way that makes you look wildly non put together.

you walk wearily through the icy snow coating your driveway. you've never been good at removing snow, and you honestly should've left it and not attempted to shovel the driveway - because now you're walking on uneven, slippery, half completed snow piles.

you get in the car quickly, rubbing your hands together to create some friction - attempting to warm up your already freezing fingers. you pause to shut the car door, as well as buckle your seat belt over your puffy jacket.

the car is pulling out of your driveway before you can even fathom your surroundings. sammy has always been a nervous driver, especially in the winter, so her speedy take off has you frowning in confusion.

as you finally look towards the driver's side of the car, your face falls and suddenly the driving style makes sense.

vince eyes you quickly before finding the snow covered street again. "nice pyjamas."

"what are you doing here?"

"what am I doing here?" he repeats your question with a stupid smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he uses one hand to turn onto the main road. "i'm picking you up."

"no I mean what are you doing back home?"

vince shoots you an inquisitive glance. "you kind of just answered the question - it's my home."

"no," you correct, "seattle is your home."

"you keeping tabs on me, y/n?" he's clearly trying to get a rise out of you and you know him too well for that tone to fly under your radar. since that dreaded kiss between you both in high school, vince's attitude towards you changed - well, sort of. instead of the quite and bored attitude vince had for you, it has turned into something more mocking and insulting where he seemed to go out of his way to annoy you and push your buttons.

but you vowed to not give him the satisfaction of your ignorance and just ignore him - absolutely not. so you made sure you were just as petty and reciprocated every comment, action and insult. "I don't have to keep tabs on you to know you've been in seattle for a few years vincent - did you get injured again? is that why you're here?"

he tongues his cheek, rolling his eyes at your jab. "no, my schedule worked out so I can be home until boxing day."

your eyes widen, "so you'll be here the entire week?"

"don't sound too excited." vince breathes out a laugh, eyes flickering to yours again. "or I'll start to think you like my company."

"like is a very strong word." you sigh irritatedly and cross your arms. your coat makes that awkward friction noise, and all that does is further your annoyance. you turn your head to watch through the window - the sights of snow covered branches glistening in the sun, combined with the glowing lights of christmas light up the dimming sky.

you hear vince move after he makes the turn off the highway, and the sound of some shitty country song gets louder over the cars speakers. vince has always loved country, which has obviously ruined any kind of country song for you - you pray for a day when you can listen to old taylor swift without thinking of vince dunn.

the loud music has you huffing and you break your silent treatment in favour of turning down the radio - blanketing the inside of the toyota in silence.

vince shoots you an unamused look and before he has a chance to speak, or worse, turn the song back on, you interrupt him. "it's christmas, at least play something festive if I have to be trapped in this car with you for another 10 minutes."

"by all means, go ahead and get out of the car. i'll even slow down a bit so you don't hurt yourself too bad jumping out." he gestures to the car door beside you, his eyes darting quickly between you, the road, and the door.

"oh wow and here I thought you enjoyed being in here with me - I'm hurt, vincent, really." you hold your heart for a petty affect, pouting sarcastically over at him.

he laughs, a deep grumbling noise that has your smile faltering slightly. "oh please it's not like i'm here voluntarily-"

"that's a big word - who taught you that one?" you interrupt him, furthering your closed off position by crossing your pyjama covered legs. you merely miss the dial on the radio with your foot, and your anklet slides up your calf awkwardly.

the new position has your pant leg shifting so your leg is somewhat exposed. you feel momentarily embarrassed at the sight of your pale and prickly leg and instantly have the urge to change your seating position. but you don't, because you don't want vince to think you're uncomfortable- you can't give him that sort of satisfaction.

"nobody else could pick you up. that's why I'm here." vince continues right from where he left off, before you interrupted him about his 5th grade vocabulary.

you had already assumed that was the reason for vince's suprise arrival. with tracy always elbow deep in baking this time of year, john working the late shift this week and sammy's hectic winter driving - vince was the only option (even though you didn't know he was an option until he showed up - you figured he'd be in seattle like every other year).

"well If I knew that I would've stayed home." you huff.

vince eyes your boot covered foot as you anxiously shake it - with every jump it almost hits the volume dial. he mimics your deep sigh and rolls his eyes. "I wish you would've."

you don't say anything and keep your eyes trained through the front windshield. as dinner time approaches, the streets are starting to become enveloped in darkness, leaving you with that blue christmas light longing.

you can feel vince's gaze switching between the side of your face and the road, and you know it's only a matter of seconds before he spews some more nonsense that will leave you wanting to actually throw yourself out the car.

like predicted, vince starts to speak again, his unfortunately familiar voice filling the quiet rumble in the car. "how come you're not spending christmas with evan anyways? I saw that he was back home."

your head snaps in vince's direction so quickly you think there's a high possibility you've given yourself whiplash. you attempt to read his expression- trying to figure out if he was egging you on with bringing up your failed relationship or if he actually didn't know.

you decide it's the latter based on the way vince isn't even looking at you while he waits for a response, and his eyebrows are pulled together as he focuses on driving through the deep snow - he’s not watching you for a reaction.

you clear your throat quietly and look back to the road. "spending the holidays with my ex and his new girlfriend would've been a bit awkward, don't you think?"

he looks at you quickly, an unreadable expression on his flushed face . "I didn't know."

"why would you know? it's not like you would've asked about me for anything besides trying to benefit yourself."

you don't give him the opportunity to say anything else and you reach over yourself to turn the volume back up. to your surprise, vince has christmas music in his playlist and the familiar melody of michael buble fills the car.

the rest of the car ride neither you or vince say anything and choose to stew in the slightly awkward silence - the awkwardness being from the bombshell you've just dropped that you're no longer dating his friend from high school. thankfully he doesn't turn off the music like you'd done to him earlier, and the songs provide a comfortable white noise over everything else.

once vince pulls the car into his families driveway, you're immediately jumping out, grabbing your bag and pillow you'd left at your feet and booking it up the small set of stairs and into the cinnamon scented home.

you spot sammy who is still lounging in the same spot that she was in when you answered her call 30 minutes ago.

she meets your eyes and sends you a mix of a guilty and sympathetic smile, as if she was apologizing for the pain she knew you would've endured with vince picking you up without warning.

"you dick." you huff towards her. "no warning or anything?" your words have no bite as you're plopping yourself between the back of the couch cushions and sammy, cuddling into your best friends side.

she laughs, "If I told you, you wouldn't of gotten in the car."

you shrug. "would that have been so bad?"

sammy scoffs, "yes because we need you here with us for christmas."

you emit a grumbling noise and tuck your face further into your best friends side. sammy laughs again, patting your head sympathetically.

sammy has never been bothered by your ongoing battle with her older brother. in the beginning, she was just as confused as you were about his seemingly unwarranted negative attitude and sammy would often try and change his mind about you. but as the years went on and you and vince got more heated, she just accepted the fate and chose to be blissfully ignorant towards any negative situation or argument that brews between you.

vince walks through the front door with you purse clutched in his hands - you must've forgotten it in your rush to leave the tension stewing in the car.

he shoots you an unimpressed look and tosses the bag near your outstretched socked feet. you have the tiniest urge to pick up your purse and throw it back right in his face, but your contemplation is halted as tracy enters the warmly lit living room, a matching smile on her face.

"you guys hungry?"

you look away from vince and his condescending smirk - like he could read your thoughts - and force a smile.

"starving." sammy jumps away from you and off the couch, her sock feet bounding around the corner and down towards the kitchen nook.

your cheek hits the cushion, smooshing your face into the fabricated sofa. vince snickers from where he's lounging on the lazy boy, and you're pretty sure his snickering is directed at you and your awkward pose.

you sigh, pushing off the couch with the palms of your hands until you can manoeuvre back onto your feet. you tug down the hem of your pyjamas top, pulling it back into a more appropriate position from where it had risen up.

you follow in your friends footsteps and make the short journey down the wide hallway until you reach the large archway entrance of the cosy kitchen. the sight before you is memorizing, and you pause to look around. tracy had completely decorated the kitchen for the holidays - faux trees and garland lining the countertops, along with red plaid hand towels and table cloth. ribbons, dried orange garland, and the scent of gingerbread are all apart of making the kitchen feel like the warmest, comforting, festive space.

"looks amazing tracy." you say, your eyes still walking throughout the room. "like seriously."

tracy smiles, adding another platter to the just as festive kitchen table - it looks like perfectly crispy bite sized potatoes and your mouth is already watering. since you're parents have been gone on vacation you've only been eating take out or frozen meals. you've never been a good cook - one time in college you almost set your microwave ablaze trying to heat up some pizza...you still don't know how that happened.

you hear vince's footsteps approaching behind you. he must've not been paying attention, because he runs right into the back of you, sending you stumbling a few steps forward.

you spin to face him, already feeling the irritated pull on your face.

vince huffs like you're the one who ran into him - which makes you want to knee him - and pockets his phone. clearly, you were right and he wasn't looking where he was going.

"vince," sammy's teasing voice calls from the stove, where she is dipping her fingers into the squash soup and sucking the creamy vegetable liquid off them. "better get out from underneath the mistletoe or else you'll have to kiss her."

her eyes gesture between her brother and you.

much to your dismay, there is some mistletoe delicately hung onto the archway above vince.

vince raises his eyebrow in question, but his face stays flat, not giving away any thoughts or emotions.

you turn away and finally walk further into the kitchen, immediately offering help to tracy with setting the table. after all, it's the least you could do after she invited you to stay with her and her family until christmas- plus it's gets you away from vince and his punchable face.

john gets home a few minutes later, greeting you all warmly. he doesn't even seem shocked by your presence in his home, and when you tell him you'll be staying for a few days - he's not at all fazed.

thankfully dinner doesn't leave space for you and vince to get into any type of tiff. you're too busy catching up with the rest of the dunn family to even look in vince's direction, which means you remain with an appetite for the entirety of dinner.

"oh!" tracy exclaims, jumping off her chair to gather a small jar set aside on the counter. it's ceramic and red, shaped like a gift. "I almost forgot, we have to pull the names for secret santa - and y/n honey don't worry i've slipped your name in here."

"oh, you didn't need to do that." you breathe, watching tracy take off the lid of the jar.

she dismisses you with a wave of her hand like she always does - a true mother like fashion. tracy makes her husband go first, and john digs around the pieces of paper for a few seconds for dramatic affect - tracy tuts her tongue at his antics.

john emerges with one slip, taking a sneaky peek at the name he pulled out. he groans playfully, thumping his palm against his forehead jokingly. it makes you and everyone else laugh, which was obviously johns goal because he snaps out of character to join in.

soon enough it's your turn and you take one of the only remaining pieces of paper. nobody has pulled their own name yet, so you're praying you keep that streak going so it doesn't have to start all over again.

you pull sammy - her full name written in bold black ink across the rectangle piece of paper. you celebrate internally, always happy to buy things for your best friend.

vince goes next, and he reaches into the almost empty present shaped jar. from your turn you know there's only one remaining name to be picked, so there's no shuffling around for the name. vince pulls out and reads his name. immediately his eyes flicker towards his sister.

sammy gasps, pointing to him like she has it all figured out. "you so have me."

tracy scolds her, "don't guess samatha, you're going to ruin it."

"he looked at me," sammy defends herself, "not my fault he can't keep a secret."

vince smirks, "you're so easily gullible."

"enough you two." tracy scolds gently, looking between her two children quickly. "or i'll make you pick new names."

you know for a fact that vince didn't pull sammy's name because you did, so you're a bit confused at what's he's trying to accomplish here. if you try and think of an answer you'll just be more annoyed with vince, so you you disregard his behaviour.

you tuck the slip of paper between your phone and the case, keeping it close and away from samantha nosy and wondering eyes.

soon enough you're all getting ready for bed, and even though there's one bathroom upstairs between vince and sammy - you thankfully don't run into him while brushing your teeth or washing your face.

you slip into bed beside sammy who's already snoring away - you swear she's the heaviest sleeper who will always fall asleep immediately- and turn off her beside lamp.

being in this house is so comforting and familiar and it's soothing the longing ache you'd felt earlier when your parents broke the news to you regarding not coming home for christmas. you're so thankful for your best friend and her parents for immediately offering you a seat in their home for the holidays - especially considering holiday was time reserved for family.

the only thing that keeps you from falling into a quick sleep was the lingering thought of vince. you can't stop replaying your conversations from today and all his snarky, petty comments and arguments and the way he looks down at you as if you were nothing to him.

you think you'll continue to try and keep yourself in control and try your absolute hardest in not letting your irritation get the better of you and lash out at vince - especially infront of tracy and john. you don't think they'll appreciate you and their son arguing after they invited you into their home.

december 22nd

the dunn's have always had a real christmas tree. when you were younger you used to beg your parents to get rid of the plastic one they'd had for 20 years and to take you to a christmas tree farm and pick out a real one.

but you never got one because your parents didn't want to deal with the mess, so you lived vicariously through sammy and her families real tree. sure, it was messy and you had to take care of it, but the smell of fresh pine made it all worth it.

yesterday when you arrived at the house you were too overwhelmed with the news about your parents and vince's suprise arrival you didn't notice the lack of that christmas tree smell you’d grown so accustomed to.

"well, we had to wait for vince to get home. once he told us he was going to be here for a few days, I thought it be better to wait and that way it would be like when you were both little - when we'd pick out a tree together." tracy smiles warmly, her hand clutched to her chest as she reminisced when her kids were younger, running through the tree farms.

"you're insane, mom." sammy says with a mouthful of milky cheerios - red and geeen coloured for the holidays.

"not insane," tracy squeaks, "just feeling sentimental that my babies are all grown up." she wraps her daughter in a hug over the kitchen chair, almost smacking sammy in the jaw in the process.

you smile, glancing over your shoulder at them. sammy is wide eyed, staring at you in a silent way of asking for help - you giggle gently as tracy starts to rock her back and forth. your attention is brought back to the toaster as you patiently wait for your waffles to pop.

"go hug your other baby, he's the one who's never home." sammy grumbles, scooping another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

"where is vince anyways, we have to leave soon - vince, honey come downstairs!" tracy shouts out, her voice echoing out through the kitchen and up the stairs.

the thought of the oldest dunn sibling has your face pulling in disgust, and the idea of spending more time with him is already having you feeling worn out before the day has started. thankfully, your waffles pop and you concentrate on transferring them to your plate without burning yourself, rather than vince and his stupid face.

vince rounds the corner into the kitchen and surprisingly he's not in his pyjamas still - he’s wearing some nice light wash jeans and a black hoodie, which isn't very festive compared to your leggings and red reindeer printed sweater. thankfully tracy is matching your holiday spirit, and her sweater has a big gold bow on the front that shimmers in the sun - so at least you’re not the only one looking extra.

"honey, we are leaving soon. have you eaten?" tracy asks her son. she's currently packing her purse for all the things she thinks she'll need for the day, which you're not sure how a beatles cd will come in handy - but who knows. you are thankful for the extra socks though, because the chances of you shoving vince into a snow pile are very high.

"I'll have an apple." vince says.

you finish spreading the butter over the ridges of the waffles, the solid topping turning into a delicious liquid pool in each square of the waffle. you open the cupboard above your head where the syrup is kept (because who likes cold syrup?) but it's not on the reachable shelf it usually sits - it's on the very top shelf.

at first you don't think it'll be a challenge, you're not short by any means, but as you first attempt to reach the syrup, you come up short and you can't quite reach the bottle. you huff, pushing up on to your tiptoes to try and get ahold of the syrup- but somebody beats you to it.

vince is chewing the contents of his apple completely unfazed as he comes up beside you and grabs the syrup bottle. he places it beside your plate of waffles, and you have to take a deep breathe and tune out the sound of him crunching on the apple or you may just loose it.

you eye him, "I could've gotten it."

vince’s eyebrows raise and he swallows the chunk of apple. "oh well I can put it back up there and you can try and grab it. I found it quite amusing to watch you struggle."

"but yet you helped me?"

"thought Id try and spread some christmas cheer." vince shrugs and takes the last editable bite out of his apple, now left with only the browning core. instead of walking around to the garbage can sitting on the other side of you, vince tosses the core of his apple between you and the counter.

it merely misses you and getting sticky apple juice on your festive sweater, landing in the bottom of the garbage can with a loud smack.

you inhale loudly, shooting vince another pointed look. "could start by not attempting to hit me with something covered in your saliva."

vince smirks, crossing his arms. even his bulky hoodie can't hide the thick muscles he's maintained through the season, and you catch yourself staring. "you're the only girl I know who would protest that."

you make a gagging noise, turning you attention back to your waffle - which you haven't even attempted to dress with syrup yet.

john then walks into the kitchen, clad in his winter coat and boots. "the car is brushed off and the christmas tree farm is calling our names." he claps his hands together once, rubbing them together in anticipation. "everyone excited?"

tracy immediately answers her husband yes - just as cheerful as she's been all morning. sammy immediately drops her bowl in the sink, still full of milk, and runs off as she shouts something about needing to find the perfect coat for the farm.

amongst the slight chaos, vince turns to his father and grins suspiciously large. it already has your stomach bubbling with irritation, continuing to dread the day ahead. "so excited." vince expresses.

as his dad and mom start going over their mental check list for the day, vince looks back towards you - his vision pointed and teasing.

you only hold his gaze for a few antagonizing seconds before tearing your eyes away. the way vince can so easily irritate you, and know exactly what he’s doing is so frustrating to watch. you try and mask the scowl growing on your face by taking an angry bite of your syrupless waffle.

——

"vincent i'm one second away from shoving your head into the snow." you huff, sending him a pointed look over the puffed shoulder of your coat.

"do it," vince snickers, "because then I don't have to hear your voice anymore."

you grumble his words under your breath, deeply mocking him. vince doesn't seem to hear you though because he doesn't mumble anything back in retaliation. the silence gives you a moment of peace, saved from the tangent vince had just gone on - arguing with you about the height of the tree his mom wanted (it’s 7ft ceilings - there’s no argument.)

the smell of fresh pine trees and sticky sap is the only thing keeping you sane - truly. without the scent and christmas festivities all around you, you surely would've slammed your head in the door of john and tracy's minivan by now.

after a good half hour drive to the christmas tree farm and trying to not react to vince's overly expressive comments on the way, you figured you'd be free of the oldest dunn sibling for the next couple hours - but no.

sammy's boyfriend, logan, ended up showing up and sammy was quick to totally abandon you in order to spend time with him. which you don't resent her for obviously - she never really gets to see him since he's still away at college, but without sammy as your tree picking partner, you're left with vince.

obviously this is your worst nightmare.

vince follows a few steps behind you with his hands shoved in his front jean pockets. he doesn't seem to even be looking at the trees, which only irritates you further - because why was he so adamant about arguing with you about the height of a tree if he wasn’t even going to properly look for one.

you weave through another row of trees, slowing in your steps to look over each one - inspecting every pine and bristle. because it's so close to christmas the supply at the farm is slowly dwindling, and although all rows have trees, it's looking a little sparse - the amount and the trees themselves.

you let your previously crossed arms fall, and you complete stop your steady pace. the tree in front of you looks pretty good considering the options available, with almost perfectly green bristles and that full look tracy loved so much. you eye back at vince, a questioning raise to your eyebrows. "here's a good one."

his brows pull together tightly, forming a v shape above the bridge of his noise. vince takes a step closer to the tree you’re stopped at, and after a long silent moment he just shrugs.

"what's wrong with this tree?" you huff pointedly.

"it's shit."

"it's not shit - you don't like it because I picked it and you know it's the best one we've seen so far and there's a high chance it's the best one period."

your attitude is on full display, with your hand resting on your hip as the bone juts out towards the left. your face is pulled in a mixture of confusion and frustration, blinking quickly up at vince like you're trying to literally blink him away.

it has vince biting back a satisfied smirk - he's always so amused at how easily he can rile you up, even when you try so hard to hide it. "I bet I can find a better one."

"it's four days before christmas vincent, you're not going to find a better one." you grab ahold of the rope holding the tree and follow the natural line around to the backboard behind the trees. it's hooked into some weird latch, and you quickly try and maneuver the metal clasp off the loop - desperate to get the tree and get out of there.

"you have to push before you pull." vince is much closer than before, and he reaches towards the clasp as well. his words are warm against your frost bitten face, and the press of his body against your side is an oddly chilling feeling - underneath your clothes, your skin prickles with goosebumps.

"yeah that's what i'm trying to do - but now your hands are in my way."

he huffs, "you're only pulling - I can feel it, y/n."

"I can only pull because you're not letting me push." you argue. you both don't let up, and there's a confused mix of hands trying to pick over and around one another in a competitive match to unlatch the rope from the hook on the wooden plaque.

it’s only a few more moments of battling one another before vince's uses his strength advantage to forcefully move you out of the way and pushes your body off to the side with just his hip. your hands release the hook reluctantly, which gives vince free will to fiddle with it solely.

in a surge of anger, from not only his ridiculous strength but also your lack of, you kneel down and grab a pile of fluffy snow from the base of the cut tree stumps. you quickly and messily pack it into a ball shape and before you can think otherwise, you chuck it right at vince.

it hits him square in the chest, and the snow explodes from the impact, coming up his coat and splashing against his jawline - some of the snow even slipping past the neck hole of his sweatshirt and soaking his shirt.

slowly, he looks in your direction - his face pulled in such a way that you can't tell if he's going to scream or say nothing at all. vince is met with only the sight of your wide, shocked eyes - mitten covered hands covering your grinning mouth.

"I don't know why I did that." your words are quick and muffled through the pink gloves.

vince eyes squint accusingly as he fully turns to face you. he lets go of the hold on the lock that was still very much clasped in - but he is too shocked to even begin brushing snow off himself. "are you laughing?"

you are giggling - just a tiny bit and clearly your hands aren't doing a good job at hiding it. "no."

"I obviously have to get you back for that." vince grabs his own scoop of snow in his bare hands - because he claims he's too cool for gloves - and slowly begins packing it together.

"what? no." your hands drop from your face quickly, just as much your growing smirk. "I was just in the heat of the moment and I couldn’t help myself."

he shrugs nonchalantly, and the snow ball is getting tossed between his two bare hands mockingly - teasing you. "okay? and I'm also in the heat of the moment and I don't think I can stop myself."

"vince I swear to god if you decide today is the day you choose peace and put that snow back on the ground i'll forever be in your debt - why are you looking at me like that?"

the snow ball is still, lightly clutched in just one hand as vince looks at you. he's got an unreadable expression on his face, and it's one you've never seen before - he looks approachable and soft and so unlike the vince you've known since your freshman year.

you swallow gently - nervously - eyeing him curiously as you try to read his next move and understand his next actions before they happen. “you haven't called me vince since you were 14."

you're confused and vince can see it written all over your face. the downwards pull at your lips and the way your brows crease as you try and wrack your brain for an explanation. vince continues, his words firm but not rough. "you always call me vincent...It just made me think of the real you."

you're taken back from his words. the real you - what could vince mean by that insinuation. sure you've changed since high school, especially since vince broke your heart outside his bedroom that friday night freshmen year - but you're still you...you hope so anyways.

your mouth opens but no sounds come out - you're too busy reeling in your own head that you can't yet speak anything that would remotely make sense.

"there you are!" tracy's joyful voice interrupts as she and john make their way down the isle of trees you’re both in. "we've had no luck, unfortunately."

they come to a stop beside you, oblivious to the way you've gone completely internally crazy.

"any luck for you two? sammy and logan are at the hot chocolate stand waiting on us." john states, looking between you both.

"yeah," vince clears his throat and turns back towards the tree that you two had been attempting to unlatch. this time he's able to release the christmas tree from its rope in one try. "y/n found this one."

tracy immediately starts fussing excitedly, praising your eye. she goes on about how it will look wonderful by the fireplace, and how it's branches are so full and will compliment her home made ornaments perfectly - but you don't even feel like rubbing in the fact that you were right. you don't send vince any vindictive look, or some snarky smirk that says 'I told you so.' you can only focus on what vince's statement means.

thankfully sammy is a good distraction, and when you all meet up for the first time since arriving - vince lugging the tree behind him - and all share some hot chocolate and cider, you momentarily forget about it.

after another hour or so exploring the farm, you all decide to head back home - with a surprisingly perfect christmas tree and stomachs full and warm of hot chocolate.

sammy ends up passing out on your left quickly into the drive, her head resting against the cool glass car window with gentle snores passing through her lips. she must've been feeling tired, because she faught you for your previous seat - now you're stuck in the middle.

vince's arm is pressed into yours, and with every turn or bump in the road you can feel the way his muscles contract and move - even through the material of your puffy jacket.

you keep discreetly glancing over at him. you wish that you could read his mind or pull the thoughts right out of his head and understand them - but you can't, so you stealing glances will have to do for an attempt to understand him.

with tracy and john talking with one another in the front, voices blending with the holiday music they've turned up to block out sammy's snoring, you take an opportunity to get vince's attention.

"what did you mean by the real me?" your words aren't very loud as you don't want to draw the attention of vince's parents or wake sammy - which would ruin the chance of getting an understanding of vince's earlier words.

vince’s eyes flicker over to you, reluctantly pulling his attention away from where he was watching the road ahead through the gap between the passenger seat and car wall. his eyes dance over your wind kissed face and curious eyes, analyzing you. "it meant nothing."

you blink. "nothing? i'm going crazy here thinking that i've totally morphed into this super awful human and -"

"y/n." vince interrupts you roughly, his normal bored face making an appearance. "stop." his voice is almost pleading, like if you keep talking about it he'll become overcome with pain - vince's eyes flutter closed, and his head gently falls back against the head rest.

you don't say anything else because you're too hurt to further the conversation. you purse your lips, nodding in a bitter understanding before turning your face away from vince. you focus on the winter scenery outside sammy's window, doing your best to not feel further upset by vince's words - but you can't help the nagging feelings that swirl around your stomach, and the avalanche of emotions weighing in your head.

you don't even feel angry - just confused and left wondering what you did to make vince dislike you so much.

when did he become a stranger?

december 23rd

the santa day market in your town was always one of your favourite things about the christmas season. there was something about how all the shops decorated for the holiday, the streets put up garlands and lights, and how everyone came together to celebrate the most festive time of year never failed to put you in the christmas mood.

this year was no different, and with vince's mom being the one to always make sure you and your family all went together, here you all were - obviously with the lack of your parents, but that goes without saying.

the smell of snow and apple cider flows through the busy sidewalks, further adding to the festivities all around you. there's only an hour and a bit before the annual santa clause parade kicks off, and sammy had suggested that you all take the time to find secret santa gifts - if you haven't already.

you're happy for her suggestion, because with your and vince's tiff yesterday, buying a secret santa gift has slipped your mind.

the rest of the car ride home from the christmas tree farm was very quiet - well, you and vince were quiet - sammy's snoring and the music continued as loud as ever. the vibe between you and the oldest dunn sibling had changed, but not in the way you were now realizing you wanted it to change.

for the rest of the night, if vince did talk to you it wasn't with anger and irritation like you'd grown used to. instead he sounded more disappointed? maybe guilty? but then again, maybe your brain is trying to turn vince softer than he is, and he's not feeling any sort of remorse or guilt about how the conversation in the car went between you and it’s all in your head.

you push open the glass door of one of the boutiques lining the main street, the holly decorated wreath swinging against the window as you do so. inside is surprisingly busy considering all the attention seems to mostly be outside - but thankfully it's a relatively big store - full of cute clothing, accessories and anything in between - meaning you can browse freely without feeling overwhelmed.

it doesn't take long to start spotting things sammy would like, and you begin to make a mini collection of things in your arms. shopping for your best friends has always been so easy. sammy loves knitted sweaters, and you know she'd always wear one. she's also into perfumes and decorative tote bags. graphic baby tees, comfy pyjamas and lip gloss were also apart of sammy's never ending arsenal.

but with that being said, you can never pick exactly what you want a to give her. you always want it to be a perfect gift, and you have a hard time trying to pick one perfect thing - hence the heavy armful of various gift options.

something partnered catches your eye, and you find yourself double taking in its direction. it's beautiful throw blanket, and the soft material is decorated with vintage looking holiday homes, greenery and snowflakes- it's beautiful. with your free hand, you reach out and touch the front of it, gliding your hand across the baby soft blanket. you're immediately in love with it, and the urge to scrap the whole secret santa thing and spend your entire budget on the - no doubt - expensive throw is very strong.

but obviously that's not an option, and you'll have to just dream about the blanket longingly while your best friend enjoys her secret santa gift.

"your boots undone." you look away from the shelf loaded with various holiday blankets and in the direction of the voice.

it's vince, and you curse yourself for not registering the familiarity of his voice sooner. he's not holding any shopping bags, meaning he either previously bought his secret santa their gift, or he hasn't found anything yet.

you look down to your winter boots, which you can barley see over the monstrous pile of things still tucked against the crook of your elbow. vince is right - your left lace isn't tied up and is hanging dangerously, very close to causing you to trip.

"okay," you hum, eyes flickering back up towards him. "and what am I supposed to do about that right now?" it's a bold and snappy response from you considering the awkward and unknown vibes that have been circulating around you and vince the past 24 hours - but you can't help it, and falling into the original pattern between you is very easy.

vince still hasn't moved from a few feet away from where you had been looking at the blankets. his eyes dance between your face, the present options in your arms and the undone shoe lace.

suddenly he’s on the move and he walks towards you wordlessly. before you can register what he's doing, vince is tying your lace back up. he's down on one knee, which would usually give you the ick, but it seemingly doesn't - vince even double knots the lace, which is the cherry on top of your guilty ice cream.

once he returns to his full height and sends you a closed mouth smile, you further regret your snappy response about the undone shoelaces.

once again, vince's eyes wander down to the pile in your arms and his brows pull together in what looks like concern - whether that concern is for your arm strength or the amount of things in them...you'll never know.

"don't worry vince i'm not your secret santa."

his eyes change, a flicker of something you recognize but can't put your finger on - but it has your weird nervousness settling down. vince snickers softly, almost like he was laughing to himself. "thank god for that - I don't think those clothes would fit me."

your chest flutters with something like relief, and although you know you shouldn't so easily forget about vince's cold shoulder yesterday, it's hard when his gentle laughter warms your belly unexpectedly. so for now you decide to forget, and a small smile pulls at your lips as you eye vince teasingly. "mhmm I don't know, I think you could rock these pink frills."

his brows raise slightly, pleasantly surprised at your playful expression. "just because I would, doesn't mean I should." vince picks up a bedazzled set of salt and pepper shakers nearby and inspects them closely. you think they're gaudy and clearly vince thinks the same - he glances at you and pulls a face, putting down the set of sparkly condiment holders.

"oh, you think you're hot stuff?" you tease him further, the comment about the pink frilly sweater still prevalent on your mind.

vince snickers one more, gently prodding the side of his cheek with his tongue to stop his smile from growing any further. he doesn't answer your question but the look on his face is enough of an answer. "you're not getting sammy all of that are you?" his gaze shifts back towards the pile in your arms, and he even reaches out and tugs on one of the arms from a patterned top.

"wha!" you stutter a mixed sound of huh and what passing through your open mouth - your eyes blown wide as you eye him questionably. "how do you know I have sammy?”

vince smirks, "process of elimination."

you squint at him accusatorially, trying to decide if he actually has done some process of elimination in his head, or if vince is just trying to trick you into telling him who you’re secret santa for. "fine," you hum, admitting defeat. "no i'm not getting sammy all of this! I just....cant decide."

vince smiles victoriously - obviously he knew he was right. "you're so indecisive."

"no, i'm not." you sing song.

vince matches your pitch, mimicking you. "you are."

"you don't even know what you're talking about." you breathe gently, a small bubble of laughter following.

"okay, then go put some stuff back if you're so sure and not indecisive." vince eyes you challengingly, gesturing towards the bustling shop.

"fine," you chirp. "don't miss me too much."

"oh," he laughs, "I won't."

you walk back through the store, slowly putting the random things back into appropriate spots. you don't even remember picking up a zebra printed scarf, but there it was in your arms - and you can't help but pull a face as you hang it back around a mannequin.

"y/n y/l/n is that you?" evan's voice is practically engraved in your memory at this point, and you'd recognize it even over the cheery christmas music blaring through the stores speakers.

you turn towards the direction of his voice, and unfortunately your mind wasn't playing tricks on you - your ex boyfriend was in the shop, looking at you with a bright smile and snow dusted coat. to make everything 10 times worse than it already was, his new girlfriend was wrapped around his arm, just as happy looking as evan.

your face pales, and you slowly finish putting away the sparkly handbag on the shelf in front of you - previously stopping once each called your name. "yeah, it's me."

they walk right up to you, clearly unbothered by the whole situation. evan looks like he's greeting an old friend from highschool - one that he wasn't in a loving relationship with for years and broke up with only weeks ago. it stabs at your chest, even though you don't love him anymore. "wow, I wasn't expecting to run into you here." evan exhales, eyeing you with a curious gaze.

you wonder if he’s analyzing you - looking for damage he caused after your breakup. you’re happy that you washed your hair this morning and put on some proper makeup before coming out, and that you look - hopefully - somewhat presentable - you don’t want to boost your exes ego by letting him think he has any affect on you.

how evan wasn't expecting to see you in a town you live in and always have lived in is beyond your thought process - but evans never been the sharpest tool in the shed, so it makes sense. he continues, "are you here by yourself? or is your mom around here somewhere? I swear I was just telling jen about how much your mom used to love this store -" you zone out - oh so she has a name?

"hey I was wondering where you went." vince's words are a shock, and the way his large palm touches your lower back and slowly wraps around to the front of your torso even more so. "thought we agreed to meet back up outside the store - not inside."

you blink, looking back at vince. "what?" ever so slightly his eyes widen as if he's trying to tell you to go with it.

"dunner? holy shit" evan's voice brings you back to reality. "what are you doing home?"

vince looks away from you, and an easy going smile takes over his face. "my schedule worked out and was able to come home for christmas. thank god because I was missing y/n/n too much."

"you were?" you gawk.

vince’s teeth are clenched tightly, but his smile never waivers as he looks down at you once again. "of course babe." his fingers pinch your belly gently, another reminder to play along.

babe. oh.

"babe?" evan questions. his blue eyes flicker between you and his old friend, and you can practically see as the puzzle pieces in front of him piece together - the hand around your waist, the pet name, the look in your eyes he's never seen before. "you guys are together?"

you nod once and you sort of resemble a robot with the almost reluctant movement- vince has to take a deep, calming breath and resist the urge to die at the cause of your awful acting. "yeah, we are together."

your conformation has evan smiling - which you don't think would happen. you expected a grimace or even some sort of negative outburst at his ex and his old friend dating - but no. "I always thought you two secretly liked each other - all that hating each other crap wasn't believable."

vince goes stiff behind you, and even though he recovers quickly, you still feel it. you can't believe this is happening. you think the world might swallow you up and save you from the awkwardness that is this conversation.

completely oblivious, evan continues. " isn't it crazy how we both found our true matches after each other." the look evan sends jen has you feeling even more embarrassed and miserable, and you can't decide if your going to laugh, cry, or throw up - or all three.

"we should probably go," jen pats evan's peck affectionately. "your parents are already at the parade spot waiting for us."

"it was nice seeing you guys - you look great together." evan smiles at you both, wrapping an arm around his girlfriends shoulders as they steer through the crowd inside the shop, and make their way towards the exit.

evans words continue to ring through your head as you check out at the cash register. you ended up choosing the very first thing you picked up for sammy, because your first option is always the one you go back to.

you leave the store quickly after getting the gift receipt, and vince is close on your heels as you two make your way down the busy sidewalk.

"are you okay?" vince almost sounds cautious with his tone, and you can feel his eyes flicking across your side profile - trying to find the answer to his question before you tell him.

you glance up at him quickly. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me." your attempt at humor isn't working, and vince doesn't crack even a half smile at your teasing. your face falls, and you sigh gently, "i'll be fine."

he nods thoughtfully, but doesn't seem all that convinced by your words. it's silent for a few moments between you, walking together down the sidewalk back in the direction of where tracy told everyone to meet back up at - right under the clock tower for the parade.

"it’s okay if you're feeling hurt after seeing evan and his new girlfriend. just because you don't love him anymore, doesn't mean it's nice to see that." after a few beats, vince sighs. "do you remember amanda?" he asks you curiously.

your nose scrunches unpleasantly - how could your forget amanda? amanda was vince's awfully short-term girlfriend in the summer going into your sophomore year of highschool - his first year of college. she was very picky, rude, and always made sure to remind everyone that she felt that she was superior to them. you make a noise between a gag and a scoff. "I hated her."

vince laughs once, shoving his hands in his pockets as continue to walk through the busy sidewalks. "I could tell. honestly, she didn't like you either."

"I knew it." you cheer vindictively, because you knew you weren't crazy for thinking that - even though sammy disagreed. "she used to give me these dirty looks - specific ones like she was trying to burn me alive using just her eyes." your gaze flickers back to vince, and your brows pull curiously. "why did you break up? besides the obvious….witchy reasons."

he smiles softly and shrugs. "amanda was never shy about expressing her feelings about anything or anyone, which I never faulted her for even If i disagreed. but when she started talking badly about you, I broke it off."

"oh."

vince continues. "I never let anybody talk about you negatively, y/n. ever. and amanda wasn't an exception to that." he swallows gently, eyes dancing over your face. his expression is soft again, and familiar. it’s a look that makes you forget that the vince in front of you right now is the same one who broke your heart in high school - the same vince you thought you hated.

you now notice that you've both stopped walking and are standing still in the middle of the sidewalk. the sky is practically enveloped into darkness now, only lit up by the buildings light glow and christmas lights decorating the street.

you feel so seen in this moment - you feel completely normal. vince is looking at you in a way you've never seen before, and you can't help but wonder if he's always been looking at you like this but you've been too blinded by words to notice.

vince clears his throat, and a breathy chuckle passes his lips. "I mean after all, i'm the only one who gets to be a dick to you…right?”

his words feel like a slap in the face. is vince admitting that he only defended you to amanda because he was upset somebody else was being mean to you besides himself? - rather than the sole purpose of defending you because he cares about you? you don't let yourself outwardly show how vince's words affected you, and you force a gentle smile. "right."

you don't want to get upset and ruin the relationship dynamic between you and the vince standing infront of you - because something has undoubtedly changed. you're not sure what it is yet, but you like this version of you and vince better than any version from the past 10 years.

you also don't know what vince means with his last comment, and you're not sure if you want to know. so you choose to ignore it - just like you ignored the situation between you yesterday and how you've ignored the unspoken and underlying issue of your and vince's relationship for years.

december 24th

"stop moving or the walls are going to fall."

"the walls are going to fall because you're not using enough icing - it's going to fall weather i'm holding it together or not." vince expresses. to prove his point, he loosens his push on the gingerbread house wall, and it immediately wobbles and begins to collapse inwards.

vince brings his thumb up towrds his mouth and sucks some of the store bought vanilla icing off the digit. his eyes don't leave you as he does so- trying to fluster you with his actions. you narrow your eyes pointedly, which makes a smirk appear on vince's flushed face. he laughs at your attempt at looking annoyed all while trying to keep the sad gingerbread house from completely collapsing.

vince's mom had magically pulled out two separate gingerbread kits in the late afternoon after she put the honey ham in the oven. sammy was up on her feet immediately at the sight, her competitive nature coming to a tilt - which meant that she needed the gingerbread building to be a competition, and claimed her boyfriend as her building partner.

logan doesn't protest the partnership, which leaves you and vince no choice - if this was the beginning of your stay with the dunn family, having vince be your partner would've sent you to the grave, but now with some of the negative air clearing, you don't hate the idea, but quickly into the start of your timed - yes sammy insisted the building to be timed - gingerbread house competition, vince is proving to be rather difficult to work with.

vince seems more interested in teasing you and trying to push your buttons in a almost flirtatious way, and if he's not talking, he's completely trying to change any of your previous work and alter the look of the gingerbread house - claiming 'it looks too similar to theirs, c'mon y/n/n we gotta step it up.'

"just get the gumdrops out." you dismiss him, looking away from his intense gaze and back towards the gingerbread. thankfully you've managed to get the house back into its original stature, and the house is looking less sad and lopsided than before - although some of the icing has glooped and dropped off the seams and made a sticky mess on the candy rock path.

vince snickers at your demand, finishing up with the icing residue on his thumb - because he knew if he passed you a sticky, icing covered gumdrop package you'd loose your mind. "where do you want them coach?" vince's words are softly spoken against your ear as and attempt to try and keep your discussion from being overheard by his sister and logan across the table.

you hold back the pleasant shutter that wants to take over your body, and keeping your eyes on the gingerbread house is the best way to stay calm and collected - if you look at vince right now you may crumble. what is wrong with you right now? "I think under the windows? a boarder around the house will bring it all together."

you gesture to the part of the house where the brown cookie meets the flimsy plastic base, which is only covered in icing and is severely lacking decor.

vince hums. "really? I feel like the roof is the only thing that looks incomplete. I think the gumdrops will look better there." he runs one of his fingers on the ridge where the two pieces of cookie meet, mimicking the point of a roof.

"what?" you screech slightly, gaze flickering between the cookie creation and vince. "I think the roof looks cute how it is - with the peppermint swirls"

"yes but look at logan and sammy's -" you do as he says and let yourself finally look at your friends gingerbread house. you can tell logan has had absolutely no say in the design of the house, and it's clearly the cause of a sammy dictation. vince continues, "all they've got on the roof is peppermint swirls. adding the gumdrops to our house will make it stand out. you want to win right?"

you look back at vince and nod definitively. "yes, I want to win."

he smiles. "atta girl, wanna put them on?"

you flush a deep red at his words. "no, you do it. If I do it you'll end up moving them anyways."

your teasing doesn't go unnoticed by vince, and he clicks his tongue in a playful manner, "yeah because you probably wouldn't of done it right."

the wine you've been sipping all afternoon and into the evening is definitely tinkering with your emotions - vince the same. it would explain how the evening between you is flowing so smoothly, and any teasing dig is met with laughter instead of anger. you giggle quietly, "you're so annoying."

vince ducks his head to keep your eye contact once you begin to smile downwards into your chest. his smirk doesn't dissolve, and if anything, it changes into a more sultry one. "I know you love it y/n/n, you can't deny it." he licks his bottom lip, wetting the pink skin so it glistens. vince chuckles, "now move your hand...unless you want to be covered in gum drops."

he then proceeds to add a single file line of gumdrops on the roof, sticking the widest part of the gummy candy into the dewy icing that holds the pieces in place. in the most obnoxious and high pitched voice you can manage, you repeat vince's words back to him. you watch as vince smiles and a few laughs bubble up his chest at your teasing - he doesn't look away from the task at hand and continues decorating your gingerbread house.

you feel like you're in freshman year again, stealing secretive glances at your best friends older brother while he wasn't paying attention. vince looks almost the same as he did when you were younger, but his teenage features have chiseled out, leaving him with the most sculpted and attractive profile. god this wine is really changing you - your fluttering heart and butterfly filled stomach are really a recipe for disaster.

"okay kids one more minute left for your houses, then dad and I will come in and judge them." tracy tells you all from around the corner, not quite yet coming fully into the kitchen to avoid spoiling the houses for herself. you hear sammy curse from her moms warning, and she starts frantically looking for the mini snowflakes to icing glue onto the window sills of her and logan's gingerbread house.

vince looks back towards you, and once he catches your gaze already on him, his smirk slinks back upwards. "any finishing touches?"

you're not even embarrassed at being caught, and you don't mind how smug vince looks at the sight of your clear attraction. you shake your head, "no...it's perfect."

vince can't help his eyes from flickering down to your lips, lingering on your wine painted flesh for a few moments before dragging his eyes back up your face. his brow quirks curiously, but the smile he's wearing never wavers. "I agree."

tracy and john come in after you've all cleaned up the area and presented your respective gingerbread houses in a viewing manner - displaying them proudly on the kitchen island. it doesn't take long for them to decide their winner, and when the dunn couple gestures to your amd vince's candy land themed house, you cheer. vince squeezes around your waist, pulling you into his side, exclaiming that he knew you could beat sammy.

that has her scoffing, "you two are so annoying." she's not being serious - the tiny smile on her face giving it away. logan kisses her temple reassuringly, promising that her gingerbread house is his favourite.

"don't be a sore loser." vince laughs, eyeing his sister victoriously.

"now, vince you're not one to talk." tracy corrects him, and a small smile pops on her face. she tries to hide it behind her hand as she continues. "you used to get so upset when you were little if we picked sammy's house. you'd cry like a baby and beg for us-"

"alright mom." vince stops her with laughter.

"oh my god, so you've always been a big baby?” you look up at him teasingly, a challenging lift to your eyebrows.

"oh, always." you laugh at that, allowing yourself to further lean into vince's side. he smells like grape wine and cinnamon, completed with a hint of store bought icing - an interesting combination by somehow its smells exactly like him.

it's an odd place to be - next to vince and so willingly giving in to the urges you've been suppressing for years. allowing yourself to be wrapped up in his presence and the comfort of all things vince - his almost always flirtatious smirk, the spicy scent he's always bathed in and the way his gaze always seems to linger.

you don't hate vince dunn - you never have. even when he broke you heart in freshman year and left you to cry silently beside his sister in bed, you didn't hate him, you just hated how he made you feel. you had a hard time accepting that vince didn't like you back - whether it was because you were too young or because he simply didn't feel that way for you, you struggled with that fact, which lead to your own feelings converting into a more harsh and negative outlook towards vince.

you realize now, even after 4 or 5 hefty glasses of warm wine, that you were wrong in the way of dealing with your feelings - and by no means does that excuse the way vince has behaved, but you are willing to hear him out....that is if he wants to talk about it. perhaps when you're both a bit more sober tomorrow - your brain reminds you quickly.

after a few classic movies - the grinch being sammy's pick and christmas vacation being johns - tracy had mentioned that santa won't come unless you're all in bed. her sing song tone has everyone giggling in the dim family room, only illuminated by the twinkling christmas tree in the corner, the laughter coming easy with your stomachs full of honey ham and wine.

it's not long after that, and a few more minutes of meaningless conversation, you all slowly head to bed. there's a good 5 minutes that sammy makes you lay face down in her bed while she wraps her secret santa gift (the queen of last minute). anytime she curses and you can hear the wrapping paper tear, it has you giggling into the pillow - which then leads to sammy trying to scold you but her giggles vito any kind of rebuke.

you're still not ready for bed by the time sammy finishes gift wrapping - which ended up being way longer than 5 measly minutes. as soon as she allows you to get off her bed, you're instantly calling dibs on the bathroom and you quickly grab your snowflake patterned toiletry bag and slip out of the room.

the bathroom is steamy, and the mirror along with the damp floor mat indicates somebody is not long out of the shower - presumably vince since he's the only other one on the upstairs floor.

you wipe the condensation off the mirror with the palm of your hand, cleaning the glass so you are able to properly see yourself while you unwind for the night. you begin going through your skin-care routine, granted with the alcohol pumping through your bloodstream, it isn't as skillful or in depth as it normally would be - when you wipe your face with the towel, there's black marks of mascara left behind.

you dig for your toothbrush in the clutter of your toiletry bag, excited for the last step in your night routine before you're able to get back in bed. you locate it and let out a triumphant breath - taking the tube of toothpaste out of the holder as you do so.

a knock on the open bathroom door stops you, and through the mirror you look up and see vince. you were correct in assuming it was him in the shower as he stands there now with damp hair, and fresh cologne scented skin - you're pretty sure there's still a few drops of water sliding down his pecks, because of course he's only got pyjamas bottoms on right now, leaving his torso completely bare.

"I forgot to brush my teeth." he says warmly. vince holds your eye contact through the mirror, watching the way you blink at him all flirtatiously - god this wine is really doing a number on your suppressed feelings.

you glance over your shoulder. "I don't mind company."

vince walks further into the dewy bathroom, rounding to the other side of you. he quirks a brow in your direction. "even mine?"

you watch him pick up his own toothbrush, gliding a dollop of toothpaste over the blue bristles. you put your own minty toothbrush in your mouth, holding it in your cheek momentarily. "even yours."

vince's smirk can't even be hidden by his toothbrush, which he shoves in his mouth - brushing his perfect teeth around his undeniable amused grin. his firm brushing movements, combined with his lack of shirt give you the perfect view to watch his muscles as they shift and flex beneath his soft skin, creating a much unexpected sensation to run through you.

vince catches your stare, the movements of his toothbrush coming to a slow pause as he looks back at you. you don't feel the need to shy away from his sensual gaze like you normally would find yourself doing, but instead you hold the eye contact - your own smile forming around the handle of the toothbrush.

you lean forward to spit into the sink, rinsing your mouth with some running water from the tap before rising back to your full height.

vince follows suit, spitting his excess foamy toothpaste into the sink, letting the water wash away any remnants down the drain. you put your toothbrush back into its respective holder and shove it back in your toiletry bag. you tuck your bag under your arm just as vince stands back up, wiping his mouth of any leftover water.

there's a moment then where you're just looking at one another through the foggy bathroom - your eyes locked together say enough than your mouths could ever. regret, apologies, uncertainty, teasing, flirting, the unkown...the gaze you're locked in says it all.

your belly swoops, and this time you know it's because of vince - it's always been because of vince. "goodnight vincent." the use of his full name is only used as a playful and amorous parting, and you blink towards him slowly and innocently. you turn away from him just as slow as your fluttering eyes.

his bottom lip tucks between his teeth as he watches you - vince knows that you know exactly what you're doing and it has him acting before his brain can even comprehend itself.

he grabs your wrist and spins you back around before you even step foot outside the bathroom. your bag falls to the floor from the sudden movement, and you know you didn't zip it properly, so you're not looking forward to dealing with that mess - but the way vince grabs your face roughly and kisses you has you forgetting all about it.

the kiss is immediately rough and fast - a mixture of longing and desire stemming from many years of doubt and fear, crumpled into one explosive kiss. you're both instantly grabbing at one another, desperate to feel one another to a greater extent. vince's hands are all over your body, like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most. he's running his fingers through your hair, gently tugging the roots at the base of your neck in a way that has you groaning into his mouth. his hands glide over your body, paying attention to every curve and dip as he holds and grabs you.

you’re no better with your hands frantically running over his toned exposed skin. your nails gently rake over his abs, and you can feel the affect the feeling has on vince as goosebumps form right under your fingertips. you're holding the budge of his biceps, keeping him close to you as you both continue the electric kiss. the room suddenly seams as steamy as ever, the thick and hot air surprising you, further contributing to the hurried movements and messy tangle of lips.

vince spins you around once again, so your back is towards the vanity mirror. your lower back bumps the edge of the ceramic countertop, and not even the bruising sting can register in your mind over the way vince is kissing and touching all over your skin. smoothly as ever, vince's lips pull away from yours, giving you the time and space to collect your laboured breath. his kisses move down from the corner of your mouth and across your warm jawline. you gasp and wither against him, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation of his sloppy kisses move towards your neck.

vince reaches the junction of your neck and shoulder, and he wastes no time in suckling the soft and flushed skin. without pulling away from you, he uses his foot to shut the bathroom door and the gentle thud echos throughout the hallway.

"is this okay?" he speaks against your skin, his mouth detaching from the blossoming hickey he'd been working on. vince fully pulls away from you, much to your dismay, and meets your gaze - a questioning haze in his eyes, reflecting his question.

you sigh, "yes. more than okay."

this time, you're the one to reach for him, and you pull his head down so you're able to meet for another heavy kiss. vince's tongue swipes against your bottom lip quickly, asking for entrance to further explore to kiss once again. you let him, again, letting your tongues glide and slip around one another in the midst of your make out.

vince uses his leg to gently prod your thighs apart, which you had previously been desperately clenching together in search of the tiniest bit of friction. as soon as vince's chiseled, defined leg muscle settles between your legs, providing a deliciously sharp and satisfying touch to your fluttering core, you're moaning.

instinctively, your hips begin to move against him, searching for that release. one of vince's hands leave its spot from where it was previously holding around your neck, and slinks down your body until he's landing on your ass. with a guiding hand, he firmly grabs ahold of one asscheek and begins to pull and push you over his thigh - helping your grind against him.

you pull away from his mouth as you become too built up with the empending release that is on the horizon. you breath heavily, and your eyes are screwed shut as vince continues to drag your clothed core against his covered thigh. you're sure your thin candy cane printed pyjama shorts are drenched in your own arousal, leaking onto the plaid material of vince's pants - but you don't even care or feel embarrassed...if anything it's turning you on further, and from the hard bulge pressing against your leg, it seems to be doing the same for vince.

vince's forehead falls against yours, bringing you back to the reality of the situation. through your lashes, you look up at him, only to find he's already watching you - watching every single twitch of a reaction on your flushed face. "I'm close." your sighed words are quickly morphed into a moan as vince's grip tightens on your ass.

"fuck. wanna come like this?" he questions quickly, continuing to move your hips forward and backwards against him.

you mewl slightly, and if you don't stop soon you will end up further soaking his pyjamas bottoms as you cum. "I want you to be inside of me."

"yeah?" vince breathes out, his guiding movements coming to a slow stop at your words. you nod against him, and your hips continue to jut over him at just the mere thought of vince filling you up. "fuck okay, let's turn around yeah?"

you let him handle you easily, vince spinning your body until your belly is pushing against the counter top. with a firm hand he pushes on the middle of your spine until you’re naturally lying flat on the counter, and your legs spread automatically.

vince is immediately pulling down your shorts and you moan out at the feeling of the material sticking to your seeping core, no doubt dripping with your edging release. the bathroom is burning hot, and the mirror has gone completely opaque from the steam caused by your and vince's interlocking lips and steamy touches. it has everything feeling much more sensual and sexy - and the tension of your impending release is becoming almost painful.

you wiggle your hips around, pushing as far back as you can with the limited space in search of vince's hips. "be paintent." vince tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and then you feel the press of his torso against your back. he presses a kiss to your exposed shoulder from where your oversized shirt has slipped down. "I was admiring the view." to further accentuate his words, two of his fingers slide through your wet folds, moving to collect your arousal.

you bite your lip, sighing pleasantly at the feeling of pressure from vince's fingers prodding your entrance, moving up to flutter over your throbbing clit. "you can admire the view another time, vince - please fuck me."

vince's large palm comes down and smacks the round of your ass. you let out a breathy laugh, the sound almost resembling a squeal at the feeling. it has vince smirking as he soothes the sting by rubbing over your reddening ass.

your laughter quickly shifts into a deep mewl as vince's head prods your entrance, almost immediately slipping into your opening from the dripping arousal. you push your hips backwards and he fully slides into you, filling you completely. your ass brushes against vince's hipbones, taking the length of his dick completely.

"shit." he curses, twitching inside you. vince grabs ahold of your hips, and immediately starts to pull out of you. just before his head has a chance of leaving your tight entrance, vince pushes his length back into you fully, igniting another round of moans from you both.

"keep doing that." you are practically begging him as you try and look over your shoulder and attempt to catch the sight of his length plummeting in and out of your pussy. you bite your lip, trying to hold onto some of the moans you're desperately wanting to let out. "fuck i'm not going to last long - you feel too good."

vince moans, and his eyes flicker away from where your bodies are frantically moving and connecting together in favour of meeting your eyes. "you're so hot, fuck the way you look at me - i'm trying really hard to not destroy you right now."

"you think you're hot stuff?" you challenge him, unable to resist the temptation of being playful with vince.

vince bites into his lips at your comment, holding onto his sultry smirk. without stopping his thrusts into you, he lets go of his grip on your hips and reaches up to your biceps. vince pulls your body off the counter, back until your flush against his warm chest. one of his hands wraps around your torso, keeping you in place, while his other reaches past you to wipe the sticky condensation off the mirror - giving you a hazy view of your intertwined bodies.

the sight of his dick nestled so far into your pussy is instantly making you moan, and you clench around his length automatically. vince curses at the feeling, and his hand that he used to wipe the mirror with now comes up around your shoulders and neck, wrapping around you to further keep you pressed to him. vince continues his forceful and steady thrusts into your entrance, and with the new angle of your bodies, they feel even deeper and better than before. "holy shit, vince - yes, just like that."

"can feel you squeezing me," he huffs into your neck, pressing a quick kiss to your salty skin. your shirt has slipped further down your arm, and has left your boob exposed, bouncing roughly against you as vince pounds into your pussy from behind.

it looks like something straight out of a porno in the bathroom mirror, and even through the fog that is building back over the mirror, you can see the way you're dripping onto the floor as your orgasm approaches.

your hand reaches up and grips vince's forearm, grounding yourself from his eye-rolling thrusts up into you. "you gunna cum, pretty girl? fuck you're making a mess on the floor."

"yes, yes, yes." you chant breathless, and your eyes begin to flutter shut as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. your head lolls backwards, falling against vince shoulder and as he continues his feverish pace into you, the band snaps and your orgasm comes to a hilt. "i'm cumming." you whine, your nails digging into the skin of vince's arm as you ride the high of bliss.

behind you, vince begins to chase his own approaching release. his hips smack against your ass at a frantic speed and he continues to thrust into your slippery, sopping pussy. his movements soon become less organized and in sync as he comes close. vince tilts you back down towards the counter, laying you down flat once more as he approaches his high. with only a few more rough pumps into you, vince pulls out of your warmth and blows his load onto your red ass, spewing up to your lower back and creating a sticky, hot, white mess on you. "holy shit."

"holy shit." you repeat.

a few beats pass until vince is cleaning his load off your body, delicately wiping away all traces of his cum with some tissue before immediately flushing the evidence down the toilet.

the bathroom is ridiculous hot and sticky, and no doubt your hair has turned into a frizzy and disgruntled mess. the thought of having to put your soaked pyjamas shorts back on is detrimental, and you're so worn out from vince taking you to pound town that you debate falling asleep on the counter - naked from the waist down and everything.

vince laughs gently at your lack of energy, and he lightly taps your ass cheek to grab your attention. he's pulled his pants back up, and there's a visible wet mark from your earlier grinding - but he doesn't mind one bit. "you need help getting up?"

"yeah." your muffled whine has him laughing further, but he doesn't ignore you. gently, vince helps you off the counter and into a standing position. your knees wobble slightly and vince's smirk grows. you eye him pointedly. "don't smirk - you did this to me."

"you asked for it." he reminds you gently. you scowl slightly, and that has vince's soft laughter continuing. you can't be upset when he helps you pull your pyjamas back on, letting you use his shoulder for balance as he makes you lift one foot at a time into the leg holes of your christmas jammies. "need help getting into bed?"

you walk slightly and although you're a bit shaky, you can still move somewhat normally. you look at vince, "no, i'll be okay." you look towards the mess on the floor caused by your spilled toiletry bag - various things of makeup and skincare scattered in the tiles. you don't think you have the capacity to bend down and pick that up right now.

as if he can read your mind, vince bends down and begins to gather your things. "I can clean this - it's the least I could do." he looks up at you from one knee and sends you a quick wink. for a second you have the dirty thought of vince on his knees in front of you, except of cleaning up your things he's got you pushed against a wall, your legs spread open as he attacks your pussy with his mouth - licking and kissing against your heat until you’re screaming.

unfortunately you don't think your trembling body could handle that right now - it can barley handle standing. so instead of that, you smirk down at him. "goodnight."

"goodnight," his smile widens.

after one more sultry glance, you hobble back down the hall and towards sammy's room. you gently open the door, trying your best to keep quiet. like you hoped it would be, the room is completely dark and the sound of sammy's light snoring alerts you to her sleeping state.

you celebrate internally, happy that you don't have to answer a line of questions about why you've been in the bathroom for 30 minutes when you should've only been gone for 10 max.

you slip into bed gently, allowing your racing heart to have a chance to finally return to its normal beating pattern. thoughts of vince and the activities you've just participated in together - in the childhood bathroom no less - running through your mind. as much as you enjoyed and loved the sex you just experienced with vince, the question about your relationship still remains.

you're not sure if the sex will change anything between you, negatively or positively, but you know the conversation needs to happen. as you're falling into a slumber, dread as well as excitement is flowing through your veins - the unknown of it all very much present.

december 25th

"we have arrived - merry christmas!" sammy's voice is rather cheerful considering the early morning, but it is christmas so that's definitely a factor to her tone. you follow behind her down the stairs as you both descend into the family room, both in your christmas pyjamas and slightly hungover - you in different pyjamas than the ones you ruined last night.

"merry christmas!" tracy cheers from the couch, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. she looks not long awake, with her eyes still squinty and smile still sleepy. it's only 8 o'clock , but the tradition in the dunn household on christmas morning was always an 8 a.m. wake up call, and that wasn't going to change this year.

it seems like you and sammy are the last ones downstairs with the sight of tracy on the couch and john beside her, his own steaming mug sitting on a santa face coaster on the coffee table. just then, vince emerges from the kitchen with two mugs in his hands. you can smell hot chocolate, so you can only assume that's the contents of the coffee mugs.

"oh vince, are those for us?" sammy is instantly bounding over to her brother. she leans in and sniffs the drink, and a bright smile grows on her face as she does so. she takes her gnome design mug out of his hands, and skips over to the couch with her hot chocolate - merely missing spilling the entire drink on the rug.

vince passes you the other mug wordlessly. it is hot chocolate, completed with mini marshmallows and tiny pieces of crushed candy canes - a christmas morning classic. you look up at him gently, and you can't help the bright smile that grows on your lips at just the sight of vince. "hey, thanks."

vince nods and...that's it. he walks passed you and around the reclining chair that lines the entrance of the family room. your face falls with disappointment, and you can't help but feel embarrassed regarding the hopes following your actions last night. it's fine if vince still doesn't want you in any way thay you've been wanting him, but not even a 'you're welcome' or a 'hello’ stings.

you take a seat beside sammy, who once you're seated , immediately starts pitching to her parents on why she should be the first to open her secret santa present. your best friends voice helps you stay distracted in not looking over at vince adjacent from you - sitting silently in the recliner.

the lights from the tree twinkle is your peripheral vision, a constant in your eyes as you try and focus on the present and not dwell on the unknown with vince. as tracy moves across the tree in retrieval for her daughters gift, you're blinking back into reality once again, the light pattern changing is what brings you back. once her mom passes her the santa wrapping paper covered box, sammy is immediately tearing it apart. you smile automatically, always pleased with how excitable sammy gets when it comes to holidays and opening presents.

she pulls out the lilac fuzzy robe and matching slippers that you'd wrapped between layers of tissue paper in the box, and she's immediately gasping out. "I love it - somebody clearly knows me well."

"okay, we'll save your guess until the end." tracy reminds her daughter, but she's looking between all of you as she says it. "don't want to ruin the surprise for anybody else." tracy ends up going next after john suggested it, and she ends up opening a beautiful set of holiday mugs filled with different teas, coffees and treats - cookies, candy canes and chocolates all stuffed into the mugs. she of course loves it, and instantly tells vince that his next trip into the kitchen she wants to try one of her new teas.

you're the next one to open a present, and a rather large box is sitting on your lap. it's wrapped in reflective silver wrapping paper, and a large red bow sits on the top corner of the present. curious about the gift inside the stunning and well done wrapping, you tear it open.

"you're not doing it fast enough - rip the damn paper cindy lou." sammy grunts beside you, obviously impatient. you giggle just as you finally unwrap the box. saving sammy and yourself from the curiosity of the contents of inside, you lift the lid off the box. at the sight of the gift, your face falters slightly. under a layer of red tissue paper, starring back at you in the christmas blanket from the boutique downtown.

the soft christmas blanket decorated with vintage homes and snowflakes that you had fallen in love with only two days ago. you know there's only one person who could've known about the blanket and that's the only person in this living room who was in that store. your eyes flicker towards vince. he's still not smiling - he's not even looking at you.

tracy gasps, "oh wow that's beautiful!" you feel your face heat up with a mixture of disappointment, disbelief and sadness. you feel overwhelmed and confused by the contradictory messages of vince's actions, and you feel like the room is shrinking as you continue to look between vince and the blanket in your lap. without wanting to make too much of a scene, you put the gift on the coffee table. "sorry, I just need to step away for a moment."

"oh, okay - are you alright?" tracy questions gently, her warm eyes following you as you walk through the family room and towards the stairs.

"yeah, of course. please continue, i'll be back soon." you quickly make your way back up the carpeted steps, trying your best to hold in all your confused thoughts and emotions until you're in a private space - to top everything off, your feel ridiculous and the guilt is starting to sink in that you’ve ruined christmas.

you step into sammy's open bedroom and place a hand to your burning forehead - an attempt at doing something to calm down. you let your eyes flutter to a close, and take a few deep breaths. you feel so uncertain and overwhelmed with this weird unknown tension lingering between you and vince, and you're scared having sex with him last night did the complete opposite of what you hoped for. you're scared that vince doesn't view you as anything more than just a stranger - a body he's been moving around for years and disregarding because he's got no real connection or feelings for.

with the sex last night, you had the impression that it would act as that changing factor you've been searching for for years. this christmas seemed to be the very top of the tall mountain you and vince have been chasing each other up for years, pushing at one another to see who would be the first to break that climb - but now you think you may have fallen backwards instead of coming down the other side with vince beside you.

"are you okay?" vince steps into the room, the floorboard that sits directly under the doorframe creaks from his weight. when you were younger you hated that floorboard, it made for sammy and you to sneak out very hard, and most of the time it was the reason you'd just stay home instead of going out and partying with the senior boys team back in high school.

"no, i'm not okay - what are we doing?" your hands fall, and the pure exhaustion of dealing with your own scrambled thoughts is seemingly catching up to you. you feel like complete jello, even more so than after last night - your nerves about this whole ordeal at an all time high. "why do you hate me, vince? what did I do to make you hate me?"

vince is confused, naturally. he walks further into sammy's bedroom, closer to you. "you think I actually hate you?"

a mixture between a disbelieving laugh and a scoff forms in the back of your throat. "you're not giving me many reasons which tell me that you like me, are you? and no, fucking me against the bathroom counter really doesn't count as a good reason, at all." maybe your latter comment was uncalled for, sure, but your head is still reeling with a jumbled collection of thoughts and insecurities, that you really don't care.

vince runs a hand through his hair, his fingers almost frantic like he's not sure what to do with them. he licks his bottom lip gently, and he slowly looks around your face. you feel yourself wanting to blush - needing to blush - under his intense gaze, but you don't allow yourself to get flustered. vince sighs gently, and his brows dip in disappointment. "I don't hate you, y/n - I could never hate you." vince is disappointed in himself for treating you so poorly to the extent of which you thought he hated you - that was never his intention.

"then why did you act like you did?" your bottom lip trembles with emotion, and you hate that feeling. you don't want to seem weak or affected by his behaviour, even if it has made you upset - especially if he's about to tell you that you mean nothing to him...again.

vince sighs gently, his large eyes swimming with a hundred different emotions of his own. "because i'm a dick...and I was confused and maybe even a little scared." he pauses, swallowing his nerves as they begin to creep up his throat. you still look unsure, so vince continues. "I would act a certain way around you because I didn't know how else to act - or what to do. anytime I was mean or rude or acted this nasty way towards you it wasn't because I didn't like you, it was because I liked you too much. every petty comment, look or action was a bad attempt at me stopping myself from kissing you."

you inhale sharply, "what?"

"back in high school I was confused by my feelings for you. god, y/n I was constantly thinking about you and everything you did- it was consuming me. I thought nothing could happen because you were my younger sister's best friend...so when I kissed you at that party and I felt my feelings intensify, I pushed you away because I was scared." he takes a step closer, now in arms reach from you. you watch him curiously, intently listening to vince's words.

“so I would be mean and act like that kiss meant nothing - that you meant nothing because I let my pride get in the way. I thought I couldn't get hurt if I was the one who was hurting you - that turned out to be bullshit. I hate what i've done to you and how I've acted towards you. this christmas was the first time I let myself love you the way I always have and - can you please say something here because i'm totally freaking out.”

you blink once....and then twice. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fishes would, but you're not even focused on that right now. the shock confession from vince is the only thing you hear - the only thing you've ever wanted to hear from him and he just said it. you blink a third time, "why did it take so long for you to say that?"

"you had a boyfriend - you were dating my old friend and you seemed happy. I didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship by being selfish and telling you how I feel...even if seeing you with evan killed me."

you nod in understanding - it makes sense, it's starting to all makes sense. although, you still can't be too sure. if vince is telling the truth, which you're pretty positive he is just based on how distraught and flustered he looks standing here now and telling you this - but there is one lingering comment that hasn't left your mind since the christmas tree farm, one that you need clarification on. "what did you mean by the real me?"

vince sighs - not an irritated or angry sigh, but rather like he knew the question was coming. "the real you means before you needed to put your guard up around me - before I turned into a complete idiot and you turned into a stranger. I meant it in the most sincere and positive way, and the comment stemmed from my own guilt and actions...i'm so sorry, y/n. for everything."

"evan was right," you start quietly, your voice still timid. "all that hating each other stuff wasn't believable. vince i've loved you since you moved here and i've never stopped."

he exhales in visible relief at your confession and for the first time this christmas morning, vince touches you, gently taking ahold of your warm cheeks between his palms as he cradles you in his hands. his thumbs stroke your cheeks soothingly, a much needed comfort you've been needing from him. "seriously?"

you nod against him. "seriously...and i'm sorry too."

"you don't need to apologize to me." vince is interrupts you softly, the beginning stages of his usual smirk tugging at his lips. "you've never done anything wrong or unwarranted that makes me deserve your apology, okay?"

"okay." you sigh.

vince smiles and slowly, his thumb moves down your face until he's gliding over your bottom lip. it's swollen from you constantly biting it, as well it's bruised from the pressure of his kiss last night. he gently pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb and the he leans down towards you open mouth and kisses you.

your lips pops back into place as his thumb releases it, and it immediately morphs around vince's mouth to complete the perfect kiss. this kiss is different from the one last night - even from the one many years ago during 7 minutes in heaven. there's no rushing or uncertainty, and the way your lips mold together and pass over one another is nothing but magic.

you sigh pleasantly against his mouth, pulling him impossibly closer by his hoodie. you can feel vince smile against your lips, the feeling of you so desperate and pleased as you slip your hands under the bulk of his sweatshirt and run along his bare skin, is the best feeling vince has ever felt - you are the best thing vince has ever known.

"are you guys coming downstairs or what?" johns voice is teasing as he calls up the stairs, and you can practically hear the knowing smirk just through his tone.

"yeah, stop making out and lets open these damn gifts." sammy sounds farther away than her dad, like she's still sitting on the couch as she calls for you and her brother.

you and vince pull away from one another, slightly breathless but grinning. "she's your sister." you brush past him, gently poking him in the side as you pass by.

immediately, vince grabs a bowl of your wrist and pulls you back towards him. it has you squealing slightly, letting yourself be pulled back into his embrace effortlessly. "she's your best friend" vince brushes the tip of his nose along yours, giving you a soft eskimo kiss.

your face scrunches at the tickly sensation. "yeah well, your sister and my best friend is going to kill both of us if we don't go back downstairs."

vince groans and reluctantly releases you from his tight grip. after all, if sammy is irritated with you both for holding up the present opening, could you imagine how mad she'd be if vince fucked you on her bed. you giggle slightly at the thought, walking out of sammy's bedroom and back down the hallway.

just before you can make the descend back downstairs, vince pushes up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he whispers in your ear. "I love you." to further his point, he kisses your cheek, sending butterflies loose through your entire body.

you will always love vince dunn.

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[ultravi0lence14]

LIKE YOU MEAN IT

SAM WINCHESTER X READER

WARNINGS: down bad sammy, pet names, unprotected p in v, creampie, overstimulation, hair pulling

WORD COUNT: 595

“fuck, baby”. . . thrust. . . “you’re so”. . . thrust. . . “fucking”. . . thrust. . . “tight”

sam’s groans and deep thrusts were annunciated with the bang of the headboard against the wall. your mouth was wide open, soundless moans and mewls stuck in the back of your throat as sam fucked you dumb. you’d been at it for what felt like hours, your third orgasm cresting over the horizon of pleasure as sam pounded into your sopping cunt.

he had ate you out like a man starved, lapping up the juices that poured out of you like it was his final duty. sam had even let you ride him, tits bouncing in his face as your nails scratched down his chest. you could remember his breathy moans, the way his voice sounded when he groaned out, “that’s it, baby, fuck yourself on my cock. you squeeze me so fuckin’ good, gonna fill you up until you’re choking on my come.”

that was two blissful orgasms ago, and now he had sprawled on your back, legs high in the air, your thighs pressed into your chest as he fucked you into the mattress. sam’s thrusts were punishing, his strong arms caging your body as one hand held the headboard and the other took fistfuls of your hair. one hard thrust had your vocal cords ripping back to life, loud moans crashing past your lips as sam repeatedly hit that spot inside of you that left a lethargic feeling in your chest.

“ahh, fuck sam,” you mewled, words broken off with high pitched moans as you gripped tightly onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “oh god, right there. fuck, right there sam, you feel so fucking good.”

sam just smirked, pulling out all the way until only his tip was left inside of your tight cunt. you went to whine, ready to beg sam to keep moving, yet your words were cut off with a loud moan as he rammed his cock back inside of you, repeating that same motion over and over again.

each brutal thrust of sam’s dick punched the air out of your lungs, and when he felt your gummy walls clamp around him, he couldn’t help but smirk to himself. “you gonna come, angel face?” he asked with a smile, hand gripping your hair tighter to tilt your chin up. “gonna drench my dick? let me pump you full of my seed? c’mon, lovie, let me feel you.”

his filthy words had you coming with a scream, and sam wasn’t far behind, his come drenching your insides, dripping out around his dick and making a creamy ring around the area where you two were connected. the bliss you felt post orgasm was blinding, though nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of sam quickly pulling out of you before flipping your body around, hand going back into your hair and pulling you back until you were on your knees, back against his chest.

when he thrusted into you from behind, you couldn’t help the loud moan that left your lips. sam’s pace was bruising, not allowing you to get used to the feeling of him back inside of you before he was ramming his dick into the spongy spot inside of you.

“you got one more?” he asked with a coo, licking up your sweat soaked neck before nibbling by your collarbone. “what am i saying, of course my girls got one more in her.” sam didn’t stop until you were both throughly fucked, many orgasms and hours later until he finally pulled out of you for good.

TAGS: @starzify @titsout4jackles @daylighted @deansbeer @sunsbaby @haunteres @figthoughts @bluemerakis @h8aaz @dulcescorderitas @honeyryewhiskey