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captain-huggy-bear · 20 days ago

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The Teacher's Always Right

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Your students badger you about your relationship status and you let slip you're dating a hockey player who plays for the Vancouver Canucks. They don't believe you, you're petty enough to arrange a school trip to Rogers Arena just to prove your point.

Notes: Very self-indulgent of me as someone who teaches teenagers for a living and regularly gets questioned on my relationship status. They really do bully you (affectionately).

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You're in the middle of teaching your high schoolers about the fur trade in colonial Canada, mid-speech, arms spread wide as you gesture to your powerpoint when a teenage voice interrupts you.

"Miss, are you married?" It's David, sat at the back, legs stretched out as far as he can reach them. He's ironically enough wearing a Canucks jersey, specifically Number 43...a very, very familiar number to you. As is the question. In your years of teaching this isn't the first time you've been interrupted to be questioned on your relationship status, in fact it happens multiple times a year. Each set of students eager to know why you're a miss and if you'll be a mrs soon and are going to be leaving them to have a baby. When you were single, the questions were usually why?

"No." You've gotten rather good at deflecting or at least not letting slip the reality of your relationship, usually finding out you're not single is enough for them, but there's something about David's attitude that screams persistant curiosity. It makes you wonder why you bother teaching your subject at all when he's more curious about your love life than History itself

"Do you have boyfriend?"

"Yes, does this have anything to do with British colonisation or the fur trade or....?" You lean back on your desk, board pen landing gently on the surface, knowing that you're not going to be free of this conversation for at least another 2 minutes.

"What's your boyfriend do?" You breathe a deep sigh and look around the room, you don't want to get into who your boyfriend is. It's not like its a well known fact that you're dating the captain of the Vancouver Canucks and you try to keep it that way. Not because you're ashamed but because its your private life, school and home, those are as separate as you can make them. It would be impossible to do that if everyone was talking about your relationship, although you know eventually it'll become more public.

Stacy from one of the desk by the windows chimes in this time, curiosity peaked, dragging her away from her current hobby of staring out the window in boredom, "C'mon, miss, it can't be that bad? What? Is he like unemployed or something?" She says while chewing loudly on a wad of gum.

"Gum in the bin, Stacy." Her chewing stops and she slumps as she stomps her way to your classroom bin, spitting the gum in with a roll of her eyes.

"So? Is he unemployed?" You decide to answer the question, only because Stacy actually did what you said this time. You hated gum in the classroom, mostly because it always ended up on the bottom of your shoes and made them stick to the floor as you walked. You wouldn't mind it so much if they could all just throw it away normally.

"No. He's got a job, a good job." A really good job, a ridiculously good job actually. You didn't talk money with Quinn much, but the reality was that he made an amount in a year that you would never make in a life time as a teacher.

"Sooo???" David interjects, leaning forward now in his seat, clearly not happy enough to just know your boyfriend isn't some unemployed bum.

"He's a hockey player."

"Like beer league?"

"No. Like NHL." You watch your classes faces in what feels like slow motion, the series of disbelieving looks, wide eyes and raised eyebrows that are quickly followed by a chorus of objections and claims that you can't be telling the truth.

"Nah, no way! You're not here, teaching us, and dating a guy who makes millions, nah." It's actually frustrating, it shouldn't be. You've literally had students throw tables at you and yet, the idea that they think you are a liar is what makes you frustrated. Is it really that hard to believe that you enjoy your job and don't want to scrounge off of your pro-athlete boyfriend? Or that hard to believe that you managed to snag a pro-athlete in the first place?

"You don't believe me?"

"Nah, like if you are, he's gotta be in some really bad team in the US." You're already formulating a plan to prove to your students that you're not lying and not dating a shit NHL player. Sure, the plan involves a lot more work for you, but the idea is in your head and you can't help but think that it'll be worth it.

"He's a Canuck." You smirk a little, knowing the mention of the local team would get a response. Most of the kids you teach go to at least one game a year or watch it on TV. Some have even seen you at the games, but you always sit in the stands like a regular fan. Mostly because Quinn can't really talk to you anyway when he's locked into a game. You'd serve as more of a distraction if you sat front and centre every game.

"No, no way!" David stands, slamming his hands on his desk, "You're lying!" Half the class echo his claims that you must be lying and it makes you even more determined to prove them wrong. Do you really need to prove to a bunch of teenagers that you're dating an NHL player? No, do you want to? Absolutely.

"Fine, don't believe me, but i'm not lying. I'm dating a Vancouver Canuck."

It takes a little to get them all back on track with the lesson but you manage it. Although you're just as distracted. The moment the bell goes to signal lunch break and your classroom empties, you're on your phone calling your boyfriend, even though you know he's probably in the middle of practice.

He answers on the second ring, the sound of the rink in the background loud and clear as pucks hit the sideboards and skates scratch up the ice.

"Hey, baby, everything okay?" It's unusual for you to call him in the work day and you can hear the worry in his voice, even if he'll pretend he's not worried at seeing your name pop up when you should be working.

"Hey, I'm fine, don't worry...but...you know how you love me?" You fiddle with a little wooden bear that sits on your desk. Quinn bought you it after finding out your favourite animals were any type of bear, it's left ear is broken off and it's got a little bit of red paint where it fell on a floor one time, but you love it anyway.

"Uh huh?" The worry in his voice gives out to amusement at realising you're after something. On his end Quinn is stood at the bench watching the guys run drills, Tocc giving him a look as if to say 'hurry up'.

"And you know how you want to always make me happy?" He smiles at the faux innocent voice you put on, as if he'd deny you anything.

"What do you need me to do, baby?" There's zero hesitation, typical Quinn really, if you want something you've got it, if you need him to do something he's agreeing before all the terms are laid out. He's lucky you don't abuse that sort of power really, he'd spoil you completely if you let him.

"I need you to help me organise a school trip to see you guys practice and meet you all, so that I can prove to my students that I am actually dating an NHL player because they're calling me a liar and I will not be called a liar by teenagers who gaslight me all the time!" The faux innocent voice gives way to your rapid ramble, annoyance riding your tone as you pace across the front of your classroom.

You're greeted firstly by his loud and genuine laugh, so loud that it makes you pull the phone away from your ear. It takes a solid minute for Quinn to stop laughing, and he can see the looks he's getting from the ice, Brock throws him a questioning eyebrow raise, Petey perks his head up at the sound of his captain actually laughing that hard.

It's the dead silence on your end that makes him stop, "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes! They're telling me i'm lying and I will not be called a liar!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight." He runs a hand through his hair, before leaning against the side of the bench, "Your students don't believe you're dating a canuck, so you need me to help you organise a school trip-"

"For free!" You interrupt, knowing you won't get permission for a trip that costs the school anything more than a few buses and fuel costs, school funding being what it is.

"For free, to prove that you're dating me?" There are easier ways, Quinn thinks, to prove this. Like, him posting a picture of you together on the internet or him kissing you in front of the arena at a game, but it's kind of cute how much you're affronted by your students calling you a liar. It also sounds way more fun.

"Yup, is that...is that too much to ask? I'm being silly aren't I?" He hears it in your tone, the way you seem to start second guessing yourself, can hear you tapping a fingernail against your desk, probably messing with the little bear figurine he got you all those years ago.

"A little silly, but for you? I think I can pull some strings, honey."

You know Quinn will say yes to most things you ask, but you hadn't actually expected him to agree this time. It had felt too big, too much. Your normal requests were small, something like asking if he could get you a doughnut on his way home or could he put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, i'm serious." It takes a beat before your almost squealing in delight down the phone at him, the realisation that he's actually saying yes hitting and he can't help but laugh even as he pulls the phone away from his ear.

"I love you! Have I told you that today?" Your voice is sweet and happy, brighter than it was before. It makes him want to always say yes to you, the way you light up like a christmas tree.

"Mmm, not since 6am this morning."

"Well, I love you and you are the absolute best boyfriend I've ever had and I will never take you for granted."

He can see Tocc motioning him over, telling him without words that its time for the call to end and get back to being captain. Part of him just wants to keep talking with you, rare as it is to get to do during a working day, but he has responsibilities just like you do.

"I have to go, baby, I have practice...but we'll talk about this later, okay?"

He knows his evening is going to be spent planning out what you want this trip to look like before he goes away and tries to make it happen, but he doesn't mind. Anything to make his baby happy. Even if that is trying to prove a bunch of teenagers wrong.

Between the two of you it takes about 2 months to organise the trip. A lot of that time simply spent getting risk assessments done, approval from your administration sorted and organising parental consent. It also takes you getting the sports teacher on side because it was becoming difficult to find a justification as a History teacher for why you wanted to take kids to meet some hockey players. By the time you've organised it, most of your students have forgotten your claims. You have not forgotten their belief that you are a liar, however.

"I can't believe you managed to get us a trip to Rogers Arena! To meet the Canucks! Best teacher ever!" The hockey boys in your class are especially stoked, many of them playing in junior teams and following the Canucks closely as their team of choice. David is no exception to that rule, arriving to the school bus in so many bits of Vancouver merchandise that you're unsure how he's managing to walk weighed down as he is.

"I told you, my boyfriend plays for them." You remind him, ticking him off the register of kids and ushering him up into the bus.

"Miss, we all know that's not true." He turns to you just as he's about to dispear to find his seat. The scepticism written all over his face.

It makes you shake your head, waiting for the moment the puck drops.

The entire ride to the stadium features your students making fun of you for saying your boyfriend was a canuck, you let it slide simply because you're looking forward to seeing them eat their words. They think its funny right now, but you know you're getting the last and final laugh.

You're met at the entrance by, surprisingly, Tocc, who greets you with a warm hug, "Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm good, thank you for having us, Tocc." You like Tocc, he's a good coach and you like that he cares about how the guys are as people not just how they perform. You also can see how much Quinn appreciates him as coach, so you have a soft spot for the scary looking guy.

"No problem," You can feel the weight of 50 eyes on you, all varying shades of disbelief as they realise you seem a little too familiar when interacting with the Head Coach and its only the beginning. You can't help but smile simply because they're starting to realise that maybe they fucked up. Maybe their doubt was misplaced, maybe you actually were telling the truth all along.

"Are Quinn and the guys on the rink or in the locker room?"

"Rink, easier to fit all the kids, but we've got to get them booted up first." The famililarity with which you refer to Quinn and the guys, does not go past David and Stacy both of whom share a look that screams 'don't tell me that she actually knows them...'.

It takes a bit of time to get all 50 kids in skates, although at least 20 of them bring their own, as do you. You're not much of a skater, but dating Quinn meant you couldn't avoid him buying you a decent pair for family skate and the few times he manages to drag you on the ice each year.

You're about to put your own on when Quinn makes his way over to you clearly having just come off the ice, guards on his skates and hair messy from his helmet. He waves briefly at some of the kids before reaching you, taking your skates in hand without hesitation.

"Y'know I can do it myself, right?"

"When have I ever let you do your own skates? Besides, I thought you wanted the last laugh?" He nods his head in the direction of your students who stand gaping at the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks putting your foot in a skate and putting said skate between his thighs to help him tighten the laces with care. Not something one does for a strange teacher they don't know.

"I'm really enjoying myself already. The whole ride they were giving me all sorts of hell about it, and now I can see their little brains working hard to figure out if I was actually telling the truth or not."

You watch Quinn work, finishing tying off your first skate before reaching for the other, his hands are sure on your calf as he slips your foot into it. "The guys are looking forward to it, think this might be their favourite practice of the year. You might be their favourite WAG now."

"All I had to do was bring a bunch of teenagers to the rink to get them to love me?" Quinn stops mid lace pull, smirk firmly in place as he looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.

"Y'know they loved you already, right? Pretty sure Petey is your number one fan."

"That's because I bribe him with sweets." Specifically his favourite sour candy which makes his eyes water. The more sour the better.

Quinn huffs out a laugh, tying off your laces before patting your foot and setting it back on the ground. His hands reach out to help you to your feet and linger on yours a little longer than is strictly necessary.

"You ready for this?"

"Can't back out now, so I guess I have to be." There's a slight bubbling of nerves under your skin, the sense that your students might not think this is cool and instead think that you're undeserving of your relationship, but you shrug it off. After all, they're kids, their opinion on your relationship is genuinely not important.

"See you on the rink?"

"See you there." You watch him walk away and try to ignore the buzz of chatter you can hear from students, commenting on the fact that Quinn did your skates for you.

You get them registered, orderly and help them file onto the rink, the less sure of the bunch buddied up with someone who had more experience skating to avoid 50 kids bowling each other over on the ice. You did not want to deal with a pile of kids flat on the ice after knocking each other over, the paper work would be ridiculous.

You stand back and just watch. The clear awe on their faces as they step out onto the ice, the large rink impressive any day let alone for kids who had never stepped foot on a rink that size. It makes you smile, knowing you're contributing to their memories, providing something great even if it all started out of petty spite. Even if they don't believe you, you feel good knowing they're getting to enjoy this experience.

You skate nearer to the front, Brock and Petey giving you a bright smile and wave, a variety of nods of recognition from the others. Little things that once again tell your students you know these men better than they expected you to.

"Hey, guys. Welcome to Rogers Arena, it's great to have you here," Quinn starts the introduction, smoothly sliding forward on his skates and gesturing to the line of players as he proceeds to introduce each them by name and position, before finally getting to himself, "And i'm Quinn Hughes, Captain of the team,"

"And Norris trophy winner" You chime in, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend do what he's best at. He's good with fans especially kids, even if he's terrible with the after game reporters.

He turns to you with a bright grin, "Hi, baby," You can see the twinkle in his eye as he drops the petname, you know he does it on purpose to get the reaction that he does from your students as a wave of muttering and murmuring goes through the little crowd.

"Hi, honey, thanks for having us." You throw it right back, more sickly sweet than you'd usually be, playing up to your little audience who practically gasp.

"Anything for my girl."

"No fucking way!" "What the hell?!" You watch each face drop, mouths open, eyes wide. Watch David as he swears loudly face aghast, almost horrified at the realisation that he might have been making fun of Quinn Hughes' girlfriend the entire time he'd been calling his teacher a liar.

"Language, David!" You tell him off even as you smirk, watching the murmurs die off as Quinn and Boeser talk the kids through skating techniques and how best to shoot the puck, the different techniques and ways to hit the puck with the stick. Half of it makes little sense to you but its nice to watch how the kids get engaged, how Quinn takes over a leadership and teaching role.

You mostly take a step back throughout, watching your students learn from Quinn and the guys, but every now and then Quinn finds you under the pretense of fixing your stance or giving you a tip or piece of advice.

Like now, as his hands reach out, fixing how you hold the hockey stick, foot kicking yours just slightly further apart to adjust your stance.

"So, think they believe you now?" You look over at your students, the joy they're having learning hockey from some of the best, but also at the looks they keep sending your way. You're certain they've learnt their lesson, the teacher is always right, at least when it comes to her own love life.

"I think I am offically the coolest teacher in school, so thanks for that." You reach up and kiss Quinn on the cheek, quick and chaste, nothing inappropriate considering you're both at work and surrounded by kids, but it's enough to make his cheeks flush red.

He rubs the back of his neck with that boyish smile of his and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, "Well, I couldn't have a bunch of teenagers calling my girlfriend a liar."

You're so stuck in the moment with him that you don't notice David and his friends until they're upon you and calling out to Quinn. The picture of respect when talking to who might just be their new favourite NHL star.

"Hey, Mr Hughes?" Conveniently half the kids surrounding you are the ones who claimed you must have been dating some beer league level player or some guy from the Chicago Blackhawks.

"You can call me Quinn, Mr Hughes is my dad. What's up, dude?"

"So when are we going to be calling teach Mrs Hughes?" It's your turn to flush, face warming harshly as Quinn's practically asked when he's proposing to you by a spotty 15 year old.

"David!" You might never be able to call your future child David at this rate, far too familiar with calling the name in admonishment. Definitely no David's in your future. Add that name to the list of names you can't use.

David looks at you with a wide grin, braces on full display. "What? I'm tryin' a help you get that bank!" It's actually mortifying, you thank your lucky stars that Quinn knows you're not actually after his money because if a 15 year old were to ruin your relationship you might actually become a super villain.

"I do not need a 15 year old wingman!"

"Baby, it's alright." Quinn wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side as if that will sooth the embarrassment of having a 15 year old try to help you get a rich husband, "Uh, to answer your question, it won't be too long now, bud."

"So, like 6 months? A year? Next week?"

"Oh my god..." You turn your face into Quinn's shoulder, your groan muffled by his jersey. You're certain you might actually pass away from embarrassment, even if deep down there's a little thrill in your stomach that Quinn basically just said he's going to propose to you sooner rather than later.

"I gotta keep it a secret, sorry, man! Gotta keep Mrs Hughes on her toes." Your toes curl at the way he calls you Mrs Hughes, a small smile on your face hidden by his jersey.

A little back and forth is exchanged before David and his friends decide their bored and skate off towards Boeser who's going over the finer points of 'get to the net' and 'just shoot the puck'.

You mumble into Quinn's shoulder as his hands run up and down your back in soothing strokes, "Are you really ganging up on me with a bunch of teenagers?"

"Hey, I just told you that I want to marry you and you're mad at me?" He's not serious though, grinning as pushes you back to look at him. It's adorable, the pout on your face as you glare up at him for making fun of you. Although, you're always adorable to him, so maybe he's biased,

"Correction, you told a 15 year old that you wanted to marry me."

"Okay, okay, I see the problem." He shakes his head solemnly, hands on your shoulders as he lowers his voice just a touch, "Baby, just so you know I want to marry you."

"Okay."

"Okay?" You watch as he stands, mouth agape at your casual response. You're sure he was expecting you to giggle or squeal, but you're determined to mess with him a little.

"That's...nice to know?" You grin at him even as internally you're screaming because your boyfriend wants to marry you and you definitely want to marry him.

"You're such a fucking nerd."

"You're dating a teacher, that's like my whole thing. I'm a professional nerd."

"Yeah... it's cute. It's why I want to marry you."

"Quinn!" You shove him away with a laugh. Maybe your students won't be embarrassing you anymore, but you think you might have a lifetime of Quinn doing it instead. Somehow that doesn't seem like the worst idea.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes/reader #nhl imagine

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bartxnhood · 6 months ago

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mayberry | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.

warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.

w/c: 1.8k

requests open

not proofread

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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.

tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.

a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.

tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.

that’s why he took such a liking to you.

tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.

till you began chasing with him.

since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.

before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.

“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.

“you think she’ll say yes?”

tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.

tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.

he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.

the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.

“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”

there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.

tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.

“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.

“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.

you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.

there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”

“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”

“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.

you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”

you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”

you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.

the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.

tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.

its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.

“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.

“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.

“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.

lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”

“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.

“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.

tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.

his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.

there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.

the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.

the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.

pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.

“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.

“hold on tight!” you scream.

the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.

tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.

the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.

tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.

tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.

“y/n!” he hollers.

“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.

tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.

he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.

finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.

his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.

as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.

he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.

"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."

you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”

tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”

boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”

tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.

“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.

“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.

his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”

tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.

you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.

you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.

“what?” you look up at him.

and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.

“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.

“i would love to live with you.”

tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.

“now i just needa marry you.”

#bartxnhood writes #bartxnhood asks #tyler owens smut #tyler owens angst #tyler owens fluff #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #twisters fanfic #twisters #kate carter

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flowersforthemachines · 6 days ago

Text

Some facts about Emmrich (and also the Necropolis, Nevarra and other related things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Emmrich:

Family and early life:

“Volkarin” is a commoner’s name. Emmrich’s father was a butcher, and his mother was a cook

When Emmrich was around 5 years old, his neighbours had a pig named Lucy. He was very fond of her, and she’d always let him hug her around his neck

Emmrich grew up poor (clocked by Neve based on the way he always saves his candle stubs, shows up first for meals and never leaves food on his plate)

Emmrich grew up hearing that all dragons were so hostile they had to be slain and is surprised that Taash has found ways to deal with them peacefully

General:

The gold Emmrich’ wears is called “grave-dowry” (or “grave gold”). It’s a Nevarran custom to wear precious objects one would like to take to their grave

Emmrich’s bracelet (not specified which one) was gifted to him on the day he became a full Watcher. The ring with a large stone was the last gift from his father. The skull pin doesn’t have a story, he just likes it

Emmrich isn’t fond of the Nevarran nobility

Emmrich’s shaving cream smells like potash (at least to Taash)

Emmrich uses moss perfume with flowers

Decades ago, Emmrich used to see an Orlesian woman who was an art appraiser

If Emmrich wasn’t a watcher, he would like to be a botanist

Emmrich displays some interest in Ferelden, mentioning that many of its heroes greatly shaped the history. Harding says that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about her homeland

Emmrich doesn't like beer because it's bitter

Emmrich prefers tea (he mentions purchasing a Brynnlaw curled-leaf blend in Nevarra), but he can also drink coffee

Emmrich doesn’t eat meat (seafood and insects included), but he indulges in cheese. It seems to be a Watcher thing - he says that each Watcher must decide what they will and won't take a life for, and meat crosses that line for him

Emmrich likes melons, mushrooms and pineapples. He also enjoyed a plate of fried leeks and potatoes at Halos’s stand in Minrathous

Emmrich always thought he’d get married one day

After a Minrathous merchant sells Emmrich fake charms, he causes him to see skeletal faces on the windows and hear spirits whispering that false goods endanger lives as punishment. Emmrich agrees to stop once Neve tells him that she can convince the merchant to get back to selling linen if the visions cease

On magic and studies:

Some deaths may leave emotional imprints so intense Emmrich may feel them decades later

Emmrich thinks the magic of old Elven artefacts is “rigid”

Emmrich isn’t very good at figuring out Elven artefacts (by his own admission)

Emmrich’s first published work was A Monograph on the Vagaries of Determining a Body's Time of Death

Emmrich is roughly familiar with the dragon anatomy

Emmrich knows a lot about how bodies work (muscle-wise etc.) from the time he performed autopsies

Watchers study the death practices of other cultures. Emmrich knew about Eb-ketarra and the Rivaini traditions even before Taash performs them at the end of their questline

On life in the Necropolis:

When Emmrich fell for another boy during his youth, he showed him a corpse he was allowed to practice dissection on. The date was ruined by a passing wisp possessing the body and causing it to sit up and ruin the mood

Emmrich tutored Dorian during his term in the Necropolis (“Tremendous potential, but appallingly flippant towards the dead”)

Emmrich and other watchers live in the Necropolis (Emmrich has a flat there)

On life at the Lighthouse:

It took 8 skeletons half a day to bring that slab of marble into Emmrich’s room

He didn’t bring his entire collection of books to the Lighthouse (there are more)

Emmrich talks to skulls in his room

Lighthouse kitchen reminds Emmrich of the mortuary

Relationships with companions:

Emmrich offers to introduce Bellara to Audric, the Necropolis librarian (who appeared in Tevinter Nights’ Down Among the Dead Men)

Emmrich calls the Archive spirit a work of art

Emmrich and Davrin disagree on parenting methods. Emmrich thinks Davrin should better discipline Assan and teach him boundaries, while Davrin suggest Emmrich should let Manfred learn more on his own (e.g. let him fall so he learns how to get up)

Emmrich turns to Neve when he needs help acquiring some reagents he can't get his hands through normal ones, and she agrees to help him out (smuggling is involved)

Emmrich isn’t too thrilled about Neve taking over the Threads, questioning of what’s going to become with the organisation and the future and thinking it may become corrupt (sort of mirroring the way Neve is apprehensive about his lichdom)

Taash likes Emmrich’s lich helmet. They are not usually fond of skulls, but that helmet is fine because it’s on fire

Taash thinks that gemstones like amethyst or green opal would look good with the lich helmet

Emmrich doesn’t seem to like unrealistic books as he criticised Harding’s “Gore-Knight” novels for their incorrect interpretation of magic. He is worried about people misunderstanding magic and spirits

Emmrich calls himself Harding's 'de facto physician'

On Manfred:

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Manfred brings Neve tea by his own volition. Emmrich thinks it's because Manfred sensed she might need a friend

Manfred is as aware of his surroundings as most people (to a certain degree)

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred learns to say Emmrich’s name

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred becomes much more talkative

Manfred likes boiling tea because he is fascinated by steam

Emmrich suggests Manfred tries tending to plants in Harding's garden

Manfred is curious about Spite and wanders into Lucanis’s room at night

Spite and Assan miss Manfred if he’s gone

On Lichdom:

Emmrich smells fine to Taash even after he becomes a lich

Emmrich’s lich helmet burns with veilfire. He once tried using it in combat, but the flame ended up blinding him

Emmrich thinks Strife would no longer be interested in a relationship after he becomes a Lich. That doesn't prove to be true

Lich!Emmrich doesn't need to eat but still comes by the kitchen for company

The energy of Emmrich’s magic changed after he became a lich

Other liches call lich!Emmrich “Young Volkarin”

Lich!Emmrich no longer has muscles, but when he tries out Taash’s pull-up routine, he can still feel something like “a spectral memory of flesh”, as if he had pulled a tendon

Emmrich starts seeing more books in the Lighthouse library after becoming a linch

About spirit, demons, and the Necropolis:

There are spirits of Temperance and Diligence

The Watchers avoid using the word “demon” because it creates bad expectations and can negatively influence spirits

Some in the Mourn Watch suspected that elves originated from spirits, though it was just one of many theories, and not a particularly popular one

Chambers in the Necropolis can go missing (according to MW!Rook, they turn up, eventually)

Even after the despair demon is banished from the Necropolis, the halls remain cold. However, the effects will abate with time

There are horses on display in the Necropolis

Watchers rarely get possessed thanks to the special wards of the Necropolis. Possessions also don’t happen as often because the necromancers already provide spirits with bodies, so they don't need to possess anyone by force

Bellara calls the background magic of Necropolis tidy and quiet

There something called “The Deep Necropolis” featuring sections like “The Unspoken Valley” and “The Charnel Bridge” (which has something called “nightmare fog”) that hosts all kinds of entities. Bellara is very excited to visit once the nightmare fog clears

Vorgoth ensures that the transgressions of those who use magical to cruel and abusive means will not be tolerated (whatever that means)

About Nevarra:

Many great Nevarran artefacts have been lost to time, including the Skull of Sabinar, the Key of Dead Dreamers, and the Crown of the Moon

There are strict rules about selling enchantments in Nevarra. You can’t sell anything without a licence and an inspection from the mage Circles

A Tevinter poem “Faustina's Song”, a romantic epic from the Steel Age, is very popular in Nevarra, and its quotes are used on ‘more than one’ epitaph in the Necropolis. Neve is surprised people even read it outside Tevinter

Pineapples don’t grow in Nevarra

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #veilguard spoilers #emmrich volkarin #manfred #neve gallus #taash #lace harding #datv banters #meta #references #flowers.txt #mourn watch

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nichuuu · 24 days ago

Text

From Eden

Jeon Heejin x M reader

(1st instalment of De Selby)

PSA: This shit has not seen the editing board because I'm lazy. Fell off real hard. Sorry gang.

Word count: 10k

You liked to think that your first meeting with her after all those years was a fluke.

As it went for most people who went their separate ways at a point in their lives: there was history between you and Jeon Heejin. It was a little more choppy than you’d like to admit, but it formed the crux of your relationship and you couldn’t just ignore it. She seemed to find no qualms in forgetting what happened between the two of you. And as you caught up with her at a booth seat in some club you guys bumped into each other at, you wondered if you’d overreacted when the two of you had your falling out.

She was possibly kinda bad company for the night – not exactly a face you wanted to see three beers in and ditched by the rest of your friends cause they all got too drunk and found themselves booted from this hellhole. But at the end of the day, they all say that it’s better to be in poor company than to be alone.

***

To whatever gods that were out there, you thanked all of them collectively for the fact that the toilet that she’d dragged you into was empty. You hoped that the cubicle door was enough to keep whatever was happening in the bathroom privy to its occupants. The music that pulsed on outside the bathroom should be enough to cover you right?

Heejin—as usual—had no qualms about skipping past the usual formalities of intimacy. Those deft hands were on your belt faster than you could utter her name, and your cock was in her hand before you even knew it. She was gentle with you, stroking you considerately as she laid a hand on your chest. Those fingers made you tingle from the tip down, pushing you to new levels of pleasure you’d no idea you could experience. They gripped you lightly yet firmly, applying pressure at all the right spots to make your toes curl in your shoes and your muscles tense throughout your body. You could only wonder: did she know what she was doing to you? Or was she just getting really lucky. However sordid this situation was, it felt right to you… and maybe to her as well.

“Jesus Heejin”--your hissing through your teeth. It sounds a little more aggressive than you’d like, but you know she’d have no qualms about it anyway–“you sure know your way around a dick.”

The smirk on her face was snitching on the fact that she definitely knew what she was doing. She leaned in, flushing herself against your chest while she continued to deliver languid strokes to the rock hard meat in her hand. “Thanks… He loves a nice handjob from time to time, though I always imagine myself giving it to you instead of him to get into it..”

You summoned the strength to look into her eyes – really gaze deep into those lustful, beautiful orbs she’d been blessed with. Past the want and need, there was an undeniable look of sincerity she held, a wordless soulful confession to you that she had always fantasised you in place of her ‘lover’. It drove you to push a little further, “and what are you thinking about now that I’m actually the one you’re giving it to?”

Heejin thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had a million and one answers that could express her carnal desires. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her to actually harbour a million and one answers. She was always a wild thinker in many aspects. She was also diligent, and that translated into the way her hand hadn’t stopped moving throughout the eternity (it was shorter than that, but it sure felt like it) she took to produce a congenial answer.

“Now that you’re actually here,” she finally answered, making sure to hit you with a smile that blurred the distinct line between sweet and sultry, “I’m thinking about how good you’re gonna fill me with this pretty, thick cock.”

“Pretty?” you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d heard and read of many ways that people described dicks, but never in your life would you ever expect the word ‘pretty’ to be amongst that mix. Heejin giggled – one of mischief and ‘know-it-all’ energy. It’s pretty – her grip around you tightened, squeezing you with pleasurable force as her movements quickened almost in sync with your breathing – because I like the way it feels in my hand… and I know that this cock is gonna be better than anything that he’ll ever give me.

She stopped, putting a jarring halt to the pleasure that surged through your system. Her hand on your chest snaked up to your cheek – a sweet action that almost took the pure filth out of the words that followed. “I want you to fuck me–no, own me.”

It felt almost like a command in the way that you immediately wanted to fulfill her request. Her thumb traces circles on your face; her speech only gets filthier, “fuck me like I’m yours. Make me cum so hard that I forget all about him.”

You found yourself back in control of the part of your brain that controls the facilities of your speech and movement. You gingery held the wrist that was delivering those soft strokes of heaven just moments ago and pulled her hand off your throbbing shaft. As much as you’d love to have her jerk you off, there were more pressing matters at hand – namely the situation of her clothing and the fact that it was still on her. You wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close.

“Heejin darling,” you whispered, relishing the way she shivered as your warm breath made contact with her ear. “I can’t do much if you still have all of these damned clothes on.”

She quickly recognised the game that you were playing and was eager to match you step-for-step. She held your gaze as she hooked a finger into the top of the tube top that adorned that wonderful figure and—rather enthusiastically—pulled it down. The nipple covers were quickly discarded and her small, perky breasts caught your gaze. Judging from her smile, she loved that you were staring.

“You’re nice”, she told you, moving some hair out her face like you were looking there of all places. “He’s always commanding me: take off your clothes, do this, do that… I could get very used to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Her constant comparison of you and the man she was supposed to be loving was making you feel a little better about yourself (even though you knew that was far from the intended effect). You’d like to return the favour; you began running kisses down her body – starting from her lips before making your way down to her collarbone. Her shuddering sighs told you that you were doing something right, and you endeavored to keep up your performance for the rest of… Well… Whatever this session was.

“God… you’re fucking perfect, you know?” you informed her, wondering if she ever knew how much you adored that body of hers. Yes, you were more wholesome at a younger age – looking at her soft features and dorky personality to decide that you liked her. However, innocence never stopped you from stealing a glance or two at her ass when she wore tight jeans or a quick look at her slim figure whenever she wore anything that hugged her body like a glove. You’d never know if she ever caught you looking, but now you’re glad she knows that you are giving her your fullest attention (it was hard not to really).

You weren’t sure if her cheeks were flushing because of your comment or if she was just getting turned on. Either way, she still had remarks to deliver, “perfect is a little strong, but I’ll take the comment because I’m just so humble.”

Mischief was and would always be her idiosyncrasy.

A creak made both of you freeze. Female voices filled the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of heels clacking against the floor as your little getaway location was patronised by unwelcome guests.

“Ugh… This damned contact lens is not coming out,” an identified voice carped. It sounded like the woman who said it was just in front of the stall that you were in. Judging from the slight look of annoyance that crossed Heejin’s face, you deduced that those were fellow bridesmaids who were in there together with you. With the same expression lingering on her soft features, she reached down and unclasped her jeans. She unzipped them slightly before pulling them down – past the delightful curve of her waist and till they were halfway down her supple thighs.

“Do you need help?” another voice rings out. Heels striked against the floor as another female occupant moved to join the scene; Heejin moved to grab you by the cock and pull you closer (as if the two of you weren’t already skin to skin in that stall).

“Fuck me now,” she hissed, an almost angry look filling her eyes. It was like she was being fuelled by the annoyance that stemmed from the presence of her fellow bridesmaids – using it as an excuse to quickly get filled with cock and have it pumping in and out of her within the next few seconds or so. She was lucky that you were taught to never keep a girl waiting.

Your movements are quick and firm; grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Her gasp was telling of her surprise towards your sudden movements, but the grin that followed when she turned halfway around to you to watch as you pulled down her underwear told you that she liked how things were moving. Never in your life would you have imagined this: you and Jeon Heejin – each of you half naked in your own respects in a bathroom stall while people chatted freely beyond the wall of the stall. If the teenage version of yourself ever found out about this, you didn’t know how he’d respond.

Your right hand snaked down towards her crotch, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the slick wetness that could very well be running down the inside of her thigh. You could always check, but you liked to imagine. You took your shaft in your right hand. She bent slightly at the waist, her hands pressed against the white wall of the stall. The rest of her tight frame joined her hands soon after you parted the wet lips of her cunt and hilted yourself inside of her.

Her insides felt like a warm embrace – better than you could’ve ever imagined it to be. It felt like a perfect fit; the throbbing meat within her walls filled her perfectly and felt every small movement the flesh could ever register. To call it heavenly would be downplaying the sheer pleasure she was bringing just by letting you be inside of her. Jeon Heejin felt like something unreal, unfathomable. You doubted that your hastily crafted description of her sweet wet cunt could allow one to process this taste of heaven.

Heejin let out a sharp gasp – loud enough for only the two of you to hear and loud enough for you to know that she too was unprepared for this new experience. From the way the muscles on her back tensed as her walls tightened around you, it felt as if her body was welcoming you. It was almost like she was subconsciously pulling you closer, deeper. You could get very used to this.

You revel in it a little, take in the feelings, the new sensation; the sound of the intentional soft breaths that the two of you were taking. This was certainly a novelty for you, and if you were being very honest with yourself: the events that led up to this moment felt a little too much like a fever dream. You half expected yourself to wake up in the next few seconds, or maybe—

“What are you waiting for?”–of course. It had to be her to really cement the fact that this whole thing was actually real. Sure, it’s inconceivable; but no imaginative power of yours could ever replicate the sarcasm (splashed with hunger) behind her voice, nor could you visualise the smouldering look in her eyes as she bit her lip–“your dick is in me. Do something with it.”

It felt like a challenge. She knew damn well that you always took up her challenges.

Withdrawing yourself from the warmth of her slick, you took a moment to cast your gaze downward. You appreciate the sight of your shaft glistening in her juices for a moment—and only a moment. There were pressing matters at hand—before thrusting back into her and reacquainting yourself with the warmth of her walls. You’d have loved to get into this slowly; unfortunately, Heejin chose the worst possible place to get it on. You’d have to live with her choices (and this isn’t exactly new for you).

And as a third voice joins the fray outside your stall—I think I have some eye drops here. Maybe that could help?—you began pumping yourself in and out of her, slow and controlled with full strokes that filled her to the brim. The voices continued to fill the bathroom as the three anonymous patrons struggled with one of their lenses; you struggled to keep yourself together inside of Heejin’s hot wet cunt.

“F-Fuck yes,” she hissed. Don’t worry, it was soft. Or you could just be too absorbed by the delightful sound of wet squelching as your shaft appears and disappears between her legs to notice that she may be a tad loud. Even if it was, the trouble outside was enough to keep the other three “I can’t believe I’m finally getting this dick. God… You’re so… Oh my god.”

It humoured you to see her in this state, though laughing at her would be the pot calling the kettle black; you yourself were trying to hold on to something tangible—that wasn’t her waist cause hot damn was your grip on it doing a number on you. Counterintuitive, but hot nonetheless—to keep you grounded in your senses. Slip up and you’d be dealing with the risk of being found in a girl’s bathroom.

“Jesus Heejin”–you were trying your best to throw in some dirty talk. It would help to spice things up if it weren’t for the fact that your own words were failing you. Your mind was almost completely consumed by the warm squeeze of her pussy, the small twitches of her walls as you drilled yourself into her tight frame like you were slowly nailing a painting onto the wall of the cramped stall. Actually, you were nailing a painting to the wall of the stall: the way her body moved and responded to your thrusts could easily be considered fine art in your books; her body could be considered a canvas given its pale complexion and its smooth surface. Heejin was an art piece herself – a complicated mix of emotions that could take the place of colour and a mind so complex that no composition could ever capture its essence. Good god… You were hooked on this girl–”you have no idea how fucking good you feel around my cock.”

To be clear: from the moment you started fucking her, she hadn’t turned back to face the wall. This whole time she’d been facing you – eyes smoking under the fire of passion and her mouth slightly parted as if her soft moans and sighs were keeping them permanently open. Simply put – she was hot. If you were to discard the complications behind the sex, one could easily classify this as plain, passionate and simple fucking (in a highly risky scenario that could jeopardize both of your reputations, mainly Heejin’s) between two people who have longed for each other. But the plainness of that sounded unappealing to you; the enthralling fact about this was the complexity of the situation – the thrill behind the immorality of it and the sheer risk behind satisfying your own desires. As she gasped when your hands found purchase in her soft breasts, you wondered if she had the same thoughts running through your head as you (though from the looks of it, she was purely enjoying the sex and probably leaving her thoughts behind. Words fail in times like these – you’d be one to know).

Her voice is unsteady as she hissed through her teeth—harder. Fucking give it to me like I’m yours—to perversely request for more than what you were giving her. To see her this uncouth enthralled you to no end. With one hand on her left tit, you moved to secure her hair in a bunch in your other hand. Her hair was a little far from silky—no doubt from all the dye that it’d seen—but it provided friction for you to grip onto her strands with ease as you decreased the intervals between your thrusts. The sound of wet squelching began to permeate the stall, and it was starting to be accompanied by the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin as you struggled to control your desires to rail the girl before you. Thankfully, the cries of victory from the women outside masked the unsavoury sounds.

“Thank god!” one of them, presumably the one who had their contact lens stuck. You’d affectionately refer to them as ‘Eyes’. “I thought it’d be in there forever. Thanks guys.”

“No worries”, another chimed. It was the second voice you heard when all of them entered. She’d be ‘Two’. “Normally you could take this to Heejin. She’d get you fixed up in a flash.”

“Really?” the third asked. You’ll call her ‘Three’. “Do idols get their contacts stuck a lot?”

“Probably,” Eyes mused, “all that dancing on stage probably isn’t suited for glasses, and who knows what type of contacts their stylists have them on.”

Heejin catched your gaze. Struggling to control her breathing, she managed to confirm Eye’s statement—she’s… kinda right. Oh fuck…—before you pulled back firmly on her hair to shut her mouth. Don’t be mistaken: you loved her personality and all, but now really wasn’t the time for it to shine. For good measure, you sealed her lips with a kiss – sloppy and clumsy and hurried. You squeezed her breast a little harder.

“Where is she anyway?” Three asked. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go talk to that friend of hers…”

A tongue click of disapproval could be heard. You could imagine that it was followed by a tongue wave of dismissal from the way Two commented, “leave her be. She rarely gets to get out of her schedule. Probably trying to catch up with some old friends or something…”

There was a hum of agreement; Heejin moaned straight into your mouth as you captured her nipple between your fingers and squeezed. If the women outside knew how Heejin was ‘catching up’ with you, you didn’t know how they’d react to the sight of her being fucked raw in a bathroom stall meters away from them. You didn’t know how she was getting away with this, but you weren’t exactly complaining. If it wasn’t for understanding bridesmaids, you wouldn't be able to make a wet mess out of her. Maybe you’d thank them later, but you’d decide on that after you were done with Heejin.

“Was that the guy she was talking about the other day?” Two inquired. You had no idea what she looked like, and it scared you a little that she’d seen your face.

There was a moment of pause before Eyes quipped, “what guy?”

Silence followed Eyes’ question. For a second, you were worried that they’d all picked up on the lewd sounds of you fucking the very girl that they were speaking of. You held your breath, but you didn’t stop pumping your shaft between Heejin’s legs. She was almost like a lifeline – a slick and wet and oh-so-hot one that was keeping grounded in your senses while hooking to the sensation of the slick thrusts inside her pussy. Miracle drug… Or maybe just a drug – either way: Heejin was everything to you right now. Listening in on their conversation was just so that you wouldn’t be found during your few minutes in heaven.

“Nevermind. I think I wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Two muttered. “Let’s get out of here before someone spikes our drink or something.”

They began discussing more mundane things, and you couldn’t care less about them because all that really mattered was the fact that their voices were fading away. You waited till you heard the sound of the creaky door closing to relinquish Heejin’s lips from your possession. She let out a gasp of air, followed by a desperate cry – loud and pleading now that she had the freedom to speak.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” she hissed. It was almost a snarl really. “Cum with me. Please.”

She was lucky that you: a) had a really big soft spot for her and; b) knew better than to turn a nice girl down.

With a grunt, the hand on her breast shoots to her throat, gripping it tightly as you frantically fuck Heejin to catch up with her imminent orgasm. She was into it, reciprocating by accompanying your hand on her throat and squeezing even tighter. She lets strained cries tumble from her mouth—Oh yes baby… I’m yours. Oh fuck… Oh my fucking god… You’re gonna make me cum so hard—her wells squeezing tighter and tighter around you. Husky was her voice as she pleaded with you to take your liberties—Fucking cum anywhere you like. I just want to be yours—with her, and she was practically shaking in your grasp as you drove yourself closer and closer to the point of no return inside her wet tight walls. Everything – your heart and soul and whatever – pointed you towards making a huge mess out of the women in your arms, and you endeavoured to achieve that goal one way or another.

The tingling at the base of your cock was steadily growing up your shaft. Your thoughts blurred together, nullifying and cancelling each other out till all you could think of was her. With every pump into her, you told yourself that she was yours to take. With every sigh that left her lips, you thought about how many times she pictured this moment in her head. With each gasp and sigh and moan and cry, you fought the urge to hiss through your teeth—Heejin, I love you so much—and admit your feelings for her and how much you’ve missed her touch; tell her how no one made you feel like she could; let her know that for all these years, you’d longed to reconnect with her and sort things out once and for all. Sweet thoughts; perverse desires. The latter wins – all that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And it happened. A little quicker than you’d have liked but there was no way to control the course that the lust of man would take you down. Your cock pops out of Heejin’s heat, glistening with her slick wetness as you pump yourself to completion with your free hand. The hand on Heejin’s throat was pulled down to her crotch, and she used your fingers to rub the swollen nub of her clit as the first ropes of semen shot out and landed on her lower back. She came as the second rope landed on the swell of her left ass cheek, and her knees buckled as the third and fourth spurts hit the fabric of her tube top and the right side of her lower back respectively. You lost track of the rest of your load as Heejin leaned against you, quaking as her orgasm struck her in waves and your load continued to streak her back. It all was so fast. You wondered how either you managed to process your actions in the moment.

She panted against you, sweaty and spent as she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Your dick stayed flushed against the small of her back, slick with a mix of fluids from you and her. Your hand at her crotch slowly rubs circles into her clit, easing her off her peak and giving you something else to focus on other than how beautiful she looked. You feared that if you stared too long, you’d say something that you didn’t want her to know. The last thing you wanted was to have that moment of intimacy—facilitated by the afterglow of really good sex—to be ruined by some stupid feelings.

“Hey,” she whispered – all soft and tender as she opened her eyes to stare up at you. “That was fucking incredible.”

You managed a chuckle, restraining the urge to kiss her where she stood. She smiled, reached up to cup your cheek as you stared deep into her eyes. For a moment, the world went silent for you and her.

Then she pulled you down to her, kissed you where she stood. The position was a little awkward, your noses bumping each other at odd spots on your faces as she let the sweet nectar that was her lips grace your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, different from the kiss you’d given her in the midst of fucking her. It felt so right, so tender.

She released your lips with a soft smack, positively glowing as she gazed into your eyes for a little bit longer.

“Keep this between us,” she whispered, “I love you. I always have.”

***

You stared blankly at her. It was all you could do really.

“What part of this can’t you understand?” she asked. The anger behind her voice was potent, palpable. “I have a boyfriend. Stay away.”

In your hand, the note that you’d plan to hand her felt a little lighter than it had when you first approached. Wishful thinking had you delusional; there was no chance that she would ever go to that dance with you.

You thought that maybe the friendship could coax her into it – that maybe the years of what almost felt like kinship would drive her to just hear you out for a little bit; yet you seemed to forget that love is blind and can cloud your judgement.

In a moment, it felt like everything you’d built with her had turned to ashes.

***

“Indulge me Heejin. Bring me through your thought process.”

On the bed of your apartment, Heejin tosses her phone aside. Languidly, she flips onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as her elbow dents the pillow.

“I know,” she mutters, a little bit shamefully if you might add. “Dating another guy to make you jealous and confess is a classic fanfiction folly and all… But I was desperate.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You know that we could’ve just… talked, right?”

Her lips form a line. She sighs and lets her head flop back onto the pillow with a bit of a thump. To be very clear: you aren’t asking her all these questions to guilt trip her into an apology. You are genuinely curious to understand how she was thinking at the period in your lives. It’s a good point of reflection for the both of you considering you both screwed up in one way or another, and maybe even a good chance to offload some emotional baggage. You’ll admit – finding out that she’d dated the guy she was currently with just to get you to run to her and confess your love in highschool was a bit of a shocking discovery. It was foolish, yes… But you wondered why Heejin of all women would resort to such methods. She could be awfully blunt when she wanted to be, and somehow even more blunt when she was telling you that you looked like shit in skinny jeans. You never knew as one to shy away from a confrontation when necessary, and even though she could be a bit of a big dork, she was emotionally aware enough to understand that communication would easily have settled your feelings for each other.

Heejin rolls in the bed, moving close to you so that she can throw an arm around you as she asks, “you’re not mad right?”

“No. Just curious,” you tell her truthfully. She’s silent for a moment, then she looks you in the eyes and opens up: I always meant to talk to you about it. When I heard from Haesul that you liked me I… I was just ecstatic. You were everything I wanted in a man, and I really just wanted to make you mine. Believe me when I say that I wanted to just run to you after the school bell rang and tell you that I loved you too… and maybe ask you out on a date the next weekend.

Her thumb traces circles on your back. You can tell that she’s being sincere from the way she never shies from your gaze. She continues, “but as I’m running to your class down the hall… This guy comes up to me and just tells me that he’s been crushing on me for years and wants to date me. I want to tell him ‘no’ on the spot. I really did. But I see an opportunity to… I dunno… Spice things up a little.”

And you can guess the rest of the story, but you just want to hear her say it just to be sure. Sure enough, she tells you the exact line that you predicted out of her—one thing led to another and then… well, here we are—and you can’t help but chuckle. The whole thing is pretty damn foolish to be honest, and you recognise the fact that if you’d just acted a little less rashly, maybe you wouldn’t have had to go down the path that you did. It’s a folly of the past but it does bring some shame to your present.

“I’m sorry”—she surprises you with this one. You assumed that you guys are past the stage of reconciliation at this point. I mean… You did fuck in a bathroom before she texted you after the wedding she was attending, so it would be kinda right to just conclude that you guys pre-fired the make-up sex—“I was rash and stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising again?” you ask her, “I thought we were through with the sob ‘sorry’s and what-nots.”

“Just for good measure,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes as she shifts around in your bed a little. “You can never be too careful when it comes to these types of things. Don’t want to make you an enemy again, do I?”

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” you reason, albeit playful rather than serious. She recognises that and scoffs as you continue, “they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“So what I’m hearing is: you’d stay for the hate sex,” she fires back. You smile.

“Not quite… But somewhat.”

Heejin sighs and slaps your leg. You secretly like pissing her off a little, but she didn’t need to know.

“Now mister,” she says, hijacking the course of the conversation. “Indulge me and bring me through your thought process, and this isn’t about highschool by the way.”

She presses herself up against you, and you feel her hand slide down your torso and to your crotch.

“Tell me,” she whispers, a bit of smoky sultriness sneaking its way into her voice. “Why are you so fucking hard?”

It’s here that you realise that you’ve kinda walked into a trap. Not that what’s about to proceed is bad or anything, but it’s just that you’re a little disappointed that you hadn’t spotted this a little earlier. There were signs that you ignored when you saw her in your bed – namely the fact that she was wearing a see-through sleeveless dress that had a plunging neckline. If that wasn’t enough, she was blatantly playing with herself when you walked in, staring at her phone with this blanked out expression while her fingers worked between her thighs. If it weren’t for your questions about her relationship decisions, the two of you would probably have been naked and sweating in your bed right now.

“Can I guy not be excited by a pretty girl?” you’re not trying to play innocent, but you are seeing how far it can get you in this situation just for fun.

“Not this guy.” Heejin’s fingers snake around your cock, gripping it lightly through your pants. “And definitely not when it comes to this girl.”

You chuckle softly and catch her hand at your crotch. You pull it away and lean in to whisper into her ear, “don’t worry Heejin. I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re wearing the easiest thing for me to fuck you in.”

Her eyes brighten. “So you did notice…”

And the kiss that follows is far from tame really. You’re at fault for this one since you initiated it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you from keeping your hands to yourself as you reach down and locate her pussy. Okay wait, you’re making it sound like it took you some effort to find it when you really only took about a second; it’s really easy considering that the panties she’s wearing were so sheer and thin that you could hardly consider it underwear. It was probably more like a concept of clothing than an actual, tangible thing. And her dress? The hem was a lot shorter than it looked. She probably hiked it up or something.

You’re unsurprised by the slick wetness of her cunt practically dripping out of her at this juncture. She’s probably been holding it in for a while now – suppressing all that lust and hunger to talk about feelings for some 30 minutes before she finally gets the chance to let loose on you. Hats off to her really: she had more control than you’d credit her for.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, latheing your fingers in her juices by dipping them in between her undoubtedly flushed lips. “So wet for me already.”

“Wetter than I’ll ever be for him,” she sighs, almost breathlessly as she shuts her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers getting familiar with her warm cunt. “You should—mmph… you should be grateful that I’m actually attracted to you.”

“I feel honoured.” you’re being genuine with her, but right now it comes off more as a sarcastic passing comment that leans towards the more tame side of dirty talk. Either way, anything you say would probably end with her putting your dick into one—or maybe all—of her holes and using it to her liking. Not that you’re complaining or anything, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There’s no stopping Heejin’s desire, and there really isn’t a point to trying to stop it. You’d be missing out on, like, a lot. “Though, no pressure, I’d be more honoured if you actually did something about that attraction.”

She smiles, borderline sadistic and a bit more enthusiastic than you’re used to. Her hands are deft as she quickly undoes the knot that keeps your sweatpants around your waist, pulls it off eagerly and makes quick work of your boxers. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing as she slides out of bed to discard her dress. In record time, she’s between your legs and stroking your shaft with patient strokes of her hand. The cheeky comments that you had beforehand quickly sank back down your chest – replaced by an earthy groan that only Heejin was capable of drawing out of you.

“You know… I was doing a bit of thinking,” she tells you.

“You do a lot of that.”

Heejin has no comments, only a cheeky little grin as she breathes warm air onto the tip of your cock. It makes you shudder, surging pleasure through your veins down to your bones. She’s oddly good at making you squirm, and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.

“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed by what she’d just done to you. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe I could cross out one of my fantasies today.”

You’re no stranger to her wild thoughts that could probably fight that of Sabrina Carpenter. As you’d recently found out: fucking in a bathroom stall was one of many wild fantasies that she’d been wanting to cross out. Now that she had you, she’d been busy crossing more and more of them out. The whole infidelity thing was already a major part of her list considering the fact that she’s doing it with you instead of her ‘official’ partner, and things only get wilder from there. Sex with her can sometimes be like exposure therapy, not that you’ve done it before or anything.

“And which one are we ruling out today?” you inquire, watching with great interest as she produces her phone from below the mattress and swipes through it eagerly. You never saw her grab the damn thing, but you figured that you were probably too preoccupied with the sight of her undressing to take notice. By the way: the entire time that the two of you had been talking? Yeah, she’s been stroking you through all of that. One can only imagine how you were feeling at the moment.

When you saw her phone, you thought that she was going to open her notes app and start looking through her kinks or something. Nothing prepares you for the sound of a dial tone, and you can only watch as she lays the phone next to your thigh, just out of your reach.

“No prizes for guessing who I’m calling,” she grins, almost too innocently for your taste. “Try not to make too much noise okay?”

And before anything can be said, she slacks her jaw and draws you into the warm wet depths of her mouth.

The dial tone only continues as Heejin goes still – adjusting to your size and length and taste and shape and whatever she needs to configure herself to. Frankly: if she’d just started sucking you off with that tight seal around your cock, you would’ve been in perdition in mere seconds after she starts. So you give a small thanks to whoever’s watching over you from up above, and you pray that the person on the other end of the line doesn't pick up. While you utter that silent prayer, Heejin’s tongue introduces itself to your tip, sliding almost gracefully over the head of your cock as her phone rings for the nth time. Another ring; her tongue flattens itself against the base of your dick and melts itself to the surface. You grit your teeth, fearful that the moment you make a sound, the other party would pick up and hear it. She slides up in a fluid motion, almost perfectly seamless if she hadn’t gone too far up too fast. Your cock ends up hitting her in the chin, and she smiles as if it were some cute thing that she was taking care of.

“Heejin,” you grunt, keeping an eye on the phone screen in fear for both of your lives. “Let’s not—”

The caller chooses that moment to pick up, and this is where the game starts. Your lips shut so fast it feels almost automatic, and Heejin tears her eyes away from yours to focus on the other player of this perverse game.

“Hi baby,” she greets her ‘lover’, all sweet and cute like she isn’t pumping your saliva-slick shaft in her hand as she calls him a pet name. “I was missing you, so I called.”

“Oh… I’m kinda busy now.” he sounds highly uninterested in her, tone dull and dry as Heejin takes a moment to give your cock a squeeze. “Can you call me back another time?”

For a moment, you’re ecstatic. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be subject to her games this time.

“Quick chat. Promise,” Heejin fires back. She smiles wickedly, relishing the look on your face as you stare at her in a mix of shock and horror. “Just tell me about your day so far. It’s so hard to wait for you to get home to tell me about your day.”

There’s a moment of silence. Heejin takes advantage of the situation; she puts you back into her mouth and makes quick, sloppy work of your cock. The sound of slurping and gurgling is almost deafening, and there’s no way in hell that this man on the other side of the phone was not hearing all of this as Heejin blew you. You tilt your head back, clenching your teeth to prevent the guttural groan that’s building up deep within your chest from escaping your body. You’re hoping deep breaths of air can fill the space – block the desire to cry out in pleasure at the cusp of being translated into phonetics.

“Fine.” you’re almost grateful to hear that dull voice. “I’ve just been doing some filing and some paperwork… Nothing much really.”

“Mhm,” Heejin mumbles, your cock still in her mouth. She frees it for a second to deliver a line—that sounds like super important work babe—that’s definitely sarcastic in her head and in concept, but masterfully manipulated to sound sincere and enthusiastic. “Anything else?”

“Uh… No.”

Heejin seems almost too gleeful between your legs. “Great. I’ll give you a quick run-down of my day then.”

She proceeds to give him utter bullshit, lying through her teeth about lazing around in her dorm and eating yoghurt. All the while she’s lazily delivering firm pumps to your cock, the sound of her spit squelching in her own hand a little too loud for your liking. Then she starts twisting, and you feel as if all hell is breaking loose inside of you. Your throat is pricked with the sharp gasps that are fighting to be let out of your mouth, skin tingling with the effervescence of pleasure racing through just about every vein in your body. You’re certain you have a knuckle-white grip on your sheets as uses her thumb to rub against the underside of your slit while her other fingers pull the skin around your head tight to keep the sensitive part of you exposed to her impending assault.

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, and you’re wondering what other lies she’s capable of generating right now. “I got a call from my old friend that I met at the club before the wedding… He says he wants to be my personal photographer.”

And now you’re shocked and stunned. What was a passing joke yesterday is now being used against you in a way that you can’t even fathom. Heejin revels in the silence—and all the emotions that could possibly be engendered by that single statement—as she smiles and licks you from base to tip. The layer of saliva around your cock thickens, and she uses that to get more aggressive with her motions. You didn’t know if she has limits to her cruelty, and you really hope that she’s reaching it soon.

“You know how I feel about that guy…” he begins.

“I know, I know… I’m just telling you to keep you in the know.”—her dismissal of his worries is quick and almost genuine if it weren’t for the fact that she was going against his wishes while she assuages his worries—”wouldn’t want to fight with you again, would I?”

He grunts in agreement. “Stay away from him baby. He’s bad company.”

“Yeah,” she hums, locking eyes with you as she hovers her mouth over your tip. She gives it a swipe of her tongue, smiling as you grimace under the pressure that shoots up from your crotch. “He’s such a bad guy…”

Not that you’re into this or anything, but hearing that drawl—sinful and sultry; raunchy and earthy—made your breath hitch a little. Sure, you’re no stranger to Heejin’s sensual side; but this was a bit of her that you had yet to experience. It felt like she’d dug up a new side to her, something unearthed and unaired, and you’ll be the only one to see it. She could take your breath away in many ways and you’d just found another.

The man on the other end grunts once more. With a gruff “Alright. I’ll text you later”, he hangs up on Heejin, leaving you free to let out the breath that you’d been holding in up till that point.

“Isn’t he a bundle of sunshine?” Heejin drops the facade almost instantly, using the hand that wasn’t occupied with your cock to retrieve her phone. “Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds… Huh. That’s longer than most of our calls.”

You can only pant and watch as she giggles and tosses her phone aside. She crawls back up the bed and takes your lips into hers, and you’d like to think that it’s a sweet apology for the hell she’d just put you through. Deep down you know it wasn’t, but you’re in the mood for some wishful thinking after what you went through.

“Not sure if I’m being greedy here,” Heejin whispers, “but I’d like you to indulge me just a little more…”

“I’d like to hear this one through first,” you quickly request, because no way in hell were you about to live through those 5 minutes and 27 seconds for a second time. “Can’t let you bite off more than you can chew.”

Heejin laughs, fully aware where this was coming from.

“Don’t worry. I think you’ll like this one,” she assures you, placing a hand on your chest for good measure. “Hand on my heart, honest-to-god: you’ll love this one as much as the next guy.”

You couldn’t help it. You had to check her – match her step for step.

“Considering that I just saw you lie through your teeth, I think it’s fair to say that I don’t quite trust you,” you tell her as plainly as you can. And it’s not that you actually don’t, but more so the fact that you’re just baiting her into saying something really raunchy that’ll rile the two of you up to no end. Depravity is the root of really good sex after all.

“I promise you,” her lips tilt at an angle as she smiles, “when we're done with this one, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.”

***

You figured that she’d come to you with the news at some point – tell you that he’d found her out and that things are gonna happen and blah blah. What you didn’t expect was for her to show up in the middle of the night to be a bearer of bad news.

“Went back to get a sweater that I’d forgotten,” Heejin’s explaining, a can of beer in her hand and fry in the other. “Open the door and next thing I know, the fucker’s blowing up on me in my face.”

She takes a swig and sighs. “Never liked him anyway… We fought more than we talked. Before you ask, make-up sex was horrible.”

You can only frown and nod in sympathy. You’re complicit in this whole ordeal and so don’t have much of a say in this thing. Guilty as charged, red-handed and whatever. You’re just glad that he didn't come over and beat you up like she said he would. Heejin downs the rest of the beer in the can in a gulp and gently places it on your table.

“Is anything gonna happen to you?” you can’t help but ask out of concern.

Her smile assures you a little, but her words don’t, “honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out if my publicist gives me hell tomorrow.”

She rises from her seat. “I’m just glad it’s over,” she says. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lived with that dry son of a bitch.”

Her sweater comes off her body. She tosses it at you. In her T-shirt, she struts towards the bedroom, stops in the doorway. With a look over her shoulder, she beckons you to join her—come make my night, would ya?—before slipping into the room.

Always a dance with her.

***

You’re starting to question where Heejin draws the line between her sex life and her regular life.

(You’ve said this about a thousand times by now, but) Not that you’re carping or whatever, it’s just that sex on the kitchen counter while your instant noodles are clearly being overdone in the pot a few meters away is a bit of a safety hazard. You’re no chef, but bubble frothing out of a closed pot really isn’t a good sign.

“Heejin,” you say, struggling to fit her name between the ragged breaths and frantic thrusts.

“I know,” she rasps in reply. “Ngh… We can… Turn it off later. I’m so close.”

Pretty solid reasoning in your opinion.

How you got into this situation is a bit more complicated that you’d care to explain, but let’s just say that a late night snack can quickly turn into a literal fuck-fest when Jeon Heejin palmed the shape of your boner as you put a pack of instant noodles into a boiling pot. You didn’t know what came over you really, but after the noodles went in and the pot lid was closed, you had her propped up on the counter and her panties around her ankles. You can figure out how you got to this point.

Okay: to be fair to Heejin, you did kinda start this whole situation that might just put your lives on the line. You’re the perpetrator, criminal mastermind; yada-yada. But if you were to consider the technicalities, she did aggravate you to fuck her, and by so virtue of that you’re kinda both at fault. Does it make sense? Great, cause a situation where you’re both a little dirty minded makes for really great sex.

Great… Now you just explained the complicated situation. Eh, who’s exempt from a little contradiction now and then. Anyway… Where were you?

“Oh my fucking god.” she’s moaning a lot louder than usual, loud enough to probably convert her voice into some sort of energy for the homeless or something. Between her thighs lay a wet mess that was the source of all this crying and keening, and your juice slicked cock is the thing that’s driving her wild with ecstasy as she wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you deeper into each thrust with her legs. “Fuck me harder please. I need to cum all over your pretty cock so badly I–”

She barely has it in her to finish her sentence. Her plea is truncated by a sharp cry, and it would be pretty funny if it weren’t for the fact that it's probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. The cry is almost delicate, fragile to the ear and almost like sweet music that plays in the dark. The keyword here is ‘almost’. Your description rings true, but the fact that she’s such a needy little bitch right now kind of ruins it. ‘Ruin’ is a little heavy handed; ‘taint’ would be a better word.

Yeah… Her want taints the beauty behind her desire… But only a little.

“I’m cumming”—Heejin’s practically whimpering at this rate. God you’d have quite the mess to clean up later—”I’m fucking cumming on your cock daddy I–Oh… Oh god oh fuck.”

“Fucking cum,” you hiss, saliva flying past your teeth and maybe onto her ear. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Give me a nice and tight pussy to cum inside of.”

It feels weird, dirty even, referring to Heejin as a slut, but her reaction tells you she likes it. She loves being called your slut. You can see her mouth agape, tongue sticking out a little. She can barely keep her eyes open as the pleasure courses through her. Her nails dig into your back, and you think she might be drawing blood, but the pain doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters is the sight before you.

She cums hard, and you know this because her walls clamp down on you like a vice. If you could, you would have taken a picture. The sight is just that amazing, but you're also preoccupied. The pressure is just right. The rhythmic pulsing of her walls against your throbbing cock is too much for you to take. Your hips stutter to a stop as you release a deep moan, and she gasps as she’s filled with rope after rope of hot cum.

When you finally come down from your high, Heejin is still panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut, and legs still wrapped around your waist. You can't hold back the little smile that crosses your face as you watch her catch her breath. She looks so peaceful. It's hard to imagine her as a girl with the dirtiest mouth you've ever heard.

She peeks an eye open to see you staring.

“The pot dummy,” she reminds you, and the horrors of reality come crashing back all at once.

***

So you do find a little bit of a charm behind really soggy Buldak in the wee hours of the night. It’s not the best thing you’ve tasted, but it had its appeal. The sauce helped to mask the depression in the sad, close-to-slimy strands of dough in your bowls, though it didn’t stop you from experiencing a new texture that was severely overcooked noodles.

“Still think we could’ve left it in a little longer,” Heejin muses, staring at the limp noodle trapped between her chopsticks. “Maybe from there we could reverse-engineer the noodle and re-cook it.”

“Yea. And maybe we don’t fuck when there’s clearly a four minute limit to this stuff,” you add befor slurping up the last few spicy, sad and soggy strands in your bowl.

“Hey. I’m pretty sure the sex was good enough to offset this abomination,” she huffs, setting down her bowl next to yours. “Besides… We’re kinda both in the wrong this time. It’s not always just me you know?”

“Never said it was your fault.” you’re admiring the way her eyes glow in the dim light. At the right angle, it looked like the light was filling her pupils in the most adorable way. “You’re just inferring shit from a passing statement.”

“Wonder where I picked that up from…” she fired back, though it felt much more like she was conceding defeat than challenging further provocation. It was always a dance with her: unpredictable patterns in constant motion, and all you can do is follow her lead.

Maybe one day you’d find the time - make up for the dance you lost and dance with her for real.

Hi. Kinda posting here again because my therapist said that it was good for me to continue writing to regulate my emotions. This one is kinda messy and unedited cause I just wanted to get this out here for funsies. Anyway, I won't be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will drop by from time to time. No promises that I'm gonna be incredibly active and no promises that I won't disappear of the face of the earth again.

Cheers, Nichu

#kpop #fanfic #heejin #heejin smut #artms #artms heejin

815 notes · View notes

sleepyjuice · 7 months ago

Text

r u mine? — jj maybank

summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.

word count: 4181

warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff

a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3

“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.

“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.

“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.

“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.

You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.

You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.

But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.

So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.

You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.

jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??

jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?

jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b

You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.

You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.

You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.

This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.

“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.

Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.

“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.

“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“

“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.

“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.

you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about

you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao

you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??

you: have a good night at work! <3

You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.

“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.

“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…

An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.

You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.

You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.

“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.

You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.

You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.

“Oh, so you do have a phone.”

You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.

“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.

“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.

“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.

“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.

“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.

“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.

“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.

“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.

“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.

“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.

“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.

You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.

His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.

“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.

You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.

His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.

“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.

“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.

“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.

“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.

The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.

“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.

“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.

You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.

“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.

“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.

“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.

“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.

Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.

“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.

You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.

“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.

You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.

“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.

You didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.

He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.

“Don’t fuck with me —“

“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.

“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“

“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.

“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.

You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.

“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.

The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.

His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.

“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.

“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.

“Mhm, I’m still yours.”

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x you

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xoxotria · 9 months ago

Text

in secret | csc

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol x model!reader

themes: secret relationship, situationship

warnings: minors dni! smut, fingering, mentions of reader having breasts and a vagina

ring. ring. ring.

you didn’t bother checking who was calling as there was only one person to call you during your schedule.

“you know you can’t keep calling me while i’m at work cheol.”

you hear a chuckle on the other end of the line as you pick up another booty call from seungcheol. you had met him through an event where you accidentally bumped into him as you were leaving your dressing room and the rest was history.

“yet you still always answer baby.”

“only because god knows how pouty you get when i don’t.” you laugh as you wave your collegues goodbye, your fittings and schedule over for the day.

you had walked over to your car still on the phone with cheol as you unlocked your car and got in to continue your call in private.

“what is it you want tonight? i’m pretty tired for sex today.”

ah, yes. you were in a friends-with-benefits type of relationship with cheol after that one incident where you both were at a after party in which both of you had alcohol in your system but still sober enough to decide to have sex in his car before he drove you home to your apartment.

“i’m not calling you for sex—well tonight i’m not.” he laughs as you hear the faint sounds of the radio in the background. “i was passing by your favorite restaurant and bought too much food for one person to eat alone so i was gonna ask you if i could come over and share a meal with you tonight.”

“woah, who are you and what have you done to the cheol i met first?” you teased him as you pulled out of the parking and into the street to head home to your apartment a couple of blocks away.

“i can be a gentleman too if i wanted to you know? rude that you think otherwise.” you could see him pouting my the way his voice sounded over the phone.

“i’m kidding baby i know you are but yes you can come over. the doors are unlocked and i’m a few minutes away.” you answer.

“how many times do i have to tell you to not leave your doors unlocked? you’ll be the death of me woman seriously.”

“and how many times do i need to tell you my apartments security is really good. anyways, i got to pass by a shop to buy some stuff for my apartment. i’ll see you later.”

“m’kay, drive safe. see you later.”

༝༚༝༚

“—and then they forced them to hug it out with hannie after they had won the prize and could go home early! it was the funniest thing i saw today.” cheol laughed from the other side of the table as the both of you ate dinner together.

“i would’ve loved to see that in person.” you laughed as you imagined it happening infront of you.

you were familiar with his group, seventeen. he had ‘forced’ you to watch gose episodes and some of their (more specifically his) fancams from previous concerts during some of your more casual meet ups. you had enjoyed it so much you actually had a slight infatuation with wonwoo much to cheol’s dismay that he wasn’t your bias.

“you’d love the boys. they are the same on and off camera, i’m super proud of them really.” he gushed as he sipped on the beer you had bought before coming home.

“i’m sure they feel the same way about you,” you reassured him as he smiled at you.

cheol was a great leader, he was kind but firm especially when it came to his brothers. he would rather pay fines and reassure his fans than keep them overthinking about things. he was a pure soul—maybe that’s why over time you had slowly fallen for him.

“thanks baby.” he mouthed to you as you both enjoyed the rest of your dinner in comfortable silence.

you watched as he finished his food the same time you had before grabbing the plastic containers and throwing them in the trash tidying up your dining room before plopping down on the couch beside you. you had been planning on setting boundaries with him as you knew your feelings would get hurt if he finds a girl he actually wants to pursue and not just fuck.

you had past flings and relationships before you had met cheol. it was never easy for you to fall in love with the way you’ve fallen for cheol—not even with your exes. you had been the secret girlfriend or lover before so why was it so hard to be that with cheol? oh right. you weren’t even his girlfriend. you’re just a one-call away fuck when he needed you to be. but you’d also be the first person he’d run to when the world around him became too much for him to handle.

“cheol?” you called out softly as you approached the couch.

“hmm?” he hummed as he looked up from the tv to look at you.

you watched his brown eyes lock on your own as the nerves in your stomach knotted. you couldn’t do it but you knew you needed to before you hurt yourself by loving a man that wasn’t even yours to love.

could you stomach not being able to hold him the way only you could when it was just the two of you? to live with the thought that he’ll settle down with another woman and that he couldn’t do it with you? to know that you were good enough to fuck but not commit to fully?

“how long will we continue like this?” you ask as you take the spot on the couch beside him.

“what do you mean sweetheart?” he asked as his brows furrowed in confusion.

“this cheol. you and me. is this all we’re going to be? a quick fuck and leave?” you could see the way the gears in his mind were then turning.

he didn’t know what to answer.

“i thought we were fine with this kind of set up? you didn’t want any commitments and i didn’t too especially in the industry we are in.”

“i was at first. things happen seungcheol—things even sometimes i can’t stop.” you argue as you watch him fidget with his hands.

“i—i can’t do it (y/n). there’s so much on the line for me—for you! i have an album release coming up. you have your runway and cover launch. if anyone finds out, the backlash would be too much for both of us to quiet down quick enough that it won’t ruin everything we’ve built.” he reasoned as he stood up from the couch.

“am i really just a good fuck to you?” the question hung in the air as you watch him try to answer you but decided not to and grabbed his keys making a beeline for the door.

“so much for being a gentleman. goodbye asshole!” you shout at him as he leaves your apartment in silence.

you broke down in tears burrying your face into your throwpillow mourning a relationship that was never there to begin with. you had shared you body with him—intimate moments of just you and him as he worshipped your body. you had not only fucked but there was that one time in which he made love to you after he had been away on tour for a month. he touched your body as if he was memorizing every mole, scar and dip of your body, kissing every patch of skin he could as he slowly thrusted in and out of you as if trying to engrave you in his brain yet he couldn’t commit to you even if he did all that.

you knew since the beggining that you were playing a dangerous game when you had met and started messing with each other in secret, so you couldn’t blame him fully for hurting and leaving you when you wanted things to get serious.

you cried for him that night, vowing never to let anyone mess with your heart the way he did with yours. you allowed yourself to mourn him and what could’ve been before drifting off to sleep.

༝༚༝༚

a month had passed since that night, everything was getting better. you had walked for one of your dream brands in their show in paris before being flown back to korea for a cover shoot. you had managed to avoid thinking about him successfully burying yourself in your work.

you had glanced at the calendar hung on the wall in your little office where the date tomorrow was encirled with red ink with his handwriting messily scribbled beneath the date.

new album release in which you’d drool over wonwoo instead of me :(

you had avoided opening twitter to stop yourself from looking at updates from seventeen hoping for a glance of him even going as far as to download weverse to catch a live of him. yet your finger hovered over his contact on your phone wanting to call and check in on him as he was always nervous whenever he had events coming up.

“no stop that. you’re not going to make yourself available for someone who thinks your just a good fuck.” you mutter to yourself as you close your phone.

your room still had traces of him you haven’t got the guts to get rid of yet. his perfume still sits on your vanity as he sometimes stays the night and always forgets to bring his perfume with him to use which resulted in him leaving his bottle of perfume in your room. his jersey from that one gose episode hangs from the chair in the corner of the room from that time you asked him to bring you home wonwoo’s but refused to do so saying it would be weird to see you wearing wonwoo’s jersey when you were fucking him. his toothbrush is still by the sink in your ensuite and his spare clothes are still on your top drawer waiting for him to come and use them—but he won’t because he’s doing better than you are and moving on from your little situationship.

his side of the bed still smells like him despite you spraying your perfume on it. he just manages to haunt you in the solitude of your own home. you’re thinking gets interrupted by a call from an unknown number on your phone.

“hello?” you greet unsure.

breathing is the only thing heard on the other line so in your better judgement you turn the call off thinking somebody just dialled the wrong number by accident.

you shrugged it off before tossing your phone to your bed and rearranging your vanity to keep your mind busy.

ping!

a notification interrupts your rearranging seeing your phone light up as a message comes through.

open the door.

“open the door?” you read out loud as you see the text. confused as the number isn’t saved you decided to check your front door as a safety measure.

you peep through the hole in your front door to see no one there but you decided to open and check. you glanced at the hall seeing no one there but to your surprise there was a paper bag on the floor. you picked it up and placed it on your kitchen counter before locking the door behind you.

you opened the bag to find an unsealed album with wonwoo’s signature on it. confused you rummage through the bag to pull out wonwoo’s jersey from that one gose episode.

“what the hell?” you asked confused as you pulled your phone out to check the number that had texted you. it wasn’t a number saved in your phone but you had an inkling to whom it was from.

you decided to call the number to confirm your suspicions. you had waited a while before the call got answered. and boy were you ready to give them a piece of your mind.

“hello?” he answers as you pace back and forth in your kitchen holding the album in your hand.

“yes, hello to you too. what the fuck is this? why would you send me an album signed by wonwoo and his jersey from that one gose episode? are you that fucked up seungcheol?” you fumed as you waited for him to say something.

“well?” you pushed as he wasn’t answering you.

“hi, uhm, it’s not seungcheol. i’m gonna introduce myself first, my name is joshua hong. i’m seungcheol’s group member and he borrowed my phone to text you. he isn’t here right now but i’ll make sure to relay the message you had for him. also, don’t worry about me spilling your secret i’m not gonna tell anyone about the two of you. you have my word for it.” you could feel the heat build up on your cheeks in embarrassment.

“i’m sorry! i thought you were seungcheol. i probably should’ve let you talk first before i went off on you.” you apologize as you hear joshua chuckle.

“don’t worry about it, i get where you’re coming from. don’t tell cheol but you were right setting boundaries to your situation with him.”

it was nice to know joshua was on the same page with you regarding the matter.

“yeah but it may have cost me his presence in my life. well, until he had contacted me again today.” you admitted as he sighed.

“i told him he should’ve used his own number to contact you but he wouldn’t listen to me. that man honestly, he can be so dumb with things like this but is so smart in other things.”

“i was debating calling him just hours ago. i know how tense he gets with your album releases but i—“

“you wanted him to reach out to you because you already told him what you wanted out of your situation. yeah, i know. he told me about you guys a week ago.”

“he did?” you asked surprised.

you really didn’t think he’d talk about you and your situation with anyone else. truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it. seungcheol had all the time during your no-contact period to reach out but he never did so you thought he was fully over your relationship. hearing from joshua that he was talking about it with someone else somehow gave you a thought that he might actually be thinking about you still.

“he hasn’t been able to talk to anybody else about it because of the circumstances but i could tell something was troubling him so i just waited for him to open up to me without being forced to and he did eventually. i know he misses you—he hasn’t shut up about it to me,” he sighs as you pick at your nails. “he means well, y’know? he just has a lot on his shoulders being our leader and the shield that protects everyone around him but i know deep down your good for him and i know he knows it too. just hear him out please?”

“i will, thank you joshua. congratulations on your new album by the way. i’m sure you’ll be hitting the charts and winning awards for it soon enough.” you thank him as he says his thanks and ends the call leaving you to your thoughts.

your phone sits on the counter as you gathered up the courage to text him and soon enough you pressed send.

where are you? we need to talk.

༝༚༝༚

seungcheol had arrived at your door an hour later, knocking lightly on your door you might’ve thought you hadn’t heard him if you didn’t know he was coming over. you opened the door for him not bothering to look at the peephole as he shuffled quietly past you and into your living room. he glanced around the apartment seeing it was still the same way as the day he left you so suddenly. he normally felt at home but this time he felt so tiny and out of place despite all the times he used to come over. he glanced over the familiar paper bag on your kitchen counter with the album and jersey he dropped off.

he could feel your gaze at him but he avoided making eye contact with you which he used to love doing. your eyes were his favorite thing to look at—no matter what you were doing your eyes always showed how you felt despite you not saying it verbally. he would tell you how much he loved your eyes even if he was in the middle of fucking you. he’d often tell you to keep your eyes on him despite you being so fucked out yet you’d do as he asked because you loved how he looked at you. deep down he thinks he knew that the moment he started to look for you in the people he’d interact with everyday was the moment he started seeing you more than just another person he’d call to fuck—he loved you long before he had the guts to let you know and seeing you for the first time after no contact truly did things to him.

“hey.” he spoke softly as he finally looked at you for the first time in a month.

god, you looked so beautiful even if your face held no emotions as you looked at him.

“i did all the talking last time so i think it’s fair i give you this moment to air out your thoughts before i make a decision.” you answered stiffly.

he nodded in understanding as he tried to gather his thoughts together before he opened up his mouth to speak.

“truth be told, i got overwhelmed when you were insinuating that you wanted to be more than just what our set up was but that isn’t a good enough explanation for what i was feeling at that moment.”

it was true, with everything on his plate at that moment it just got suffocating for him so he left without saying anything. it was one of the most stupid thing he had ever done in his life because he wanted nothing more to say something—anything to you.

“i had so much time to think about us over the month of no contact. i learned things about me that i wish i knew the moment you confronted me about what we were and how things were going to play out for us in the long run. i want you, (y/n). i wish i told you that night that i left. i don’t want you just physically because you are so much more to me than just a body to fuck. don’t get me wrong the sex is amazing with you and i feel like i’m on another world when i get to touch you, hold you, and just be with you.” he explains as he inched closer to you.

“but i’m scared to love you. i don’t want to ruin what we have because i’ve seen other couples in our industry get destroyed just because they love each other. i know i can handle the backlash i’d received but i’d hate to be the reason you’d be getting them too—fuck, i love you. god knows when it happened but i do and i can’t stop no matter what i do to try and supress my feelings. you weren’t and aren’t just a good fuck to me—your my entire world and i’m lucky enough to be able to orbit around you like how the moon does.” he could touch your face with how close he was to you by now. the tears falling down your cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to wipe away but he didn’t still unsure about if he could touch you that way again.

“you were the first person i felt both wildly unsure and unwaveringly certain of and i kept falling for you and the little things you’d do. i missed looking into your eyes, kissing your lips when you rambled too much, playing with your hair when we cuddle after sex, the little noises you make when you lose at games, and the way i’d wake up with you in my arms when you let me stay over. i missed you so much baby. i’m so sorry i didn’t contact you sooner.” cheol could feel his voice break as you cupped his cheeks. he leaned into your touch as he caught your scent—your vanilla scented shampoo and a hint of his own perfume mixed together. he loved it.

“you’re an asshole y’know?” she spoke through her tears as she allowed him to run his fingers through her locks. “i missed you.” she peered up at him as he smiled at her.

seungcheol had gazed into her eyes—he stared at her like she was the stars in the sky and he was basking in their glow. he missed her truly and he was going to show her how much he had missed her.

his eyes glanced down on her lips before he had closed the space between them with a kiss. the kiss was full of emotions; longing, happiness, and desire. it had been the longest since he went without being able to touch her body, the longest time being a month when he was away on tour.

he doesn't know when his obsession with you started, but one look at your bambi like eyes and he was hooked. jailed and chained to nights filled with your doe eyes brimming tears and cries of pleasure. oh the sweet sounds you’d make because of him.

"you like that? hmm?" a moan escapes your lips as he palmed your soaked sleep shorts.

“yes.” you answer breathlessly as you feel him lift you up and lock your legs around his hips. gravity causing you to settle down with your cunt pressed against his hard dick.

“oh fuck.” he groaned as he felt your wet cunt slide down his dick. “i missed having you like this baby.”

he had managed to get you both into your room as quickly as he could without bumping into your stuff with his lips on yours before setting you down in your bed. he littered your thighs with kisses as he pulled your shorts down revealing you slick cunt.

“no panties tonight, hm?” he smirked as you blushed.

“you make me go insane baby.” he removed his shirt along with his bottoms bearing all himself for you to see—not that you haven’t seen it before.

cheol dipped a finger into your core, working around the sopping wet muscle to fit in a second. he never broke eye contact with you, even as you groaned at the sudden contact as his finger grazed your bundle of nerves .

"it's okay, baby. come look at me, please? look right at me. that’s it, that’s my good girl."

as his fingers began to speed up, the tension in your thighs loosened, giving him more access to the rest of you. your walls took them in with ease as you welcome the familiar sensation of his fingers being stuffed in you, the wet sucking noises beginning to fill the room along with your moans. his breath is steady as ever, as if he's breathing you through this in an effort to slow you down from getting there before he even gets to truly have his way with you the way that he intends. he hadn’t fucked you in so long—he was going to take his sweet time.

your eyes locked into his—his favourite sight ever seeing you like that, breath hitching in the back of your throat catching the soft cries of his name that you tried to utter. pulling back, cheol removed his fingers from you with a slick pop, sticking the digits into his mouth, cleaning them of your cum.

"always so sweet," he remarked, dragging his thumb across his lip, and bringing it to yours. instinctively, you began to suck on it, slowly letting the taste of your own arousal coats your tongue. you could feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh, the heat between your legs drawing him in ever closer. it was intoxicating. in all your relationship's timespan, you were never sure of the exact moment that you had started to like him at a different light, but you knew that it lay somewhere in the hours he spent buried in between your thighs as he ate you out like he had been starving for years.

"i wanna feel you," your voice was just above a whisper. interlacing your fingers, his hand much bigger than your own, his entire body appeared massive in the small slivers of light that were in the room. your hand wrapped around the base of his swollen erection, a string of curses escaping his lips as you ran your hands up and down the length, icy fingertips teasing at his prominent veins. shifting his weight and allowed your hands to guide him, lining up perfectly with your glistening slit as his head teased at the entrance a few times, positioning itself just mere centimeters from your cunt.

"i love you so much cheol—fuck." you moaned out as your fingers dug into his back.

with eyes locked onto each other, your mouth fell open as he bottomed out. it took you no time to adjust, but the shockwaves ripped through your body just the same as they always did when you were this sensitive for him. he knew that you didn't have long from the way your walls clenched around his dick. it took a few seconds of adjustment, but he nestled himself inside, lowering his head to whisper into your ear.

"i'm gonna move now, 'kay baby?"

you nodded, arms pulling him down to your chest more as his dick dragged itself against your walls. after a few soft, shallow thrusts, your nails bit into his shoulder—the signal that he could go faster. his hips began to rock more evenly, building an even pace as the sounds of your walls began to fill the room. each kiss of his tip against your soft spot gave way to a familiar, lewd squishing noise coming from your delicate hole. your whines only urged him to go a step further, nails raking down his back so hard you were sure you had begun to draw blood. his body was marred with scars, but you knew that every scar on his back had been left there by you, an ever present reminder of the sleepless nights together you two shared.

"cheol—please, please harder," you croaked. he was right where you needed him, but not giving in. he was such an tease.

"are you sure you want more?" his demeanor shifted as lust consumed him.

"i'm not gonna hold back, you know," he started.

"i missed fucking this cunt—fuck—not gonna slow down until you're shaking."

he started ramming into you even harder, each thrust jolting your body backward and further up the surface of the mattress. he was slipping, eyes beginning to lose their light even as they were still locked onto yours. you could feel his grip around your waist getting stronger, digging into you. the veins in his arms started to bulge, he was losing himself in the euphoric washes of your body. you were shaking already, clamping down on his thick cock erratically.

"not going to stop until you're so cock-drunk on me."

every dizzying motion of his hips had your blood rushing to every part of your body. the wall in your abdomen began to shatter as you could feel your own mind slip.

"cheol—it's—i'm—baby—i'm gonna—" you could barely manage getting the words out. he placed a thumb in your mouth again, giving you some semblance of comfort all the while egging you on.

curse him and his high endurance.

"go on, cum for me. cum for your cheol baby."

you yielded to him completely, body simply going limp, giving in to euphoria as your climax overwhelmed your frame. you couldn't stop yourself from letting go completely, gushing your own translucent slick over his own lower half, tilting him over the edge.

"fuck," he moaned out as he reached his own high. "here it comes—here it fucking comes..."

he kissed you through it, groaning into your mouth with his cock throbbing inside you and painting your insides with thick, milky white.

"Gotta—fuck—stuff my pretty baby so full."

and that he did.

as his own comedown presented itself, he collapsed onto you. you watched his chest rise and fall for a few seconds, assuring yourself that he was still all the way there. his head lifted, eyes meeting your watchful gaze. they were bright, admirable, and warm.

"i love you," cheol murmured into your hairline, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he had pulled you to his chest to cuddle after chasing your highs. you squirmed a bit, repositioning yourself so that you could run your fingertips up and down his chest, tracing every curvature of his skin.

"i love you too," you cooed.

prying him off you for a second, you were about to stumble in the darkness toward the bathroom only to be pulled back into his chest with his own brute strength.

"i have to pee, cheol," you laughed as he caged you in his arms.

“let me join you and get you cleaned up.”

“you and i both know that won’t happen when your in there with me.” you chuckle as you melt into his arms.

“well then…round 2?” he smiled.

༝༚༝༚

you had woken up in a state of pure bliss with your body flush against cheol’s as his arm draped over your hip keeping you close to him.

it wasn’t a dream. he was here. your cheol was here.

you traced over his features as he slept soundly. you couldn’t help yourself—he looked beautiful under the light of the morning light. you could get used to this. he stirs in his sleep as you run your fingers through his blonde locks.

“g’morning baby.” he greets voice deep and raspy from sleep.

“hi handsome.” you smile as he pulls you closer to him and pecks you on your forehead.

“i could get used to this.”

“happy album release day baby.” you greet softly as you peppered his jaw with kisses.

“thank you, did you like my gift for you?” he asked as you pull away and slap his chest.

“you’re so horny. can’t we not associate everything with sex?” you tease as he raised a brow at you.

“baby i was talking about the jersey and the album i had wonwoo sign for you.” he deadpanned as you beam in excitement.

“oh my god! i forgot about that—wait right here.” you run out of the room as cheol laughs at you.

he felt so happy seeing you so happy but he wasn’t that happy seeing you walk back into your room with just wonwoo’s jersey on.

“i think this is my new favourite top. whatcha think baby?” you smile as you twirl around to show cheol wonwoo’s name on the back of the jersey instead of his.

“mm looks good.” he answers curtly brows knitting together in annoyance.

“i know right! wonwoo’s built is so much bugger than mine that this looks like a dress on me.” you played with the hem of the jersey as you hear cheol scoff in annoyance.

“take it off baby.” he grumbles as you shake your head no.

“nu-uh, it’s really comfy.”

“baby you have my exact same jersey. just wear mine.” he points towards his jersey as you shrug.

“but wonwoo’s my bias—”

“—and yet you weren’t cumming all over his dick last night were you? come on baby just wear mine.” he butts in as you raise a brow at him.

“are you jealous mr. choi?” you tease your arms on your hips.

“me? jealous of your crush on wonwoo? no way.” he answers defensively.

“you won’t mind me wearing this around then.” you sit at the edge of the bed turning you back on cheol as you scroll through your phone.

you felt him creep up behind you as the mattress dips from his weight. his hand snakes around your throat as your pulled back into his chest a smirk playing on your lips from how he’s acting.

“you’re mine baby. so i’ll give you two options: change and wear my jersey or…” he tightens his grip on your neck as he whispers in your ear. “i fuck you so hard you won’t know anyone else’s name but mine.”

“i think i’ll keep the jersey on,” you bit your lip excitedly as you hear him chuckle from behind you.

“always such a brat. well, buckle up baby. you’re in for such an eventful day.”

let’s just say you were so cock drunk from cheol’s dick that you couldn’t walk straight for a couple hours needing his assistance throughout the day.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeenfanfic #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen seungcheol

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samsno1 · 10 months ago

Note

Just finished it and i loved it so much! could i request a part 2 to Dream Of Me..?

Dream Come True

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

IT'S HERE!!!!! okay, so many of you asked for a p.2 and it's here, finally. Thank you to everyone who left comments under Dream Of Me and now you have the second part. By the way, I think this shows my slight (huge) obsession with Sam's muscles and my lack of knowledge in blowjobs

Read "Dream Of Me" here

Summary: Sam's avoiding you, he's weird ever since he woke up and you had to question him about it sometime.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected piv (which is fake and i do not encourage), oral (m. and f. recieving), nipple sucking, fingering (sort of), marking, angsty??? maybe, kissing, cursing, use of y/n, dean is done with these two, english is not my first language, NOT PROOF READ, ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE

WC: 11.6K (shhh, don't talk about it)

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As soon as Sam arrived in the library and saw you standing there in those jeans that did wonders for your legs he immediately felt the room grow hotter. He felt like a high school boy who had just hit puberty with the way he was feeling today or as if it was the first time he dreamed with a woman in his bed – or other places for that matter. He did have feelings for you for some time, but everytime he thought about you, he thought about the sweetness of your smile or the way your laugh sounded when you were slightly drunk. Not about how loud he could make you scream his name.

Sam wasn’t innocent, and neither were you. He knew that you weren’t – he had heard, when the motel walls were too thin, the bed hitting against it and some curses of pleasure out of your mouth. And you most definitely knew he wasn’t, telling you and Dean the history he had with Ruby in excruciating detail even made you feel tingly inside.

Sam tried, badly, to be nonchalant about it around you but it was so difficult. Your plump lips moving as you explained the case, sometimes your tongue darting out to wet it, were driving him insane. He paid much more attention to the way you spoke to him with your hand on his shoulder during the drive to the case, your breath lightly hitting his face and reminding him of the hot kiss you shared in his head, your hand practically burning on his skin through his flannel. And when you finally found a motel to crash in for the time you stayed there, you started loading the gun barrels inside the boys room while Sam attempted to research and Dean was reading lore books on the small table the room had. The way you worked your fingers with your gun was so erotic without you even wanting it to be. Sam was on the verge of breaking as he stared at you, who was oblivious to his looks.

But one person that wasn’t oblivious was Dean Winchester. When he looked up from his book to Sam, ready to ask him a question, he almost immediately closed his mouth when he noticed Sam was doing anything but research. He looked at the way his brother was sitting, with an elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand, torso slightly turned in your direction, eyes trained on your hands. Dean then looked at you and was shocked that you hadn’t even acknowledged Sam’s stare. He smirked to himself as he shook his head in disbelief.

Of course Dean knew about Sam’s feelings. He got him to admit to his crush on you one night where the brothers were in a bar alone and you were in a hunt by yourself. Sam had just hung up his phone after talking to you, his slightly slurred words made you chuckle in the other end of the line and, when Sam put his phone down on the table, he wrapped one hand in his beer and sighed dreamily, staring mindlessly at his thumb that brushed the bottle left to right.

“Her laugh is so beautiful, it matches her” He murmured and Dean almost choked on his own beer, eyes widening at his brother, eyebrows furrowed. As if Sam had realized he actually said it out loud and not just thought, he looked over at Dean, face to face with his brother’s amused look. Sam just sighed disappointedly, knowing that there was no way he was escaping this, not even giving the ‘I’m just drunk!’ excuse. So, he just accepted it “Don’t tell her…”

As if all dots connected, Dean leaned back on his chair, a grin on his face as he thought about the interactions you and Sam had with each other and how it was actually quite obvious. “You like her?” Dean asked the obvious and Sam just nodded. After that, as the amazing older brother he is, Dean promised he wouldn’t utter a word to you about this and he was keeping his promise up to this day, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease the youngest about it…

“Hey Sam, have you found anything?” Dean spoke up and that seemed to wake Sam up from his trance. He cleared his throat and desperately tried to make it seem like he was concentrated fully on his assigned task.

“Um, y-yeah, all the victims died of blood loss and.. and there are bite marks…” Sam said, making you look up at him too, throwing your hair back with a movement of your head. Your hands had stopped working on the guns and you got up from the bed you were sitting, leaving the weapon behind. You walked until you were behind Sam and, using his body for support, putting your left hand over his right shoulder, you leaned in to look at the screen, confirming the information yourself.

Sam stiffened up the moment you got closer to him. With the way you were leaning in – your hand on him again – made him take a deep breath to stay put. He had his eyes glued on the laptop screen because he feared that if he glanced at you in any way he wouldn’t be able to control his most primal needs – A.K.A. avoid his sinful thoughts to take over and a boner to rise. He could feel your warmth behind him and, as you nodded and walked away, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions in his head, he finally felt like he could breathe.

“It’s clearly vampires. Thank God we didn’t have to turn libraries upside down to figure this one out” You said with a slight smile to Dean, your arms crossed in front of you. He closed his book with a thud, thankful for not having to do much more. You turned back to Sam who, at this point, had also closed his laptop and seemed lost in thought.

To get your suit in your bag – that you left over the other bed –, you had to go past Sam and, as you did, you brushed a hand over his arm and got closer to his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. You lowered your voice a little, for Dean not to hear what you were about to say, a worried frown in your face.

“Hey, are you doing okay? You seem off” You ask, slightly tilting your head, your eyes searching into his for any kind of discomfort, be it emotional or physical.

Alarms went off inside Sam’s head and, as soon as he could gather his thoughts together, he suddenly stood up, making you pull away from him and widen your eyes, startled. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and he swallowed deeply, trying to moist his dry throat.

“I’m fine” He mumbles before going to the bathroom, brushing past you in a hurry, his arm bumping against your shoulder. You stare at the shut door once he locks himself inside, mouth agape and an offended look on your face. You turn to face Dean again, questioning him with a look. Dean shrugs his shoulders and gets up from his chair.

At this point you felt kind of…hurt. You had done nothing to Sam, not that you were aware of, and your face dropped. Dean felt the need to guarantee you that it was probably nothing but even he was confused. Sam tended to long to be beside you, to touch you, or have any excuse for you to touch him. He swallowed his jealousy when you had asked Dean once to take his shirt off to care for his wounds. That day, as you stitched the gash on his brother's abdomen, Sam stared daggers at Dean, who felt the need to reassure him that you were all Sam’s, that Dean saw you as a little sister and nothing else.

This kind of avoidance towards you was weird to the point even you felt affected by it. You weren’t one to take things to the heart – you’re a hunter for fucks sake – but when it came to the boys, especially Sam, you felt worse than ever. They were often harsh, either with each other or with other people. Of course they had to be tough and mean when it came to it due to their line of work but, behind closed doors, they were the sweetest people you’ve ever met, always caring for you and one another and often sacrificing their own comfort – and sometimes their lives – so other people can sleep without worrying about what’s lurking in the night.

Still, it hurt when you became a victim of their temper and Sam being the one shutting you out this time was not only unexplainable but also like a punch to the gut. Let's say the tall, muscular and smart guy Sam Winchester was had you falling for him quickly – and, soon, harder – than you expected. He always tried to be as sweet as he could be and as understandable. He had a natural instinct to comfort the victims you guys often talked to, always the one to do the talking. You had noticed the way he approached the subject with care, especially if the victim was related to the interviewed in any way, and had taken that as a mental note. Hey, he’s good with words.

But, Sam could also be firm and assertive when it came to it. Once, while you and him were interrogating a guy who wasn’t cooperating at all with you, even when you both were disguised as FBI, Sam snapped. His big hand came with full force against the table, his palm facing down and a loud bang echoing through the small room. It startled you to the point where you jumped slightly, eyes wide as you looked at your ‘partner’. Sam was fuming. His nostrils were flared and his eyebrows were low, casting a shadow over his eyes. He slowly leaned in closer to the guy's face, a wicked grin emerging on his face.

“Look…” He started, voice low, raspy. He gently pulled his suit aside, secretly showing the man his shiny, silver gun safely resting against his hip. You watched as the dude swallowed harshly and his eyes stared at the weapon. “If you won’t cooperate with us…” Sam straightened up, holding both his hands behind his back as he started to walk until he stood beside the guy. He leaned towards his ear, the guy completely frozen. “We are going to rip the truth out of you” He whispered.

You had struggled to keep your composure. The way Sam showed his power over the man – who ended up telling both of you his side of the story after the threat – was distracting. It was safe to say you had discovered something about yourself that day. You had sat the whole ride back to the motel with your legs crossed to numb the throbbing between your thighs as you imagined Sam talking to you that way, in different settings. A cold shower was barely enough to calm you down.

The mix of all these things and other little stuff about the younger brother is what made him special to you. And, now, he was avoiding you.

You sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting beside the guns you’ve left scattered over it, facing Dean’s direction. You leaned on your knees with your elbows, holding your head with your hands, squishing your cheeks and making your pout more prominent than intended. Dean looked at you with pity.

“Did I do something? Say something?” You ask Dean, looking up at him. Dean shakes his head and sighs, getting up from the chair and walking to the mini bar. You knew exactly what he was reaching for and you stretched a hand out to grab the beer bottle once he handed it to you. You opened it easily with your hand and took three big gulps of it. Dean opened his as he sat down beside you this time, on the bed, and threw the lid over the bedside table, the material clinking against the wood.

“Nah, you didn’t do anything, he’s just in a mood” He said but it didn’t seem to help, your face still sad and your head far away, filled with the wrong thoughts. He sighed and gave you a side hug, your head laying against his shoulder. Dean rubbed his hand up and down your upper arm mindlessly to comfort you. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, you did nothing wrong, he’s just…being Sam, I’m sure this has nothing to do with you, okay? I’ll make sure to kick his ass later” He smiled.

You smiled slightly at the last part, shaking your head at the older Winchester, the typical brotherly teasing something you grew fond of.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Sam was trying to keep it together. He had never felt this way before and it was driving him crazy trying to stay away from you because, at the same time he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if anything he did or said showed his attraction – physical and emotional – towards you, he was dreading this. He longed for your closeness, for your touch, not necessarily in a sexual way, much like the one of concern you had just given him. But right now everything became sexual to him, just your hand over his arms was enough to drive goosebumps over his spine.

He washed his face with the cold water from the sink, brushing his wet hand through his hair. He breathed deeply and dried his face, ready to leave the bathroom and go back to acting as if he didn’t want to kick Dean out of the room and have you right here, right now.

Once he opened the door, he regretted it almost immediately. When he saw Dean so close he clenched his hand against the door handle, swallowing his jealousy. You weren’t his, he reminded himself, he didn’t have the right to be jealous of someone that wasn’t his. But, oh, he was. It was uncontrollable, but undeniable.

He watched Dean’s hand rub up and down your arm, your head laid over his shoulder so comfortably. He bit the inside of his cheek as he approached the both of you to place his laptop back into its case. You had noticed his presence, lifting off of Dean and looking at his side profile. He won’t even look at me. You glanced at Dean, who had also realized his brother’s behavior, and gave him a disappointed look.

You sighed through your nose and grabbed your gun to put in the waistband of your jeans. You also took your bag that you always had with you on hunts, separate from the one with your personal items, and threw it over your shoulder. Dean just stared as you got ready to leave, not stopping you. He needed some alone time with Sam to ask him what the fuck was going on.

“I’m going to the car, we can leave once you’re both ready” You said. Dean acknowledged it with an ‘Okay’ and Sam just hummed. You opened the door and left, angrily walking towards Baby.

As soon as the door closed behind you Dean got up from the bed and aggressively spun Sam around, grabbing at his shoulder.

“Hey–!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean interrupted, and an angry scowl on his face. He whisper-yelled, still worried that you might hear them. Sam gave him a confused look and Dean rolled his eyes at the stupidity of his brother. “Why are you acting like this with her?”

“Acting like what?” Sam bit back, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Stop pretending like you don’t know Sammy! Why are you ignoring Y/N all of a sudden? Weren’t you the one all” Dean raised his hands, doing quotation marks with both his index and middle fingers “‘head over heels’ for her, hm?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. He crossed his arms in front of him, slightly looking down at his brother due to the height difference. “It’s nothing” He mumbled, looking away. Images of you roamed around his head at Dean’s question and it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. He was avoiding you for your own good, you and your friendship with him.

“It’s not nothing, damn it, the girl thinks she did something. Did she? Because you sure make it look like you are angry with her” Dean kept poking at the subject, getting on Sam’s nerves. His face softened once his brother told him you felt bad. “What happened?” Dean asked again, this time a little more softly after he noticed Sam’s face drop at his words.

Sam sighed and looked around the room, nervous. He didn’t know if he should actually tell Dean about this – he’d definitely make fun of him endlessly. But still, he didn’t know if making you sad was worth it. He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was under pressure and mumbled “I had a dream”

“What?” Dean asked, not understanding whatever language his brother just spoke.

“A dream”

“Dream? What do you mean?”

“I had a dream…with Y/N”

“What do you mean a dream with–” Realization suddenly hits Dean “...Oh” and he relaxes his eyebrows, like he just made sense of everything that happened that day. Then he smirks. Smirks and starts to laugh his ass off as Sam just stands there, cheeks flushed, waiting for his brother to calm down. He knew it.

Sam started to smile slightly as his brother kept trying to talk over his laughter, his embarrassment almost gone. Once Dean finally took a few breaths, a hand on his chest as he dried his fake tears and his laughter died down with a sigh. He looked at Sam who stood there absolutely flushed.

“Man, that’s why you were taking longer in the shower than usual” Dean said with a fake disgust in his face. “Remember me to wash that bathroom twice before using”

“Shut up” Sam mumbled and looked away, suddenly deep in thought. Dean stopped joking and crossed his arms, giving Sam a silent questioning look. Sam glanced at his brother. “What?”

“This kind of still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you avoiding her?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him like he had three heads. “Shouldn’t this make you, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but, excited to be around her”

“Dean, come on, I don’t want her to think I’m a pervert and, besides, she doesn’t even like me that way” And when Sam said that, Dean’s eyeballs almost popped out of his head, his eyes widening at his brother. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, asking the Lord above – better yet, Chuck – to give him the strength to deal with Sam’s stupidity.

“Do you not see it?” He asks. Sam makes a face.

“See what?”

“Oh my God, are you blind Sammy? Or just severely oblivious?” Dean inquiries. “She’s so obviously into you it hurts to watch”

“Dean, please–”

“Don’t ‘please’ me! It’s so clear! She’s always near you when she has the chance, she always insists on helping you when you get hurt on hunts, she looks at you like you’re the last man on Earth, she always worries so much about you…”

“She does the same with you and…” Sam bit the inside of his cheek “...you guys seemed pretty cozy when I came out of the bathroom”

Dean almost hit Sam right then and there, or took one of the guns and shot him through his leg – as a warning. How could he even…?

“Are you fucking serious? That girl is like a sister to me. And why would I even flirt with her when I know you’re into the chick? I’m bad but not that bad, I ain’t stealing your girl” Dean reasures Sam.

His girl. Dean said. But you weren’t his. Sam sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, a million thoughts running through his head. He walked close to the bed and sat down, his and his brother’s guns slightly bouncing over the mattress with the added weight. He held his head in his hands, his hair falling beside his face, his elbows propped over his knees.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sam asks, helpless. Dean shakes his head.

“Talk to her, it’s as simple as that” Dean responded as if it truly was that easy. Sam thought about it. You weren’t gonna hate him for liking you and, maybe, Dean was right and you liked him too. It was a 50/50 chance between rejection and love. He weighed his options and decided in his mind.

Sam suddenly got up, startling Dean. He grabbed his gun and bag, walking around with a determined gaze. Dean accompanied his movements with his eyes, wanting to question the youngest about what conclusion he had gotten to but he was soon with a hand on the door handle and he looked back at his older brother, smiling.

“Let’s go, we have things to kill”

It was safe to say that seeing you in a suit didn’t help Sam’s mind as it roamed back to those thoughts. As said before, you looked good in absolutely anything, but boy could you absolutely tear a man apart with the way you looked. You styled your hair in a more professional way using Baby’s rear view mirror and it looked amazing, your strands glowing in the faint daylight the day had left.

You were both standing close enough so that Sam was able to smell your perfume and the scent of your hair products. It became harder to concentrate on whoever you were interviewing, his eyes wandering to stare at the back of your head, wanting to see inside your brain for any message that said ‘Hey Sam, I’m into you too!’

Dean had gone elsewhere to deal with other things regarding the case so that left you and Sam. Alone. You felt, for the first time in years that you knew Sam, awkward to be around him. On the ride to the witness’ house, you barely talked, something that rarely happened between the two of you. You thought about asking what was wrong but that didn’t work the first time so you hadn’t done it again.

Right now, you sat on the passenger seat of the Impala, staring at Sam's hands gripping the steering wheel. He had hardly looked at you throughout the whole day — or so you thought.

Sam was in an intense battle inside his head and the way you kept looking at him wasn't helping. When he left the room after talking to Dean, he thought he felt brave enough to tell you everything he wanted to but, once he saw you sitting in the backseat in all your beauty, he was reminded of why he hadn't done it before.

He looked at you in secret everytime you were distracted. The way your hips moved when you walked, the way you crossed your legs in the seat every now and then. Oh what he wouldn't give to squeeze your thighs between his fingers right now. You had your arms crossed in front of your chest and — may Sam be forgiven — but the way it made your breasts look when you did that.

He gripped his fingers against the steering wheel even tighter, grounding himself from his thoughts, his knuckles turning white. He sped up the car, unconsciously trying to get back to the motel quicker.

You looked at his side profile then, a quizzical look on your face. He still didn’t look at you.

“Sam” You called. He didn't acknowledge it entirely, his head to focused on not getting a boner at the thought of fucking you in the backseat. You inch closer to him, a hand on his shoulder, “Sam!”

“What!” He answers, dryly. You brush it off, already used to his attitude for the day.

“You don't need to go that fast, we aren't in a hurry, God damn” You huff and pull your hand away from him, sinking back down in your seat angrily.

“Okay, sorry” He mumbles. You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. A message from Dean. You take your phone and read the message. “Found a bar, don’t wait for me to get back ;)”. You chuckle and send an answer back knowing you’d probably only see him next morning. You told him to be safe – in all ways – and not drink too much. Sam looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Who’s that?”

“Madonna” You reply, sarcastically. He doesn’t say anything so you look at his face, which has an annoyed expression over it. “It’s Dean, he found a bar, told us not to wait for him”

Sam hums in acknowledgement and silence settles again, letting your mind wander over the possibilities of why Sam was acting with you this way. You were usually pretty playful, talked a lot with each other, either in the car or before you both parted ways to sleep, each in your own room. This silence, this avoidance was driving you nuts trying to figure out what happened. You felt like crying, honestly, overwhelmed with this feeling inside you. These feelings, plural. Your feelings for Sam mixed with this sickness that downed on you when you would notice he could barely say a word to you.

Lost in your head, you almost didn’t notice when Sam parked Baby in the motel's parking lot, only realizing it when the comforting hum of the engine went away. You both got out of the car, getting your bags in the trunk. You weren’t in the same room as the boys but you felt the need to talk to Sam so, when you came up behind him to his door and got inside his room, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind you, he was confused.

“Aren’t you going to–”

“What’s going on?” You asked, throat tight and heart aching, but you refused to cry. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and you stepped closer to him, standing barely two feet away from the Winchester.

“You’ve been acting cold towards me all day! All damn day. And I have no idea why.” You pressed your index against his chest accusingly, pushing him back slightly, not because you were necessarily stronger, but because you caught him off guard, your outburst was unexpected.

“I didn’t–”

“I tried, okay? I tried to figure out what I did but I…I don’t know. I tried to talk to you earlier today and you brushed me off, you seem incapable of looking at me properly, you’re cold, you’re quiet and I have no idea why so, please tell me. What’s going on?”

Your eyes were glassy and your heart was racing. Sam was speechless, he didn’t know you were feeling this way. Dean had told him, of course, but he had no idea you were actually that affected by his distancing. And to think that he only stood away because he didn’t want to make you feel bad or creeped out about his nervousness, it had the exact opposite effect. He felt his heart sink as he saw you holding back tears and his first instinct was to wrap his arms around you.

You hugged him back, thankful for some reassurance that he at least didn’t hate you, your arms wrapped around his waist and your face pressed against his chest. Sam caressed your head, your hair feeling soft under his fingers.

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N, don’t say that” He told you.

You pulled away from his chest to look at him. “Then tell me what’s wrong”

Sam sighs and closes his eyes momentarily. He had imagined this moment thousands of times, where he told you about how he felt. He couldn’t believe it would be after he ignored you because you were too hot to handle. He looked at you again, drowning in your beautiful eye color, one that he could stare for hours at its beauty. He then looked up, asking for the strength to tell you all he wanted, his throat visible to you as he swallowed his nerves.

“Actually, yeah, you kind of did something” He says, moving his hands until he was holding your upper arms, a smirk on his lips as he eyes you down. You opened your mouth, shocked, but, before you could say anything, he continued. “You drive me crazy, Y/N”

You stood still, scared to move as he talked. You were confused, lost. Hadn’t he just said you had nothing to do with this? Meanwhile, Sam just looked at you for a few seconds, silent. He took you in completely, your body still hidden under the FBI suit but he felt like he already had it memorized. He wanted to touch you, to feel you and he felt like, if he held back any longer, he could lose you. Lose you to someone who wasn’t scared of loving you. “Sam, I don’t–”

“Just– Look at you. You are one of the most amazing women I know, you’re strong, you’re smart, you– God, there’s no words that can describe just how incredible you are. You care for people more than you do for yourself and, even if that makes me angry sometimes, it just shows how big of a heart you have” He takes a breath. “You can be dying but you’d still put a bandaid on someone's scraped knee just because they asked you to, because you care.”

Sam slowly moves his hands to hold you by your neck, his rough palms hot against your skin. You had no words, you just hoped that your eyes could talk for you as you stared into his hazel ones. You had so much to say but words refused to form in your mouth. You never thought Sam would be the one to confess, hell, you never thought he even liked you that way. Hearing him say those things was like getting hit by a train of happiness. You raised your hands to wrap around his wrists, gently holding them as you prayed for him to continue.

“You’re the girl I picture to be forever in my life, if not as a lover, please let it be as a friend. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, but, at the same time, I can’t keep these feelings to myself much longer. If you don’t want me that way, it’s fine, but I need you here with me, one way or another” Sam finishes and starts searching your face for any kind of reaction. He just put his heart in your hands and it was up to you to shatter it or not. He felt his nerves on fire. He rubbed his thumb against your jawline to keep himself grounded and hold onto the comforting thought that you hadn’t pulled away from his touch.

You suddenly smiled, wide and proud. Sam seemed to relax when he saw it, a breath he didn’t know he was holding coming out of his mouth. You felt a rush of happiness go through you as you realized he wasn’t avoiding you because he was mad at you, he was avoiding you because he wanted you so bad he felt like he could make you mad. And that was so Sam. It was exactly like him to tone down his own feelings because of other people and how they might feel, even if it eats him on the inside. What felt even better is that he managed to muster up the courage to come here and tell you about everything in the most Sam way possible, in a way that made shivers run through you.

“Sam Winchester, if you don’t kiss me right now I might just–” He didn’t even let you finish, his plump lips crashing against yours in earnest. He waited months for this and there was no way he was delaying this further. Your words are swallowed down by his mouth along with a surprised gasp you let out. One of his hands went further until it held you behind your neck, his thumb still caressing your jaw as relieved breaths came out of his nose, he was so nervous he would get dumped and his heart crushed that kissing you felt better than anything he ever imagined. The dream might’ve been good but actually kissing you felt so, so much better.

Your lips were sweet and your skin felt soft, a big contrast against his rough hands from handling weapons and burning bones. Those dreams of his came to mind yet again, the thought of exploring your whole body with his mouth made him groan, opening his mouth and teasing your lips with his tongue so you’d open them. You gladly did, letting one of your hands wrap around the base of his neck, pulling him in.

He lowered one of his hands to your waist through the inside of your black suit, pulling your body flush against his, squeezing your skin through the layers of clothing, eager to feel every inch of you. You groaned at his touch, a surge of heat polling into your belly. His hands took the opportunity to explore what he could – like dream Sam did – trailing his fingers up your back and you shivered, the light touch just making your need for him bigger.

His tongue explored your mouth, the kiss growing more heated within the moment. He starts to gently take the suit off your body, sliding it against your arms without breaking the kiss. Sam thinks for the first time in the last few seconds. He thinks about all the times he imagined being able to do this and, now that he had the chance and his feelings were reciprocated, he wanted to make it as good as possible for the both of you. He pulls away, wanting to make sure that you are on board with this.

His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you, pupils dilated with desire – desire for you. Not once in your life have you thought that Sam would look at you that way – and God how much you dreamed of it. He was always much more secretive with his antics than Dean was, often keeping to himself instead of bragging about it, but you knew. You knew he was a passionate lover and the way he behaves just gives away how much of a gentleman he must be in bed.

“Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asked you, voice filled with lust and deeper than his usual. You could’ve melted right then and there as he looked between your eyes, searching for any discomfort. Instead of telling him, you decided to show Sam how bad you wanted him. You slowly walked back, dropping the suit he already had taken halfway off from your body to the ground. You didn’t take your eyes off of him and he stared intensely at you right back, attentive to what you were going to do.

Your hands slowly trailed up your body, roaming through your curves and you see Sam swallow, his fists clenching and unclenching beside him, his throat so deliciously biteable. Once your fingers arrived at the top button of your white shirt, you started to unbutton one by one, slowly. You took your time, eyes trained on his with a smirk on your lips. You were playing bold but the way he was looking at you made your knees weak. His eyes were analyzing every movement of your hands and he stood unbelievably still, like a hunter watching its prey, careful to not scare it away.

Once the last button was undone, you dropped the white clothing to the ground. You now stood in your bra, the cold of the room hitting your skin and making goosebumps rise over it. You got closer to the man again and he accompanied you with his hazel orbs, now a tone darker due to his dilated pupils and the poor lighting in the room. You took one of his hands and placed it against your bare skin, the hot touch making you sigh before grabbing him by the neck with the other hand, bringing his face closer but, instead of kissing him, you placed your mouth closer to his ear.

“I want you, Sam” You whisper in his ear and leave a kiss right below it. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, keeping as much control as he could, biting his lower lip. He groans and a ton of thoughts go through his head – you, naked below him, your attitude gone as he fucks it out of you, pleasurable moans of his name coming out of your mouth. I want you, you said. He strongly grips your hips with both hands, making you yelp, and pushes you towards the bed, manhandling you successfully. Once your back is against the mattress, Sam immediately attacks your neck, kisses and bites making you sigh his name and arch your back into him.

“You have no idea what you do to me” He mumbled against your skin. And, really, you had no clue. He had spent the whole day thinking about this exact moment. The whole day, more like the last 4 months. The months where he had the urge to smash whatever man’s head that flirted with you against a wall and kiss you right then and there, in front of everyone to show who you truly belonged to. “For ages I’ve been thinking about you like this, you are everything that I think about and it’s driving me insane. You drive me insane”

He bites you particularly harder and you moan, your hand flying to his head and tugging at his hair. “Sam!” Your plea came out pathetically needy and he pulled away from your neck to look you in the face, his strong arms caging you beneath him and making you focus solely on the grin he had displayed on his lips. He kisses your lips again, passionate and needy, a groan rippling deep in his throat.

With his lips still glued to yours, he tugged his own suit away from his body, fumbling with the clothing and throwing it away so quick you barely noticed it, loosening his tie and bringing his hands right back to your body, because now that he could touch you, there was nothing in the world that could take him away. He landed his hands on your ribs and trailed then behind your back, his fingers teasing against your bra.

He broke the kiss and with unsteady breaths close to your mouth he asked: “Can I?” as he teases his finger under the bra strap. You hummed in approval and grabbed both his cheeks, giving him a firm peck on the lips to emphasize it.

“Yes, you can, please” You say. It came out much needier than intended but Sam didn’t seem to mind. You thought he didn’t, but he did. He smiled at you, feeling pride in the thought of making you needy and, hearing your voice – that’s so assertive and strong on a daily basis – breathy and desperate, made him wonder why he hadn’t done this earlier. You looked stunning under him and no dream could ever picture what he was seeing. Your eyes hooded, mouth agape and thumbs caressing the stubble on his face, eager to touch him as much as he was to touch you. He was looking right through the gates of heaven.

He proceeded to unclasp your bra, gently taking it off of you. He does all that without taking his eyes off your face and only allows himself to look down once the undergarment was long forgotten, laying on the ground. You didn’t know what to do or where to look, turning your face from him and feeling your cheeks heat up. You, of course, had been with other men in bed and you never truly cared if they didn’t think of you above a one night stand – you didn’t think much of them either. But Sam made you feel nervous. He was being so caring up until now, contrasting against most men you’ve been with, the thought of not reciprocating it properly made you shy below him.

He was appreciating the perfection he had under him, his fingers trailing your sides affectionately when he noticed your face turning away. You were biting your lip and avoiding his piercing gaze and he raised a hand to hold your chin, slowly turning your face to look at him again. He kissed you to ease your nerves but, this time, it wasn’t lustful, it wasn’t simply a carnal need, he kissed you with love, with passion and you could feel it tearing through your soul, his feelings pouring out and painting your insides.

He pulled back again and his eyes traveled through your face as a smile painted his lips. “You’re beautiful” He says and you smile back at him widely, your heart racing in your chest. You didn’t know what to say to that so you grabbed at his loose tie that hung just below your jaw and pulled him in harshly, smashing your lips against his. The unexpected move made Sam lose his balance and you took the opportunity to change your positions, laying him back on the bed as you straddled his waist with your legs.

Sam gripped your hips as you made out, gently rolling you over him and you felt it. You felt him under you through the clothing you both still had on and a whine escaped your lips into the kisses. Sam leaves your lips to start attacking your neck, leaving hickeys and bites behind. He was holding onto the last ounce of control he had, you were just so much. Every little noise you made went straight to his cock and he couldn’t handle it anymore, you still had too much clothing on and he needed to do something about it.

Sam turned both of you over again and left your lips to stand straight in front of you. The sight of you half naked, splayed out over the bed, hair messed up, shiny spots from his saliva against your neck and collarbone was very close to the sight he’d dreamed about. But a hundred times better. Because this was real, he was touching you, kissing you, marking you and making you his.

He felt suffocated in his own clothes and he took the opportunity to take off his tie and his white shirt along the way, slowly revealing his defined body. You swallowed to try and not drool over the sight, his strong physique covered by a thin layer of sweat, the tattoo he had on his chest contrasting against his tanned torso and few scars he had here and there. Some were white, others were pink-ish – more recent – but he looked fabulous no matter what. You’d seen him shirtless before, while patching him up or when the bunker was too hot for either of the brothers but none of those situations were as intimate as this. He was half naked only for your eyes to see – as much as you were for his.

He noticed your stare and he smirked as he approached your lower belly with his mouth. You held your breath and closed your eyes as his mouth made contact with your skin. From then on, he kissed his way up, biting here and there in places only you would know if the mark was still there the next day. He kissed your own scars that were scattered through your torso softly, treating them with care because, as much as him, you had gotten hurt on hunts. Besides, he found it amazing how strong you were. He admired you and your scars were there to prove to everyone who saw you that you were a fighter.

His hands came up alongside his kisses, caressing your sides so lightly it was almost ticklish. When his mouth got to the valley of your breasts he looked up at you, a question in his eyes. He had his hands placed right below your boobs, not moving, not touching them, just there as he waited for your approval. You were burning up from the inside out, the sight was so much. His eyes pleading for you to let him touch you, his hair making a curtain around his face.

“Touch me, Sam” You whisper, knowing that even if it wasn’t loud, he could hear you. He grinned and went right into action, his hands filling themselves up with your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You let out a low moan, the little stimulation you got from his fingers finally doing something to soothe the fire inside you.

He joined with his mouth, sucking and licking deliciously at it. You flew a hand to tangle into his hair, unconsciously tugging at his roots when he lightly bit at your nipple. Sam would groan against your skin every time you would tighten your fingers in his hair and he felt like he could cum just by hearing your faint pleas and breathless whines. He continued kissing up after that, his hands still squeezing your breasts lightly.

His mouth marked your collarbones with hickeys, painting your skin with reds and purples. He nipped at your neck, sucking at your pulse point and you bucked your hips against his, the pleasure too much and too little all at once. He was taking his time with you, appreciating every second that he could get and yet you felt his desperation when he tightened his hands around your boobs once your crotch hit his.

You tugged his hair harder to bring his face close to yours and Sam complied. You smashed your lips against his, the kiss all tongue and teeth, completely desperate. Your breathing was heavy and Sam brought his hands to your back, lifting it off the bed and making your chest glue against his, your sensitive nipples grinding against his skin. You clawed your nails on his shoulders to keep yourself together, markings that looked like half moons left behind in your desperation to remind you all this was real.

You dragged your hands down his arms, nails lightly scraping over his skin, and gently guided his forearms down, his hands going along. He proceeded to rest his palms over your covered ass, groaning in your mouth when he realized what you were insinuating. You wanted more, needed more.

You pulled back from his mouth just enough so you could talk. You opened your eyes to see one of the sexiest views you’ve ever encountered. Sam’s mouth was open, unsteady breaths hitting your mouth as his eyes stared down at you. You brought a hand to his cheek and just appreciated the sight for a moment before your mouth gave him an open mouthed kiss below his jaw. You felt goosebumps down your spine when he moaned lightly at your action, his hands squeezing at your ass. You placed your mouth close to his ear and Sam closed his eyes, waiting to see what you were going to do now.

“Fuck me, Sammy, don’t hold back” You whispered and Sam’s knees almost gave out, the nickname he usually hated hearing sounding so sweet coming out of your mouth. He pulled back to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking between your mouth and your eyes. You nodded.

“Yes” Was all you had to say before he grabbed at the hem of your pants, dragging them down your legs. He distanced himself from you to kneel between your legs, face to face with your covered pussy, the only thing you were wearing now being your panties.

After discarding your pants, Sam roamed his hands slowly up your legs, from your ankles to where your hips connected to your thigh. You were clenching and unclenching your fists beside your body, holding your torso up with your elbows and looking down to see him hypnotized by your soaked underwear, his eyes glued. You were embarrassedly wet and, as Sam dragged a finger over it, grinding against your neglected clit, you bucked against his hand, whining.

“Sam…” You pleaded and he finally looked up at you. You were taking deep breaths, your chest going up and down, decorated by the marks left by his mouth and teeth. You looked stunning. “Do something”

And he does. He kisses right above your covered sex and you moan deep in your throat again, fingers gripping the sheets. Sam was feeling pride in himself. He was the one who got you like this, not any other man. He was the one you were begging for and he was the one who was going to give you everything you wanted. He wanted to worship you atom by atom of your being because that was what you deserved, he was going to treat you like the goddess you were.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and, like he was opening a present he long wished for, – which was kind of true – he takes it off so calmly you were close to combusting. When Sam finally sees you completely nude for the first time, only for his eyes to see and outside of his dirty dreams, he hums in delight. Fucking hums. He’s done for the moment he sees your cunt, wet and glistening just for him. Oh how badly he wanted this, for so, so long he wanted you like this and now he was finally fulfilling his deepest desire.

He squeezes your thighs in his hands before reaching for your sex, his middle finger collecting your wetness in his finger. You buck against his hand again, this time even more sensitive and neglected than before. And you cry out, not with tears, but a desperate sob for attention. Sam notices that and looks up at your face to see your eyebrows furrowed and a sheen of sweat in your forehead, you looked so fucked out without even him actively doing anything. He softened and caressed your sides with his hands, soothing your nerves – or trying to, at least.

“Shh, pretty girl, I’m gonna take care of you” He says “I’m just appreciating how perfect you are, taking my time with the girl of my dreams”

Your face softened and you felt your cheeks warm up even more than they already were. You bit back a smile. You felt unique at that moment, as if you were the only woman in the world as he said the sweetest words inches away from your pussy, it was almost laughable to think that one of the most romantic things you’ve ever heard was said between your legs.

Sam smiled at you and started kissing your inner thighs, so close yet so far from where you truly wanted him. He loved kissing your skin, he loved to feel you and you were keeping that in mind. He expressed his love physically rather than using words and you were just realizing it wasn’t just in bed he was like that. He always wanted to cook for you, he knew how you liked your drink, he would take care of you when you would get too drunk or when you were hurt or not feeling great. He hugged you, kissed the top of your head, pranked you. He gave you his jacket when you were cold or for you to use as a pillow when you were sleeping on a longer ride. He protected you, even if he knew you didn’t need it, either literally, putting his body in front of yours when someone or something threatened you, or not letting you go alone on hunts – including this one, where you had offered to go alone to questioning and, even if he was technically avoiding you, he wasn’t going to let you go solo.

Sam had loved you for so long and you were oblivious. Were. Because now he was digging his fingers in your thighs, mouth closing over your clit and you were arching your back. His stubble scratched your inner thighs, adding more to the building pleasure in your belly. He sucked at your cunt so skillfully that you wondered how long you would last like this and how much he had practiced to have a mouth that was able to do that. He moved his hands to your ass again, bringing your hips up and burying his face deeper into your heat.

He felt like he could die happy between your thighs because he wasn’t leaving there anytime soon. You were delicious and he was drinking in your noises like a drug, getting high off his lust and your taste. He hummed and groaned against your pussy, his cock pulsing so bad it practically hurt, almost cumming in his pants just from this.

“Sam– Oh God, please, please, plea–se” You cried out, the pleasure almost too much, the foreplay making you sensitive to a level you felt everything ten times harder. Sam knew exactly what he did to you, it was like he edged you consciously, knowing you’d beg for him louder once he finally got to touching you. And damn him because it worked, you were a moaning mess and he would be lying if it didn’t stroke his ego to hear you plead for him, submitting to his ministrations so quickly, it was adorable.

He was eating you out with everything he had, digging his nails on your skin. You were soon close to the edge, tightening your thighs around his head so he would not pull away. Everything around you consisted only of him, his scent, his noises, his body, him. It was overwhelming and, with a loud cry of his name, you came, hard.

The room went out of focus, your eyes rolling back in pure pleasure. You had trapped Sam’s head between your legs and he hadn’t stopped. He kept licking you clean, completely lost in your pussy. He could stay like that forever, until his jaw went sore, just so that he could hear you over and over again while he’s nose deep into your cunt. He only comes back to the real world – the one that doesn’t consist in an infinite loop of your voice moaning his name – when you pull at his hair and your thighs open space to let him get up.

“T’much Sammy'' You say, breathless. You bring him up from your cunt, and look at his face, glistening with your juices, a giddy smile on his lips – like a kid who just got a truckload of candy dumped at their house – and cheeks red from the heat. You smile back at him and giggle. Who would’ve thought that he would make you cry for him to touch you and, minutes later, you’d be laughing at his mischievous grin from making you cum.

You brought him back up with a hand behind his neck and he gladly crawled on the bed until he was face to face with you again, his hands supporting his upper body so he wouldn’t crush you. You looked at him for a few seconds, a look that you intended to fill with love and care and he reciprocated, his head angling 45° with a gentle smile that made him look absolutely adorable. You put a strand of his hair behind his ear, which proved useless as it fell right back to curtain his face, his hair being too straight and too soft to hold up like that. You chuckled lightly and pulled him in for a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the saltiness making you hum in his mouth. The kiss grew heated fast and you started to roam your hands over his chest, his muscles tensing under your light palms. You explored his body as much as he did to yours, caressing over every visible muscle he had – which, honestly, was a lot. When you got to his abs, Sam broke the kiss to let out a shaky breath. He gently grabbed your wrists and kneeled on the bed, his body now in its full glory above you, the lightning in the room making his body even more defined.

With your wrists in his hand, Sam dragged your palms, that were flattened against his skin, lower. And lower. Until you were touching the hem of his pants that he still, incredibly, had on. You stared at the bulge he had right below, swallowing thickly and letting out a deep breath, your cunt clenching in response. He looked big. You should have an idea, Sam was 6’4, of course it would be proportional to his height but God if it didn’t make you think about swallowing him down, the tip hitting the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as he fucked your face.

“Want me to take them off?” You hear his voice, snapping you out of your fantasies. You looked up at him and down again. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and, on cue, Sam let go of your wrists. You slowly brought his pants and underwear down at the same time, too eager to keep up the foreplay and too desperate to tease.

When you finally see it, an audible groan reverbates in the back of your throat. Sam moans lowly, the pain from the constriction caused by his boxers and pants finally going away and making him even more aware of the neglect his dick got up til now. He watches your reaction carefully and, one of the first things you do is throw your legs back, standing on your knees, one hand supporting your body as the other stops midway to his dick. Sam felt his whole body burn with need. God what did he do to deserve you.

You were on all fours in front of him, head inches from his cock, eyes now looking up at him with a question. You felt like if you opened your mouth you would drool, you needed him inside it and you were silently asking him if it was okay.

Sam angled his torso to bring his face closer to yours, grabbing your chin with his hand and giving you a firm peck on the lips. “Do it, beautiful” He whispered against your mouth and straightened up again and you confirmed with a nod before wrapping your hand around his dick.

Sam breathed out when you started to pump him, your hand doing light movements. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of your name, a silent plea and you gladly listened. You wrapped your mouth around the tip, just the tip for now, and circled your tongue around it, the salty taste of precum invading your mouth. Sam’s hand instantly flew to your head, encouraging you to take him deeper, but not forcing you. Still, you started to relax your throat and took as much of him as you could, hollowing your cheeks.

“Y/N, baby, Jesus” Sam sighed and your insides tingled. You took what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hand, squeezing and pumping using your spit as lube. You could feel Sam holding back, his hips stuttering every now and again. You braced yourself, deciding to give him more, and placed your hands on his thighs, tapping it twice with your index finger. Sam looked down at you, swallowing his breathy groans. He damn near came just by looking at you, those beautiful eyes staring up at him, your mouth wrapped around his dick. He concentrated, remembering the silent message you sent him.

“I don’t want to hurt you” He said and you did your best to shake your head no in your conditions. You won’t. And emphasized it by squeezing his thighs and pushing your head forward. Sam sighed and nodded. “Okay, but if it’s too much, tap three times, get it doll?” He asked. The nickname made you shiver, his voice sounding so sweet calling you that. Brushing it off you tapped his thigh three times, just for him to know you understood what he said.

Sam started to rock his hips back and forth slowly, using your mouth for his pleasure. All you did was relax your throat as much as you could and breathe through your nose. He started to quicken up within time, losing his control as his release came closer. He was grunting and moaning and all his noises went straight to your pussy. He let out sighs of your name, his head thrown back and his neck glistening with sweat, his Adam's apple bobbing everytime he swallowed.

Too enamored by his noises, you lost focus and gagged on his cock, tears stinging your eyes. Sam loudly moaned your name at that, hips faltering as he tugged at your head to take your mouth off his cock. His breathing was heavy and his mouth was dry and he stood face to face with you to kiss your lips again, moaning inside your mouth. You were a bit disappointed that he hadn’t cum but you swallowed his whines gladly with your mouth, clasping your hands on each one of his cheeks. He pulled away and caressed a thumb over your lips.

“What have you got in that mouth of yours sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk and you bit your lip.

“Says the one who was eating me out like a starved man” You replied, wrapping one arm around his neck as your index finger traced his lips before giving them a peck, smiling once you pulled away. He smiled at you before wrapping his arms around your waist, like he would in a hug, and throwing you back. You shrieked as you landed on your back and Sam laid practically on top of you, attacking your face with tiny kisses, making you laugh under him.

Once he stopped, he just stared down at you. “Hi” He said.

“Hi” You whispered back after your laugh died down.

“Did I already tell you you’re beautiful?”

“Once…twice”

“You’re beautiful” He said, again “I’ll never stop telling you that”

“I can deal with it” You teased and he chuckled, going right back to kissing you.

Sam was one of a kind. You had taken some time to truly understand why you had fallen in love with him in the first place but there was not just one thing that made Sam Winchester special, everything he did just added up. From the huge things to the tiny details, he just was so easy to fall in love with and these moments were definitely one of those in the list, in which, no matter the situation, good or bad, Sam could make you smile.

As he kissed you now, his hands roamed your body like he had done before until two of his fingers teased at your entrance and you rolled your hips against his hand. Blowing him had made you aroused again and you could feel your wetness coating his fingers. Sam smirked in your mouth before slowly inserting his middle and ring finger inside your wetness. Your mouth left his to let out a moan, your foreheads glued.

Sam opened his eyes to watch your expression as he hooked his fingers inside you. You whined, your eyebrows furrowed and your nails left angry red trails over his shoulders. He lowered his head to kiss your neck open mouthed. He started to scissor his fingers inside you, preparing for what you knew was coming and you gladly relaxed around his fingers, grinding your cunt on his digits.

“Sweetheart, I need to be inside you, I need you” He whispered in your ear and you whined at the thought, nodding in approval.

“Yes, Sammy, please” You breathlessly said. Sam took his fingers out from your hole and you held back a complaint from the emptiness once you saw him pumping his hardened cock with the hand he used his fingers to prepare you, lubricating himself with your juices. He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you again.

He wanted to watch you as he sunk himself into your heat and that’s what he did. He slowly started to enter you and your mouth opened in a silent moan at the stretch. He was filling you up deliciously well, right in the division between pain and pleasure and, the deeper he went, the harder your nails dug on his shoulders.

Sam was also struggling. Your tightness enveloped him in a way no one had ever done before and it felt so fucking good to bury himself inside you. He started to distract you from the possible painful stretch with kisses over your collarbones and neck, focusing on relaxing your body so he could make love to you properly.

At last, you felt his pelvis connect with yours and you were so amazingly full. His dick hit places inside you you could never reach alone and it felt incredible.

Once you were used to his size and craving more, you rolled your hips against his, making Sam suck in a breath. He was trying to keep his composure but he was holding on his last ounces of control and when you moved he damn nearly lost it.

“You can move” You whisper and Sam wastes no time fulfilling your request, immediately starting to pump into you. He was euphoric, his mind was blurry as only images of you naked under him and begging for him to fuck you went through his head. You would tighten your walls around him from time to time and that would cause his breathing to falter and his hips to stutter.

You weren’t much different, every buck of his hips would hit you in a spot that made you see starts. You were already overstimulated from his previous ministrations so you knew you weren’t going to last long and, from the way Sam was twitching inside you, you knew he wasn’t going to either.

“Sam, I’m s’close” You moaned close to his ear.

“Me too, baby” He said as he brought his hand to press over your lower belly. You nearly screamed as he did that, you could feel him even better, his shape feeling like it was being permanently molded inside you. Along with it, he reached a thumb to rub over your clit – his big hands be damned – and at that you finally went over the edge with a desperate cry of his name.

Your vision blurred as the only thing you knew was real was the feeling of emptiness since Sam was chasing his own release after leaving your warmth. He pumped his cock a few times and proceeded to cum over your belly, painting your skin with his liquids. You were spread out on the bed for a while longer after that, Sam panting above you, his softening dick still in his hand and you completely fucked out with a lazy smile on your face.

Once that high passed, Sam took you to the bathroom – bridal style – and cleaned you up in the bathtub with warm water and gave you the privacy you needed after he sorted himself out too, leaving the bathroom on his boxers.

You took your time, using the toilet so as to not get any infections and leaving the bathroom completely naked, too lazy to actually put clothes on. You just wanted to sleep beside Sam and wake up happy in his arms.

He saw you coming out of the room and smiled, eyeing you up and down.

“No clothes?” He asked

“Unless you’re uncomfortable, I think we’re past that” You joked and he shook his head.

“I don’t mind, come here” He said, opening an arm to invite you to lay over his chest and you gladly did, jumping on the bed and wrapping your arms around his torso, laying your head on his firm chest. Sam covered both of you with the white sheets, hiding your exposed body under them. You laid silent for a moment, just drowning in each other's company as you listened to his steady heartbeat.

Sam caressed your upper arm, his mind running with a thousand thoughts in which a thousand and one consisted of you.

“Hey, want to know something?” Sam asked. He was taking advantage of the situation because now he was confident enough to do so, and he wasn’t delaying this any further if his mind would allow him. You lazily looked up at him, your chin now resting on him. Your eyes stared at him with so much appreciation that he felt even more encouraged to tell you what he wanted to.

“I think I love you” He blurted out. You felt your face warm up and smiled widely, but didn’t lose the opportunity to tease him for his choice of words.

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow. Sam panicked inside.

“No, I mean that–”

“I think I love you too” You interrupted before he could say anything else, your giddy smile never faltering. Sam relaxed and pulled you in for a kiss to seal this promise.

Who would’ve thought that Sam would have his dream come true at the end of everything. Yet, here you were, half-asleep in his arms after you admitted your love for each other.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. XoXo

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agreeeeeeeeeee · 2 months ago

Text

The Tortured Fangirl's Department - My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

| Paul Lahote x human!reader

summary: Paul hates you, but imprinted on you. He's not happy about it. 🐺🌲⛰️🌧️

cw: violence, gore, toxic relationship, Paul being an asshole, drinking

an: forever #teampaul.

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You arrived in Forks on a research grant, studying Old Wood Forests for your Masters Degree in Environmental Science. As you conduct your research, you feel more and more at home in Washington, and immerse yourself in the local community and history.

The more you learn about the history of the Quileute Tribe and it's connection to the surrounding ecosystem, the more you dig, until eventually you uncover a secret never meant for human eyes.

The Quileutes are a pack of werewolves, living in secret on the Reservation.

Of course, they quickly figure out that you're onto them, and you're dragged into a harrowing trial with Chief Billy Black and the pack’s alpha, Sam Uley. After hours of deliberation, and you begging for your life, they decide to allow you to live on one condition: you remain in Forks and never publish what you've found.

You agree instantly, grateful to be spared, and the pack brings you into the inner circle, including putting you up in a small house on the edge of La Push.

All seems to have worked out swimmingly, until Emily invites you to the alpha’s home for a bonfire so you can formally meet everyone.

Paul Lahote was livid when he learned that Sam had spared you. An outsider, a traitor. If it was up to him, you would have long ago been forest food, their secrets safe within the soil.

Paul had never met you, but he didn't trust you, didn't like the way you weaseled yourself into his beloved family. You were good as dead, as far as he was concerned.

That is, until he walks into Emily's kitchen, finding you peeling potatoes at the table, laughing at some joke Embry told, and his world imploded.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Six months later

Whoever said imprinting was the world's greatest blessing was full of fucking shit.

Paul glared at you across the fire, nibbling on a s’more and nursing a beer as if you fucking belonged here. Those were his beers. The packs s'mores.

What he would really like to know, is where you got the fucking audacity.

“Think louder, would’ya?” Jacob teased, knocking his shoulder. “She figured out what was making the fern grove sick, she deserves a beer.”

Paul rolled his eyes, throwing back the rest of his beer and stomping off to the booze table. Who cares about fucking plants, anyways?

You flicked your h/c hair over your shoulder, the glossy waves reflecting the orange firelight. Seth cracked some lame joke and you burst out laughing, the sound like the first spring rain.

Pain bloomed in chest, an ache he felt to the marrow, and he had to grip the table to stay upright, had to look away from your pretty smile. A war waged within him. Make you laugh again, or ensure it's your final one?

The table cracked under his grip.

“Lahote,” Sam warned in his mind. “Easy.”

Paul eased his grip, tried to control his breathing, his anger. He'd worked so hard on managing his rage, he wouldn't let you ruin that progress.

You'd already ruined everything else in his life.

Carefully, he stepped away, ensuring the table wasn't about to collapse before sitting back down beside Jacob with a fresh beer. He should just go inside, or out on a patrol. Anything but sit here and suffer your existence.

But something rooted him to the log, periodically scanning the perimeter behind you to ensure nothing pale and sparkly lurked in the shadows.

If anything would have the pleasure of ending your little existence, it would be him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul seemed extra scowly tonight, his handsome face pinched in perpetual disdain.

You laughed a little louder at Seth's decidedly not funny impersonation of Sam, just to see Paul's frown deepen. And it did, his ire as predictable as a clock.

You knew he had imprinted on you, everyone within a ten miles radius knew he imprinted on you, but somehow, it only seemed to deepen his loathing.

If only they'd seen his face when he first saw you.

It was probably cruel of you to exploit his involuntary affliction, but you just couldn't help yourself. He just made it so easy. And it didn't help that he was hot as fuck when the claws came out.

You polished off your beer, enjoying the gentle buzz humming in your veins. A terrible, wicked idea popped into your head.

Moving towards the table, you snagged a bottle of whiskey, the one you happened to know was Paul's favorite, and poured yourself a micro shot. His dark eyes were already on you, glaring a hole into your back. Fighting a smirk, you slammed the shot back. You let out a small, deliberate moan as the alcohol burned its way through the chill lingering on your skin.

Every unpaired wolf perked up a bit at the sound, those whores, and you could practically feel the rage buffeting off Paul as he stared at you.

“You have a deathwish, girl.” Leah teased, offering you another shot. “I like it.”

You grinned up at her, accepting the liquor. Leah flinched then, her smile pulling into a grimace, and she took the shot back before you could drink it.

“You might have a deathwish, but I sure don't.” She swallowed the shot herself, patted you sympathetically on the shoulder, and returned to her spot by Seth.

The rest of the night, the pack continued to snatch drinks from you. You couldn't even sneak a sip, with their ridiculous hearing and sense of smell catching you as soon as the alcohol touched your lips.

Even Seth slapped a shot out of your hand.

“What the fuck!” You shouted at him, your buzz very nearly gone.

Seth winced. “His orders,” he said, tilting his head towards Paul, who was busy tearing into a turkey leg.

I think the fuck not.

You marched over to him, snatched his sweating, unopened can of beer off the table, and jammed your pocket knife into it. With a crack, you opened it and pressed your mouth to the hole, shot-gunning it in ten seconds flat.

A personal record.

As soon as you dropped the empty can onto the ground, you regretted all of your life choices.

Paul was on you before you had a chance to step backwards, one massive hand around your throat, the other gripping your pocket knife.

Terror lanced through you, and you watched his pupils dilate as he started down you, white teeth bared. It took you a moment to register that you could still breathe, that he wasn't actually hurting you. In fact, he'd been handling that poor turkey leg more roughly that he was currently holding you.

“Leah was right,” he growled, the sound raising the hair on your arms. “You do have a deathwish.”

“You don't get to control what I can and can't do,” you bit back, pushing your face closer to his to prove that you weren't afraid.

Even though you definitely were afraid, and a little aroused. But mostly afraid.

His nostrils flared when a pulse of desire made your pussy clench, but you couldn't find it in yourself to embarrassed. You knew you turned him on too. And it didn't help that your bodies fit together too right, a jagged pair of puzzle pieces.

“Paul, back off,” Sam ordered. The pack was frozen around you, afraid that one wrong move would result in you losing your throat.

Paul squeezed a little tighter, letting you feel the power he had in this moment. It would be nothing for him to crush your windpipe, to snap your neck.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath tickling the hair around your ear. “I think I can,” he whispered.

He took a step back, and as soon as his hand fell away, Jacob tackled him in his wolf form, creating several feet of space between you.

Paul shifted then, his grey wolf exploding from within, and knocked Jacob backwards. They began to fight in earnest, growling and gnashing as they tumbled through the grass.

Guilt killed the last dregs of your buzz, and your ego. Why did you have to push him? Nothing good could come of it, and it only made him hate you more.

You took off towards your house before the fighting could get any worse, kicking yourself for being so fucking stupid.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Y/n didn't come around for two weeks after that, except to go the store or the library. Paul would know, your house was his first and last stop on every perimeter check.

He'd been visiting even more the last week or so, your absence an unbearable itch under his skin. It was like missing a front tooth, a constant distraction, and he couldn't not prod at it, even though it hurt.

The feeling of your fluttering pulse beneath his fingers became the rhythm of his life. It was burned into his memory, the way you looked up at him, eyes round with fear, the smell of your arousal reaching like hands to squeeze his brain, lulling the beast in his mind to docility.

Every time he looked at you, he saw his forever. A forever of home cooked meals, laughter, warmth. A life that was stolen from him. A life he didn't deserve.

He refused to be domesticated. Especially not by a nosy, manipulative, stubborn little human like you.

It was better you stayed away. That was what he wanted this entire time. Wasn't it?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You couldn't not attend Jacobs birthday party, no matter how badly you wanted to avoid a certain dagger-eyed dime piece.

So you put on a bikini, wide-leg jeans, and an oversized quarter zip, and made your way to the beach. God knows why he wanted to have a bonfire on the beach in fucking October, but it's not like they got cold.

You and Emily would have to stick it out together. Hopefully Sam was considerate enough to pack a blanket.

Everyone was already on the beach, splashing in the frozen water or chatting around the fire. Seth spotted you first.

“Y/n!” He shouted, bounding over to you, shirtless and sandy.

“Are you insane?” You laughed. “It's like 40 degrees!”

“Aw, c’mere.” He wrapped you up in a bear hug, the heat of his skin chasing away the chill already biting through your clothes.

You buried your nose into his shoulder, the tip already numb. “Fuck you guys, seriously,” you mumbled.

Suddenly, Seth was wrenched away from you and you stumbled forward, into a tan brick wall of muscle.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Paul snapped, righting you on the uneven sand before quickly dropping his hands.

“My house?” You answered, quirking an eyebrow. Rarely did he ever address you this directly. Your pulse raced in your chest, terrified, thrilled to see him again. Did he miss me?

“Why?” He demanded.

You couldn't answer him. What were you supposed to say, that you were hiding from him? That you were embarrassed by your own desperation to be close to him? That you craved his attention, his touch, even if it was rough?

At every interaction, he broke you a little bit more. Left you rougher around the edges. But a part of you loved it, craved it. His passion made you feel alive.

“Got sick of your fucking attitude,” you said instead. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to say hello to the birthday boy.” You pushed past him, trudging through the sand to Jacob, who was watching from the edge of the water with a bewildered expression.

You shirked your clothes as you went, not caring about the cold any more. Your loathing, your hunger, would keep you warm.

Down to your cherry red bikini, you threw your arms around Jacobs neck, pressing a loud, smacking kiss into his cheek. “Happy birthday, Jake!”

He kept his arms wide, chuckling nervously. “Thanks, y/n. I think the water is a little cold for you—”

“Don't care!” You sing-songed, releasing him and wading deeper into the water. It was definitely too cold for you, the bones in your feet already aching and tingly.

“Just don't get your hair wet—”

You dove into the water, the temperature knocking the air from your lungs, making your whole body clench in aversion. You popped up on the other side, splashing an arc of water at him. “I'll live,” you replied.

He shrugged, splashing you back, and you played in the water with other wolves until your lips started to turn blue, your body shivering too hard to stand upright.

“Y/n, out of the water!” Sam shouted from the shore.

“B-b-but I'm h-hav-ving f-f-f-fun!”

“Now.”

“I'm f-f-fin-n-ne!”

Suddenly, you were airborne, strong arms scooping you up out of the water with a thick blanket. You yelped in surprise, looking up to see Paul, still dressed despite being waist-deep in the water, bundling you into his chest with the blanket wrapped around you.

“H-hey!” You protested, a violent shiver making your teeth clack together.

“Another word and I'll drown you,” he snapped, tucking your toes against his scalding hot ribs as he carried you out of the water.

“F-f-fuck y-y-ou!”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul held you close to his chest, your body shaking so hard it was difficult to keep the quilt tucked around you. Your lips were far too blue for his liking, and your teeth were chattering so hard he feared they might crack.

Jacob should have never let you get into that water—no, you weren't Jacob’s responsibility. You were his, as loath as he was to admit it.

You curled into him, the tip of your nose an icecube against his clavicle. “S-s-sorry,” you mumbled.

He looked down at you, shocked.

“For almost killing yourself? Why would I give a shit?”

You fell quiet again, and guilt stabbed him through the chest. He heard your heart rate begin to slow, the cold still taking it's toll. You were so frozen, steam was rising from his skin where you touched, leaving a trail as he carried you to the fire.

He set you down on a pile of blankets as close as he could get to the fire without burning your eyelashes off. He wrapped you up in a dry quilt, then another, and planted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his legs on either side of yours.

“W-what are you—”

“Not a word,” he growled. You were still shivering, your familiar scent tinged with salt water and traces of Jacob and Seth.

He fought against the jealous rage that stirred in stomach, instead focusing on your heart rate, your unsteady breathing.

The pack circled nervously, unsure if they should intervene. When Seth came a little too close, mumbling something about your clothes, Paul growled, a low, menacing rumble from his chest, and Seth scampered off.

The scent of fear spiked when he growled, and he found himself shushing you, burying his head into the blankets against the back of your neck. It was involuntary, acting on the urge to comfort you before he'd even processed it. But it seemed to settle you, so he remained.

It settled him too, the now rhythmic thump of your heart, your even, almost drowsy breathing.

“Can Emily give her a drink?” Sam asked a little while later through the mind connection, almost at a whisper so Paul didn't startle.

“Yes,” Paul answered, and a few moments later, Emily appeared, passing a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

The chocolatey smell mixed with your scent was almost too much, so sweet and decadent. He was beginning to melt like the giant marshmallow on top.

“Hey,” you whispered after a few sips, your voice back to normal

He didn't correct you for speaking, his eyes closed as he wallowed in your scent like a dog in the mud.

“Paul.”

“Hm?” He grunted, lifting his head.

“I'm starting to sweat.”

Reality rushed back to him, shattering the haze in him mind. What the fuck was he doing? You fooled him, just like you fooled the rest of them.

He wrenched away from you, springing to his feet. Your scent was all over him, embedded in his skin, his hair. Driving him insane. You drove him fucking insane.

“Paul, wait.” You scrambled to your feet, dropping one of the blankets, flashing him a glimpse of your little bikini as you reached for him. Fuck, how did he forget your were in a bikini?

“Fuck off, y/n,” he snarled, and you staggered back.

“But—”

“The only reason I pulled you out of that fucking water because of you die, I do to. I don't fucking care about you, imprint or not. You mean nothing to me. You're better off getting that through your thick fucking skull.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, brutal and scathing, and he watched your heart break.

Maybe if he left you in a pile of broken parts on the fucking floor, he'd finally be rid of you.

The wolf came then, shredding the last of his humanity, and he took off into the woods, diving through bushes and trees to scrape your scent off his fur.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul left you there, broken on the beach. Sam and Embry followed him into the woods, but the others descended on you, concern clear of their faces.

But you shrugged them off and let Emily, Emily only, walk you home.

You cried yourself to sleep, confused, hurt, angry, devastated. You'd felt something when he held you, like he was holding all of your pieces together, whole for the first time in your life, only to smash you apart again.

You didn't understand, couldn't understand, what he was feeling. Why he was so against this connection that was between you. It's not like he could escape it. The imprint wouldn't magically vanish.

You were tethered together, for better or worse.

For the next several weeks, he avoided you like the plague. If you entered the same room as him, he would leave it. If you walked through town, he'd disappear into the woods.

This place you'd fallen in love with was starting to feel like a prison. Both of you were trapped here, orbiting each other like hostile satellites.

Late one night, you were having a glass of wine at Emily's when frantic voices floated through the open window.

Emily was immediately on her feet, rummaging through cupboards, starting a boiling pot of water. A moment later Sam burst through the door.

“Lahote got shot,” he said to her, then ripped the tablecloth off the tables, sending your wine and the dishes flying.

Your heart dropped through the floor. “What—”

“Where?” Emily said, setting her first aid kit on the counter and starting to rip up some bandages.

“Wait—”

“His side, he can't shift back. Y/n, he—”

The others burst into the room next, four of them carrying an enormous gray wolf on their shoulders. Paul.

“Here, set him here.” Emily gestured to the table, and they slowly eased him onto it. “Oh, God,” Emily hissed, turning to grab more bandages.

Jacob grabbed you before you could get closer. “Don’t, y/n,” he said, his hands covered in blood.

Paul's breath was coming out in broken whines, his entire left side slick with dark blood.

“Why can't he shift?” You asked, panic rising in your throat, choking you.

Jacob didn't answer, his face twisted in pain.

Understanding dawned. If Paul shifted, he would die.

You shoved past Jacob, catching him by surprise, and rushed to Paul's giant head, his eyes pinched shut, muzzle stained with gore.

“Paul,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his head the best you could considering it was the size of your torso, digging your fingers into his thick fur. He was colder than he should be, his heartbeat sluggish.

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, you shouldn't. He might hurt you when Em—”

You shook the alpha off, clinging tighter to Paul's fur, breathing in his pine-tinged scent. “I don't care.”

Emily returned with an amber bottle, passing it to you. “Four drops on his tongue. No more.” And she set to laying out her supplies.

You looked at the label. Morphine.

“Paul, baby, I need you to open your mouth for me,” you asked, stroking his cheek. “Please, it'll make the pain go away.”

His eyes fluttered open, the richest mahogany, and locked onto your face.

“Please,” you asked again, a tear snaking down your cheek.

His mouth cracked open, revealing the torn, bloody muscle inside.

“That's good, love. Just like that.” You dropped four clear pearls of medicine onto his tongue. “Good boy, thank you.” You gently closed his mouth again, his eyes still firmly locked on you, even as his eyelids began to drop.

You went to pull away and set the medicine on the counter when he loosed a heart-wrenching whine, his whole body shifting on the table.

“Shit! Hold him,” Emily ordered, but he bucked them off again, staring at you.

Realizing, you dropped the medicine and rushed back over to him, throwing an arm over his neck and burying your face in the dense scruff at the base of his throat.

He immediately settled, tilting his chin down to rest against you, his nose pressed into your shoulder.

“I'm going to start removing the bullet,” Emily said to no one in particular. “If he starts to get aggressive, I want her out of here.”

The pack nodded, tightening their grips around him.

His body had just started to go lax form the morphine when Emily started digging for the bullet. You felt him tense, but he held perfectly still, almost trembling with effort.

The pack looked at one another, clearly surprised.

“He can't sit still for a splinter,” Sam muses, eyeing the two of you with a quirked brow.

“Got it!” Emily said, holding the pliers in the air, a crimson hollow point pinched in the end of them. “Less then two inches from his heart,” she said, dropping the bullet into the sink with a clatter.

Paul huffed against your neck, his body relaxing again.

You stroked his head, trying to soothe him. “You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright. Just a few stitches and you'll be able to heal on your own,” you whispered in his ear, even though you knew the rest of the could hear you.

Emily poured alcohol into the wound, and he bucked, a vicious growl ripping from his throat. Jacob yanked you backwards before Paul's fangs found you, Sam grabbing Emily as Paul roared.

“Outside!” Sam ordered, looking at Jacob. Jacob nodded and hauled you out into the cold, shutting the door behind you both.

“No, I need to be in there!” You shouted, fighting against him.

“Paul told us to take you out of there!” Jacob yelled back, and you stumbled away, stunned. “Right after he got shot, he said to make sure you weren't there. And he screamed ‘get her the fuck out of here' just now.”

“But—” You felt your knees sag. You thought for sure he was asking you to come closer…

“You saw what happened to Emily,” Jacob murmured, and you snapped your head back towards him. “Paul wouldn't survive doing that to you, y/n.”

You stared at him, tears in your eyes.

“He hates hurting you. But in his mind, it's the only way to keep you safe.”

“From what?” You cried, frustrated, heartbroken. Another agonized howl rips through the still November air.

“All of this! Us! Him!” Jacob threw his arms out. “When you discovered us, you trapped yourself. When he imprinted on you, he trapped you further.”

“But I want to be here!” You shouted back, voice echoing off the pines. “I want this.” Tears clogged your throat, the anger draining out of you. “I want him.”

Seth opened the front door, the warm light a halo around him. “He's out cold, but shifted back. He's going to be okay.”

You ran up the stairs and into the house. Paul, human Paul, was stretched across the table, a blanket tossed over his lower half. Emily was bandaging his ribs, a thick pad of gauze just to the left of his sternum.

“He's fine,” Emily said, sensing you hovering in the doorway. “A few days of rest and he'll be as growly as ever.”

“You should go home, y/n,” Sam said. “He doesn't need any stress right now.”

Stress. Was that all you were?

You nodded and grabbed your coat hanging by the door, feeling like you'd been shot yourself. Jacob offered to walk you home, but you declined.

You'd had enough for werewolves for a lifetime.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When Paul woke up, he was alone in his room, the curtains drawn. Memories of that night rushed back to him, the agony, the searing rip of the bullet, your hands in his fur, soft voice in his ear.

“You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright.”

“Paul?” Sam cracked the door open. “You alright?”

“Where is she?” He asked, tugging on a pair of sweatpants.

“Paul—”

He didn't need to ask again, he could feel you through the imprint, his little shadow.

“Lahote, wait—” Sam grabbed him when he went to leave the room.

“What?” He snapped, the need to see you like a beast in his chest.

“She’s leaving.”

Paul's heart stopped. “She..what?”

“She's packing now. Chief said she was free to go if she burned her notes.”

He missed the last part, already running out of the house and into the street. He ran barefoot across town, ignoring everyone shouting from him, both outside and in his head.

Finally, he saw your little house at the edge of the beach, your car in the driveway, trunk open and piled with boxes.

No, no, no, no.

He vaulted over your stairs, barreling through the door.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your front door slammed open, the top hinge breaking with an audible crack. You dropped the books your were packing, looking up to find Paul racing towards you like a heat seeking missile.

“Paul, what—”

“Shut up, y/n,” he growled. His hands came up to your face, grabbing you and tugging you towards him. His mouth collided with yours, rough and desperate. Strong hands hauled you closer, crushing you against his bare chest in a bruising grip.

Your lips parted under his, your hands grasping for purchase along the planes of his chest as you kissed him back. His lips were surprisingly soft, supple and beautifully shaped, though nothing about the kiss gentle. Your lungs screamed for air, your whole body burning, burning, burning alive for him.

He wrenched himself away, holding onto the door frame like a lifeline. His chest heaved, eyes wild and dark. The frame cracked under his hands.

“Are you okay?” You asked, breathless. He still had bandages wrapped around his torso.

With one hand, he ripped them clean off, revealing nothing but a dimple of scar tissue. “If you want to go, I won't stop you. But I couldn't let you leave without…” his voice trailed off, gaze fixed firmly on your puffy, spit-slick lips.

You took a stuttering breath, tears brimming along your lash line. “I want you to want me to stay,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, tracking each tear as they rolled down your flushed cheeks. His expression softened, eyes round, lips slightly parted. “I want you to stay with me, but you're better off—”

You flung yourself towards him, trusting he would catch you, and he did, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I'm not,” you said, raining kisses across his cheeks, over his lips, his eyes, his jaw. “I'm not.”

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote twilight #paul twilight #paul x reader #twilight #twilight werewolves #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n #werewolves #twilight fic #twilight imagine #fanfiction #Spotify

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soleilapproves · 2 months ago

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Ex bf Price who was your first and knows everything about your body sees you with your new boyfriend for the first time and can’t help but get jealous MDNI

Note: female reader

NSFW content - mentions of sex and sexual experiences. No direct smut

Masterlist

Price hated weddings. The unnecessary crying, large centerpieces, fancy food that tasted like nothing but cream and butter, and dancing. He hated all of it.

However, if you asked him about his opinions on weddings five months ago, he would’ve gone on and on about how he loves weddings.

Why the change of opinion? Because you broke up with him. He had been with a lot of women before but only you had managed to create large tremors in his heart and mind.

He didn’t show it but he was a complete mess after breaking up. Had a sour attitude, picked a fight with anyone within a six foot radius, and drank like a sailor. It only took him five months to finally stop associating your favorite things with you. Five months of pure torture is what the 141 called it.

The five months where hell ascended to the surface.

And now the squad was afraid it would happen again. After the break up, you happened to get very friendly with Kyle. The two of you kept close contact throughout so he naturally invited you to his wedding. What he wasn’t expecting was for your current boyfriend to be in the army as well. Just not as well known.

Price was going to lose his mind.

“I’m a grown man. Quit tryin’ to distract me. I know she’s here with someone.” The commander scoffed as Simon and Soap tried their best to hide you and your boyfriend from his view.

Of course, he knew you were with someone. He had eyes and ears everywhere including your current boyfriend’s team. He knew the bugger had quite the history with women and specifically went after you because you had little experience. Lucky for the captain, your boyfriend didn’t know that he was your ex.

Price couldn’t peel his eyes away from you from the beginning of the ceremony till dinner time. You look ravishing in your outfit. He remembered how you would always ask him to zip your dresses up and you both would end up arriving late to events because he would do the opposite.

He noticed how you wore the earrings he got you, giving him hope that somewhere in your heart you still wanted to be with him.

After the ceremony, the women gathered in their own separate area, sitting with the bride and asking her about the wedding and taking a few candid photos. The men had mostly dispersed to the bar or outside the wedding hall for a smoke break. The entirety of the 141 squad left with Kyle for a smoke, probably to enjoy his last few moments before he left for his honeymoon. But Price didn’t like corny goodbyes so he stayed behind.

He sipped his whiskey, reminiscing about his own dreams of getting married until he heard boisterous laughing coming from a group approaching his side of the bar.

It was your ex. Price knew his name but preferred to call him Dick when he thought of him. He chose his last name as Head. He could overhear Dick talk about his new girlfriend and Price immediately directed all his attention towards them. Discreetly of course. He was still facing the bartender so it seemed like he was uninterested.

“I’m telling you, mate, she is so easy to please. All I need to do fuck her and she comes. It’s fucking insane.” Dick bragged as he took a swig of his beer. Price had a small smile on his face. He knew some lousy fucking could never get you off.

“I know you didn’t come last night. Don’t lie to me.” Price said as he cuddled with you on your shared bed. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you.” You sheepishly replied. “Next time you don’t feel satisfied, I want you to tell me.” He pulled away and straddled you. “Now let me make it up to you the right way, yeah?” He said as he lifted your tank top and began kissing down your abdomen.

“She doesn’t even beg me to do anything. I can do whatever I want. It’s heaven.” Price wanted to laugh out loud. You? Not saying what you wanted? Sounds like Dick was sleeping with a total stranger.

“John, please, I need you in me. I can’t take any more of this teasing.” You groaned against his neck. Price chose to ignore you and kept rubbing his fingers around your entrance. “Come on, darling, you can be a little patient.” You huffed in anger and rolled on top of him. “Either you fuck me like I asked or I’ll ride you so hard you’ll forget your name.” You snapped. Price smiled knowing that neither of you were going to wake up early the next day.

“She also hates all that aftercare shit which is good because I’m fucking beat after all that work.” This guys was a ball of grease. Price wondered how you met him but chose to find out the answer later.

You were laying on Price’s chest after a particularly rough session. His hand played with your hair as your eyelids grew heavy. You had this habit of going non verbal after sex so you could recover your mental energy as well. Price understood and respected that so he’d hold you as you regained your strength. It was your own little heaven with him. Sometimes he’d bring you warm tea and snacks to rejuvenate, other times he’d lightly massage your shoulders as you’d sleep on top of him.

It was confirmed- you did not give a fuck about Dick and he was a rebound. Price laughed loudly and all the men in the group beside him turned. He got off the bar stool and walked to Dick. He placed his hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder and held it with a firm grip.

“Hope you get the message.” He said before sarcastically chuckling and walking away.

“The fuck is he on about?” He heard Dick murmur while he headed to where you were sitting with the women.

You seem surprised to see him but walked to a corner away from the wedding hall.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close enough to smell the whiskey in his breath. “I believe you and I need to have a conversation.”

-•-

Didn’t like Price’s character when I first learned about him and look at me now. Maybe I’ll write a part 2, idk I like surprising people.

#price cod #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod fluff #price x reader #john price #captain price #cod simon riley #cod soap

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 months ago

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One Last Time

Summary: Three years ago you buried Logan on the day you were supposed to get married. When your friend calls you, telling you that she saw Logan at the bar she was at right at this moment, you had to check for yourself if she was right. Not knowing that the night would end with you in his bed. And a surprise weeks later you were not ready for.

Pairing: Logan x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, grief, alcohol, smut (unprotected sex), masturbation, cum play, unplanned pregnancy, me setting myself up for a part two of this fic that I haven't planned because all my brain thinks of is having babies

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Marvel Masterlist

You didn’t believe your friend when she called you to tell you she had seen him.

Logan.

Because it could not have been him.

You had buried him almost three years ago on a rainy day. The day that was supposed to be your wedding day became the day you had to say goodbye to the man that had saved you in so many ways.

You met Logan almost seven years ago.

He quite literally saved you from getting smashed by a car that had been thrown at you during an attack where you found yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He found you after, when you were about to be brought to the hospital for your broken leg, asking if you’d be okay.

You didn’t really think you would see him ever again.

But Logan became a frequent visitor during your time at the hospital. He insisted on bringing you to the appointments after, stating that had he been quicker, your leg wouldn’t have been broken. You stopped reminding him after week three that if he wouldn’t have been there you would probably dead.

It would take him almost a year to ask you out on a date.

And the rest, as they said, was history.

You had been in the middle of your last wedding dress fitting when the call reached you. Charles Xavier, a mentor and friend of Logan, had called you to tell you to come to the school where Logan was working right away.

It was there that you learned that Logan had been killed during a mission.

The whole year after was a blur of heartbreak, anger and grief.

It had taken you a long time to learn to live with the hole in your heart, that Logan’s death left in you.

So there was no way it was Logan that your friend saw at the bar.

You found yourself getting dressed in the dead of night to take a look anyway.

A very anxious cab ride later you found yourself walking towards your friend, hugging her as she told you he was still sitting at the bar, getting drunk. He’d been drinking since she got there three hours ago for her date.

„And you’re sure?“ You asked, voice tight. She nodded.

„There even was another dude there earlier and he called him Logan. I… I wouldn’t call you if I weren’t sure baby,“ she said and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

You weren’t even sure why you were here.

Was it because you had to see with your own two eyes that your friend was wrong? Was it because deep down you still clung to the hope that everything that happened in the last three years had just been a bad dream?

You didn’t know.

So you weren’t prepared for the way your heart almost stopped once you stepped inside the bar and found him sitting at the bar.

You felt your friend squeeze your hand as you slowly walked towards him, not sure what you would actually do once you stood in front of him. Instead you sat down three chairs down from him, ordering yourself a beer before you allowed yourself to fully look at him.

He was older than your Logan.

Greys in his hair and unkempt beard. There were deep lines around his eyes. He looked tired. Yet the moment he turned his head, his eyes finding yours you couldn’t deny that somehow this was Logan.

Just not the one you knew.

He raised one of his eyebrows as he looked at you and you blinked at him, processing your thoughts, thankful when the bartender interrupted your inner panic rising and set your ordered beer down in front of you.

Thanking him with a nod you picked up the beer, bringing the bottle to your lips, taking three big gulps.

Closing your eyes, your head lowered as you took some deep breaths, you were startled when you heard his voice.

„Do I know you from somewhere?“

His deep, familiar voice making you tear up immediately.

Opening your eyes you looked up and turned your head to the side where Logan was looking at you with curious eyes.

„I don’t think so. I knew another you though,“ you said, before you took another sip of your beer.

Even in your drunken mind you knew that when you would wake up the next day you would regret this.

But right now Logan was kissing you and you did not care how much it would hurt the next day.

You were both drunk when the bar closed and because you didn’t want to part form him just yet you kissed him as soon as you were outside, before you told him that you’d really like to spend more time with him.

Now you were in the shady motel room that he apparently called home, your back against the closed door, his lips on yours.

Parting your lips for him his tongue slipped into your mouth while his arms picked you up to pull you closer, his hands on your ass. He carried you over to his bed, lips never leaving yours as he laid you down.

With your hands in his hair you kept him close, breathing him in.

„Wanna ride your cock,“ you mumbled against his lips and he groaned.

„Sure you can take me, princess?“ He asked and you grinned.

„You wanna check?“

He chuckled as he knelt over you, making a show of taking his shirt off, your eyes hungrily taking him in. The thought that he had more scars than your Logan came to your mind, but you fought that thought down.

You sat yourself up and got rid of your shirt and bra too, the growl that came from Logan’s lips making you shiver. He was the one who took off your jeans and panties before he got out of the bed and took the rest of his clothes off, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sucking your bottom lip in you parted your legs for him, one of your hands slipping down your body until your fingers dipped between your folds, playing with yourself.

„She’s desperate for it, huh?“ He asked, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

„So desperate to be filled,“ you sighed.

„Show me,“ he demanded, voice hoarse and you arched your back as you pushed two of your fingers inside with ease.

You watched him watch you, one of his hands wrapping around his thick cock, pumping it slowly as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

„Shit I can hear how fucking soaked you are, princess,“ he said, finally getting back on the bed. He watched you bring yourself closer and closer to an orgasm, his hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you just before you fell over the edge, making you whine in protest.

Looking at him you gasped when he brought your finger to his lips, sucking them clean, humming like it was the most delicious thing he ever had.

Before he could react you were straddling him, pushing him on his back, your hands grabbing both of his wrists, pressing them against the mattress as you felt the tip of his cock slip inside of you.

With a cocky grin he looked up at you, his lips parting as you slowly let yourself sink down on him, his thick cock filling you inch after inch, stretching your inner walks until you were seated on his hips, his cock resting deep inside of you.

„Fucking missed this,“ you moaned, closing your eyes before you began to roll your hips.

It wasn’t long before he got out of your grip, one of his hands on your ass, moving you on top of him, his other hand playing with one of your tits.

„Feels fucking perfect,“ he groaned, thrusting up into you and you had to stop yourself from crying out loudly.

„Oh you liked that, huh?“ he teased and you nodded, sucking your lip between your teeth.

„None of that,“ he said, his thumb pulling at your lip, tilting your head down so you had to look at him.

„Want to hear you when I make you cum,“ he smirked, both of his hands grabbing your hips before he began to pump himself up into you, holding you still as he fucked into you in quick deep thrusts.

„Oh shit,“ you cried out, your hands come to rest on either side of his head, keeping you upright.

„Can feel her squeezing me,“ he grunted and you shuddered.

„Cum for me, princess,“ he grunted, somehow even fucking up faster inside of you, his cock twitching.

It was moments later that you exploded, your orgasm taking over your body, legs shaking, arms weakening as you fell down against his chest, his arms caging you against his chest as he fucked you through it before he came too, fucking you full of his cum.

You wrapped your arms behind his neck, your face resting in the crook of he neck as you both panted against each other.

You must have fallen asleep like that because the next time your eyes opened the room was dark and you were laying with Logan behind you under the covers.

He was breathing calmly behind you and you let the familiarity of this situation allow to wash over you. Having spent countless night like this in your shared bed with another Logan that was now gone.

You felt the tears before you even realised that you were crying, taking some deep breaths, before you slowly got out of the bed, careful to not wake him up.

Allowing yourself a long look at this Logan you wondered what his story was, shaking your head to yourself before you began to get dressed.

The sun was just rising when you quietly opened the motel door, taking one last look at him before you slipped out of his room.

Calling yourself an uber you allowed yourself to shed some tears, feeling conflicted and confused about the last twelve hours.

Without the intention to ever see him again, you did not check for a way to ever contact him again.

Not knowing that only six weeks later you would not only move into the same apartment complex he was moving into.

No, you’d find out that just because your Logan was infertile it did not mean every Logan was, as you stared panicked at the positive pregnancy test on the first night in your new apartment.

#my fic #logan howlett #Logan howlett x fem. reader #logan x fem. reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #wolverine #wolverine x fem. reader #hugh jackman #worst wolverine

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m0llygunn · 2 years ago

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The Blackout (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

Summary: A state wide power outage during the hottest days of the year leave you and eddie getting on each others nerves with only one way to work it out...

Warnings: 18+! smut, mature language, pet names (baby, sweetheart), oral (f receiving), p in v sex (no protection), creampie, sweaty sex, porn with plot, both eddie and reader are kind of mean to each other, no y/n. Author’s note: its summer and way too hot out so i wrote this idk wc: 3.3k

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“Its so fucking hot.” He groans.

“Eddie, if I can’t say I’m bored you can’t say you’re hot.”

I didn’t say I was hot, I said it was hot.” Eddie snaps, heat driving him to agitation.

“Go for a fucking walk then, I don’t know what to tell you.” You snap back.

The power’s been out for three days, with the outage reaching across most of the state.

Three whole fucking days during a record breakingly hot summer.

With the power being out, that means no A/C, no TV, no phone, no radio, no nothing. They’re calling it ‘The Blackout’ by what you gathered from neighbours. It is truly a moment of history that you’re sharing with Eddie, and it’s been fucking miserable.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans, standing from the opposite end of the couch. “It’s just as fucking hot out there, why would you even think a walk would be a good idea?”

“Stop being pissy.” You warn.

He shoots you a glare before pulling his shirt off over his head. Why he even bothered putting a shirt on after his shower, escapes you. The only thing that has kept you both from completely withering away in the stifling, suffocating heat has been taking showers. The only downside of it is that the water heater obviously uses electricity so the water is uncomfortably cold.

You watch as he crosses to the kitchen.

“Do you think the milk would still be good?” He asks, hand on the fridge door, looking in your direction.

“Why would I know?” You reply snarkily, still mad over him snapping at you.

“Holy shit, it was just a question.” He groans. “Fuck— and you think I’m being pissy.” He mumbles under his breath as he quickly opens the fridge, grabbing the milk and shutting it just as fast to try and preserve some of the cold air inside.

“I heard that.” You yell back.

“You were supposed to.” He retorts. You watch him as he sniffs the milk, nose scrunching in response.

“It’s bad?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, he just starts dumping it down the sink, slamming the empty carton down onto the counter.

It’s been so hot you both haven’t had the energy to do anything besides argue. The first day you both thought it was semi-interesting seeing everything out of power and watching people gathering outside to excitedly chatter about it, but as the remaining cold air from the air conditioner turned hot, it wasn’t fun anymore. Then the bickering started.

You continue watching him as he opens the fridge again, this time grabbing a beer, and quickly closing the fridge like last time.

He cracks the can and you can tell from the scowl on his face as he takes a sip that it’s warm.

“It’s warm?” You ask, purely just to annoy him. You have to admit, his pissy mood is helping with your boredom, he’s serving as quite the entertainment.

You watch as he slams the can down on the counter.

“Are you being annoying on purpose?” He asks, brows pinched, eyes narrowed in on you.

“Are you being annoying on purpose?” You mock, pitching your voice up into a nasally tone.

“Fucking stop it.” He scolds, brows pinching even more harshly.

“Fucking stop it.” You mock quietly, turning in your seat on the couch to face away from Eddie.

You hear what sounds like him gulping the beer before heavy stomps heading straight for you.

“You’re pissing me off on purpose?” He asks.

Out of your periphery you can see him standing beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are.”

The corners of your lips tug up and as much as you try to stop it, you can’t.

“Do you think this is funny?” Eddie asks bewilderedly, not even the slightest bit amused by you.

“I don’t think anything about this is funny, Eddie.” You reply, your smile maturing into a smirk.

Eddie huffs, moving to sit back down beside you on the couch, making sure to sit as far away from you as possible. He exhales a deep sigh and you can tell he’s pissed by the way his jaw repeatedly clenches.

You slowly shift so your feet are up on the couch. Eddie's eyes are set forward, ignoring you on purpose.

Inch by inch you stretch your legs out until your toes are poking him in the side. He doesn’t react so you wiggle your toes, digging them in harder.

Without even sparing you a look, he grabs both of your feet pulling them on his lap, holding them tightly so they can’t move.

“Eddie, let go.” You whine as you try to escape the grips he has around your ankles. He ignores you.

You have two choices. You could lay here quietly or you could make things exponentially worse.

Exponentially worse sounds more entertaining.

You huff a breath and notice the way Eddie’s jaw clenches right after. You sigh, and he does it again.

You breathe comically loud and you swear you see his eye twitch.

One more sigh and you’re sure he’ll break his little silent treatment, so you let out a soft breathy sigh.

Nothing. Not even a jaw clench this time. You’re positive he’s just trying his best to ignore you now but you know two little words that have driven him up the wall for the last three days.

“Eddie, I’m bored.” You whine, and sure enough he breaks. His head turns in your direction, eyes burning into you.

You think he’s gonna say something but instead he pulls you by the feet, grabbing your arm so you’re practically sitting in his lap.

“You’re bored?” He coos, taunting you. He pulls at your limbs, getting you to straddle his hips, your hands landing on his bare chest.

“Don’t.” You warn, despite your increased heart rate at getting the exact response you were looking for.

“Aw but my baby’s bored, doesn’t she just want a little attention?” He continues his taunting, looking at you with a faux concern.

“You’re all sweaty.” You say, feeling his sticky skin under your fingertips.

“Baby, it’s cause you got me all worked up now. Pissing me off on purpose just for a quick laugh, right?” He says, pulling you closer to him with his hands on your hips. “What wrong, sweetheart? Where’s that smile from earlier? Seems to have disappeared now that you got what you wanted.” He teases.

“Wasn’t trying to piss you off.” You huff.

“Baby, you got what you wanted didn’t you? No use in lying.” He proceeds with his taunt.

“M’not lying.” You whisper, watching your fingers as you skate them down his sweat slicked chest. When he sternly says your name you look up at him.

“Baby, there’s no way you just said all that stuff without purposefully saying it to annoy me.” He says, cutting out all the coos, teasing, and taunting.

“Oh, so you think I’m annoying?” You say, raising your brows at him.

“Oh my god.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the couch in defeat.

You watch him as his brows pinch and his eyes squeeze shut to try and calm himself. You're about to speak again to scold him, but his hips shift below yours, his hard length pressed between your thighs.

“Oh my god.” You gasp. “You’re hard?”

His eyes shoot open, glaring at you for pointing it out so flagrantly. You didn’t think he was getting this worked up. Truthfully you were just doing this for a quick laugh, not a quick fuck.

“What did you think I was doing?” He asks, hands squeezing your hips, eyes still burning into you. Evidently you both were on separate pages but feeling his length still pressing into you, you're quickly switching over to the same wavelength as Eddie, but not without a little more entertainment.

“Accusing me of being annoying and a liar.” You shrill, tilting your head at him.

“Oh my god, you need to stop talking.” He says, hands pulling you by the cheeks towards his face. He presses his lips to yours and only then you process what he just said.

“Don’t tell me to stop talking.” You say, pulling away from the kiss.

“Shhh.” He hushes, pulling you back in, his lips pressing back to yours

“Don’t tell me to shush.” You say, pulling back once more.

Eddie groans, head falling forward to rest against your chest.

After a few deep breaths he pulls away. When he looks at you again, you can tell he’s still annoyed but he’s trying to relax his features.

“Do you want to fuck or not?” He asks, purposefully softening his voice.

“Ever the romantic.” You scoff.

“Baby.” He says, starting to reduce to a whine.

You find both amusement and pity in him, opting to grind your hips against his. His hands fall to your sides again, guiding you against him.

“So is that a yes?” He asks, mouth falling open as you pass over his length.

“You told me to stop talking.” You reply, smile tugging on your lips. You spread your thighs further, dropping your weight onto his crotch and he gasps, chasing it with a deep exhale.

“Talk, don’t talk, I don’t care, just keep doing that.” He grunts, lifting his hips enough to meet yours.

“Don’t be fucking rude.” You say, lifting your hips from his. When you watch his face, his annoyance falls into desperation and defeat as he attempts to chase after you with his hips before deflating into the couch with a ‘humph’.

"Fuck, please, baby.” He groans, pinching your skin between his fingers with his harsh grip on your thighs.

“Say you’re sorry.” You demand, hips still lifted from him.

“I’m sorry baby, let me show you how sorry I am.” He whines, bringing his face to sit against your chest, pressing kisses into your skin wherever he can reach.

“Fine.” You reply, smiling to yourself as you place both palms flat on his chest to guide yourself as you resume your grinding.

He lets you continue the glide of your hips against him for a moment before his hands rise to your waist, lifting you up and peeling himself from the couch.

He flips you, sitting you back against the couch while sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“C’mon baby, let’s get these off.” He says lowly, fingers tangling in the lace of your panties under your oversized shirt. You lift your hips and he quickly pulls them off, throwing them beside him.

He grabs your hips again, pulling you to the edge of the couch, immediately connecting his mouth to your cunt.

You whimper as his tongue licks up your slit, swirling around your clit. He’s quick to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you, bringing them in and out at a pace he knows you like.

“Look at you, all quiet and happy now.” Eddie laughs. You look down at him between your legs and his eyes are focused on you, pupils blown wide and sparkling in amusement as his skin glistens in a sheer sweat.

You don’t respond to him, you just watch with a slack jaw as his mouth works against you, fingers massaging that sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs.

Your pleasure keeps building and building, tension becoming a hot blur inside of you until Eddie’s mouth stops completely. A whined cry escapes your lips as the crescendo of your high is pulled from you.

“How do you have me showing you that I’m sorry? You’re the one who was purposefully pissing me off.” Eddie questions, brows furrowed. It’s not a sly tease or a playful trick of the moment, it’s a genuine realization that’s just come to him.

“Eddie.” You whine.

“No, seriously. You’re the one who started this, why am I sorry?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan.

“No.” He retorts, brows pinched. You sink your weight into the couch, exhaling through your nose before looking back at Eddie.

“Eddie, I was so close to coming.” You whine, bringing your hands to his face to push his sweaty bangs back, trying to will him to continue.

“Say sorry then.” He says firmly, ignoring your hands on his face.

“Eddie.” You whine again. He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly and you sigh harshly bring your arms to your chest, folding them in a pout. “Do you want me to give you a blow job, is that what this is about?” He blinks at you slowly before opening his mouth.

“I want you to say sorry.” He pushes, refusing to be distracted by your offer.

“Sorry.” You mumble, annoyed that he’s really making you apologize mid fuck.

“What was that, couldn’t quite hear you.” He says, smile ghosting over his lips as he turns his ear to you, cupping it with his hand.

“I said sorry.” You snap. His smile turns into a dimpled grin as his eyes bleed pure amusement.

“Get down here.” He laughs, pulling you down the couch further, wrapping his arms around your back and maneuvering you to the floor.

“Eddie!” You shriek as your body hits the floor, his hands guiding you downwards. You’re greeted with a coolness against your back that feels refreshing against your boiling hot skin.

“It’s cooler down here.” He says, lowering his face to kiss at your shirt clad chest before his hands grab at the hem. You sit up enough for him to raise the shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you bare on the floor in front of him.

He sits up, unbuckling his pants, tugging them down.

“Gonna fuck you right here on the floor, baby.” He mumbles, fumbling distractedly with his pants that stick to his sweaty skin. It takes him a while, but when they're finally off, boxers removed with them, he wastes no time running his fist up and down his length before bringing it to your core.

“Ready, baby?”

“I was ready about 5 minutes ago before you started fighting with your pant—” You sneer before Eddie pushes into you, interrupting your snarky comment by punching all the air from your lungs.

“Baby, you really gotta quit that attitude, it’s too fucking hot in here for that.” He grunts, punctuating every other word with thrusts into you.

The stretch of him filling you up and the force behind each jut of his hips leaves your head spinning.

“Eddie.” You moan, feeling your lost pleasure resurface quickly, tension already building in your lower belly.

Your heavy breathing gets buried under the echoes of sticky skin slapping together with each of Eddie's pistoling movements. His plunging thrusts working his cock deep inside of you, the adrenaline of your non-stop arguing working as fuel for him fervently fucking you.

Reaching your arms up to him, you bring your hands to his back, grasping for purchase against his sweaty skin, resorting to using your nails to keep you tethered to him as he fucks you into the carpeted floor.

“You like that, baby? Just wanted me to fuck you, huh? Getting me all pissed off so I can give it to you nice and hard.” He grunts, one of his hands releasing the tight squeeze on your thighs to graze over your chest, the heat of his hand searing your skin, leaving you tingling under the trail of his touch.

“Mhmm” You moan, agreeing mindlessly, lost in pleasure. You look up at Eddie, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth dropped agape, hair stuck to his face and you feel a burst of adoration for him.

“Eddie.” You whine, using your grip on him to pull him down. “Kiss.” You add, and he lowers to you immediately. His lips meet yours, both of you working your lips together in a salty kiss tainted by the mixing sweat of your upper lips. He continues thrusting into you, the new position as he licks into your mouth offering an added friction to your clit with each plunge making you gasp and moan into his mouth.

“Fuck.” He groans. “Feels so good, baby.” His kisses stop but he doesn’t let his lips leave you entirely, breathing his words into your mouth.

The sweltering hot knot in your belly grows impossibly tight, each thrust of his hips reaching deeper inside of you while his hot breath funnels directly into your mouth leaving you absolutely dizzy.

“G-gonna cum, Eddie.” You stutter, lower belly tensing so harshly your breathing only comes in harsh pants.

“Cum for me, baby. Need to feel you cum.” He groans.

You let go, body vibrating, and in the heat of the house it feels like everything inside of you is boiling over in an orgasmic haze. Your skin prickles, as Eddie’s thrusting grows more erratic.

You grip harshly against his skin, fingers slipping and nails digging in harder with every final thrust bringing you through your searing high.

“Fuck. Fuck, squeezing me so hard, baby.” He whimpers, hips meeting yours as he pushes deeply inside of you, balls tensing and cock twitching as he fills you up with the warm milkiness of his cum. He thrusts in and out of you, hips stuttering as he rides through his high before collapsing on top of you.

His chest pushes against yours with every gasp of air as he catches his breath and you slowly but surely come back to reality. Reality— which is an absolutely sweltering hot, sweaty man on top of you.

“You’re so sweaty.” You whisper, feeling the stickiness of his face press against your cheek, his hair sticking all over his face and your face. He laughs, the hot air of his breath fanning over the dripping sweat on your neck.

“You too.” He says, pushing himself up with his arms to look at you. With drips of sweat beading down his temples, bangs sticking in all different directions, every hint of annoyance is gone from his eyes, leaving behind a hazy contentment mixed with adoration.

“I think you gave me carpet burn.” You say, smiling despite the stinging burn on your back that you only notice now as he shifts on top of you, relieving you of his weight.

“I think you drew blood.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. He sits up on his knees, pulling out from you with a mirrored gasp between the two of you.

On his knees, he twists his upper body showing you the angry red lines you drew on his back with your nails. You gasp and he turns back around, looking at you with a knowing smile.

“Here, sit up, baby.” He says, holding his arms out for you. You take them and he tugs you up, peering behind you at your back.

“Yup, s’all red.” He laughs.

“Shower?” You say, pulling yourself closer to him. He pulls you up from the floor, slippery grip making you slide from him until he boosts you up, reclaiming a firm grip on your ass.

“Fuck yeah, we need a shower.” He breathes as he walks you to the bathroom, kicking the door open.

You and Eddie spent the next few hours sitting in the tub finding salvation from the muggy heat in the freezing cold water that runs from the tap. It was an uncomfortable fit in the small tub but with your knees pressed to your chest, your back to his front, and one of his calves hanging over the ledge, you both sat together, chattering quietly until you both were pruny and ready to get out.

By the late evening, you were on better terms, arguing reduced to nothing but a playful teasing lilt.

Just as you both started to get ready for bed, the lights turned back on along with the beautiful melody of the air conditioner vibrating from the window.

The room cooled down drastically, leaving you both happy and allowing for you to cuddle in bed, completely sweat free.

As soon as your heads hit your pillows, with your bodies relaxing into each other as you nodded off to sleep, everything that transpired in the heated power outage reduced to a moment of the past that you two will grow to laugh at over time.

You did gather one thing though, getting Eddie riled up before sex is extremely entertaining.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie smut

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pandapetals · 2 months ago

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Shits and Giggles

You and Logan get drunk together and get caught by Xavier.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

“I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had,” you giggled, waving the half-empty beer bottle in your hand like it was some kind of trophy. The world felt a little off-kilter, the living room spinning just slightly as you leaned against Logan on the couch.

Logan, slouched back with his legs stretched out and another empty bottle at his feet, glanced over at you, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. “Sweetheart,” he slurred, his words tinged with a hiccup, “I think we both gave up on countin' somewhere between… hell, I don’t even know.”

You snorted, dissolving into another fit of laughter that made your shoulders shake. “Between 'hell' and 'I don’t even know,'” you echoed, the absurdity of it striking you as the funniest thing in the world. “That’s gotta be at least… five?”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for another bottle on the coffee table, nearly knocking over a half-eaten bowl of pretzels in the process. “Five? Try ten,” he shot back, popping the cap off with a quick twist of his wrist. “You’re lightweight compared to me.” He took a swig, then glanced sideways at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Remember when you tried to out-drink me that one time?”

You burst into laughter again, nearly spilling your drink. “Oh my God, yes! I thought I could handle whiskey,” you said, still giggling as you shook your head. “And then I ended up singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on the pool table.”

Logan snorted, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, you were ‘Galileo’-ing so hard, I thought you were gonna fall off.” He pointed at you with the neck of his beer bottle, his grin widening. “I’ve never seen anyone get that passionate about Freddie Mercury.”

“Well,” you said, trying to compose yourself but failing as another hiccup escaped, “Freddie Mercury is worth the passion.”

You both dissolved into another round of laughter, so loud that the quiet mansion seemed to echo with it, the kind of laughter that left your sides hurting and tears forming at the corners of your eyes. It felt like the whole world had shrunk down to just the two of you—your private little universe of bad jokes and too many drinks.

Logan wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “We gotta be the loudest drunks in history,” he murmured, his voice low and amused. “Pretty sure we just woke up half the neighborhood.”

“Hey, it’s not our fault the living room has such good acoustics,” you said, hiccuping again, then letting out a laugh that quickly turned into a snort. “Plus, if the mansion was really soundproof like Xavier claims, we’d be fine.”

As if on cue, Xavier wheeled in, looking every bit the stern headmaster despite the lateness of the hour. His brows were raised in a mixture of amusement and disapproval. “And what, may I ask, is the cause of all this ruckus?” he said, his voice calm but carrying that unmistakable tone of authority.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, trying—and failing—to stifle your laughter. “Professor!” you said, eyes wide as you tried to sit up straighter. “Uh, we were just… um…”

“Studying the effects of… alcohol on… something,” Logan added, attempting to sound serious but breaking into a grin halfway through the sentence. “Purely scientific. For… education.”

Xavier sighed, shaking his head as he looked between the two of you. “At this hour? In the middle of the living room?” His lips quirked slightly like he was fighting the urge to smile. “You do realize there are other people in this mansion who require sleep?”

You bit your lip, trying to look contrite but still giggling. “Sorry, Professor,” you said, though your voice wobbled with barely contained laughter. “We’ll keep it down. Pinky promise.” You held up your little finger as if to seal the deal.

Logan glanced at you, then back at Xavier, and without missing a beat, extended his own pinky in a solemn gesture. “Swear on it,” he said, the grin still tugging at his lips.

Xavier shook his head again, a hint of a smile breaking through his stern expression. “I suppose I’ll let it slide this time,” he said, turning his chair toward the door. “But if I hear another rendition of 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' you’ll be on kitchen duty for the rest of the month.”

As soon as he left the room, you and Logan exchanged a look before breaking into laughter all over again, doubling over as you clinked your bottles together. “Kitchen duty,” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes. “I can’t even make toast without setting off the smoke alarm.”

Logan’s deep laughter echoed through the room once more as he reached over to pull you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “Guess that’s one more reason to behave,” he said, his voice still rough with amusement. “But I gotta admit, darlin’, there’s nobody I’d rather get scolded with.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the laughter finally started to die down, leaving a warm, fuzzy contentment in its wake. “Likewise,” you murmured, your voice softened by the alcohol and the comfort of his warmth. “We really are a bad influence on each other, huh?”

Logan chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Maybe,” he said quietly, “but I’d say we’re a damn good time.”

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pbandnoj · 2 months ago

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The JjK men reacting to finding out you’re infertile. This was honestly a self-indulgent fic idea but then it won on the poll I put out and honestly I was kinda surprised people were interested! Yall picked the only fic I didn’t have finished but I do now so here it is! If you’d like a part 2 let me know! +what characters!

Toji

You didn’t tell him until years into the relationship. Sure maybe that wasn’t the healthiest thing but oh well things happened and you couldn’t change the past. And it took so long for Toji to trust you… that you just didn’t want to add another thing on top of it to deal with. I mean it took him almost a year for him to introduce you to his kids. It took him that long just to feel serious about your relationship.

And it’s not like he asked either, or used a condom. Cmon, we all know his history with women and he just kinda presumed you were on the pill, or that he’d deal with the consequences after the fact. He had two kids, this wasn’t his first time around the block. And even after he got serious with you he never brought up wanting to have another. His hands were full, and besides he wasn’t very well off. I mean you guys made it work, but that was just with the 4 of you, who knows what adding another would do.

So the conversation didn’t happen until probably 5… maybe 6 years in. Where you both had pretty much decided that you were stuck with each other. That if you lost each other at this point in life there would be no reason to restart the process of finding someone new all over again. He trusted you, and god that meant a lot coming from a man like Toji, his goal was to protect his kids and now you along with them.

Laying on the couch one night, one kid off at a sleepover the other supposed to be returning home soon. You guys trusted them… maybe a lil too much. Head resting on his chest, listening to the way his heart pounded, like it wanted to leap out of his chest and make it known just how much he loved you, how much joy he found being with you. Something he thought he’d never find again after the loss of his first wife, and the second one leaving him.

Some thriller played in the background, some movie franchise Toji was secretly a big fan of. Half empty beers sitting on the coffee table, one of his hands softly scratching your back, softer than the man had ever been before. You, aimlessly fiddling with his other hand that adorned his shiny wedding ring, one that matched yours, deciding on simple ones that didn’t cost much, but meant a lot.

“Hey Toji?” You muttered out, voice weaker than you intended, his hand on your back instinctively tightened, a simple grunt in response. Your tone of voice worried him, that tone always did, meant you’d ruin the peace with something serious, as he’d always say. But really he was just always worried it’d be something so serious that he’d end up losing you.

When you didn’t continue, he grumbled, ready for you just to spit it out. This type of atmosphere either had 1 of 2 endings to whatever conversation was going to happen, either you were super upset over something really really detrimental or it was something silly you were getting all caught up on. “What is it woman? You’re ruining the movie,” his words were harsh, but you were long past the phase of wondering if he was mad at you over simply the way he normally spoke.

“Well….Did you ever… I don’t know… question why I was so excited that you had kids?” You hummed out softly, your hand that was fiddling with the ring on his finger slowly moving to hold his hand instead. Toji had once in the past let it slip that when he had tried dating before you he often got hurt cause they didn’t want to deal with his already pre-started family. He sighed knowing you were overthinking something, “Mmm, not really, was just grateful,” that was one of the first time you had actually heard him be so openly heartfelt.

“Oh…. Well it’s cause I can’t have my own,” you hummed softly. His expression didn’t change, nothing more than an eyebrow quirking up, “Is that so doll?” He mumbled, already deciding this convo was one of the silly ones, aka option 2. You took his response as him just simply brushing you off, watching his eyes reconnect with the tv screen and his hand that was intertwined with yours, now reaching for his beer bottle, “Those kids, Megumi and Tsumiki, are just as much yours now as they are mine.” Everything he had needed to say was in that one little sentence alone.

Your eyes widened, “Oh Toji,” you muttered softly, holding back tears, “Oh Jesus don’t cry,” he huffed, resuming his hand on your back, rubbing soft soothing circles. Reaching his head down to press a kiss to the top of your head but in his head he was just glad this was one of your silly overthought moments.

Nanami

You told him on your 3rd date. Nanami was a classy man, made you feel really stupid for some of the guys you had dated in the past, so you wanted to treat him right just as he treated you.

On your first date he was stiff, and awkward even, but it was endearing in a way. You both had worked together so there was no reason for him be worried but it was nice to know that someone like Nanami could be nervous. That date was a dinner date.

Your second was a bit more relaxed, a bowling alley, an idea recommended by Gojo an annoying coworker you both shared (and bonded over complaining about). It was nice cause Nanami could get a few drinks in, relax a bit, unbutton the top button of his shirt. Strike some strikes and whatever else you did in bowling. It was nice.

Your third date was a walk through the park, a bit more impromptu but you had decided this one, invited him on it too. It was after an early mission, so you two were done around the afternoon. The sun was warm, flowers blooming, walking side by side down some path. And of course the relationship wasn’t official but Nanami knew from the first time he had saw you he wanted you.

His hand was placed respectfully on your lower back, of course after making sure you were ok with it, and trees lined the pathway you were walking on. He had haphazardly stuck a flower in your hair, one he had picked along your walk.

He was warm, comforting, made you feel like you could be you, so you wanted to be honest. “Kento… are you sure I’m the one you want?” You asked gently, eyes nervously looking up at him as you bit your lip, awaiting his response.

“Of course,” he scoffed, he may be a gentleman but he sure was sassy. “Why wouldn’t I?” He hummed tilting his head down to look at you. “Well… I just think some of are goals don’t align,” you sighed and an eyebrow raise from him was all you needed to know that he was listening.

“Well I…. Look… I can’t… I can’t give you a family,” you muttered looking away, your body becoming rigid against his, “And what do you mean by that?” His voice stern, impending, but not harsh just… curious. “Well… I can’t exactly procreate and it be successful…you get it?” You mumbled under your breath as you picked at the sides of your nails.

Oh, that’s what you meant. He nodded more as a confirmation for his inner thoughts than anything you said, he brought one of his free hands to swat at yours that were picking, “That’s fine,” he shrugged looking back ahead at the path.

“What?” You half yelled definitely hearing some bird flying away from you at the disturbance, “But you.. didn’t you wanna settle down? Have a family? I’ve heard you talk about it,” you grumbled.

He rolled his eyes, “Sure I did, but none of that would mean anything without you,” he hummed, stopping to face you. Tilting your head up by your chin, tired eyes meeting yours, “I want you and you alone. If I can’t have children so be it. You’re enough for me.”

And needless to say it was definitely official after that.

Sukuna

The king of curses was already a very scary man, and honestly talking to him could be quite… difficult to say the least. So you swore off to never tell him. And he didn’t even want the little rascals anyway.

Children were too… annoying for someone who was already so irritating himself, and a little one just like him? Hell would freeze over if that happened.

But he couldn’t deny that you made him ponder. What would it be like? Having one.. or possibly two that were a mix of you both. Or better yet he’d like it more if they were exactly like you. The world would be a better place with only one version of Sukuna Ryomen in it.

Yet he didn’t think of it often. But you knew you had to come clean soon, you could feel the way he glared at your stomach as if trying to stare straight into your uterus. When really he was just trying to figure it if you could even carry a baby from a cursed spirit like him… or if he could get a mere mortal pregnant.

He started trying to, oh so so hard to get you pregnant, every single time burying himself all the way before shooting his load. Yet you never showed any signs. Maybe he was simply incapable. That made him frown.

And that was when you hit a dry spell. He had become so worried that he was shooting blanks or that it was simply impossible to have kids because he was a curse. He was a lot more grouchy, and a lot less touchy. Sukuna already found cuddling and the sorts useless but now? Oh he’d barely look at you now.

He was always easily agitated so you often had found it easier to avoid conflict but he was making it seem like you didn’t even exist. One night you burst into his chambers, a little more attitude in the way you shoved the doors open than you usual.

“Tell me,” you called out standing firmly at the edge of his bed, fuming as your first clenched. His raspy, booming laugh resounding amongst the room. “Tell you what exactly? I owe you nothing,” he hummed remaining in his relaxed position on his lavishly large bed.

“You’ve barely spoken to me or even looked at me in a week? You used to be insatiable what is the problem!” You scrambled out. He clicked his tongue as he rolled his eyes, “Tsk, it’s none of your business how I spend my time. If it bothers you then shoo.”

You groaned, you knew him better than that, he wasn’t being truthful. “Sukuna tell me or I will leave this time, I am done playing this game with you.” Narrowing his eyes he took a good long pause before speaking, pointing down to your abdomen, “You show no signs of pregnancy despite multiple times in the bedroom. I’m confused aren’t most women your age fertile?” He jested, quirking a brow.

“Oh,” you muttered straightening up as you sighed. He sensed the noticeable change, “Your soul’s wavering, you know I can feel it, spit it out,” he said, glaring at you, but his look was one more of concern, you could always tell the difference. “Well I uh…”

You walked around to sit on your side of the bed, really he’d never call it that to your face, before you he’d always just sprawled out. Now he made sure to leave that space empty. “Look I…. I can’t have em,” his brow raised, “Have what? You’re being cryptic mortal.”

You groaned, “Kids! I can’t have kids,” that was laughable. Wait you weren’t joking? Sukuna quickly realized that, “What are you deformed?” He teased but it didn’t help the way your eyes got all dewy. He grumbled, he may be practically a demon….. but he did care enough for you to be in his bed next to him.

“So you cannot produce my heir,” and all you could respond with was a shake of your head, confirming. To Sukuna this made him feel a million times better. He wasn’t shooting blanks you simply just weren’t able to be impregnated. He was joyous if not for the tone of the situation.

“Does not matter,” you shot your head over, a confused look on your face. “You wouldn’t have been able to carry my baby anyways, I’m far too powerful for a mortal to carry my heir,” he teased, and while he had his signature smirk you could see the slight tenderness through it.

This may have been one of the only times he seemed to have understood your turmoil. And also the only time for him to have been the first one to initiate physical contact, pulling you into his chest. One hand running protectively over your back, another in your hair, the other two wrapping around you. “Do not fret, calm your soul dear,” his deep voice muttered out soothingly. And that was probably the best you had ever slept.

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