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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago

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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

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Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months ago

Text

Bad Idea, Right?

Summary: You know this is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's fine.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Dean being a cocky little shit. Dean being fundamentally irresistible.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1,317

A/N: So, Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo (fabulous song, give it a listen!) came on earlier, and this little scenario just popped into my head.

P.S. I wrote this quickly - so sorry for any mistakes!

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The phone rang six times before you finally dragged your eyes open to groan and grope for the buzzing, trilling device on your bedside table.

You looked at the caller ID and were instantly awake and pissed. You sent the call to voicemail and dropped your phone on the bed beside you.

But seconds later it was making noise again, so you angrily swiped your phone open just long enough to bark out a few words.

“Go to hell, Winchester. Stop calling me. I told you last time, we’re done.”

You hung up without hearing a word from him. You knew why he was calling, and you weren't interested.

Liar.

Your internal voice was always brutally honest with you, so you conceded that okay, yes, you were always going to be interested in a booty call from Dean Winchester, aka Walking Sex.

But you swore the last time that it was, well, the last time.

The two of you had already tried dating years ago, but it ended badly. You were both too much alike, stubborn and incapable of explaining your feelings to one another. You were pretty sure you loved him, but when you imagined telling him that, it felt like you were exposing a raw nerve.

And it wasn’t as if Dean was the most emotionally available person, so between the two of you there had been an abundance of heat and acrobatic sex followed by fighting and more make up sex, but since that didn’t really translate to a healthy relationship, you’d both agreed to end it.

But even though you broke up over a year ago, you’d never quite managed to quit each other. Every month or so one of you called up the other, and no matter what you told yourself, that you were just gonna hang out, just gonna talk about the hunts you'd been on, inevitably, the night always ended with the two of you falling into bed for a night of extraordinary sex.

You knew it was unhealthy, though, so you’d told him the last time that you were through, that this couldn’t keep happening. The conversation had devolved quickly and exploded into a massive fight that ended with him slamming out of your hotel room with just his unbuttoned jeans tugged up over his hips, dragging his shirt, shoes and jacket with him.

But now here he was at three in the morning calling again and again.

And again! You thought angrily as your phone started buzzing once more.

You picked it up and swiped it open, drawing in a big breath to yell at him, but he spoke before you had the chance and his deep voice already had your stomach swooping and your resolve wavering.

“Sweetheart, just hear me out. I know what you said last time, and I know it’s a bad idea, but fuck baby, I just need you. Need to feel you moving against me, clenching so tight around me. It’s been too fucking long and I miss the taste of you.”

You tried desperately to hang on to your anger, but it was melting fast beneath the onslaught of need coursing through you.

Likely knowing he already had the upper hand, Dean continued. “Let me come over and make you feel good. You know you miss me too.”

Even as your head screamed at you to hang up, you heard yourself caving. “Get here in fifteen minutes or the chance is gone.” You said, knowing that even that was a lie.

But Dean hung up without another word and ten minutes later you heard the Impala squeal into your driveway. That sound alone left you dripping in anticipation.

He didn’t even have the chance to knock, because you wrenched open the door as he bounded up your porch steps.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked pointlessly.

But Dean nodded. “Yeah probably.”

You stood staring at each other for a heartbeat before you shook your head and leapt at him. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

Dean was already pulling off your clothes as he pushed you back into your house and slammed the door behind him. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and yanked at his t-shirt as he got your pajama shorts off and then ripped off your tank top.

He growled as he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He dipped his head down to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and making you throw your head back with a shout of pleasure.

He set you on your kitchen table so he could kick off his boots and push down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and for some reason that realization made you feral.

He swept two of his thick fingers through your slit, groaning at the dripping mess he found. He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and sucked your juices from the tips.

“So fucking delicious baby. I’m gonna need to feast on you later, but right now all I can think about is getting my cock buried so fucking deep into that sweet pussy that you feel me for days, maybe even weeks.”

His filthy words always drove you crazy. Listening to his deep, gruff voice as he described everything he was going to do to you, had made you come untouched more than once.

He slipped his fingers back into your slick, burying them inside you this time and scissoring you open, before sliding in and out of you a few times with a wet squelching sound. Then he curled his fingers forward like he was beckoning you to him, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, pressing and rubbing until you were writhing on the table and begging for him.

“Dean, please, just give it to me.”

“Yeah baby? You want it?” Dean asked with a smirk that made you wanna smack him a little.

“Yeah, jackass! Why do you think you’re here?” You shouted at him breathlessly.

“Knew you were needing this big cock, knew you couldn’t go without me any more than I could go without you.”

He suddenly drove himself all the way into your heat with one thrust, ripping a pleasured scream from your throat. You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hard, straining muscles as you both looked down to watch his thick cock slide in and out of your cunt, opening you up again and again.

You dropped back onto your elbows, head thrown back, as Dean lifted your hips off the table so he could drive in deeper.

“Jesus fuck!” Dean ground out. “You take me so fucking good, baby. Never had anybody take my cock like you do, so perfectly, clenching around me so goddamn tight.”

As you squeezed him hard again, he sucked in his breath on a hiss and continued to pound into you, shaking the table and drawing endless, keening moans from deep inside your chest. Finally, he slammed into you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot again and pushing you over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, you clamped down on his cock, making him shout out your name as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own.

He let your hips drop back onto the table and his softening dick slipped out of you. But he pushed it back inside and began nibbling on your breasts as he breathed out his words against your skin.

“I wanna feel you around me for a little longer, feel the way those little shuddering aftershocks of yours send electricity shooting straight through me.” He slid his hand to your clit and began rubbing you. “Gonna make you come over and over while I’m inside you, get me hard all over again.”

All you could do was moan and scratch your nails across his shoulders as the pleasure built deep inside you once more. A weak voice echoed in the back of your head reminding you this was a bad idea. But you just ignored it.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

#dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 7 months ago

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How to react to you longtime girlfriend regaining her angelic wings: a guide by Charlie Morningstar, proud girlfriend of said girlfriend.

Things you SHOULD do with her new wings!

Notice them! (this is easy bc they are BIG and BEAUTIFUL with the soft grey faded colors of an overcast sky right before it rains and gives you an excuse to stay indoors snuggled in soft blankets drinking hot coco together back when everything was simpler and safe which is exactly what getting folded up in them will feel like later and- what? oh right! The list thing, um-)

Complement your girlfriend's wings! Maybe don't overwhelm her with a whole paragraph just yet though. Saying "They look nice!" works perfectly good. (waxing poetic can wait until Alone Time)

GENTLY touch the wings. But not too gently!!! Maybe hold the upper joint place, like a little handshake hello. (the feathers are attached to very VERY sensitive bundles of nerves for feeling out air pressure and drafts and stuff, Vaggie says, but they are TOTALLY NOT TICKLISH supposedly and the reason you shouldn't run your hands across them all nilly-willy whenever you get caught up in how pretty and soft they are is it messes them up and means they need preening again to make flying work right, and THAT'S why she jumps and squeaks about it. She likes keeping things tidy! That's all! No other reason. Noooope)

Things you should NOT do with her new wings!!!!!

Blow a giant raspberry right between them, where the feathers get all small and super extra downy soft, just to see what will happen.

Do the above in the middle of maybe KINDA making out....?

Tell absolutely everyone in the hotel about it directly afterwards.

Thing you WILL end up doing if you complete the above list

Spend the night on the bedroom couch: because you keep remembering the noise she made during the raspberry blowing incident, and giggling yourself and her awake about it.

Wake up in bed anyway: snuggled in your girlfriend's arms the same way you do any time you fall asleep in the wrong place and she has to come find you and carry you back with her so SHE can get some sleep too- only this time she also has WINGS!!! And her wings tuck around you so warm and strong, you'd swear you've felt this every time waking up with her before- only now the feeling is all around you, instead of just wrapped around your heart <3

You're still sleeping on the couch tomorrow though: At LEAST for the first part of the night. Or however long it takes before you stop giggling over hearing your totally an angel very serious former solider and absolutely Not a BIRD girlfriend Squawk.

Things to KEEP doing now your girlfriend has wings again!

Try better next time with the rule following??

Hope you're doing okay so far????

Help her with the preening!!

Stop giggling. Somehow.

Staring at them and spacing out is also okay as long as you say you're "acclimating" yourself to the "sudden change in a core aspect" of your life when someone catches you at it. They won't believe you- But! They'll probably just roll their eyes and let you get back to the staring. Acclimating. Whatever!

Anyway, good luck to whoever needs this! Hope this helps things go smoothly for you, Cherri Bomb!!

Also- Angel Dust, if you've read this far, then PLEASE don't tell Husk. Me and Vaggie PROMISED him not to give you ideas, and we don't wanna get banned from the bar again :(

Sincerely, Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell, Vaggie's girlfriend (!!!)

Note from Vaggie: You're doing great sweetie. And you're lucky you're cute when you laugh, even in your sleep. P.S. There's no 'supposedly' about it, my wings are NOT ticklshkSkk .... P.P.S. from Charlie: are you suuuure? <3 <3 <3

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #silly headcanons #silly ideas #no greater battle has vaggie faced #than charlie's realization she can get Funny Noises out of vaggie by messing with her wings #rest in gay pieces vaggie

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like

--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---

A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic

He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job.

They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list.

Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down.

You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe.

"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door.

A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head.

For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.

His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture.

That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you.

And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season.

You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him.

"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you.

Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true.

Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.

"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered.

As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks.

One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough.

He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper.

No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months.

My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.

A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way

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burntb4bydoll · 1 year ago

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hcs for tokio hotel when they’re jealous? i know george would be clenching his jaw SO hard and gus would have such a hard ass side eye

UGH I LOVE JEALOUS BOYS. SO HOT.

Tokio Hotel when they are jealous headcanons

Bill Kaulitz

•SO MANY DIRTY LOOKS OMFG

•hes literally looks like this 🤨

•obviously not at you, but at whoever hes jealous of.

•he sees someone else ‘stealing’ (in his words) your attention away for him and he immediately comes up behind you and hugs you from the back

•pda is not usually his thing, so yk somethings up. You can practically feel his jealously radiating off of him

•if you continue the conversation with the other person, he’ll get impatient and start to leave wet kisses down your neck. And hes making eye contact with the person while doing it

•loves getting you worked up by whispering in your ear

• “babyyyy~ lets go home so I can play with you, hm?”

• “ive been thinking about getting you alone all night��why dont we ditch this asshole and go back to my house?”

Tom Kaulitz

•if anyone’s getting jealous its definitely him

•You’re his. He doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

•definitely takes a more passive aggressive approach

•he wraps his arm around your waist and grabs you by your chin to kiss you right in front of the other person

•then he’ll just casually look at them after and go “oh hey. I didnt notice you here, my bad.” AND HES SMIRKING WHILE SAYING IT. HES SUCH A LITTLE SHIT

•he’ll ask them such ridiculous questions

• “arent they so pretty? Im lucky, I get to date this angel.”

• “wouldn’t you like to take them out on a date? They’re a real sweetheart, very nice to go out with.”

•LIKE SIR?? WE GET IT. THEY CANT HAVE YOUR S/O. CALM DOWN.

•will randomly stop talking to make out with you?? The other person ends up walking away because they were just sitting there watching Tom shove his tongue down your throat💀

Georg Listing

•silent type of jealous

•he’ll just watch the situation unfold. UNLESS they start getting a little too bold, then he’ll step in

•his jaw is basically locked shut. Hes sucking his cheeks in with frustration every time he sees you smile or laugh at whatever the person said

•eventually he gets sick of watching and hell walk over to where you guys were standing. He wraps his arm around your neck lightly and pulls you to rest your head under his chin

•then he turns the attention away from you and starts a conversation with the person instead

• “hey, who are you again? I don’t think I recognize you. Oh me? Yeah, Im their boyfriend.”

•he wont let anyone flirt with his s/o, especially when its right in front of him🙄

Gustav Schäfer

•LORD HES SO PETTY ABOUT IT

•literally giving them the biggest stink eye anyones ever seen

•if looks could kill, they would be long gone

•he stands next to you with his arms crossed, occasionally scoffing at whatever the person’s talking about

•he’ll chime in every one in a while to correct them on something just to make them look stupid. Again, hes petty😭

•LOL HE WOULD FAKE LAUGH AT WHATEVER JOKE THEY MAKE BUT ITS ONE OF THOSE OBNOXIOUSLY FAKE LAUGHS

•after a while the person is still not getting the hint that you’re taken, so he’ll put his hand on your ass and lead you away from them before you could finish talking

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winchesterwild78 · 2 months ago

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A Little Bit Stronger

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, body image issues, Dean being a dick, John being a dick, angst, light smut, assault

A/N: I was stuck in traffic on my way home today and my playlist started playing the song “A Little Bit Stronger” by Sara Evans, and it got me thinking about a story where the reader had dated Dean for years, they broke up and she’s dealing with the loss of their relationship. She’s learning how to move on, and she’s slowly getting better. Then out of nowhere, the green eyed hunter pops back into her life. Mention of Supernatural characters, but doesn’t follow the timeline.

I’m not sure how long this will be. Maybe a chapter or two, or maybe one really long chapter.

All work is my own, I don’t give permission for it to be taken or posted anywhere else. Feel free to reblog.

Minors DNI 18+

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

You pulled the blanket over your head when your alarm went off. Turning over after turning it off. Not feeling like getting up or going to work. Let’s be honest, you didn’t feel like doing much of anything lately.

Knowing you were going to be late you slowly climbed out of bed.

Getting out of bed used to be so much easier when you had something, well someone to look forward to.

You met Dean Winchester and his younger brother Sam about 10 years ago. They were on a hunt, the same one you were on too.

Of course you’d heard all about the Winchester Brothers. The ones Hell itself couldn’t hold. They were feared and respected in the hunter community.

You remember the night you met them, like it was yesterday. That was the night you fell in love with Dean. You were pretty sure he had fallen in love too, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

You were working on clearing a vampire nest, when these two giants came in and tried to take over.

You and Dean lunged at each other, both thinking the other was a vampire. Dean’s machete swiped against your collarbone, causing a gash to appear, and you to pass out.

“Dean, she’s not a vamp. Stop! You’re going to kill her!” You remember Sam yelling before you passed out.

Before Dean got that slice in, you were holding your own against him.

You woke up a few hours later to the soft whispers of the brothers, and the hum of an air conditioner.

When you went to sit up, you realized you didn’t have a shirt on. Just your bra. Grabbing the blanket and holding it up, you looked at the brothers. “What happened, where am I, and who the hell are you?”

Sam offered a soft smile, Dean sat with a tight jaw. “I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. You’re at our hotel. We brought you here to patch you up. When you and Dean were fighting, his machete cut you pretty bad. You passed out from blood loss, so we brought you here.”

Your eyes blinked a few times before talking, “You’re Sam and Dean Winchester?!” The boys exchanged a quick glance. Sam questioned, “So you’ve heard of us. Which means you’re either a monster, demon or hunter.”

“I’m Y/N, a Hunter. My parents were hunters and used to hunt with Bobby and Rufus. I grew up in this life, like you guys did.”

“Well, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I have to ask though, why are you hunting alone?”

“Oh, my parents retired so to speak and are living a quiet life together, my brother is married, with kids and a “normal” life. My boyfriend and I just broke up.”

You noticed the older Winchester kept his distance and his eyes locked on you. When you mentioned a boyfriend his jaw tensed more. Normally when someone is staring you down it makes you uncomfortable, but with him it made your heart race and your cheeks flush.

You’d occasionally make eye contact with him and you were completely mesmerized by his piercing green eyes. He would shift in his chair anytime you looked at him or bit your lip.

“Well thank you guys for patching me up. I need to get going though. Where’s my shirt?” That’s when you realized your pants were gone too. “And where are my pants?!” Panic filled your body.

Did they take advantage of you? Sam and Dean saw your panic. That’s when the eldest Winchester spoke. His voice was gruff and sent a shiver through you.

“Hey, calm down sweetheart, your shirt was ripped and covered in blood, your pants were too. We didn’t think you’d want to sleep in clothes covered in blood.”

Embarrassment rushed through you. “Yeah you’re right, sorry. I’ve just met my fair share of bad people. I didn’t mean to accuse either of you of anything.”

Dean stood and stepped closer to you, “it’s okay. Just know we would never hurt you.”

You were lost in each other’s eyes when Sam broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Guys I’m gonna grab some food. I’ll be back soon. Y/N, you like burgers?” “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you.” You softly smiled.

Sam left, closing the door behind him. Leaving you and Dean in the room together. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. Then you broke the silence, “Um, Dean. I really need some clothes. I can’t just walk around in my bra and panties. I don’t want to traumatize you or Sam.” You chuckled softly, but you meant it.

Sam and Dean were good looking and you’d heard about “Dean’s type”. You were far from it. Where he liked thin, flat stomach, busty women, you had a stomach, extra weight in places, you were thicker than most, and your breasts were slightly different sizes.

Dean looked at you, tilted your chin slightly and whispered “You could never traumatize me.” Red filled your cheeks and you bit your lip.

Was Dean Winchester really flirting with you? Most definitely not. Maybe he just sees you as an easy screw, cause you’d give in to him in a heartbeat, but you’d never been a love them and leave them person.

You pulled the sheet up more and tried to look away. Dean kept his hand on your chin, “I’m so sorry I hurt you sweetheart. I would have never hurt you if I knew you weren’t a monster.”

Feeing brave you stood up, sheet still around you, you touched his cheek, “I know Dean. It was an accident. I do still need some clothes though. Maybe a shower too.”

Before your brain could process what was happening, Dean leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “So beautiful” he whispered. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

Your mind was racing. Dean Winchester just kissed you. What the hell was going on?!

Your heart was pounding in your chest and ears as Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bathroom.

“Dean I can do this myself, I’m not that injured.” You tried to protest. “I know, but where’s the fun in that.” He winked at you.

Holy shit! Dean is flirting with me and that kiss oh my god. I never thought a single kiss could make me instantly wet.

You smirked at Dean, “What’s your plan Mr Winchester?” “Whatever you want Ms Y/L/N. I know what I want, but it’s up to you.”

“Dean I don’t know what to say. I’m not like the women you’re usually with. I can’t do one night stands.”

Dean stepped closer to you and pulled the sheet away, your breath quickened. He leaned down and crashed his lips to yours. Pulling your body flush to his. Your hands went behind his neck and into his hair. Moaning in his mouth you felt your body responding to his touch.

When his lips pulled back he said “Then don’t.”

That night Dean and you had sex in the shower, on the bed and the couch. You stayed with the boys after that. Your relationship with Dean deepened.

About three years ago you and Dean were talking about how your parents were able to get out of the life and live normally. You explained to Dean it was a hard process and one that took a lot of work on their part. They eventually made it.

Laying in Dean’s arms was your favorite place to be. Your head was on his chest and he mindlessly ran his fingers up and down your arm.

“I love you baby. So much. Marry me?” You gasped softly and leaned up, “Dean, do you mean it?” “Yes, sweetheart. I want to marry you and have children with you. If your parents could do it, I’m sure we can too.”

Tears streamed down your face, “Yes, Dean. I’ll marry you.” Dean pulled you into a kiss. When you leaned back he slipped a small diamond on your finger. “It’s beautiful, baby.”

He kissed you again. The past few years with Dean had been amazing. You both learned to navigate your love while you hunted side by side. Sam had found someone too, Eileen. She was his perfect match. The four of you were great together.

There was however one obstacle in your life, John Winchester. You’d met John a few times over the years, and each time the tension was palatable. You tried your best to charm him and get him to approve of your relationship, but he refused. He said you were nothing but a distraction and a way for Dean to pass the time after a hunt. The words hurt, but nothing could prepare you for what was to come.

The morning after Dean proposed, he called Sam and told him he finally did it. Sam and Eileen were over the moon. Then came the phone call that scared you the most. Dean had to call his father.

Dean sat beside you on the couch and called John. “Hello, Dean.” John’s gruff voice boomed through the line. “Hey dad, I need to tell you something.” “Dean if you’re about to tell me you fucked up and got Y/N pregnant I’ll beat your ass.” Dean’s eyes went wide, “What?! No, dad, she’s not pregnant.” You scoffed when you heard that. “Well, then what is it son?” “Dad, I asked her to marry me. She said yes. We’re getting married.”

There was silence on Dean’s end of the phone. The only sound was your heart pounding in your ears.

You reached for Dean’s hand and he pulled away, getting up. He started pacing the room, his jaw tight with anger and frustration. You knew John was saying something to him, because he was nodding and would occasionally let out a “Yes, sir.”

It seemed like hours before Dean hung up. When he hung up he looked tense. “Dean, what did he say?” “Don’t worry about it.” He snapped. You flinched at his tone. Dean had never spoken to you like that before.

You looked down at your lap and fidgeted with your hands, “Okay, Dean.” He stormed outside and slammed the front door behind him, making you jump. You were determined to find out what happened, and if Dean wouldn’t talk to you, then you’d go straight to the source.

Taking out your phone you dialed John’s number. A few rings later John answered, “What do you want, Y/N?” “Well hello to you too, John. I wanted to know what you said to Dean. He was mad and left.” “Good, he came to his senses. Look, you’re a nice girl, but you’re not right for Dean. He doesn’t really love you. The only woman he’s ever loved was Lisa. She’s a better match for him than you could ever be.”

Your breath caught in your throat, he’d never mentioned Lisa. “John, why are you so cruel? Dean loves me and we are getting married, whether you like it or not.” John laughed and you growled in frustration. “Keep thinking that, sweetheart. I need to go. Have a nice life, Y/N.”

He hung up and you were fuming.

You tried to call Dean but he didn’t answer. As the night wore on you slipped further into despair. Did Dean leave me? Was John telling the truth about Lisa, and does Dean really still love her? Why won’t he come home?

You softly cried until the tears wouldn’t fall. You curled up on the couch and fell asleep. Around daybreak you heard Dean stumble in. You sat up looking at Dean. He was drunk, and you noticed the faint smell of perfume and you saw a hickey on his neck.

“Dean, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” “Aww don’t be like that sweetheart, I was just having some fun. It’s been too long since I had any fun.” Your heart clenched at his words. “Dean, I don’t understand. What’s going on with you? You left without saying a word, came home drunk, smelling like another woman and you have a hickey. I thought you loved me, wanted to marry me.”

“Well you thought wrong. I was wrong. This (he motioned between the two of you) was fun while it lasted, but I think it’s time to move on.” You sat stunned, speechless. “Dean, you don’t mean that. You’re drunk and not thinking clearly.” “No sweetheart, that’s where you’re wrong again, I’m thinking very clear. You were right all those years ago, you aren’t my type. I mean maybe if you lost a little weight and actually tried to be pretty.”

You let out a gasp, and before you knew it you slapped him across the face. Your heart broke. “Dean, why are you doing this? What the hell happened?” “I’m finally thinking clearly, my dad reminded me that I’m truly in love with Lisa and she’s the mother of my child, Ben. I owe it to them to make it work.”

“Dean, please don’t do this. How can you just walk away from us?” “Easy, I’m packing and moving in with Lisa and my son. I spent last night with her and it felt good to be back in her arms.” You felt sick to your stomach.

Dean walked into your shared room and grabbed his duffel bag and started packing. You sat on your bed and watched him pack, silent tears falling. With each item he packed your heart broke more. As Dean put the last thing in his bag he glanced over at you. With a tremble in your voice you tried one last time, “Dean please don’t walk away from us. I love you, and I know you love me. Please don’t do this. We can figure this out.”

Dean just looked at you and grabbed his bag. You followed him to the door, “Dean, before you go, here.” You slid the ring off your finger and handed it to him. His eyes filled with sadness as more tears fell from yours. “I’ll always love you, Dean.”

He turned and walked out the door. You collapsed on the floor.

It was 3 years ago today that Dean Winchester broke your heart. You’re slowly getting better, but days like today, anniversary days are hard. You moved in with your parents temporarily, got a pretty good job working at the office your brother worked at, and now you had your own place.

As you opened your closet to get dressed for work you glanced over and saw the t-shirt Dean loaned you the first night you met. Your fingers lightly brushed over the fabric and the happier memories came flooding back.

You’d kept in touch with Sam and Eileen. They had since gotten married and had a little boy. They left hunting and Sam went back to law school, becoming a lawyer. You’d occasionally ask about Dean, and Sam would tell you he was okay. You also found out that John had died in a car accident about a year ago. You knew Dean would have been devastated.

You got to work about 10 minutes late. Sitting at your desk your mind wandered to the thought of Dean. You missed him so much, but with each passing day you got a little bit stronger. You knew you’d never fully get over him. He was the love of your life and you were supposed to marry him and have his children. Now he’s in the arms of another woman.

Your friend from work, Libby invited you to the bar with her and a few other colleagues. It was Friday and it had been a long week. At first you weren’t going to go, but decided to drink until you forgot him. You went home after work, changed and caught an Uber to the bar.

You decided to wear your jeans, low heel boots and a nice top that revealed just enough. You put your hair up in a messy bun and applied some light makeup. Stepping out of the Uber you saw Libby at the door. “Hey, Y/N! So glad you could make it.” She pulled you into a hug.

You and the rest of the people in your group settled at a table at the back of the bar. Drinks flowed and you were starting to get tipsy. One of your male colleagues, Ryan, came out too. He’d flirted a few times with you, but you never gave in. You, Libby and a few other girls got up and started dancing. Libby leaned into you and said “Don’t look now, but Ryan is watching you.” You glanced over and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You smiled at him. “Yeah, I don’t know.” “Come on girl, it’s been 3 years. You can move on.” You hadn’t thought about Dean all night, now he’s all you could think about.

“I’m, um, gonna get some air.” Libby nodded sadly. She knew how much you had loved Dean and how much it broke your heart. You grabbed your jacket and walked outside. Taking out your phone you scrolled through the pictures of you and Dean. You sighed sadly, “I miss you so much Dean. I miss how happy we were, how in love we were. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.”

Tears started to flow freely.

You stood outside a few minutes longer looking at the pictures of a happier time. The sound of a voice pulled your attention up. “Hey ya sweetheart.” That voice, you knew that voice. You looked up and saw Dean standing in front of you. He looked good. You were speechless.

“How are you? You look good, sweetheart.” “Dean…I…” Your words stuck in your throat. He stepped closer to you, and his thumb brushed your cheek. “Still as beautiful as ever.”

Fury filled your body after what he said, “Dean, what are you doing here?” You stepped away from him. “I was here at the bar tonight with some work buddies and I saw you. I needed to talk to you. It’s been too long.”

You scoffed, “It’s been too long?! Dean, you’re the one who walked away, not me. You threw our relationship away. You proposed and then the next day you slept with another woman and left me for her. Oh and let’s not forget I found out you had a kid I didn’t know about. I heard you were engaged again, Congratulations. I hope you and Lisa have a wonderful life together.”

You started to walk away, but Dean grabbed your arm, “Baby, please.” You tried to free yourself from his grip, “Don’t baby me. You lost that privilege when you chose another woman over me. It’s taken me 3 years to finally get to where I am. I don’t cry myself to sleep every night, and I don’t question my worth as much anymore. I was doing all of that because of YOU! I gave you everything, EVERYTHING! I loved you. I wanted to marry you and have your children. Goodbye, Dean.”

As you started to walk away you glanced at him one last time, “Just so you know Dean, I still love you. I wish I didn’t, but I will always love you.” You walked away, heading towards the bar so you could get your Uber. You needed to get away from Dean. Just being near him made your heart clench with pain and love.

Dean stood frozen, he had been keeping a secret from you he desperately needed you to hear, but would you listen? Would you really care?

Just as you reached the door, Dean grabbed your arm, “Y/N, please I need to tell you something.” You turned and looked into his green eyes, you saw pain, sadness and love. “Y/N, I love you sweetheart, I was a fool to push you away. I want to come home to you. Please baby.” You’d waited 3 years to hear him say that, but your heart was scared. You wanted him to profess his love to you, but was he being genuine? You were afraid what would happen if he wasn’t, you couldn’t bear to get over him again.

“Dean, it’s too late. You’re in love with Lisa, she’s your fiance and had your son. I can’t and I won’t compete with that.” He stepped closer to you, “Sweetheart, she’s not my fiance, we broke up, and Ben isn’t mine. She said he was, but he isn’t. I ended things with her because I realized I wasn’t in love with her. There’s been only one woman in my life that I truly loved, well love. Because I still do. I love you.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say. You said some really horrible things to me.” “I know, but I knew if I didn’t you wouldn’t let me go. I’m so sorry. I‘ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix this, fix us.” “Then why did you do it, Dean?”

“When I talked to my dad that day he played into my fears, my fears of losing you, of our children having to grow up without you or me. He also told me it was safer with Lisa and that Ben was mine. I’m sorry sweetheart, I believed him. My life has been miserable the past three years. There hasn’t been a single second where I didn’t think of you.”

You scoffed, “Then why did it take you three years?! If you were that miserable, why did you warm her bed for three years, while mine was cold? Dean, I can’t do this. Please just let me go.” You turned as the tears started to fall.

Making your way to the front of the bar, you called an Uber and waited out front for it. Standing outside waiting, Ryan came out of the bar to talk to you. “Hey, Y/N, leaving so soon?” “Yeah, I’m just tired and need to go home.” Ryan touched your arm, “Hmm that’s a shame. I was hoping to have gotten at least one dance with you.” You smiled softly as a blush filled your cheeks.

Ryan was a good looking man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about him. Maybe it was the raw emotions you were feeling, or the bravery brought on by the alcohol, but you leaned into Ryan and placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled you closer to his body and his hands went in your hair, deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth.

As the Uber pulled up you and Ryan climbed in. Not able to keep your hands off each other. Once in the car, Ryan started kissing your neck. You leaned your head back and as you looked out the window you saw Dean standing on the sidewalk with a look of shock and sadness on his face.

A few minutes later you and Ryan were walking into your apartment. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Clothes began to fly and hands roamed. You moaned into his mouth as his body hovered over yours. You hadn’t had sex with anyone since Dean.

Trying to push Dean out of your mind you decided sex with Ryan would help. As things heated up between you and Ryan, you grabbed a condom from the side table. Ryan slid it on and pushed in. You gasped at the feeling. He definitely didn’t give you time to be ready or adjust like Dean did. Ryan was rushing, you tried desperately to chase your release, but it felt like Ryan was only concerned with him. Stop! Stop comparing him to Dean! He’s not Dean, he will never be Dean.

Tears began to fall. You were about to tell Ryan to stop, but his lips crashed on yours in a forceful kiss. He wasn’t gentle at all. His thrusts were hard and angry. You weren’t enjoying yourself. Trying to slip your hand between the two of you, so you could get off, proved to be the wrong move. Ryan became angry, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “I’m trying to get off too.” “No! You don’t get to touch yourself. I’ll get you off.” “Well, you’re not going to fucking me like you are.” Ryan slapped you across your face.

You screamed in pain and tried to push him off of you. “Get the fuck off of me!” “No! You don’t get to start this then tell me to stop.” “The fuck I can’t! Get the fuck off NOW!” Just as you were about to knee him, you felt Ryan being pulled away.

When you looked up you saw Dean, he pulled Ryan off of you and punched him over and over. “She said get off of her! Don’t you ever fucking touch her again or I’ll kill you! Now get the fuck out!” Dean growled.

You’d grabbed the sheet and pulled it around you. Ryan grabbed his stuff and left calling you a whore under his breath. As soon as he was gone Dean was at your side, “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?” The tears started to flow freely as Dean pulled you into his arms. His sweet, protective arms. You buried your face in his chest and cried as he held you. “I’m sorry Dean. I left with him to make you jealous. This is all my fault.”

“No baby, this isn’t your fault. You’re okay now, he’s gone.” “And you’re here. Protecting me like always.” “I’ll always protect you, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

Dean helped you up and you went to the bathroom to clean up and check your face. There would be a bruise, but things could have been so much worse. You got cleaned up and dressed, when you walked back into your bedroom, you saw Dean laying on your bed with his boxers on and nothing else. “Come on sweetheart, get some sleep. I’ve got you.” He offered his arm and you curled up next to him. You laid on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you drifted off to sleep.

When Dean was sure you were asleep, he placed a soft kiss on your head, “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

Part 2…..coming soon

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @glenpowellheart

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x reader

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yxtubers · 1 year ago

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: everybody knows that they like each other, so matt decides to finally do something about it

warnings/notes: kissing? one use of Y/N, pining (sort of), happy ending

requested?: yes! number 19 “c’mere…” and number 29 “them being in denial but everyone else knows they are in love” from my dialogue and actions prompt list

also requested by others ↴

- matt and the reader being really good friends who clearly have feelings for each other and are always flirty towards each other, and after he goes on tour he realizes how much he needs her and just kisses her once hes back

- friends to lovers with Matt where they share secret kisses and affection and when his brothers ask whats going on he just realizes he needs to confess to her? :)

> > >

It’s always been painfully obvious how much you and Matt liked each other. Chris and Nick knew it, Madi and Nate knew it - hell, even the viewers could tell there was something more to your friendship than meets the eye.

The more you two hung out, the more the tension grew. It got to the point where Nick and Chris had began avoiding being alone with you two - unless the other was there to prevent them from being a third wheel. All of this was so evident to everybody. Everybody except, of course, you and Matt.

The triplets were on tour for the past few weeks.

Matt had been face-timing you pretty much any time he could - he would tell you about his day, you’d tell him about yours and remind him just how much you missed him, to which he would reply “I miss you too. I’ll be back soon”.

Almost every single call ended with an “I love you”.

Chris and Nick would just look at each other and shake their heads. Your obliviousness was cute, but becoming increasingly annoying to both of them.

How could you guys not realize that you liked each other?

Matt hung up another call from you, setting it down with a giddy smile on his face. He made eye contact with his brothers, only to blush immediately upon seeing their faces. They knew. Of course they did - everybody did.

“What?” he asked.

Chris just raised his eyebrow at him as if to say ‘seriously?’

“You both are so stupid,” said Nick before turning around and entering the hotel bathroom to shower.

This only made Matt’s face grow hotter as he looked at his younger brother for an explanation. Chris only shook his head as he looked at the ceiling for a moment.

He came up and patted Matt on the shoulder, giving him a pitiful look. “You gotta tell her, dude.”

And in that moment, Matt knew he was right.

It felt like everything in him just clicked. Like all the hidden, longing glances he’d send your way, and the small kisses of adoration he’d place on your forehead - finally made sense. He wondered how he held off for this long. Maybe he enjoyed having you to himself, keeping your secret and private conversations about the future close to his heart. They felt special - you were special to him.

But it was high time that he told you that instead of keeping it behind closed doors where only your tired, sleepy ears would hear. Where you would forget his declaration of love come morning. He needed you tell you, to make you hear it, to make you remember.

Matt fell asleep with a jumble of anxiety and excitement - or maybe they were the same thing.

That night, he dreamt of you.

- - -

He remembered it so vividly. It was practically engraved in his head forever.

You were sitting on the docks, staring out onto the water. Your skin glowed beautifully in the sun, your eyes sparkling with the reflection of the water. Something about the afternoon sun complemented you so perfectly.

He recalled wanting to stare at you forever.

“What’s going on up there?” your gentle voice called.

He appeared beside you then, sitting right by you, his shoulder brushing yours. Everything in your body was yelling at you to scoot closer, to press your arm against his. And so you did.

Matt could sometimes still feel your fingertips brushing his hair out of his eyes, even to this day. He could never get enough of how soft you were around him - how much fragility you treated him with. It was almost as if he was special; and to you, he was.

“Just thinking…” he replied, his words trailing off as he looked down at your hands. Your hands which were dangerously close to his.

His finger twitched needily, their desire to entwine with yours becoming unbearable.

“About?”

Your smile was infectious, and he could’ve help but join in soon after.

He shrugged. “Nothing in particular,” he responded.

Yet you both knew. You knew there was something in the air that day - something electric; intoxicating. He wanted to be closer to you, not that it was possible. Your elbows were glued together, and your eyes never left each other’s for even one second. Somehow, he still wanted more. He wanted you to be his, and him yours.

But he never got the chance to say it then.

- - -

Yawning, you checked the time on your phone. 11AM. Usually you would call Matt in the mornings. He would tell you how cute you looked all sleepy and grumpy, and you’d tell him to shut up before brushing your teeth together on face-time.

Today though, he didn’t answer.

You tried to suppress your disappointment as you brushed your teeth alone, the sound of the water being the only thing to keep your mind occupied.

Matt was always a constant in your life. No matter the time or day, he was there with open arms, beckoning you to him. There was never a moment where you were alone - both figuratively and literally.

He was your home. Only yours.

Some days you would use your spare key to get into the triplet’s apartment just so you could sleep in Matt’s bed, enveloped in his scent.

It’s not like it was the first time you’ve slept there. You and him shared a bed many times.

Today was one of those days. Walking out of Matt’s bathroom, your teeth feeling fresh, you began to make your way to his room.

You smiled as you were reminded of a vivid memory with him.

- - -

It was a week before he was set to go on tour. You were sitting at the edge of his bed, waiting for him to show you the new clothes he bought.

Kicking your legs back and forth, you playfully groaned at him to hurry up. His laugh reverberated throughout your chest, traveling from the bathroom straight into your soul, your heart clenching at the sound.

You could listen to it forever.

“Alright, alright. Whatd’ya think?” he said as he emerged from behind the closed door.

Your eyes dropped to his arms and chest, admiring his new sweater. The clothing hugged his body perfectly, engulfing him in what looked to be a really comfortable fabric.

Admiring how well the color matched his eyes, you almost didn’t notice his hand waving in your face.

“Hello? Anybody home?” he joked.

Eyes meeting his once again, you smiled. Somewhere in between there though, your gaze managed to fall on his lips for a split moment - a split moment that he did not miss.

Matt swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your stare. To you, he looked like the most handsome thing in the world. The way his hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring his view - the way his fingers twiddled with the sleeve of his new jumper - everything. It made him look all the more beautiful to you.

“You look pretty,” you said, eyes never leaving his.

He blushed before mumbling a quick thank you - making sure to add in the fact that he wasn’t pretty; he was a boy.

But in your eyes, he was the prettiest.

- - -

Your trip down memory lane was interrupted by the sound of keys jingling. The boys weren’t supposed to be home for another 2 days.

The thought made you worry. Had something happened? Was there an emergency? All of a sudden all you could think of was Matt. Had he gotten hurt?

Rushing down the hallway, you were met with a pair of frightened blue eyes. He hadn’t expected you to be here. He wanted to mentally prepare before he came to see you - but apparently he had no choice. This was happening now.

Your heart stopped in it’s tracks, breath hitching at the sight of him. He was absolutely breathtaking.

“Matt?” you breathed out.

Seeing him in the flesh made your head feel fuzzy. You hadn’t seen him in weeks - to be honest, it felt more like forever. You almost forgot how nervous he made you, how your legs turned to jelly around him - how your stomach erupted in butterflies every time he gave you that signature smirk.

You knew you missed him, but it surprised you just how much.

Noticing that his cheeks were dusted a rosy pink, you presumed it was from the heat - or perhaps from the tension in the room.

Matt dropped his bags onto the floor, his keys clashing down straight after. Footsteps advancing towards you, he began to make his way to you, a newfound confidence coursing through his veins.

Before you had a chance to speak, his hands were on either side of your face, pulling you in. It felt like he was a magnet, and you were a piece of metal being drawn to him.

Lips meeting in a flurry of desperation, you sighed in relief.

It’s as if him kissing you made you realize that he was real; and that he came home to you.

You ignored the scratch of his stubble as your hands flew to the back of his neck, the other one burying itself in his brown curls. This was better than you could’ve ever imagined.

Matt pulled away first, his breathing uneven and quick. His hands remained on your cheeks, thumb rubbing across your jaw momentarily.

Your eyes were still closed, relishing in the excitement of the moment.

Once you opened them, you were met with a dopey smile and an adorably blushed face.

“That was-“ you said, taking a breath.

“Yeah,” Matt finished, resting his forehead onto yours. His breathing was still rapid, but it was calming down, as well as his racing heart.

Your hands gently tugged his palms away from your face, holding them in yours instead. His wish came true as he finally laced your fingers with his. He felt like he could explode right about now.

Matt lifted his head so that he could look at you.

“Where did that come from?” you said as you giggled.

Matt simply smiled at you. “It was a long time coming. I should’ve done it sooner.”

It felt like you two stood there for hours, just longingly gazing at each other. Matt bit his lip in thought, his eyebrows creasing.

“Y/N?” he said.

You hummed in response, your eyes drooping at how content you felt.

“I love you.”

He had said it before, of course - but this time, you knew what he really meant. All the emotions he had been bottling up came flowing out with every syllable that left his mouth. You could see it in the way his brows were knitted together, in the way his hands squeezed yours, rubbing circles into your skin shamelessly.

“I know,” you said. “I love you too.”

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck before pulling him in. This was all you had wanted for the past two weeks. Just him.

“C’mere,” you said, hugging him tightly.

His arms found refuge around your waist, tugging you unimaginably closer. He breathed in your scent, finally feeling at home. God, he was hopeless.

Fingers wrapping around your waist and hips, he practically squeezed the life out of you as he held you to him. He never wanted to let go, and he was starting to think that maybe he wouldn’t.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against the crook of your neck. His voice was muffled, but you could still make it out.

“I missed you too.”

At last, he got what he wanted. He was yours, and you were his.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo x reader

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xenith-eats-stars · 18 days ago

Text

me and my buddy @cartoon-leafe came up with a ton of those “she [X] on my [X] till i [X]” memes, so here’s all of them

under the cut bc it’s a pretty long list

she 5 on my nights till im at freddy’s

she asriel on my photoshop till i flowey

he old on my man till i yaoi

she megalo on my vania till im stronger than you

she W. on my D. till i gaster

she tomo on my dachi till i life

she spring on my lock till i failure

she insane on my clown till i posse

she scott on my pilgrim till i defeat her 7 evil exes

she team on my fortress till i 2

she nagito on my komaeda till her rhinestone eyes are like factories far away

she tally on my hall till im hidden in the sand

she I/ on my Me/ till i Myself

she cicada on my days till i pack my stuff

she ink on my machine till i bendy

she X on my men till i mutate

she dwell in my vault till i fallout

she W on my M1 till i believe in magic

she Jack on my Skellington till im the pumpkin king

she amazing on my digital till i circus

she Honda on my Odyssey till i get chills, theyre multiplying

she Hazbin on my Hotel till i get redeemed

she Monty on my Gator till i wanna rock and roll

she pound my head till im against the kitchen floor

she hammer on my car till i explode

she pyramid on my head till im silent

she dungeon on my dragon till i roll a nat 20

she 9 on my 11 till i never forget

she laplace on my angel till i hurt people? hurt people!

she poké on my balls till i catch ‘em all

she rock and roll on me all night till i party every day

she lady on my bug till im miraculous, simply the best

she Miles on my Morales till im like what’s up danger

she ink on my splat zone till i splashdown

she calamari my inkantation till i stay fresh

she ebb on my flow till i dont get cooked

she anarchy my rainbow till i catch her later

she [[HYPERLINK BLOCKED]] on my [[KEYGEN]] till i become a [[BIG SHOT]]

she birds are singing on my flowers are blooming till kids like you burn in hell

she autism on my spectrum till i disorder

she obsessive on my compulsive till i disorder

she golden on my freddy till it’s me

she appreciate my skeleton till i can feel my mind unweave again

she animation on my meme till i headbop

she Chappell on my Roan till im hot to go

she azumanga on my daioh till i america ya!

she project on my diva till i mega mix

she little on my shop of horrors till i feed her to a plant

she watt on my pad till i lemon

she pop on my team till im epic

she fire on my paw till i alone will save our clan

she legends on my arceus till i make the first pokédex

she ponder my orb till i ruminate

she migrate my coconut till i swallow

she stardew on my valley till i farm

she visit my friend till im the visiterrrr

she my on my little till i pony

she swipe left on character ai till i ask her a question

she Mandela my Catalogue till i will know her greatest fear

she scarlet on my violet till i time travel

she star on my platinum till i the world

she hatsune on my miku till im the #1 princess in the world

she miracle on my musical till im alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune

she harpy on my hare till i bury all her children

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midnightfantasiez · 4 months ago

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[00:50AM] Taste Of You - Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: your boyfriend was convinced that he absolutely nailed the performance for the night, and he was also going to make sure that his partner was fully aware of every single detail he had shown on stage and finally indulge in his little reward after the show.

PAIRING: idol!Sangyeon x afab!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: possessive bf Sangyeon hihi 😃, TONS of kissing, hickeys, pretty much a hot yet soft steaming kissing scene in the hotel room and under the sheets 😀, teasing, mentions of oral (reader receiving), mentions of alcohol, Sangyeon is tipsy, dirty talk, Hyunjae makes a little cameo, petnames (baby, babe), a little spoiler on the zeneration 2 concert so beware, proofread once

WORD COUNT: 930

A/N: greetings🧍🏻‍♀️i apologise for being gone for so long irl has just been a total mess 😭 here's a little short one to make up for it; pls bear with me i haven't written in months so this ain't my best work 😭 but thanks to my precious sister wives @daisyvisions @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers for encouraging me & convinced me that this idea i had was doable ily 💗

Sangyeon isn’t a possessive guy. Well, at least when he isn’t tipsy or drunk.

Sure, he is the best boyfriend one could ever ask for—caring, gentle, and the most affectionate golden retriever-like guy stuck in a big muscular man’s body. He was someone you always craved for attention, obviously because you knew he always gave the best cuddles and hugs after an exhausting day.

It didn’t matter to him if he had the absolute worst or tiring day—he would always make sure that you were his number one priority, and taking care of you was always high up on his to-do list on a daily basis.

Many people would think that after a show, let alone a 4-hour concert, your idol boyfriend would be exhausted and crash straight to his hotel room to sleep in until the next morning. Instead, he would bring you to the best izakaya in town, having a little romantic late dinner while chatting away until midnight before returning to the hotel room to rest.

But not this time.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what made him snap because for one you were certain that he was in this tip-top condition today—he made no mistake on stage, had a solid one-minute solo performance during one of the songs, and hell even hit every single one of his high notes perfectly.

The moment he was done packing up and saying goodnight to all of the staff and managers, he quickly came to look for you and grabbed your wrist before dragging you away while conversing with one of the members. You’ll have to treat them to a meal as an apology because Hyunjae always ensured he was getting all the attention and would get sulky whenever he got ignored. (You will be blaming Sangyeon for this later on).

There weren’t many words exchanged before the both of you were back in your hotel room, and your boyfriend immediately slammed the door shut behind you before pining you against it, staring straight into your eyes before moving his vision down to your lips.

Without warning, he instantly closes the distance between you two, kissing you feverishly as if he were tasting your soft sweet lips for the very first time. A smile formed between the kisses as he tasted his absolute favourite mango lip balm he gave you on your birthday. Taking the scent from your lips, he moves them to your neck, earlobe, and eventually your collarbone—his favourite part to suck on.

Little by little, he began stripping you down and did the same for himself before transferring to the bed and under the sheets, kissing you nonstop and making sure that you too were devouring his scent and tongue as he wrapped his around yours.

He finally breaks the kiss off since you both entered the hotel room and spoke for the first time after meeting him backstage at the concert hall. “Tell me, how did you find the show tonight?”

“You never fail to impress me every single time,” you panted, trying your best to catch your breath before his lips connected back to yours and pushing them deeper each second.

“Did you like the new hair, babe?”

“You know that black hair just brings out the devil within you- It makes me go insane every time you tease me like that-”

He chuckled. “So my plan succeeded. Next, tell me about my solo performance. Walk it through with me, baby.”

“You’re so-”

Sangyeon pushes his tongue into your mouth hushing you for a second. “Nuh-uh, not the right answer. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“I- You’re insanely captivating to the point that I’m jealous that everyone else gets to see it…”

“So you’d rather I just put on a one-man show for you? Is that what I’m hearing, babe?” He now moves his kisses back to your neck, sucking them gently with the intention of leaving hickeys that will appear very visibly in a couple of hours.

Trying your best to not dive too deep into this particular topic because you know that Sangyeon wasn’t going to let you off the hook easily—hell, he’s going to tease you about it for god knows how long if you gave in to his indulgence.

The next time he moves his lips back up to meet yours, you quickly place your fingers onto his, stopping him from planting another kiss before you decide to turn the tables against him for a second. “Your breath stinks of whiskey.”

It took him off guard for a second as his eyes widened with your response, but you should’ve known that your boyfriend isn’t gullible and he’s quick to catch on, and within seconds he intertwined his fingers with yours, pushing them away before going in to seal his lips again with yours.

“Not like you haven’t tasted it before anyway. Besides, you’re going to taste so much better with that hint of alcohol on you,” he smacked his lips, and he quickly gave you a little peck before he finally decided to travel down in between your thighs.

“W-What are you doing, babe?”

Lifting his head up for one final look, a smirk was plastered across his face, and he gave you a silent warning—whispering softly about what he was going to do next.

One that you knew that you were going to be doomed as hell.

“Your little pussy is going to taste heavenly with the hint of whiskey on them, and I’ll make sure that you’re going to moan as loud as you can for me tonight.”

A/N: btw i am unwell after what he did during the concert....iykyk (which is also why i got inspired to write this the brainrot is horrible 😔)

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @mamuljji @synthwxve @j4edo @serinebsblog @daisyvisions @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers (join my perm taglist here!)

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coopigeoncoo · 7 months ago

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Meat Cute, Chapter 1

Chapter Links: Chapter 1 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour! ---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–-- A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Arriving in Hell had been a difficult adjustment, but you figured that was likely by design and not some personal failing on your part. You'd stumbled out of the gates of Hell right into the aftermath of what you now know was an extermination; alone and terrified amidst the burning rubble and mutilated corpses that littered the ground.

You were lucky in a sense, even though it didn't feel like it at the time. Everyone is usually pretty busy in the days immediately following an invasion from Heaven, too occupied looting bodies for valuables and deleting the newly deceased from their phone's contact list to give much attention to a new arrival. The Gates of Hell were usually swarmed by traffickers looking for new merchandise and mid-level thugs looking to make an easy deal for a soul or two, so you were able to slip through the cracks and wander the outskirts of Pentagram city largely unnoticed while most of the sinners were either still in hiding or sleeping off their celebratory hangovers.

Initially, you stuck out like a sore thumb, clad in the baggy dress that you'd been buried in; a garment that had likely been looted from your Grandmother's closet based on the large shoulder pads and unflattering mauve color. You figured that your family had deemed all the dresses you actually owned and liked as too inappropriate for funeral garb, which aligned with how they usually regarded your fashion choices. The fabric was uncomfortable, starched stiff and itchy against your skin, so you didn't feel any guilt about using your newly discovered claws to shred a slit into the back of the skirt to make room for your long and incredibly poofy tail.

Upon further examination in the cracked glass of an abandoned store front, you discovered that you also now possessed a set of rounded black ears atop your head and large, dark smudges around your eyes that made it look like you'd slept with mascara on for a week straight.

The powers that be had, apparently, found it suitable for you to spend the rest of eternity living as a raccoon.

And while you greatly preferred your animal form to many of the other, more intimidating body shapes prowling the streets of Pentagram City, looking what most people would consider adorable wasn't necessarily a desired trait in Hell. Wide-eyed prey animals were quick to disappear, materializing weeks later on posters outside of strip clubs and porn theaters.

You'd darted from the predatory glances of other sinners, spending your first nights in Hell sleeping curled up behind back alley dumpsters; tearing through the freshest smelling trash bags for scraps of food with a voracity that surely made your Raccoon forefathers shed tears of pride.

Repeatedly choosing to wander down the least sinister looking streets had inevitably led you to the heart of Cannibal Town, an antiquated borough that looked like it had been lifted straight out of the background of a classic movie. Naively, you had assumed that the more polished appearance of buildings and fixtures meant that the area was safer than the dilapidated city center you had wandered in from. That notion had been quickly dispelled when you stumbled across a group of middle aged women sitting on a park bench, merrily chatting as they took turns ripping hunks of flesh from an obviously human leg with their sharpened teeth.

Thankfully, the abundance of readily available, post Extermination sinner flesh kept the cannibals well satiated and dissuaded them from making you the victim du jour. That, and the fact that more than one cannibal had gleefully admitted to you that they found raccoon meat too gamey for their liking.

You'd managed to secure a job fairly easily, with numerous businesses looking to fill vacancies from recent employee murders. In the end, you'd settled on working at a small butcher shop a couple blocks away from the main promenade. You'd been unwillingly charmed by the store's on the nose name, ‘Time to Kill’, and the fact that it supplemented your meager paycheck by providing you with a small room above the storefront to live in.

Hal, the owner of the store, was a heavy-set man with a bushy mustache that wouldn't look out of place attached to a broom handle. He'd been admittedly skeptical about your potential as a butcher when they had to tuck a bucket into the back room for you to throw up in after the first half-dozen times you'd hurled when breaking down your first carcass.

But you'd slowly grow accustomed to the grizzly task, focusing on the fact that you were cutting up meat and ignoring that it was likely human in origin. Hal was pleased by your hard-working nature, but mostly he was thrilled by the fact that you didn't help yourself to a five-finger discount like the rest of his employees did.

“Seriously,” Hal had said, his mustache twitching in displeasure . “They're eatin’ all the fingers!”

Day after day passed without much distinction, working from sunup ‘til sundown hacking up bodies for pennies on the dollar. It wasn't much of a living, but since technically you weren't even living at all, you did your best to be content with your lot in death.

After all, it was your discontent in life that had landed you here in the first place.

And if waking up in literal Hell wasn't a wake up call to turn over a new leaf you didn't know what was.

You were coming up on the first anniversary of your arrival in Hell and the citizens of the Pride Ring were all in a tizzy trying to stock up on supplies to last through the impending Extermination. Drug dealers were working double shifts to keep up with demand and the liquor stores had long since sold out of their top brands and had switched to selling bathtub gin to supply their customers with.

The line outside of Time to Kill was already wrapped around the block by the time you had flipped the deadbolts, barely managing to escape being crushed by the door as it crashed open; a densely packed group of cannibals rushing inside. You'd fled from the crowd into the back workroom, taking up your post at a carving station with a cleaver in hand, ready to do your part to supply the hungry masses.

The hours bled together as you skinned and chopped, filleted and ground; so focused on the tasks before you that you didn't realize your coworker had been calling your name until they slapped their hand firmly down onto your shoulder.

“You okay?” They asked, glancing at your dewy face with concern.

“Oh- yeah, I'm alright,” you assured them, placing your cleaver down across the cutting board and wiping your bloody hands on a nearby towel. “What's up?”

“It's your turn up front,” he said, gesturing towards the front of a store with his stubby thumb. “Ms. Rosie is here.”

“Ms. Rosie?”

“Yeah, she's the Overlord here in Cannibal Town,” your coworker explained, elbowing you out of the way to take your place at the cutting station. “Fresh Meat deals with the Overlords- shop rule.”

“Oh,” you murmured nervously, wandering over to the sink to wash your hands.

“Might want to hurry up, there!” one of the other workers called over her shoulder as she dropped a bunch of bone fragments into an awaiting bin. “Your chance of survival decreases every minute you keep an Overlord waiting!”

You slammed the handle of the faucet to the off position and quickly took off to the front counter, your coworkers laughing raucously at your expense while you frantically wiped your hands dry on your blood-spattered apron.

The politics of Hell were still largely unfamiliar to you. But even though you did your best to keep your head down and nose in your own business, you'd gleaned a little knowledge from snippets of overheard conversation in the butcher shop. You weren't entirely sure what Overlords did exactly, but you knew that in order to become one you had to be powerful.

So it was with great trepidation that you stepped into the front of the store, doing your best to hide how absolutely terrified you were, but knowing your stiff legged gait and tight smile likely gave you away.

The tall, elegant form of Ms. Rosie wasn't what you'd been expecting. While dressing up was the norm in Cannibal Town, Rosie took it to a new level; looking as though she never let a fabric less expensive than silk grace her form. But despite the absolutely enchanting picture her elegance painted, the aura of raw power she exuded prickled your skin and caused your tail to poof up in an instinctual, and utterly useless, bid for intimidation.

“Well, look at you!” Rosie drawled, her dark eyes widening in delighted surprise as you approached the counter. “It's been a while since we've gotten someone new in town. Where've you been hiding, sweetheart?”

“Uh- my room, mostly,” you manage to stammer out, nervously smoothing down your ruffled tail fur.

“That's a real shame, keeping a cute face like yours all cooped up!” Rosie cooed. “How long ya’ been living in my part of the city?”

“Nearly a year now, Ma'am.”

“A whole year?” Rosie gasped. “You weren't kidding ‘bout keeping to yourself, huh?”

Not really knowing what else to say, you opt to helplessly shrug before reaching for an order pad and pen.

“So, uh- what can I get for you today, Ms. Rosie?”

“What's still available?”

“I won't lie, it's pretty slim pickings right now. But I was just working on a pretty nice looking rack of ribs if you're interested.”

“Ribs it is then,” Rosie smiled, patiently waiting as you disappeared to the backroom and returned with multiple wrapped bundles of meat, all cinched together in a stack with fraying twine.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, passing the stack of meat to one of the well-dressed attendants waiting beside her. “Add it to my tab, will ya’?”

“Of course, Ma'am,” you agreed readily, sliding the sale record underneath the cash register tray for Hal to deal with later.

“Oh, and sweetheart?” Rosie called out, catching your attention, as you moved to assist the next customer in line. “If you make it through Extermination Day, make sure to swing by and visit me for tea sometime, will ya’? I'd really like the chance to get to know ya’ better.”

And despite every neuron of common sense and self-preservation screaming at you to decline the invitation, you gritted your teeth and quickly nodded your assent; swallowing thickly when Rosie bared her teeth in a delighted, feral smile.

You knew better to say ‘no’ to an Overlord.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x female reader #alastor x female reader #pigeoncoos🕊

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chaosisalwayscrying · 10 months ago

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i NEEEEEED a chris or matt x british reader cos there just never is any and i just want. i’ve asked before but they lowkey just kept on saying “it’s chewsday innit” over and over again 😭

LONDON GIRL

⇥ synopsis : matt goes to with his girlfriend to the place she grew up, london

⇥ warnings : none :)!

⇥ extra : ummm i hate this 😝 its been pushed back sm cause of school AND i rewrote it sm cause i hated it. i hope this is good enough 😕 ty for the request anon!!

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

you and matt had met at an influencer party, after you had just moved in with friends in LA from london. they were big in the influencer scene and decided to drag you out. of course, they ditched you in favor of drinking and flirting with whoever possible, but you weren't interested in even speaking until matt ran into you.

when you turned, it was like love at first sight. he frantically apologized for almost knocking you over, and when you spoke and he heard your accent, he fell harder. your thick accent was so attractive to him, and he was asking for your number before his brain could even process it.

you gave it to him, figuring that nows the time to make new friends.

and now, a year later, you're in a happy 8-month long relationship. matt was nothing short of amazing, he pampered you and make you feel special every day.

so, when you decided to go back to london for week to visit, you drag matt, chris, and nick with you too.

"are you sure its ok we come back to london with you pretty? dont you want to visit family and go around alone?" matt asks, watching you from his place on the bed.

"i wanna show you all my favorite places matt, and we can explore and shop with your brothers!" you return, a wide grin on your face as you turn to look at him. you were in the middle of packing you and matts clothes in a suitcase.

matts heart swells as you smile at him, before asking for the tenth time if you wanted him to help.

"no it’s ok, i like to pack stuff. plus i wanna organize it. we already set out our outfits so i just have to pack them" you say, turning back to the suitcase and placing a shirt on your side.

"oh! actually, can you go pack the toiletries? i wrote out a list of all the stuff, it should be on the vanity with the bag" you ask, not turning as you hear him get up and shuffle around.

"of course, ill be back" he said, coming up behind you and kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“thank youuu!” you say in a sing-song voice as he walks out, blush burning on your cheeks from his actions.

by the time you had packed you and matts things, it felt as if your whole wardrobe was packed up all over again. when you had gone upstairs to check on chris and nick, nick was sat on top of the suitcase as chris tried to zip it, making you laugh for a good few minutes.

once you stopped laughing at their expense, they practically begged you to help them reorganize and pack, to which you obliged with a smile.

—————

landing in london was like sweet relief, the plane was uncomfortable and there was a lot of turbulence, and you had gotten so dizzy and nauseous at a point you had to lock yourself in the plane bathroom.

the plane rides were brutal, from la to boston, then to london in the same trip was sure to take a toll on anyone, but the triplets had never flown that long before and it was definitely taking its toll. chris could barely order the uber for all of you, and matt almost missed your shared luggage and grabbed someone elses.

the next few days were chaotic, magical, and felt completely unreal. you and the boys started off your week by exploring some little shops close to the hotel, not wanting to go too far because of the jetlag still wearing off.

the day after that, you dragged the boys around to all the tourist locations possible. nick and chris were so eager to get cool pictures and film for their channel, that you and matt were able to have nice quiet moments and cute pictures (courtesy of nick and chris).

when you were near big ben, chris and nick had gone off to an obvious tourist shop to get stupid shirts and whatever else they could find, leaving you and matt on a bridge nearby as the sun began setting.

"y'know," matt began, turning from the sunset to look in your eyes. "i’m really happy you invited us on this trip. seeing the place you grew up from your perspective and exploring your favorite spots feels so special. i love you" he smiled, leaning in for a kiss right after.

the kiss was soft and sweet, matt holding your hips as your hands rest on his cheeks. as you part, you hear obnoxious cheers from certain boys a few feet away. you blush furiously as matt turned around with a playful scowl on his lips.

“you guys suck!” he calls, a chuckle breaking his angry facade. he turns back to you and playfully rolls his eyes, though in his head he was hoping his brothers got photos of them in front of the sunset.

“im glad you’re having fun, matty. i was scared you’d hate london” you smile, finally responding to his previous comment. matts expression morphed into disbelief, which made you laugh.

“hate london? i love it here! minus most of the food, but other than that i love it here baby, im so happy you invited us.” he smiled, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips.

you smiled too, happy that he and his brothers were having so much fun in london, a place so beautiful and near to your heart.

ove the next few days, you and the boys explored the city some more, finding cute boutiques and cringey tourist shops alike. all the shopping you did made it hard to repack your bags and fit everything, and you had to get nick and chris to sit on your suitcases to get them shut.

you would say the trip was a success, you got to revisit all your favorite places and make them even more special as you made new memories there.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies @billkaulitz0630

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yuzukult · 6 months ago

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untitled teaser | hvc & reader

title: currently untitled pairing: vernon x fem!reader/oc rating: rated m for final fic genre: angst, fluff, smut, wealthy!vernon, unrequited love!au (on both sides, it gets flipped lol... idk it's a confusing one) wc: 10k+ (ongoing) warnings: clubbing, adult themes, oc tries to seduce vernon lol, grinding...... idk just club things a/n: this is what i have been working on instead of actually finishing my own series HAHA i currently don't have a title but if you wanna give me some ideas lemme know ,,,, currently the doc title is "attention"

The burst of blackberry, a tart aroma with hints of bay leaves and cedarwood, has you intoxicated over his cologne alone. His slicked back chestnut brown hair, the calmness he exhibits, and his quiet, mysterious exterior is supposed to make him seem unnoticeable; yet for some reason, he’s always the most attention-grabbing in a room full of people.

Besides his handsome looks, he’s wealthy. The thickness of his bank account doesn’t present itself through his narrow, slim wallet, mostly because he doesn’t showcase the worth of his business unless it’s an obligation. He’s successful, yet remains humble about it; his clothes are made from the luxury brands without it embossed on the outer material, instead the names are stitched inside to keep himself modest.

His car is the only thing that advertises the amount of digits that his business profits. The fastest, sleekest, and illustrious cars are the ones that he owns—from Corvettes to Teslas to Bentleys—he collects a plethora of them, those three barely denting all the marques, he finds himself indulging in that category and limits it to just that. Fine dining isn’t a necessity, but he does it for ventures required by his company. Expensive hotels and stays are just for comfort, but not something he needs, understanding that it’s more of a want if anything.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is just that guy.

Apart from all of that, Vernon is still an average person—other than the fact that you practically drool over the sight of him and he’s in the 1%. He’s sweet and kind, a general minimum trait that men should have, but he’s also good at overextending himself when people need him to. Last year, he hosted a gala for the Children with Cancer Foundation, earning more than enough donations and then on top of it matching the amount that was donated from others.

Geez. Even your panties are getting drenched at the thought of him just busting out that fucking power move.

Unfortunately, as much as you boldly put yourself out there, Vernon is unavailable. Emotionally, probably, but mostly because he clearly states that you just… weren’t his type. You’re not a mirror of him; there’s never saccharine words that leave your lips unless it’s to seduce, donating to charities isn’t really on your list of priorities, and to be quite fair, you weren’t much of a charming go-getter as he is either.

Opposites attract you’d try to justify, but to Vernon, that’s not enough.

Your gripe with Vernon isn’t because he rejected you—it’s that he rejects you but still likes to be… around you. When you’re out on Friday and Saturday nights, your mutual friends lead the group to hang, and when he hears your name included in the list of attendees, he’s there. Even after a long day of dealing with difficult people, you can expect to see Vernon there in his white dress shirt with the first couple buttons unraveled, resting on one of the couches at a table in the VIP lounge, legs parted in his trousers.

He’s just sitting casually, but he looks like he owns the place.

“You sure you don’t wanna date?” you ask, lips almost brushing against his outer ear as he lets out a soft chuckle and brings his glass of whiskey on ice to his mouth. The music is loud, booming in the speakers of the dim club with strobe lights, making it hard to have any decent conversation but to be honest—who is even trying to talk here when their bodies should be?

“You’re pretty,” he admits, his chocolate swirls of eyes locking with yours. “And—I’m attracted to you. But for dating… you don’t really fit my criteria.”

Criteria. He says it like he has a checklist for the girl he wants to date.

Despite constantly hitting on him, you knew your limits for the night. Patting his clothed thigh with your manicured hands, you lean in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Okay, then I’ll leave you for the night. Maybe I’ll try again—but for now, I’m not gonna let today be ruined because Vernon Chwe said ‘no’ to me,” you smirk, pulling down the hem of your dress before standing up. Gesturing to a friend, she excitedly gets up from her seat before shuffling to you. “Let’s go dance!”

Vernon is a liar.

He likes you—a lot. The way you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as if he still can’t see how far your jaw drops when you’re cackling. His favorite view is when you’re just tipsy enough that your hooded eyes become more alluring, cheeks hot from the alcohol, and your words slurring with weighted truths to them. The last time you were drunk, you admitted that you wanted his dick in your mouth. Vulgar but… still honest.

Dating you meant drama—well, dating in general meant drama, and Vernon knows how you are. You’re not labeled a “drama queen” per se, but you are definitely quite the handful. He saw how defensive you got when a random guy at the club turned down your friend Sana because her nose was a little too big; those earrings were unlatched, dropped into Sana’s palms and somehow your shoe was in your hand, ready to swing.

Okay—he concedes. He kind of enjoys seeing you be like that.

Vernon is calm, cool, and collected. With you being the opposite, he’s not sure if being with someone that intense is good for him. You’re not who people expect to stand by his side when he’s at a banquet or when he’s on those business trips—your party lifestyle reminds him of those people who don’t ever settle, live on breaking hearts, and he’s partially afraid he’ll just be another number on your list of another one you’ll hurt.

Not to mention that he’s not entirely sure that you’re the type of girl his parents would like if they met you.

You’re entertaining, he’ll agree to that, but you're far from someone who could be his more. You’re aggressive, overly outspoken, and worst of all, you do weird things to him.

You’re the cause for his heart stuttering—he almost mistook it for a heart attack—and you’re the reason why he paces back and forth when he accidentally said something that was borderline offensive in the midst of vetoing the chance of ‘us’ yet again, concerned that those harsh words are why you don’t return his texts. Only then, he realizes you’ve napped through the afternoon and didn’t get a chance to check your phone. And even on those really arduous days where his clients tend to be a little more finicky than usual, you still manage to make him laugh and feel the burden lift from his shoulders. How are you able to do those things to him without much of an effort?

Yet, at the same time, you’re also the pounds of stress that replaces the burden.

Especially at times like these.

There’s a lot of things about you that he likes, but one of the things he doesn’t like is how quick you're on your feet when he turns you down. It barely takes minutes or even seconds after he says ‘you’re not my type’ before you down a couple shots and head to the dance floor with your ass against some other guy’s crotch.

“Oh,” Vernon’s friend, Mingyu, sings in amusement. “She’s dancing with Minghao.”

Vernon furrows his brows. Who the fuck is Minghao? Not all the words that pour in his thoughts spill from his tongue. “Minghao?”

Mingyu nods, mid sip of his cognac. Cognac isn’t much different from whiskey, as much as people think—the only thing disparate between the two is that cognac derives from grapes and whiskey comes from grains. Vernon just prefers his whiskey over cognac; he can’t actually tell them apart, but he just… favors the one more than the other.

“Yeah, Xu Minghao. Heard he fucks… like well.”

Vernon scoffs. “… He fucks. Like well?”

Mingyu nods, lips pulling into a straight line as he swirls the drink in his hand. The condensation falls, dripping onto the fabric of his jeans but he could care less, especially when his own girlfriend is on the dance floor beside you, who wasn’t Vernon’s own. “Yeah, my girl heard from a couple of her friends that he’s good with his hips.”

With a quirked brow, Vernon licks his teeth. “You sure that it’s not your girlfriend’s experience we’re talking about here?”

Mingyu narrows his gaze. “Don’t play. Just ‘cause the one you’ve been eyeing suddenly captured Minghao’s attention doesn’t mean that you can jab me like that. Least I can commit.”

Puffing up his cheeks, he doesn’t even bother turning to look at Mingyu when he throws his sharp response. Nothing can avert his attention away from you, especially when you’re fixated on Minghao, your hand atop his as his own rests against your hips with your back pressed against his chest. Is this what you’re into? Some guy with blue hair, similar to the label on a Dasani water bottle or marginal Sonic the Hedgehog?

“I don’t have commitment issues,” he counters through his gritted teeth. When did he clench his jaw so tightly, and why does he feel his fist balling up? You’re not his, after all, and yet he’s acting like you are.

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

Vernon doesn’t even think. It’s out of character for him—what he often does is plan out his moves before making them. When it came to work or even what he wanted to meal prep for the rest of this week, Vernon always thought things through. Vacation? He’s already got an agenda. Dinner with friends? He’s got reservations at four different restaurants. Just pick one.

But you? You drive him absolutely insane. He can’t predict anything with you, and he doesn’t have a plan on what to do with you.

Before you know it, he’s on the dance floor—an unfamiliar place for him because Vernon isn’t the type to bust a move even when he’s intoxicated but tonight, he’s a bit offbeat. Maybe he had too much of the whiskey, or maybe he caught some secondhand smoke from the guy taking a puff of a joint but nonetheless, he’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist and tugging you into him.

“What—”

“I don’t like you rubbing up against him.”

Mouth slightly agape, you step back from him. “Okay, and? You're not my boyfriend.”

He sucks in his cheeks irritably. He knew rejecting you would eventually bite him in the ass. “I just don’t like it.”

“You don’t get to tell me what you like and don’t like,” you retort, rolling your eyes before pushing your hair back. “Now if you would excuse me, I’m going back to Minghao.” But before you could get away, Vernon pulls you back. The impact of your cheek against his chest is a harsh one—but not… a bad one.

It… kind of turns you on?

But you’re not gonna let him know that.

He exhales out a deep breath. “Okay, then fine. Be my girlfriend.”

You choke on your spit.

“Wh-What?”

ok the end lets hope i finish this one and that it's a banger

#vernon x reader #vernon fanfic #vernon smut #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt smut

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years ago

Note

DON'T tell me you too hc Shanks as the shameless pervert??!! Like the type that's very comfortable with sex and very experienced DILF lmao 😭

Corruption kink?? I thought it was obvious 🙄

That guy could talk about the nastiest kink the same way he talks about the groceries 😩 "...and then she nearly passed out! Haha, I think it's cuz she had all her holes-" "SHANKS-!! OMG- YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT-!!" but you low-key love it when he does

😭😭😩😩

A/N: YKW…. if you don’t mind imma use your amazing response to blast Shanks kinks because why not Ahahah

Shanks Kinks/What Turns Him On (NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: KINKS, It’s Pretty Short General List, I Believe He Has More, But These Scream “Shanks”💀

Kinks:

Corruption Kink: He will swear up and down that he doesn’t have one of you tell him, corruption? Absolutely not he loves women he would never—

Shanks loves seeing a pretty innocent thing like yourself not having a clue in the world how to please a man. He can get off on the thought alone of how embarrassed you’d be learning about taking his cock and not knowing how to handle it and so after one night of partying and charming he starts you off by having you face the mirror in his room, air making your nipples erect and naked on his clothed lap. “There you go…ah ah keep looking in the mirror for me.” He guides your hand to rub your clit teaching you how to touch yourself, “It’s okay you can cum…” You whine and grind your hips on his and your own hand. It won’t be long until he shows you how to properly use your mouth. Knowing he took something so important and sacred is a form of ownership that he gets riled up of feeling.

Exhibitionism: Shanks has little to any care about the consequences of ignorant decisions. He could care less.

He totally doesn’t mind a show as long as said person doesn’t get too close. There are plenty of times Shanks didn’t have time to take a woman back to the ship or the hotel and just did a quickie in a bar hallway or an alleyway. Ironically he still haven’t been caught.

Dirty Talk: If he is feeling sweet he will describe what he is going to do to you, but if he is feeling like a little brat he won’t be above making you describe to him what you want him to do—

“Yeah? And then what?” You’ve been on the edge for what seems hours with his fingers and tongue switching places in your aching cunt. Your legs were embarrassingly spread open because he tied them up at the end of the bed posts. He constantly swirlied the tip of his wet muscle on your clit, driving you mad, you could have just grabbed his head to shove his entire mouth inside you, but you knew better than to disobey Shanks. “Then….I—ah! Want you…” “Want me to what, darling? Hold you? Feed you?—“ “Fuck me, Shanks! I want you to fuck me with you cock please!!”

Breeding: I mean is this even—-hello..he’s a certified dilf.

Ironically he does try to practice safe sex when he used to screw random women on the grand line, but Shanks has no problem with fucking the woman he loves raw. When he is close your body is pulled in even closer, he’ll be damned if any of his seed is wasted. His arm pushes your pelvis higher into his, this is usually when he starts to make more noise grunts and cursing in your ear. He wants you to cum with him because the feeling of how you clench still sucking him and his cum in makes his mind go numb. Sometimes if any does drip out he’ll scoop it and finger it back in you regardless of the painful overstimulation. Because he hates to waste.

What Turns Him On:

Walking around naked: I mean it’s pretty obvious pretty much any man loves to see their woman naked, but when he is greeted with you in nothing, but your ass as you bend over the bed to grab something, he won’t think twice to fuck you right there with his cock out of his pants, too eager to get completely nude.

Teasing Him: He is the master at making you flustered. Even though it’s damn near impossible to make him blush even when he’s drunk, It’s just something about when you feel bold enough to say something back at him or even whisper in his ear how badly you need him that really perks up an honest smile and an honest hard on.

The Way You Moan His Name: He cannot get enough of it. It’s so soft, and breathless sometimes while he is in missionary with you he will groan in your ear “Say my name.” Repeatedly Sometimes you can use it to tease him in public to rile him up. Fair warning though, if he is in a slightly annoyed mood you’ll pay for it later.

#shanks x y/n #shanks x you #shanks headcanons #shanks imagine #shanks smut #Shanks x Black reader #Shanks x female reader #shanks one piece #one piece shanks

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gretavangroupie · 7 months ago

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 18.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Oral F! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

Thirteen hours.

It had been thirteen long hours since you last saw Jake, leaving your room in a hurry of flustered nerves. You were dreading it, but he was nowhere to be found this morning, not a sight or sound from him since late last night. It had been ten hours since his text, coming to you far too early in the morning for your liking. He was sorry. Of course he was sorry. The text came so early in fact, that part of you wondered if he was just arriving back to the hotel from the amp situation, or if he was tossing and turning in his bed in much the same way you were. You loaded into the van bright and early with Wes and Paul, secretly wondering where he was or if he was going to show up at all, but if you had to guess he was likely passed out in his bed five floors up.

Your market list today was short, only a few things for Josh and Sam and the noticeable absence of normal requests from Jake. You didn’t think much of it, getting what you needed before making the trek back to the venue. You took the spare second to give Ruth a quick run down and she was just as confused as you were. For once in her life she had nothing to say. She was speechless and you didn’t blame her.

She insisted you reply to Jake’s early morning text, but you couldn’t. You had no idea where to even start. You wanted to move forward and forget it ever happened, and in order to do that you needed to leave last night behind you. Right? You know that when you do see him today though, things will be tense. Maybe even a little awkward. You take solace in the fact that you will be busy the entire day, making it fairly easy to avoid him and forget about everything, you hoped.

You made your way back into the crew area, flashing your shiny laminated badge to security as you juggle the paper bags in your arms. You navigate the winding corridors of the venue hearing the sounds of rumbling bass and guitar echo through the halls, finding yourself smiling at the fact that this was a sound not many people got to experience. Jake must have made it here after all. Familiar voices laughing a few feet ahead of you snap you back to reality. You see Mia and Lyla hanging out in front of the greenroom, looking at something on one of their phones just as they spot you.

“Y/N! Hey!” Mia shouts, waving you over, “C’mere!”

You turn to head over towards them, stopping short as Lyla grabs one of the bags from your arms. “I’ll take one of those!”

“Oh, thanks!” you smile, feeling Mia place her hand on your arm.

“We just were talking a little while ago about how much fun we had with you yesterday. I know you don’t really know us that well yet, but you are welcome to hang with us whenever you want. Seriously. We want to get to know you, we need another girl on our side!”

“That’s so nice! Thank you so much, I appreciate that, really,” you answer, adjusting your grip on the bag in your hand. “I will take you up on that, yesterday was really cool.”

“Yeah, so what did you get into after we went back to the hotel?” Lyla asks, tilting her head a bit.

“Oh, I just…I went to my room and hung out for a while, went and did a little sightseeing of my own and ordered room service and fell asleep. I was pretty exhausted after walking all day,” you say, bending the truth just a touch.

“Huh, well, call us next time, hate for you to go out all alone,” Mia says, raising an eyebrow as she turns to Lyla. It almost seems as if she's waiting for you to correct her.

It strikes you as a little suspicious but you know better than to play into it. “Yeah, absolutely. But hey I have to go get this set up, they will be looking for it any second.”

“Yeah yeah, no problem, go, I know how Sam gets,” Lyla laughs, handing the bag back to you.

“Thanks again, I’ll find you two later!” you shout over your shoulder.

You rush into the greenroom, furiously arranging the food and drinks before soundcheck finishes. You want to get things set up, done, and be gone before they ever step foot in the room. Sure you told yourself you were going to be mature about things, but you weren’t going to put yourself in the line of fire. In fact, you had yet to see any of the guys today, and part of you was thankful. Trying to make awkward small talk with them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now.

You wipe your hands on your pants as you finish placing the drinks into the cooler, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket.

Paul

3:43PM: Need another case of Topos and a bottle of soda water please

Fuck, where was this text an hour ago?

You

3:44PM: No problem, be back soon.

—

Two stores and thirty minutes later you are walking back to the venue, braving the cold with the case of drinks and bottle of soda water in hand. Your jacket is zipped all the way up to your neck, and still the wind is whipping right through you. You can see the venue gates a block away but the wind is making it feel like ten. Again you flash your badge to security, the burly man opening the gates to let you into the back parking lot. As you turn the corner to approach the entrance, you’re stopped in your tracks. Standing outside the doors, leaning against the brick wall is Jake. Of course.

He doesn’t see you, not yet at least. His back is turned a bit to cut the wind. Clad in only a t-shirt and his corduroy jacket, you know he is freezing. The smoke billows from his lips, whooshing away quickly as the wind whips it into the air. His lips. His perfectly pink, heart shaped lips that were all over your body last night. Kissing and biting and… No. Stop it. You try to compose yourself, gripping the items in your hands as you head toward the door, prepared to say as little as possible to him, and walk straight inside.

That of course, did not happen.

“Have any trouble finding it?” he asks, turning to meet your eyes as he rolls his smoke out between his fingers, dropping the burnt tobacco into the grass.

“Oh, um, no no, all good,” you answer nervously. Which was also a lie, you were kinda sweating finding the Topos for a second.

Your eyes catch on his jacket, your mind swirling with the memory of his cologne that lingers in its fibers. You feel a tinge of happiness in your chest at the fact he is talking to you, though, why wouldn’t he be? You didn’t do anything wrong. You watch his lips twitch a little, and you can tell that he seems almost nervous to talk to you.

“When are you ever gonna ask me for the things you want?” you ask playfully, trying to ease his anxiety. It never happened, remember?

He turns his body completely, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at you, “Well, the last time I texted you, you left me on read. So I figure I will just get my own things, now.”

Fuck, okay that plan backfired.

You bite your lips together and look down to the ground, unsure of what to even say to that. He drops his hands to his sides as he looks at you, and you feel your body temperature start to rise under his gaze. The wind blows his hair across his face, in turn sending the smell of his cologne barrelling past you. You feel bad for him, of course…if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t even be speaking to him right now, let alone be acting even the littlest bit flirty. You shiver a little, from the cold or the smell of his cologne, you aren’t sure.

“I need to get this inside,” you stammer, at a complete loss on how to respond to that.

He nods his head and grabs the door handle, pulling it open and gesturing for you to go, but thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

Fuck. Okay. Okay. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

You rush back into the green room, finding Sam and Danny playing around with a mini golf toy.

“Here you go Sam! Sorry! Had to go to two places to find the kind you like,” you smile, ripping the box open.

“My hero!” he shouts, rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

You smile as he sets you down, tossing a can to Daniel, and then cracking the lid on his own. The two of them saunter back through the greenroom doors, leaving you alone to throw the rest of them into the cooler.

You pull your phone from your bag, bringing up your text thread with Jake and staring at his last message. Maybe Ruth was right, you should respond. Now especially after that, after knowing he was still beating himself up over it. You type, delete and retype your message several times before finally landing on what felt right, and even more, you really mean it.

You

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

JAKE POV

As you continue to stand outside the venue and let the wind cut you in two, you wonder if your plan to play it smooth actually worked. She didn’t fully ignore you, she didn’t cuss you out, she didn’t laugh in your face… but she did speak. Only a few words, but you’ll take what you can get. It was hard to even say those few words to her, the instant courage you had to muster to speak to her after seeing her so unexpectedly almost threw you for a loop, but somehow, your words came out smoothly, concisely, and without sounding like you were a complete buffoon.

You relax a little as you know she is inside doing her duties, and you busy yourself pacing around the back exit to keep warm. The pre-show nerves start coming about this time of day, and sometimes it feels good to step out into the blistering cold for that extra shot of adrenaline to get your blood pumping. You jump up and down, shoving your hands in your pockets as you wait just a few more minutes… wanting to avoid having to make any more awkward conversation with her than you already had.

As your hand hits your pocket, though, you feel your phone buzz. You pull it out, seeing a notification that she has finally texted you back.

Y/N

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

You read the text no less than fifteen times, smiling from ear to ear before anxiety sets in, making you think that maybe she is just being nice. But you do have something to apologize for. You were the reason for a completely failed night, a shitty end to the perfect “date”, left her pissed and unsatisfied, the absolute worst. All you’ve been able to think about all day long is how you are going to explain everything, and make it up to her. You know you can’t until after the show, but just the little bit of contact from her makes you feel like you could move mountains. Progress is progress.

You’re pacing the hallways going back and forth between backstage and the green room, keeping yourself busy before you head to jam a little with the guys.

“Hey, man. You good?” Sam asks as you’re brushing past him in a doorway. His tone is more inquisitive than normal, and the volume of his voice is the one he uses when he’s unsure, or in this case, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good. I mean… I wasn’t, really, but I am now,” you answer, pushing your sunglasses back up on your head. You watch his eyebrows furrow at your answer, wondering if you caught onto his loaded question.

“I heard about your amp, what happened?” he asks.

“I’m not sure, something with the wiring. Had a gash in the cabinet but the harness was all damaged to shit. They’re getting a rental, though… should be here soon,” you glance at your watch to double check the time, praying that you will have enough time to check it before tonight.

“Mmm, maybe not…” Sam stops in his tracks, and turns the opposite way to go back out to the stage. “Let me take a look at it.”

You’re surprised by him, but follow his quick steps anyway. You’re close behind him as you navigate the narrow halls, passing crew and staff left and right. And of course, one of them just happens to be Y/N. Her eyes widen as she sees the two of you.

“HEY!” Sam yells at her, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Daniel told me to tell you thank you for the soda water and that he appreciates it,” Sam cheeses a giant smile at her as she cups her hand over his, still squeezing her shoulder.

“No problem at all, Sam,” she giggles. “Man, you guys are really nice, no one has ever thanked me for getting them things this much,” she narrows her eyes at you, pursing her lips into the smallest smile. Mental note, thank her extra for whatever she decides to bring you to drink tonight…

“Well I mean we’re all assholes but we at least have manners,” he replies, starting to head toward the stage again. You part ways, but just her eyes meeting yours again was enough to make your heart flutter.

Sam skips every other step as he climbs the metal stairs to the stage, making his way over to your damaged amp that has been set to the side. “Alright, let’s see…” he squats down and pulls the back off, and starts to fidget with the wiring inside. “Oh, shit, yeah. I see now…” He pulls up the flashlight on his phone as you watch him think. Suddenly he stands and runs over to your cabinet, grabbing two handfuls of tools before making his way back and dropping them by your side. He then hops over to his own setup and pulls the back off of one of his own amps, pulling a few things from it, too. What the fuck is he doing?

He returns a minute later with some of the guts of his own amp, and pieces of it that you are sure you’ve never even seen before. He kneels back down and grabs a screwdriver, going back to work.

“So, you say you’re good now, but you weren’t, right?” he asks. “You’ve been acting kinda backward lately.”

“No I haven’t,” you kick back.

His eyes quickly scan to yours as his hands work at a quick pace. “Yeah, you have. I’m not stupid.”

You sigh, knowing that he isn’t gonna give it up. “I’ve just… got some other shit going on right now, I’ll–I’ll explain it all later once I get it dealt with,” you lie. The half-assed explanation will have to do for now, there is no way you are going into detail about all the good and bad happening in your life, especially since Lyla may be giving Sam a completely different story than the one you would give him.

You watch as he effortlessly completely replaces the wire housing, splicing the old wire at the perfect spot before tightening it back into place again. “There, that should do it…”

“Does your amp not need that stuff?” you ask, leaning your hands on your knees as you watch him.

“Eh, yeah, but I think this will be okay,” he says. “Alright, fire it up!” he yells at the techs, and you take that as your cue to grab your guitar to test it out. You plug the wire in and wait for Sam to get the thumbs-up from the booth. You play a single chord, hearing it ring across the arena with near-perfection.

“Holy shit Sam, how did you do that?!” your jaw is hanging slack as you make your way back over to him. “The techs couldn’t even figure it out…”

He wipes his hands against each other and stands with his hands on his hips like a proud father. “Eh, been watching Mark for a long time, now. Youtube deep-dives, ya know. Picked up on a few things.”

“Shit, I’m impressed,” you laugh. And you really, really were.

“Yeah, ya know, sometimes finding the root of the problem is the first step in making things work out how you want them to, know what I mean?” He bumps your side with his elbow. Yep. His first question was definitely loaded.

You nod slowly. “Yeah… thanks…”

“No problem.” He walks a little closer to you, barely twisting a peg on the headstock of your guitar. “There, now you’re tuned, too.”

You glance at the stock, seeing that he was right, the little fucker. You watch as he skips down the stairs again, throwing one finger in the air above him, screaming, “Cancel the rental!”

—

You and Sam decide to wander around the empty venue for a while, checking out the view from the top row of seats, enjoying a shared blunt as time ticks by. You don’t get to spend much time with just Sam, but every now and then you find a moment like this. You’re close with Sam, in a different way than you are with Josh. He understands things differently than Josh, and for a moment as the smoke swirls through your veins you consider asking him for advice about Isla.

You know it's a dangerous game, but without the influence of Lyla you think he would answer truthfully. Passing the blunt back to him you start to speak, but are quickly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing a name on the screen that you’d been waiting for for a few days.

“Hey, let me take this, I’ll meet you back in the green room?” you ask, hoping he will catch the drift.

His face twists up in confusion, “Huh? You never answer your phone.”

“It’s Chris. I’ve been waiting on this call. Let me grab it,” you say, flashing the screen towards him.

“Oh, oh. About your new band with your new friends that aren’t me and Josh and Daniel. That's fine, yeah yeah take the call,” he says playfully.

“Old friends Sam, and don’t be like that…” you chide.

“No, it’s totally fine, cheater, answer before he hangs up,” he smiles, elbowing you as he stands up. You tap the green icon as he starts to walk away, clearing your throat and stifling back a smile.

“Chris…” you answer.

“Jake…” he answers, a happy lilt in his tone.

“I’m guessing this means we’re doing it?”

You hear him laugh on the other end of the phone, “Oh yeah, we’re doing it.”

—

“Jake, you good?” Danny asks, standing up from his practice kit.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m feelin’ really good actually,” you answer truthfully. You stand, placing your guitar into the stand and shaking out your hands as Josh steps up towards you.

“Drink?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Followin’ you…”

You do follow him back to the greenroom, needing a drink to get your blood moving and to shake those pre show jitters. As you step over the threshold you spot Y/N sitting on a couch talking to Lyla, Ty, and Mia. You wonder for a second if she has mentioned anything about what happened last night, but from the happy look on their faces you know it’s likely they know nothing about the two of you or what transpired last night.

You walk over to the drink table, Josh already getting started on making a drink for the two of you. You laugh at his heavy handed pour, but accept it graciously. You can hear the rumble of the crowd, the opener finishing up their set this very minute. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, catching her looking at you for just a second before looking away. The feeling of her eyes on you has your chest warming up, no alcohol needed.

In all reality you were ready for this show to be over. You knew that as soon as you got the chance you were going to whisk her away to talk about last night, explain things, and hope she understood. You just had to get through this show.

You grab the drink from Josh and make your way over to the empty couch across the room, sitting at the very end and crossing your leg over your knee. You know you’ve got about thirty minutes until you need to walk, and you still need to change, but a quick drink would do you some good so you enjoy the few moments listening to Josh ramble.

Just as you start to relax you notice Y/N standing from her place on the couch and walking over towards the corner of the room. You try not to stare, knowing Mia and Lyla’s eyes are on you but you have an idea of what she may be doing, so you sit back and watch to find out.

You hear her walkie talkie chattering from across the room, the time until stage is growing smaller and smaller. As she stands back up she turns around and looks at you, letting her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds before she walks out of the room with your bottle of wine in hand. You stifle back the smile on your lips as you think about her going through your bag again. It’s strange, you’d never allowed any of the other runners to do that, but she was different. You found yourself excited at the idea of her touching your things, finding your wine and readying your drink for the stage.

You turn back to Josh who has his eyes locked on you with a knowing grin. He clears his throat and makes sure that no one is listening before he speaks, “Are you two good, then?”

You nod your head inconspicuously, sipping at the drink in your hand. “Seems that way.”

He pats his hand on your thigh harshly, “Good, go get changed. We’ve got a show to play.”

Just then, Paul ducks his head through the door looking frazzled as usual, “Boys, twenty minutes.”

Josh tilts his head to you, and you stand up heading for the dressing rooms. You quickly change into your suit and slip into your boots, ready to swipe on some eyeliner before you hit the stage. You hear your phone buzz on the countertop, and it zaps all of your attention. You are practically stumbling over your own feet to get to it, hoping to see something from Y/N, and much to your delight, it is.

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh fuck, a song.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you want to open it immediately but you know you have to get this eyeliner on first. You grab the pencil and pull your lid down, swiping on the dark black liner, smudging it out with your finger the best you can before repeating it on the other side. All you can think about is what song she added. Will it be happy? Will it be sad? Is she telling you she doesn’t want to do this anymore? That you fucked up?

You cap the liner and toss it into your bag, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your suit jacket in the mirror. You look good, you look really good, and you know that a spray of cologne probably wouldn’t hurt. You snatch your phone off the counter and make your way back into the greenroom, finding everyone else dressed and ready to walk.

You make your way to your backpack, crouching down in front of it searching for the small glass bottle of cologne you know is floating around at the bottom. You pull it from the bag and give yourself a generous spray. It calms you, in a way, breathing in the familiar scent. It centers you and reminds you of home.

Unable to wait a single second longer, you tap the notification on your screen bringing up the shared playlist, scrolling to the very bottom. Your heart leaps in your chest when you see her addition, and you know that you are about to play a good show because of it.

You tap the song, letting the sweet and sentimental notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ by Frankie Valli ring through the air. You turn the volume up probably a little louder than it should be, but you don’t care. It’s not long before Josh notices, peering over at you from the rim of his paper cup.

“Jake, is that Frankie Valli? Holy shit, wait, do you like good music now?” he teases, throwing you a wink.

The chorus echoes through the room, Sam and Lyla obviously enjoying the song as he dances her around the room. He pops a few grapes into his mouth as they spin and you can’t help but to notice that this song alone has brightened everyone's spirits in a matter of seconds. She definitely had that effect on you, but now her magic was being cast on others. You almost wanted to thank her, and you would, tonight. With extra thanks…

You quickly pull up your texts with her, deciding to let her know you saw it without saying too much.

You

8:31PM: 😎

You know it’s risky but you don’t care. You also know the chances of her replying to that are slim, because in all honesty what do you even say to that? But she continues to surprise you, your phone buzzing in your hand before you can even put it back in your bag.

Y/N

8:32PM: 🎸

You can’t seem to shake the smile from your face and you’re glad you are still crouched down in front of your bag, because you know everyone would have a million questions the second they saw your shit-eating grin.

“Let’s go guys, time to walk!” Paul shouts, pulling your attention away from the little guitar emoji. You toss your phone in your bag and straighten out your suit, trying to get your mind back into the zone to play this show. Get through this, then you can talk to her.

Your heart is beating fast though, knowing that at the end of this hallway she is waiting for you. You know you have to play it cool, you don’t want to seem too eager. You clear your throat and fall to the back of the group, saving yourself for last.

You’re fine Jake. Just act natural, be cool.

—

HER POV

The tequila cocktail… the Topo… the spiked hot tea… and…

The shadowed figure is bringing up the rear like the tail end of a parade of sequins and sparkling material, dressed in black satin and glittering in the dim lights, hair flowing back from his shoulders as his right hand falls to his stomach as he walks. His face is contoured by the flashing lights of the stage, showcasing the smudged black eyeliner carefully but heavily painted over the eyes that were boring into you, now.

You feel your hand begin to shake on its own accord, trying not to spill the chalice of white wine that it was, in all honesty, about to drop to the floor below you. You swallow harshly as he makes his way toward you at almost slow-motion speed, his eyes dark and hollow as his presence approaches. Your hand shakily extends the cup, glancing up to him again as he bites his cheeks in, suppressing a smile that reads more like a judgment on behalf of your probably flustered state. Why are you reacting this way? This man literally gave you one of the most awkward exchanges of your night last night…

His fingertips are nearly on fire as they barely graze yours, taking the cup with a quickness.

“Good luck,” you mutter, probably barely audible over the opening orchestral.

He flips his hair out from underneath the strap of his guitar with his free hand, side-eyeing you as he walks toward the stairs to the stage. “Mmm, don’t need it, babe.” As if the pure adrenaline wasn’t already enough to knock you over, his bold act of cocky audacity steals all the breath directly from your lungs, leaving you standing with your mouth agape and your hands dropped at your sides. God damn, why is he like this?

“I don’t know… I’ve seen you with stage fright before…” you retort, suddenly feeling bold enough to joke about what happened the night prior.

“Ohhhh, is that how it’s gonna be?!” he laughs, bumping into your shoulder. “Hope you know that’s not normally how those kinds of nights go for me…” he yells back over the deafening music, avoiding eye contact with you as he takes the first sip from his wine.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, it’s not, is it?”

He shakes his head a little as he begins to ascend the metal stairs. “No. Most definitely not.” Your heart is pounding out of your ribcage as his words ring through your brain, replaying the utter humiliation of last night, followed by his overwhelming acts of confidence in the past minute. “Thank you, though, seriously. For taking care of us.” He leans over the handrail of the steps, leaning down to speak closely in your ear. “But for taking care of me, especially. I plan on returning the favor, don’t worry…”

He stands back up and glides onto the stage, holding his wine up into the air as if to salute your efforts. Your mouth goes dry as you find yourself in a puddle of excited emotions. You can feel your mouth hanging open still from his words, your lips unable to close simply from hearing him say he wants to try again. It's all a conundrum, and now you’re full-on staring at him as he crosses the stage to stand with his brothers, fluffing his hair a little as he pulls a pick from the inside of his jacket, biting it between his front teeth. He turns back to you and winks, placing his own hand under his jaw, signaling for you to pick yours up off of the floor.

—--

Minutes later you’re still standing at the base of the stairs, watching as they begin their night of revelry. Jake’s amp sounds perfect again, and you can tell that his worry of finding a replacement and anxiety of it not making it on time was all for nothing. He treats the stage like it’s his second life, a place where he can release his true inner self, or, maybe, an alternate version of the man that he is. You’re not sure yet, but you have a deep feeling that you will be experiencing it, soon. The thought of that makes your insides feel like they’re blazing with hormones, watching his performance pick up and slow down with each passing second. Yeah, you know for a fact last night was a fluke. Had to be. There’s no way he can’t really actually…nevermind.

You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping that you have enough service to facetime Ruth. You don’t even bother doing the math to see if you’ll be waking her up or not, but you also know that she absolutely won’t care, if this is what she gets to wake up to. You press the green button, watching as it connects with only a little bit of blurriness from the reception.

You plaster a smile on your face as you watch her answer, realizing exactly where you are, and what you’re in the middle of doing. You can’t hear each other, but you turn the screen around, giving her a full view of the show happening from side stage. You watch her face light up, and an ‘OH MY GOD’ form on her lips. You take the time to zoom in on each member, of course, saving Jake for last. He’s the closest to you, so you don’t have to use much zoom at all for her to really see him. ‘That’s him! That’s him, isn’t it?!’ you watch her mouth. Her hand snaps up to cover the lower half of her face as you watch her squirm with excitement. ‘Last night wasn’t real, you gotta let him try again!!!’ you read her lips, and you turn the screen back to yourself.

You roll your eyes, mouthing back an enunciated, ‘I know!’

You let her watch for a few more minutes before the crappy reception disconnects you altogether, and she shoots you a quick text filled with nothing but a long string of random letters, letting you know she was fully freaking out.

Right before the end of the show, you rush back to the green room to clean up the mess of whatever is left behind, replenishing and rearranging everything that needs it. You know the crew will be coming in to collect snacks and waters before their job begins tonight, and you’ve learned to put out almost every single food item that you can, knowing that none of it will go to waste.

As you hear the encore coming to a close, you grab the four black towels waiting for you in your bag, rushing back out to side stage to hand them off to the guys. You find Paul waiting too, ready to give them encouraging back-pats of congratulations. Just like they entered, they exit the same, Jake bringing up the back as if he planned it. You’d been kind enough to hand Sam, Josh, and Danny theirs with sweet words of compliments and praise, but switched it up at the very end, tossing Jake’s towel into the air above him, forcing him to reach high and catch it in mid-air.

The sweat is pouring from his every pore, pooling on his upper lip and center of his stomach. Your mind goes to a dark place for a second, wishing you knew exactly what it would taste like if you were the one to lick it from his lips. He quickly pulls the towel across his face and stomach, finishing off by wiping the back of his neck with it. He then tosses it back in your face, and you catch the smallest breath of his scent filling your nostrils. “You can keep that, all yours,” he jokes as you pull it off your face, responding to him with a look of annoyance.

“You asshole,” you laugh, tucking the towel under your arm as you follow them all backstage. He turns around, yanking the towel back out from your grasp. You watch as he takes two ends and twists them up, wrapping the damp towel in a tight coil. Oh god, he’s not gonna…

You stop, lifting your leg and outstretching your arms in defense of your body. You just know he is about to snap it at you. “Jake, no, please don’t!” you squeal, backing away.

“Don’t worry, ‘m not gonna get you, unless you’re into that kinda thing…”

Son of a bitch, he said that fairly loudly, as you’re surrounded by his brothers, their girlfriends, the crew, your co-workers… fuck.

Your eyes widen as big as they will go as he laughs, continuing to make his way down the hall. You pick up steps again, following him in a flustered mess of confusion. “I’m gonna get Daniel, watch…”

You burst into the greenroom right behind him, the towel still tightly wound and held in his right hand. He makes his way straight for Danny, twirling the towel in the air as he approaches him.

“No, Jake! No!” Danny yells, running away and launching himself onto the couch, but not before you hear a perfectly loud snap of the towel connecting with Danny’s thigh. Danny yelps out in stinging pain as everyone else laughs, Jake taking his time to roll the towel up into his makeshift whip again. “What the fuck?!” Danny yells, trying his best to hide behind Mia. Everyone is running away from him at this point, worried they will be the next victim.

Jake makes contact with Danny’s leg again as he squeals. “That’s for not cueing me into Farewell like we practiced, you asshole!” Jake yells at Danny with a giant smile across his face.

“Leave me alone!” Danny laughs, laying all his weight onto Mia. “I forgot, okay? Fuck!” You can’t help but join in the laughter of everyone filling up the green room, watching their playful display. You feel a sudden strong warmth fill your chest, realizing you get to be a part of this, seeing it all firsthand.

Jake stops, folding the towel back into a nice neat square as he makes his way back to where you stand, handing the towel to you with both hands. “Anyway, told you you could keep this,” he reiterates as you take it from his hands, giving him another glare of petty aggravation.

“Wonderful show guys, as always!” Paul claps his hands together. “This venue has an early curfew, so get your showers and shit together, no lollygagging around, alright?” he barks, popping a pretzel into his mouth before dashing back out the door.

Sam’s the first one out the door to the showers, pulling Lyla behind him. “You guys make the afterparty plans, we’ll do whatever, we don’t care…” he yells over his shoulder as the door slams behind Lyla.

“It’s balls cold out, I know Ty’s not gonna want to go walking around in this shit. And to be honest, I don’t really want to either,” Josh says, taking a seat on the couch beside Ty. “Am I right?” he asks him.

“Yeah, fuck this cold,” Ty responds.

You try not to listen in on their conversations as you know they don’t apply to you, but you most definitely are curious to see if Jake decides to partake in their plans. You busy yourself with a giant box of various crackers to fill the time.

“Let’s just go to the hotel bar. I noticed it’s kinda secluded, not very big,” Josh suggests, earning a nod of agreement from Danny and Jake.

“Sounds good to me, make sure Dean knows,” Jake says as he pulls his drenched jacket off, hanging it on a wire hanger. Shit shit shit don’t look don’t look.

“Sounds like a plan. Hey, Y/N, you gonna join us?” Josh’s voice saying your name pulls you from your daydream of thinking about watching Jake take his jacket off again and again, causing you to perk up.

“What? Sorry…”

He laughs. “When you’re done here tonight, meet us at the hotel bar, yeah?” You watch Jake’s head snap your way out of your peripheral.

“Yeah, Y/N, join us…” Mia adds, the smallest bit of songlike quality to her voice again, just like earlier.

You push the flyaway hairs away from your face, blowing a puff of air on them as you tuck the cardboard box of crackers back into the plastic tote. “Uh, yeah, sure. If I can get everything cleaned up in time, I’ll be there…” you answer on the fly, feeling as though you can’t turn the offer down.

Jake stays silent as he picks up his backpack and heads out the door toward the showers, flashing his devious eyes at you before the door shuts behind him.

—

JAKE POV

You only had to dodge the curious eyes of a few fans as you slipped around the corners of the hotel to the bar, being the last one to arrive, like always. Josh is seated at the bar with his back to you while Danny and Sam are standing at a table off to the side with Mia and Lyla. Thankfully, the bar is empty for the most part, only a couple unsuspecting older folks closing out their tabs. You pull out the heavy mahogany chair to the right of Josh, taking a seat as the bartender approaches you.

“Hi, uh. Soda water with lime, please?” you ask, and he nods and flits away. “Where’s Ty?” you ask.

“On his way down in a few minutes. He um, he’s actually walking Y/N down…” he responds, flicking his eyes behind the two of you.

“Oh,” you respond, surprised. “Is that right?” You fold your arms across the bar top as the bartender sets your drink in front of you.

“Yeah, he actually stuck behind a little to help her clean up the green room and get everything put away,” Josh explains further.

You smile as you place your hand on his back. “You’ve got yourself a gentleman, brother. Must say.” Josh grins at your sentiment, pulling his straw between his lips.

“Most kind hearted person I know,” he says. “Speaking of, seems like you and her are on a little better terms now, since we spoke last,” Josh looks behind you again, making sure you are out of earshot from the other guys.

You huff through a breath, not sure whether or not you want to go into much detail of reliving one of the most humiliating nights of your life, thus far. But, maybe talking about it will put it in the past where it belongs. “Yeah, you could say that, I suppose. Had to fuckin’ work for it though…” you laugh through your nose.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

You swallow down a rather large drink of your soda water, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate an answer. “Let’s just say we… had a less than eventful night last night, and I… wasn’t able to…” you take a fast breath. “Too many beers, too many phone calls from my tech, too much bullshit from Isla, I just…” you clench your jaw, trying to say it all without really saying it.

But Josh nearly chokes on his drink. “Ex-fucking-scuse me? Wait, no no no…” he waves his hand in your face as he turns in his seat, running his fingers over his beard. “You seriously couldn’t…”

“That’s right Josh.” You stare straight ahead of you at the mirror behind the top shelf of liquors, finding your defeated reflection staring back at you. You glance at him in the mirror, watching him cover his face with both hands as he silent-laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he cries after a few seconds of laughing at your expense. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s humiliating, and a little sad, actually,” you say flatly. “Go ahead, laugh away, get it out of your system.”

He slaps his palms across the bar top a few times as he catches his breath, trying not to laugh so loud that he causes a scene. “Fuck. Has that ever happened to you? What was…?”

“No, god dammit. It’s never happened. I was sloshed, my phone was ringing incessantly, between Isla’s name popping up on my phone and knowing the crew needed me, I just… she was perfect, man. Beautiful, confident, everything was there, except…”

“...Except… you,” he finishes your sentence.

“Yeah,” you respond with a breath. “It worked out for a few minutes, surprisingly, and fuck if it wasn’t…” you held up the A-OK sign with your fingers, popping a ‘p’ sound. “But then everything went to shit.”

“And that’s why you’re having soda water tonight?”

“Eh, yeah. Just feel like if we’re gonna have a chance to have a conversation about it all, I want to be completely present,” you admit. Suddenly you feel the presence of Danny standing behind the two of you, ordering another round for Sam and the girls. You turn your attention to him. “Speaking of… hey asshole, why the fuck are you still buying Durex condoms? You’re a grown man with money, for god’s sake, use the good shit,” you ask Danny quietly. “You’re not 15 anymore.”

For your sake, so far Danny has done a good job of keeping your secret for you after you went running to his room last night in search of protection, just in case.

“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about?” Danny asks with wide eyes, looking between you and Josh.

“Don’t worry Daniel, I’m already informed. The youngest of us is not, though, so keep your fuckin’ mouth shut to him, you hear?” Josh defends you.

“Jesus Christ, Jake. Listen, I don’t want to know what the fuck is going on with you and whoever, I’m not asking any questions,” Danny says as the bartender hands him their beers. He leans in closer, whispering between you and Josh. “But I haven’t used a fucking condom in almost a year. You had me digging in my reserve stash… it’s all I had, ok? Sorry if an XL wasn’t the size you needed…” Danny backs away, laughing with his tongue out.

“OH fuck you!” you howl back. “It was a piece of shit, just do yourself a favor and get the good kind, ok?” you whip your head back around as Danny rejoins the others.

“Anyway…” you say as you finish off your soda water. “It was a night I want to forget, honestly. But I’m gonna redeem myself. I have to. I can’t leave it like that…”

“Maybe you should turn your phone off the next time you get an opportunity, just in case…” Josh suggests, and you nod in return.

Just then you see a pair of arms wrapping around Josh’s neck, and you turn to see Ty and Y/N walking up behind you.

“Hey, guys!” Josh says. “Please join us…” he pulls out the seat next to him for Ty and stands to give Y/N his own seat, before she puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Thanks, Josh, but Paul, Wes and Corri are coming down, too. Dean’s coming, I’m gonna sit with them for a little while. Thank you for walking me down, Ty,” she flashes the three of you a warm smile, and you want to speak to her, but it's almost as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. She looks absolutely stunning, a little fixed up, but not too much. You can tell she looks as tired as you all do from the show, but you’d hardly know it. She has on a tight low-cut t-shirt dress with an oversized denim jacket over top, her hair a mess after being up all day. Her makeup had been re-done, and you’d be lying if you said the way her legs looked in that dress didn’t have you imagining things that were still a blurry memory from last night.

“I’ll be back later…” she says, making eye contact with you. Again, you’re at a loss for words, so you give her a sweet nod.

“I really like her,” Ty speaks up, filling the silence that has fallen over the three of you as soon as she’s gone. “You should dump Isla and go out with her, Jake.” The straw you had been chewing falls from your mouth and straight onto the floor.

“What? What did you say?” you ask him.

He shrugs one shoulder as he takes the seat next to Josh. “She’s cute. No bullshit, smart, and can obviously handle all the shit you guys have been throwing at her since she got here…”

You look to Josh, who seems just as surprised as you are.

“I dunno. I mean I like Isla, don’t get me wrong, but. There’s just something off about her, and I don’t know what it is,” he continues, and you feel Josh’s widening eyes find you, telling you he has no idea where this is coming from, either. Ty reaches his hand across Josh to sit on top of yours. He looks you directly in the eye before speaking again, “Jake, I have an excellent read on people. And I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?” he asks.

You slowly shake your head back and forth.

“That’s right. No. And I’m here to tell you, that girl likes you. A lot. She didn’t even have to say anything to me, and I can tell. She froze up when I mentioned your name earlier. And from all the time you spent on our couch the past couple of months, I know there’s something going on. Just know I’m here to talk about it if you feel like my partner here isn’t hearing you out, okay?”

You swallow hard as you take in Ty's words. He’s right, he's always been an excellent confidant for you, even letting you come to him a couple of times in the past for advice on different subjects. You love Ty just like you love your twin, and you never once have doubted his judge of character.

Josh nods slowly, agreeing with every harsh word Ty has just delivered to you. Ty pats your hand as he releases it.

“Take my advice, Jacob. I know Isla isn’t making you happy, and that girl…she just left your talkative ass completely unable to speak.” He smiles hard, turning his attention to the bartender, ordering a round of shots for everyone. You finally have a free second with Josh again.

“Guy knows what he’s talking about…” Josh suggests. “Maybe you should listen to him.”

You bite at your cheek as you nod your head. You know he’s right, of course he’s right. But you also know it’s just a little bit more complicated than that. The bartender slides you a fresh soda water, and as you pinch the lime between your fingers you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You drop the lime into the bubble water and take a quick drink as you pull your phone from your coat pocket.

Y/N

11:46PM: Not drinking tonight?

You look over your shoulder knowing she is watching you, and you catch sight of her sitting at a cocktail table a couple of feet away with Wes and Corrine. Her eyes are locked on yours, a skinny straw between her teeth. You send her a playful smirk as you turn back to your phone, replying to her message.

You

11:47PM: Not tonight, I have other plans…

You look at her as you pocket your phone, watching her face twist into a mischievous smile as she turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and grin before turning back to continue listening to Josh and Ty. You can feel her eyes on you and you have to admit it feels good. You feel like things might actually be okay between the two of you if you can continue to play your cards right.

“So do you wanna hit up that one place with the crazy wine list when we get to France? It was in Paris Metro, right?” Josh asks, tapping your arm with his hand.

You know the exact place he is talking about, but right now your mind is somewhere else completely. “Oh, yeah yeah, it is. It was close to that tiny ass venue, remind me and I’ll look it up tomorrow on the flight.”

“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we have a day or two off while we’re there,” he asks, still trying to grab your full attention.

“Um, maybe I’ll stop in to that rarity shop, see if they have anything interesting this time around,” you answer, doing your best to focus.

“Oh shit, yeah, that’s where you got that crazy old guitar, right? From like the early 1900’s or whatever?”

“Yeah, exactly. Had to completely unstring the fucker to get it home without it snapping in two,” you laugh, remembering the hassle.

“Any…other plans while in the city of love?” he croons, bumping shoulders with Ty.

You look over your shoulder to check your surroundings before answering. You place your hand roughly on his shoulder and shake him a bit, “I guess that will depend on tonight, now won’t it?”

The two of you laugh as you notice commotion at the end of the bar. You turn yourself to look, only to find Lyla walking towards you with her phone to her ear.

“Jake?” she says, stepping up to you in a huff. She pulls the phone away from her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s Isla, she said you aren’t answering your phone, and I know I just saw you on it?”

Fucking hell Isla.

You know you have to take the call, because if you do it now, there’s no chance of it happening later. You snatch the phone from her hand, holding it to your ear and exhaling an aggravated breath. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up? I don’t know, Jake. You tell me what’s up! You aren’t answering any of my texts, you turned off your location days ago, you said you’d call me and you haven’t! Tell me what is going on!” she shouts into the phone.

“Nothing is going on, Isla! I am at work, working, on tour. You know the thing that pays the bills? Also, I’m in a different country, a different time zone. But you know what, I know you aren’t stupid. You know all of this, so what’s up? What is so important that you had to call someone else to get ahold of me?”

You see Josh push past Lyla, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Hey I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing you backwards. You pull the phone away from your ear to hear him. He stares into your eyes, silently telling you to go with it.

“Oh, I have to go Isla, sorry. Here’s Lyla,” you say, pushing the phone back into Lyla’s hands.

Lyla is staring you down as Josh finally stops, letting go of your shoulders. “I uh, I need you to go run an errand for me. Well, I need Y/N to go run an errand for me, but I need Dean to stay here to field those girls in the lobby, so I was wondering if you could accompany her?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“What?” you ask, admittedly very confused.

“Yeah, just walk with me,” he says, walking you over towards the tables. “I need you to go run this errand—” he pauses, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear him. “Okay, yeah there is no errand.”

You send him yet another completely bewildered look.

“There’s no errand, just…I don’t know, get out of here before someone asks questions. Go. Take her with you. She already knows and she thinks there is an errand,” he smiles smugly, “You can thank me later.”

For a moment you hesitate, unsure if you should go with his harebrained idea, but you decide to do it, knowing that he really only has your best interest at heart. He pretends to show you something on his phone, and you nod like you understand. You exhale a breath and nod towards him, “Yep, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“Yeah, perfect. Make sure you do a good job,” he quips, the meaning definitely not lost on you.

You toss your hand towards him as you walk away, locking eyes with Y/N who is waiting near the door. You swallow down your nerves and make your way towards her, ready to make amends.

“You uh, ready to go?” you ask, playing along with the charade. You pull the door open and allow her to step out first into the dimly lit hallway of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I just… Did he tell you what he needed or anything?” she asks, a confused look on her face. You laugh to yourself and purse your lips before answering.

“Well, he doesn’t need anything. He kinda… bent the truth a bit to give us a chance to leave alone,” you answer honestly.

A hum leaves her lips, as she stops in place turning to face you, “And how do you know that I want to leave with you?”

There's a playful grin on her face, but there's also a tinge of truth to her tone. You can’t read her, but you give it your best shot.

“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about it, but please enlighten me if I am mistaken,” you answer.

She rocks back onto the heels of her shoes, turning to continue walking, “I see, are these those ‘other plans’ you were talking about?”

You bite your lips together and turn to look at her, “That remains to be seen, I suppose.”

The two of you start to approach the elevator bank, and you know you need to make your move. She hasn’t said much, or really given you any indication of whether she is into this playful little game or not, so you decide to cut your losses and leave the ball in her court.

“I’m gonna go up to my room for the night. You can come up and join me for a night cap, or you can head back to your own room. Completely your choice, but if you decide to join me, I’m in room 507,” you finish, stopping just shy of the elevators. You give her a smile and nod your head before continuing to walk to the waiting elevator.

Your heart is racing as you step inside, wondering if she is going to follow you, or better yet take you up on your offer. You press the button for floor five and watch as the doors close, a rush of nerves spreading through your body. You shake out your hands and pull your phone from your pocket seeing a myriad of missed calls and texts from Isla. You muted her notifications after everything last night, and you know that’s what prompted her call to Lyla.

You tap your keycard to the door and step inside, the cool air of the AC hitting you like a brick wall. You step over and turn on the heat, needing the room to be at least a few degrees warmer. You take all of your things out of your pockets and deposit them on the nightstand, deciding to take Josh’s advice and power off your phone completely. You toss your jacket onto the small couch, removing the hair tie from your finger and tying your hair up into a knot. You reach for a bottle of water from the mini bar, downing what had to be half of it as you start to pace the room.

You wonder if maybe she’s texted, or added a song, anything to give you some kind of indication of her answer, but you know that your phone is off and that you’re just going to have to wait this out the old fashioned way. You kick off your boots and push them to the side of your suitcase, digging around inside of it to change clothes, but deciding to wait just a little bit longer, just in case. You unbutton your shirt though, letting it hang open on your body as you step away from your suitcase.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the flashing clock on the nightstand and watching as the numbers flash as they change. Fuck, maybe she really isn’t coming.

You lay back, completely spread across the fluffy white sheets letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The past two days have drained you. Mentally, physically… You felt like you could sleep for three days straight given the opportunity. You let your eyes flutter closed for just a second, and that's when you heard it. The tiniest knock on the door. Any softer and you wouldn’t have heard it, chalking it up to your brain playing tricks on you.

You sat up instantly, listening for it again, and sure enough another set of small knocks echoed through the room.

Holy shit, she came.

You shoot up from the bed, smoothing out your hair and shaking out your arms. You were nervous, you’d admit that, but you were also bound and determined to make tonight better than the last. You’d thought of nothing else, since.

—

HER POV

The sound of a little bit of rustling inside the door causes your heart to pick up speed, the sudden clarity of what you’re doing hitting you across the face. Sure, last night you’d been in a similar circumstance, but tonight…things feel different. Your second set of knocks on his door has finally jostled him.

You hear the door knob turn and Jake opens it, hiding a little bit behind it as he invites you inside.

“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy. “Didn’t think you were gonna come up.”

You walk inside the room, smelling the remnants of the cologne he spritzed on before he came down to the bar still lingering in the air. “I almost didn’t, but, I think…we need to talk about a few things…” you reply, awkwardly holding your hands together at your stomach as he closes the door behind you. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you finally catch sight of him, his black button-down undone all the way, and his hair tied back in a low knot at his neck. Jesus Christ, he’s a sight, even when he isn’t even trying.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agrees, patting the half-made bed for you to sit on. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning to the mini fridge.

“Ah, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you reply, finally setting your purse down on the bed beside you. Things feel a bit different now as you’re both sober and serious, about to discuss something so inherently embarrassing it was almost too painful to even think about. But it has to be done, suck it up, and get it over with so that you can get on with the night…right?

“Yeah, me neither,” he agrees. You watch as he pulls a pair of sweatpants from his bag. “Care if I go change real quick?” he asks, erring on the side of etiquette for some reason, when last night you both saw more of each other than you’d really planned on.

“No, go ahead,” you say, and he slips into the bathroom. You take this second to take off your thick denim jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and also remove your shoes and socks and place them neatly beside the door. You’re left in the comfy tight t-shirt dress, and you try to remind yourself that last night never even happened. It wasn’t real. Be cool.

You relax back on the pillows a little as you strive to get comfortable on the bed, not wanting to seem too relaxed but also be nonchalant, like this conversation was about to be the simplest thing you’d ever done. You tuck your barren legs up underneath you, leaning on your elbow against the thick white pile of pillows.

He finally emerges, now clad in a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are hugging his hips, and he’s completely devoid of a shirt at all. Before you can drink him in all the way, he’s sitting on the bed in front of you, crossing his legs and reaching for the remote, muting the TV.

You sit up to meet him, suddenly surprised at the amount of attention he’s paying you. He takes both of your hands into his, clammy but warm on your skin, and brings them to gather in his lap.

“Y/N,” he begins, “I don’t want to talk about this just as much as you probably don’t, but… I think I have some explaining to do,” he starts, his voice just a tad bit shaky as you know he is about to bare it all.

“I feel absolutely terrible about how things ended up last night. That was…not me, at all. I’d had too much to drink, and my phone was being the annoying piece of shit that it is… anyway, I’m not trying to make excuses.” He squeezes your hands and scoots himself a little closer to you, still staring directly into your eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but. You’ve got me caught up, and…it’s not something I’m used to, Y/N,” he giggles, making you smirk back.

“Last night should have had a different outcome completely, and I blame myself for it. You can blame me for it, too. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and you were… fuck, you were beyond perfect—”

You cut him off, “You’re sure it wasn’t anything I’d done?”

“No! No no, you were fucking…flawless, Y/N. My vision may have been a bit blurry but you had it all. You have it all. Absolutely everything. And I feel like such a fucking dick that I didn’t get to…repay you. Give it back to you… you deserved more, and I’m…mortified. Humiliated over it. I wanted to dig a hole and cover myself up and never ever come out of it, honestly. I still do. It’s like the worst thing that can— anyway, you deserve to be treated right, you deserve to be shown the same kind of effort you were showing me last night…” you feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

You lean a little into his hand, the feeling of his touch making you flutter with butterflies. “…And I haven’t thought of another goddamn thing since.”

You giggle a little. “Come on now,” you say shyly. “You’re a famous rock star, there’s no way your mind’s been taken up with me all day. I’m probably the lowest on your list of past flings.” You’re honest in your admission of feelings, but you secretly hope it will just fuel him to keep talking.

“No, think again, Y/N.” His voice suddenly deepens. “That’s absolutely untrue.” His fingertips trickle to the back of your neck. “The way your hips felt in my hands, the way you took over control and put matters into your own hands…fuck. And your mouth…” his thumb is pressing a little harder, now. “Yeah, I haven’t had a clean thought all day, if we’re being honest,” he laughs. You pull one hand away from his grip and place it on his knee, squeezing it just a little as your bodies slowly inch closer and closer in toward one another.

“I’ve never met another woman that’s captivated me so quickly before,” he continues, his breaths now shorter and chopped as he speaks. “You came in and fucked my whole world up, Y/N… You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years. You make me nervous…”

Your faces are within inches now as you return his gaze, listening to him talk. Your hand drifts higher on his thigh, gently squeezing at the muscle as it climbs. His hand is still firmly gripping your face, the ends of his fingertips now tickling at your hairline. You can feel the tingles going up and down your spine like flashing lights, each word that escapes from his mouth setting the next one on fire.

Finally you speak. “Look, Jake, you don’t have to explain anything else to me. I realize that something was off last night, and that isn’t how things probably go for you normally. I’ve felt our chemistry, and there’s something…there, ya know? And honestly there for a few minutes, we actually had things going, and I think we had it figured out. You felt…” you bite your lips together, feeling a little shy. “You felt really fucking good. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed or upset with yourself. We’re adults, and I’m aware that shit happens. Not every time can be perfect. You were still on my mind all day long, today. Been hoping you would text me, something,” you go on, feeling his fingertips grip and release your hair every few seconds.

A sly smile creeps to his lips as you watch his eyes squint. He looks relieved, but there’s also something else. “I hope you know that I’m more than capable of…making you feel good, and I’d really like it if you’d give me a second chance to redeem myself. I wanna prove it to you.”

You can do nothing but nod your head, feeling the magnetism of his pull bringing you forward, both of your chests heaving with want for each other now. You’re absolutely dying to touch him, reach out and feel the electricity radiating from his body, but you stop yourself. You’re going to let him make the first move.

You exhale onto him, letting the thick, hot air from your lungs dance across his lips as he releases your other hand, letting it come up to cup your other cheek. Your foreheads balance on one another’s, and you can feel the palpable tension building up second by second.

“Thank you, for hearing me out,” he whispers onto your lips, before gently pressing them onto yours, an almost featherlight peck. You both pull back for a second, taking a final look at one another before you crash into each other’s mouths again, heated, fiery, and wanting.

Your other hand grips his thigh, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from pouncing on him, laying him back into the sheets and devouring him, but you hold back. You want to take your time, and you know he wants to do this the right way.

The kiss deepens, your tongues reaching far to taste every bit that they can. His hands slowly drift from your jawline to your shoulders and finally to your chest, lightly letting his fingertips descend before resting again on your hips. You’re both still sitting cross-legged on the bed, your knees touching each other’s as you each lean in. You want to make the next move, but again, you want to let him steer this ship as much as he wants to.

So for the moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss, concentrating and honing in on committing every detail of it to your memory. He’s not forceful, but he doesn’t hold back, either. It’s the perfect mix of control and submission, and you haven’t even moved past the most basic part yet. His hands move again, sneaking under your legs to pull you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sit on his lap.

Your chests are pressed together now, heaving and already breathless. You can feel that he’s excited below you; thankfully things are already going way better than they were last night. You continue to devour one another, touching and feeling and pulling every piece of him that you could, and him doing the same in return. A quick visual pops into your mind- you’d worn a skimpy little red lace thong just in case, and now you’re silently thanking yourself for the choice, knowing that when the time comes, he’s going to go absolutely insane at the sight of you in it.

You take a second to pull away, grinding yourself down onto him as you trail lovebites down his neck and shoulder, and the sounds that growl from his chest make your nails dig into his skin. He hisses a little bit, but you’re more than positive that he likes the sensation. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto him again, making you take complete notice that he wants you just as badly. He leans his neck sideways as your tongue drifts from his collarbone up his jugular, the artery pulsing hard beneath your lips. You bite it lightly before continuing up to his ear, gently taking his ear lobe between your teeth.

You feel him pull back and laugh a little through his nose, and you’re sure you’ve found a sensitive spot. You grind yourself onto him again, this time pulling a full on groan from him. You leave your mouth hovering over his ear, blowing tiny bits of cold air onto the trail of saliva you’d left behind.

“I feel you, baby…” you whisper, allowing yourself the satisfaction of using a pet name for the very first time. His body language shifts, all his muscles tightening as you speak. “Wanna feel you more…” you mutter quietly, making his dick twitch between your legs. You could feel your warmth on the bulge of his sweatpants, and you secretly wish he would get on with it.

“You wanna do this…” he whispers back, his voice tight and gravely.

You nod hard, completely positive that you were going to go ahead with this second chance. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…”

Finally, he reaches down to grip your thighs, squeezing his palms over them before gripping the hem of your dress, rolling it up over your hips, your chest, and finally over your head. Your arms fly up to help him remove the dress completely before he lets it fall to the floor beside you. His eyes black out with lust, his jaw falling open at the sight of you only in your bra and panties. He saw you like this last night, of course, but things are different now. Each of you has something to prove.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he says, immediately burying his face between your breasts, rolling his tongue just beneath the thin fabric of your black bra. “Who knew you had all this hiding…” His hands reach up and grip the material, pulling it down to reveal your tits, bouncing and standing at attention for him. His hands waste no time rolling across them, kneading the muscle as your head falls back. His fingers massage your nipples and pull at the skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. God, you swear you could get off just from this…

He puts his right hand at the center of your sternum, pressing you back gently until you’re laid out on the bed. He scrambles to his knees, finally hovering over you a little. He lets his fingers glide from your chest down your stomach, finally hooking in the hem of your thong. He doesn’t pull it off, though… Instead he runs his fingers along the hem, around your hip, and to your asscheek, using his leverage and grip on the muscle to yank you back down toward him.

Your knee bends on its own from the motion, causing your legs to part a little as your core hits his knee. He bends down, laying sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, causing you to buck up and whine with every tiny little touch.

“Please Jake…” you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you soon, your core absolutely throbbing with want for him. Last night, you felt these same feelings. You felt this pull to him, this need. But after how it all went down, sitting there on your bed staring at the wall was the only reaction that seemed plausible… no post-sex afterglow, no blissful body aches… just an unsatisfied and discouraged feeling of letdown.

But now, twenty-four hours later, as you feel your body being pulled into him and touched by him again, you want nothing more than to replicate those few minutes of really good sex that you’d been able to achieve last night. Your body was practically begging you to let him have it.

You hear the air kick on in the room, and though you know it’s the heat, you still feel the blow of the fan forcing air across your nearly nude body. You feel chill bumps cover your entire body as you shudder a little.

“Fuck, got cold in here, didn’t it,” Jake breathes, shivering a little bit himself. “Come on, let’s get under the covers.” You don’t argue with him, feeling a chill diving down deep into your bones.

You sit up as he stands, pulling the heavy white linens back for you to get under. “Wait,” you say, walking on your knees back toward him. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, returning to kissing him hard as you pull them and his boxers all the way off. He smiles onto your lips, falling sideways a little as he trips over them around his ankles. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace as your hands tangle in his hair, gripping into it as you pull him back down onto the bed with you.

You both slide underneath and cozy up, letting the warmth come over you and calm you back down again. It’s the sight of him, though, crawling into the bed with his eyes trained on you, fully nude with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth that sends you over the edge. Suddenly your chest is heavy and your eyes are glazed with lust, that blinding feeling of carnal need setting into your lower abdomen. You don’t feel this feeling much, but when you do, you know that what you’re about to experience will be nothing short of mind blowing…it’s like the universe knows you need to let go of all human emotion if you’re going to let your body experience the interaction just as it is.

Suddenly you find yourself flipped up and straddling his legs, pulling the comforter over your head as you descend down his body. “Whoa whoa, where you going?” he smirks, his smile crooked as his hands balance by his head.

“You can prove the rest to me in a minute. I never got to finish this part last night…” you say, disappearing into the darkness of the covers. You hear his laugh fall out as an exasperated huff, but he knows better than to stop you. You put your fingertips on the insides of his thighs, pushing them away from one another as you lightly tickle your nails up them, stopping short as you take his fully-hard dick in your palm, slowly working it from bottom to top.

“Thereeeee you are…” you sing in a teasing tone. Fuck yeah, there he is. This is what you felt that night in the bathroom. This is the him that wasn’t out to play last night.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hear him laugh lowly, gently patting a hand against your cheek. You can’t see him, but you know the exact expression that’s probably on his face right now.

You squeeze him as you work your hand, gently letting your lips graze his head as you stick your tongue out a little, barely wetting the tip. You taste his saltiness on your tongue, a tell-tale sign that he is absolutely ready for whatever else the night has to bring. You let the flavor sit on your tongue for a second before you take him down completely, knowing that if he has any memory of you doing this last night, it was probably spotty, at best.

“Fuck, baby…shit…” he says from the head of the bed, his thighs clenching together a little as his hands dip under the blankets to tangle in your hair. You begin to go to work, feeling halfway happy you are hiding away, able to perform without his watchful eye, but also a little sad he isn’t getting to see the show you’re putting on for him.

Like he can hear your thoughts, he speaks again, “What, you not gonna let me watch you?” He asks with a little demand in his tone, pushing the sheets up over your head to finally make eye contact. You decide to capitalize on it, fluttering your eyelashes as you take him as far as he can go, letting his tip graze the back of your throat. If he wants to watch, you’re going to give him something worth watching.

His reaction is warranted as you see him lose composure for a second, letting his head tilt back into the pillows as his jaw falls open and he lets out a cry that will be playing in the back of your mind until you fall asleep tonight. His hand tightens in your hair while the other one scoops up what has fallen in front of your face, moving it away from your mouth. His teeth grit hard as his hand pulls your hair, lifting you off and back down onto him just a little bit.

Your imagination starts to soar; it’s been a while since you’ve had a good romp, and after the letdown of last night and Jake promising to give you a good run tonight, you decide to keep the show rolling. You pop your lips off of him letting him drop your hair, spinning yourself around backwards to straddle him that way. Again, you thank yourself for the everything shower and shave this morning, knowing that now, the thin strip of red lace fabric is the only thing covering you as your ass is fully on display in front of his face.

Is it an invitation? Kind of…he said he wants to show off for you…right?

“God damn, girl…” he says through another rasp, his hand gripping your asscheek as you take him in your mouth again. You sway your hips side to side, arching your back to give him a full view of you. You feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment at your somewhat bold switch up, but after feeling his reaction and the actual pounding of the blood pumping through his dick, you know it’s all worth it.

Finally, after a string of curses from his mouth behind you, you feel his fingers slip under the thong, pulling it to the side as his fingers begin to explore you. First soft and gentle, but then switching to more of a rhythm as he feels how soaked you are. You moan onto his dick, letting your stomach fall into his as you lean back into his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby, just like last night. Gonna take care of you, I swear it…” he grumbles. His thumb finds your clit after pulling your wetness down to coat it, his digits slipping and sliding as he uses more pressure.

You whimper loudly without warning, the fire burning in your belly finding you more quickly than you’d anticipated.

You pop your mouth off of him for a breath, and he takes the second of separation to grab both of your hips, pulling you backward toward him. His tongue swipes once from your clit to your opening before he slides himself underneath you in one quick motion, pulling you down to be completely seated on his face.

Oh, there we go…

Should you do it? Should you go all in?

You only have a few seconds to toss it over in your mind before his hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down onto him even more. Yeah, he wants you to. His mouth is immediately connected to you, his tongue outstretched and licking over you as your hands balance on his stomach. “Fuuuuccckk…” you whine at a high-pitched tone, letting your head tilt back on your shoulders.

He’s wasting nothing at all. No time, no contact, no area of you goes untouched by his mouth. You begin swirling your hips, picking up a little every few seconds as you grind onto his tongue. It’s hot, but you still feel the chill of the air in the room, causing you to break out in another rush of goosebumps from the air and the pleasure. You catch a small glimpse of the two of you in the hotel room mirror, the visual more than you can bear as his tongue flicks across your sensitive bud again.

“Jake…shit…if you keep doing that…” your nails dig into his pecs again as you begin to feel your knees burning, your hips swirling and bouncing as he holds you steadily connected with his mouth. Even when you try to pull off to give him a breather, he pats your thighs with his fingertips, telling you to come back down.

“Mmmhm…” he agrees, shaking his face against you, the slight prickle of his mustache a blissful roughness on your sensitive spots. “Lemme have it, baby…” he works out, bending one knee up to sturdy himself. You can hear the pants of breath he’s taking as he talks before yanking your body weight right back down onto him again.

Your vision is beginning to blur as you feel the tightness forming in your stomach, every inch of you on fire as you feel the release building and building. Your movements become chopped and faulty, and just as you’re about to lose all composure, Jake grips the back elastic of your thong, letting the stretchy material snap back against your skin. The tinge of pain sends you toppling over the edge, your entire body shaking and trembling as everything goes white. He continues his work, his tongue still snaking and swirling in the most animalistic way, letting you ride through it until you’re back on earth.

When you’re finally able to breathe again, you lean forward onto all fours so he can sit up all the way, and instead of crashing back down beside him, all you want to do is give him more. Let him give you more. That was just a preview. Now…you want him. You need to feel him inside of you again.

You turn in the bed, catching sight of his face covered in your slick…his lips pink and blotchy as he runs his hands across his face. You inch your way back over to him, using your own palm to wipe from his forehead down to his chin, twisting your fingers over his chin to bring his face crashing onto yours again. You let your tongue sink into his mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your hands are all over each other as he takes you in one arm, pulling you back underneath the covers with him again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Y/N…I need you right the fuck now.”

You’re lying beneath him now, still riding the high of your overwhelmingly good orgasm, but quickly making your way back up to arousal again with the sight of him so wanting for you. His state is almost pathetic, the look on his face pitiful but commanding as his jaw clenches over and over again.

Your hands are attached to his sides as he reaches into the floor for his pants from earlier, pulling out a little square package. You notice it’s a different kind than the one he had last night, and you’re thankful he’s switched brands.

“Hurry, Jake…” you say, your heart pounding in your ears. You watch as he rips the wrapper in half with his teeth, removing the colored condom and spitting the trash onto the floor. He’s sat back on his haunches and you perk up onto your elbows, using one hand to help him slide it over himself, completely hard and ready for you.

You feel like you could spontaneously combust at any second, the need for him stronger than anything you’ve felt in a long, long time. The way he looks sitting between your parted knees, adoring every inch of you as he swallows down any inhibition or doubt that he’s still holding onto from the embarrassment of last night.

He takes a second more to place his hands on your knees, letting them drift down between your legs as he connects his two middle fingers to swirl your clit again. Your legs part even further as he kisses you again, finally towering over you completely before removing his hand, grabbing himself and lining up with you.

“Show me again…” you whisper into his ear, his hair completely falling all over your face. It’s mere seconds before you feel him gently press into you, only an inch or two before retracting his hips, letting out a calming exhale before he presses forward again, this time a little further. The stretch is blowing your mind already, your nails traveling down his back to grip his ass, willing him to fill you to the hilt.

“Easy, baby…just take it as I give it to you,” he growls in your ear, and his commanding words make you cease your movements altogether, releasing your strong grip on his back.

“No no…keep doing that, though…fuck, keep doing that…” he begs, touching his forehead to yours. His brows are pinched together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every few seconds as his eyelids flutter open and closed. You do as he says, digging your nails into him as he thrusts slowly, each time a little further in.

The sensation is overwhelming, taking away every single one of your senses and directing them toward what he is making you feel right now. The noises you already can’t stop yourself from making are bouncing off the walls as you look behind him, watching his hips move the covers as he fills you, over and over until he finally bottoms out.

“God…fuck, Jake….” You both make pathetic sounds as he pauses there, letting himself feel you wholly. He pulls up, taking a rutted breath as he makes desperate eye contact with you. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss, eliciting a high pitched wail from him as he starts picking up a pace.

He breaks away after a second or two, “‘m not gonna go easy on you, baby…let me know if I need to slow down…” his words rip through your chest as if you’d just gotten a shot to the heart. You shake your head side to side.

“Lemme see it, come on…” you pant, already feeling your muscles doing their best to pull him in as far as your body will let him.

He picks up the pace now, jutting his hips deeply into you. The feeling is making your head feel cloudy and dense, but the pleasure filling your bloodstream is the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. He pauses, sitting up a little to toss your leg over his shoulder, slowing down just a little bit as he hits from a different angle. This one is deeper and titled a little, and you can feel the tip of him grazing your cervix with every push.

He can tell your facial expression has changed as he slows down again, almost to a complete stop. “What baby, you okay?” he asks.

“No no, yeah, don’t stop…please…” you motion with your hand for him to continue, the sickening pleasure mixed with the tightening pain, a blissful concoction that is hard to admit you love. But you do. You love it all.

His pace becomes furious again as he picks up where he left off, your leg draped over his shoulder as he has one hand over your knee, and the other gripping into the muscle of your thigh. He’s squeezing so hard, and his hips are pounding at such a forceful pace that you’re sure he is leaving bruises, but they’ll be bruises that you accept without argument, admiring them as you look in the mirror tomorrow.

He’s everything, right now…his eyes delving deep into yours as you drink him in, letting your sounds let him know how good he’s making you feel. How perfect you fit, how much better this is going than it did last night…

Suddenly he pulls all the way out of you, lifting your body to flip onto your stomach. His hands are under your hips, pulling them back again just the same as he had done earlier, but this time he hops to the floor, pulling you back again to meet him on the edge. “Hold on, baby,” he instructs, and you do, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as you feel him enter you from behind, this time.

The height couldn’t be more perfect as this new position makes you drop your face to the mattress, fully surrendering yourself to him. You haven’t felt anything like him before, each and every move he makes is making your nerve endings burn with fire.

He lays a harsh smack to your ass, and you grunt in rebuttal, letting the delicious pain surge through your muscle. His pace quickens again, and his hand is on the back of your neck, pinning his fingers to either side of your throat from behind. “Fuck yes…” you breathe out, your eyes beginning to fill with clouds.

You hear the smack of his lips, knowing that he’d just wet his finger, and suddenly his other hand quickly finds your clit again, swirling tiny circles on it and sending you into a whole new wave of satisfaction. Your cries push out with every thrust, and you feel like you’re on the verge of tears. It’s all overwhelming and encompasses your every thought, the sounds of your bodies hitting together making it all even more devious when you close your eyes, imagining the scene.

He continues this way for a minute or so, the sounds of your bodies smacking together building up your second orgasm on their own.

Then, he’s pulling your torso up, your back meeting his chest as he slows the pace of his thrusts, but never letting up on the swirl of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…so perfect…” his words are calm now as he begins kissing your neck, still pumping in and out of you. His arm wraps around your front, pulling you back into him so you don’t collapse forward. He can tell you’re close.

“Jake…I’m almost…” you breathe, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“Me too, baby. Keep squeezing me just like that…” he asks as a whisper in your ear, his mouth still connected to your neck, his other hand gripping your tit.

With a particularly pointed flick to your clit, and a deep thrust, your entire world is crumbling beneath you, your body falling to pieces as you let it all go. His fingers squeeze your nipple hard, sending that sensation into overdrive. He isn’t far behind as his grip tightens all over you, his pace now rutted and messy as you hear him groaning in your ear. The entire world goes quiet for a minute as you hit the peak of your highs together, rendering both of you speechless as you hold your breath.

“Motherfucker…” he says as he finally comes back down, releasing you to fall forward onto the bed. All of your muscles are limp and lifeless as he collapses beside you, both of you too sweaty now to care about cuddling back up together.

“Yeah, mother fucker,” you laugh, pulling away a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead and cheek. “That’s was…you were…” you open your mouth to find the words, but they simply don’t come.

He props up on his elbows, kissing a sweet peck onto your shoulder. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but I agree…” he chuckles. “You’re near goddamn perfect, Y/N.”

“Near?! What do you mean, near?!” you joke, shoving his mouth off of your shoulder.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Fuckin’ amazing, is what I meant. Flawless in every single way,” he says, his cheeks turning the sweetest shade of crimson.

You take turns in the bathroom cleaning up, and you can’t wipe the smile that’s permanently plastered to your face. He’d done it all, he’d proven himself to you, in the most mind-blowing way you could have dreamt up. You don’t want to admit it, but you can see yourself getting caught up by Jake just as he admitted he is caught up by you. And after sex like that, well…

You begin to pick up your things from the floor and redress just as he is coming out of the bathroom. “No no, where are you going?” he asks, his tone a little let down.

“I’m…going back to my room…” you say, caught off guard.

“No. Stay here, please? After that I– I don’t know, I don’t want you to go,” he says. “Please stay.”

You laugh, tossing your shoes back into the corner. “You sure? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?”

He scoffs. “The fuck would I get in trouble for?”

“I’m your employee, Jake…” you remind him.

His face contorts up. “I don’t like how that sounds, remember.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large white t-shirt, tossing it your way. You pull it over your head as he flips the light off, pulling the disheveled sheets back again for you both to climb into. You have to admit, you’re glad he asked you to stay, as you’re not sure if your tired muscles would have liked walking down the long hall to the elevator.

He pulls you in to spoon him, turning on the TV to the guide channel. His body feels perfectly aligned with yours as his hand rests on the outside of your thigh, the other propping his head up above yours.

“You’re a woman that I’ve taken a keen interest in, and am enjoying pursuing, and well, occasionally sleeping with every now and then. Who sometimes goes on errands for us,” he says in retaliation, making you giggle.

“…and your company also signs my paychecks,” you retort.

He hisses in a quick breath. “Ehhhh yeah, I guess you’re right. But just, I don’t like how it sounds. So quit saying it like that.” He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, sealing in his words.

“Okay, okay,” you agree.

After a few minutes, he speaks again through a yawn. “So, did I prove myself? Was my attempt at redemption enough to make you forget last night ever even happened?” he asks.

You close your eyes as you press your ass into his groin again, making him hop back a little in surprise. “Jake, I told myself last night never even happened as soon as you left my room,” you admit, and you are telling the truth. “I knew there was no way…”

You hear him huff a tiny laugh, “You had some faith in me, baby?”

Your blood runs a little hotter every time he calls you baby, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely enamor you.

You twist your body beneath his hand to lay on your back. You fluff the pillow beneath your head, feeling his free hand move to assist you in finding the perfect position. His right hand doesn’t leave your body though, sliding just under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare stomach. “Maybe just a little.”

JAKE POV

Her skin is warm beneath your hand, her body still cooling down after the activities of the last hour. It was perfect. Every single thing you ever wanted it to be and even a little more. She is perfect. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you saw her grabbing her things, there was no way you could let her leave this room thinking that this was just sex. I mean, yeah maybe that was your intention tonight, but there was something else. You know that the sex wouldn’t have been what it was if there wasn’t something more lying beneath the surface. You wanted her to stay here with you. You wanted to hold her and be with her and enjoy the afterglow.

Even in the dark room you can’t take your eyes off of her. The way the TV is flashing blue light across her face she almost looks angelic. You let your fingers trace tiny circles into her skin as you look at her, completely enamored with every single detail of her. You reach for the remote flipping through the channels looking for anything you could mindlessly fall asleep to.

“Should I pick something and show you what a good movie looks like?” you tease, tickling your fingers into her stomach.

“I know what good movies are, thank you very much,” she quips, turning her head to look at you. Her eyes are shiny as they look into yours, lingering for just a second before flicking back to the TV.

Her hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, your face falling into her touch on its own accord.

“Hey…” she whispers, waiting for you to look at her. “Tell me why you were so in your head yesterday.”

Fuck. Do you tell her? Do you tell her the real reason? Do you risk ruining this moment with the truth?

“Ahh…It was a lot of things. Tour, traveling, the drinking, obviously. Also just a lot of pressure to do this and do that…or, don’t do this, and don’t do that. It’s hard sometimes, living this lifestyle. It’s incredibly isolating, and after a while you almost start to lose touch with what’s real,” you answer, skirting around the real reason.

She rolls to face you, not letting her hand leave your jaw as she presses a soft, delicate kiss to your lips. You feel your whole body relax into her, feeling a peace come over you that you haven’t felt in a long time. A kiss that told you she understands.

“I’m here, and this is real and you don’t have to feel isolated anymore, if you don’t want to,” she breathes.

You kiss her again, pulling her into you just a little closer. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours.

She drops her hand and nuzzles her face into your neck, a soft sigh falling from her lips. You know she’s tired, because you’re tired. You let your own head fall back onto the pillows, your arm wrapped around her shoulders as she snuggles into your side. You can’t help but let Josh’s words from yesterday float through your mind. You wonder if what you are doing is wrong, if you should make sure Isla knows you two are done before pursuing Y/N any further. Though, it’s a little too late for that.

You push it away as you feel Y/N drifting off to sleep on your chest, but now your mind is racing and you need to quiet it. You reach over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and powering it back on. You’re immediately met with about ten missed calls and too many texts to count. You quickly open them, clearing out the notifications but paying no mind to what they say. Instead you open your shared playlist, the perfect song coming to mind.

You sneakily add ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Reignwolf to the playlist, knowing she will get a laugh out of that when she sees it. You turn your face to her head, letting your lips brush the crown of her head as you breathe her in. The feeling of her next to you and her deep rhythmic breathing is starting to slow your busy mind. You lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand, turning off the TV and letting your eyes close. You replay the night in your head, every perfect second of it, praying that it will make an appearance in your dreams tonight.

—

You aren’t sure what woke you, maybe the heat of the room, or the slamming of the door in the hallway. Your eyes pop open, scratchy and dry as they adjust to the darkness of the room. You immediately feel Y/N next to you, no longer on your chest but her legs still tangled with yours. Your heart swells at the vision of her curled up in the bed next to you.

You reach out for your phone, tapping the screen to see what time it is. 4:46AM.

You see that a new song has been added to your shared playlist, and you smile knowing that Y/N must have woken up sometime during the night and saw your addition. You tap the notification and bring up the playlist to see what she added, letting a small laugh leave your lips as it loads. ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-n-Pepa was added two hours ago. She’s so fucking cute you could hardly stand it. You had half a mind to wake her up and show her all over again just how much you wanted her.

However, when you close out of the playlist a new round of missed calls graces your screen, along with a seemingly endless string of texts from Isla. You let out a sigh as you tap the message icon to see what she could possibly need this badly.

Opening the messages you see a link to Danny’s close friends story sent at nearly one in the morning. You furrow your brow and tap on the video, seeing Sam and Lyla taking tequila shots together, but of course in the background of the video just barely noticeable, is you leaving the bar with Y/N.

Goddamnit Daniel.

Isla

1:12AM: Who the fuck that girl Jake?

Isla

1:25AM: She’s cute, nice!

Isla

1:30AM: Is this why you’ve been so “busy” all the sudden?

Isla

1:41AM: Does she even know about us or is she just some whore you found while you’re there

Isla

1:52AM: Nevermind! It was almost too easy to find her profile, this her? Y/N?

Isla

1:55AM: Oh my god, she works for you…

Isla

1:56AM: Management is gonna love this. ❤️

Isla

1:58AM: How about you just call me tomorrow

Mother fucker. Motherfucker.

You debate getting out of bed to call her right now. You know how she is and you know what she is capable of, and you’d be goddamned if that woman was going to ruin this for you. You start to type, the fury boiling in your veins as your thumbs swipe across the keyboard, but suddenly you feel Y/N stirring next to you and it’s as if all the rage you were holding in disappeared. She rolls towards you, her hand coming to rest on your arm as she snuggles her head down into the pillow. You felt yourself relax under her touch, and instantly the message on your screen didn’t seem to matter. You deleted everything you typed and closed out of it, placing your phone back on the nightstand.

You looked at her, sleeping so peacefully next to you and decided that all of that could wait. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before Isla made her move, and when she did she would strike to kill. You grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into you, feeling her fit so perfectly, so naturally into your arms that it made you weak.

You knew there was a chance that this night, this one night, may be all you get with her, and you were going to enjoy every single last second of it, knowing that morning would come, and with it a likely very nasty conversation between you and Isla. But more than that, it brought the promise that Y/N’s face would be the first thing you would see, and that alone had you closing your eyes ready to face another day.

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