#that shirt looks unrealistically beautiful on him

[cnth-rb]

Cooking something rn

[leeechin]

☆ piano player bf sunghoon ! (18+!!!) 🎹 🎼 🎧

warnings: nonidol!au, sunghoon plays the piano, semi public sex, fingering (f.rec), sunghoon fingers reader infront of his piano lol, pet names (hoonie, baby, sweetheart), lowercase intended, dom! hoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before tapping), slight unrealistic writing of the piano (?), barely any plot again, sorry.

word count: ( 1.6k )

♡ masterlist

you're getting ready to leave your shared apartment with sunghoon, he was in the middle of his last piano lesson he gave to kids. you were so excited to see your boyfriend after many hours, today being one of the few days your work gave you a day off. and you were going to make sure every second of this day would be spent with sunghoon.

sending your boyfriend a quick text that you were on the way, grabbing your keys from the key bowl you and sunghoon had, walking down the stairs to your car.

you felt so giddy once you arrived at sunghoon's work, greeting his co workers and going to the room he was teaching, knowing that he was now wrapping up the lesson.

you opened the door to see sunghoon shuffling thru the neat pile of music notes, placing them into a folder and handing it to the kid he just finished the lesson with.

the kid looks up to you, a huge grin splayed across her face. you give her a smile in return. "sunghoon is this your girlfriend?" the girl asks, sunghoon nods in response. the girl turning her attention back to you. "you’re so pretty! like a princess!" she compliments. you give your a boyfriend a joyful look as he grins widely at you in return. sunghoon gets up from his seat, bringing the folder of organized music sheets inside, handing it to the little girl. "practice the first two sheets and we'll work on more the next time i see you."

"okay! see you sunghoon and princess girlfriend!" the girl exclaims. you smile again at what the little girl called you. sunghoon moves next to you one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. "see you next week hana." sunghoon bidding his goodbye for the week.

looking up to the opened door, the receptionist guiding hana back to the main lobby. "you have no more lessons for the day." she says. "alright. i'm staying behind for a bit. i wanna show y/n a little piece of mine i composed." sunghoon says, the receptionist nodding in return, closing the door behind her.

you turn to face sunghoon, body still in his embrace. placing a small kiss on his lips. "composed a little something for you." sunghoon murmurs against your lips, giving you another quick before pulling away.

"i'm all ears hoonie." you respond, watching as your boyfriend moved towards the piano.

you drank in the sight of him in his white button up shirt and black trouser. it was so simple but looked so good on him, the sleeves slightly rolled up showing his muscly arms. you thank his friends for pushing him to go to gym more often. and you couldn’t even get started on his hands, thinking about all the he's wrapped them around your throat, how his long slender fingers stuffed in you so deep everytime he fingered you.

sunghoon placed his finger on the keys of the piano, noticing how you've been gazing his hands a little too long. you swear you came to visit your boyfriend with no intentions but wanting to spend time with him, it was just too hard to resist how hot your boyfriend when he's playing the piano.

"focus elsewhere? you like the piano?" sunghoon teases. "what piano?" you respond quickly, snapping out of your trance once you've realized what you said.

sunghoon laughs at your realization, gesturing for you to stand a bit closer to his piano. "cmon baby focus. i'll give you what you want after this." testing out the keys with a quickly melody before starting to play the piece he composed. the beautiful sounds of the piano filling the room.

"fuck baby you're gonna have to be quiet for me." sunghoon murmurs against the skin of your neck. off key sounds of the piano fill the room as you hold onto it, your hands occasionally crashing onto it whenever you lift your hands. sunghoon has two of his long slender fingers stuffed deep into your pussy, going in and out of you at a relentless pace.

sunghoon brings his hand that’s been resting over your tit to the piano keys, playing a little composition, attempting to cover up the fact that he's two fingers deep in you. "feels so good hoonie." you whine biting your bottom lip so hard to suppress any moans leaving your mouth. "shit baby gotta have you ride my face one day." sunghoon grunts. a loud gasp escapes your lips when sunghoon adds a third finger. he's quick to bring his hand that's been playing the piano to cover your mouth.

"be a good girl for me. you don't want anybody to walk in seeing me stretch out your cunt with my fingers do you sweetheart?" you whine a yes against his hand, a smirk plastered on sunghoon's at the sight of you.

you were seated on his lap, back leaning against his front, slightly arched from how sunghoon was fingering you. tears streaming down your face from the sensation. baby tee slightly wrinkly up from sunghoon's hand going under it earlier, gray pleated skirt bunched out with your panties pulled to the side.

it was such a mess, you were such a mess. a couple of sunghoon's music sheets scattered on the floor. it was all too good for neither of the two of you to care. your boyfriend now three fingers deep in you. clouds were starting to fill your vision, you swear that you were in heaven. throwing your head back when sunghoon's fingertips hit that one spot that turned your legs into jelly.

"are you close baby?" sunghoon asks, picking up his pace, moving his thumb on the hand that was fingering you to rub your clit to add on to the stimulation.

trusting you to not make any sounds as he removed his hand that was covering your mouth to go under your shirt again, grabbing and resting on one of your tips, messily fondling with the bra strap to where it was sliding down your shoulder. "yes." you whine.

your words were soft as you were quick to take your bottom lip under your upper lip trying to fulfill your boyfriend's requests of no sounds. i mean after all, you guys were in the room he uses to teach people the piano!

"shit baby i can feel you clenching so tight around my fingers." sunghoon murmurs, kisses peppering around your nape. the faint melody of one of his hands playing the piano again. you start to let out soft noises, lucky that the piano keys were covering the sounds.

"m' cumming hoonie! please!" you throw your head back against his shoulder, hands crashing forward on the piano keys, sunghoon shushes you, slowing down his pace as your orgasm hits you, body slightly shaking.

"you did so good for me sweetheart, such pretty sounds you make too." sunghoon praises, the sound of him sucking his fingers that were covered in your release. he groaned at the sweet taste of you. standing you up infront of his piano, turning you around to place a kiss on your lips, you moaned against sunghoon's lips at the taste of you, moving your hands to unbutton a couple buttons of his shirt.

sunghoon's quick to pull away from your guys' kiss, carefully closing the top that covered his piano keys, turning you around. your hands landed over the cover, bent over his piano. you push your hips back, ass wiggling cutely. "hoonie wanna feel you inside." you beg, feeling his large hands hold your hips to keep you in place. "gonna have to be quick sweetheart." he grunts, pulling down his trousers just enough for his dick to spring out.

giving his cock a few tugs before aligning his tip to your entrance, sunghoon hisses when when he pushes in, immediately feeling how your velvety walls sucked in and clenched around his length. forgetting what your boyfriend told you, a loud moan escapes your lips at the feeling of sunghoon bottoming out, every inch of him filled deep into your messy pussy.

"gotta be quiet baby." sunghoon reminds you, stuffing two fingers in your mouth to suppress any sounds. your eyes half lidded and rolling back as sunghoon fastened his pace, mercilessly pounding deep into your cunt. you push your hips back wanting more of sunghoon. a harsh slap is delivered across your ass, making you moan against sunghoon's digits in your mouth.

sunghoon's hand on your hip holds you tightly as he continued slamming into you, sounds of his hips hitting against your ass filled the room, with your muffled cries and moans. you guys sure were hoping no one was hearing the two of you outside of the door.

"baby m' gonna cum, finish with me like the good girl you are." sunghoon says, finishing deep inside your fluttering cunt as he slowed down his pace stilling inside of you. that triggered your release to follow shortly after, a few tears dragging down your face at the intense orgasm.

your boyfriend helps you place your panties back in place properly, pulling your skirt down so that it was covering your ass again. he turned you around wiped your tear streaked face before fixing himself up again, also tidying up the scattered music sheets on the floor.

you pull sunghoon for a loving kiss. "you don’t think they heard us right?" you ask, "don’t think so." sunghoon responded. the two of guys agreed to that, knowing deep inside you guys didn’t try as hard to contain the sounds.

walking down the hallway hand in hand, you and sunghoon run into sunoo. both you and sunghoon being stopped in your tracks. sunoo throws you two a disgusted look, covering both of his ears dramatically.

"you guys are lucky that kid was the last person of the day for a lesson! my poor ears!"

[hyunsvngs]

wc: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. this is a piss fic, unrealistic shower sex, PISS like seriously, oral (m & f rec), inexperienced reader, switchy jisung (he's whiny), dirty talk, unprotected sex & creampie, brief hair pulling, brief choking

a/n: and when i said my return to stayblr would be a piss fic i meant it! AND THANK U TO 🐇 anon for commissioning this u are a babe <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung’s patient. He was ever so patient with you all along, actually, hands roaming your sides hesitantly over your t-shirt when you first made out. You had to physically move his palms onto your skin for him to take some initiative - “I’m not a virgin, Jisung,” you’d squeal, legs thrashing in protest.

You've finally gotten to the point where Jisung will touch you. He tries to initiate sex more often than not now, and you’re a happy recipient. There’s never once been a situation around him where you haven’t wanted to fuck him - he’s a beautiful person, to say the least, with his big round eyes and even bigger cock. He’s delicious.

In fact, you’re sure you’ve gotten to the peak of your sexual relationship with him until you hear the bathroom door open. It’s a normal day, save for the fact that you were about two seconds from pissing in the shower after skipping that step. It’ll save time, you can just do it in the shower - until you hear the rustling of clothes, a sweet tune being hummed, and then the shower curtain is being pulled back to reveal your honey-skinned boyfriend.

He crowds behind you in the shower, and you’re left with wide eyes. Skipping your pre-shower pee on the toilet is one thing, but you’re getting a little desperate now and you’d thought you could just let it go in the shower. Now, your boyfriend is naked, pressed against you with his nose brushing up against your neck. His hands trace your sides absentmindedly, dipping down to stroke over your tummy. His hair is already damp from the water, and it curls inwards to frame his face, tickling your skin. 

“Jisung…”

He hums, pressing a kiss into your neck. “Do you want me to get out, baby?”

You shake your head. You don’t. You don’t think you’d ever not want him around you, especially not naked. “It’s not that.”

“Let me help you relax, my baby. Can I?”

You’re getting desperate to pee now. In lieu of words you nod, shaky, and he reaches for your shower gel. Instead of squirting it on your loofah, he dribbles it straight into his hands, and the feeling of his wet, soapy palms on your back is more than relaxing. His hands run down your skin, over your shoulders, just barely tracing your breasts, and then he presses down on your tummy just that little bit firmer. 

Oh God. You feel a drop run down your thigh, and it definitely was not the water. 

“Jisungie,” You say, and Jisung pauses. He hums in response, and you sigh. “I just- I needed to pee, so I was just gonna-“

His hands pause. “Here?” Jisung says. His voice is shaky too now, and you realize his fingertips are starting to dig into your sides. “Oh. Oh, right.”

It’s a little awkward. The shower still beats down on you both, and Jisung’s hold just gets tighter and tighter until - oh. He’s hard. It presses against your ass, thick and throbbing, and you feel him shuffle a little to try and avoid you feeling it.

“You’re… hard?”

“You’re naked in front of me talking about- about peeing,” He whispers, and when you turn to him his cheeks are red. He scrunches his eyes shut, looks to be willing his erection away, but it stays unflagging. You move fully to face him, hands moving to his shoulders. “I- Baby. Would you let me see? Do it- do it on me. Or just-”

“Jisung,” You gasp, eyes wide. He’s into that? That’s new. It’s new even for your time of sexual exploration, and it has you shifting from one foot to another in decision. Can you? Will you? You realise that yeah, you will.

“I’m sorry,” He blushes. He’s still hard, but embarrassed - you know that just makes him even hornier. You’re going to do it. 

“I’ll do it. For you.”

He immediately drops to his knees.

“Will you? Oh, will you, jagi?” You’re not sure you could say an outright no. You’re nervous, sure, with how new this all is, but the water from the shower is beating down on Jisung’s honey skin so rapidly that well - you want to see him get even wetter. You let out a shaky breath, thighs trembling, and then you’re nodding. “Oh, baby. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you-“

“Jisungie,” You say, voice timid. He nods in response, runs his hands up your inner thighs, palms dewy with the water. His round eyes earnestly look up at you, bottom lip quivering. He looks innocent, and it’s almost as if he didn’t drop to his knees immediately upon hearing that you needed to pee. “Help me, honey. Help me relax.”

He has to. He dives in, mouth wrapping around your clit, and you let him nudge your thighs apart with his fingertips. It’s a little precarious, balancing in the shower, but the suction around the pudge of your clit has you gripping onto the shower curtain with trembling hands. Jisung’s nothing if not a good eater, and he always finishes his meal - his tongue dips down to your slit with a deep groan at your taste. 

“Y’ready for me now?” He murmurs into you, the vibrations making you whine. He pulls back and reaches up with a firm hand, pressing on the base of your tummy, just where your bladder rests. His eyes flicker up to you, intense and dark, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen this look on his face before. He looks downright debauched, waiting for your piss and still trying to take control of the situation like he always does. “Be a good girl for Sungie, yeah? Piss all over me. Get me dirty with it.”

“Fu-uck,” You whimper, lips falling apart. You’re heaving wet breaths, body still subconsciously fighting against the urge to let go, but a firmer press on your bladder has the trickle starting without your permission. 

“Oh, baby, yeah,” Jisung keens, his other hand moving to rub circles against your clit. When he pulls your mound backwards with his thumb, the stream erupting from your pussy only gets stronger, hitting Jisung’s chest and soaking his skin with it. It trickles down his skin, eventually hitting the smattering of his pubic hair and the base of his cock, and Jisung whines with it. “Oh my god, baby, you’re so sexy. More! More, give me more, pleasepleaseplease, be a good girl for me.”

“I am being good, Jisungie,” You moan, the relief of your bladder emptying all too satisfying. It just keeps coming, and when the stream finally trickles out, Jisung surges forward to wrap his lips around your clit. A sharp suck has you gasping out a whine, gripping onto the mess of his hair, but he can only flick his tongue over you once, twice before he’s sliding up onto his feet.

He crowds into your space once again. He turns you around, your back facing him, and the whole situation is so precarious that you’re terrified that one of you is going to break a limb. Your pussy is so wet at this point though that you know you’re going to let him take you here, just like this, raw and messy.

“Bend over,” He ushers, forcing you into the corner of the shower. The shelves containing all of your toiletries rattle with the harshness of his movement, and you squeal, gripping onto the sides.

“Jisungie, baby, I’ll fall-”

“You won’t. I-I’ve got you, jagi, I promise,” Jisung insists, and he crowds behind you once again. With a swift movement, his cockhead presses against your hole, still slick from the mess you’ve made all over him, and he uses one hand to brush it through your folds teasingly. “Do you want it? F-fuck, baby, tell me.”

Your head is spinning. Of course you want it. He always fills you up so good, and he’s so caring, so thorough with his touches. “I want it. I want it, I want it, I want it, please-”

He sinks inside of you with his own sharp keen. He’s so thick that the stretch has you reaching out to clutch onto the built-in shelves tighter, your lips parting in a deep sigh. “That’s it. G-god, that’s it, Jisung.”

“Yeah? You like it?” He moans, and you see his hand emerge over your head. He grips onto the shelf for leverage, and then his hips start to smack into your ass, eager and messy. You groan out for him regardless, with his length filling you up just right. “That’s it, yeah? You l-like it like that, baby?”

“Yes, yeah, Jisungie, I like it like that,” You nod eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. You hear his feet hit the floor in an effort to reposition himself, and when he manages to get better footing, the next thrust is so sharp it has you crying out. “Ah! There, therethere, please, please!”

He groans in pleasure at the change of angle, his cock hitting you deeper, and his hand moves upwards to tug at your hair. The movement bends your back to rest your head on his shoulder, and the water from the shower is completely forgotten - it could be ice cold now for all that you know. He’s gripping at your waist, hips, and your tits, pulling you back onto his thrusts and shaking every bottle on the shelf, and all you can do is whine and moan through every thrust. 

“It’s so- it’s so good,” Jisung huffs, head lolling against yours, and you have to turn and look at him. His hair is positively soaked by now, dripping down his face, and his lips stay parted, moans and whines tumbling out from deep inside his chest. “T-thank you, baby. For pissin’ on me, and- and this, fuck, your pussy is so fucking good, so tight, so wet.”

His voice is strained, garbled as if he’s trying to force the words out, and you gasp out at a particularly rough thrust. His thrusts are getting more uneven, less precise, and his teeth start to nibble at your shoulder. 

All of a sudden, you feel a familiar wetness flood inside of you. Jisung’s orgasm is sudden and intense, his hips stilling as he empties deep inside your pussy, his muscles trembling and his breath ragged.

“F-fuck,” He moans, pushing at your ass to slide you away from him. “Baby, on your knees. Get on your knees, please, you gotta keep it hard.”

He has at least part of his mind still intact, you assume, because he flicks the switch on the shower and leaves you both standing there drenched. Still, you don’t let it deter you, dropping to your knees to suckle at his soaking wet length. He’s covered in a mixture of his cum and your wetness, and you moan when the flavour hits your tongue, bobbing your head on half of his shaft.

“Yeah, like that, just-” He cuts himself off with a grunt, pushing your head down further on him. It makes your eyes water, but you persevere, suckling on his length. He’s getting into a headspace that he doesn’t get into often - he’s being rougher with you, more eager to take, take, take, and you can only let him. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck, hnng, baby, baby, suck on it. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease!”

It did work, at least. His erection stays unflagging even after him cumming inside of you, and he lets you play around for a little - you swirl your tongue around his cockhead, suckling on it a little, but it’s your tongue dipping into his piss slit that has him yanking at your hair.

Jisung pulls you upwards, tongue immediately pressing between the seam of your lips while his hand wraps in your hair, and then he’s ushering you out of the shower. “Over the sink,” He says, breathless, his eyes round and wide. “Please, baby. Let me fuck you over the sink.”

“O-Okay,” You respond, voice hoarse, but it’s a quick movement for you to hop out and bend over for him. Jisung’s back inside of you in his own swift movement, cock stretching you out once more, and the hand that swats at your ass makes you gasp. “Jisung-”

“I have to make this pussy cum,” Jisung rambles, and you nod eagerly, hands propping you up on the sink. You see your reflection in the mirror, Jisung’s hair soaking wet and water dripping down his chest, and the sight makes you clench down hard. He gasps, sharp and loud. “Ah! Ah, baby, careful, lemme- lemme make you cum, please. Been- been so good for me, pissin’ so nice and then sucking me- let me make you cum, let me-”

“Harder,” You insist, fingers wrapping around the edge. Your gaze is focused on the mirror, on the way your bodies move together while Jisung fucks into you. He listens to you, hips slapping against your ass harder while also fucking into you deeper, which is just as hard to handle. His cockhead kisses the bottom of your cervix with every thrust, making your eyes roll back into your head with a sharp keen. “Yeah! Yeah, yesyesyes, baby, Jisungie, more, just a little- a little more, I’ll cum, I’ll cum-”

“Yeah?” He groans, dragging you upwards with a firm hand around your throat. His lips press a kiss into your hairline, quick and swift, and you see his face appear right next to yours into the mirror. It’s then you notice how fucked out you look - your lips are swollen, hair wet and messy, drool slicking the bottom of your chin. “Cum for me, baby. G-good girls cum nice and easy, just like this, right? C’mon, jagi, cum nice and pretty for me.”

You can’t help it. It only takes a few more thrusts, well-calculated and deep enough inside you to have you shaking, and you’re coming apart around him. You feel his cock get wetter with your release and it’s as if he can’t help himself either - he presses his hips against you, firm and deep, and he’s filling you with his cum for the second time. It’s less than it was the first time, but it still fills you with warmth and makes you whine, hips trying to buck backwards for more, more, more.

“So pretty, jagi,” Jisung whispers, pecking your cheek with a way too innocent kiss. You groan in response, body feeling completely worn out, and he slides his softening length out of you with a whine.

“We’re going to have to shower again,” You murmur, half-collapsed on the sink. Jisung only coos, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling into your back.

“Let’s take a bath this time, jagi,” He suggests, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss into your skin. “That way we can lay down this time when we fuck. Duh.”

“Jisung!” You shriek, swatting at him. He giggles in response, scurrying off to flick at the taps of the bath. You huff, slowly peeling your body off of the ceramic. “Don’t be so crude.”

“Baby, you just pissed on me. I think that’s, like, the definition of crude. You're crude.”

[andypantsx3]

part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!

the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.

where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.

particularly a human man who looked like shouto.

shouto did not appreciate the distinction.

"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.

you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.

your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.

it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.

so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.

"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.

"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.

you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.

your face heated. he was very beautiful.

"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.

you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.

you knew there was already talk.

"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.

"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."

shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."

something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.

"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."

a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.

"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.

the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.

you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."

his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."

your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...

"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"

a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.

"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.

your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.

a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."

the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.

"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."

words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.

"ah, shouto—" you managed.

shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.

"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."

another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.

"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."

his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.

you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.

"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"

a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."

a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.

"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.

the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.

your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.

"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.

he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.

shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.

"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."

he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.

he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.

feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."

a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.

in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.

the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.

you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.

"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.

between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.

your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.

he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.

in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.

"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."

you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.

shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.

"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.

"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.

"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."

shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."

you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."

"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."

your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.

"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.

but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.

you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.

you were his, and he was yours. always.

[blackdollette]

"riding the ride." | spencer reid

get free. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: it was a win-win for you. you could finally shut spencer up, and managed to get a good orgasm too.

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.6k

contents: cunnilingus, cum-eating, snowballing (inverted), not proofread

date night. the one night a week where neither of you were working late and finally had the chance unfold in each other’s arms.

as cool breeze blew through the living room window as you flipped through tv channels, spencer’s arm wrapped around your torso as you rested your head on his chest. “what do you feel like watching tonight?” you asked, his thumbs rubbing slow circles onto your flesh. “i don’t mind, baby. i’m not picky.” you nodded, clicking the down button on the remote and landing on a reality show.

spencer hissed and you looked back at him. “what’s the matter?” you asked. “i don’t mind it, but i’m just worried about you. you know i found a really intresting article about reality tv. statistics show that around 47% of people use them as guilty pleasures and 92% of that is the female population who admit that they feel pressure to conform to the unrealistic beauty and relationship standards portrayed in the shows. besides, everything is one-hundred percent staged anyway.”

with each word he spoke, you felt braincells getting killed off in your brain. you nodded, consdiering what he said. “alright then. no reality tv, got it.” you scrolled further down the tv guide, landing on a horror film this time. but he spoke again. “are you sure you wanna choose that, babe? horror movies have been proven to desensitize viewers to violence, major disturbances and other dangers, which may all end up messing up your perception of risks.”

you felt your eye twitching as he droned on. you decided to find something that he couldn’t nitpick and analyze. you click on a weather forecast. boring, monotonous, but no dangers in sight. or so you thought. “did you know tha-” you rolled your eyes, snapping at last. “god, don’t you ever get tired of working that mouth of yours?” 

you squirmed at how provocative the statement came out. surprised at your outburst, spencer smiled proudly. “i have yet to, darling.” his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you in even closer to him. you rose an eyebrow, eyes narrowing at him ever so slightly. “is that a challenge, spence?” he caught a glimpse of the cheeky grin on your face in the corner of his eye. 

as the weather man blabbed on in the background, your face lit up as an idea popped into your head. you clicked the off button on the remote, making the tv screen turn black. you crawled so that you were fully sat on his lap, your hands starting to play with his hair as you whispered in his ear. “i’ve got a better idea for date night…”

spencer reid, the human computer who could sense even the slightest change in atmopshere seemed to be having a malfunction as you gently pressed his face into your chest. his breath heat up, the warmth seeping throug the thin fabric of your tank top. you moved your hips against his lap, taking the air from his lungs. “how about i put that tongue of yours to good use..?”

it was at this moment that he knew he was powerless. his hands were at your waist, clinging to them like he was afraid to let you go. his eyes trailed down to where your two body connected, taking in the sight of your legs in those little pajama shorts. he brought his hand down and began twirling the drawstring between his fingers, gazing up at you with those deep brown eyes. he tugged at the waistband, silently begging for the shorts to come off. you grinned, seeing that he was finally lost for words. “use your words, spence…” you never thought you’d have to tell spencer to speak, but here you were, watching as he struggled to formulate basic english.

he pressed his chin into your soft chest, muttering under his breath. “can you take ‘em off, hon..?” his biceps flxed slightly under his t-shirts as his grip tightened. you dug your thumbs under the waistband of your shorts, giving him a teasing glance of your bare hips and listening to his breath hitch.

you grinned as his eyes widened like saucers at the sight of your panties. “why don’t you lie down for me, spence.” he nodded, following your command in an instant like an obedient puppy. you stood up from the couch, his eyes glued to your body as you finally took off your shorts, letting them fall to the ground before kicking them off your feet.

the tension in the room grew thick enough to cut through as you lowered yourself onto his chest, not wanting to move too fast. spencer was panting like a dog, eyes triling down to where you cunt with covered by that pesky little strip of fabric. he longed to tear it with his teeth, to finally have access to the honey between your legs.

you slowly rose up once again, crawling slowly until you were hovering over his face. spencer’s mouth watered at the area of saturated fabric that was the perfect telltale of your arousal. your hips swayed slightly, hypnotizing him and making that familiar sizzle burn in this grey sweatpants.

a taste of heaven was just a touch away, and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait. you took a deep breath. “a-alright, just lemme know when you’re rea-” he couldn’t bear the torture any longer. he grabbed your ass, tearing off your panties and connecting his lips with your dripping cunt. 

completely taken by surprise, you yelped, gripping the couch cushion as your whole body tensed. he was going at it like a starved dog, his tongue greedily lapping up all your juuices as he tossed the leftover fabric of your panties to the side, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass as he flicked his tongue over your puffy clit.

he groaned deeply as he finally tasted you, desperate to have you. his pulsating cock twitched in his pants, begging to be let free. he bucked his hips into the air, moving against anything he could. “you taste so good, baby…” he muttered into your pussy, moving a hand down to rub quiet circles on your clit.

you tossed your head back in pleasure, grinding against his face as he found the perfect rhythm between his tongue and his fingers. he jutted his tongue in and out of your hole, hasilty bringing a hand down to his sweatpants and needily palming himself through the plush fabric. the contact made his vision go starry, the abundance of pleasure doing wonderful things to his head.

he snaked his hand into his pants, whipping out his precum-glazed cock. the tip was red and swollen from being neglected for so long. he gave himself a few lazy strokes, more focused on your right then than anything else. 

his tongue ventured deep inside of your hole, desperate to taste every fold and crevice. you were sure that he wasn’t even breathing at this point. he was completely drunk off the taste of your body. he pumped his cock at a more rapid pace, feeding his moans into your core and sending powerful vibrations through you.

the base of his hand slapped against his balls each time he went back down, his thumb ghosting against his tip when he came back up again. the living room filled with the succulent noises of him devouring you like your were his last meal.

your back arched as he suckled your hard pearl between his lips. you attempted to rise up from his face to let him have a breath of air, but he gripped you even tighter. “c’mon baby, i’m not done yet…” he had your cum pouring down his neck, grool bubbling from his lips and nostrils. he was making an absolute mess of you, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

his hips violently thrusted into his fist as the sounds of your moans and whimpers fueled his desire even more. he growled into you, eating you up like a starved predator who had finally caught its prey. your legs clenched aorund his head, nearly suffocating him. you rode his face rapidly, tits bouncing through your tank top.

the sight from above made him run wild. he moved his hand from your hip, sneaking it under your shirt and starting to knead your breasts, toying with your hard nipples.

you were so close to reaching such a satisfying climax. every nerve in your body was responding to his intimate touch, never wanting him to stop. your hands grabbed his hair as the band in your stomach snapped, utnring you into a screamed mess as thick white liquid cascaded out of your pussy.

he hungrily lapped up every last drop, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste. his cock had ejaculated hot strings of cum so far that they had hit your back, painting you like a piece of art. he took his time finished you off like the last scoop of a sweet dessert before finally letting you off his face. as you got back to your feet, he sat up and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, feeding your cum into your mouth and groaning softly. “...see how good you taste, my love..?”

your lips began to swell at how deeply he took you in, the heat in your body reaching an all time high. after several long minutes, he pulled away from you, a string of saliva connecting you two before breaking. he looked down, seeing the cummy mess on his t-shirt. but it was nothing compared to what streamed down his neck. you giggled softly, patting him on the cheek. “such a messy boy…”

he stood up from the couch, picking up your shorts for you. “how about we take this date night to the shower? would you like that, baby?” you smiled, nodding as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. he walked away with you, a smle on his face and a sticky mess flowing down your inner thighs.

author's note: thank you everyone for 1,000 followers! never thought i'd live to see the daythat i reach my longest goaal

[prentissluvr]

now you know — sam winchester

cw : gn!awkward!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, canon typical violence and monsters, near drowning experience, poor editing as usual, 6.8K words. part two of makes you wonder.

summary : you become more entangled in "agent" sam's case when you come across the monster he seeks. pronunciation guide (using scottish gaelic) : each-uishge — yahk-oosh-ga. [ disclaimer, i found this on the internet! i’m not scottish nor do i speak scottish gaelic, so correct me if i'm wrong ! ]

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the bar isn’t your go-to spot after work, mostly because that means you have to talk to people for some reason or another, but you’re feeling good tonight. good, and also still questioning your entire worldview so you figure it’s a good time as any to get a drink.

you’re halfway through your drink, eyes downcast and tracking the details of the table’s wood, when a hand on the back of the chair across from you snags your attention. you look up, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger. the first thing you notice is how beautiful he is. his rich, lightly curled dark brown hair and finely sculpted features are the kind of handsome that resemble a classic greco-roman kind of beauty.

his unrealistically good looks and charming scottish accent as he asks, “would you mind if i sit here?” almost disarm you completely before you remember that means you’ll have to talk to him. plus, you have a date to schedule with your mysterious agent sam.

“well, i’m headed home soon, so i guess that’s alright,” you say, trying to immediately display your disinterest without flat out rejecting him. when he slides into the chair with a smile that teeters between sleezy and charming, you wish you’d just said no.

“maybe i can change your mind,” he drawls, and you have to hold back from physically cringing. you now desperately want him to go, but don’t know how to get him to politely after having made the mistake letting him sit. “let me buy you another drink,” he offers.

you shake your head. “no, that’s– that’s not really very necessary. this is enough for me,” you refuse, motioning to your half-empty glass.

“oh, come darlin’! a free drink might not be necessary, but it surely’s a nicety, don’t ya think?” he raises a thick, neatly groomed eyebrow at you, making an unfortunately successful attempt at a handsome, flirty look. 

for once, you hope that your smile looks just as pained and awkward as it feels. “it’s a kind offer, i just, you know, don’t want another drink, so… that’s okay.”

he lifts his hands a little to signal surrender. “your loss then, love.” as he searches for some other flirty quip that might persuade you better, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and if you weren’t paying close attention in that exact moment, you would’ve completely missed the sprinkle of sand that falls from his hair and into his lap at the movement. you inhale sharply, suddenly afraid.

you try to sound casual when you pull a classic, “you know, i should really get going. i have an early morning tomorrow.” gathering your stuff up into your arms, you stand and try to convince yourself that you’re seeing things and that even if there was sand in his hair, it was just a coincidence. “have a nice night!”

then, as you spare him one last glance, he tilts his head when he bids you a flirtatious goodbye. “hope to see you here again,” he grins and a few more grains of sand fall to his shoulder, it’s light color stark against the dark fabric of his button up shirt. you try to stay unreadable, but your gaze follows the sand as it falls and his eyes follow yours to his shoulder. he brushes the dirt off and a dangerous look crosses his face. quite frankly, the look terrifies you, so you don’t waste a second to spin on your heel and rush out of the building towards your parked car.

the moment your back is turned, you’re digging around your bag until you find sam’s business card. with shaky hands and hurried feet, you punch the phone number into your phone and hold it to your ear, silently begging for him to pick up as you exit the building and the cool air of the night hits you.

“hello?” comes the newly familiar voice of sam through the phone speaker.

“sam! hi, it’s me, from the museum. you know, earlier today,” you think your voice may have come out a little panicked.

“yeah, yeah, of course,” he answers, voice please at first, then turning more serious, “good to hear from you, is everything alright? it’s sort of late.” he seems to have picked up on the scared edge to your voice. 

“i, um, god, i’m about to sound a little bit insane, but i’m just gonna say it. are you a real fbi agent? if yes, that’s great and i’m probably just really paranoid and making things up, if not, can i say something sort of crazy because i think that you might actually believe me? you know, if you’re, uh– not actually an fbi agent who thinks that totally normal reasons can explain those deaths you’re investigating?” you ramble, stumbling awkwardly through your words and feeling like a complete fool. there’s a moment of silence where you curse the fact that you had to park so far away, because you just want to be safely tucked into your car and headed home. the thought that sam thinks you’re totally off your rocker crosses your mind.

but sam’s sigh on the other line sounds almost relieved, and he answers. “i’m not– not an fbi agent. and trust me, whatever you could say that you might think is crazy, is probably nothing compared to some of the shit i’ve seen, so you can say whatever it is. i promise i won’t think you’re crazy.”

“okay,” you say breathlessly as your vague suspicions are confirmed. then you let it just tumble from your lips. “i think that the each-uisge is real and that i just met it and–” you cut yourself off when you hear something behind you. you’ve been so focused on sam that you haven’t been paying enough attention to anything else, and when you whip your head around, you see the man from the bar following you from a bit of a distance. you draw in a sharp breath of fear.

“shit,” sam curses, “where? you gotta get away from it, meet me at the–,” he instructs quickly.

you cut him off, real panic entering your voice as you pick up your speed, almost at a run. “fuck, sam, he’s coming for me, i think– i– i don’t know. but he had sand in his hair and he saw me looking at it and he’s following me and i’m almost to my car,” you ramble, glancing over your shoulder. the man is closer than before, he’s clearly picked up his own pace as well. “but he’s getting closer and i don’t have any iron or silver or anything and i–”

“hey, hey, listen to me. run as fast as you can to your car. you’re gonna be okay.” sam’s calm and level headedness are helpful, and immediately, you begin to sprint. but with a glance backwards, you see the thing gaining on you with unnatural speed. “drive anywhere and i’ll track your phone, i’m already on my way to come get you, okay? you’re gonna be fine.” 

you don’t realize you’re crying until you choke on your tears when you try to speak. “sam i– i don’t think i can make it, he’s too fast. the lake isn’t far from here, just head there, i–” you scream when an unnaturally strong hand clamps around your wrist.

you hear sam shout your name as you’re whirled around to face the creepy man from the bar. you try to pull away, but his skin is like adhesive, literally. you can feel your skin sticking to his like there’s super glue leaking from his pores.

“sam, please,” you sob out before the phone is ripped out of your hand and tossed aside. the man, or creature, or whatever bares his teeth in your face.

“it’s too late, sweetheart. all that hunter’s gonna find of you is your liver in the water. but you already know that, don’t you? hmm? how’d you know what i am?” he snarls, tugging you closer to him and smirking.

you don’t answer, just growl in frustration and struggle helplessly against him. “let me go!” you demand through tears.

“‘fraid that’s not an option, lass.” he smirks, then he’s yanking you behind him, pressing you into his back and in horror, you realize that his shape is changing right against you until you’re stuck to the back of a tall, dark horse, high above the ground. you let out a strangled scream and desperately struggle to get off. but, just as the folklore tells it, his sleek coat is impossibly sticky, as the lake must be close enough for him to smell its waters.

the horse leaps into a gallop, and another yelp is pulled from your lips from the speed he takes off at. panic rips through you and you grip the hair of the horse’s mane to keep your upper body from being yanked backwards. in a small moment of clear thinking, you keep your other hand from touching the horse. indeed, even his mane is adhesive, and you’re now stuck with just a single free hand. 

the streets and buildings are a complete blur to you with the combination of such speed and the tears in your eyes. all you can tell is when the town fades into the forest, and you’re being torn at by harsh, unforgiving tree branches. at this point, you know that begging or screaming is useless. so, you let tears be ripped from your eyes and pulled into the air by the wind rippling past you, and silently beg to whatever entity may be listening that sam gets to you on time.

suddenly, you’ve torn past the trees and straight into the shallow waters of the lake, and your hope fades. in seconds, your feet dip into the cold shock of water, and you think of how you never imagined your life would end this way. mostly because you didn’t think that shape-shifting killer horse-men were real, but here you are.

as your helplessness increases, you remember the silver necklace around your neck. it’s small, mostly likely inconsequential, but you still yank it off of your neck and press it against the neck of the large animal. it rears up, whinnying in pain, and you would’ve fallen and likely cracked your head open if you weren’t stuck to the creature’s back.

the silver clearly burns, but it’s too small to keep the large creature from completing its mission. it’s hungry. 

as your knees dip under the cold water, you hear the rumble of an old engine, then glance back just in time to see a tall, broad silhouette against the car’s bright headlights, running towards you as your waist, then chest are pulled under. 

it’s sam, and he yells your name as he splashes into the dark water. you choke out his name, then gulp in a full breath as the water reaches your chin, then swallows you up whole. it’s coldest against your head, suffocating and heavy and horrifying.

you don’t stop struggling when you’re submerged, hoping maybe the adhesive wears up under water. of course, you’re not so lucky, but your struggle seems to slow down the horse as it dives deeper into the water. there’s a long, torturous moment that passes where you’re positive that sam will be too late; your lungs already burn and you don’t think it’ll take too long for you to be drowned and eaten by something that probably shouldn’t exist.

but, your hopelessness is interrupted when the dulled light of his flashlight hits you, just as it begins to flicker and fail from being under water. then, his long arm is reaching out, grabbing hold of the horses mane to tug himself closer. the horse attempts to kick him away, but sam is able to sink a long dagger blade into the horse’s neck. a shudder passes through the monster, then it stills, and your immediately begin to float away from it. it’s magical properties fail as it dies, dark blood oozing out into the water. 

in a haze, you notice the water tainted with blood is warmer. it’s darkness and the way it seeps through the water reminds you of the ink of a squid. in a split second, sam’s strong arm wraps around your waist as his flashlight dies and the darkness in your vision isn’t just from the loss of light, but the loss of consciousness too. 

you do your best to cling to your awareness and sam’s broad shoulders, but you go limp in his arms just a few heavy moments before he breaks the surface, gasping and struggling a bit from holding both you and the dagger.

dean is right there to help sam, knee deep in the water. he quickly takes a hold of you and carries you to the edge of the water where he lays you down on your back. sam drops to his knees right beside you, and immediately, his hands are cupping your face, one hand slapping your cheek gently to see if you’ll wake up on your own before he starts cpr.

dean’s about to shove sam out of the way to do it himself, given that he’s far less exhausted, when your eyes fly open and you cough violently, your lungs doing their best to expel the unwelcome water from your lungs. 

even soaked in cold water, sam’s hands are still steady as he turns you to your side and pats your back to be sure that you don’t choke. you can’t really make out what he’s saying, but his voice is comforting as you gasp and sputter, your hands grasping at his for something solid to take hold of. 

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you’re safe now, i got you.” sam reassures, voice soft and steady. he pulls you up and into his chest as your coughing becomes less laden with lake water and more so with tears. it crosses your mind that you hate to be seen so uncomposed and vulnerable, choking a little on your own sobs, shaking from cold and residual fear, and sort of unable to speak after your whole entire view of the world has been grabbed hold of by some other force and tilted to a whole new angle. but you let sam hold you anyways; his broad frame, large set of hands, and hushed voice are so grounding that you wouldn’t dare move away.

you’re vaguely aware of someone else shrugging a warm, dry jacket over your shoulders, and sam is quick to readjust and pull it tight around you. and with that, your head tucked into his neck and your arms wrapped around his middle, you finally begin to calm down. your breathing evens to match the pace of his hand rubbing up and down your back and you shudder against him one last time before you shift to put a palm on the ground and take responsibility for some of your own body weight. you’re still leaning against him, because you’re not sure you could hold yourself up on your own, but you want it to be known that you’re regaining your composure.

the first words that you mean to say to sam are thank you, but the moment you open your mouth, you catch sight of something glinting in the moonlight just a foot or two away. so instead of the gratitude you mean to express, the words, “is that my dirk?” tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. sam winces guiltily underneath you and in an instant, you’re stumbling to correct yourself.

“oh god, that’s not what i meant to say, i’m so sorry. that is so horribly ungrateful of me,” your voice shakes from the chattering of your teeth as you look at him with total regret. “i was trying to say ‘thank you’ and i got distracted and i said that instead, but i didn’t mean it that way, i was just… confused.” you don’t even catch the way that sam smiles at you, all soft and endeared. 

and in reality, you are worried about the state of your priceless knife. you truly mean that you’re sorry for saying that instead of thank you first, but you still scramble away from sam in order to get the knife in your own hands.

the blade has mostly been washed up by the waters of the lake, but there’s residue of a dark, sticky substance that makes you cringe. but, with a sigh of relief, you realize that there’s no further damage to the artifact and carefully clean it with the still dripping wet fabric of your shirt.

behind you, someone’s laughing and it’s not sam. you finally fully register the presence of another person. you look up to see another man, pretty like sam, but with an amused smirk on his features.

“sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. “thank you, both of you. for, you know, saving my sorry ass.”

“of course,” comes sam’s sincere voice, “i’m just glad we got here in time. i’m sorry this happened. and for stealing your dirk.” you look over at him with an embarrassed, shaky smile. he points to the other man with his chin and you return your gaze to him. “that’s my brother, dean.” dean holds up his hand in a sort of greeting and you nod back.

“let’s get you two dried off,” dean says, voice still a little amused. “where can we drop you?” he asks kindly, stepping towards you and holding out a hand to help you up. you take his hand, still dripping the dagger in your other, and he hoists you up. as you’re still finding your footing, you feel sam by your side, then his big hand on the small of your back keeping you steady.

“thanks,” you murmur to the both of them. sam smiles at you, and dean lets your hand go, knowing that sam will be plenty pleased and anxious to be the one to lead you to the car. he managed to annoy sam into admitting that he asked you out on a date within minutes after he got back to the motel from the museum. sam had been trying not to be too smiley. he absolutely had been all smiley.

now, sam’s not smiling. he’s worried and completely guilt-ridden because he’s managed to see the sweet, awkward, and at ease you, and then a version of you that’s limp in his arms. as he ushers your shaking form into the back of the impala, he wonders if he should call it off. tell you he can’t make it to a date, that there’s a new case and he has to leave right away. not call you back. it’s nowhere near his fault that the each-uisge got to you, and yet, he knows that proximity to him means danger. that’s the last thing that he wants for you, even if he thinks he might want you.

and yet, you shiver and gingerly clutch onto your 16th century scottish dirk in the back seat of his brother’s car and when he glances back at you, you have the audacity to send him an adorable, lopsided little smile. you’ve just found out that monsters are real and nearly drowned at one’s hands and you have the audacity to smile at him? smile at him like you’re just fine when you’re so cold he can see you shivering through the rearview mirror and he feels like it’s his fault? and you look like you feel awkward, like you think smiling at him is the most normal thing you can think to do, and it makes him like you very much.

you’re irresistible, and he’d really like to be able to resist you, for your own sake.

“so,” when you start to speak, your voice trembles a little, just because of the way your teeth chatter. sam’s cold too, but it seems to be affecting you more. “hot, homicidal horse-man shapeshifters from scottish folklore are real,” you state, sounding an odd mix of afraid, confused, and very curious. you lean forward and lean against the seats in front of you. “is there… more?”

sam turns his head to look at you, his face full of regret. “yeah,” he says, sighing. “pretty much anything supernatural you can think of. from werewolves, vampires, and ghosts to djinn, each-uisge.”

“oh,” you ponder, “that’s… insane,” you settle on. sam nods in agreement.

dean lets out a huff of laughter. “you got that right. sounds like you’re handling it pretty okay, though,” he commends you.

you shrug, then admit, “i’m actually… trying not to be excited right now because i almost just died from that shit, but… it’s– sort of, kind of, just a little bit cool to me. to know that it’s all real, not that there’s dangerous creatures out there killing people. very not cool,” you nod at your own words awkwardly, trying to be honest about how you feel without sounding insensitive. “and you two… what? go around and save people from them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“yep,” dean chimes, “we’re hunters. we find monsters and gank ‘em for a living. not that it pays.”

“huh. hunters… that must… suck,” you conclude, then try to backtrack, “not– not that i’m saying it’s not important or– or that your lives suck, or– or… yeah.”

“no, no, it’s okay,” sam assures you, “it kind of does suck. a lot, sometimes, but we… we help people, and it’s worth it.” he wants you to think it sucks. he wants you to hate it and he wants you to think it’s too dangerous and awful that you don’t even want to be associated with him. and at the same time, he wants you to think that he helps, that he thinks it’s worth it because he can’t lie about that either. and he already knows, from the way you’re taking things, you won’t think of it as any reason not to be at least alright with him. god, sam’s got no idea what the hell to think, or what the hell to want.

“yeah,” you nod, “yeah, that’s– that’s good of you two.” you sort of wondered before if all this might change how you feel about going on a date with sam. when you think about it now, it doesn’t. it doesn’t change a thing. you still think he’s delightful. “so… where are you two staying? the bed and breakfast?”

“uh, no, we’re staying in the motel just outta town,” sam answers.

“in that shithole?” you raise your eyebrows skeptically. “gosh, i hear there’s never any hot water.”

“damn straight,” confirms dean with a humorless chuckle. “but we’ve had worse. at least this the water gets lukewarm.” sam shoots dean a look that neither of you catch, and the next words that you say are the reason for it.

“well, you two should come shower in my apartment, then,” you don’t seem to realize that’s a little bit suggestive, but neither could care less. it’s clearly just a kind offer. “it’s always hot and the water pressure is pretty much perfect. and sam, if you’re anywhere near as cold as i am, you definitely need a hot shower.”

“no, no, we shouldn’t,” sam refutes, voice kind and regretful in a way he hadn’t meant to show. “we don’t want to intrude after all the shit from tonight.”

you swallow, wondering if you can convince him to stay without admitting that you’re still scared. but you figure that might be the only way. after saving your life he seems to feel guilty, and you can’t understand why. “you wouldn’t be intruding, i promise. you… you really need a hot shower.”

“i’ll be alright,” he assures you, adding, “i’ve had much worse,” for good measure. he needs you to know that it’s dangerous to know him.

you sigh and sit back, leaning into the leather seat. “would you… would you mind, you know, staying with me a little longer?” you let a little bit of vulnerability seep into your voice; you don’t want to say the words i’m still scared, but you do want to give sam a reason to stay that he’ll actually take.

he glances back at you, and it’s too dark to see the look on his face; still guilty, but soft, warm, and understanding.

“no, no, i wouldn’t mind,” he says, voice extra gentle. you let out a relieved breath, glad that he understood your message. the rest of the car ride is quiet aside from your instructions guiding dean to your apartment. he pulls to the side of the road in front of your building. sam gets out first, opening your door for you and hovering his big palm over your head as you step out of the small car. you thank him quietly with a soft smile. he heads to the trunk to grab a spare change of dry clothes and you pull the big brown leather jacket off of your shoulders. you assume it to be dean’s, so you open the passenger’s side door and hand it to him.

“thank you, dean. you, um, if you want, you’re welcome to take a hot shower here, too,” you offer, noting the way he doesn’t actually park the car or step out himself. 

“that’s alright, sweetheart,” he grins, “i’ll leave you and sammy alone.” his tone is definitely suggestive, and he winks at you. you sputter for a second, then clear your throat awkwardly.

“i, um, sure! sounds good,” you squeak out, quickly retreating from the car and shutting the door. it’s very quiet, but you think you hear dean laughing a little. you try not to look completely embarrassed when sam approaches you.

“dean say he’s not coming?” he asks. 

you shake your head. “uh, n-no he said he’s fine.”

sam raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything about the way you seem much more flustered than you were just moments ago. he’s sure than dean made some inappropriate comment, and he’ll apologize for it later. 

“he say he’d wait here?” he asks instead. the last thing he wants is for dean to have inadvertently invited sam over for the night.

“um, no, i-i figured that he’d- that you’d…” you swallow thickly, unsure how to proceed. then dean shifts the car into drive and begins to pull back into the street.

“dean, wait!” sam calls after him, certainly loud enough to hear. sam is ignored, and the gorgeous black car just rumbles down the street. “god, i’m sorry about him. i’ll call him to pick me up.” he looks at you apologetically but you shake your head.

“no, no, it’s okay! i sort of thought that you… you know, might… stay over? only if you’re okay with that, i- it’s okay if you want him to pick you obviously, but… my couch is free and comfortable. probably better than the shitty motel mattresses.” you look at him, eyes both kind and unsure, and he finally remembers that you’re still shivering, even more without dean’s jacket pulled over your shoulders.

“i… if you’re sure. let’s just get inside for now,” he urges, hovering his hand over your shoulder blade as you both turn and walk into the building. you lead the way to your apartment, quiet and soft in your movements. somehow, sam is softer.

inside, he insists that you don’t worry about him, that you head right into the shower because you’re still shivering and it’s got him really quite worried. but you resist, first grabbing him a dry towel and a big fluffy blanket to warm himself up with while he waits in the living room. you tell him where the mugs and the tea can be found, and that the kettle should boil filtered water only. 

“you should make yourself a hot cup of tea,” you say, and tell him that the decaffeinated green genmaicha is your favorite for this time of night if he’d like to make one for you too. sure that he’d feel unuseful just sitting on the couch, you give him something to do.

when you step into the shower, you expect to be soothed. you expect your shoulders to relax and your limbs to stop shuddering and your teeth to quit chattering. it’s true that the bone deep chill begins to fade, and you stop fearing hypothermia. but you are not near soothed or relaxed. it’s not horrible because of the heat, the light, and the familiar surroundings. but the water on your skin is not as welcome as you’d wished. it’s not cold enough or suffocating enough to pull you back down into the lake with the sticky flesh-eating horse, but it’s not pleasant at all. 

you wash up quickly, then step out, dry off, and get dressed even quicker. you cover yourself in the sort of clothing fit for the middle of winter when you’ve been snowed in. fleece pajama pants, a cotton, crew neck long-sleeved shirt, and a sweatshirt to top it all off with. you don’t forget thick socks or the fuzzy blanket from your bed.

you find sam in your living room, a cup of tea on the coffee table and another in his hands as he stands with the green towel you gave him before wrapped over his shoulders.

“why aren’t you sitting?” you ask, perturbed by the idea that he’s been standing this whole time.

“i… didn’t want to get your furniture wet,” he explains, almost sheepishly. you shake your head at him, half amused by the lengths he goes to be gentlemanly. 

“that’s sweet, but unnecessary. i wouldn’t have minded,” you say softly. “anyway, the shower’s all yours. take as long as you like.”

he sets his mug down and gathers up his change of clothes before heading towards the bathroom.

“and there’s a fresh towel on the counter! don’t use that green one,” you call after him lightly, wanting to be sure he won’t reuse the already damp one.

“okay,” he calls back, and he’s turned away so you don’t see the soft smile on his lips. you settle into one end of your couch, curled up with the blanket wrapped tight around your body for warmth and comfort. no matter how much you wish you weren’t, you’re still shaken from everything, especially after the feeling of water on your skin again. you reach for the mug on the table, it’s ceramic material warm on your hands, but no longer too hot to hold. it’s a soothing feeling, along with the hot, earthy tea that slides down your throat and into your stomach when you take a long drag of the drink.

all you do is sit there, drinking tea and wondering when sam will be done. you told him to take as long he wanted, but the sight of him is comforting, and you hope he’s done soon.

he looks refreshed and relaxed when he emerges from the bathroom. he sits in the chair across from you with a grateful smile.

“thank you,” he says, voice quite lovely and sincere, “it’s been a while since i’ve had such a nice shower.” to you, he wasn’t gone too long, but for him, it was special and an absolute privilege to have a hot shower last that long. and your bathroom isn’t that nice by any stretch, but it certainly beats anything he can find in a motel. it’s homier, warmer, and familiar only because it suits you. honestly, he had trouble getting the courage to turn off the shower head; it was just too pleasant. but he didn’t want to wrack up your water bill, so he gave himself an extra minute before stepping out and getting redressed.

and now you’re telling him about how easy of a favor it was, and that he’s welcome to that sort of thing anytime. he’s so unsure of how to proceed, so conflicted, that you’re the one to bring it up. 

“so… are you still, y’know, um, interested? in going out to lunch, that is,” you ask hopefully, clumsily.

oh god. he doesn’t think he has the strength to say no, to disappoint you, to ruin this chance with you. but it’s dangerous for you and that’s the last thing he wants. yet, he’s not sure he could ever bear the face you might make if he makes some lame excuse to blow you off. and it would all be a total lie. he is interested, maybe more than just that. he goddamn wants it. 

“i am. of course i am.” he’s more relieved than scared when he says that, so he feels like it must be right. and he hates the idea that you’d even doubt his interest in you. if anyone has the right to be second guessing a date, it’s you. he’s honestly a little surprised you’d still want this. surprised, and beyond flattered. “i… don’t know how long i’ll be in town, but i’ll of course be here tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

you grin widely. “yeah, yeah that’s perfect.” your expression shifts and you look at him carefully. “and… after that? i don’t mean to jump ahead or anything and i… i know you’ll be… traveling, but it sort of seems like sometimes, you know, maybe, i could possibly… help you out? if you ever need information on weapons and lore and that sort of thing… you could, y'know, call me? i… i’d love to help, at the very least.” hopeful and clumsy. that seems to be the theme of the night for your words. 

sam’s gaze, no, his whole form softens. he loves the way you talk and he finds it sort of crazy that he’s met you only this afternoon. for a moment he thinks he’s surprised by your offer to help, but when he considers it for a moment, he’s really not. it fits you; your warmth, kindness, passion, and intelligence. he’s still scared about involving you with him at all, even more scared about involving you in hunting directly, even if you just help with information. 

yet somehow, your offer eases him. it’s a thought you’ve had all on your own, something you say you’d actually like to be able to do. he supposes he should just be honest with you.

 “i’ll call you. not just for help,” he begins, nodding to assure you that he wants that, and more. he’s so torn. torn between caving and just diving into this chance that he has or walking away and most likely saving you a whole lot of grief. and yet, it absolutely wouldn’t be fair to not give you a choice, so that’s exactly what he’ll do. “but… you… are you sure about this?” he asks with a heavy sigh, eyes careful and sincere as he examines your expression, your curled up form indicating you might still be feeling shaken.

“it’s not pleasant. people die,” he says, frank, but still gentle in tone. “dean and i, we could die. and you being involved… it makes things dangerous for you. even if you’re not out there, physically in the fight, it… it’s dangerous to be associated with us. with me. i don’t want that for you, but i… i would like to get to know you better, i know that much. and i know that it’s your choice, not mine. if helping is what you really want to do… i’m sure that you could save lives. we… could use your help. just… you can back out at any time. you can back out right now, if that’s what you want.”

he’s grateful that you really take a long moment to consider what he says. your eyes roam over his face, taking in the details of his expression, his sincerity, all of the changes in tone that you can pick up on. you think about it, you really do.

“let’s get to know each other,” you decide, voice soft. as you go on, you sound both unsure, like you’re still finding your footing, and determined, like you’re sure you’ll be steady eventually. “i’d really like that… as for the rest… for the monsters and all that, i… i’d still like to help. or at least try. if… if it’s too much, or feels dangerous, then i can… i can figure out what to do then. but if i could help save lives? i… i can’t just ignore that. i don’t want to ignore that. i do really appreciate that you're, you know, worried about my safety, it– it’s very sweet, i just– i know that i want this.” you say the last bit definitively, like you’ve been building up to it, convincing yourself of it and now you really believe it. 

sam’s relieved. he shouldn’t be, but he is. he wanted that answer, no matter his worries. he nods simply, giving you a soft smile. “okay. thank you.”

you smile back, thinking it’s sweet that he thanks you for offering your help, and maybe for something else too.

“my, uh, my lunch break is only half an hour,” you state, shifting the conversation just a little bit. “and i– i get if you’re tired, but we could… start now. you know, the getting to know each other part,” you offer, voice a little quiet and unsure again. you’re a bit clumsy and awkward when it comes to… well, most everything, but especially this sort of thing. you’re not even sure exactly what this is supposed to be. flirting? dating? or maybe it’s just as simple as that; getting to know each other. sam’s not perfect at this either, but he can certainly step into the more confident role for you. he wants you to feel at ease.

“yeah,” he says softly. “i’m not too tired. i don’t want to keep you up late, though. tonight was… tiring, i’m sure, and you have work in the morning.”

goodness, he’s so caring and considerate that it almost hurts. you fight back a yawn, trying not to prove his point as you think about waking to your alarm clock tomorrow morning. you don’t want to go to bed yet, and you don’t want to miss out on whatever time you have to talk with him.

“well… maybe i can call off. even just for the morning. i’ve got plenty of paid time off saved up,” you suggest, glad for this idea. you’re positive that you deserve to miss a little bit of work after what you just went through.

if you were offering just for him, sam would shake his head, insist that you don’t have to. but he considers that not having to worry about work in the morning and being able to sleep in would likely be very good for you. 

“if that’s what you want, it makes sense,” he says, smiling softly.

“okay,” you smile back, “i’ll email my boss, it’ll only take a minute. she’ll see it in the morning.” your computer’s in your room, so you leave sam to his own devices for just a moment. in the hallway on the way back, you speak up so he can hear you as you approach. “would you like to watch a movie? you might be right that i’m a little too tired to stay up talking, but i… don’t quite want to go to bed.” your voice quiets once you’re back in the small living room. frankly, the idea of being alone in your room, of laying down with nothing to do but think or sleep, frightens you.

his face softens like he can read your fear. “that sounds perfect to me.” you relax at his constant sweetness and subtle encouragements. 

“perfect,” you smile. “you’ll… have to get up so i can move that chair out of the way. you can sit on the couch, though.” he stands and moves the chair away from the tv for you, then sits on the other end of the couch. you snuggle into your own corner after picking a dvd. turns out that sam has seen and loves your favorite movie. 

turns out that he’s also a little too respectful and careful to get very close to you as you watch, but he doesn’t mind when you grow sleepy and stretch your legs a little more over the cushions. you don’t ask; you’re a little embarrassed, so he tells you it’s alright if you rest your feet against his thigh. and he doesn’t know where to put his hand after that, so you tell him that he can rest it on your calf. he does, and just that is infinitely comforting.

and turns out that, halfway through the movie, when you fall into a soft, quiet sleep, the only thing that sam’s worried about anymore is if he should let you just sleep there or carry you to your own bed. he doesn’t care if he has to sleep curled up in the corner of the couch or that chair or on the goddamn floor; he just doesn’t want to wake you.

[mickandmusings]

iii. pretend that it's love

part of the ' hangman & honey ' series!

summary: when janet and jacob sr. take off to austin for the weekend, they leave jake and honey behind to take care of the farm. jake finds himself in an empty pasture with honey on an usually chilly night. with hidden feelings festering in both of their hearts, once comfortable silence is now dangerous, leading to the end-all, be-all question: who will be the first to break?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fluffy, awkward acts of love between teenagers, jake being a southern gentleman, unrealistic traditional southern grandparents, truly an opposites attract trope, honey being a sleepy girl (me too), plotting grandmothers and nosey grandfathers

-

For a Texas night in late April, the air was unusually chilly. The wind blew through with a sharp bite, sending chills straight down to Honey's bones. She's perched in the bed of Jake's truck, thick quilts under her to provide some comfort from the cold metal hitting her skin. Another blanket is draped across her legs all the way up to her chin, acting as a flimsy barrier between the chilling air and her cold limbs. She shivers lightly, curling herself into Jake's side. He looks down from gazing at the starry sky to look at her, pulling her close, the warmth in his body radiating like a furnace. His simple jeans and short sleeved shirt kept him plenty warm. He knew Honey ran cold, she always had, and it was something he was more than accustomed too. She always had his spare jacket thrown across her shoulders and arms, and she'd curl the sleeves around her fists to keep her hands warm. Honey buries her head into the crook of his arm, her nose cold. She and Jake had been outside in the empty field for a little over an hour, the endless sky clear and starry, prompting Honey to coax Jake to take the truck out to stargaze. It wasn't like there was anything else better to do in Haven-Janet and Jacob Sr. had gone into Austin for the weekend, leaving the two teenagers to hold down the fort. The adults trusted them, at least enough to feed themselves and keep the house standing for a few days.

"It wasn't this cold when I was reading on the porch, now I'm freezin'!" Honey was all but chattering teeth and icicles hanging from her face. "How are you not cold?"

"When you were sittin' on the porch it was still daylight, it's dark out now, it's gonna be colder," Jake shrugs and looks down at her, his windswept locks under a backwards baseball cap. "Guess I just naturally run hot."

He tacks on a wink at the end of his sentence, prompting an eye-roll from Honey.

"You're so cocky sometimes, Seresin."

Jake lets out an audible laugh, echoing off the trees in the distance. Silence quickly falls over the two, save for the chirping insects and the wind blowing around them. Jake finds this silence more deafening than if they were yelling at the top of their lungs. Silence seemed to be something new that had started between the two, one that Honey too found herself despising, despite her quiet nature. But, she had guessed, internally, what do you talk about with someone who already knows everything about you?

Honey said nothing, very rarely the first to break the quiet, only curling back into Jake's side, sending a jolt of electricity through Jake's skin. Her touch alone sent his heart racing. She simply smiled up at him and set her attention back on the stars sparkling in the expansive sky. Jake wracked his brain for something to say, the still air making his eye twitch.

"The night is kind of underwhelming don't you think? Feels like we should throw a party or a bonfire or somethin' since the adults aren't around."

Honey couldn't disagree more, she was thoroughly enjoying their quiet night. It was a little on the more romantic side, especially considering that they were just friends, but she let herself enjoy the moment. Honey takes her turn to shrug against Jake.

"It's kind of nice, don't you think? It's a beautiful night, quiet. Plus, anyone who would come to a party is at prom."

Jake only nods his head, he had completely forgotten about prom this weekend, he and Honey were underclassmen, so it wasn't like they'd be able to go anyway.

"Well," he starts, finding a response to Honey's statement. "As much as you enjoy the quiet, I hate it. We'll be at prom this time in a year or so, dancin' to music a decade old, eatin' PTO mom snacks, watchin' couples fall victim to teen pregnancy...truly a magical night we're missin' out on, huh?"

"I probably won't even go when it's our turn," Honey starts, resting in Jake's hold, his arm thrown around her to keep her close. "Why would I want to be in a room full mostly of people I detest in a dress I can't sit down in?"

"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine, Hon," Jake's reply is sarcastic, earning him a pointed look from the girl in his arms. "I mean, c'mon, prom is a rite of passage. If you don't go, who am I supposed to go with?"

"I hardly doubt you'll have any problem finding someone to go with, Mr. Haven-High-Football-Star," Honey bites back just as sarcastic. "I'll probably have to stand in line just to get a picture with you."

Jake says nothing, not having any retort for that, he only gives her a small head shake as he pulls her in close again. Honey sighs contently, starting to warm from her current ice-cube state. Her eyes gaze at the stars, taking in all the flickering lights. Jake's attention should probably be focused on the sky too, but he finds himself staring at her instead. She was here, in his arms, wearing his well-worn sweatshirt, with her eyes dazzling under a moonlit sky. It was a perfect scenario, the epitome of a romance book scene, like the ones Honey read, the very ones that lived on Jake's own bookcase. This would be her secret fantasies come to life if he could just muster up the courage to lean in and kiss her. His heart races at the thought, his overwhelming fondness for her bubbling to the surface. If she can hear his heart, she doesn't comment on it, which Jake is grateful for.

"Do you think we'll be together forever?" Honey speaks without thinking. Jake nearly chokes.

"W-What?"

"I just mean, we've been friends forever, and I know you'll sweep some girl off her feet, and you'll marry her and have like four kids. Do you think we'll still be friends? I'll be your kid's weird Aunt Honey who lives alone with her ten cats."

It hurt Honey's own heart to even say it aloud, to come to the realization that Jake would move on with his life loving someone that wasn't her, but she had quickly learned to accept it as her reality. He would find some beautiful girl, and Honey would hear all about her. He'd ask Honey's opinions about rings and proposals, and she'd go along with it, as if she wasn't madly in love with a boy whose heart belonged to someone else.

Beside her, Jake's heart sank. He'd never pictured her as some sort of quasi-relative. For nearly the past year, he'd pictured her as the woman in white walking down the aisle, the woman he pictured rocking his kids to sleep, the girl who would always sleep on the opposite side of a shared bed, just like she did now. Looking down at her wide eyes reflecting the stars, his heart begged his brain to just tell her, dammit! He longed to tell her that she would always be so much more than his best friend. Realizing he'd been quiet for perhaps a moment too long, he responds.

"Of course we'll always be friends, Honey. You can't get rid of me, ever."

His heart pounded in his chest, his palms feeling sweaty against the blanket she was covered by. She smiles up at him, one that didn't quite meet her eyes, before settling back against his chest. Silence falls between them again, and this time neither of them makes a move to stop it. Jake's mind is reeling, his heart begging his brain to just spill his every thought, while his brain fights back, saying that telling her would be a mistake he couldn't take back. Telling her could ruin the near decade of friendship, the level of comfort they found in one another, it would ruin everything.

Meanwhile, Honey sat melancholy in his arms as her cold hands played with a loose string on the blanket. Her heart sank at his response, truly hammering the nail in the coffin of her expectations. It was foolish really, to think he'd wax some sonnet for her, this was Jake, not Mr. Darcy. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, silently vowing to herself she'd let off of the romance novels, maybe try a biography or two. Her eyes felt heavy, and her chest ached as she attempted to sleep it off.

So stuck in his own head, Jake had hardly noticed the tiredness seeping into Honey's face. Once he looked down, he'd noted her eyes drooping in exhaustion, her body limp against his. She was tired, and close to falling asleep.

"Let's get you back to the house, Hon, you're dozin' off."

Honey's chest felt as if someone had stabbed her. If they went back to the house, he'd peel her from his arms and they'd sleep at least a foot of distance from one another in Jake's bed. At least out here she could lie under the stars in his arms, pretending it was love instead of friendship between them. She shakes her head against his chest, letting out a sleepy mumble.

"M'comfortable, don't move me. Let's just sleep out here."

Jake simply nods, letting her be. She was often grumpy when she was sleepy, and there was no point in arguing with her. He'd just move her once she was completely asleep. She rested against Jake, her eyes closed as she began to breathe deeply. Jake smiled, brushing hair out of her eyes as she slept. His heart began to hammer again, she looked radiant, even in sleep.

He watches her for a moment, watching as the deep breaths cause her chest to rise and fall. With her asleep, Jake finds himself a bit more confident, knowing she won't remember anything he says or does. In an act of confidence he can't explain, he lets his lips meet her forehead, a breathy 'I love you' stumbling from his mouth. It's a quiet whisper, and Honey's asleep, so he relaxes as it falls into the night air.

Honey scoots closer to him, her head now burrowed into the side of his neck, making him stiffen. His heart beats rapidly against his chest, she had been asleep, he was sure of it.

"I love you too, J," her whisper is more quiet than his, but it's sealed with a kiss to the underside of his jaw, one that makes his face heat up. He looks down to confirm that she knew what he meant, but she was already asleep, for certain this time. He let out a chuckle, pulling her closer if that was possible. There was no great fanfare, not the love profession she deserved, but he had professed his love, and she'd accepted it. It was perfectly simple, which seemed fitting for someone like him. His hands threaded through her hair, his heart slowing in pace when he realized what this meant: he hadn't ruined anything, she felt the same way.

Honey felt the same way.

Jake was tired, and he wasn't sure if he was dreaming all of this, but as his eyes shut, his jacket under his head as a makeshift pillow, he allowed himself to fall asleep to this fantasy. Even for a brief moment in time, even if he woke up and all of this had been his mind's trick, he had the girl he loved sleeping in his arms, and she loved him the same way he loved her.

-

When Jake finally woke up, hours later, just before the crack of dawn that Sunday morning, he rubbed his eyes and checked his watch, sighing at the early morning hour. He smiled as he glanced down at Honey, who was still fast asleep in his arms, before he moved slowly to scoop her up bridal style. He swings open the passenger door and slides her into the seat as she lets out a grumble. She was definitely still asleep, but she didn't like his interruption. Jake chuckles under his breath and kisses her forehead before closing the door. He quickly moved to the other side of the truck and started it, quickly reversing and moving out of the open gate. The noise prompts Honey to open her eyes, finally looking over at Jake with squinted eyes as he begins to drive out of the pasture.

"What're ya doin'?" Her voice was full of sleep, her accent thick.

"Takin' us back home, it's late, need to get you in bed, Hon."

She said nothing, only nodding as she gathered her blanket back up around her chin, sliding across the seat to rest her head against Jake's arm. He smiled and kept one hand on the wheel, the other slinging over her frame, giving her ample room to curl into his side. She was asleep before he could even get them back to the house, the lull of the truck making her eyes droop faster than he could drive. When he parks the truck in the driveway, he scoops her into his arms again, pushing open the front door and locking it back before making his way up the stairs. Jake set her down softly on their shared bed, carefully peeling off her shoes and tucking her under their comforter. After chucking his boots across the room, he slid in next to her, Honey's body automatically gravitating toward his like a magnet. He pulled her close, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. His arms came around her waist, and hers sat atop his chest. He found himself more awake than he should be for the few hours of sleep he'd gotten, but Jake simply couldn't stop looking at her. He pushed her hair out of her face, and her eyes blinked open.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he whispered down to her.

She shook her head. "You didn't, promise." Her eyes cut down to his chest, her fingers rubbing against the fabric of his shirt, tracing the logo on his corner pocket. She brought her knees to her chest, and Jake braced himself for what she was going to say. She just had that look drawn across her face, the one that told him she would likely take everything back. That she'd only wanted to express her platonic love.

"Jake?" Her voice is quiet.

"Hm?" His heart hammers, he'd never been so nervous in his life.

"I don't regret what I said, I meant it. It wasn't just some sleep-hazed confession, I-I've loved you since we were kids," Her eyes were glassy, and Jake's heart lurched, his thumb brushing off stray tears on her face. "I get it, if you didn't mean it like that, but-"

"Honey, I meant it like that."

Jake's words stop her in her tracks, her eyes darting between his own. Her brows furrow, her mouth simply opening and closing as she tries to form words.

"I love you, Honey. I've been in love with you, and I-I realized that 'bout eight months ago, that first night you slept here. Probably before then, I was just too stupid to realize it. A-And-," he pauses, letting out a nervous chuckle. "And I know you deserve better than this truly pathetic confession," his hand grazes against her cheek softly. "You're too good for me, but I'm yours if you'd have me."

Honey's warm eyes are full of tears, most of which had already fallen. Jake thought she needed dramatic, Say Anything-boombox declarations, but she didn't want any of that, she just wanted him. She smiled as her bottom lip wobbled, but she was so happy she couldn't get her eyes to stop watering. Her brain was in overdrive, and she couldn't form words.

"Didn't mean to make you cry, darlin'," his voice was a whisper, so impossibly soft, a tone she'd never heard fall from his lips. His calloused thumb wiped them away again, and she brought her own hand to the side of his face. He leaned into her cold hand, kissing her palm. Her eyes looked into his own at the action, so overwhelmed with love for the boy she simply couldn't speak. No one had ever loved her, not the way Jake seemed to. He moved closer, only an inch of space between them before he spoke.

"W-Would it," he whispers, the hand on her face tilting her closer to his own. "Can I kiss you?"

Honey's heart hammers as she lets out a chuckle, closing the gap between them both, their lips meeting. Fireworks erupted between them, as if the Fourth of July had come early. When they separated, Honey rested her forehead against his own, smiling a smile that made her eyes warmer than he'd ever seen them. He smiled back, pulling her back into his arms, kissing her forehead from where she rested in the crook of his neck, her legs intertwined with his own.

Within minutes, Honey was back asleep, resting peacefully in his arms. Jake stayed awake for nearly an hour after she'd drifted off, simply staring down at her, his chest nearly bursting with all of his emotions. With the weight now off his chest, he tucked Honey under his chin and let his own eyes fall shut, both of them falling asleep in the warmth of one another.

-

Just a few hours later, when Janet Seresin opened her front door and trampled up the stairs to wake the two teenagers under her roof, she lightly opened her grandson's door, her eyes widening dramatically. Jake and Honey slept tangled into one another-she had seen them sleep in the same bed their entire lives, but, this, this was different. If she was any other parent or guardian, she would've woken them up with a sort of disappointed expression, making them separate. Instead she simply smiled down at them, her heart warming at the young love she'd been praying to blossom. Never underestimate the power of a praying grandmother.

She'd been all smiles when she'd descended down the stairs, her husband standing at the kitchen counter when she entered the kitchen.

"Let me guess, those two were still sleepin'?" Jacob Sr.'s voice was always gruff, but it now had a tone of humor in it.

"Yes, and I'm not going to bother them, it looked like they were mighty tired."

Jacob Sr. lifted an eyebrow at his wife, she was far too happy for them to just be sleeping. Something had happened, and he wanted to know.

"Janie, honey, you're all but blushin' and skippin' like a little girl. What happened?"

Janet smiles, still feeling like a teenage girl in love every time her husband uses his pet names for her. She smiles a wide smile at Jacob, positively giddy.

"I'm not for sure, but I think those two are together, Jay," She smiled as she pulled out ingredients for dinner from the fridge. "You should have seen them, they've always been close, but it's different this time. I told you it would happen before graduation, so you owe me my part of the bet, Jacob Seresin."

The bet had started as a joke between the married couple, a silly competition that had started when feelings began to blossom between the two teens. Janet had bet that Jake would admit it before graduation, while Jacob Sr. had a bet on Honey. Jacob simply shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her head.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart."

The gruff man swung open the door and headed towards the barn, his own smile painted across his face. Honey reminded him so much of a younger version of his wife, and he, too, had secretly hoped Jake would have the same feelings the sweet girl so obviously had for his grandson. Sure, he'd give Jake and Honey both a hard time, and there would have to be some new boundaries set, but he'd do that later. Right now, he had to build a new porch swing, his wife had won their bet after all.

-

taglist:

@djs8891

[wintfleur]

omg heyyy, I’d love to read something of how they would react if Juliette, mat and Quinn are out on a date night, and then when they’re out they get swarmed by paps and they’re kind of taking up their personal space and Juliette starts getting anxious??🤍

ᥫ᭡ Lights, camera, acción!

﹕─┈ pairings ( Mat barzal x Leclerc f1 driver oc! x Quinn Hughes )

°. — details ( g; angsty. w; angst, the paps being fucking creeps. Mentions of the paps trying to see under Julie’s dress. wc; 2.2k )

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( hi lovely , tysm for sending in a request !! This is like the first fic I’ve really written for this au so I had so much fun !! So sorry it took so long to get out !! Hope you all enjoy it , and please let me know what you guys think !! )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( also !! I know this is a bit unrealistic because of the privacy laws and restrictions on professional photography in Monaco . . . but let’s just pretend those don’t exist for the sake of this fic please )

“We watched that last time” Quinn complained as he set down his glass of wine on the fine white tablecloth. The linen was so soft, softer than some blankets that he's slept on in the hotels he's stayed at, but he didn't expect anything less from the very nice restaurant Juliette had taken them too. 

He licked his lips, cleaning them of any remnants of the red wine that he knew wouldn't be able to pronounce correctly. What he did know was that his girlfriend sounded incredibly hot pronouncing it and he knew Mat felt the same way with how he bit his lip and adjusted in his seat, turning his attention towards the beautiful view of the sunset covered sky that they got from sitting on the patio. 

“So? Then we can watch the second one” Mat was quick to come up with a solution to their ongoing problem of picking a movie for tonight. Mat wanted to watch The Hangover again, Quinn didn't, and Julie was not going to get between them on this topic again. 

“What do you think sweetheart?” Mat turned his playful glare away from Quinn and to Juliette who had her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm as she watched the two playfully argue with a fond smile on her red lips, her own glass of wine long forgotten. 

“I think” Juliette leaned closer to the two as she spoke slowly, the chill air of Monaco giving her bare arms and legs goosebumps. She watched as both of their gazes fell to her cleavage, lingering on the necklace with their initials decorating her neck. She could tell by the way both of their breaths hitched that they thought she was going to turn there night towards a different direction. Julie gave them a teasing smirk as she continued “That I'm going to pick the movie tonight” 

“So, what you're saying is that we're watching twilight again?” Quinn teased with a smile as he leaned back in his chair, just itching to slip out of his whitebutton up shirt that Mat had picked out for him. Julie had a habit of watching the same group of movies depending on the time of the year and how she felt. And she was really feeling Edward Cullen as of late. 

“I'll even let you guys pick which one!” Julie giggled as she reached for her glass, taking a large sip of the expensive wine. Mat and Quinn could definitely tell that the wine was starting to get to her, she was far more giggly than usual. And with how she kept on nudging her stiletto foot against their leg, touchy as well. Two Telltale signs that she was tipsy. 

Mat and Quinn got lost in their own thoughts as they looked at their girlfriend who sat across from them, their thoughts very similar. Julie looked so ethereal under the fairy lights that hung across the patio, her smile and the look in her eyes were driving them crazy. They both desperately wanted to go home . . . or at least make it to the car. 

Quinn cleared his throat and turned the conversation into a different direction, he could see the look in Mat’s eyes, and they still had to wait for their desert to arrive, and mat wasn't one with patience. Julie slowly sipped on her wine as she listened to her boys talk, tilting her head to look out at the night sky with watchful eyes, just taking in the sweet moment of being with her lovers, in her home city. 

The sweet moment was ruined when she felt a cold chill run down her back, and it was like the calm air around them totally shifted into a tense and uncomfortable feeling. She felt like she was being watched. She looked back to Quinn and Mat who were smiling all lovey to each other, neither of them seems to have the same feeling she did. 

She sat up straight in her chair and quickly looked around the empty patio when she heard the subtle sound of a clicking. That anxiousness and fear started creeping up in her bones at the thought of them being watched, please not again. She cut off their conversation with her anxious tone “Did you hear that?” 

Mat and Quinn were quick to halt their conversation when they heard the desperation in her voice, a look of worry coming across both of their faces. Quinn was the first one to speak up while Mat reached across the table to rest his hand on Julie's trembling hand that rested on the table, caressing her soft skin with his thumb “No, what did you hear?” 

“I could have sworn I heard a camera click” Julie frowned as she looked behind her one more time, all she could see was the building next door and a little bit of the busy street. She couldn't see anything from the ground level. Quinn also looked around and he couldn't see much from where they sat “Maybe you misheard? 

Click!

The throuples heads all snapped towards the sound, Mat moved his hands from Quinn's thigh and Julie's hand and stood up from his chair and walked past the empty table next them to see over the protective railing. His eyes widen when he sees a man standing next to a light post on the street, a big black camera in his hands, pointed right at them. Mat clenched his fists as he hissed in anger “What the fuck” 

“Come on we're leaving” Quinn sighed as he stood up from his chair, holding his hand out to help Julie up. Julie was quick to get up and hold onto Quinn's arm, the world slightly spinning from her getting up so fast while being tipsy. Mat flips the man off before turning around and making his way back to the table, pulling his wallet out and leaving several bills on the table, not caring if he overpaid, it would be a nice tip. 

He followed them off the balcony and through the restaurant to the back exit that led to where her car was parked. Julie leaned against Quinn's side as he led them towards the door, mat was practically seething as he walked behind them, he hated how insensitive people were, it was disgusting how the paparazzi's treated Julie. 

Mat rested his hand on Quinn's lower back as he moved in front of them to open the door for them, he was angry, but he still made sure to smile at them both as they walked out of the door. Quinn could see the anger in mat’s eyes, and he could see the anxiety in Julie’s, he hated how such a good date night turned sour because some people were such fucking creeps. 

Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled closer to him, his body warmth protecting her from the chill breeze of Monte Carlo. Mat quickened his steps so he could walk on the other side of Julie, his shoulders were tense as he kept on looking around them, hoping that his gut was wrong and that there weren't more paparazzi. 

They were quiet as they walked to the small car park, but the silence was quickly gone as they turned the corner to the car park. Julie let out a gasp of surprise and stepped back in shock at the loud shouts and flashes from the pictures being taken. Quinn was quick to gently pull Julie behind him, hiding her from the paparazzi that stood next to their car waiting for them. 

“Juliette! Juliette smile!” The paparazzi all screamed their names, shouting out questions and demands. The three of them knew better and kept their mouths closed, not giving them any attention that they desired. Julie winced and closed her eyes; every loud click and shouts made her flinch and move closer to Quinn who was leading her towards the car. 

Mat quickly pulled out the keys and unlocked the car for them to quickly get in, standing behind them protectively as the paparazzi's moved closer to them, they were surrounded, and mat was doing everything to hold back and not shove them away. Julie squeezed her eyes shut and trusted Quinn to lead her, her heart felt like it was going to shoot out of her chest. The flashing lights and the shouting made quick work to give her a headache, the wine in her bloodstream not helping. 

Quinn quickly opened the backseat door and helped Julie in the car while Mat got in the driver's seat. Quinn quickly stood behind her as she got in when he noticed one of the paparazzi crouching down, hoping to see up her dress. Quinn sent him a heated glare before getting in the backseat with her and closing the door. Mat quickly locked the doors and started the car. 

Julie slumped in the middle seat, leaning her head back with her eyes still closed as she tried to calm down. Quinn moved closer to her and softly brushed her hair out of her face, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead as he whispered “It's okay honey, they can't get to us in here. Your safe” 

“Those fucking creeps, there lucky i didn't run them over” Mat hissed angrily with a scoff as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets. Quinn kisses Julie's forehead again as she cuddles into his side, Quinn says Mat's name in a calm town, wanting him to calm down before he gets too worked up. 

Mat lets out a heavy breath telling himself to calm down, he quickly looks in the rearview mirror and frowns when he sees the upset look on Julie's face, Quinn was playing with her trembling fingers, knowing that it would help calm her down. Mat asks softly, "Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry that I ruined our date night” Julie murmured sadly, so quietly that Mat almost didn't hear her from the front seat, Ignoring her boyfriend's question. Juliette had terrible luck with the paparazzi, they never left her alone, to the point where she’s had to move twice from the fear of her being watched at her home. A fear that made her anxiety even worse. 

Mat’s heart broke at how dejected she sounded, and he wished he could just give her a big hug and kiss all her sadness away; he would make sure to do so when they got home. It hurt both of their hearts to hear those words coming out of her mouth, especially when it's definitely not her fault. Quinn frowned and continued to play with her hands and hair “it's not your fault angel, please don't say that” 

“Yeah, it's those assholes' faults, besides we have a whole lot of night left” Mat was quick to reassure her, they hated seeing her upset and sad. Mat made eye contact with Julie through the rearview mirror when she lifted her head from Quinn's chest. Mat sent her a flirtatious wink “And i know a lot of ways we can enjoy out night” 

A small chuckle leaves Julie’s lips at Mat’s flirting, he never failed to make her smile. Both of them smiled at the sound of her laughter, happy to have cheered her up. Quinn pressed a quick kiss to her temple before saying sweetly “There’s that pretty smile we missed so much” 

Julie felt her heart flutter as she tilted her head to look up at Quinn, he looked so handsome. He had some stubble from not shaving this morning, his longer hair was a little messy, and God that smile on his lips. Quinn looks down at her with a teasing smirk before glancing at mat “Awe look Shes blushing too” 

“Where did your dirty little mind go sweetheart?” Mat teased as he leaned back in the driver's seat, his right hand falling in his lap as he drove with one hand. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror as he continues to speak “I was talking about us cuddling on the couch watching twilight and eating some sweets” 

Quinn laughs along with Mat when Juliette lets out a loud groan at their teasing. She playfully pushed Quinn away, but he just grabbed her hands and pulled her closer, she was practically in his lap now. Quinn gently cupped her chin and pulled her into a soft kiss. Julie hummed and closed her eyes, her hand coming up to cup his jaw as the kiss got heated. Julie could taste the wine on his tongue, and she wanted more. 

Mat bit his lip to hold in his groan at the sight of the making out in the back of the car, having to stop himself from pressing hard on the gas to get home faster. Julie slowly pulled away from the kiss and sat back in her seat in the middle, crossing her arms over her chest with an embarrassed pout “I hate you both” 

“No, you don’t” Mat smiled as he pulled into the street that led to the apartment building where Julie's penthouse was located. Julie scooted forward in her seat, leaning forward between the driver and passengers' seat to place a quick kiss on his before falling back in her seat with a surprised squeal when mat suddenly drove over a bump, Quinn had grabbed her, and his look of worry turns into a smile at the giggle she let out. 

 “No, no i don't” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is so poorly written omg I’m gonna sob 💔 )

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow @willowpains @winterbarnesblog @yoontwin )

©️WINTFLEUR

[kedsandtubesocks]

your favorite kryptonite

Comic Bookstore Owner!Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

summary: you think it should be illegal for someone this hot to work at your favorite comics & fandom shop

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MDNI. non canon AU. Dieter as a big fandom nerd (affectionate), brief one sided annoyance to lovers, mentions and discussions of various medias including marvel, video games & anime/manga, light use of gendered language, moment of harassment from a creep, Dieter cosplaying surprise, spicy themes, reader wears Dieter’s robe but no physical description is mentioned, light drug use (marijuana), silly chaotic but sweet!Dieter

word count: 4.3k

a/n: So I’m back with another wacky AU LOL this is my love letter to all things wonderfully nerdy & to nerd Dieter who in my heart i believe is totally a Kakashi and Goku fanboy lol the biggest thanks go out to @perotovar & @burntheedges who helped championed this and gave me the power up strength to continue, so grateful for y’all babes! And to you reading this thank you so much ♡

The new mecha anime figurines immediately draw your attention. Their sharp beautiful sleek designs stand impressively and although you might not be a huge fan you admire the striking style.

You’ve been coming to Atomic Planet Shop since your best friend dragged you here in high school years ago. Containing a wide range of things like a whole area to flip through comics, to a wall of Japanese manga - it’s a nerd’s paradise.

Currently you search for a birthday gift to get your best friend and maybe snag a treat for yourself.

“Oh, a fan of Gundam I see.” An eager and new voice calls from behind.

Turning back you discover someone slinking out from behind the register. Normally Raymond, the sweet older man who runs the store, would be here. But now someone new stands in his place and you’re stunned.

The guy emerging from behind the counter is gorgeous.

Scruffy beard, fluffy hair, wearing earrings and rings on his hand, he’s hot. The shirt he wears says “Wolverine Call Me” in a heart shape. His deep chocolate even eyes seem to dance curiously.

“Uh, just looking.” You politely reply.

“Whatcha looking for?”

You explain how you’re here looking for a birthday gift for your friend.

“Oh nice.” He nods appreciatively.

While you’re turned, giving this new worker your attrition, you finally notice the glass shelf behind the register.

Your eyes go wide fast at what you spot.

“Is that a new Stardew Valley cookbook?” You can’t even process the words, you’re still in awe at the sight. Precious little drawings fill the space to show familiar dishes, like pink cake and lucky lunch, from the game. It’s gorgeous and so unique.

“Oh hell yeah, you a fan?” The mystery man exclaims. “You know we have a whole little-”

“Video game section off to the side. Yeah.” You warmly cut him off.

Originally the store had been very comics and graphic novel focused. However over the years it’s evolved to add more fandom-like elements and now there’s even a small but impressive video game focused area.

A sweetly surprised look falls over the guy’s face and it paints him utterly charming.

“So who’s your go-to spouse in SDV?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

You tell him and he nods sagely.

“I always go for Krobus. Gotta respect our cute sewer dweller.” He says.

While you laugh a flutter scurries across your heart.

A ring at the door chimes in breaking your sweet conversation and a cluster of guys walk into the store.

“Guess I’ll get back to birthday gift hunting.” You smile at the cute worker then return to the comic stacks.

Flipping through the different series and passing through many fun options, you catch the conversation off to the side.

The pack of young guys that walked in seem to know the cute worker and snicker with him about something.

“Oh yeah man, so I was rewatching Endgame the other day and the part where Scarlet Witch goes one on one with Thanos? Unrealistic!” One of them cackles and you pause.

Did they not even see or know about how powerful she’s confirmed to be in the other MCU projects? Even then, in the comics Scarlet Witch flat out changes the trajectory of reality. If anything Thanos is only strong because he got lucky.

But you hold your tongue and continue scanning through the comics.

These guys are probably just punk ass kids. You don’t want to waste your energy on these guys who probably also hate on other characters like Shuri and Carol Danvers.

Now the cute store worker scoffs amused but doesn’t correct them. Your face scrunches up.

You thought he was charming, maybe a bit eccentric, like a 90’s vibrant Lisa Frank vibe. Yet now your skin crawls just a little bit thinking he might be one of those unfortunately toxic gatekeeping jackass guys.

You decide to leave now. You still had time to look for a birthday gift for your best friend. So you’ll just come back later. Without a second glance to the cute worker, you slip out and wonder about maybe checking out another store.

Of course, you’re too tired to actively look for another store. The next time you return to Atomic Planet, you pray Raymond is there.

You’re excited and almost relieved to see the familiar eccentric older man smiling toothy at you from behind the counter.

“Well, you’re a wonderful sight for sore eyes!” He greets you and happily you catch up and chat with him.

Suddenly a chaotic bang clamors in. The handsome worker from last time tumbles out from the back room into the front as if he tried to rush over.

“Dieter man, what’s the rush?” Raymond laughs.

Dieter. So that’s his name.

The guy, Dieter, this time wears a Naruto shirt under a sleepy and cozy green robe. His hair is still fluffy and you don’t miss how wide eyes stare at you.

“Hey.” You politely but curtly reply.

“Hi.” Dieter waves and you hate how cute he looks.

“By the annoyed look on your face, I take it you’ve met this new headache.” Raymond chuckles and embarrassment rams into you knowing your annoyance is that obvious.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.” Raymond waves. “He cries when he watches My Neighbor Totoro.”

“Hey what the fuck!” Dieter cries and you press your lips together trying not to laugh.

“Just ignore him, honey.” Raymond winks and you grin wide.

After thanking him, you head back to the birthday gift search. Searching now through the manga selection you notice something moves by the corner of your eye.

Turning to the side, a large Totoro plushie floats beside you obviously being held up.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” A high pitch tone acting as the adorable creature's voice speaks out and your lips twitch.

From the side Dieter pops his head out.

His hair, rivaling a bird's nest, creates a cloud around him and his wide doe-like eyes peeking out are so hard to be fully annoyed at.

“You know,” he now fully speaks in his voice, moving to hold the large adorable plushie in his arms. “Never got your name.”

“You have my full permission to beat his ass if you need to, dear.” Raymond yells dully from the cash register and Dieter squawks horrified.

You laugh bright. Turning to the side you see Dieter already holds his hand out. The half crooked grin on his face paints him so boyish.

“Name’s Dieter.”

You shake his hand, finally giving him your name.

“So, do you really think Scarlet Witch can’t take on Thanos?” You offer light.

Dieter sighs loud. “I knew those guys and what we were talking about might’ve pissed you off.”

So he was watching you. That brings in a curious warmth that courses through you.

“Well I do apologize.” He bows his head a bit. You at least appreciate that.

“I bet those guys are the same ones that don’t like Carol Danvers either or even know that Squirrel Girl defeated Thanos.” You add a bit snippy.

“You know your shit, I like that.” Dieter replies proud and the way his voice drips out smooth does something dangerous to your heart.

You shrug but fight off the smug grin threatening to mirror his.

“Maybe you need to go Gandalf on my ass and teach me a thing or two, like maybe over coffee?” Dieter offers and you’re knocked out.

So he feels this spark, chemistry or whatever it is, between you too.

“Maybe,” you reply back with a grin. “For now I gotta get back to gift shopping.”

“You still haven’t found your friend a gift?! Geeze, what kind of bestie are you?!” He cries out teasing and you roll your eyes.

It’s getting harder staying annoyed with him and not taking up his offer to get coffee.

You eventually decide on a comic art book for your friend and then spot the assorted mystery box trinkets to maybe snag a few for her and even for yourself.

“I know everyone says Goku would beat the fuck out of Thanos, but you know who else would too without breaking a sweat?” Dieter’s voice again arrives at your side. He’s rather persistent, your cute, slightly not so annoying gnat.

“Sailor Moon.” He answers himself sagely.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You snicker amused.

He practically beams besides you when you agree.

You ask if he’s a fan.

“Oh hell yeah! Sailor Venus is my fav.” Dieter cries. “I can sing the entire song theme opening for you if you’d like. Not to brag, but that and the second Naruto theme opening are my go to karaoke songs.”

You laugh, feeling it deep into your bones. He’s chaotic, but unbearably endearing.

In a blink, a rush comes in all at once. The fun sweet bubble you had been cultivating deflates and you hate how disappointed you get seeing Dieter scramble to try and work.

When you go check out, you’re surprised he’s the one at your register.

Even though he’s focused on working you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker up to you shyly but with a confident smirk. He turns to fully gift wrap the items knowing they’re going to be a present and you thank him for that.

When you grab your bag he gives you a smooth wink and you playfully glare at him.

Later at home, when you unpack everything, you find an extra surprise in the bag.

It’s a small box of strawberry pocky snacks you know you didn’t buy.

There’s a sticky note attached to it.

A sweet treat for a sweet customer! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ ♡)

Call me if you ever wanna get coffee or just talk nerd shit and make me absolutely fall even harder for you

Underneath the message, he left you his number and you can’t believe it. After squealing about it with a few of your friends, you text him.

Dieter replies back quick with the funniest excited cat reaction meme and you realize you might be in the best kind of trouble with this guy.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

You didn’t expect the convention to be this crowded. Chatter fills the air as cosplayers move all around.

The booths stretch endless with countless tempting merch.

Your best friend tried to get you to plan a fun cosplay with her. However neither you or her could decide on what to pick in time. Now you're gladly comfortable in an everyday outfit and simply allow yourself to be in awe at the intricate lovely costumes.

While scanning the convention and taking in the beautifully controlled chaos in, you also hope to catch sight of someone in particular.

“Dude, stop trying to look for your hot nerd boyfriend.” Your best friend snorts and your heart trips over itself.

Embarrassed, you chide her and remind her that Dieter isn’t your boyfriend.

“Oh yeah because texting a guy everyday for the past month and going to cute cat cafes with him isn't dating.” She deadpans with a smirk.

You playfully glare at her.

It’s not official and you don’t want to rush whatever this is with Dieter. You haven’t even been to his place yet. You don’t mind though. You’ve just been enjoying getting to know him more.

You learn Dieter’s favorite video game is Hollow Knight and his favorite anime is Neon Genesis Evangelion.

His favorite comic book villain of all time is the Condiment King.

Matcha flavored Kit Kats have become his newest obsession session.

He saw all the Lord of the Rings movies in theater and can practically quote The Two Towers. Still has the comic book his best friend in middle school gave to him. Also refuses to let any of his Animal Crossing villagers leave because he’s so attached to them.

Dieter had made you laugh more than you can count, but he can be a bit ridiculous.

Like when he called you after he got off a late closing night shift to ask if Pacific Rim was real did you think the Kaiju monsters would maybe stop attacking if they found out how much he loves them.

Dieter does have his headache moments, but he’s an endearing kaleidoscope of a soul.

Earlier this week when you visited him at the shop, he said he was going to be here at the conversation. But with how bad the convention center’s wifi is, you haven’t been able to contact him.

“He even said he was coming in cosplay just for today right? Any ideas what he’s showing up as?” Your best friend wiggles her eyes while you and her stroll down an artist alley.

“No!” You huff still upset. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

While you appreciate him wanting to wait for a dramatic reveal, you wanted to know what his outfit was from the minute he told you.

You wanted to maybe try dedicatedly searching for him, but you get completely enthralled by the mass amounts of merchandise delightfully distracting you.

You spot incredible fan art pieces, adorable handmade keychains, and very expensive but beautiful figurines.

It’s like a mini wonderland.

Checking out the cute earrings at the stall you’re at, you lose sight of your best friend. When you turn to excitedly talk with her, that’s when you spot it.

She’s a few steps away, very politely trying to inch away from a guy, dressed in a Deadpool suit without the mask on. He’s talking way too aggressively and getting way too close to your friend.

Immediately you rush over and happily jump in.

“I gotta show you this!” You thankfully have the best excuse to pull her away.

But the guy only takes it as an opening to instead follow you both now.

“Just ignore him.” Your best friend whispers to you.

You and her continue to stare at the jewelry. Yet the guy remains. He continues his discussion and seems to get upset that you or your friend aren’t replying. It’s creepy and persistent especially with how he refuses to budge or take the hint.

You try lightly deflating the situation by apologizing and saying you and your friend just want to enjoy shopping.

“Oh, is shopping all you two came here for? You know, you fucking losers aren’t even in cosplay. Fake ass fans.”

Now he gets really aggressive.

The air and tension shift. The poor cute shop owner in her adorable R2D2 dress even reacts getting upset.

“Look, we just wanna enjoy the con.” Your best friend replies sharp with a hard scowl.

“What in the fantastic fuck do we have here?”

Suddenly Dieter’s voice rings out excited and bright and you almost sob.

You whip your face around to spot him.

Except it is and isn’t him.

His hair is slicked back, gelled and curled. Thick gray colored hairs line his temples. It even looks like he shaved a bit.

He’s dressed as Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic himself.

The outfit looks based on the classic 1960’s first comic book released aesthetic and it compliments Dieter’s frame gorgeously. His shoulders look unbelievably broad and his even arms seemed bigger in the tight soft baby blue material. You’ve never seen him in something so form fitting and it has your throat drying up.

You’ve even momentarily forgotten about the guy bothering you and your best friend.

“You bothering these two, ya fucking creep?” Dieter says with a nudge of his chin.

It’s hot as fuck.

The guy stunned gapes like a fish and stammers, but no words come out.

“Beat it before I shove a lightsaber up your ass.” Dieter replies bored, but it adds a sense of deadliness to his words.

The Deadpool cosplayer turns on his heels and immediately scrambles away. Your knees almost buckle overwhelmed.

Your best friend and even the stall owner cry out wildly excited in a bright neon awe of Dieter. You swallow back a sob as you turn to embrace him. His warm large hands pat you comfortingly.

“You saved us.” You teasingly sob, but truthfully you know he did.

“I’d been looking for you for a hot minute and was about to make some sort of raptor call noise to get your attention until I saw that shit going down.” Dieter explains.

“What a hero.” Your friend jokingly adds, but you hear it in her voice how grateful she is.

Dieter snickers.

“Guess you could almost say I was fantastic… mister fantast-”

You cut Dieter off with a quick kiss to his cheek before he can make the pun and your friend along with the stall owner laugh.

Gingerly, almost tentatively you move to intertwine your hand with his. He reacts immediately pulling you to his side.

For the rest of the convention Dieter stays besides you, walking hand in hand with you.

Even when you arrive at the booth for Atomic Planet, the real reason why Dieter was here to help work, Raymond waves him away saying to enjoy the convention with you.

Your heart flutters and Dieter squeezes your hand excitedly.

The rest of the time is a blissful geeked out dream. Dieter buys you a few keychains, even treats you and your best friend to a bite to eat.

You came to the convention with your best friend…

But you leave with Dieter.

Especially when your best friend urges you to go home with him and enjoy his hot cosplay.

You give her a look when she cheekily tells you that, but she isn’t wrong. Even when you grabbed the quick bite before the night ended, it was hard trying to ignore the amount of people turning to stare at Dieter with wide curious eyes.

And a little twinge of something faintly possessive bubbles in you.

That’s why when you slide into the passenger seat of his car, your heart drums loudly in your ears trying to fight against the urge to just suck his cock right here in the car.

“So uh…” Dieter begins cautiously and even a bit bashfully. “I don’t wanna sound too aggressive and you can tell me no, but can I kiss you-”

You don’t even let him finish before you’re sliding over the seat to him.

He scrambles and immediately pulls you close as his lips become a magnet to yours.

This is the first time you’re really truly kissing Dieter. You’ve kissed him gently good night before. He’s been cute with leaving kisses to your cheek or even against the back of your head like a Victorian gentleman. But now it’s a raw unraveling getting to tasting him from the source so greedy.

You won’t dare admit it outloud, but the soft feel of his lips, the scrape of his jaw, the smell of his delicious cologne, and how warm he consumes you -

It’s pretty fantastic.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

Dieter’s room is a treasure trove.

Framed posters of Pacific Rim, AKIRA, The Iron Giant, and the original Pokemon Kanto generation line the walls. His bookshelf is filled not just with comic books and manga, but various impressive graphic novels.

A mock infinity gauntlet sits beside his television. So many anime figurines, including a really nice Goku one, stand protecting his reading collection.

What surprises you is his expansive and sleek gaming corner which includes a striking computer set up.

“You look hot as fuck standing in my robe and knowing I just came in you a few hours ago is even hotter.” Dieter says from his bed in the most sinful but half groggily asleep voice.

You smirk and continue to soak in his room.

“So do you get good discounts from the store?” You ask.

“Yeah, but it also helps that I co-own it.” Dieter casually tells you. You hear him shifting among the seats then catch the flicker of the lighter igniting.

However your eyes go wide realizing what he said and you whip back around to him.

“Wait?! You co-own the shop?”

“Well yeah, Raymond, that old fuck, is my uncle.” Dieter coughs out as he exhales from the hit he took off his weed pipe.

Dieter even explains how, because his uncle is starting to get a bit older, he decided to step in to help run the place.

“Besides, how else could I show off my extensive knowledge of elvish language other than at the shop?” He says proudly.

How did you just now learn this?

Dieter reminds you of a rubik cube you think you’ve finally figured out, think you found a groove for - until one out of the corners a jack in the box pops out.

Before you can even ask him about the shop or about his uncle, Dieter’s phone goes off.

The loud ringtone sings into the room and your eyes go wide hearing it. Dieter checks who’s calling then denies the call muttering out about how spam scam callers need to be fed to a sarlacc pit.

“Wait…is Cascada’s ‘Everytime We Touch’ actually your ringtone?” You ask, still not believing it.

“Fuck yeah it is, baby! That song is untouchable!” He cries and you can’t help but laugh.

Dieter smirks then pats the open spot on the bed where you had been resting before. Sliding back into the warmth with him, he gently pulls your face to him and kisses you softly.

The taste of the smoke lingers on his lips, but it’s still him beneath it all. You eventually wind up in his arms, cozy and warm in his embrace.

“I noticed the nice audio and mic setup.” You comment while his fingers draw aimlessly against your skin. “You trying to maybe go the YouTuber route?”

“Nah. Maybe. Who knows.” He shrugs. “It’s mainly for something else.”

Now his voice grows a bit distant.

You gently ask him what that something else is and Dieter fidgets

“Don’t… don’t laugh okay.” He mumbles adorably.

You reassure him earnestly you won’t.

He sighs.

“So I’ve been wanting to get into voice acting work.” Dieter reveals with a mutter, even sounding a bit embarrassed

However, you perk up so bright. Turning in his arms you eagerly smile at him.

“Di, that sounds amazing!” You mean those words.

You can’t help but ramble about how great he would be for that. He has the personality for it and he’s told you how he’s done some stage acting work. Plus, it just fits him. You think of all the silly voices he does and you hope now he can make this path a reality.

Dieter’s handsome face falls a bit and you stop. You wonder if you’ve scared him off, or maybe he thinks you’re possibly making fun of him.

You’re about to apologize when Dieter swiftly moves to kiss you feral and fierce. His tongue slides into your mouth with a moan you greedily swallow.

The conversation is put on pause when his hands slide up your thighs, straight to your core, and you fall apart with him once again.

Basking in the afterglow you rest against his chest now feeling sleepy, not even knowing what time it is. You realize being with Dieter is like existing in a realm a bit separated from reality sometimes and it’s beautiful.

“I don’t wanna be that lame guy,” Dieter begins. “But shit, I already really really kind of like you a fucking lot.”

Your lips fight back a smile you can’t beat. You turn to bury your face against his warm bared chest.

“I really kinda like you a lot too.” You admit.

“That’s unfortunate.” He replies and you snort.

“It’s okay. I only want the good discount on merch at the shop.” You reply cheekily.

“Aw! You don’t even want me for my body? Just my discount?!” He cries hurt and even jokingly moves to shove you off.

“Well.” Then he pauses. “Guess I could call my dick a discount, but then again… there isn’t anything short about that-”

You cut him off with an eye roll and he snickers wildly amused.

His fingers move to tickle you, to corrupt you into his same fit of giggles and you wheezing trying to squirm away from him.

Dieter’s hands eventually snake around you and draw you back into his chest. You melt against him willingly and even sigh comforted.

“Next time if we go to a convention, if you feel comfortable with it, you should cosplay.” He comments.

You admit that you’ve thought about it and list a few ideas you’ve had. But mainly, your mind thinks about the different outfits Dieter could go as.

The thought of him now as Doctor Doom instead of the heroic Reed Richards is a glorious thought.

But of course there’s so many other incredible options.

Dieter as Harvey or even Marlon from Stardew Valley.

Even a few anime characters that would fit him so well come to mind.

Specifically Kishibe from the series Chainsaw Man, with his striking cut across his mouth and incredibly lazy hot older demeanor, just fits Dieter so well it stirs something in you again.

“Maybe next con,” Dieter offers and pulls you from your thoughts. “I’m thinking about going as Tuxedo Mask. Do you wanna be my Sailor Moon?”

A couples matching outfit.

You didn’t even think of that. That’s what he was nudging towards.

You didn’t even think of that. But just getting to be beside him is something sweetly moving.

Then thinking about him in the sleek tuxedo outfit, in the white mask, is a dangerous thought you already ache to maybe see come true.

“We’ll see.” You hum with a smile, but when you go to kiss him it feels like a gilded warm promise.

“Never mind. I want us to go as Undertale characters and I wanna be Sans.” Dieter says suddenly and you snort against his shoulder.

This time spent with him, and the promise of maybe something more, is sweet starlit bliss.

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part five

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru spends his days distracted until the new chef comes up with a possible remedy to his worries. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: mentions of weight loss due to depression

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 2,765

𝜗𝜚 an: this part will immediately be followed up with a strictly nsfw part. it is skippable and does little to the story building. it is just intended to add some yearning and build up to the prince's emotions. thank you all for your patience!

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p6┊

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Prince Gojo?” the Princess hums, following by his side. The sun beats down on the couple as they walk around the small pond of a local park, sweat and humidity clinging to their skin. The Princess fans herself, looking up at the Prince as his head stays forward, focused on the view in front of him. His eyebrows are furrowed in thought, barely noticing the people passing by who are enthusiastically greeting the two. “Are you feeling well?” she asks him, with no response. He’s distracted - acting as if he has something better on his mind than her small talk. She puffs out her cheeks, the skin turning red as she greets the passing crowds for the both of them. Her fan picks up speed, batting her eyelashes while awkwardly looking around before deciding to clear her throat unusually loud. It’s then Satoru looks down at her, eyebrows still furrowed and lips in a pout. “Is there something on your mind, Prince Gojo?” she asks him respectfully, all though exasperated by the effort. 

“It’s quite hot,” he tells her. His white strands stick to his forehead; the pale skin of his face appearing dewy in the sunlight, slick with his perspiration. He looks uncomfortable, the long finger of his right hand digs into the collar of his shirt tight to his neck, tugging it away from his throat. 

“Well, maybe we should get you home,” she suggests and he nods, clumsily clasping their hands together as he leads her to their carriage. 

𝜗𝜚

The ride to the palace lasted a lifetime for the Prince, and if it wasn’t for the Princess wishing Satoru a good rest of his day, he would have forgotten to see her off. He kisses her gloved hand, thanking her for accompanying him on his stroll before walking off, taking the steps to the palace two at a time. Her brows furrow, confused as she watches the Prince hurriedly ascend the stairs before getting in her own carriage to take the long trip home. 

Satoru marches through the halls of the palace, his racing thoughts unsatisfied by the scene he witnessed earlier that morning. Upon discovering your daily schedule (something that took Satoru only a few days), he thought very little of his disruption to the kitchen staff - too distracted by the opportunity of getting to see you. He knew it was wrong, and it never did anything to benefit his terrible mood, but like clockwork Satoru paid you a visit twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. Typically you did nothing noteworthy; you spent most of your time labeling fresh herbs or peeling pounds of potatoes all while avoiding eye contact with him. But some days you did something different. Like this morning - when he found you side by side with that blond man he was growing to loathe, watching as he julienned carrots with award-worthy technique and precision while Satoru stood awkwardly - only able to watch. His day was set up to be poor from the start. 

So while he couldn’t maintain a simple conversation with the Princess on his date, he knew he also wouldn’t be able to maintain focus on any of his responsibilities. Not until he went back in the kitchens to get a look at you undisturbed. It was unrealistic for you to be working because Satoru took note this was usually your scheduled lunch time but he knew it would be pointless to continue his day without checking - just to be certain.

He all but groaned when his visit didn’t grant him the image he desired; instead coming face to face with the man he was hoping to avoid. “Good afternoon, Prince Gojo,” Nanami bowed, putting down the knife he was sharpening to greet the Prince. Satoru didn’t bother to entertain his polite greeting, choosing to turn around to make his way to his study. “Are you looking for her?” the man asks, stopping Satoru in his tracks. He turns around, meeting Nanami’s eyes for the first time. He doesn’t so much as shift under his gaze, something Satoru wasn’t used to as he studied his face. His eyes were warm, looking at Satoru with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. From Nanami’s point of view, the lanky Prince looked disheveled. His under eyes were purple and his hair was sticking up in every direction. He knew the reason the Prince insisted his personal servant was too useless to simply procure him a glass of water wasn’t because Peter was incompetent; but because Satoru needed an excuse to see you. He had heard far too much from you to be blind to the Prince’s tactics, and if you weren’t going to do something about it, he was sure going to try himself. Satoru begins to wordlessly back up, almost as if he doesn’t trust where the conversation was headed - choosing to avoid it all together when Nanami interrupted him one last time. “I could give her your message,” the Prince’s eyes narrowed, “Perhaps a note?” Nanami counts on the Prince having years of experience in reading between the lines to understand what he was implying - but if Satoru realizes it he keeps it to himself, leaving the kitchens wordlessly to return to his study. 

𝜗𝜚

It’s dinner time when the Prince reconsiders the chef’s suggestion. The Queen requested Satoru’s presence in their dining room, citing the reason to be because of some much needed family time. Satoru couldn’t bother to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head. The Prince eats his full course meal in silence while his parents torture him with small talk: discussing the weather, the flowers in bloom outside, and the construction of a new fountain the Gojo’s did not need. Satoru slurped his soup and fiddled with the napkin in his lap while he beared the awkward tension that was eating as a family. His fingers ran along the smooth fabric of the blue napkin, feeling around the cloth material underneath his fingertips when he suddenly felt something foreign. It was the rough material of paper, his fingers clasped around it, tugging at it while assuming it was a tag of some sort. What he didn’t expect was for the paper to come loose, slipping right out with just one jerk of his hand. Satoru looks down, realizing it is a note and not a sewn in designer tag. He makes sure to keep it in his lap, squinting to read the small letters, ‘She needs to talk to you about that night. Without others being privy’.

“Satoru, is something wrong?” his mother asks upon noticing her son was preoccupied with his lap. 

He shakes his head, “No. Just spilled some soup,” he tells her, lips in a tight line. His under eyes are darker than before, but his hair is just as messy and his pale skin is still ghostly white. If she notices the wild look in his eyes, she ignores it, giving him an odd look before speaking.

“Well, that’s what the napkins are for,” she snaps her fingers, “Another napkin for the Prince, please,” she requests and the servants are quick to remove Satoru’s napkin from his lap. He clasps the note in his fists, making sure to conceal it before thanking the man who replaces the cloth.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru doesn’t let the note leave his grasp for the rest of dinner and it doesn’t see the light of day until he makes it to the desk in his study. The Prince looks down at it, obviously knowing the owner of the sliver of paper. He begins to pace, leaving the note on his workspace while he crosses the room. He nibbles on the skin around his nail, chewing the tender skin to distract from his racing thoughts while he considers what the note meant. It implied you had something more to say than what you had admitted in the stables - but someone was holding you back. His mind reeled while he considered what you could possibly be keeping inside. It was entirely irrational and made little sense - but he leaped to the worst conclusion first - believing you had made a special friend, and that they didn’t want you to have contact with him. His entire body began to shake, picturing somebody keeping you all to themselves. Keeping you from Satoru - who tried as he might - cannot fight the entitlement he feels towards you. You were his first. You would always be his - no matter what anyone tried to erase. The ugly green monster he kept buried deep flared to life in his chest. He huffed, shoulders shuddering with each heaving breath that did little to tame the creature fanning the flames of his hurt. He knew he would finally lose it all if that was the announcement you had to make. So for his sake, he had to imagine something else. Something more realistic. He continued to think about what could possibly be the reasoning. Perhaps your confession was that you were scared of the opinions people could have on you beyond the walls of the castle. That you would make an awful Princess and even though Satoru despised the idea of you feeling so self conscious; so unaware of just how special you were… it had to be the reason. Your shared kiss in the garden must have awakened your feelings - and brought on the unpleasant emotions of feeling unworthy to the throne. Scared of the possible backlash and perhaps worried about what the other servants would think of you - you kept your true feelings to yourself and lashed out at him, hurting Satoru in the process. He began to calm, rationalizing his worries with something he could stomach. For now, he chose to believe that had to be closest to reality. 

So while the tides of his anxiety lowered he made his way to his desk, tearing off a small piece of parchment paper and scrawling his message:

‘Why did you leave me?’

𝜗𝜚

Satoru stalks through the halls, rounding each corner with a purpose while he makes his way to the kitchens - desperate to get his note to you quickly, dying to read your response. To anyone he would look unhinged; hair disheveled and clothes hanging off of his lanky frame while he all but ran through the palace.  When he makes it, Nanami is there in his usual spot, sharpening his knives. Upon entering, the blond man inclines his head - silently greeting the Prince while Satoru approaches his workspace. “How do I know if I can trust you?” He all but huffs out, hands shaking in the pockets of his trousers. Being a Prince, he was used to people bending over backwards to appease his every wish but this was different. It puzzled him to try and understand why he would get involved in something that didn’t concern him. It left Satoru weary. To Nanami, the Prince looked like a man that had gone mad - and if Nanami wasn’t offering to put himself on the line he could maybe judge the trembling Prince in front of him. 

“I don’t think you have any other choice,” Nanami replied. A silent agreement began to form between the two of them - both deciding to put their faith into the other while they stood frozen. Satoru made the first move, taking the note from his pocket and sliding it across the smooth metal table. Nanami only nodded, pocketing the note in the breast pocket of his coat and picking his knife back up, diligently sharpening it against the smooth stone tool. Satoru was gone as quickly as he arrived. Nanami chose to retire for the night soon after. But not before paying you a quick visit.

𝜗𝜚

There’s a knock on your door late into the night. You sit up in bed, bookmarking the page you were reading before shuffling over to greet your unexpected guest: and unexpected Nanami was. The broad-shouldered man wastes no time slipping into your room, closing the door softly behind him and towering over you while you stumble back to give way to him. The door quietly clicks shut, leaving the two of you alone in the dim light of your bedroom. “Nanami?” you question him, voice laced with confusion upon seeing the chef at your quarters this late at night. 

“Don’t be mad at me,” is all he says, pulling the note from his chef’s coat and placing it in your delicate palm. Your eyes squint down at the sloppy writing on the torn paper, breath catching upon recognizing the handwriting. You would never be able to forget the familiar scribble of Satoru’s penmanship. You look back up at the blond, observing the look on his face that indicated he had something to do with it. 

“What is this?” you ask him, shaking your head in disapproval. “Nanami - I couldn’t possibly-” you start but he cuts you off. 

“But you want to…” he murmurs, his soft eyes meeting yours. “You could tell him the truth… without anyone finding out,” he tells you, “No one would have to know.” You shake your head again, scoffing at the acknowledgement that Nanami was willing to put his reputation on the line for you. “I know it’s been eating you alive,” he tries to reason with you. There’s no mirror in your tiny living space but if you could see what Nanami saw you would be eye to eye with the ghost of your former self. Gaunt and colorless. You looked sickly - almost like the light inside you was dimming to nothing the longer time passed without the Prince. 

You shake your head, feeling queasy at the idea of causing trouble for yet another person - all to satisfy your ridiculous craving... just to feed the hunger inside of you that yearned for the Prince in every way imaginable - against the betterment of everyone around you. “He can’t know,” you wince, almost like it hurt you to turn away the delicious offer Nanami was supplying you. 

“He’s set to be engaged,” Nanami calls out your name, trying to snap some sense into you, “At least tell him the truth before you never get another chance,” his voice is as desperate as the thoughts in your head. 

“He could never go through with it if I did this…” you trail off, scared to acknowledge the fact Satoru would drop everything for you. He would turn his back on all of his responsibilities - on his family’s wishes - on the kingdom’s best interest. You knew this - no matter how cruel you could possibly be to him. No matter how much you ignored him; he would never truly be satisfied without you; and all though he looked close with the Princess, you knew the hurt you held inside was twisting his own fragile and tentative actions into purposeful, deliberate engagements with the Princess. He craved you with every fiber of his being. That’s why you couldn’t give him hope - you knew he already had it deep down. And if you confirmed how you felt he would stop at nothing to get his way. No matter who he had to tear down to get it. No matter how many lives he’d put at risk in the process. Your mouth grew dry at the thought.

“Ultimately it’s up to you,” his shoulders dropped, knowing that it was only your decision to make, “The option is open as long as I’m here,” he promises, gently squeezing your hand to make a fist, covering Satoru’s note. “Think about it,” he says. Exiting just as quietly as he entered. 

𝜗𝜚

You tuck his note into your book and lay on your bed. Your nerves eat away at you - every inch of your body alive with anxiety. You promised yourself that the right decision was to leave it - that you needed to throw away the note and never entertain the idea ever again. But another part of you was unable to stop thinking about the opportunity of being able to communicate freely with Satoru - even if it was only one note. One note, you considered. Just one singular note to lessen your guilt and to hopefully ease Satoru’s hurt. You toss and turn in bed - picturing ways you could let Satoru know how you felt without sabotaging all those agonizing months you endured to protect your family. You head to your quaint desk, putting your quill to paper and letting not only your emotions, but your logic bring the page to life.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p6┊

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(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[insuke69]

Imagining Hobie being so fucking clingy when you’re gone on a vacation or something:(((

★ Headcannons with Hobie x Latinx reader <;33

☆ Warnings: fluff, ‘implied’ smut (yes, they fuck in a memory), explicit words.

__________________

——————

You’re off visiting family, away from Hobie just for a short visit since it’s a younger cousins fifteenth birthday.

You aren’t close with her but she adores you like an older sibling so why not? Two weeks isn’t that long anyway since you also would like to catch up with the very little non-toxic Hispanic family you have.

The flight is smooth besides the fact that it was over two hours of no service, songs on repeat in your headphones, and the book you’re so happy you remembered to pack.

______

You forget the time difference between Hobie in Camden and you over here, for you it’s midday and for him it’s the middle of the night and he seems so.. desperate.

His texts are slow and it’s obviously being done by his singular non dominant hand.

“Hi can you pls send a pic”

“2 me”

“Please??”

On your end, it’s almost so clear that he wants to see you like the good adorable partner he is, already missing you. You send him an innocent picture where you’re holding your phone at an angle above you and smile up at it through your lashes.

Meanwhile Hobie..

Hobie always would have an arm around you, or holding your hand, or his lips on any part of skin he could access on you.

He was alone on his houseboat, laying on only his side of the bed even if the usually warm and used spot beside him was empty and void of his lover.

He didn’t like the idea of porn, even if he was ‘living the dream’ of most men where his partner wasn’t around to stop him, he still hated it. It was fake and unrealistic with plastic or disgustingly young looking actors, so he settled for closing his eyes and thinking of the one who’s truely his.

Remembering how pretty the little whines were as they escaped your lips when he slowly eased himself into your tight warm hole..

And before he knew it; he was palming his erecting and fumbling his phone to text you.

His breath shudders slightly at the sight of you and he began imagining how your adoring hand would look around his length, his own fist trying to imitate his imagination tightly.

How your lips would wrap around the head of his weeping cock, how your cheeks would hollow out and make it all disappear, those cute gag sounds and tears that threaten your eyes when your nose reaches the small trimmed bush at the base of his member.

You fully expect a normal response from Hobie in a way. Anything ranging from “You look nice td” to something dirty, hence why you’re positioned in a way where nobody around you could see your phone screen.

Instead, a voice message pops up and a part of you wants to hesitate in checking what it is because you know that Hobie doesn’t really send voice messages unless his hands are really busy.

You play it against your ear quietly and your heart bangs against your chest at how needy his voice is, his gulps and whimpers and you can only imagine how beautiful he looks right now.

“Oh my fuckin’.. you’re so good lookin’ for me, I need ya so bad righ’ now.” You can hear his heavy breaths in the message and slight rhythmic sound, fap fap fap fap.

It immediately makes your heat grow warm between your legs and you adjust yourself in your seat with your thighs together tightly as an attempt to ease this, knowing that you’re at a nice fancy restaurant for your cousins ‘birthweek’.

You decide to excuse yourself to the bathroom and be a little more generous with Hobie, locking yourself into a stall and sending him a better picture where you’re topless and your chest and abdomen in perfect sight, pointer finger and middle finger holding a nipple between them.

“Here’s your damn meal <3” you captioned it before sending, putting your shirt back on as you awaited his response.

It was a video this time, angled so you could see his pretty dick being desperately fucked in his ringed left hand.

his eyebrows are knitted together and his mouth is dropping the cutest curses and whimpers before he cums, his seed spurting out onto his abdomen and hand before his lips move to utter a whisper.

"I need ya so bad, can't wait 'till you're back, love."

[sammyluvr]

now you know — sam winchester

cw : gn!awkward!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, canon typical violence and monsters, near drowning experience, poor editing as usual, 6.8K words. part two of makes you wonder.

summary : you become more entangled in “agent” sam’s case when you come across the monster he seeks. pronunciation guide (using scottish gaelic) : each-uishge — yahk-oosh-ga. [ disclaimer, i found this on the internet! i’m not scottish nor do i speak scottish gaelic, so correct me if i’m wrong ! ]

the bar isn’t your go-to spot after work, mostly because that means you have to talk to people for some reason or another, but you’re feeling good tonight. good, and also still questioning your entire worldview so you figure it’s a good time as any to get a drink.

you’re halfway through your drink, eyes downcast and tracking the details of the table’s wood, when a hand on the back of the chair across from you snags your attention. you look up, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger. the first thing you notice is how beautiful he is. his rich, lightly curled dark brown hair and finely sculpted features are the kind of handsome that resemble a classic greco-roman kind of beauty.

his unrealistically good looks and charming scottish accent as he asks, “would you mind if i sit here?” almost disarm you completely before you remember that means you’ll have to talk to him. plus, you have a date to schedule with your mysterious agent sam.

“well, i’m headed home soon, so i guess that’s alright,” you say, trying to immediately display your disinterest without flat out rejecting him. when he slides into the chair with a smile that teeters between sleezy and charming, you wish you’d just said no.

“maybe i can change your mind,” he drawls, and you have to hold back from physically cringing. you now desperately want him to go, but don’t know how to get him to politely after having made the mistake letting him sit. “let me buy you another drink,” he offers.

you shake your head. “no, that’s– that’s not really very necessary. this is enough for me,” you refuse, motioning to your half-empty glass.

“oh, come darlin’! a free drink might not be necessary, but it surely’s a nicety, don’t ya think?” he raises a thick, neatly groomed eyebrow at you, making an unfortunately successful attempt at a handsome, flirty look. 

for once, you hope that your smile looks just as pained and awkward as it feels. “it’s a kind offer, i just, you know, don’t want another drink, so… that’s okay.”

he lifts his hands a little to signal surrender. “your loss then, love.” as he searches for some other flirty quip that might persuade you better, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and if you weren’t paying close attention in that exact moment, you would’ve completely missed the sprinkle of sand that falls from his hair and into his lap at the movement. you inhale sharply, suddenly afraid.

you try to sound casual when you pull a classic, “you know, i should really get going. i have an early morning tomorrow.” gathering your stuff up into your arms, you stand and try to convince yourself that you’re seeing things and that even if there was sand in his hair, it was just a coincidence. “have a nice night!”

then, as you spare him one last glance, he tilts his head when he bids you a flirtatious goodbye. “hope to see you here again,” he grins and a few more grains of sand fall to his shoulder, it’s light color stark against the dark fabric of his button up shirt. you try to stay unreadable, but your gaze follows the sand as it falls and his eyes follow yours to his shoulder. he brushes the dirt off and a dangerous look crosses his face. quite frankly, the look terrifies you, so you don’t waste a second to spin on your heel and rush out of the building towards your parked car.

the moment your back is turned, you’re digging around your bag until you find sam’s business card. with shaky hands and hurried feet, you punch the phone number into your phone and hold it to your ear, silently begging for him to pick up as you exit the building and the cool air of the night hits you.

“hello?” comes the newly familiar voice of sam through the phone speaker.

“sam! hi, it’s me, from the museum. you know, earlier today,” you think your voice may have come out a little panicked.

“yeah, yeah, of course,” he answers, voice please at first, then turning more serious, “good to hear from you, is everything alright? it’s sort of late.” he seems to have picked up on the scared edge to your voice. 

“i, um, god, i’m about to sound a little bit insane, but i’m just gonna say it. are you a real fbi agent? if yes, that’s great and i’m probably just really paranoid and making things up, if not, can i say something sort of crazy because i think that you might actually believe me? you know, if you’re, uh– not actually an fbi agent who thinks that totally normal reasons can explain those deaths you’re investigating?” you ramble, stumbling awkwardly through your words and feeling like a complete fool. there’s a moment of silence where you curse the fact that you had to park so far away, because you just want to be safely tucked into your car and headed home. the thought that sam thinks you’re totally off your rocker crosses your mind.

but sam’s sigh on the other line sounds almost relieved, and he answers. “i’m not– not an fbi agent. and trust me, whatever you could say that you might think is crazy, is probably nothing compared to some of the shit i’ve seen, so you can say whatever it is. i promise i won’t think you’re crazy.”

“okay,” you say breathlessly as your vague suspicions are confirmed. then you let it just tumble from your lips. “i think that the each-uisge is real and that i just met it and–” you cut yourself off when you hear something behind you. you’ve been so focused on sam that you haven’t been paying enough attention to anything else, and when you whip your head around, you see the man from the bar following you from a bit of a distance. you draw in a sharp breath of fear.

“shit,” sam curses, “where? you gotta get away from it, meet me at the–,” he instructs quickly.

you cut him off, real panic entering your voice as you pick up your speed, almost at a run. “fuck, sam, he’s coming for me, i think– i– i don’t know. but he had sand in his hair and he saw me looking at it and he’s following me and i’m almost to my car,” you ramble, glancing over your shoulder. the man is closer than before, he’s clearly picked up his own pace as well. “but he’s getting closer and i don’t have any iron or silver or anything and i–”

“hey, hey, listen to me. run as fast as you can to your car. you’re gonna be okay.” sam’s calm and level headedness are helpful, and immediately, you begin to sprint. but with a glance backwards, you see the thing gaining on you with unnatural speed. “drive anywhere and i’ll track your phone, i’m already on my way to come get you, okay? you’re gonna be fine.” 

you don’t realize you’re crying until you choke on your tears when you try to speak. “sam i– i don’t think i can make it, he’s too fast. the lake isn’t far from here, just head there, i–” you scream when an unnaturally strong hand clamps around your wrist.

you hear sam shout your name as you’re whirled around to face the creepy man from the bar. you try to pull away, but his skin is like adhesive, literally. you can feel your skin sticking to his like there’s super glue leaking from his pores.

“sam, please,” you sob out before the phone is ripped out of your hand and tossed aside. the man, or creature, or whatever bares his teeth in your face.

“it’s too late, sweetheart. all that hunter’s gonna find of you is your liver in the water. but you already know that, don’t you? hmm? how’d you know what i am?” he snarls, tugging you closer to him and smirking.

you don’t answer, just growl in frustration and struggle helplessly against him. “let me go!” you demand through tears.

“‘fraid that’s not an option, lass.” he smirks, then he’s yanking you behind him, pressing you into his back and in horror, you realize that his shape is changing right against you until you’re stuck to the back of a tall, dark horse, high above the ground. you let out a strangled scream and desperately struggle to get off. but, just as the folklore tells it, his sleek coat is impossibly sticky, as the lake must be close enough for him to smell its waters.

the horse leaps into a gallop, and another yelp is pulled from your lips from the speed he takes off at. panic rips through you and you grip the hair of the horse’s mane to keep your upper body from being yanked backwards. in a small moment of clear thinking, you keep your other hand from touching the horse. indeed, even his mane is adhesive, and you’re now stuck with just a single free hand. 

the streets and buildings are a complete blur to you with the combination of such speed and the tears in your eyes. all you can tell is when the town fades into the forest, and you’re being torn at by harsh, unforgiving tree branches. at this point, you know that begging or screaming is useless. so, you let tears be ripped from your eyes and pulled into the air by the wind rippling past you, and silently beg to whatever entity may be listening that sam gets to you on time.

suddenly, you’ve torn past the trees and straight into the shallow waters of the lake, and your hope fades. in seconds, your feet dip into the cold shock of water, and you think of how you never imagined your life would end this way. mostly because you didn’t think that shape-shifting killer horse-men were real, but here you are.

as your helplessness increases, you remember the silver necklace around your neck. it’s small, mostly likely inconsequential, but you still yank it off of your neck and press it against the neck of the large animal. it rears up, whinnying in pain, and you would’ve fallen and likely cracked your head open if you weren’t stuck to the creature’s back.

the silver clearly burns, but it’s too small to keep the large creature from completing its mission. it’s hungry. 

as your knees dip under the cold water, you hear the rumble of an old engine, then glance back just in time to see a tall, broad silhouette against the car’s bright headlights, running towards you as your waist, then chest are pulled under. 

it’s sam, and he yells your name as he splashes into the dark water. you choke out his name, then gulp in a full breath as the water reaches your chin, then swallows you up whole. it’s coldest against your head, suffocating and heavy and horrifying.

you don’t stop struggling when you’re submerged, hoping maybe the adhesive wears up under water. of course, you’re not so lucky, but your struggle seems to slow down the horse as it dives deeper into the water. there’s a long, torturous moment that passes where you’re positive that sam will be too late; your lungs already burn and you don’t think it’ll take too long for you to be drowned and eaten by something that probably shouldn’t exist.

but, your hopelessness is interrupted when the dulled light of his flashlight hits you, just as it begins to flicker and fail from being under water. then, his long arm is reaching out, grabbing hold of the horses mane to tug himself closer. the horse attempts to kick him away, but sam is able to sink a long dagger blade into the horse’s neck. a shudder passes through the monster, then it stills, and your immediately begin to float away from it. it’s magical properties fail as it dies, dark blood oozing out into the water. 

in a haze, you notice the water tainted with blood is warmer. it’s darkness and the way it seeps through the water reminds you of the ink of a squid. in a split second, sam’s strong arm wraps around your waist as his flashlight dies and the darkness in your vision isn’t just from the loss of light, but the loss of consciousness too. 

you do your best to cling to your awareness and sam’s broad shoulders, but you go limp in his arms just a few heavy moments before he breaks the surface, gasping and struggling a bit from holding both you and the dagger.

dean is right there to help sam, knee deep in the water. he quickly takes a hold of you and carries you to the edge of the water where he lays you down on your back. sam drops to his knees right beside you, and immediately, his hands are cupping your face, one hand slapping your cheek gently to see if you’ll wake up on your own before he starts cpr.

dean’s about to shove sam out of the way to do it himself, given that he’s far less exhausted, when your eyes fly open and you cough violently, your lungs doing their best to expel the unwelcome water from your lungs. 

even soaked in cold water, sam’s hands are still steady as he turns you to your side and pats your back to be sure that you don’t choke. you can’t really make out what he’s saying, but his voice is comforting as you gasp and sputter, your hands grasping at his for something solid to take hold of. 

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you’re safe now, i got you.” sam reassures, voice soft and steady. he pulls you up and into his chest as your coughing becomes less laden with lake water and more so with tears. it crosses your mind that you hate to be seen so uncomposed and vulnerable, choking a little on your own sobs, shaking from cold and residual fear, and sort of unable to speak after your whole entire view of the world has been grabbed hold of by some other force and tilted to a whole new angle. but you let sam hold you anyways; his broad frame, large set of hands, and hushed voice are so grounding that you wouldn’t dare move away.

you’re vaguely aware of someone else shrugging a warm, dry jacket over your shoulders, and sam is quick to readjust and pull it tight around you. and with that, your head tucked into his neck and your arms wrapped around his middle, you finally begin to calm down. your breathing evens to match the pace of his hand rubbing up and down your back and you shudder against him one last time before you shift to put a palm on the ground and take responsibility for some of your own body weight. you’re still leaning against him, because you’re not sure you could hold yourself up on your own, but you want it to be known that you’re regaining your composure.

the first words that you mean to say to sam are thank you, but the moment you open your mouth, you catch sight of something glinting in the moonlight just a foot or two away. so instead of the gratitude you mean to express, the words, “is that my dirk?” tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. sam winces guiltily underneath you and in an instant, you’re stumbling to correct yourself.

“oh god, that’s not what i meant to say, i’m so sorry. that is so horribly ungrateful of me,” your voice shakes from the chattering of your teeth as you look at him with total regret. “i was trying to say ‘thank you’ and i got distracted and i said that instead, but i didn’t mean it that way, i was just… confused.” you don’t even catch the way that sam smiles at you, all soft and endeared. 

and in reality, you are worried about the state of your priceless knife. you truly mean that you’re sorry for saying that instead of thank you first, but you still scramble away from sam in order to get the knife in your own hands.

the blade has mostly been washed up by the waters of the lake, but there’s residue of a dark, sticky substance that makes you cringe. but, with a sigh of relief, you realize that there’s no further damage to the artifact and carefully clean it with the still dripping wet fabric of your shirt.

behind you, someone’s laughing and it’s not sam. you finally fully register the presence of another person. you look up to see another man, pretty like sam, but with an amused smirk on his features.

“sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. “thank you, both of you. for, you know, saving my sorry ass.”

“of course,” comes sam’s sincere voice, “i’m just glad we got here in time. i’m sorry this happened. and for stealing your dirk.” you look over at him with an embarrassed, shaky smile. he points to the other man with his chin and you return your gaze to him. “that’s my brother, dean.” dean holds up his hand in a sort of greeting and you nod back.

“let’s get you two dried off,” dean says, voice still a little amused. “where can we drop you?” he asks kindly, stepping towards you and holding out a hand to help you up. you take his hand, still dripping the dagger in your other, and he hoists you up. as you’re still finding your footing, you feel sam by your side, then his big hand on the small of your back keeping you steady.

“thanks,” you murmur to the both of them. sam smiles at you, and dean lets your hand go, knowing that sam will be plenty pleased and anxious to be the one to lead you to the car. he managed to annoy sam into admitting that he asked you out on a date within minutes after he got back to the motel from the museum. sam had been trying not to be too smiley. he absolutely had been all smiley.

now, sam’s not smiling. he’s worried and completely guilt-ridden because he’s managed to see the sweet, awkward, and at ease you, and then a version of you that’s limp in his arms. as he ushers your shaking form into the back of the impala, he wonders if he should call it off. tell you he can’t make it to a date, that there’s a new case and he has to leave right away. not call you back. it’s nowhere near his fault that the each-uisge got to you, and yet, he knows that proximity to him means danger. that’s the last thing that he wants for you, even if he thinks he might want you.

and yet, you shiver and gingerly clutch onto your 16th century scottish dirk in the back seat of his brother’s car and when he glances back at you, you have the audacity to send him an adorable, lopsided little smile. you’ve just found out that monsters are real and nearly drowned at one’s hands and you have the audacity to smile at him? smile at him like you’re just fine when you’re so cold he can see you shivering through the rearview mirror and he feels like it’s his fault? and you look like you feel awkward, like you think smiling at him is the most normal thing you can think to do, and it makes him like you very much.

you’re irresistible, and he’d really like to be able to resist you, for your own sake.

“so,” when you start to speak, your voice trembles a little, just because of the way your teeth chatter. sam’s cold too, but it seems to be affecting you more. “hot, homicidal horse-man shapeshifters from scottish folklore are real,” you state, sounding an odd mix of afraid, confused, and very curious. you lean forward and lean against the seats in front of you. “is there… more?”

sam turns his head to look at you, his face full of regret. “yeah,” he says, sighing. “pretty much anything supernatural you can think of. from werewolves, vampires, and ghosts to djinn, each-uisge.”

“oh,” you ponder, “that’s… insane,” you settle on. sam nods in agreement.

dean lets out a huff of laughter. “you got that right. sounds like you’re handling it pretty okay, though,” he commends you.

you shrug, then admit, “i’m actually… trying not to be excited right now because i almost just died from that shit, but… it’s– sort of, kind of, just a little bit cool to me. to know that it’s all real, not that there’s dangerous creatures out there killing people. very not cool,” you nod at your own words awkwardly, trying to be honest about how you feel without sounding insensitive. “and you two… what? go around and save people from them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“yep,” dean chimes, “we’re hunters. we find monsters and gank ‘em for a living. not that it pays.”

“huh. hunters… that must… suck,” you conclude, then try to backtrack, “not– not that i’m saying it’s not important or– or that your lives suck, or– or… yeah.”

“no, no, it’s okay,” sam assures you, “it kind of does suck. a lot, sometimes, but we… we help people, and it’s worth it.” he wants you to think it sucks. he wants you to hate it and he wants you to think it’s too dangerous and awful that you don’t even want to be associated with him. and at the same time, he wants you to think that he helps, that he thinks it’s worth it because he can’t lie about that either. and he already knows, from the way you’re taking things, you won’t think of it as any reason not to be at least alright with him. god, sam’s got no idea what the hell to think, or what the hell to want.

“yeah,” you nod, “yeah, that’s– that’s good of you two.” you sort of wondered before if all this might change how you feel about going on a date with sam. when you think about it now, it doesn’t. it doesn’t change a thing. you still think he’s delightful. “so… where are you two staying? the bed and breakfast?”

“uh, no, we’re staying in the motel just outta town,” sam answers.

“in that shithole?” you raise your eyebrows skeptically. “gosh, i hear there’s never any hot water.”

“damn straight,” confirms dean with a humorless chuckle. “but we’ve had worse. at least this the water gets lukewarm.” sam shoots dean a look that neither of you catch, and the next words that you say are the reason for it.

“well, you two should come shower in my apartment, then,” you don’t seem to realize that’s a little bit suggestive, but neither could care less. it’s clearly just a kind offer. “it’s always hot and the water pressure is pretty much perfect. and sam, if you’re anywhere near as cold as i am, you definitely need a hot shower.”

“no, no, we shouldn’t,” sam refutes, voice kind and regretful in a way he hadn’t meant to show. “we don’t want to intrude after all the shit from tonight.”

you swallow, wondering if you can convince him to stay without admitting that you’re still scared. but you figure that might be the only way. after saving your life he seems to feel guilty, and you can’t understand why. “you wouldn’t be intruding, i promise. you… you really need a hot shower.”

“i’ll be alright,” he assures you, adding, “i’ve had much worse,” for good measure. he needs you to know that it’s dangerous to know him.

you sigh and sit back, leaning into the leather seat. “would you… would you mind, you know, staying with me a little longer?” you let a little bit of vulnerability seep into your voice; you don’t want to say the words i’m still scared, but you do want to give sam a reason to stay that he’ll actually take.

he glances back at you, and it’s too dark to see the look on his face; still guilty, but soft, warm, and understanding.

“no, no, i wouldn’t mind,” he says, voice extra gentle. you let out a relieved breath, glad that he understood your message. the rest of the car ride is quiet aside from your instructions guiding dean to your apartment. he pulls to the side of the road in front of your building. sam gets out first, opening your door for you and hovering his big palm over your head as you step out of the small car. you thank him quietly with a soft smile. he heads to the trunk to grab a spare change of dry clothes and you pull the big brown leather jacket off of your shoulders. you assume it to be dean’s, so you open the passenger’s side door and hand it to him.

“thank you, dean. you, um, if you want, you’re welcome to take a hot shower here, too,” you offer, noting the way he doesn’t actually park the car or step out himself. 

“that’s alright, sweetheart,” he grins, “i’ll leave you and sammy alone.” his tone is definitely suggestive, and he winks at you. you sputter for a second, then clear your throat awkwardly.

“i, um, sure! sounds good,” you squeak out, quickly retreating from the car and shutting the door. it’s very quiet, but you think you hear dean laughing a little. you try not to look completely embarrassed when sam approaches you.

“dean say he’s not coming?” he asks. 

you shake your head. “uh, n-no he said he’s fine.”

sam raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything about the way you seem much more flustered than you were just moments ago. he’s sure than dean made some inappropriate comment, and he’ll apologize for it later. 

“he say he’d wait here?” he asks instead. the last thing he wants is for dean to have inadvertently invited sam over for the night.

“um, no, i-i figured that he’d- that you’d…” you swallow thickly, unsure how to proceed. then dean shifts the car into drive and begins to pull back into the street.

“dean, wait!” sam calls after him, certainly loud enough to hear. sam is ignored, and the gorgeous black car just rumbles down the street. “god, i’m sorry about him. i’ll call him to pick me up.” he looks at you apologetically but you shake your head.

“no, no, it’s okay! i sort of thought that you… you know, might… stay over? only if you’re okay with that, i- it’s okay if you want him to pick you obviously, but… my couch is free and comfortable. probably better than the shitty motel mattresses.” you look at him, eyes both kind and unsure, and he finally remembers that you’re still shivering, even more without dean’s jacket pulled over your shoulders.

“i… if you’re sure. let’s just get inside for now,” he urges, hovering his hand over your shoulder blade as you both turn and walk into the building. you lead the way to your apartment, quiet and soft in your movements. somehow, sam is softer.

inside, he insists that you don’t worry about him, that you head right into the shower because you’re still shivering and it’s got him really quite worried. but you resist, first grabbing him a dry towel and a big fluffy blanket to warm himself up with while he waits in the living room. you tell him where the mugs and the tea can be found, and that the kettle should boil filtered water only. 

“you should make yourself a hot cup of tea,” you say, and tell him that the decaffeinated green genmaicha is your favorite for this time of night if he’d like to make one for you too. sure that he’d feel unuseful just sitting on the couch, you give him something to do.

when you step into the shower, you expect to be soothed. you expect your shoulders to relax and your limbs to stop shuddering and your teeth to quit chattering. it’s true that the bone deep chill begins to fade, and you stop fearing hypothermia. but you are not near soothed or relaxed. it’s not horrible because of the heat, the light, and the familiar surroundings. but the water on your skin is not as welcome as you’d wished. it’s not cold enough or suffocating enough to pull you back down into the lake with the sticky flesh-eating horse, but it’s not pleasant at all. 

you wash up quickly, then step out, dry off, and get dressed even quicker. you cover yourself in the sort of clothing fit for the middle of winter when you’ve been snowed in. fleece pajama pants, a cotton, crew neck long-sleeved shirt, and a sweatshirt to top it all off with. you don’t forget thick socks or the fuzzy blanket from your bed.

you find sam in your living room, a cup of tea on the coffee table and another in his hands as he stands with the green towel you gave him before wrapped over his shoulders.

“why aren’t you sitting?” you ask, perturbed by the idea that he’s been standing this whole time.

“i… didn’t want to get your furniture wet,” he explains, almost sheepishly. you shake your head at him, half amused by the lengths he goes to be gentlemanly. 

“that’s sweet, but unnecessary. i wouldn’t have minded,” you say softly. “anyway, the shower’s all yours. take as long as you like.”

he sets his mug down and gathers up his change of clothes before heading towards the bathroom.

“and there’s a fresh towel on the counter! don’t use that green one,” you call after him lightly, wanting to be sure he won’t reuse the already damp one.

“okay,” he calls back, and he’s turned away so you don’t see the soft smile on his lips. you settle into one end of your couch, curled up with the blanket wrapped tight around your body for warmth and comfort. no matter how much you wish you weren’t, you’re still shaken from everything, especially after the feeling of water on your skin again. you reach for the mug on the table, it’s ceramic material warm on your hands, but no longer too hot to hold. it’s a soothing feeling, along with the hot, earthy tea that slides down your throat and into your stomach when you take a long drag of the drink.

all you do is sit there, drinking tea and wondering when sam will be done. you told him to take as long he wanted, but the sight of him is comforting, and you hope he’s done soon.

he looks refreshed and relaxed when he emerges from the bathroom. he sits in the chair across from you with a grateful smile.

“thank you,” he says, voice quite lovely and sincere, “it’s been a while since i’ve had such a nice shower.” to you, he wasn’t gone too long, but for him, it was special and an absolute privilege to have a hot shower last that long. and your bathroom isn’t that nice by any stretch, but it certainly beats anything he can find in a motel. it’s homier, warmer, and familiar only because it suits you. honestly, he had trouble getting the courage to turn off the shower head; it was just too pleasant. but he didn’t want to wrack up your water bill, so he gave himself an extra minute before stepping out and getting redressed.

and now you’re telling him about how easy of a favor it was, and that he’s welcome to that sort of thing anytime. he’s so unsure of how to proceed, so conflicted, that you’re the one to bring it up. 

“so… are you still, y’know, um, interested? in going out to lunch, that is,” you ask hopefully, clumsily.

oh god. he doesn’t think he has the strength to say no, to disappoint you, to ruin this chance with you. but it’s dangerous for you and that’s the last thing he wants. yet, he’s not sure he could ever bear the face you might make if he makes some lame excuse to blow you off. and it would all be a total lie. he is interested, maybe more than just that. he goddamn wants it. 

“i am. of course i am.” he’s more relieved than scared when he says that, so he feels like it must be right. and he hates the idea that you’d even doubt his interest in you. if anyone has the right to be second guessing a date, it’s you. he’s honestly a little surprised you’d still want this. surprised, and beyond flattered. “i… don’t know how long i’ll be in town, but i’ll of course be here tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

you grin widely. “yeah, yeah that’s perfect.” your expression shifts and you look at him carefully. “and… after that? i don’t mean to jump ahead or anything and i… i know you’ll be… traveling, but it sort of seems like sometimes, you know, maybe, i could possibly… help you out? if you ever need information on weapons and lore and that sort of thing… you could, y'know, call me? i… i’d love to help, at the very least.” hopeful and clumsy. that seems to be the theme of the night for your words. 

sam’s gaze, no, his whole form softens. he loves the way you talk and he finds it sort of crazy that he’s met you only this afternoon. for a moment he thinks he’s surprised by your offer to help, but when he considers it for a moment, he’s really not. it fits you; your warmth, kindness, passion, and intelligence. he’s still scared about involving you with him at all, even more scared about involving you in hunting directly, even if you just help with information. 

yet somehow, your offer eases him. it’s a thought you’ve had all on your own, something you say you’d actually like to be able to do. he supposes he should just be honest with you.

 “i’ll call you. not just for help,” he begins, nodding to assure you that he wants that, and more. he’s so torn. torn between caving and just diving into this chance that he has or walking away and most likely saving you a whole lot of grief. and yet, it absolutely wouldn’t be fair to not give you a choice, so that’s exactly what he’ll do. “but… you… are you sure about this?” he asks with a heavy sigh, eyes careful and sincere as he examines your expression, your curled up form indicating you might still be feeling shaken.

“it’s not pleasant. people die,” he says, frank, but still gentle in tone. “dean and i, we could die. and you being involved… it makes things dangerous for you. even if you’re not out there, physically in the fight, it… it’s dangerous to be associated with us. with me. i don’t want that for you, but i… i would like to get to know you better, i know that much. and i know that it’s your choice, not mine. if helping is what you really want to do… i’m sure that you could save lives. we… could use your help. just… you can back out at any time. you can back out right now, if that’s what you want.”

he’s grateful that you really take a long moment to consider what he says. your eyes roam over his face, taking in the details of his expression, his sincerity, all of the changes in tone that you can pick up on. you think about it, you really do.

“let’s get to know each other,” you decide, voice soft. as you go on, you sound both unsure, like you’re still finding your footing, and determined, like you’re sure you’ll be steady eventually. “i’d really like that… as for the rest… for the monsters and all that, i… i’d still like to help. or at least try. if… if it’s too much, or feels dangerous, then i can… i can figure out what to do then. but if i could help save lives? i… i can’t just ignore that. i don’t want to ignore that. i do really appreciate that you’re, you know, worried about my safety, it– it’s very sweet, i just– i know that i want this.” you say the last bit definitively, like you’ve been building up to it, convincing yourself of it and now you really believe it. 

sam’s relieved. he shouldn’t be, but he is. he wanted that answer, no matter his worries. he nods simply, giving you a soft smile. “okay. thank you.”

you smile back, thinking it’s sweet that he thanks you for offering your help, and maybe for something else too.

“my, uh, my lunch break is only half an hour,” you state, shifting the conversation just a little bit. “and i– i get if you’re tired, but we could… start now. you know, the getting to know each other part,” you offer, voice a little quiet and unsure again. you’re a bit clumsy and awkward when it comes to… well, most everything, but especially this sort of thing. you’re not even sure exactly what this is supposed to be. flirting? dating? or maybe it’s just as simple as that; getting to know each other. sam’s not perfect at this either, but he can certainly step into the more confident role for you. he wants you to feel at ease.

“yeah,” he says softly. “i’m not too tired. i don’t want to keep you up late, though. tonight was… tiring, i’m sure, and you have work in the morning.”

goodness, he’s so caring and considerate that it almost hurts. you fight back a yawn, trying not to prove his point as you think about waking to your alarm clock tomorrow morning. you don’t want to go to bed yet, and you don’t want to miss out on whatever time you have to talk with him.

“well… maybe i can call off. even just for the morning. i’ve got plenty of paid time off saved up,” you suggest, glad for this idea. you’re positive that you deserve to miss a little bit of work after what you just went through.

if you were offering just for him, sam would shake his head, insist that you don’t have to. but he considers that not having to worry about work in the morning and being able to sleep in would likely be very good for you. 

“if that’s what you want, it makes sense,” he says, smiling softly.

“okay,” you smile back, “i’ll email my boss, it’ll only take a minute. she’ll see it in the morning.” your computer’s in your room, so you leave sam to his own devices for just a moment. in the hallway on the way back, you speak up so he can hear you as you approach. “would you like to watch a movie? you might be right that i’m a little too tired to stay up talking, but i… don’t quite want to go to bed.” your voice quiets once you’re back in the small living room. frankly, the idea of being alone in your room, of laying down with nothing to do but think or sleep, frightens you.

his face softens like he can read your fear. “that sounds perfect to me.” you relax at his constant sweetness and subtle encouragements. 

“perfect,” you smile. “you’ll… have to get up so i can move that chair out of the way. you can sit on the couch, though.” he stands and moves the chair away from the tv for you, then sits on the other end of the couch. you snuggle into your own corner after picking a dvd. turns out that sam has seen and loves your favorite movie. 

turns out that he’s also a little too respectful and careful to get very close to you as you watch, but he doesn’t mind when you grow sleepy and stretch your legs a little more over the cushions. you don’t ask; you’re a little embarrassed, so he tells you it’s alright if you rest your feet against his thigh. and he doesn’t know where to put his hand after that, so you tell him that he can rest it on your calf. he does, and just that is infinitely comforting.

and turns out that, halfway through the movie, when you fall into a soft, quiet sleep, the only thing that sam’s worried about anymore is if he should let you just sleep there or carry you to your own bed. he doesn’t care if he has to sleep curled up in the corner of the couch or that chair or on the goddamn floor; he just doesn’t want to wake you.

[oikasugayama]

Hihihi! Can I please please please request BSD men with an older fem! s/o? Especially Dazai, Kunikida, Sigma and Fyodor but feel free to add more! I have this very distinct convo in my head that I can’t stop thinking abt and it goes smth like this:

~

*Dazai doing his usual women flirting, holding your hand and staring up at you with sparkling doe eyes and rosy cheeks*

Reader: “Oh, I’m truly flattered, darling, but it’s just that a boy like yourself…you’re just a bit too young for me.”

Dazai: “Young? Well, my dear belladonna, I don’t under-“

Reader: “I’m 43, honey.”

*He is visibly surprised, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape and eyes widening before he recovers, a charming smile slipping on once more.*

Dazai: “Well then, ma’am, I must say that you aged like a fine wine because you don’t look a day over twenty-one! I know that I’m probably inexperienced compared to you, but at least give me a chance to prove myself!”

~

Idk man, I just need BSD men with an older woman, who is mature and elegant and maternal and experienced.

i cringe so hard every time someone writes dazai saying b****d**** to his partner 🤢 sorry anon, it had to be said.

Dazai's is smutty, Kunikida's is fluffy.

Dazai likes the mature look, he likes the well-developed body, he likes the attitude and casual confidence that comes with an older woman. a hint of gray at the edge of a woman's bangs makes him start the chase. he looooves gentle aging on the face, thinks mature women are so beautiful.

he definitely chases them for short relationships, nothing serious. he'd like to take them out, spend some time being a young little shit and flirting his balls off, only to turn into putty in the older woman's hands when she suggests he come back to her place, because he's so young and must have a roommate, so they'd have more privacy at her place ;)

he tires to take the lead, but he usually inevitably lets the older woman tell him what to do because he wants to do exactly what she wants. of course the woman is usually pleased to know such a good looking younger man is so attracted to her, and of course she wants that hot man on top of her, but with her age comes experience and she's gonna make sure they both have an excellent time when he gives her the reins.

dazai likes the most when his partner takes her shirt and bra off and her boobs lower and naturally hang. he likes playing with them, sucking on them, especially when the woman runs her hand through his hair and holds him. if he has a complex because he didn't know his mother, no he doesn't. don't talk about it. while in this position one woman says to him "drink up baby, don't you like mommy's titties?" and it makes his dick throbbbbb.

from then on he realizes he likes calling women mommy in bed more than he likes being called daddy. he wants a hot mommy to play with, he wants to get pussy drunk, thrusting desperately and rapidly, chanting/moaning "mommy, mommy, mommy," while she tells him he's a good boy and he can cum in her pussy whenever he's ready.

Meanwhile, Kunikida...

His ideal woman is older than him. obviously he gives up most of his ideals after his coworkers make fun of it and tell him it's unrealistic and honestly kind of disrespectful to women, but one thing he knows for sure: he just prefers older women. he thinks they're beautiful, he loves how intelligent and experienced they are, he loves when they give him advice on things they've experienced already that he's only going through for the first time, he loves how confident they are, he loves that they're independent, he honestly can't think of a thing he doesn't find appealing about an older woman.

when he's ready to date, he specifically approaches mature looking women. he gets to know several, dates around for a short while, but relatively soon he finds The One. She's beautiful, she's intelligent and kind, she's independent but enjoys having his company.

They get serious quickly and within a year they've decided to move in together to save on costs, so he moves into her home. he enjoys waking up to her and having another presence in his home. it's very comforting and something he missed after moving out of his family home and into the ADA dorm.

he's SO proud walking around town holding his partner's hand. he isnt very fond of PDA and it isn't the most acceptable thing, but a simple hand-hold is enough to show that they're partners in a fairly subtle way.

kunikida isn't ashamed at all if/when someone asks if they're related rather than dating; he always very politely says they're partners and deflects any further conversation.

he will NOT take shit from his coworkers about his partner. he tells them off so harshly the first time they try that even dazai doesn't make jokes about the age difference anymore, unless he's drunk like at the ADA holiday party when he called kunikida's partner a MILF right to her face, making her toss her head back and laugh. she didn't mind, so kunikida let it slide.

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Helloo

Ur nefero fics are soo good😙 Could you write something like maybe how much he worships reader?? Thank uu<3

Great minds think alike bestie I'd love to write this sooo here we go!

__________________________________________

Male Nefera x fem! Reader

Prompt: Nefero but he's just worshiping you

She her pronouns

Fluff/kissing/female worship/

Image not mine found in pinterest

(I'm obsessed this is literally how he sees you full goddes)

__________________________________________

Nefero looks at you with adoring eyes as you talked about the book you had just finished,eyes lit up,hands moving all around for emphasis on a specific part of the story that you said in I quote "was the most unrealistic thing ever" you keep talking/rambling off to your boyfriend at your table in the (just them since he liked days where it was just the two of you).

[Name] let out a frustrated sigh as she finished speaking "like it's totally crazy right Nefie?" You stopped waiting for his response "yes very" he nodded his head hoping you'd continue talking till your heart's content "thank you ugh, you get me" then she continued for the remaining lunch time while taking breaks to actually eat.

"Is there something on my face?" [Name] asked, quickly getting out a small mirror "No your fine, my jewel excuse my rudeness" he sets down the mirror from your hands and took it; placing it back in your purse "oh well that's okay, I love when you stare though please tell me i have nothing on my face next time haha" the ghoul looked away sheepishly "it's always nice to know you still look at me that way really" she said earnestly "I'll always admire your beautiful self,all day if you asked me too" Nefero took her hand in his smiling wide "hehe you got smile lines Nefie" "WHAT?!"

In their class Nefero is yet again looking at [Name] with heart shaped pupils in his purple eyes, he watched as you reapplied your lip gloss "so you like this color on me?" You turn your head to him and pointed at the lip gloss bottle and then your lips ``it looks absolutely Divine on you my queen" he told you sincerely

The two walk out of school the day had finished and now it was time to get you home "are you gonna stay home with me? I'm making dinner today" you asked your boyfriend looking at his hands intertwined "of course my jewel but I need to go home and change first" [Name] looked at him perplexed "but I have some of your clothes at my house, why not shower and change there?" She tilted her head "my jewel you only have my shirts not pants or shorts" he teased

"Ohhh haha right" she looked to the side "maybe I should steal your pants so you won't have to go and change" "What?" [Name] looked at him "Well if I have some of your clothes other than shirts you won't have to be apart from me! Plus we could shower together, did you know that can save our water bill" you tried to play it off with some "statistics"

Nefero held your face in his hands smirking at you;making your face feel hot"My dear we can do that anytime you wish no need for an excuse" he leaned in and kissed your lips gently,you hummed through the kiss then separated making Nefero pout "oh stop you big baby let's get going so you can change quickly at your house and take me to mine" "but don't you have to start dinner?"

"Nah my parents won't be home till late I have time" you explain " now come on I wanna choose your outfit" taking his hand [Name] dragged him to his limo

_________________________________

[Name] is seen in her kitchen cooking up a meat stew and some rice she wears a "kiss the cook" apron which happens a lot when Nefero is around so she thought why not buy it

She hums along the song on the radio as she puts in a some herbs in the stew and then stirred it thoroughly

Nefero is at the stool of the kitchen island sipping at the strawberry smoothies he made for the both of you with your blender "it smells incredible my jewel" he compliments, [Name] turns around with a smile "would you like to try the stew?" He eagerly nods anything you make was bound to be heavenly he felt so lucky he gets to try it first "Alright here" your bring a soup spoon to his lips and he opens his mouth and swallowing the the liquid gold, it was savory and spicy the meat was tender and with the potatoes, corn, and carrots made all the better.

"Ahhh that is absolutely exquisite" he looks into your eyes with a smile as he leans forward making a move to kiss you and you obliged "muaw!" You gave him a quick kiss dramatically sounding it, he immediately pouted "I want an actually kiss" you sighed and go around towering over him seductively "oh really?" He nodded again

"Alright only cause you asked" you lean down grabbing his collar and pulled him into a deep kiss, he opened his mouth and let you in, moaning as you dominated his tongue then you let him go "there" you panted " *deep exhale* thank you my queen" Nefero wraps his arms on your hip and leans his head onto your stomach while he's still sitting down.

[Name] ruffles his hair up giggling at his cuteness "of course my king" you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you said you had to check on the food which he whined but let you go

He can't help the way your presence makes him feel giddy with excitement, the smell of your sweet perfume, holding you in his embrace, bodies squished together, hearing your heartbeat as he rests his head on your chest at night.

"You look absolutely gorgeous" he said all of a sudden at the dinner table as you ate in comfortable silence "really?" Nefero nodded "you do and I just can't help saying it, in fact it's my duty to tell you any time I see fit, which to be frank is all the time" [Name] looked at him bewildered as if this was a new thing

Yet it wasn't but still it warmed your heart he still looked at you that way for a moment you didn't say anything then with a smile you responded "thank you, my love it means alot that you still admire me like this" she admitted "my queen" he held her hand "I cannot fathom a second in my life where I don't worship your entire being, it's in my nature to do so, for only you"

He lifted her hand and kissed it then continued up until he was met only inches away from her face, looking at her eyes [Name]'s breath hitch then Nefero kissed her cheek gently "would you let me worship you tonight my queen" he said above a whisper "well..." she looked at the clock "they won't be here in about another 6 hours..." she thought about it then looked at him patiently waiting 'why not' [Name] got up and dragged him by the sleeves and up to her bedroom "Let's see how much worship I can get you to say, that suddenly it sounds like a prayer~"

____________________________________________

I feel conflicted with this one, I like the way I wrote it but idk if it truly captured the promt but I feel like this is better than what I write previously

I tried my best but head empty no thoughts I guess, still hope you like it maybe I'm just having imposter syndrome

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Shiver Me Timbers! (18+)

pairing: pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader

genre: fantasy au, smut, pure smut with a fair amount of plot imo (MNDI pls), a little angst at the end

description: as seungcheol's ship drags up the shore, you watch from afar, eyes on the prize

warnings: PIRATE DIRTY TALK HELP, SLIGHT DUBCON bc hes u know a little under her spell, unrealistic ass transformation from fish 2 person, desperation, big dumb whiny cheol, bottom!cheol, kinda switch!reader, teasing, tiddie play, tiddie sucking, fairly graphic character death (drowning), seungcheol fucks yn like a ragdoll hihi, hes still bottom here tho, yn just has her tiddies OUT #progressive #2023

quotes from my proofreader: "I WAS WET!!", "he is soooo silly and sexy"

wordcount: 3.0k

“Anchor comin’ down!” 

“Aye!” 

There’s a mighty splash when the rusty anchor collides with the surface of the water. The chain clinks as it plummets, until it’s kicking up a storm on the sandy seafloor and the ship is safely secured. The Barbaric Seventeen is rocking like a mother rocks her young, gently swinging from the onslaught of waves from the North. 

“Another safe map-navigation performed by the great Woozi!” Seungcheol speaks from where he’s perched on the head of the ship, one knee bent to sit his foot atop the wooden railing. He’s half bathed in sunlight, hot from the scorching sun over the endless sea. The shipmates clap and cheer, the odd clunk joining the cacophony from the members with missing hands. “Now go!” he commands, “Go find me my treasure, boys! It shan’t be much of a challenge for ye’s anyway!” 

“Ye’s not comin’, Captain?” Mingyu calls from where the lot of them are crowding the planked deck, eyes squinted to stare at his silhouette in the sun. Seungcheol’s hat rustles as he shakes his head. “Naye, brother Mingyu. Today I will guard the Barbaric Seventeen,” he answers and pats the wooden railing like a dog.

The crewmates bugger off, one large group padding along the coast with their hooks and their scars and their swords in their belts. 

“Don’t be tempted by pretty ladies out here, brother Jun!” Seokmin advises, gloomily. “There be sirens in these waters!” 

“Don’t scare the kid, brother Seokmin,” Wonwoo snaps, standing on the other side of Jun, who looks at the two of them, lost and a little scared. “Sirens aren’t real.” 

“Tell that to Jeremy!” Seokmin retorts, “RIP.” And then their voices are fading into the distance.

Seungcheol hardly notices their conversation, as he’s placed himself on a gathering of finely-churned sand, squinting into the sun-lit sea from the shadow of his Captain’s hat. His jacket, much too warm for the every beating rays above, has been discarded beside him, and now his chest peeks through a thin, muddied white shirt. Forever enchanted by the gentle breathing, the rise and fall of the sea, he’s quick to see you. 

At first it’s simply a diamond-glisten under the surface of the water - Seungcheol knew the shine of gems, knew the way they reflected and captured the light - he half-sits up, biceps flexing as he peers in. Then, he catches the movement of something long and blue and scaly. The coasting water kisses his bare feet. 

You’re smiling in the water, long, flowing hair like seaweed in the ever-turning tides. You’d spotted the ship miles back, and had followed discreetly under it. Now there’s a man alone on the shore, and you’re splashing your tail teasingly above the surface of the water, soft, rhythmic taps, beckoning him closer. Then you open your mouth and begin to sing.

Seungcheol’s stumbling to his knees, crawling on the sand. There’s a beautiful, intoxicating hum coming from the seafloor and he must, he must hear it for himself. Crawling until the water is reaching his chest, you finally strike. 

Your head bursts from the water, splashing salty liquid onto the man, who’s gaping at the soft tunes from your ruby lips. You’re pushing your sopping hair back, eyes falling on him, sitting back on his knees now. You giggle, humming gently, when you lean into him. His eyes catch a diamond around your neck - the one he’d seen under the sloping water.

You’re the most beautiful woman - woman? - he’s even seen, and your chest is bare and glistening wet in the sunlight, and your cheeks are red and eyes sly. You’re leaning into him, hand brushing over his sculpted chest, poorly hidden from the soaked shirt, and you smell like the sea - you smell like home. 

“Hi there,” you giggle, biting your lip at him. He’s so befuddled by you, he lets out a strangled moan at just the sight of you, before he’s recollecting himself.

“Hi,” he breathes, awestruck. He’s almost cute, you think, hip jutting into the wet sand beneath you. His eyes - unfortunately - sway downwards to your tail, and his eyebrows are furrowing. Wait a minute, he thinks, was this not what Seokmin was just talking about? “What are ye’s?” he asks, because something in his body is oozing fear, filling him like water cascades into a drowning man, and the spell is broken. 

For an instant. 

You see it immediately, the way the adoration leaves his eyes, and something reminiscent of disgust overtakes him at your fishy parts. Thinking fast, you grab his bigger hand in your own and press it to your chest. “Oh,” he breathes, flushing, and he’s looking at your chest, and the way it expands when you heave a breath to sing for him. 

A song flows from your lungs and dances in circles around Seungcheol’s head. He can’t even remember what he was thinking about before, just feels his dick harden in his pants. Dazed and confused, the only thing grounding him is his hand, frozen on your chest and covered by your own. You smile, because he’s opening up to you like the shell of a clam.

“I’m a mermaid, silly. Don’t you want to touch me?” you whisper teasingly, emphasizing by shaking your chest and letting your tits jiggle right in front of him. He whimpers and nods, and you eye the hard-on in his lap, big and stretching the fabric of the pants to their limit. You look around, eyes catching the rock-quarry at the end of the beach, but seeing no one nearby. Then, you clumsily stretch yourself from your heavy, heavy tail, hand fondling him through the fabric. “You gotta pull me up,” you command, voice strained from the movement, and humid breath hitting his lips. He’s hissing and bucking into your hand, unable to comprehend your request.

“What?” he whines, panting and looking at your lips. Your tail is heavy as an anchor when on land, and the position is killing your back, so squeeze his chin between your fingers and grit your teeth at him. “Pull me onto land.” 

He’s nodding dumbly and without even an ounce of effort, he grabs you by your waist and pushes the two of you onto dry sand. You’re immediately covered in a salve of small sand particles and moaning, really moaning, because this man is so big and strong, but so dumb, he had no trouble lifting you all the way onto land. 

As soon as you’re out of the water, the diamond around your neck is glowing, turning hot against your collarbones, and Seungcheol is groaning, squeezing his eyes shut and holding a hand to shield himself from its intensity. 

It stops, he sees the back of his eyelids darken and peeks open one eye, unable to help the little gasp that escapes him. You’re lying on your stomach in front of him and your tail is gone, replaced with soft human legs. Without a thought, he reaches over to touch the skin of your slippery wet new legs. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression, when his hand glides up from your thigh and squeezes your ass. 

“You like it?” you chirp, and he chuckles breathlessly. “Aye.” 

You push at him, crawling into his lap, all naked and soft and ready for him, hands on his chest, soothing the muscles. “That’s why we needed to be on land, silly.” You smile at him, sitting completely still in his lap, where your pussy is pressed into his crotch, and you’re nonchalantly, he feels foolish for being so beet-faced and nervous. “Well?” you begin, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “take off your clothes, dumbo!” 

At your whim, he’s scrambling underneath you, shirt practically ripping, as he tears it off. His chest is so, so pretty - pale and defined and expanding into your hands. You watch him struggle with a fond smile, as you sit completely still on his crotch, even when he’s pulling his pants off. Your weight makes it damn near impossible to shimmy off. He doesn’t dare tell you to move though. Seungcheol feels like the luckiest man in the world, because your pussy is leaking onto his pants. Miraculously, he escapes the garments, and he looks up at you with a proud grin, as if he’d passed some sort of test.

���You did so well,” you coo, hand caressing his cheek and eyes shining in adoration when he nuzzles into your hand. Then your gaze drops. His cock is fucking huge and fucking red and pouring precum from the tip, oozing like blood from wound. “Let me reward you,” you whisper, satisfied when he whines and nods.

You press your thighs into his, hard, so he’s spreading his legs, a sprawled out starfish on a quarry-rock. You see his stomach tense at that, and he’s groaning. “Please, please, please.” 

“Y/n. Grab my boobs.”

His hands find your tits immediately at your request, thumbs pressing into the areolas.

“Please, please, please, Y/n!” he’s yelling because it’s torture, and he’s throwing his head back to call out to God. But you’re the mightiest being present, and you push yourself up to teasingly run his cock through your folds, over and over, humming to the melody of your sticky pussy kissing his cock. “Please,” he cries. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, rubbing yourself carelessly against his achingly hard cock. “I kind of like just this? Don’t you like this?” 

“In, in, in!” he’s sobbing, arms flexing where they’re stretched out to hold your soft mounds, clinging to them for dear life. “Oh,” your voice is laced with fake sympathy, “Oh, you want in?” 

“Please,” he gasps. You shrug in compliance, “Okay.” 

Finally you pause your grinding, stopping his cock at once when you feel it, the sticky head of it creating tension at your slit. You sink down. Then you stop. The head of his cock is nuzzled in your warmth  and you’re flexing your thighs to keep yourself on top of him. 

“No, no, no!” he cries, bucking his hips upwards and shaking from the frustration, when your hand pushes his abdomen down. You pout: “I thought this was what you wanted? Are you not in?” 

Usually, you can get away with fucking around with men in this manner, but it seems this time you’ve thoroughly miscalculated: In what felt like a split second, Seungcheol sits upright and removes his hands from your chest, anchoring them on your hips and bouncing you.

He’s pushing you down on his cock, and this time you’re the one crying out, utterly taken aback when, with seemingly no effort at all, he lifts your entire body weight and slams you down again. 

He’s grunting and panting, completely enchanted by your body and your pretty moans. He grunts at the way your perfect pussy chokes his cock. You’re no better. You’ve lost all control of the situation, slipping into a cockdrunk haze and crying out again and again at the way his tip kisses your cervix. 

“Beautiful, such a pretty girl, aye? Squeezin’ me cock so tight,” he grunts, and all you can do is cry, burying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it feebly. “Mhm, ye better treat me nice next time? Hmm?” His voice is deep and baritone against the shell of your ear. 

Your clit is like the x’ed out treasure on one of Seungcheol’s maps, when he snakes his hand down your soft body to rub it in messy circles. “Prettiest moans me ever heard. Say me name, sweetcheeks, say Seungcheol,” he commands and you can only comply, orgasm fizzing in your stomach at his constant onslaught. 

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol!” you chant as you cum, cunt squeezing his cock like you were trying to kill him. The image of your scrunched up, blissed out face and your pussy creaming on his shaft, has he himself cumming inside you, painting your walls with cum, white like seafoam. He’s rutting into you for a few last pumps, and crying into the valley of your breasts. Despite the sun burning into the skin of your back, you’re certain you see stars. 

You’re breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together as you recover and smelling the stench of salt and vigor. Seungcheol is still enchanted by you, your beauty, your voice, and he’s trying to capture your lips in a kiss, when you snap your head, almost startled, and peering out to a quarry of rocks at the end of the beach. Seungcheol is still feigning for your lips, thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, when he asks you: “Are ye okay? Ye hear sumthin?” 

“No,” you breathed, hesitantly ripping your eyes from the rock. You smile at him, and he leans in and you let him, but only for a peck. You’re pulling away, even when he chases your lips and whines. You giggle, suddenly slipping his dick out of you and laughing even harder when he bends over from the sensitivity. 

“Come back, Y/n,” he cries softly and you’re falling standing up in the sand, just in front of the water, beautiful and stark naked and glowing in the sun. “You come to me,” you tease, but without hesitation Seungcheol scrambles to his feet to follow after you. He stops when he’s standing right in front of you again, eyes big and soulful and full of so much love for you. “I’m here,” he announces in a whisper.

“Come with me into the sea, Seungcheol,” you pout and bite your lip at him. “I can’t be here.” 

“But-” 

“No! It’s not safe up here. I have to go back in the water,” you make big eyes and run a hand up his big, muscular arm. “But you can come with.. My necklace can turn you into a mermaid, too..”

“Really?” he whispers, grabbing your hands and squeezing tight, simply overjoyed. He’s too dazed from his orgasm to realize what you’re asking him to leave behind. All he wants is you. You intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Yeah,” you take a step back into the white foaming water, and once again your necklace begins glowing, so intense that Seungcheol once more has to close his eyes. 

When they open again you’re lying in the water, still mostly out of it, and your bottom half is gone, replaced by the glittering scaly tail he saw before. You were so plump, so pretty, the way your tits bunched up in the sand.

“Help me, Seungcheol, push me into the water again,” you request weakly, arms flexing as you try to unstuck yourself from the sand that grabs at your heavy tail. “When will you turn me into a mermaid?” he asks innocently, leaning down to help drag you, still stark naked and pale body glowing in the sun. “Just- just when I’m back in the water,” you mewl, strained.

When you stop feeling the seafloor drag against your sensitive tail, you tug Seungcheol to you harshly. He falls next to you, panicked. “H-Hey!” 

He’s only gone under the surface for a moment, before he bops his head over the water, black hair sticking to his forehead. Spitting out the salty liquid, pouting. “That was mean,” he complains, treading in the shallow water. You giggle, thriving in the cool slick of the sea, having missed the way the water hugs you, how it caresses and kisses and loves. That was why you needed to pay it back. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you pout. “C’mere. Let me make it up to you.”

Seungcheol paddles himself into you and you hold him into your chest, his nose and eyelashes prodding softly at your skin. You sigh when he begins licking at the smooth skin, hands pawing your waist. 

“It’s such a shame,” you frown, looking at how pretty he is, as his plump, pink lips mouth at your nipple, lashes long and pretty over his downturned eyes. He hums questioningly, not stopping his ministrations on your chest. One moment you’re gently pulling the wetted dark locks behind his ear; the next you’re fastening your arms around him, and kicking your tail.

You’re underwater. Seungcheol flinches at the initial movement, then begins thrashing in your arms, when he registers that you’re underwater. You’re ignoring how painful, how strong his hands are when he punches and wriggles in your hold, only swimming deeper, deeper, deeper. The sunlight above, fragmented from the waves surface of the water becomes sparser. 

He’s even paler in the dark. You see him perfectly clear, tugging and kicking. Maybe there’s even a small hope in his chest - a hope, that this is just a little joke, and that just a moment from now, you’ll grab him by the hand and pull him back to the surface. That moment doesn’t come. Everytime he tries to push himself up, your hand is there to keep him down. 

It feels like forever, and it’s more painful than any other time you’ve done it. He’s humming groans from the lack of air and when he finally gives out to gasp for air, he chokes out the most haunting noise you’ve ever heard, bubbles trailing up from his newly-dead corpse. Finally he’s still against your chest. You pull him away with a deep frown and see his face, fully relaxed now and drained of color. You hold onto him by his shoulders, hoping to memorize his face, hoping to remember him. 

Then you’re releasing him and he floats downwards, hair dragging upwards, almost as if reaching for you. 

He’s just another rock in the sand, you try to tell yourself, as his body is cast away to the deepest, darkest quarters of the ocean. But it doesn’t feel that way. As you swim away, humming your siren song and reverberating in the dark, bottomless depths, you can’t help but feel that this time, your victim was not just a sandcorn; he was a bright, shining pearl. 

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 17

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

TRAILER 1

TRAILER 2

TRAILER 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

FIRST CHAPTER:

When I wake up, as this morning, there is someone watching me.

Since I fell asleep, I don't know how much time has passed, but I guess he's Sunghoon and the torture is about to begin, again.

However, looking closely at him.... no, he's not Sunghoon.

Is Jungwon.

And I am naked on his bed.

I feel even more shame for what I did, not only while I was in Sunghoon's company, on his bed.... I try to cover myself with the sheet, but I'm sitting on it, he looks at me and laughs.

"No, noona. Don't cover yourself - he says, joking almost, then looks at me - I won't touch you, just let me watch."

K.O. Amanda.

No, let's reason. I'm not comfortable while he's squaring me with those seemingly innocent little eyes, but... Does Sunghoon know he's here? He might not take the news that he wants to look at me naked.

Not that I worry about him, though.

"Of course you're beautiful, eh, noona?" He asks me.

I blush, not knowing what to say.

"All right - he sighs, moving away and taking the t-shirt that Sunghoon threw on the floor, handing it to me. - Better not look too much, or I'll want to touch."

I swallow, what is he thinking? No, after all, the whole situation is unrealistic, what precisely am I surprised about?

"You found the door locked, how did you get in?"

"I have a spare key."

"W-Why?"

Jungwon shrugs, turning a naive expression on me. "Because this is my room." He smiles.

Just after I put my shirt back on, which tightens slightly on my wide hips, the door opens. It is Sunghoon, and he is pale, looking at me, then at the leader.

"I told you-"

"I was curious- the boy smiles again, slyly anticipating him. - I was right to be curious."

Soon after, behind Sunghoon's back, Heeseung also appears, looking at me worriedly. "Are you okay?"

The middle man among the three snorts annoyedly, approaching me and grabbing me by the wrist. "Let's go."

"Don't go anywhere. - Heeseung stops him. - Why is she here? - Then he turns to me. - Why aren't you wearing anything?"

"N-Nothing happened, n-nothing!" I say, spontaneously, perhaps a little too much.

Sunghoon looks at me, not angry, not offended, he is.... apparently disappointed? And why should he be? And why am I sorry? Why am I sad about this?

"Do you believe her? - Sunghoon laughs nervously. - Look at her, could you say we haven't fucked?"

We all see it as Heeseung's confused and alert expression turns into pure anger as he goes at him and tries to hit him in the face, luckily Jungwon gets in the way and Heeseung doesn't even try to hit him, the leader.

"What did you expect? You left her here." Sunghoon keeps talking, unnerving him.

"Don't you get grossed out? - Heeseung asks him. - Your girlfriend left ten minutes ago."

This time is Sunghoon's expression that twists his calm and proud face. He's the one trying to hit Heeseung, I really don't understand what's going on.

Jungwon also freezes, laughing, but it's scary.

"Why don't you end it?" He asks calmly.

"This story, ends here. - Heeseung says, turning to Sunghoon, who looks into his eyes. - Amanda is no longer a host as of today."

Jungwon looks at him guinamously curious. "What?"

"I will pay the debt." He says.

What?

It's as if the world has stopped, I can't see or hear anything anymore, I'm sure I'm in some kind of dissociation... Heeseung is sincere? Me... does Lee Heeseung like me?

"I don't think you can. - Laughs Sunghoon, sticking his hands in his pockets. - But try, you'll be the pathetic son of a bitch who paid the bitch's debt."

What? What what what?

It's like he just shot me. The burning, the pain I feel in the middle of my chest is real, or maybe I'm just having a fatal heart attack, which wouldn't even be bad.

I mean, Heeseung... he stuck his neck out for me, but Sunghoon reminds him that this is nonsense.

"That's enough, you really are a piece of shit." Jungwon speaks, turning toward Sunghoon.

My eyes are filled with tears, perhaps that is what I deserve for having come this far. I turn away, to hide the tears, but there is no point, I should just walk away.

"Amanda..." Heeseung calls to me, approaching.

"You're freaking out over this bitch, huh?" Jungwon asks him seriously.

"Yes fucking, I'm going crazy. - Sunghoon replies, raising his voice. - This asshole let me fuck her! He was so unsure of what he wanted that it came to this, and I.... am butchering my relationship, my fucking reputation for her, despite knowing that if Heeseung pays the debt, she will be forever and exclusively loyal to him. - He talks so much that I am forced to turn away, he notices and looks at me, then smiles annoyed, wistful. - Do you think he wants your freedom? He just wants to trap you between guilt and your fucking natural inclination to be a slut."

"And you! What you want?!" I shout, because otherwise I would have to hit him again but this time with a blunt object.

He ignores me, looks at Heeseung, who, however, while remaining silent, has become gloomy in the face, his pink bangs barely masking his serious gaze that sends me shivers.

"What do you think will happen when Lee Heeseung pays the debt for her? She'll be sent so far away that you'll never see her again, like all the fucking important people we have! - Sunghoon laughs, out loud. - What, don't you know better too?"

"Don't talk like you know me. - Heeseung replies softly, walking toward him. - I know what I'm doing. Know that I don't give a shit what you do from now, stay away from her."

"Do we want to take it to the lawyer? - Still laughing Sunghoon, I am incredulous, how can he be such an asshole? - This is still my turn."

Jungwon is not careful enough to prevent Heeseung from hitting Sunghoon right in the face, to the point that while his lip is bleeding he looks at the major in disbelief.

"You were lucky, because I was good, because deep down I thought you were just a horny kid - says Heeseung smiling, but he is by no means cheerful, on the contrary he looks very creepy. - I would allow the whole world to fuck her, outside of you."

"Fuck hyung, not in the face! And anyway, are we going to continue talking in these terms? - Jungwon asks, visibly unnerved but still smiling. - Do we also want to pick her up and put he on a piece of furniture like an object?"

The two turn confusedly toward the leader, and to be honest, so do I.

"I can't stand these psychodramas anymore, from now on neither of you will be with Amanda noona. - Explain, politician. - It will be easier to integrate my turn."

It's a bit comical how the two simultaneously get him by the collar, I don't know what to say, I feel like I'm in a demential drama directed by a drug-addicted director.

"I'm kidding, but shall we talk about it over there? - He asks. - Honestly, noona I think this is too much. Sunghoon, fucking apologize."

Sunghoon hits Heeseung in the face when the leader is distracted, Heeseung staggers but a second later runs into him and the two of them fight, literally, to the point of falling.

Am I shaken, confused, smug? What kind of person am I?

"Oh my god, this isn't really happening." Jungwon complains, but he does not intervene.

I cling to Won's arm and he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "We have to stop them!"

"Why don't you just fucking let it go!? - Shouts Heeseung, who is literally straddling him. - And apologize to Jake, no matter what goes on in that fucking head, you should just apologize!"

It makes more sense now, actually. All this, I mean.

"I have nothing to apologize for, are you friends with Jaeyun now?"

"No, I'm a piece of shit and deserve to be alone - heeseung replies, laughing sarcastically. - But after all you've been through? Don't you really want to apologize?"

"So touched." Jungwon whispers to me amused.

I'm not sure if I should laugh in such a situation, but I don't deny that his joke is funny.

"Yes hyung, to be honest - Sunghoon smiles, looking serious, - I don't think I owe him any apologies."

Heeseung tries to hit him again, but Jungwon manages to block his wrist. "That's enough now, seriously. I'll call Jongseong hyung, he makes you both cry."

"Hyung, no one likes you." Hoon smiles, his lips bleeding.

I can just see the blank, lost expression of Heeseung who can't even respond. This...must hurt him a lot.

"Imagine if I have to agree with Yeonjun.... but really, don't you fly too high? You're worth as much as everyone else. - He says, amused. - Be honest, am I not right?" He asks Won.

"You are not everyone. - Jungwon answers. - And I like you both anyway, when you're normal. You haven't recovered since February, have you?"

Heeseung gets up, not wanting to waste any more time on him, but walks over to me. He does not look me in the eye but simply takes my wrist to drag me out.

"Speaking of Yeonjun... do you know she was having lunch with him yesterday? Soobin was there too."

Heeseung pauses, saying nothing but clearly surprised by this, perhaps thinking I should have told him. "Oh yeah?"

"Are you ready to do anything for someone who doesn't even tell you these things? - He laughs. - Who knows what they did..."

"The important thing is that you weren't there." Answers only, Heeseung, dragging me out, however I am blocked unsuspectingly by Jungwon, who shakes his head displeased.

"No kidding, let's wait for Jongseong hyung and work out a solution. We all want Amanda, so.... you should just resign yourselves. She's a pretty girl you'll be working with for a while, both of you get over it and move on. Okay?"

The two do not respond, simply make eye contact, then Heeseung turns to me.

"You won't say anything?"

I lower my gaze, guiltily. "D-Do you think that.. it's possible?"

Sunghoon turns to me. "You idiot, don-"

"Won't you apologize?" Jungwon asks, pulling me to him and causing Heeseung to lose his grip, who lets me slip behind the leader's broad, masculine shoulders.

"Don't... I'm already humiliating myself far too much for her! - Sunghoon raises his voice. - I..."

"She prefers Heeseung, it's obvious." Won replies, I look at him surprised but he doesn't notice.

Sunghoon looks really hurt but I really can't believe he is.... he is the worst of assholes though...I just can't forget what he said just now.

I'm trying to forget it but I can't.

"For that reason - Jungwon says, looking at the older man - you can either choose to let it go, just have fun, or have Amanda sent away, she would probably end up in some other band, right? - He smiles, he's right. - You can't pay her debt. Will they believe that all of a sudden she found the money? They probably know her family history well, and they certainly keep our bank accounts in check. They would see such an amount moving out of your account and at the very least send it to Siberia, with TXTs."

Heeseung remains silent, and this thing... it's obvious that it hurts me but I don't want to show that I really believed it, I would just look like a fool.

I don't know if Heeseung is serious, if he meant it, or if he just wanted to annoy Sunghoon.... however...

"Jungwon, she can't be our host anymore. Do you understand that?" Heeseung asks, serious.

Sunghoon strangely nods. "That's right."

"Ridiculous - Jungwon smiles. - Let's talk about it over there. Wait here, noona."

NEXT CHAPTERS:

hello! haven't updated from long time, don't even have anything to say but im back, that's all