#this word vomit is of course just how I process this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sofreddie · 3 months ago

Text

Not Our First Fan

Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink

WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)

A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )

My Masterlist

Y/N POV

I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.

I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.

“So, what do you want to know?”

I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.

“The truth.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.

“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”

I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.

“Is there a question, or…?”

Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.

“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”

He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.

“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”

My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.

I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.

“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”

God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.

"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.

“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”

Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.

“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”

As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.

“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”

“Dean!”

I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.

I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties.

I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.

As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.

I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.

“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.

“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”

I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.

“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”

As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.

“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”

“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!

“Why would I want you to leave?”

His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.

“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”

Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.

“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”

He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.

“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”

Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.

I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.

As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.

“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.

“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”

I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.

“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”

I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.

Dean POV

God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.

Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.

“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”

“Sam, I told you to leave it.”

“No, Dean!”

His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.

“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“She’s not a threat, Sam.”

“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”

“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”

My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”

My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.

“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”

His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.

“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.

“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”

I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.

It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.

There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.

It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice.

I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.

“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it

“Is everyone alright?”

“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”

“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”

The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.

“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”

She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.

“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”

She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.

“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”

It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.

“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.

“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”

We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.

When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.

“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”

“You sure?”

She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”

I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.

Y/N POV

What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.

When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.

Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)

It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?

I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.

I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?

When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt.

“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.

“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”

“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.

“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.

Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?

Turns out, not long at all.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Hey, Dean. Need something?”

Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.

“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”

This really was happening.

“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”

“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.

“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”

“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.

Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.

“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.

I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.

Dean POV

It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.

I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.

But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.

Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.

She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.

Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.

When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.

I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

Sam POV

I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.

“Het, got a minute?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sam, I told you-”

“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”

My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.

“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”

As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.

“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”

Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.

“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”

She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.

“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.

“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”

He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.

I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.

While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.

Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?

“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”

Y/N POV

After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.

“Are we done? Can I go?”

I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.

“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”

“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”

“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.

“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.

“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”

He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.

Dean POV

Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.

“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”

“Dean, I’m just-”

“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”

“Whoa, I’m not-”

“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.

“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.

“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”

“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”

“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”

“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.

I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.

Sam POV

Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.

After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.

My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.

I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.

I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.

Dean POV

Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.

Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.

She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?

The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?

I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.

Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.

I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.

Y/N POV

Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.

While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.

Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.

This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.

I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.

I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.

I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.

“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.

“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”

Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.

“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”

Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.

“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.

He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.

“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”

Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.

Dean POV

“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”

She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.

When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.

“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.

“I thought Baby needed work?”

I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.

“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”

“Oh.”

She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others.

She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.

Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.

I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.

“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, this is great!”

She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.

“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”

She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”

She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.

The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.

“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”

I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.

“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”

She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?

Y/N POV

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.

“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”

“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”

“I would have said I respect and admire you.”

“But not that you love me? Why?”

I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.

“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”

I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.

“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”

I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.

“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.

“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”

The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.

“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.

“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.

I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.

“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.

“I’ll drink to that!”

We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.

Dean POV

It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.

I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.

But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.

“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.

I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.

“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.

“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”

“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.

As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.

I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.

“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.

“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.

I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.

“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.

Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.

Y/N POV

I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.

With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.

“Race you to the car?”

I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.

Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.

“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.

“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”

I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.

I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.

“Y/N.”

Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.

His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.

He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.

I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.

Dean POV

Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.

If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.

How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?

The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.

“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”

I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.

I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.

As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire.

She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.

Y/N POV

I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.

“Dean, take me to bed?”

I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”

I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.

“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”

That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.

He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.

“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.

“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”

I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room. Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.

He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.

“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.

Dean POV

She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.

I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.

I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.

As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.

She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.

She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.

“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.

“Y/N!”

It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.

She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.

She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.

“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.

I laughed again and kissed her soundly.

“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.

As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.

“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”

Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.

Y/N POV

Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.

He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.

Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.

“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.

His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.

“My…my breeding kink.”

I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.

Dean POV

Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.

I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.

Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.

As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.

“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”

I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.

In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.

Y/N POV

My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.

I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.

I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.

He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.

“Dean!”

I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.

God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.

I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.

I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.

“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”

I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.

“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”

God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

Dean POV

She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.

As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.

“Dean?”

Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.

“Wanna feel you come.”

My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.

“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”

She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

“So fucking perfect.”

I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.

We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.

I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.

She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.

I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.

I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.

I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.

“No. Don’t move. Please.”

I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.

Y/N POV

Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.

“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”

“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.

“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.

“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.

When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.

Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.

“Hey.”

I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.

He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.

He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.

He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.

Dean POV

When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.

She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.

I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.

I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.

I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.

She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.

Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.

Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.

I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.

I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.

This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me.

God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

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@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

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

@leigh70

@laycblack

DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@awkward-and-indecisive

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

#not our first fan #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #longshot #long oneshot

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edenesth · 8 months ago

Text

TWTHH Spinoff: Take Me Away [1]

Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution

Summary: While working on a new case in town, Wooyoung was captivated when he stumbled upon a beauty unlike any other. Just as he began to believe that he might have found a Lady Park of his own, word got out that she was merely the newest courtesan at the town's brothel. Disheartened by this revelation, he nearly abandons his pursuit of her until he hears whispers suggesting that she may not have been there of her own will.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"If you're just going to hide in the corner and not even attempt to attract potential clients, then make yourself useful and collect my new hair accessories from this shop," commanded Iseul, one of the more senior courtesans, as she handed you an invoice listing her orders for specific designs.

Rather than protesting or attempting to evade the task as she had anticipated, you enthusiastically agreed, "Of course, unnie!" before taking the document from her and dashing out of the brothel.

"Thank heavens. Anything to escape that dreadful place," you whispered to yourself, clutching the parchment close to your chest. You were relieved to be away from the hellhole that was supposed to be your new home, even if only for a bit.

Instead of keeping an eye out for the shop whose name and address were stated on the invoice, all you could concentrate on was the sight of ordinary people living their lives freely. You remembered once dreading the idea of having to marry out of obligation once you reached a certain age, but now you would gladly choose that life over this one. At least then, you would only belong to one man instead of any man willing to pay for your company or... services now.

Had you known a week ago how drastically your life would change, you would have run away from home much sooner. You should have done it earlier, if only it weren't for your tender, foolish heart that still felt sorry for your deadbeat father. He had done nothing but drink and gamble away all the money you earned from washing dishes at a nearby food stall. And all of that just for him to sell you off to a brothel when he realised he had no money left to pay off his debts.

A week before today, he stumbled home reeking of alcohol and vomit after being gone all night. He moved to drag you to your feet while you were tidying up the shabby little home you had grown up in, his tight grasp tearing a hole in the thin, worn hanbok clinging to your frail frame. You struggled against his hold, crying out, "What in god's name are you doing, father?! Let me go!"

Confused about his intentions, as he typically treated you as if you were invisible and only approached you when he needed money, you received no response. He dragged you toward the entrance and threw you out, causing you to land roughly on the ground.

As you gazed at the expensive fabric before you, you looked up to see a well-dressed woman with heavy makeup smirking down at you, "You'll do just fine. Thank you, Mr. Han. We accept your payment. I hope you're comfortable with never seeing her again, unless you decide to pay the Mansion of Midnight a visit, of course."

Your heart stopped in recognition of the name. The Mansion of Midnight—the notorious brothel that had haunted your nightmares since you were old enough to understand its existence.

You couldn't believe it.

Refused to believe it.

How could your father do this to you? How could he sell his own daughter to such a place just to pay off his debts?

Anger and disbelief surged within you as you struggled to process the enormity of his betrayal. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought against the overwhelming sense abandonment. Clutching the torn fabric of your hanbok, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair. This wasn't the life you had imagined for yourself, and yet here you were, thrust into a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

Turning to look at him, you knew all hope was gone when you found him waving his hand dismissively in response to the woman you now recognised as the brothel madam, "Whatever, so long as this means my debts are cleared. Just take her and go."

His callous words pierced through you like a knife, confirming what you had feared deep down. There would be no rescue, no redemption in his eyes. He was willing to sacrifice you without a second thought, all for the sake of his own selfish reasons.

Disgust and rage bubbled up inside you as you stared at him, unable to comprehend how a father could abandon his own flesh and blood in such a manner. The man you once hoped would someday change for the better was now nothing more than a heartless stranger.

I guess I'm the fool for staying.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, silently vowing to never forgive him for his betrayal. In that moment, you knew you were alone in this world, left to fend for yourself in a cruel and unforgiving reality. But despite the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to give up hope. You would find a way to survive, to reclaim your dignity and freedom.

Now, trapped in this place, you cursed yourself for even pitying him when you should have abandoned him, just like your mother did when you were merely a child. She left him for someone who could offer her a better life, one with no room for you. She left you with this sorry excuse of a man. Sometimes, you wonder why they bothered bringing you into this world in the first place, just for you to endure a life filled with so much unhappiness.

Lost in thought and unaware of your surroundings, a startled gasp escaped your lips as your shoulder bumped into another man's, causing the parchment in your hand to slip to the ground along with a few items belonging to him, "Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry! I should have been more attentive. Here, let me help you gather your belongings," you apologised hastily, scrambling to collect his things while he did the same. Your movements paused when he accidentally grabbed your hand as you both reached for the same item.

"It's fine, my lady. Let me take care of it—"

As you lifted your heads to meet each other's gaze, your breath caught in your throat upon making eye contact. While you internally chuckled with a mixture of disbelief and sadness, realising how romantic this first encounter with this good-looking stranger could have potentially been if only you were an ordinary girl, he was too captivated by your beauty to utter a word.

So beautiful.

As Wooyoung took in the stunning lady before him, his heart skipped a beat. After encountering a woman as beautiful as Lady Park, he had almost resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn't find anyone more gorgeous. Yet, today, he found hope as he marvelled at you.

Judging from your initial reaction upon bumping into him, you were clearly not some rich little spoiled brat. There was a genuineness about you, a humility that spoke volumes to him.

Now, he just had to put his investigator skills to good use; find out who you were, which house you hailed from, and whether you were betrothed to another. If all went according to plan, he envisioned courting you, and perhaps, finally experiencing what it was like to have the kind of connection General Park and his wife shared—a love that transcended time and circumstance.

With determination in his heart, Wooyoung made a mental note to uncover the identity of this intriguing woman. You were a rare gem amidst the chaos of this world, and he was determined to unravel the mystery surrounding you.

As his gaze lingered on you, self-consciousness crept in. What if he was seeing through your identity? What if he knew the kind of job you were meant to be doing? The thought made you uneasy. Was that why he couldn't take his eyes off you? Perhaps it was his first time seeing a courtesan up close?

He could be disgusted for all you knew.

Blinking rapidly, you pulled your hand away and hurriedly stood up. Without giving him another chance to speak, you bowed deeply and politely excused yourself. You could still feel his intense stare burning into your back as you ran off, eager to get away from him for fear of his potential reaction when he realised what you were.

Tears of frustration blurred your vision as you struggled to focus on finding the damn shop you were meant to visit. Your heart felt heavy with hopelessness, knowing that thanks to your father, your life would never be the same. It was ruined now, irreversibly altered by his selfish actions.

Even if you were to somehow make your escape from this nightmare, your reputation would forever be tainted by this part of your history. There was no way you'd be able to hide the truth from anyone—the truth that you were once a courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight. The thought filled you with despair. No one would ever be able to accept you, nobody decent ever would.

Each step felt like a burden as you trudged along the unfamiliar streets. The world seemed bleak and unforgiving, with no glimmer of hope on the horizon. You felt utterly alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to confide in.

Help. Somebody, please help me.

Watching the mysterious, beautiful stranger he had encountered run off in the opposite direction, the investigator felt his heart pound in his chest. He tried to commit the image of your angelic features to memory, already excited to learn more about you.

For once, after completing his last assignment at the general's estate, he felt a glimmer of hope. Seonghwa had dismissed not only him but also Yunho and Hongjoong as soon as his grand wedding ceremony in the palace ended, expressing his desire for some alone time with his beloved wife. It seemed like everyone was moving on with their lives; the last Wooyoung had heard, the physician had returned to his clinic, and the dressmaker had resumed operations at his shop, both happy to grant the couple their much-needed honeymoon.

Except for him.

He had missed the thrill of working for the great General Park. While he loved his job, no other cases could ever compare to the adrenaline rush of working for his role model. Besides, that wasn't the only perk; he also had the opportunity to see the beautiful Lady Park nearly every day. He had been feeling bored, merely going through the motions with his current case until now.

His passion for investigating was reignited.

Screw his current case; it wasn't that important anyway. He had been hired by some wealthy old noblewoman to investigate whether her husband was cheating on her. It was while he was tailing the sleazy old man that he found himself in this part of town. But it looked like his new employer's case would have to take a back seat for now. Perhaps he should thank the old couple; otherwise, he wouldn't have stumbled upon his new dream girl today.

Yes, his new dream girl, because until just moments ago, that position had been occupied by Seonghwa's wife. Luckily for him, the general never discovered his tiny crush on her; otherwise, leaving the estate unscathed might have proven difficult. Jongho and Hongjoong had graciously kept his secret, for which he felt eternal gratitude. For his sake, he sincerely hoped the two would carry this secret to their graves. After all, he now has a new goddess to worship.

Without wasting a moment, Wooyoung immediately approached the people around him who had witnessed his accidental collision with you. Although most shook their heads, claiming they didn't recognise you, he tried not to be discouraged. With his skills, he knew he could gather all the information he needed in no time.

That night, he returned home and sketched the enchanting features he still vividly remembered before going to bed. His mind buzzed with the possibilities of who you could be. The following day, he planned to inquire again, armed with the drawing he had created. As the famous investigator Jung Wooyoung, he believed there was nothing he couldn't find if he set his mind to it. And now, he was investing even his heart into it.

The next morning, he rose extra early, having barely slept as endless thoughts of the mysterious beauty consumed his dreams throughout the night. He hastily devoured the breakfast prepared by his servants, bid his parents goodbye, and rushed out of his family estate toward that part of town once again. Eager to learn more about you immediately, he clutched the drawing tightly in his hand, feeling a glimmer of hope.

As he questioned people with the help of his sketch, some claimed to have seen you around but didn't know enough about you to provide further details. Nonetheless, it was a promising start. Surely, as he ventured closer to where you first emerged the day before, he would come across people who knew you.

True enough, it didn't take long for him to find someone who recognised the sweet face from his drawing. The middle-aged man smirked as he glanced at the parchment in Wooyoung's hands, "She's quite the beauty, isn't she? That, right there, is the newest recruit at the Mansion of Midnight."

"The Mansion of Midnight...?"

"Yes, it's the most well-known brothel in town, young man. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it? I suppose your young age explains it. Most of the patrons are older men, but I expected you would at least have heard of it. If you're looking for a future wife, she might not be the one for you. Beautiful as she is, she's merely a courtesan. Go find yourself a proper lady, son."

Disappointment crashed over him like a wave, his heart plummeting at the revelation. A courtesan...? All his idealistic fantasies of courting you shattered in an instant. He should have realised it was too good to be true. How could he have thought he found his own Lady Park so easily? With a heavy heart, he stuffed the piece of paper back into his pocket and trudged away, head bowed in shame. What would his parents or friends think if they knew he had been foolish enough to pursue a worker from a brothel?

Determined to rid his mind of thoughts of you, he committed himself to refocusing on his current case. In the following days, he threw himself into his work, seeking distraction like a heartbroken man. He constantly reminded himself that it was irrational to feel such strong emotions for someone he barely knew. Deep down, he knew that his infatuation was only with an idealised version of you, and not the actual you. Yet, despite this awareness, he still struggled to let go.

With a sigh, he scolded himself for letting thoughts of you distract him again while tailing his employer's husband. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand—to observe the old man's interactions and track his movements. His heart sank as he realised the intimidating building his target eagerly approached. Numerous women, adorned in heavy makeup and revealing hanboks, lingered near the entrance, attempting to attract potential clients. The words 'Mansion of Midnight' adorned a large sign in the centre of the establishment, with red curtains billowing out from open windows of various rooms on the upper floors.

Of course, it had to be here.

Suddenly, a dreadful thought struck him.

He shuddered at the possibility of you being the company his target had been seeking all along. The mere idea felt repulsive—a vision of that old man with his hands all over your delicate form. He turned to leave, no longer willing to entertain such sickening scenarios involving you. At least the case was closed. He had obtained the answers his employer sought; her husband had been frequenting the brothel. Whether or not that constituted cheating would be for her to decide. He was finished and wanted to put as much distance between himself and this place as possible.

As he tried to leave the area, his steps faltered when he overheard a conversation between a stall owner and their customer, "Have you heard about the new courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight? I heard the poor thing is there against her will, that's why she always looks so sad. Apparently, her father sold her to settle his debts—"

That was all he needed to hear before a pang of regret pierced his heart. Why hadn't he investigated more thoroughly? Why had he given up on you so easily? If that were true, you must have been terrified. The idea of your own father doing this to you made his blood boil. Suddenly, he found himself understanding General Park's fury towards the former Minister Jang all too well.

Useless son of a—

A sudden wave of protectiveness engulfed him as he felt the urgent need to rescue you. Acting on impulse, he swiftly turned around and sprinted back toward the brothel. It wasn't until he reached the establishment again that he realised he lacked a plan. What was his next move after discovering your actual situation?

Think, Jung Wooyoung, think!

Before he could even formulate a plan, one of the courtesans approached him, her demeanour dripping with seduction. She pressed her chest against his side, trailing a seductive finger across his chest. Her mouth watered at the thought of entertaining such a young and dashing man after dealing with disgusting old men for so long, "Hello there, handsome. Would you like to spend a little time with us? Have some fun? Here at the Mansion of Midnight, we provide only the best services," she purred, winking at him. He struggled to push her off without appearing too rude, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with her touchiness.

"I-I... yes, I'd like to spend some time with the newest courtesan here, please," he stuttered, managing to free himself from her grasp.

With a scoff, she crossed her arms over her chest in disbelief, "You mean Miss Han? Why? Just because she's new? She's been here for a week and is still a virgin. I assure you, experienced courtesans like myself would know better how to satisfy you."

As she attempted to promote herself further, an older woman who appeared to be in charge intervened, glaring at her, "Enough, Iseul. What did I say about respecting our client's wishes? It's not you he wants. Accept it and move along," she reprimanded. Turning to Wooyoung, the brothel madam grinned, "So, you'd like to request Miss Han, hm? I understand. She's around your age and is still pure. If I were you, she might be the only one I'd want too. Tell me, how long would you like to spend with her? An hour or two?"

"I want her to myself for the rest of the day."

"Miss Han, you fortunate little thing! Congratulations on securing your very first client. This dashing young man seems utterly smitten by you, to have reserved your company for the entire evening."

You tightly clenched your trembling fists to your chest, suppressing a terrified whimper as you listened to the brothel madam's devious teasing. You had prayed fervently that nobody would request your services, doing everything you could to remain inconspicuous over the past week, hoping they might see you as more suitable for hard labour; you'd much rather be the lowest servant than do any of this.

Yet, here you were, already with your first client, and not just any client—this man had gone as far as to secure your companionship for the entire day. Such occurrences were rare, even for the most sought-after courtesans in this establishment. You couldn't fathom who this person might be, how he had learned of you, and why he'd spend so much to buy your time.

"Wh-who is it? This customer..."

"Wouldn't you like to know? It's none other than the famous private investigator Jung Wooyoung, known for his significant role in aiding General Park's capture of former Minister Jang. I suppose even men with a strong sense of justice are still susceptible to desire," The sly woman drawled, winking at you, "Don't disappoint us, girl. A client of his calibre could become a valuable long-term patron. Treat him well."

In anticipation of this highly significant new client, they went to great lengths to prepare you. After informing you of the news, the brothel madam called upon a team of staff to bathe you and dress you in a seemingly brand-new hanbok. It was almost as revealing as the ones worn daily by Iseul and the other popular courtesans. Usually, newer girls like yourself were given hand-me-down hanboks that were less appealing, given your status. However, this didn't alleviate the pressure you were feeling; if anything, it intensified, knowing how valuable this client must be.

God, why? Why me, of all people?

You should have known that all men were alike. No matter how noble or upright they might seem, they were ultimately driven by temptation. At the end of the day, they all desired the same thing. You could only hope that he would at least go easy on you. Your heart raced in your chest as you sat on the bed in the room assigned to you and him for the night, waiting for him.

To steady your trembling hands, you balled them into fists, feeling your nails dig into the skin of your palm with such force that you were certain they would break soon. Just as you were about to sink deeper into your endless pool of misery, you froze at the sound of footsteps approaching the room. Internally cursing your father once more, you braced yourself for what lay ahead.

"This way, Mr. Jung. She's ready for you."

Hearing those words turned your stomach. Yes, this was your current reality. You were nothing more than a commodity—a comfort woman for hire. An object for men to exploit when they sought release, to use as they pleased, as long as they could pay for it.

As you accepted your fate, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, the wooden door creaking open slowly. There was no escape from this—his reservation for the entire evening could only mean one thing. He hadn't bought your time just for conversation and a meal. No, he was here for the reason most men visited a brothel. This was it; this was how you'd lose your innocence.

"Miss Han...?" The man's uncertain voice echoed through the room.

Lifting your gaze to meet the individual who would be claiming your innocence tonight, your eyes widened in recognition as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was the handsome stranger you had collided with the other day. With a gasp, you uttered, "It's you..."

"So, y-you're the famous private investigator? Wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, then shook your head and cleared your throat, "Wait, I'm sorry. That was a foolish question; everyone knows why men come here." Inside, you couldn't deny the disappointment. His initial impression had been shattered now that you knew he was your first client. He didn't seem like the type to visit such places, but you supposed you couldn't judge a book by its cover.

His eyes widened at your implication, and he quickly shook his head, waving his hands to deny it as he stepped closer to you. Seeing you visibly shrink back, he made sure to keep a respectful distance, "No, you don't understand. I'm not here for that, Miss Han."

Lowering his voice, he took a seat in the nearest chair and continued, "I'm here to help you. My name is Wooyoung, as you already know, and I'm an investigator. I heard you're here against your will because of your father. Is that right?"

He fought to keep his composure, trying not to let his gaze linger too long on your features. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks as he struggled not to let his eyes wander further down to the sheer hanbok, which left your bare shoulders exposed thanks to its see-through material. Typically, such hanboks were reserved for married women about to spend the night with their husbands. The realisation that he was alone in a room with his dream girl dressed like that was enough to leave him flustered.

But he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand. Now was not the time to be feeling shy or distracted. He had a more important mission: to get you the hell out of here. So, he pushed aside his feelings and did his best to remain composed for your sake.

Nodding slowly, you furrowed your brows with scepticism, "Help me? Why? You don't even know me. What's in it for you? I have no money, and the only thing I can offer is..." Your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your body. Your distrust was palpable as you considered whether you could trust him. Just because he was the investigator who helped General Park capture the former Minister of Military Affairs didn't mean he had any obligation to you.

Understanding your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed deeply. He sympathised with your reluctance to trust a stranger, especially considering the betrayal you had experienced from someone you should have been able to rely on. He didn't blame you for questioning his motives; it was a reasonable response given the circumstances.

He looked into your eyes with a sincerity that struck you deeply, "Listen, not all men are like that," he said earnestly, "I know it may seem difficult for you to believe that someone would be willing to help you without expecting anything in return, but I'm here to prove to you that we exist. I'll admit your beauty captivated me initially, and I genuinely intended to court you. But after learning the truth about your situation, what kind of person would I be to not help? I won't rest until I get you out of here."

His words struck a chord within you, and there was a sincerity in his tone that you had rarely heard, not even from the people you called your parents. Despite your initial scepticism, you decided to believe him, if only for this moment. After all, if someone truly wanted to rescue you from this dreadful place, who were you to object?

You suppressed the shyness that arose upon his admission of his intentions to court you. Memories of your first encounter with him flooded back, making you ponder how different things might have been if you were an ordinary girl. Nevertheless, you were grateful he hadn't given up on you despite discovering your identity. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a friend in him.

Moving to sit across from him at the dining table in the centre of the room, you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, "Alright, Mr. Jung. I'll choose to trust you. I appreciate your efforts to help me, but... how do you plan to do that? The Mansion of Midnight isn't a small establishment. They've been around for as long as I can remember, and none of the girls working here have been able to just walk out as they please. As far as I know, I'm part of their property now."

"Not if I can help it. The larger the establishment, the more skeletons they have in their closet. Especially in a place like a brothel, I doubt their operations are entirely above board," he explained, "I'll keep returning for the next week, and buy up all your time. That'll keep other patrons away. Meanwhile, I'll use that time to snoop around. Trust me, we're getting you out of here, no matter what." He reassured you with a warm smile gorgeous enough to melt your heart, but you didn't let it show.

I most certainly hope so, Mr. Jung.

You couldn't help but admire his unwavering determination, even though a part of you hesitated to allow yourself to feel hopeful. You dared not raise your hopes too high, afraid of the crushing disappointment that would follow if his plan were to fail. Yet, at this moment, you were grateful to have crossed paths with him, whether or not he'd be able to get you out of here.

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Sir, Investigator Jung is here to see you," Jongho announced at the entrance of his master's study, an anxious Wooyoung standing beside him. The general raised his brows in surprise, "At this hour? Let him in."

Without hesitation, the investigator rushed into the room, "My lord, I apologise for showing up unannounced so late at night! I know you said not to bother you and Lady Park for the time being, but there's something urgent that I need help with—"

"Woah, breathe, Wooyoung. Calm down and take a seat. Jongho, please bring us some tea," With a bow, the assistant moved to leave before halting when Seonghwa called out to him again, "Wait! On your way back, let the mistress know not to wait up for me. I have a feeling this won't be a short meeting."

"Of course, sir," the assistant replied.

Feeling guilty for getting in the way of what should have been the couple's honeymoon time, the younger man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Gosh, I really am sorry to intrude on your alone time with your wife."

The general smiled reassuringly, shaking his head, "Please don't worry about it. It must be important for you to rush here so late. Besides, you've helped me plenty before. It's only right for me to return the favour now. Tell me, what do you need help with?"

"I know I previously declined the bonus incentives you offered, but... would it be alright for me to accept them now?"

Wooyoung hadn't fully considered the financial implications when he confidently promised to return to the Mansion of Midnight every day for the next week. It dawned on him how costly even one night there had been. He couldn't possibly ask his parents for money to be spent on a brothel. Despite it being for a noble cause, they'd have a heart attack. So, he had no choice but to seek financial assistance from Seonghwa.

I was initially going to make this into a oneshot, but that would take me too long to post and I didn't want to make y'all wait any longer than you already have! So, voila! I'm breaking this into 2 parts. The next part will be the second and final part of this spinoff.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/4): @itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 @foxinnie8 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 @kpop17 @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @kamabokogonpachro @chngbnwf @dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143

#edenesth #the way to his heart #take me away #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #historical au #joseon era #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez fic

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ivymarquis · 4 months ago

Text

Say You Won't Let Go

Last House on the Right

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 1.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Post Apocalypse!AU, Single Mom!verse, pregnant reader, mentions of pregnancy related eating issues + vomiting, Reader's got some separation issues. Fair warning this is so half baked I haven't even decided what kind of apocalypse it is, but somehow Ive got a whole plotline regardless.Same pairing as my fic Blind Date

Next Chapter

You can’t believe your luck.

You’re not sure what exactly it was about this house in the dead of night that had you so transfixed, but your intuition has paid off in spades.

The area’s been abandoned, to your knowledge leaving you the sole inhabitant meandering around.

Or maybe waddling would be a more apt description.

Fear and uncertainty of the outside hurry you along into the house. Most everyone- the survivors- has splintered off into groups. There’s no evidence of anyone still living here (admittedly it’s not like you’ve taken the time to check every room, but there are signs when a house is inhabited), but you luck out that the cabinets haven’t been picked over.

It’s been entirely too long since your last meal, and it takes a good amount of restraint to not devour the can of ravioli too quickly.

As much as you’re tempted, you know there’s a fine line between what will and won’t have you immediately throwing up in the sink- grazing seems to keep the worst of the upset down.

There’s no hospitals to jaunt off to if you end up dehydrated. Excessive vomiting is not ideal post end of days.

If you were in your right mind- not frightened, isolated, starving, cold- and not focusing on how the unheated chef boyardee might as well be a five star michelin meal for all you can think right now, you might have been paying more attention.

The sound of a safety clicking off behind you freezes your blood far more than the cold. That sound is deliberate. Whoever’s behind you- gun pointed at you- wants you to know they got the jump on you.

“Hands where I can see them,” the order is gruffly barked at you.

You feel stupid. Of course all of this was too convenient for you to simply be catching a break. It wasn’t exactly well lit and designed to draw you in- but you’re an animal caught in a trap regardless.

The fork clatters against the counter next to the can as you go to comply.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

You’re not much of a threat in your current condition. That much is obvious.

Time stopped having any sort of tangible meaning a while ago. You should know how many weeks you are, but the days run together fending for yourself and you just know that you’re close. There’s no hiding the swell of your belly.

The man at the doorway looks as gruff as he sounds. Your mind spins like a tire in mud to process everything in front of you in the poor moonlight. Military, that much is obvious. You’re not actually sure if that’s a good thing. Handsome from what you can see, though historically your type has been men who don’t have a weapon leveled at you.

The taciturn expression on his face falters when he spots your bump, but you’ve learned by now to not expect any sort of special treatment.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize immediately. “I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll leave, I swear.”

He looks at you another moment before a look of resignation washes over him.

“Turn back around. Keep your hands up.” Oh God. Your mind immediately goes to the worst- That this man, for whatever reason, has decided that your infraction has signed your death warrant. That he can’t quite bring himself to fire on a pregnant woman staring him in the eyes, so the last thing you’re ever going to see is some tacky wallpaper and ugly cabinets.

You yelp when one of his hands finds the pistol on your hip. Holy shit you didn’t even hear him cross the room.

“Easy, love,” he soothes as he starts to frisk you for more weapons. “Not gonna hurt you. You have anything else on you?”

“A knife in my back pocket.” It doesn’t even occur to you to lie; putting yourself in his good graces is your only option and you can’t do that by lying.

His hands slip under your jacket, the hem oversized and hanging even with your arms up, making a wrong guess at the first pocket he checks before grabbing the knife out of the second one.

“Anyone going to come sniffing around looking for you?” A fair question, but one that sticks like a knife between your ribs.

The “No,” that escapes you is softer than you meant it to be, voice warbling as you try not to cry.

Hormones would have had you on the verge of tears at any given point, and that would have been before the end of the world and before your group abandoned you. You’re well entitled to your tears, you think, but try to stuff them back down anyway.

“You’re out here alone,” he grouses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you. The like this? is implied.

Your arms are still up, and they’re getting tired. Everything tires you out these days.

Like he can read your mind, he releases you with a “you can set your arms down now, love.”

“Thank you,” you’re in full fawn mode, turning to face him. While he’s clearly decided against killing you, you’ve been scared and alone for the past few days and you really don’t want to be separated from the only person who will give you the time of day right now.

“Is there anyone else here? Other soldiers?” Your fate is sealed and lies in the soldier’s hands regardless of his answer.

Nothing with change, no matter what he says, but you think you’re less intimidated if it’s just the two of you.

The world’s gone to hell in a handbasket, and yet you’ll never forget watching 28 days later when the line I promised them women was dropped.

“Got separated from my team.”

He turns away from you, gesturing to follow him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He’s limping.

You haven’t seen him move until now. You’re more an expert on busted hardware than busted body parts, you can’t tell if it’s a fresh injury that’s still healing, or an old one that’s set in place.

“They left you.” They left me, too.

“They didn’t leave me for dead, they think I am dead. Gonna take a bit more than that to get the job done, though.”

You have no reason not to believe him. Despite having just met him, the man is like a living manifestation of everything masculinity is supposed to be- down to the surly attitude despite him herding you further into the house. It doesn’t take much to figure out that he’s tough as nails and sure why not flirt in death’s face that her last attempt wasn’t good enough?

You sit on the couch he points to, as he settles into the leather chair across from you.

“Christ what’d I’d do for a fucking smoke right now,” he mumbles, pawing at his chest absent mindedly on reflex.

You mean to sit stiff as a board, but your body is tired and the couch is surprisingly comfortable.

The soldier, however, sits like he owns the house. “And now for the question of what to do with you.”

#john price x reader #price x you #captain john price #apocalypse #pregnant reader #x single mom reader #my writing

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kotoku · 5 months ago

Note

May I request an Aventurine x Halovian!reader

No pressure, have a nice day, byee

[Runs]

ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

synopsis - Aventurine was always a regular at the bar you worked at due to it's reputation and closeness to the casino he frequented. As the weeks flew by, you couldn't help but gain feelings for the blond gambler yet you refuse to do anything with them. Turns out, it only took a Seven and Seven to seal the deal with him.

pairings - aventurine x halovian! reader

content - pining, drunk! aventurine, sober confessions, gagged reader

warnings - alcohol, a couple cuss words, possibly ooc aventurine, i tried focusing on the halovian part i'm sorry--

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Working in a renowned bar had its fair share of perks and flaws. The perks were the free drinks you were able to make for yourself, the amount of tips you’d receive from dreamchasers, and lastly, the stories that you would hear from each and every individual. As for the flaws..you’d have to deal with drunk patrons who’d have no shame in flirting with you, getting a little too ambitious to where they don’t respect your personal space, and some of their messes (bar fights, vomit, etc…).

As common as these situations may be, you rarely have to go through them alone thanks to your coworkers and other helpful customers. These people as well as the regulars who frequent may be the sole reason why you decide to stick around, ignoring the pay and tips of course.

Currently, you are working the closing shift this time. You had always enjoyed working during the night, finding solitude in making drinks without having to run around all day. Although passing the time was difficult with the small number of customers, a slow night brought a moment of peace for your busy brain.

Hearing the familiar jingle of the bell signaling a customer snapped you out of your daze, putting down the wine glass you were just cleaning.

“Welcome, can I get you your usual, Mr. Aventurine?” You greeted, recognizing the familiar head of blond.

Aventurine was one of the bar’s regulars, always seeking out the place after he visited the casino he frequented. A gambler at heart, he truly knew how to swindle people of their valuables. And in this case, your heart.

Despite his flirtatious actions and compliments, you always maintained a healthy distance between the two of you, never wanting to get too close…

“You don’t have to be so formal.” Aventurine gave you a smug grin, brow raised in slight amusement. “But yes. You know me so well, don’t you, _____?”

And how badly that failed.

You knew you could never tell him your feelings, for you fear you misread between the lines and all you truly were was just a friend to the man. A simple-winged bartender who was easy to toy with.

You gave him a simple smile, preparing to make his drink. “I would hope so, you’ve been coming here for a couple of months now.”

There was a small pause.

You had heard Aventurine pulling out the stool from behind you, the crinkling of clothes as he took his seat at the bar. His gaze burned through your head, yet you focused on gathering the ingredients. Turning back around, you engaged in the process that you’ve performed numerous times.

“What have you been up to, Aventurine?” You spoke, attempting to ease the silence.

“Hmm, just some business matters with The Family. Other than that, I’ve been doing the same old thing.” He replied, toying with that chip he always had on him. You hummed in response, finishing up his drink.

“Seems a little troublesome. I’m glad this bar offers you a place to unwind.” Aventurine laughed.

“You know it.”

Sliding his drink over to him, you watched as he took it between his nimble fingers and swirled it around.

“What about you? Any patrons hitting on you again lately?” Aventurine chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. You rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Of course, they always try to smooth talk their way into bagging a date with me. Which normally never turns out well for them.” You picked up the wine glass you had set down and resumed cleaning, humming along to the songs resonating throughout the bar. “Thankfully no one has tried putting their hands on me thanks to people like you coming to my aid.”

There were a few cases where customers were banned from the site due to harassment, where they would pull on your wings or fling your halo around. Those kinds of people were rare to come by, but your manager would happily deal with them by throwing them out to the streets.

“Don’t mention it, we are friends after all.” Aventurine waved you off, giving you a polite smile.

Friends.

You could only give Aventurine a smile of your own as your actions slowed.

-----

Some time had passed and the bar was nearing its closing time. Customers were long gone by now except for the blond gambler who lay slumped against the wooden counter. His gloved hand was propped up so he was supporting his head, his half-empty drink in the other. He looked a little rough.

With a concerned gaze, you put up the last chair and slowly walked over towards him. With a gentle shake, he stirred a little before his eyes met yours.

“Mr Aventurine?” You softly spoke, taking a step back to allow him some space. Aventurine rubbed at his face a bit, mumbling about something before returning his focus to you.

“Don’t call me that. S’too formal.” He grumbled, his brows furrowed. “Just call me Aven.”

Aventurine struggled to form a coherent sentence, his words were slurred together and he’d stumble over what he was saying. It was obvious that the man was drunk just by his speech and his request to call him a cute, little nickname. Seeing him behave this way made you feel a little warm but more so worried.

“Ah, ok… Er– Aven, we need to get you back to your hotel room. It’s getting late.” You took his finished glass and cleaned it, stacking it away with the other glasses on the shelves. Throughout the time you were cleaning, Aventurine just sat there and watched, eyes slowly blinking as he would occasionally sway from side to side.

After you had finished the last of your routine, you helped Aventurine stand from his seat, pushing the stool in with your foot. You struggled at first to get him past the door in the darkness, but eventually, the two of you made it outside. The cool night air made you shiver a little, but due to Aventurine’s body heat, it kept you warm throughout your walk.

“Aven..can you lead me to your hotel room?” You asked, eyes darting to his sluggish figure as he stumbled next to you.

“Mmno… I feel so dizzy…” Aventurine mumbled, leaning his head against your shoulder. His breath would fan against your wings, causing them to twitch in response which he’d giggled at. Sighing, you decided to direct him to your place instead as it seemed like he was a bit too drunk to remember his hotel room.

Fumbling with your door keys, you managed to get the door open with your free hand, nudging the door with your foot. Kicking off your shoes, you flipped on the light switch that way you didn’t trip over any furniture or items that could be lying around.

“We’re here. Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll go get you some water.” Aventurine flopped onto the living room couch, clutching a pillow close to him as he sank into the plush furniture. You could hear him mumbling about something, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water, you returned back to where he was and took a seat next to him.

“Here, you should drink some water, Aven.” You nudged the water towards him but he wouldn’t budge, turning you away. It took some time and effort but eventually, you were able to convince him to drink it.

It didn’t surprise you that he was dehydrated since he finished the entire glass, taking it from him and setting it aside.

“You feeling better?”

“...”

No response. You figured that he was tired and needed some sleep.

You moved to go get a blanket for him but a sudden weight pulled you back down onto the couch, trapping you. Shuffling around in a panic, you could see Aventurine’s blond strands in your peripheral vision, his hold tightening on you as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck near your wing.

“Aven! Are you–?” You were interrupted by a groan, his head burying further underneath your wing. You were afraid that your halo would poke him, so you angled yourself in a way that would be comfortable for the both of you.

“So warm…” He tiredly murmured, cradling you closer to him.

It was certainly unexpected but also a little inappropriate, you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea when he woke up. You tried wiggling your way out of his grasp but he wouldn’t move an inch, his hold only growing firmer around you.

“Stop moving around so much,” Aventurine grunted, cracking a single eye open as he peered down at you. You obeyed, but you were too flustered to even make eye contact with him so your wings had moved to guard your reddening face. You heard him make a sound of confusion, his arms moving to prod them away.

“Hey… Let me see your pretty face.” He huffed, finger tugging at your wings.

Pretty!?

Now you really didn’t want to make eye contact with him, your wings firmly remaining where they are.

“You need to get some rest, Aven. You’re drunk!” You protested, trying to swat his hands away. He pouted.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Aventurine…”

“No.”

“Aventurine!”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Fine, I will, but you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Wh–”

Aventurine kept you in place in a spooning position so that way you had no escape from him. His face had resumed nuzzling into your hair this time, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo with a satisfied hum.

Your face was burning red at this point, stuck between wanting to escape his hold to staying where you are and living in your rom-com fantasy. You chose the latter.

With a defeated sigh, you made yourself comfortable. It looks like you’ll be here for a while…

-----

It had started to rain throughout the night, following into the next morning. The rain pelted against the glass windows of your house relentlessly, the sound putting your mind at ease. The smell of a familiar expensive cologne clouded your senses, reminding you of a blond gambler as you were about to drift back to sleep.

Wait. A familiar expensive cologne. A blond gambler.

Wait…

Your eyes flew back open, darting around the living room as you tried to locate Aventurine. The sound of a toilet being flushed and a door creaking open snapped your attention towards the bathroom, heart pounding in your chest as the memories from last night flooded back. You heard slow footsteps coming from the hallway, a small yawn coming from Aventurine as his eyes met yours.

“Oh hey, you’re awake. How was your sleep?” He casually asked, flashing you a small smile.

You sat there stunned, eyes blinking at him as he chuckled at your expression.

“Well, judging by the way you were clinging to me and your refusal for me to get up… I’d say you had an amazing good night's rest.” Aventurine’s smile morphed into a smug smirk, plopping down right next to you.

“Y-you–”

“Ah bup bup,” he shushed you, “I have a clue as to what happened last night. With my coat neatly folded up, my footwear being set next to the couch, my–” “Nothing happened!”

You interrupted, some of your feathers popping off due to the heart attack this stupid blond man was giving you. They had moved to cover your heated cheeks, leaving you an opening to look at the shit-eating expression Aventurine had on his face. You wanted to punch him right then and there, but you wouldn’t.

“Ohoh why so flustered? If you’re this embarrassed, then I can assume–” “No! You just passed out drunk on the couch and you refused to let me go! I-I would never do such a thing with a customer! Let alone if they’re drunk!” You cried, waving your arms in front of you. Aventurine pouted at you.

“Oh? And here I thought that I was special– that I meant something to you.” He dramatically sighed, falling back against the couch with an arm across his face.. “It seems that I read too far into your actions, dear _____.”

Your heart fluttered, confusion etched into your features at his words.

“Special? Reading too far into my actions? What do you mean?” You nervously chuckled, fiddling with your fingers.

Aventurine lifted his arm so it no longer covered his face, his magenta and cyan eyes piercing through your own with a gaze so intense it made you shiver. “I thought that it was obvious, _____.”

“What? What are you–”

Within a blink of an eye, he was now much closer to you. His hands which were no longer covered by his gloves gently tilted your chin up so you could look at him, his free hand interlocking with your own. You could feel the heat radiating off from your own face and his, growing hotter by the minute. You felt like you were going to overheat.

“I adore you a lot, _____.”

Yup, you were definitely going to overheat.

All you could do was gawk at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggled to get a word out.

“I-I–” Aventurine laughed, letting you go but still keeping your fingers interlocked.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I already know the answer.” He hummed, pulling you up from your seat. “Now…”

“How about I take you out on a date? Consider it as an apology for having you take care of me all night.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

#writing➠#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #fluff #drunk! aventurine #halovian! reader #sober confessions #pining #longing

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tetsuskei · 1 year ago

Text

notes: repost from my old blog, based on an old post and brief convo w rei @/sir-kuroo. divider by the great remi @/cafekitsune <3

warnings: office au, self indulgent, reader is a few years younger than kuroo

“do you come here often?”

kuroo tetsurou, a colleague, slides up next to you in the breakroom. his personality is suave and carries an air of sharpness, yet warmth and comfort. he’s always gone out of his way to make those around him feel welcome, and you’re no short of that. if you could think of a household name for your company, it would be his. many speak of him but rarely do many actually see him.

you wonder what’s made him grace yourself with his presence—coincidence, or fate?

he grins boyishly, rocking his feet as he looks at you with the most shining (and pretty) hazel eyes.

you blink slowly, processing his words.

“um…i work here. we’re coworkers.” you answer slowly, nodding to your work badge before resuming your activity of making your daily coffee. your heart starts to race at being watched and you try not to spill anything.

you don’t blame kuroo for not knowing exactly who you are. you work in the art department while he does promotion. you’re like two ships sailing past each other in the night. you’ve crossed paths a few times during brainstorming sessions and kickoffs for projects, but you never fully interacted before. at least not directly. only short pleasantries have ever been shared between each other.

the man’s face pales, smile faltering as you unintentionally dismiss his—quite sad—attempt at getting with you. he quickly regains confidence, though.

you hear him laugh softly before he shifts his weight to his opposite foot. “well just as i thought. i guess that means we work together, huh?”

kuroo watches your nose crinkle cutely as you frown and then laugh nervously, “kuroo-san, i don’t mean to say this with any disrespect, but if you’re still confused, i can contact HR for you.” maybe because you’re new he doesn’t know you’re a full time employee. did he think you were a temp? a freelancer?

and as crushed as kuroo currently is, his heart flutters at the way you say his name. he doesn’t know how, but your obliviousness is endearing and wholesome. he only wishes to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, to make you see what he’s trying to say.

the reality is, he’s seen you around many times. only just now did he work up his own courage to start a full fledged conversation with you. you’re very cute. shy, he can tell. but that only makes him more intrigued and persistent in getting to know you. you remind him a lot of kenma, actually.

said best friend implied kuroo was being shy himself, but he’ll deny it to the grave. he’s too stubborn to take his advice on how to approach you.

and the result? an embarrassingly horrible joke he came up with due to word vomit. he didn’t expect to run into you, but by the grace of god, you’d been right where you are, and he did not want to miss this opportunity.

he rubs the back of his head. “ahh no. i don’t need that, but thanks. i appreciate it.” he says, ending his reply with your name.

your eyes widen in surprise. “you…know who i am?” you blink, tilting your head.

kuroo thinks he’s acquiring cute aggression.

he nods, “of course i do. i know the names of practically everyone here.”

“oh.” you say, deflating a little, hope dissolving from your heart. your fingers tap your mug in thought. “right. it was just that…it seemed like you didn’t know i worked here, so i was confused.”

he clears his throat, noticing your dejection, “no! i definitely do! sorry, i worded myself wrong earlier. i-it’s just that—never mind.” he runs a hand over his face, and you’re shocked to see how nervous he suddenly appears. he always seems so confident and sure of himself, you wonder what could be going on now.

“no worries or hard feelings.” you laugh, and his shoulder sag with relief. did you know your voice could be so calming?

the tall man exhales, releasing the rest of his nerves. “allow me to start over. hi, i’m kuroo tetsurou, i work in the promotion department.” he shakes your hand, “i’ve seen your work. it’s really impressive.”

you palm is clammy as you return the handshake and introduction, but the smell of his cologne makes you feel more at ease.

“it’s nice to formally meet you, kuroo-san. you work for the jva is nothing short of amazing.” you reply.

“oh,” he quickly becomes bashful, a humble smile on his face, “it was nothing, really.”

he changes the topic, “but enough about me. back to you. i’ve been meaning to tell you all of that for awhile, but never worked up the courage to. i really should have sooner, i appreciate all that you’ve done to make the jva as successful as it is.” he continues, smiling. he hopes and begs that you don’t see his cheeks turning red.

your expressions lifts again, and kuroo can’t help but notice the small dimple in your left cheek. “thank you! that’s very kind of you, kuroo-san! you didn’t have to thank me at all, i’m just doing my job.”

“that’s true, but you’re very talented. needed to at least acknowledge that.” he nods.

“i guess so! the last project did require a lot of late nights and hard work…” unbeknownst to yourself, you start to ramble about your process.

his perceptive nature looks over your features. he notes the way you hold yourself, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater–a pink one he’s always been able to identify you by. your eyes seem to travel when they hold contact with someone for too long. you purse your lips when you’re lost in thought. but when you’re comfortable, you use your hands to gesture, expressions surprisingly animated, which make you seem more animated than your usual reserved state.

noticing the way he stares at you, you quickly stop, feeling embarrassed.

“oh! i’m so sorry, i’ve been talking your ear off. you probably didn’t want to know all of that…i bet you’re busy anyways.” you say, bowing out of apology.

kuroo only shakes his head, “ah it’s not a problem at all! you’re truly mistaken! it’s nice listening to how you work. i don’t have a creative bone in my body, so it helps me to understand better. plus, you have a very nice voice.”

wide eyes blink up at him and another smile pops up on your face. you giggle, “thank you! you’re very kind!”

“no problem,” he steps back slightly, clearing his throat, “i know this is the first time we are really talking but…would you…like to get lunch sometime? to get to know each other better?”

you think about work and your connections. as a new employee this would be good for you, right? to build more healthy work relationships. the more people you can know, the better. especially across different departments.

a smile appears on your face and you nod. “why not? should we invite anyone else to join? i think—“

he laughs, shaking his head, “no sweetheart, just you and i.”

you’re stunned. “o-oh…”

“you can say no, i won’t be offended.” he assures.

panic resides in you and you frantically wave your hands. “it’s not that! i’d be more than happy to! i mean, i’ve been looking to get to know you better anyways!”

a hand flies to your mouth and your eyes widen once you realize what you just said.

“w-what i meant was…it’s better to get to know someone 1 on 1 anyways! yanno?” you correct, heart pounding out of your chest. you’re screwed. he’s going think you’re weird.

kuroo smirks, a small hum of appreciation escaping him as he nods, “right, of course. well, i’m glad to hear that. why don’t we exchange numbers ahead of time so we can talk details later?”

after typing each others numbers in, he notices you just entered your first name into his phone.

he softly says it out loud , and a weird, twisting feeling forms in your gut. a small part of you wishes he’d say it again.

“um…you can call me that if you want, but don’t feel pressured to.” you tell him. “i’m just not too big on formality.”

he shakes his head. “not a problem at all. it’s a very lovely name.”

“thanks, kuroo-san.” you beam.

“call me tetsurou. it’s only fair, right?” he winks, patting your shoulder. it shocks you how big his hand is, but you quickly peel your eyes away from it.

he steps back, pocketing his phone before looking at his watch. “well, i should be off now. but we’ll catch up later? i’d love to pick your brain about an upcoming idea.”

“s-sure!” you call, waving after him. “see you, tetsurou!”

he waves back, saying over his shoulder, “do me a favor, yeah?”

“what’s that?”

“remember it’s okay to be proud of your work. you worked hard, so own it.” he says, sending you a warm smile.

“right, i will!” you nod. your heart is full from his advice, and you cling onto his sentiment.

“‘tetsurou’, huh?” your coworker, kazuma, walks up besides you as soon as the rooster head is out of sight. “when did you start getting buddy buddy with the head to the promotion department?”

you raise a brow. “what do you mean? that’s the first time i’ve actually had a full conversation with him. i don’t know why i was so scared to! he’s a very nice guy!” you explain.

he laughs, nodding. “right, ‘nice guy’…”

you blink. “what? did he do something to someone?” you lean in, whispering, “did he like…beat someone up?”

kazuma rolls his eyes, sighing as he fixes his own coffee, “nothing of that sort. you’ll figure it out.”

before you can question him, he turns on his heel and leaves. you start after him, but he’s too fast for you so you give up.

“weird…” you mumble. you shrug before deciding as unfortunate as it is, you should get back to work.

throughout the entire duration of your walk back to your desk, you realize two things.

1, you left your coffee in the break room, and 2–

you notice that under the notes section of kuroo’s contact, he’s put, ‘prospective work husband’.

oh. shit.

that’s what it was.

kuroo was flirting with you the entire time.

reblogs and interactive appreciated!

#risu rites ⟡#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo oneshot #haikyu fluff #hq fluff #haikyu oneshot #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsurou fluff

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 1 year ago

Note

Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️

I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.

thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf

World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The lights were pretty at this time of night.

You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.

"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.

"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."

Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.

You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.

You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.

"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.

"It's going to clutter the house."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.

"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"

It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"Just read it, you asshole."

He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:

"World's Grumpiest Dad"

You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.

His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.

"...you're pregnant."

You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."

You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.

He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.

"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.

Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.

Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.

"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.

It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.

"That's just my face, you brat."

He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."

You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.

"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.

Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.

"Nothing."

He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.

"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."

You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.

The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.

There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.

"You're going to be a great dad."

Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.

He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.

"I know."

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off

#follower event #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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zvdvdlvr · 6 months ago

Text

Good Night

💤 Synopsis. Aaron knows you can’t sleep, so he offers his home to you. Just to help you sleep. Not to fall even deeper in love with you or anything- psh!

💤 Warnings. Not too descriptive vomit scene. Nightmares from previous case (nom descriptive). Crude language. Idiots in love. Possible OOC!Hotch. Not edited.

“Hey boss,” you greeted, sleepily letting the pen fall out of your hands and onto the table.

“Y/n. You need to sleep,” Hotch murmured sternly from across the table. “We’ve all noticed it. I know these last few cases were rough…” he went on keeping a low voice as to not wake the rest of the team. “But you need to take care of yourself.”

You shrugged pitifully. Truthfully, sleep avoided you like you and sleep were two positive magnets. It was getting harder to sleep now anyway. After a particularly rough patch in your life, you lost two little girls and a boy on a case. Now, you see them in your sleep as they beg for you to save them as they fade away to nothing in your consciousness. Emily tried to help, since you normally roomed with her on cases, but there wasn’t much you could do when the monsteres where in your head.

“I’ll try, Hotch. I just- I always feel… like I don’t… I don’t know.” You struggled for words, rubbing your eyes. “I feel trapped in my mind when I sleep. And- and I can’t get out: can’t fight it, can’t change it, can’t fix it.”

Hotch nodded. Your eyes were so so heavy and he knew you were trying your hardest to keep your composure. Hotch admired that. “Do you want to try something?”

You tolted your head at Aaron’s proposition. His tone changed to a high pitch, clearly apprehensive about the idead himself. “Sure.”

“Jack gets nightmares too,” Aaron started slowly, making sure you heard and processed every word. “After Hayley. I make sure when he wakes up that we go out to the kitchen and get a snack. Then he comes back to my room and stays with me under a weighted blanket I have. It- It helps me with my own sleep problems.”

Your lip twitched. “You’re trying to get me in your bed, aren’t you Agent Hotchner?”

Even though he heaved a massive sigh, Hotch smiled and shook his head. There you are. “If it gets you some quality sleep? Yes.”

“Well,” you murmured, leaning your head back on the seat. “I guess I’d be rude to decline.”

“Luckily for you we have about ten minutes till we land,” Aaron noted. He stood up and his knees popped. You chuckled and smiled up at him.

“Am… Do you want me drive separate?” You asked, bring Hotch’s attention back onto you.

His eyes took you in. Stretched out as far as you could on the cramped plane seat, frizzy baby hairs surrounded your tilted face- lit by the dim light like a halo- as you peered up at him with dark eyes and gleaming smile. “No need. Just make sure you have your go-bag. I can drop you off at home tomorrow morning and then take you to work. If you want,” he offered as coolly as he could, despite his racing heart.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good.”

Packing away your stuff and reports you needed to do the next morning, you felt warmth creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

You almost fell asleep on the ride to Aaron’s home. It wasn’t your fault the vehicle smelled like Hotch so good and the were heated! Not to mentions how soft the material was… When was leather this comfortable!?

“Y/n,” Aaron murmured, nudging you with a knuckle. You blinked awake and looked around, owlishly-wide eyes taking in everything.

“Sorry-“

Aaron chuckled. When did he have such a nice laugh? Jeez. “You’re here to get some sleep, hon- y/n. You don’t need to apologize for dozing off.”

Were you actually hallucinating or did Aaron Benjamin Hotchner almost call you ‘honey’? You felt your insides as well as your outsides warm, but Aaron turned away fast so you didn’t know if he was blushing too. “Yeah. I- yeah, of course,” you mumbled, opening the door and stepping out.

Aaron opened the door and led you inside. His home, unsurprisingly, smelled exactly like him and you felt like melting to a puddle on the floor. Here, in his house, you looked around.

Evidence of life was everywhere.

Jack’s toys were in a mildly organized pile in the corner, along with a few of his cartoon carachters on a blanket onthe couch. Aaron toed his shoes off and you mimicked his actions. You ventured further into his house, running your hand on the marble counter.

“I’ll get the bed ready for you. I don’t have my spare fixed up, so I apologize for any messes,” Aaron finally said, breaking off your staring contest with the picture magnets on his fridge.

“Hm? Oh, no Hotch I can sleep on the couch. I think just being here will help.”

Aaron had none of your protests, padding down the hall and turning on the light. “I have my weighted blanket here,” he explained. “There should be a nightlight…” he trailed off and spun around. “There.” He pointed at a plug-in nightlight of Captain America’s shield. “Do you… need clothes?” Aaron asked.

You nodded without even knowing if you had P.J.s. “Please, Hotch,” you said, a shy smile on your face. You really hoped Aaron wouldn’t mind giving up some of his clothes.

“Aaron. Call me Aaron when we aren’t at work.” His statement sounded more like a question- his voice got a little higher at the end. “Do you sleep in shorts or sweatpants?”

You shrugged. “Shorts are fine.”

Aaron hoped you didn’t see his flush as he handed you the only clean pair of black shorts he had, along with a ‘Relay for Life’ shirt.

Fingertips grazed your own as Aaron handed you the clothing. “Thank you. Aaron. But I seriously don’t want to take your bed. I’m going to be fine on the couch, so-“

“Y/n, do not make me order you,” Aaron joked sternly, wagging a finger at you.

Even as you stifled a laugh, Aaron made his way to the door. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. The bathroom is over there,” Aaron pointed to a door. “I… Don’t be afraid to wake me up, y/n. I’m here for you.”

You sighed and nodded, knowing that Aaron was going to win any argument against you. “Okay. Well, thank you again. I can make breakfast tomorrow to pay you back. Or just pay you. Whatever works,” you shrugged awkwardly.

“Completely unnecessary. I pay you. And you can pay me back by getting some good sleep so you can preform at your highest ability on the field,” Aaron explained. “Good night y/n. Sleep well.” The look in his eyes added the ‘I’m down the hall if you need me’ more than his words ever did.

It must have been three hours later when you woke up, clawing violently at your chest and forhead. You pushed the weighted blanket off of you and lurched forward, heading for the bathroom.

You keeled over and threw up stomach acid and whatever snacks you’d eaten previously. Tears ran down your face as you leaned your flaming forhead against the clammy skin of your forearm. Your stomach heaved and you whimpered, leaning forward and prepaed for another wave of vomit.

“Y/n?”

“‘M sorry, Aaron. G-go back to bed,” you ordered hoarsely.

Aaron padded forward and collected your hair, pulling it out of your face. “Do you think you got it all out yet?” He asked, tracing your clammy, tear-covered face as your eyes fluttered closed.

“I think so, but I don’ wanna move.”

Aaron cooed sympathetically at your pained whines. “Alright, honey.”

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about a thing, y/n,” Aaron said. You were leaning further and further into Aaron’s chest, searching for comfort. Despite the slight sheen of cold sweat on your forhead, Aaron barely withheld himself from pressing a feathery soft kiss to your temple and hoping you understood what it meant.

“Do you think you can get up now? Brush your teeth?” Aaron asked, your arms curling into your stomach. You opened your glazed eyes and nodded.

Aaron helped you stand up and tied your hair back with the black hair tie on your wrist. You flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet.

Leaning on the door, Aaron thought you looked as beautiful as ever even after throwing up minutes before. You looked so normal- domestic, even- as you rubbed sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. You looked so right in Aaron’s bathroom- Aaron’s home as you brushed your teeth and washed your hands and returned as close to Aaron as possible.

“Will you stay with me? I- I get it if you don’t want-“

“Of course.” Aaron worried if he answered too quickly, but you just gave him an exhausted smile and flipped off the bathroom light off.

He would probably walk off a cliff if you told him too, Aaron thought, following you back to his bedroom. His clothes even looked better in you. His boxers made your butt look like a goddamned snack.

You climbed into Aaron’s bed as if it was natural and opened the comforter so Aaron could too. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips as you pulled the weighted blanket up to your shoulders.

“Aaron?” You asked, snuggling up as close to his arm as you could without actually touching him.

“Y/n?”

“Can you- if it sounds dumb or stupid you, uh, obviously din’t have too- cuddle with me? Like, wrap your arms over my stomach? I- the pressure helps me relax…”

You trailed off, shrugging even though Aaron probably couldn’t see the movement in the dark.

”C’mere,” Aaron said, opening his arms. He felt his face grow warm as you took no time in slotting yourself perfectly into his arms. “This alright?”

As you requested, his ridiculously muscular arms were loosely squeezing your to him by your stomach. His mouth was up close to the shell of your ear, and Aaron swore he could see a shudder run down your spine after whispering.

“Yes. You- it’s perfect. Thank you.”

Aaron huffed a laugh. “You’re welcome, y/n. Sleep well.”

“I will. You too, Aaron.”

As you fell asleep, Aaron burried his nose into your neck and savored the moment.

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 7 months ago

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I really wanna do something where the reveal rift/post crisis stuff and the harunel serum coincide. With some witchery and Red Daughter thrown in for flavor. Its been percolating for a little bit, and since I'm trying to focus on the firefighter cop au, I'm going to word vomit some stuff here to get it out of my brain.

Basically, Lena and Kara have their falling out, and Kara leaves Lena to be a villain. Except Non Nocere doesn't happen and Lena just wants to get on top of her shit again. Like, Lex is a dick who doesn't deserve to be alive, so why would she just sit there and suffer his smarminess? She's not on his side, she's not on Supergirl's side-- she's on her own damn side.

Except Lex anticipates that, so he has Otis grab her and he sticks Lena in a Kaznian lab where they're experimenting with the harun-el serum, trying to see if they can use it to imbue humans with kryptonian powers without sacrificing control or turning them into monsters, right? It involves long and slow exposure, so they strap Lena down, stick her full of needles, and get to work.

But Red Daughter finds out, and though Lex gives her some bullshit about trying to help Lena, she doesn't quite buy into it. She can't bring herself to act directly against Lex, but she can't stand by while Lena is in agony.

So she goes to Mama Luthor.

Posing as Kara Danvers, she pointedly asks Lillian if she knows what Lex is doing, or what he has planned. She asks Lillian if she knows where her daughter is.

Which is how Lillian discovers that Lena is no longer in National City, and she tracks her children down to the Kaznian lab. She finds her way in and locates Lena-- and she is horrified by what she sees. Lena strapped to a table with a dozen needles puncturing into deep tissue, drugged and groggy and helpless. She's there when the next round of injections hits, and sees the agony as Lena screams and struggles against her bonds.

When the effects fade enough for Lena to go slack, Lillian immediately gets to work freeing her. She helps Lena off the table and supports her all the way back to helicopter she arrived in, shooting down any guard who tries to get in their way.

Lillian only knows one place Lena might be safe from Lex-- the Tower. The Superfriends open their pounding door to find Lillian standing there with Lena all but unconscious against her. Kara is of course horrified, and brings them in immediately. When she asks what happened, Lillian snaps "maybe you should tell me, Supergirl, as it was you who brought the situation to my attention."

Kara is utterly confused. "What? I haven't seen since before the end of the world" etc. Lillian glares at her.

"Well if it wasnt you, who was it?"

At that point, Red Daughter touches down on the balcony.

"It was me."

----

Once Red Daughter explains what she knows, they hunker down and wait for Lex. Its not long before a situation pulls them all from the Tower, and only when its over do they realize it was a ploy to get Lena alone.

They rush back to the Tower to find Lex's helicopter on the roof, and two goons already in the process of dragging a limp, hooded Lena to the waiting chopper while Lex oversees the operation from inside his Lexosuit. He is not at all surprised-- or concerned-- to see them.

He holds them all at bay while the helicopter takes off with Lena inside it. But as the aircraft rises higher into the sky, a strange pressure starts to build. Suddenly, a flash of purple heat vision slices through the helicopter from the inside out. It starts to spiral toward the ground, its crash inevitable.

"Go!" Kara shouts to Red Daughter, who zips over and manages to snatch Lena from the helicopter before it hits the ground. She lands with Lena cradled in her arms, except Lena is no longer limp-- no longer helpless.

Rising slowly, the odd pressure in the air continues to build as Lena opens her eyes to reveal her green eyes have gone completely black. Around her, every loose pebble, twig, and gravel on the roof starts to shake, humming with that same pressure. The detritus on the roof starts to lift into the air, hovering from thousands of invisible strings-- the strange energy charging the air is clearly coming from Lena.

She turns towards her brother, who has paused in his struggle against Supergirl to watch the pinnacle of his creation. It's strange, though-- matter manipulation wasn't a reported effect of the harun-el.

Just as he sees the moment of Kara's similar distraction for Lena, Lex turns and winds back to strike. The energy in the air seems to snap, and every bit of floating debris shoots straight towards Lex, with enough force to pierce skin and hull alike. It shreds the lexosuit to gaping, jagged metal-- but thats not enough.

The energy in the air starts to build again, but this time it's centered directly overtop Lex, pressing down and down until metal groans and rends, and Lex starts to heave for breath under the immense pressure.

That's when Kara comes back to herself. "Lena! Lena, stop!"

Lena doesn't seem to hear. All of her attention is on Lex, and when Kara edges closer, she sees that in the center of Lena's black eyes, purple irises glint expressionlessly in the sun.

"Lena, listen to me! I know you're in there! Please, you don't want to do this."

Kara moves to stand between Lena and her brother, intent on breaking Lena's intense eye contact with Lex, but Lena's head tilts to maintain it. Only then does Kara risk reaching out to touch her, turning Lena's face to look at her instead.

"I know you're in there," Kara says firmly. "And I need you to listen to me. Killing him might be the answer-- but it doesn't have to be *your* answer. This choice will destroy. It already almost did. So I am asking you, as my friend, to stop."

The last causes Lena to falter. She blinks, and Kara hears Lex gulp down a large breath as the pressure eases slightly. That's it.

"Yes," Kara coaxes. "Come on. Come back to us. Come back to me, Lena. Please."

Slowly, the black in Lena's eyes fade to their natural whites-- but the purple remains. Behind Kara she hears the Lexosuit clang uselessly againsy the roof as it collapses, Lex still trapped inside as he wheezes. Lena stares at Kara, blinking almost drunkenly in the sun.

"Kara..."

Kara issues a tearful laugh of relief, and throws her arms around Lena, hugging her close.

"Yes," she says, her chin wobbling. "I'm here, Lena."

Lena slowly lifts her arms to embrace her back, still dazed.

"Thank you," Kara murmurs. "Thank you for hearing me."

#supercorp #harunel meets red daughter meets rift meets witch #bc what would have happened if Lenas witchiness had interacted with the harunel serum #i have questions #i wanna explore this #just dunno when #im posting and then putting a reblog in my drafts to come back to later

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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago

Text

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 18 🍒

"I Wanted It To Be You"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 7,467

Summary: Moving on from Joel, your life takes many unexpected courses: college, marriage.. yet you keep wondering What If..?

(Warnings contain spoilers, so please check beneath the cut if you're curious)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (the difference is 17 years, and there are a few time skips throughout this chapter), starts in late 2003 and ends in 2023, Angst Angst Angst, brief mention of jailtime, breakup, parental issues, heavy on the mom guilt, underage drinking, dry humping, anonymous drunk sex (never ever do this, folks), vomit, reader going through a slutty era after getting her heart broken (just like Joel in Chapter 14), allusions to smut, time skips (labeled), panic attack, mention of drugs and alcohol, rough sex, creampie, surprise pregnancy, infidelity, lil bit of a makeout sesh with Tommy, semi-public sex, pussy pronouns, light degradation, Ellie is Joel's daughter, mention of cyberstalking (not as serious as it sounds), mention of reader having a therapist, Joel and Tess are married. If I left anything out, please LMK!

Author's Note: this took forever to write because the more I edited the more I wanted to add. And I know this chapter has quite a few time skips, I just wanted to highlight the important parts as much as I could. ALSO: I apologize for the unrealistically speedy law process at the beginning. I have no idea how that situation would pan out, but it would almost definitely drag out for months if not years.

So much angst here, but now the reader is all grown up! I wanted to add the convo with Sarah but this chapter was already getting so long, and I think it'll fit better in the next installment anyway.

Series Masterlist

"I would've said yes."

You've lost count of how many voicemails you leave Joel, who's been ignoring your calls, but this is the only time you say it, that you admit your love could have gone a different way if you'd just gotten back to that hotel room together.

You replay that night over and over in your head, but with different endings. In a perfect world, your father would never have even been there in the first place. In a separate, less perfect world, you would not have called out to him, just ignored him the way he ignored you. Then you'd have some peace of mind, and you'd belong with the man you love.

Each time you call Joel, you expect to hear his gruff voice on the other end of the line. And soon enough the ringing stops and goes straight to voicemail, where you leave him the words of your bleeding, broken heart:

"I would've said yes."

You haven't taken the ring out of its box, worried you'll jinx whatever luck you have left. Joel is supposed to kneel, take your hand in his, and place the ring on your finger. You've never envisioned what getting engaged would look like, but it definitely bears some semblance to tradition.

When Chris refused to press charges, the law stepped in and did it for him. Thirty days in the Bexar County Jail is what they sentenced Joel. That was why you couldn't reach him, why you felt like you were hitting a brick wall. It's a relief when you're finally able to speak to him.

"I'm so sorry," you cry to him over the phone, his voice like a warm and soothing balm. You imagine yourself curling into his embrace, allowing his arms to enfold you, make you small and safe, hidden from the dangers and ugliness of the world.

"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," he grunts.

"I love you." You sound pitiful over the phone but you don't care. "Joel, let me come see you and we can work it out. Please."

He sighs. "I got somethin' I need to tell you. Might change your mind how ya feel about me."

"What?" you ask quickly, your young mind scrambling to imagine what he could say, as if to fortify your already shattered heart. Your stomach sinks, nausea threatening to make the bile rise in your throat. "Joel, what is it?"

He's quiet for awhile and when he speaks it's monotone. "I've been seein' someone else."

It sounds like he's speaking a foreign language. You shake your head, looking at your wall calendar. It's only December. You last saw him in late September. The biblical manger scene on the church calendar your mom put on the fridge is an evil harbinger of time now lost.

"Who?" you ask, dreading the answer.

"Doesn't matter," he says gruffly, sounding uncomfortable.

"Tell me who," you insist.

With a deep sigh he relents. "Hailey."

Again, it's like hearing a foreign language. "Hailey? The girl I worked with? The one who went to Sarah's party? That Hailey?"

"Yeah."

"How.. how did this happen?"

"Ran into her at a bar my first night out of jail. I was lonely and she was.. she was there for me."

"What do you mean? Did you-" you take a moment to breathe, try not to let your emotions take over.

"I slept with her. That's all it is between us, just fuckin'."

It's like a punch in the gut. No, worse. It's a blade plunging into your heart over and over.

In a blur of upset and disappointment, you utter the words of anyone who's ever had a broken heart: "How could you do this to me?"

There's no answer for it from his side. His refusal to go into detail feels like he's hiding his fling with Hailey on purpose, withholding part of his new life to you, but you never stop to think he might be saving you from the pain he knows is due.

You cry after hanging up on him. You cry more than you did when he left you in San Antonio. You cry until you can no longer see because your eyes are puffy, nearly tiny slits that still somehow shed tears when you think of Joel with your ex-friend.

Once the sadness has been cried out, there remains only rage, simmering and profound. With small, practiced movements, you take the engagement ring in its box and mail it to Joel's address. No note, and no explanation needed.

"You're not yourself," your mom mentions one night when you push your plate away, your dinner barely touched.

"Not hungry," you mumble.

She sighs in exasperation. "I don't know what to do with you. You won't talk to me." She pushes her own plate away and downs the rest of her cheap wine. "You come home from God-knows-where, with a damn bruise on your face."

You touch your cheek where your father had accidentally knocked you backwards, wishing it was the only physical pain you endured from that night.

"..you don't bother with the chores anymore, you lock yourself away in your room, probably not even studying. Do you even attend classes anymore? Do you even care about your future?" she continues.

"No," you say quite simply.

"No??"

You shake your head and shrug, as if answering something as easy as 'do you want to watch a movie later?'

"I don't. Give. A shit."

Anita scoffs, refilling her glass. "Great. That's just great. Maybe I'll drink this entire bottle and give myself alcohol poisoning. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your shitty attitude anymore."

The scrape of your chair as you push away from the table is as loud as nails on a chalkboard. "You want me to talk? I'll talk." You lean forward, relishing this moment where your mom looks scared as shit.

"I said I was in College Station, but I lied. I was fucking Joel every weekend I was away. We met up in hotel rooms and fucked each other's brains out. And the best part of it all was that he loved me," your voice breaks but you're wickedly delighted by the look of shock and disgust on your mother's face.

You're on a tirade now that can't be stopped. "Two months ago I found Dad in San Antonio. I did," you nod, a psychotic kind of laughter breaking from you when she gawks. "And do you know what? He's forgotten all about us. He has a new family, new kids, new young wife. And he doesn't give a shit about you or me. He never really has, has he?" You realize you're standing, towering over her as you spit out all the venom she's ever poured into you right back at her.

"Now.. how does it feel to have the truth shoved in your face? To be deprived of the fantasy world you wanted so badly to live in, cushioned by your idiotic pretenses? Because I'll bet you could've gone your whole life not knowing, staying innocent. Well, Mother Dearest, fuck you."

Without a word you pack your things, your body moving way ahead of your brain, stuffing every necessary item into a couple of bags before you leave her house, with the intention to never return again.

Summer 2004 Louisiana

Staying with friends in a shitty apartment, you finish the rest of the semester before transferring to another school. Three schools in one year probably isn't a very good look on your transcript, but it's the first choice you make that is truly your own. Working two jobs over the summer you finally have the money you need to survive as you begin a new chapter in Louisiana.

You do everything in your power to get over Joel. The first step was deleting his number from your phone, even though you've already memorized it by heart. To be safe, you also delete Tommy's number, and Sarah's. It feels final, and a small part of you wishes they could get a notification informing them you no longer consider them important enough to keep, even as data.

It still stings when you think of Joel with Hailey. She's older, more experienced, and can probably do whatever he wants without being asked. After you've deleted the Millers from your contact list, you hover over Hailey's name, pressing it and, in a moment of antagonism, send her a text. I thought you were my friend, Turns out you're just a fucking slut Then you delete and block her number.

Dating other guys doesn't come very easy. It's as if they can smell the heartbreak on you, sense your loneliness and unease, the untempered anger simmering below the surface of your smile. You're a walking red flag and you know it, but that doesn't stop you.

You grind on a guy at a club after he buys you a few appletinis. Never mind that he's twenty five and trying to get you drunk so you'll fuck him. With your twenty-dollar Charlotte Russe dress hiked up as you drag your sopping panties over his clothed hardness, he sucks the apple flavor off your tongue, one hand gripping your hips while the other slips inside your underwear to rub your clit and you come for the first time in months. So loud, in fact, that you're caught and promptly kicked out of the club. When your partner (you never remember his name) asks to continue at his place, you decline, already walking to the next bar.

Once the high wears off, you are consumed with guilt as you think of Joel. What would he say if he found out? Would he even care? Maybe he's fucking Hailey right now.

And it hits you that it's already been a year since you first slept with him.

You pause in the middle of the street, coming back to earth when a car honks at you, cursing at you to hurry up and fucking move dumb bitch!

Walking on, you can't get the memory of the feel of Joel out of your head: the way his tongue licked into your mouth, fingers traveling down to play between your folds, telling you he needed you nice and wet before he fucked you, those thick fingers slipping in and playing you like a well tuned instrument, his lips gliding over your throat, resting just above your pulse point, then finding their way down the slope of your breasts, taking each nipple between his lips, his beard rasping against your skin.

You try to force the thought away, but it returns manifold. His mouth, the stiffened warmth of his tongue lapping at your cunt, drinking up every fucking drop and telling you you taste so sweet. He doesn't stop until you come more than once, finally fitting himself inside you, teasing you with the first few inches. Sure you can handle the rest, babygirl? before sliding in in one smooth thrust, joining you body and soul, moving against you just how you need.

You cover your face with your hands and wander into an alley, overcome with despair at the loss of your love, the loss of what innocence you thought you had. Both of those things given to someone who only saw fit to fuck you as he wished and discard when he couldn't handle the reality of your personal life.

"Are you okay?" a voice asks, approaching softly from behind. You turn and see a man, another college student like yourself, dressed in jeans and a striped button down. His features blur together until all you hear is his soft Southern accent and all you smell is his Curve cologne. The next thing you know you're kissing him, begging him to touch you, fuck you, and then he's spinning you to face the wall, dress hiked up, panties pulled down. Your arms support you against the wall as he pushes into you from behind and all you think about is him fucking the pain away, pumping into you hard and fast. He's nowhere near as big as Joel, but you've been so touch starved that the sounds coming out of your mouth are shameless.

Without warning you vomit, splashing your shoes and the wall in front of you with appletini puke, and the guy pulls out immediately, getting away from you as fast as he can, tucking himself back into his jeans.

You rest your forehead against the cool brick wall, spitting out the sour taste in your mouth as tears weep freely from your eyes.

September 2004

At the start of sophomore year you're the only one who doesn't have family come down to help move in, to visit with and take silly, memorable photos with. Nobody comes to your dorm and helps you decorate and put your belongings away. By the time your assigned roommate comes with her parents and little brother you're already set up, fresh sheets on your twin bed, your side already claimed.

You're reading when she comes in, a young girl, freshman, with hope in her eyes, excited to meet you, looking forward to her new life away from Montana or Missouri or wherever she says she's from. You're barely listening.

Who you do notice is her dad: mid-forties, slight beer belly, wearing a polo shirt and cargo pants with brand new New Balance shoes. You make eye contact immediately before he shifts his gaze away. His daughter, your new roommate Jessica, starts to unpack, asking you questions about the classes, what student groups to join. You offer what advice you can, stretching out on your bed in your tank top and running shorts. Her dad's eyes roam over your curves when his wife and kids aren't looking, and you unabashedly flirt back, making sure your shorts ride up, pulling down your tank just a little to expose more cleavage.

Once they leave for a quick tour around the campus you're back to your reading.

Jessica's dad comes back. Alone.

"I think I forgot my wallet in here," he says, giving a forced look of timidity as he checks his pockets.

"You didn't," you smirk, putting your book down and sitting up. "But you can stay if you want.."

He doesn't make an excuse about his family and you wouldn't care if they walked in anyway. Once the door is locked his hands are on your body, grabbing your ass while your hand goes down his pants. You tell him exactly what will make you come, and he does it so willingly it almost touches your heart.

Later as he's leaving and you're trying to get his cum off your bedsheets, he's asking you not to say anything to his daughter, as if you'd proudly exclaim that you fucked him, having barely remembered his name.

You're learning that a lot of men are the same at their very core.

You're a fantasy for the older ones, a college coed with daddy issues and an IUD. Having already been with an older man, you know just what they like, and when you give it you live for the way their eyes light up, and a little of their youth comes back to them for a moment.

It's almost pitiful how easy you figure out the opposite sex. Once you know what they want it's easy to become that, to dress how they want, to feign interest in the things they like, even to keep your thoughts to yourself. You learn to live inside your head, which until now has been the hardest thing to do.

But it's necessary when you're holding onto the headboard of some frat guy's bed while fake moaning as he's holding your hips, going as fast as he can because that's what they do in porn. Each and every guy has a Scarface poster above the bed, or Playboy centerfolds taped to the walls, neon lava lamps on the nightstand along with CDs by Kanye West, Franz Ferdinand, or Velvet Revolver. Your thoughts are elsewhere as you give halfhearted head.

You learn to feel nothing, not even pleasure, because they certainly can't tell that you fake every sigh and gasp.

But the older men, the professors, TA's, even men you meet off campus at the bars in town.. they are what interest you. It's not common for you to find yourself bent over a desk during your professor's office hours, or with your panties around your ankles when a one-on-one study session turns to something else.

You fuck men who remind you of Joel because you can't fuck Joel. It's his hands on you instead of theirs, his breath hot on your ear.. but no one else can fill the part of you that Joel hollowed out for himself when he made you his on a hot Texas summer night.

Though you think about him every day, soon enough, you start to wonder whether he was ever even real, or just someone you made up.

March 2006

Spring Break finds you at a beach house on the coast. The friends you came with are nowhere to be found, and you're pretty sure your drink is laced with something. The music is so loud that you hurry out into the night, seeking solace before the roaring waters of the gulf, black water topped with silver waves. Their rushing sound is soothing, yet you sink to your knees because your world is too heavy.

"I'm dying," you whisper to yourself, crying. Your chest feels tight. It's so hard to breathe, and it feels like your heart will explode.

Only one person on the entire planet comes to mind, and after all this time you still remember his number. You dial it, fingers savoring the press of each button on your phone. How many times have you called Joel and hung up before he could answer? There have been a couple of times when you dialed him while having sex, not sure if he ever picked up, hoping that he heard you moving on and moving away from him. That'll show him.

But you can't even breathe to talk to him. And what if he doesn't answer? What if he's changed his number?

You leave all his numbers entered on the screen but you don't hit the call button. Not yet. You have to think of something to say. Tell him you love him before your body rejects the air it's trying so desperately to claim into your lungs.

"Hey, are you all right?" a gentle voice asks behind you, and a hand is on your shoulder.

You flashback to that night in the alley, the guy who took advantage of you, but this time it doesn't go that way.

A man with soulful eyes and a kind smile kneels next to you, his hand remaining on your shoulder. "I think you're having a panic attack. Can I help you with that?" His voice is as kind and gentle as he looks, and you nod.

"Can you breathe for me? Like this." He inhales deeply and slowly, and when you try it it feels so foreign but you manage it.

"There you go," he says quietly. "Now breathe out.."

Soon he has your breathing back to normal, and you don't have to force your body to do what it naturally does.

"Tell me five things you can see," he continues.

A shaky breath in. Hey, at least it's a breath. "Um.. the water.. the sand.. the moon.. you.."

That's when you get your first good look at him, beyond the smile that works its warmth into your heart, and the eyes that search yours, exuding humanity that you haven't experienced in a long time. He's really cute. You can't deny that your heart skips a couple of beats.

"One more thing?" he says, his voice soft.

You snap back to reality. "Uh.. a ship.. out there in the distance?"

He glances behind him at the water, seeing the great big liner, possibly a cruise ship, on the inky horizon, and takes a seat next to you. "How are you feeling now?" he asks.

"Good.. I think. Better." You nod. "Thank you."

"May I?" he lifts your hand from your lap and turns the palm up, his fingers poised above your pulse point. You nod again.

He presses his touch to your wrist, and you watch his eyes calculating, his lips silently moving while counting. Despite everything you've been through the past two years, this is the most intimate thing you've felt.

"Your pulse is normal." He gently places your hand back on your lap. "Do you want to go back to the party or do you want to stay out here a little longer? If you want to go back," he adds, "I'll be with you, make sure you're okay."

You opt to stay on the beach, embracing the quiet for a little longer. This is the first time a man has had you alone and hasn't tried to fuck you. It's nice, for once.

Towards the end of the night he leads you back to the party house, guiding you through the throng of people there, the air rife with alcohol and the pungent aroma of weed. You're holding his hand, you realize as you walk together. He's your lifeline in this very moment. You grab your jacket and purse from one of the bedrooms, passing by couples making out, some slipping into rooms to do much more than kissing. To think you could have easily ended up there with a random guy makes your skin crawl.

"What was your name again?" you shout to him over the music.

"Justin!"

"Dustin?"

"Justin!"

You both laugh. You tell him your name and of course he mishears you.

He drives you to the small motel room you're sharing with your friends who are inevitably crashing at the beach house, too drugged or drunk or fucked to return for the night.

Justin smiles at you as the engine idles. "Is it okay if I ask you out?"

You exchange numbers, your heart thrumming with a pleasant nervousness. You haven't had a boyfriend since..

..not since Joel.

Don't think about him.

"You can reach out to me if you ever just feel like talking," he says. "I'm here."

So you do, and after a week of texting and a couple of late night calls and getting to know each other, you go for a date for the first time in three years.

Justin picks you up in a Honda Civic, and as you get comfy in the passenger seat you breathe in the scent of the black ice air freshener and his spearmint gum. The radio blasts Smashing Pumpkins at a level you know is too much but it only adds to the excitement of the evening.

He's a year older than you, native to Louisiana, and on leave from the Army.

Living just a half hour from your campus, you start to spend much of your time together. Movie dates, dinner dates, and dates where you just drive around, talking about nothing and everything.

You only sleep with him three months into your relationship, desiring to take things slow for once, to know him better than you have ever known anyone.

It's nice. It's like what you see in the movies, two people wrapped up in each other, soft, no words needed. For once your head isn't forced down into the pillow, or your pussy spit on. For once it's just normal, and normal feels so good.

June 2008 New Orleans, LA

Bourbon Street is alive, electric, no matter that it's a Sunday night. People will drift into work tomorrow still drunk on Zombies and Hurricanes. The entire street reeks of piss, but people either don't care or have been here long enough that it no longer harasses their senses. But more often than not, people are having too much of a good time to care.

You're behind the bar at little hole-in-the-wall place, slinging daiquiris and kamikaze shots when you hear a familiar voice and a tap on your shoulder. "Hey there, Cherry."

You turn and your eyes go wide. "Tommy!" You reach over the bar to hug him, nearly spilling a beer on him in the process. "It's been ages! How are you?

He looks older, more mature, even though it's only been five years since you last saw him: he's letting his facial hair grow, but his eyes still sparkle with mirth and kindness. "It's good to see you, girl." He's no longer with Sofia, their romance having ended a few years before, on friendly terms or so your cousin claimed. You always blamed yourself for the demise of their relationship, believing that your breakup with Joel cast a shadow over her own connection with Tommy.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

"We're good, just here in town, expanding the business."

"We?" Your hands start to shake, and you put away the bottle of gin you have your grasp on. Your heart starts to pound before the next words even leave his mouth.

"Yeah, me and Joel are lettin' off a little steam, wanted to toss back a few before we go back to the hotel."

You feel his eyes on you before you're even aware that he's here. Looking up, at a small table near the entrance, is Joel Miller. Your heart stops, and you don't know how it is you're still alive. He looks you up and down, appraising every feature and detail about you, and you wonder if you've changed in five years or not. You wonder if he still loves or hates you.

"...and we thought this was that bar where girls dance and pour tequila down guys' throats, but this is just as good 'cause you're here."

Tommy manages to snap you out of your trance. "Oh.. you mean Coyote Ugly.."

"Yeah, they opened one in Austin a couple years back but this one ain't never wanna go nowhere," he motions back with his head to Joel.

You return your gaze to the older brother but he's no longer looking at you, his glance dotting along the crowd, following a younger woman as she saunters up to him, smiling, flirting. Your stomach turns and you force a smile at Tommy.

"Whatever you want is on me."

Tommy's smile and laughter is infectious. "You sure about that, Cherry?"

"I'm sure," you say, pouring out a shot for yourself. "You know, nobody's called me that in a long time."

"What's that?" he catches a bright sparkle on your left hand, and quickly takes it within his own. "Cherry, you didn't tell me you were engaged!"

Joel must have one ear straining to listen because Tommy's outburst got his attention right away and he swivels his head to look at you.

"Yeah.. he's a nice guy." That's how you describe Justin to everyone: he's a nice guy. He'd proposed last year after your one year dating anniversary. "He's in the Army, they're shipping him out a week after our wedding. And I'm going with him."

"He's a good guy if he's an Army man," Tommy approves, just as Joel approaches, the woman he was talking to now gone. "So? Are we invited to the weddin'?"

You can't tell if he's teasing or not, and Joel's poker face gives zero indication as well. "I already sent out save-the-dates, but if you'd like to come I won't object. The more the merrier." For the first time you see Joel up close and your heart stutters, an irregular beat that you'd gotten used to in the aftermath of your disastrous breakup.

He's still so fucking handsome: the dark brown of his hair fading to what you can already see as gray, with gray patches in his beard. There are more lines around his eyes. There's still that jolt of electricity when your gazes meet.

"You happy?" he asks, his countenance giving nothing away of his true feelings, so it's difficult to gage whether he's legitimately asking, or simply being nice.

"I'm happy." But it sounds forced, like taking the pliers to your own mouth to fix your own abscess.

Joel only nods as you pour a couple whiskeys for them. "To Cherry getting married!" Tommy beams his salute and the three of you down the shots quickly.

It's sometime after your shift, and you're in the parking lot with Tommy, his arms around you as he presses you to the side of his truck. Or maybe it's Joel's truck. You don't know and you don't care, all you want is to feel something again. The nearness of Joel all night has rewired your brain, and as Tommy deepens the kiss, you're disappointed that it's not Joel's taste, not Joel's scent that surrounds you. Luckily he's not a bad kisser, and his hands roam everywhere you want them to be.

Better the wrong Miller than no Miller at all, your whiskey-soaked brain tells you.

"Always thought you were pretty," he whispers, hands palming your breasts over your shirt. "But you were Joel's from the moment he set eyes on ya, told me so himself. Leave that one alone, she ain't for you.'"

"He didn't want me enough.." your voice cracks as tears spill effortlessly down your cheeks.

"Don't cry," he says gently. "I don't got any tissues with me." He uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. "Still want me to give you a ride home?"

You nod, telling him you need to make a quick trip to the ladies' room to fix your makeup, and in the narrow hallway where the restrooms are hidden from the rest of the bar, you run into Joel.

"Sorry," you mumble, trying to get around him, but he puts his large hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"You gonna take my brother home and fuck him? Then marry some Army jackass?" he says as in disbelief.

You put your guard up, tougher now than you were five years ago. "What I do is my business. By the way, how's Hailey?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb." You push past him and start for the women's room to fix your makeup when Joel stops you again.

"You ain't gonna fuck my brother tonight, or any other night, babygirl," he utters.

There's a fire lit under you now. "Oh? What are you, the Morality Police? Fuck off."

"Fuck me," he says. "You know you want to. You're probably wet from Tommy, and I appreciate his gettin' ya ready for me, but I notice the subtler signs: your eyes are glistenin', you've been lickin' your lips every time you look at me, and you probably haven't noticed, but your nipples are pokin' right through your shirt. I bet they're just beggin' for attention, huh?"

He says all this while just standing in front of you, not crowding you like any other guy would. And you realize he's not even trying to rile you up. He's giving you a choice.

"What makes you think I want you? I have a good man who loves me. He's all I need."

"Needs and wants are different, babygirl. Once you're married you're stuck with him til' death. Hope you realize that."

"I'm aware." But it's already hit you: you'll be with Nice Justin for the rest of your life. You'll be a Nice Wife and maintain a Nice Home for the inevitable Nice Kids you'll have. You hate Joel for putting this thought in your head.

"He fuck you like I did?" he asks in an intimate tone.

You shake your head, already pulling him into the restroom with you. "Joel, no one's ever fucked me like you did."

Your body delights in the quick, sweet reunion with him. It's as if time has never separated you, as if both your hearts are whole again. His mouth greedily devours your kisses. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, the latter a bad habit. You're shoved into one of the stalls, fumbling with the lock while Joel's hands find their way across your body, one under your shirt, palming your breast, the other going into your jeans, expertly finding your soaked panties, crooking his fingers into your cunt.

Your back is pressed against his broad chest, his cock already hard inside his jeans, rubbing furiously against your lower back until he bends you forward to press against your ass, finally pulling your jeans and panties down in one go.

Too much time has passed for you to be gentle or even careful. He presses you to the stall door, nothing but heat and raw need between you. Words not needed, your only communication grunts and whispered curses that echo against the tiles of the cramped space.

"You ain't takin' no slow and gentle with me, sugar. i ain't got the patience for that right now." He nudges against you and it's a wonder you don't burn up with all the fire that inflames you. After so long it's a labor of love to fit him again, but as his fingers add pressure to your clit you get wetter, opening for him as easily as you did years ago.

"There she is," he says. "Been waitin' for me, been needin' a real man to fill ya up, ain't ya, babygirl?" he huffs in your ear, breath warm against your skin. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes.." your voice comes out in a hiss, your brain only thinking about his cock, the way it stuffs you, the only thing that completes you.

"That's what I thought. These lil' college boys don't know what to do with such a tight, pretty pussy. And neither does your fiance." He hikes one of your legs up, tucking your knee under his arm, keeping you nice and open, watching himself slide in and out of your weeping slit, slamming himself against you as he sinks his thumb into your puckered asshole, eliciting an all-but muffled gasp from you. "I know you called me just so I could listen to them fuckin' ya.. I know you never came with them, not once. This pussy is mine, has been from the very start."

You're no longer a virginal high school grad, and he takes what he wants from you, giving you what he knows you need.

The door opens but he doesn't stop, just quiets his own noises and clamps his hand over your mouth to squelch your sounds. The stall door jiggles and you put your hand over it until the person grumbles and walks away, muttering about having to piss. When they're gone Joel pumps into you relentlessly, chasing his pleasure and yours. He knows by now what will make you come, which combination of touches and kisses make your knees weak and your clit stand at attention.

"Fucking come for me, you little slut," he whispers, his tone almost loving if you didn't know better, and when you let go the pleasure is almost painful. Years of need and pent-up longing are released as your cunt squeezes around his rigid cock, milking him, smiling when you feel the warm spurt of his come as he presses deep at your cervix.

"That's my girl," he says proudly, your come spilling out already, lining his dick with a mix of both of you. "She's wrecked, split wide open like she's meant to be.. gonna send you back to your man drippin' with my come, used up like a good lil' whore."

His words add a sweet sting to the pleasure that has yet to ebb, resounding through your veins like thunder that takes its time in rolling away from the storm. Whore.. well, he's not wrong.

When your heavy breathing has subsided, you feel him start to slip out of you and you put your hand back on his thigh, a silent gesture to hold off.

"Missed you.. needed you," you mutter, tears of joy and relief and heartache brim in your eyes, until you allow the pleasure of the moment to take over without thought or feeling.

"I know.." he says softly, slipping out of you, careful as you're still sensitive.

That could have been the end. You could have gone your separate ways, but you're drawn to each other, and that doesn't go away easily. When you emerge from the rear entrance of the bar, Tommy looks up, and you can tell he expected that you'd end up with Joel instead. He simply nods as you pass him, walking with Joel to the tiny apartment you share with Justin, who's out of town visiting family. And as you and Joel spend the rest of the night locked in each other's embrace, you realize you don't care if he walks in on you, kicks you out, breaks off the engagement. You're with Joel and nothing else matters.

By dawn you wake up to find that he's gone, leaving only the scent of him on the pillow next to you. No note, no explanation, no goodbye. And once again you're sure you only dreamed up Joel Miller, used him as a mental escape for the life you were tying yourself down to.

It's very atypical for you to forgo a period, even at your most stressed, you can count on seeing that bright red stain on the toilet paper around the middle of every month. And when, by mid-July, you haven't even spotted, the first thing you do is take a pregnancy test.

All the men before have been careful, or you've been fortunate enough not to have a scare. But when you finally force yourself to look at the the little blue plus sign developing on the test strip, you realize this is no scare.

You're pregnant with Joel's baby.

The wedding takes place as expected, and your heart sinks when you walk down the aisle, seeing the joy on Justin's face. You've told him the baby is his, and he doesn't doubt it for a moment, that's how much he loves you. But for a fleeting moment you want so bad for it to be Joel at the altar instead.

The ceremony goes by in a blur, as everyone warned you it would. Group pictures are taken, the videographer is capturing the moments that photos alone can't encapsulate.

"Over here, honey!" photographer gets your attention. You barely hear him as you watch a figure walking out, one of the last guests to leave the church. From behind he looks like Joel, but you can't quite tell, and when your eyes fully focus, he's gone, and your own vision can't be trusted.

Tommy gave his regrets that he couldn't attend, and Joel simply never RSVP'd. But in your heart you know it was him, you know he had to come and see for himself that you're moving on, growing up and growing away from him. The only tether you have to him is the baby growing in your belly.

"Front and center, Mrs. Williams," Justin smirks, giving your cheek a soft kiss. "One more picture then we're onto the reception."

March 2009

Your daughter is born in the springtime, a loud and howling child from the moment she leaves you. The only time she's quiet is when she's in your arms.

"We need to decide on a name," Justin says, a little miffed that his daughter cries when he holds her despite his best efforts to soothe her.

"I told you, I like Ophelia," you say, gathering her into your arms to feed her.

"It's such a prissy name. And I can already tell she's not gonna be prissy."

"Then what do you suggest?" you ask tiredly. He doesn't seem to understand you've gone through labor for twenty four hours, only thinking of himself.

"Eleanor, after my mother."

You groan. "I always hated that name."

"Please, babe. It'll make her so happy to have her granddaughter as her namesake."

"Fine. Fine. But her middle name is Ophelia."

"Deal." Justin smiles as he fills out the paperwork.

"Eleanor.." you tell your baby. "But I'm going to call you Ellie."

Your mother once told you that when you become a parent, your life is not your own anymore. She said it as a kind of warning, a prophecy yet to be fulfilled when you were just a pre-teen, rolling your eyes at her warning you away from all kinds of danger.

You never expected she'd be right. Every waking moment holds more weight than ever before. Ellie is completely dependent on you, even as she grows and becomes more independent. It's you she looks to for validation when she does something right, and you she looks to when she knows she's in trouble.

She's smart as a whip, quick with a comeback and well versed in anything she can get her hands on. She excels in sports too-- individually, at first. As she gets older you notice a little bit of a mean streak in her. While she craves friends and wants to be part of a team, she has trouble making connections sometimes.

You have to wonder if part of that comes from Joel, his stubbornness and his lone wolf tendencies. Has he unknowingly passed down the most insecure parts of himself to his daughter? Sorry, his secondborn daughter?

Now there's literal proof of Joel Miller as a person, in human form, and she's trudging upstairs with her field hockey equipment and slamming her bedroom door.

Between the years of 2004 and 2008 you could almost convince yourself that he didn't exist, that he was a figment of your runaway imagination, born of a father complex and attachment issues. You work on yourself in therapy, feeling small as you divulge the innermost secrets of your heart and the intrusive thoughts, even going so far as to reveal that you've looked for Joel on social media, now that everyone has a profile.

Born of an intrusive thought, you type his name into the search bar on Facebook. Getting quite a few findings of those with the same name, you narrow the search. Joel Miller, Austin Texas His company logo comes up as its own page, and you notice it's changed, probably Tommy's idea as Joel never liked change.

Searching further you find his picture. There it is: Joel Miller, Boston Massachusetts

Huh?

You click on his profile while your heart thumps strongly within your ribcage. You wish you could let it out, set it free.

There he is, looking older than the last time you saw him, the grey more prominent in his hair, looking serious in his selfie. Even though it's just a selfie, a random moment in time, you can't help blushing, as if he's looking at you through the screen, appraising your own measure of aging. You wonder what you were doing that exact moment he took the picture.

But your hunger for knowledge needs to be fed, and scrolling down you swear you misread it at first.

Relationship status: Married

There's a roaring in your ears as your mouse hovers over the name next to those words: Tess Servopoulos

From there you check out her profile, see that she's from Detroit, five years younger than Joel. While his profile pic is only of himself, hers shows them together, on a hiking trail somewhere, Joel's arms around her from behind.

You slam the laptop shut, your blood buzzing in your veins. You feel distractingly alive, the heartache spreading through every muscle and nerve ending. Your past is brought to full fucking focus.

Against your better judgment you open the screen again and search through Tess's photos, specifically the ones of Joel. Most of the comments are from a couple of guys named Bill and Frank, who after some digging you come to find are married, and friends with Joel and Tess. You hit the jackpot when you find a video she uploaded, a fifteen-second clip of Joel holding a baby. Your heart stops when you realize the baby isn't his but Sarah's, and he's now a grandfather.

It feels like you're spying on them. You know so much about them by now, and the one glaring omission is children. They don't seem to have any.

Going back to Joel's profile, you hover the mouse dangerously over the Add Friend button. When you click it, it's the strongest rush you've felt in ages.

Weeks later, he hasn't accepted it. The sparkle of your anticipation is dulled, and with a heavy heart you click to cancel the request.

A couple years down the road you get a notification from Facebook Messenger while you're watching Narcos.

Message Request. Sarah Miller Hey! It's been forever! How are you?

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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next chapter ->

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #ao3 fanfic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #pedro boys #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu

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caplanbuckybarnes · 2 months ago

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CheaterCheaterBestFriendEater

Summary: After you'd gotten drunk with Tony one night when Steve was away on a mission, you never expected to be heartbroken I the morning.

Warnings: cheating, an abortion (not descriptive, just a brief mention of one), cheater!reader, pisse!steve (honestly, he should have been way more raged lol)

Word Count: 879

@saiilorstars sent in a GIF for a drabble. I'm going to do the Bucky one as well. Sorry, it's late, LOL.

Read on Ao3!

---

You knew from the look in his eyes that he was pissed. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see that. You’d accidentally sent a text message to him that was meant entirely for someone else. Which, in retrospect, shouldn’t have been a problem. Expect that the text message revealed that you were pregnant.

And it couldn’t have been Steve’s.

He had been on a mission with the Avengers and Guardians, tracking down half-devoured worlds to help restore them. He had been gone for over two months when you texted him this revealing information.

You felt lonely. You felt depressed. You were alone in the compound with Tony and Bucky. All it took was one lonely and drunk night to find yourself waltzing into Tony’s room first and seducing him, to promise that you wouldn’t tell a soul about your little escapades that night. But little had you known of the consequences. You could have sworn you took your birth control pill that morning.

But as you looked at the tablet, the day’s previous one was still sealed shut. You waited several days before texting Tony while he ran errands with Bucky before letting him know. But of course, you had clicked on Steve’s pinned message on your phone without thinking before typing the message:

How the fuck am I supposed to fucking tell Steve, who is my goddamn BOYFRIEND, that I slept with one of his best friends and got pregnant? What the actual fuck, Tony?

It was with horror that you realised you’d sent the message to the wrong pinned message. You knew Steve would be arriving home shortly, so you’d been waiting for him on the house porch the four of you shared for bonding.

As he approached you, you stood up, swallowing the vomit that wanted to splatter all over the ground in front of you. “Do you have something you need to get off your chest, Y/N?”

“I’m glad to see you back, Steve,” you smiled at him shyly, not knowing what he was thinking. You always hated it when he was angered. He almost almost shut down his emotions when he was enraged.

“Is Tony here? Bucky?” He asked, looking past you into the open door, down the house's hallway.

“They’re out getting dinner for all of us,” you swallowed the vomit down once again. You wished he’d just \look\ at you, for fuck’s sake. “Steve, I-”

“Save it,” he demanded, staring at you with pure disgust. “I’ll talk with Tony and see what he says, and I swear to god, if this was a mutual event, you’re not going to like the person I become.” Before you could say a single word in reply, he stormed past you, almost knocking into your shoulder as he leapt up the stairs in one motion.

Later that night, you stayed in the bed you shared with Steve, glancing at his empty side every few seconds. He and Tony had gone on a car ride hours earlier, leaving you and Bucky alone in the house. You knew you had fucked up. You knew you were in the wrong. You only hoped that Steve wouldn’t hurt Tony in the process.

Unable to sleep, even hours later, you finally decided to leave the bed and roam into the kitchen downstairs, only to find Tony sitting at the table with an empty beer bottle cradled in between his clasped hands.

“Tony?” you spoke, causing him to lift his head and stare at you. “Where’s Steve?”

“Out in the back chopping wood, I think,” he answered, surprisingly sober. “I told him you promised me you’d abort the damn thing. It was the only way to save both of our asses. It was a drunken mistake, and it never should have happened.”

“Tony-”

“I’m calling T’challa in the morning to see about transporting you to Wakanda for a few days. Steve had the idea, not me, so don’t yell at me over it. I suggest you go pack about a week’s worth of clothes.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Tony,” you made to go to the back door before Tony stood up to block your way. “He needs sleep, Tony, and so do you and me. I can’t let him keep doing this.”

“Why not?” he replied. "We need the wood for the fireplace anyway. He didn’t kill me, so I think we’re both winning in this situation. Now go pack. I'll have Bucky drive you to the airport in the morning. Shuri will be picking you up from there."

There was no use in arguing with the man. Upstairs, you went to grab a large bag from your closet before going into the closet again and grabbing several outfits for the time you'll be staying in Wakanda.

You stayed in Wakanda for almost two months before Steve finally reached out to you with apologies and a desire to return home. He'd said he was deeply upset at your mistrust and still loved you. All you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms again.

Another few days passed before you were woken up from your sleep to see Steve standing before your bed, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

"It's time to go home, Y/N."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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ruewrote · 5 months ago

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𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔.

PAIRING: minho x fem!reader WARNINGS: f2l, a little bit of angst GENRE: fluff / angst SONG INSPIRATION: bad habit by steve lacy WORD COUNT: 970 REQUESTED: yes

navigation | ask

it was strange, strange how time had gone by so quickly. how it had now been two nearly three years since safe haven was formed.

at first minho was closed off, unsure of what your intentions were with the group…with him, but it took no time at all for him to warm up to you. he soon realised that you were one of the main sources of him feeling so safe and comforted, from that moment on he knew that home wasn’t just a place, but it could also be a person.

you were close friends, well for the most part you were, but there was always some sort of pull you felt whenever you were around each other. the not so subtle touches, longing glances, the playful flirting didn’t exactly help.

as much as you loved your time together, you were struggling to conceal your feelings, the more time you spent with him you were worried it was going to come out like word vomit. so you distanced yourself. you had to!

the changes that were made weren’t immediate, there was no difference in how often you’d hang out with newt. besides minho he was what you considered your best friend in safe haven.

you still did your chores with him, but tried to limit the talk to as little as possible. feeling your heart ache each time he frowned at your lack of communication.

it was worst for you at night, when all you had was the sound of light snoring and your loud thoughts, wondering if this was really worth it? what would happen if you did just tell him?

the next day, you were weaving pine baskets with newt and thomas, smiling down at your lap as you listened to their banter, it was nice to be able to hear them laugh so freely as your fingers skillfully repeated the pattern.

looking back up and around at your surroundings, your eyes fell on minho the muscles in his arms bulged as he carried two full nets of fish to the kitchen, he was completely unaware of your gawking, the two beside you not so much. “you’re going to be able to catch flies at this rate,” the voice from beside you chuckled.

turning back to them, “shut up.” you mumble under your breath. “i'm your best friend so you know when i say this i mean it out of love. once you get your head out of your ass you'll realise that he likes you just as much as you like him.”

you shrug at that, “but what if he doesn't? then i make a complete idiot of myself and lose him in the process!”

thomas speaks up from beside him, “with all of this bullshit going on in the world, there’s a lot to lose. so don’t waste the time that you do have worrying and take a leap of faith.”

it was annoying when he was right. of course he was.

that simple sentence had your brain in shambles for the rest of the day, trying to think of the right way to tell him, when you should, how you should.

the day was now done, everyone was either sitting around the fireplace or getting ready for bed, exhausted from the day's work. but not you, no. you were sitting on the sand of the beach staring at the waves.

there was nothing more peaceful than listening to the sound of the water and feeling the cool breeze blow over you, so wrapped up in your own mind you didn't hear the footsteps walking up behind you.

“hi,” you hear spoken softly from your right, opening your eyes to be met with minho.

“hi.” a smile danced over your lips as you turned back to watch the waves overlap one another. a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. until he speaks again. “i've missed this,”

“i've missed you.”

taking in a deep breath before hesitantly resting your head against his shoulder, feeling him tense up then completely melt into your touch. “i've missed you more.”

“nope, not possible.” he whispers, “minho…i can’t pretend anymore.”

“what are you talking about?” he asks, you pull away just enough to be face to face with him, “i’m..i’m in love with you.” you timidly confess.

“all this time i think i was bound to fall in love with you. it was only a matter of when and where.” you looked away embarrassed that you had finally told him how you felt and for him to just sit there looking at you was all too much.

too scared to look back at him you get up to leave, “i'm sorry if this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but it’s how i feel and i wouldn’t be able to live with myself, if i didn’t tell you so i'm gonna go–” you were cut off by being pulled back down into his lap.

“ya know if you gave me more than five seconds to reply maybe, just maybe you’ll find out that i’m deeply in love with you too and have ever since we first got to safe haven.”

“oh!” you giggle as you look up at him, “well if i like you and you like me what does that mmph!” capturing his lips with your own with so much force making him fall backwards onto the sand, making you both burst out laughing.

“let’s try that again.” you whisper before brushing your lips against his, his hands trailing up from your thighs to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you sigh into the kiss.

“so this means that you like like me then?” you joke as you kiss down his neck.

he leans into your touch, “i guess you could say that.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

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starlordsandrockets · 9 months ago

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One Bad Party

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+

word count: 6k

summary: After being broken up with at a house party, you return back to the compound at 3am to find Peter waiting for you.

a/n: Heyyy sorry I've been playing Baldur's Gate to escape my writers block. But here you go, feedback is appreciated bc I feel like this fic fell flat a bit??? Idk lol

There was only one question that kept crossing Peter’s mind whenever he saw you sneaking out of the compound to see your boyfriend: Were you sleeping with the guy?

Peter had no right to be this jealous. It was not like he had a chance with you. Peter tried, but he could barely hold a conversation with you without withdrawing into himself. He became a stuttering mess and before long he would find himself retiring, far too embarrassed to stay in the same room as you.

Peter looked up from his textbook. He was sitting in his dim room, studying at his desk. Or at least, he was attempting to study. The only thing running through his mind was the outfit you were wearing as you left the compound.

Your bare leg flashed past your large black coat as you brushed off a comment from Tony. A black satin slip could be made out, hugging your curves as you wrapped the coat’s fabric around you, wishing to hide yourself from Tony’s judging gaze.

The thought of you was pushed out of Peter’s brain as he pushed out his chair, rising to his feet. He needed to clear his head for a bit.

Peter found himself staring into the kitchen’s large fridge, eyes scanning his options without a single processing thought. He wondered if you were coming home tonight. Not that it mattered, it was not like there was anyone special to come home to. Reaching out, Peter grabbed a cold, glass bottle. Studying the label he shrugged before opening the beer. The cold glass pressed against his warm skin as he took a sip.

The alcohol could never affect his senses, unless he were to make sure of it, but he still liked the taste of beer. He winced after his next sip, second guessing himself. Glancing at the time, it was almost three in the morning and Peter found himself praying for your arrival to the compound. Clearly, he needed some air to push his clouded thoughts of you out of his head. Right?

“Friday,” Peter spoke quietly with his drink in hand.

“Yes Peter?”

“I’m going outside,” He informed the system.

“Of course, Peter. It is currently 40 degrees. I would recommend a jacket,”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, hand finding a hoodie that he managed to leave in the lounge last night. How Tony had not thrown it on the ground in front of his bedroom door already was a surprise.

Opening the door, the cold air hit him, making him shiver slightly.

Peter remembered what you had on when you left, and he only hoped you were inside somewhere nice and warm. Placing his bottle down on the tiny porch’s only step, he took an awkward seat on the cold stone. He rubbed his hands together, now wishing he had made a warm cup of coffee instead. Placing the bottle against his lips, he tilted his head back. He studied the stars as he took a few large sips of beer.

“What are you Tony’s guard dog?” Your voice rang through his ears, taking him off guard. You watched him begin to choke slightly, “‘Cause you’re shit at it,”

“N-No,” His single word was separated by a heavy cough, “I couldn’t sleep,” Peter knew half a beer was not affecting him, but somehow he was feeling a little confident, “and I noticed you weren’t back yet so-”

“So you’re up playing parent?” You studied where he was spread on the step, blocking your way to the door. Sure, you could go around him, but you already stumbled your way up the compound’s extremely long driveway.

“No- I just- it’s so cold and I was remembering what you were wearing when you left and I-” Peter rambled below you.

“Please give me a break. I heard enough from Tony before I left and I sure as hell don’t want to hear it again, especially from you,” You shot back. Your words were almost flowing like vomit, slurring and sloshing out of your quivering lips.

“No- No I- Y/N,” Peter shook his head. Moving his hands, he attempted to stand up, however his arm knocked against his bottle. The glass fell against the stone, shattering almost instantly. Staring at it, he almost laughed at how it reflected the conversation that hung in the frigid air.

“You’re in my way and I’m cold, so please,” Your gaze fell to your pointy heels as you wrapped your coat’s fabric around you tightly. Closing your eyes you did not want to see Peter stumbling before you in response to your hurtful tone. However, you also did not want him to see the tears that were forming in your eyes, “goodnight,” You muttered, pushing the heavy door open.

“Y/N,” Peter called after you. He watched as you attempted to outrun him, however your imbalance twisted your ankles in your heels, “Hey-” He called out, reaching out, he steadied you as you began to crumble.

Inhaling, your stuffy nose played audibly, directing Peter’s gaze, “No,” You spoke defensively, “No- I’m not- it’s not. Peter,”

“What did he do?” Peter studied your face, “Your makeup- Before you left, you did that little thing you started doing,” He motioned to your eyes, “the little flick. And now it’s gone and your mascara is smudged under there-”

“Peter…” You stared back at him, confused as to why Peter would pay so much attention to you, if any at that. He was Spider-Man and you were Tony’s assistant who just got to live here because it was more convenient for the billionaire.

“No, because did he do something?” Peter questioned. His voice cracked slightly, making him clear his throat.

“Why do you care?” You questioned back, not sure where the question came from. Well, you knew because that is exactly what you were thinking. But, you were unsure as to why you were so blunt. Maybe you were still a little buzzed.

Peter’s hold on you loosened as the question passed through your lips. He could not confess to you, not now. He had thought of so many ways to tell you how he felt, and this was not one of them.

He studied your appearance. Your makeup was a ghost of the painted picture it was hours before, and your posture was folded in on itself, as if you wished the dark compound to swallow you and allow you to hide away, “Because I knew he’d do something,”

“Y-You,” You stuttered, “don’t even know his name,” Peter’s brown gaze was serious, and it was a look you had never seen him wear. You were never around for important missions, just to make small talk to him at the coffee maker or Tony’s stupid little lounge parties.

“Don’t have to,” Peter spoke, “if he treated you any better I feel like you would’ve mentioned him to someone. To Nat when you guys share your coffee in the morning or Mr. Stark would bring him up during his parties to embarrass you… or to annoy me,”

You did not address his last claim. You just wanted to go to your room and cry, “I’m just… I’m a private person,” You shrugged, not meeting Peter’s gaze any longer. You heard him laugh slightly, a short exhale passing through his lips, “what?”

“I just- My body doesn’t let me get drunk so you wouldn’t believe how much I know about everyone from Mr. Stark’s dumb parties,” He watched as you met his eyes once again, “Y-You,” He paused, your gaze stirring up butterflies, “You say a lot when you’re drunk,”

“Like what?” You pried, watching Peter smile slightly.

“That’s how I found out,” Peter spoke, “Mr. Stark-” He paused, remembering the night Tony had tried so hard to get the two of you together after finding out Peter’s crush on you, “he suggested spin the bottle,” He heard you scoff, “Yeah well, that’s when you refused to play because you ‘met a guy’ and it was ‘kind of serious’,”

“So,” You spoke, “We were,” The word slipped as your gaze froze.

“...Were?” Peter questioned.

“Peter,” You shook your head.

“What do you mean?” Peter pushed.

“Peter, I’m tired,”

“Did he break up with you?”

“It’s like 3am and I want to get this fucking dress and heels off,” You spoke over him, watching him freeze in front of you.

He could help you with that, “Sorry,” Peter spoke, “You don’t have to tell me,” Peter wanted to slip that dress off of you.

“It’s not,” You sighed, feeling guilty as if you kicked a puppy, “It’s not like we talk. You know? When’s the last time we had a conversation like this?” You watched as Peter’s posture straightened in front of you, but in reality it felt like he was about to crumble from your piercing words.

“Right…” Peter spoke, knowing when to take a hint. “Sorry,” He stepped aside, allowing you to claw at the straps of your heels. It felt as if he was letting you slip right through his fingers. Sure, he did not want to be a rebound but at this point, he did not want you to think he had no intention of ever speaking to you, “It’s not that I haven’t tried,”

“What?” You questioned, planting a bare foot on the ground. The heel hung loosely in your grasp as you stared back at him.

“I try to talk to you- A lot actually… but,” Peter specified, “I’m just not great at it- I mean, I’m not even good at it,”

You paused, as awkward silence fell after Peter’s words, “Okay,” You smiled slightly, “Well, maybe we can talk in the morning? Over breakfast? If I’m not hungover,”

“Right,” Peter smiled in defeat, “Sure,” He watched as you pressed your lips in an awkward smile, the lipstick that was once there was now faded. You slipped the other shoe off your foot before turning towards the hallway. You made your way a few steps down the hall to the elevator doors, leaving Peter to stare right at you from where you left him, “It’s because I like you,” He spoke, surely low enough.

The elevator dinged but you did not walk inside it, not yet. You were at a standstill, your brain processing Peter’s quiet confession. Staring into the bright elevator, you watched as the doors began to slowly close. How could Peter like you when you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you? Why would anyone like you?

“You’re-” You mumbled, “You’re fucking with me,” Turning, you dared to meet Peter’s far off gaze, “Stop fucking with me,”

“W-What?” Peter stuttered, watching you walk closer to him.

“You’re Spider-Man,” You informed, watching his head tilt slightly out of confusion.

“...Yeah? Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?” Peter questioned, his eyes trailed all over your body, forgetting that you could see his every move.

“Why would you…” You wrapped your coat around you in response to Peter’s gaze, “I’m just Tony’s assistant,” You stopped in your tracks, not able to get any closer to Peter.

“Why would I?-” His question fell short as he realized you had heard his quiet confession, “Oh,” Peter watched you nod shyly, “Don’t… don’t you want to get out of your clothes?”

“What?” You questioned, feeling your face heat up out of embarrassment.

“No- No! God, I just-” Peter stammered, “You said you wanted to change- I thought you could do that and maybe like, take off your makeup and then we could talk. Or, or we could do that in the morning- if you’re not hungover,” He repeated your earlier claim.

“Yeah… yeah,” You spoke, “I’ll go- I’ll go change,” You nodded, lips pressed together, “but, could you help me? These heels killed my feet,”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, “Yeah, of course,” He was hesitant, hands reaching out. Peter hand touched you before, when he caught steadied you moments before, but now it felt different. Now you know, “Here,” Peter took in a quick breath before he slipped your large coat off of your skin. You almost looked nude, the dress under your coat was small compared to the coat’s large exterior. He folded the fabric before he tucked it under his arm, “and I can carry those,” He reached out towards your shoes that hung off of your curled finger.

“Thanks,” You smiled to yourself. However, your smile soon faded to a blank expression as you felt Peter’s fingertips on the small of your back. His hand soon flattened and you swore you could feel his sweaty palm through your thin dress.

***

The two of you silently made your way through an awkward elevator ride and stumbled your way to your room. Peter opened the door, watching you slip past him and into the dark room. You let out a loud sigh of relief after Peter shut the door behind him, “What?” He almost laughed.

“Feels good to be home,” You replied, “That party was a fucking nightmare,” You smiled, your lips quivered as you felt tears threaten to spill, “I didn’t want to go. I shouldn’t have,”

“Y/N,” Peter said, approaching you, he gathered a handful of your dress’s fabric, “Remember what I said,” The tone of his voice drew your attention. You never heard that slightly dominant tone pass through his lips before, “We can talk after. Okay?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, lips pressed nervously, “Right,” He began to hike up the fabric, the cool fabric tickling your thighs, “Peter,”

He had started helping you without a second thought. Peter was completely lost in you, functioning on autopilot. Your words brought him back to reality, “Sorry- I,” He turned, facing the wall, “I’m sorry- I forgot I was done helping. I got you here,”

You slipped the dress over your hips and past your chest, “Yeah,” You broke the silence, “but,” That word made Peter turn his head in time to check a glance of your exposed skin. The dress’s fabric covered your face as you slowly slipped it over your head.

Could you see him staring? Peter took in the sight of your underwear and push-up bra for another second before turning his head back to the wall. His face must have been red. He felt his cheeks begin to grow warm. Peter also felt something else begin to grow and he hoped it was not noticeable.

“Could you help me?” You continued, now slipping a long, black night shirt over your skin. You wished you had anything else to wear to bed, anything sexier than an oversized shirt.

“Help with what?” Peter questioned, back still facing you. He watched as your room lit up a bit brighter from switching on the bathroom light.

“My makeup,” You almost groaned, “I’m too tireddd,” You placed your arms on the counter’s cool surface. Looking at your reflection you were reminded of the night you just had. Your mascara pooled under your lash line but you were still surprised Peter had noticed, “Peter,” You called out, hands covering your face, smudging your makeup even further.

Peter entered your small bathroom, taking in the space he had never seen before, “What’s up?” He watched as you blindly dug through one of your drawers. A pack of makeup wipes appeared in front of him as you leaned further onto the counter, a tired groan vibrating past your lips, “Okaaay,” Peter laughed, “Come’re then,” He took the pack, setting it down before he reached out. Turning you around, you faced him now. Your eyes were still closed from when you were rubbing your tired eyes, “Just one?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, finally opening your eyes. That is when you realized how close Peter was. You studied his hands as he peeled open the makeup wipes. His fingers were long and slender, making something in you stir. You focused on his fingers moving around the cloth in his large hands.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, taking hold of your face with his free hand, “I have to see your face to take the makeup off,” He laughed. The smile quickly faded as he studied your face in his hold, a look of embarrassment flooded his face. Peter realized not only how close he was to you, but was reminded just how pretty you were. Nervousness traveled up his spine, making him shiver slightly, “Right,” He spoke, clearing his throat as you stared back up at him.

His touch was gentle as he replaced his hand with the makeup wipe, making you jump, “cold,” you muttered, nervous at Peter’s closeness.

“Sorry,” Peter replied, rubbing the makeup off of your skin.

“Don’t look too close,” You laughed, “I’m not that pretty up close,” You chose your words wisely, not wanting Peter to think you were baiting for a compliment.

But that was exactly what was running through Peter’s head. Peter was trying to find the right words to say so he did not seem like he was as obsessed with you as he was, “I think you’re pretty,” Was all he managed to admit, watching your gaze snap right to his loving brown gaze, “I mean… I can move- if you think I’m too close,”

“You think I’m pretty?” You mentally kicked yourself as the cliche question slipped past your lips.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. Pretty was an understatement, “You’re probably the prettiest girl I know,” He tested the water.

“Nat and Wanda live here,” You spoke, “So I think you’re lying,”

“Nah,” Peter focused on your eyes, “Close your eyes,” He instructed, watching you do as you were told. He felt as if he should use this to his advantage, that way you could not affect him with your gaze, “I thought that since the day you got here. Plus, Nat and Wanda kind of scare me,” He watched you smile slightly.

“I don’t scare you?” You questioned, feeling his breath on your skin, making your lips press closed.

“A little, but in a good way,” He admitted.

“Yeah?” You laughed to yourself, eyes still closed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Peter did not answer, he was far too embarrassed and lost in the thought of you. The ‘good way’ was that it turned him on, “There,” He finally spoke as he studied your cleaned face.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You spoke, however your words fell short as Peter dragged the makeup wipe across your mouth.

“Sorry- Missed a spot,” He teased, watching you stick out your tongue at the bitter taste of the wipe.

You made your way to the sink, washing your face with cold water. Peter stood silently behind you, studying you through the mirror. Or you assumed so, not daring to meet his brown gaze.

“Sooooooo… you want to talk about it now?” He finally questioned as you dried your face off on a soft towel.

“About the party?” You questioned, hanging up the towel, “Or… about what you said? Earlier,”

Peter’s head fell, studying his fingers that intertwined, absentmindedly, “W-Whatever… whichever you want to first,”

Walking out of the small bathroom, you placed a finger on its light switch. You stared at Peter, waiting for him to follow you, “Yeah… whichever,” However, Peter did not budge, “That party…” You started, “that paaarty was… the worst night of my life,” You laughed before switching off the light. Walking over to your bed, you fell back onto it. However, you regretted it, feeling the alcohol move around in your stomach as your head spun, “...fuck. I’m so fucking stupid,”

“You’re not,” Peter interrupted.

Raising your head, you stared at him for a moment before your gaze returned to the ceiling, “I knew he was talking to someone else. I mean, I suspected it. Turning the phone away when I was too close. Locking it as soon as I entered the room. The lying… I could tell by the mannerisms, by his facial tics,” You groaned, “But you know… ‘he was different’... I was just into him because he barely gave me the time of day unless we were fucking,”

Those words clicked in Peter’s head.

You were fucking that guy.

“The one time I mentioned him to Tony and he read him like a book and I just… God, I just didn’t want Tony to be right,” You somewhat laughed, “Because I hate it when he’s right,”

“You deserve so much better than that guy,” Peter spoke.

“What? I should be glad he fucking cheated on me? Glad that I showed up to the party, only to find him grinding on her ass and she was wearing the same fucking thing I was wearing?”

“Y/N,”

“What?” You heard the pity in his voice, “I don’t need you to feel bad for me-”

“I’m not- I just can’t believe anyone would do that to you. It pisses me off because if I ever had a chance with you I would never take advantage of it,” Peter admitted, “You’re way out of my league- and I bet you were for him too- and god if I ever fucked up like him I think I’d be the biggest idiot,” You stared back at him, a small smile sat on your lips, “...What?”

“You… actually do like me?” You questioned.

“Well… yeah,” Peter replied, red-faced, “I’m- I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out yet. I feel like I’m so obvious. Literally everyone here knows it,”

“I had no clue,” You almost laughed.

“Really?”

You both felt the mood shift, as Peter sat at the end of your bed, “Yeah… I don’t know. We hardly talked and when we do you always end up leaving… you know,” You rambled, staring at the ceiling, “I always thought I scared you or something, you know, because I just… don’t know how to talk to people really. Everyone I meet always goes off to tell someone they think I’m stuck up- Or if I don’t talk I’m a bitch,”

“I like hearing you talk,” Peter spoke, absentmindedly. Your eyes fell on him as he looked down at you, “You- You’re… interesting and really cool,”

“Y-Yeah?” You laughed somewhat at his awkwardness, “Well… thanks. You too- I mean, you’re cool…too,”

“I-I’m… not cool, like at all,” Peter looked surprised, “I’m super awkward and I like the dumbest stuff,”

“It's not dumb,” You picked up your head, “You’ll convince me to finish Star Wars one day,” You watched a grin curl his lips, “Really. I like it when you talk about stuff you like. I really like it,” You watched Peter’s hand move towards your face. His fingers brushed back some hair that sat out of place, “...My ex- Well he was always too cool to like anything. You know- one of those guys. He was too cool for everything…”

“How about we don’t talk about him anymore” Peter spoke. He stared at you, wanting to touch you. So he tested the water, running his fingers through your hair.

“Mhm,” You hummed in response, eyes closing with each pet of your head. Your eyes felt heavy as your body reminded you that it was probably around four in the morning.

“Do you want me to leave?” Peter questioned, catching a glimpse of your closing eyes, “so you can sleep,”

“No,” You admitted, “I want you to stay and keep touching my hair,” You heard Peter laugh from above you.

“Fine, but I need you to get on the bed more,” He stood up, waiting for you to position yourself on the bed from where you happened to just flop over.

You slowly got adjusted under the covers as you watched Peter walk towards your bathroom, “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again as you waited for him to return. You heard the light switch off as you felt your heart begin to beat faster at the idea of Peter sharing a bed with you, “You don’t mind staying, right? Is it weird?”

“No… I mean- do you think it’s weird?” He questioned, standing at the side of your bed.

“No,”

“Yeah… it’s fine then,” Peter almost held his breath as he entered your covers. He could hear your heart racing next to him, however it was almost overpowered with the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

Peter laid on his back as he felt you shifting by his side. He did not dare look your way, eyes fixated on the ceiling of your room as his eyes adjusted to the dark room.

“Goodnight,” You whispered from your spot next to him, feeling Peter’s body jump slightly from your quiet voice breaking the heavy silence, “sorry,”

“N-Night,” Peter replied, hearing you laugh to yourself from behind the sheets.

***

You stirred, as light from the room’s large windows broke your slumber. Your head was pounding as you tried to recall last night. That is when you remembered that the arm that was wrapped around you was Peter’s and not your ex’s.

Peter’s arm laid across your hip as you laid on your side, eyes staring at the wall, attempting to process what exactly unfolded last night.

You were not drunk. You remember every moment, but every moment felt like a dream.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Peter’s sleeping face.

Your gaze traveled across his soft skin, eyes bouncing from freckle to freckle. His lashes fluttered, looking as if he was still experiencing a dream.

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his side. You felt Peter pull you closer to him while he slept, “P-Pete,” You whispered, afraid of your morning breath.

“mmm,” Peter groaned as you shook him slightly, by his waist. You watched as he eventually stirred awake, “H..hey,” He spoke quietly, eyes barely open, “How’d you sleep?”

“Not as good as you,” You joked, as his hold on you tightened. Peter still drifted in and out of his sleeping state, “Since… you know. You’re all cuddled up next to me,”

“Hm?” He questioned, eyes finally opening, “Oh- Sorry,”

“It’s- It’s fine,” Your hand took hold of his shirt before he could attempt to move away from you. You stared at his face, his brown gaze refusing to meet your eyes. Every thought that bounced around your head told you to kiss him, hell, every cell in your body was inching towards him; grasp on the fabric pulling your bodies closer.

For a moment your gaze fell to his lips before your lashes fluttered shut, lips pressing against Peter’s for a forceful kiss.

Taken aback, Peter’s eyes widened before they squeezed shut as he attempted to hold back the lust that began to flood through him, “Hey- he- hmm,” Peter hummed against your lips as your kiss smothered any word that attempted to leave. He kissed you back, hands traveling underneath the hem of your shirt’s large fabric.

His sweaty palms traced your curves, studying you even behind closed eyes. Peter felt himself begin to be swept away, worried he would not be able to resurface. Pushing you away by your hip, he attempted to pull out from your hungry kiss, “Hey… Y/N,” Peter watched as your mood shifted almost instantly, looking as if your heart had shattered all over again from the night before, “No- no, it’s just- Y/N I won’t be able to stop,” Peter attempted to explain, “Y/N, I want you… I think about it more than I’d like to admit and it always ends up with me not being able to help myself…”

“I want you… Peter,” You thought for a moment, “I need you,”

“I don’t want to hurt you like he did… or worse,” Peter thought about his strength.

“You won’t. I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” You sat up, watching Peter roll onto his back. Picking up a leg, you swung it over his own, straddling his waist. You were never this forward, but you were always this desperate.

You always had feelings for Peter, you just never thought someone like him would reciprocate.

With that thought, you felt Peter’s hands grasp the plush skin of your thighs, “You- You’re sure?”

“Please,” You breathed out before Peter flipped you on the bed, pushing your face into one of the bed’s plush pillows. You felt as he hiked up the fabric of your shirt, exposing your panties to him. His dominant palm rubbed circles on the side of your ass before you heard him take a deep breath.

This time, it was time for you to take in a breath as Peter began to pull the fabric of your panties down.

You would be lying if you said you were not self continuous about Peter seeing your body for the first time in such an intimate way. The entirety of your last relationship had you on edge, hoping you were good enough.

Suddenly, the bunching fabric halted, making your breath stop as well, “Relax,” You heard Peter speak. Bending over your back, Peter planted a kiss on your ear, making you shutter.

“I- I just… he really messed me up I think,” You laughed to yourself, “so. So I don’t think you could ever hurt me more than him,” As the claim left your lips, Peter flipped you back onto your back, “Pete-” You heard the tearing of fabric as Peter, literally, ripped your panties off your legs.

He shifted down on your bed, ignoring your claims to the torn fabric. Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as he grew closer to what was hidden behind the silky fabric. Placing his hands on your knees, he spread your locked legs, “Hey,” He watched as you locked eyes with him and that is when he felt a switch flip in him, “I don’t want to hear you talk about him anymore,” Your wide eyes stared back at him, “Okay?”

You nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,”

“Okay…” You mustered the courage.

“Okay? Okay what?” Peter’s fingers trailed along your skin. Closer and closer to your wet folds. His touch circled you almost teasingly.

“I won’t talk about him anymore,” You answered.

“Good,” Peter almost smiled, but there was a newfound cockiness behind his words. His thumb brushed against your clit, “Why shouldn’t you?”

“What?” You almost whimpered, wanting the teasing to end.

“Why shouldn’t you talk about him anymore?”

“I… I don’t know,” You spoke with frustration. However, Peter’s gaze made you think about giving a better answer, “Because… because I deserve better?”

“Is that a question?”

“No…” You whined as Peter gently thumbed your clit, however it was not enough, “Peter please,”

“Fine,” Peter smiled at your desperation. Lowering himself, he placed your legs over his shoulders. He took in the sight before him, fingers running through your wet folds, “You’re so wet... You like it when I tease you or something?”

“...No- it makes me mad,” You spoke, unfiltered, not wanting to focus on the fact that Peter was seeing your flaws so up close.

“I don’t know, I think you like it,” He spoke, inserting his index finger into you, watching you wither in front of him, “So pretty,” Peter spoke under his breath. He listened as you attempted to hold back a few quiet moans, “You sound so pretty… wanna hear you,” Curling his fingers, he hit you at a different angle, making your eyes roll, head rolling back into your pillow, “Yeah?” He almost laughed, “Right there?”

You nodded, knowing if you parted your lips, you would not be able to shut up. However, Peter had other plans, his fingers moving in and out of you even faster. “FFffuckk,” You moaned, eyes screwed shut, “Pete-” His name was cut short, interrupted by a louder moan as Peter’s lips found your clit. He gave it a wet kiss before his tongue explored you.

Your ex never did this, and if he ever did, the foreplay lasted only long enough to make sure you were wet for him. Mentally, you kicked yourself, finding your brain occupied by your ex even though Peter just told you to not talk about him, “Are you thinking about him?” You heard Peter ask like clockwork.

“W-What?” You stuttered, opening your eyes. Looking down, you meet Peter’s dominant gaze.

“You stopped moaning,” Peter spoke, “Your eyebrows are all… furrowed- and not in a sexy way,” He added an extra finger into you, hearing you moan at the action, “I can stop- If you’re not over him I’d rather stop than you think about him the whole time,”

“No- No… Sorry,” You breathed out, “I- I know you told me not to talk about him but- I… I was just thinking about how he never… he never did this,” You rambled as Peter’s fingers still pumped in and out of you slowly, “fffuck- and- and I just-”

“Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time,” Peter somewhat joked before his lips returned to your clit. He placed a wet kiss between your legs before he continued to pleasure you.

“Please,” You breathed out, almost relieved. You were relieved that you no longer had to beg for anything you deserved, because Peter was ready to give it to you instantly.

A shaking moan passed through your lips as Peter inserted a finger into you. He was slow at first, taking in your small, breathless moans; however he found his hunger for you growing.

He continued to work you with his mouth and finger, before inserting another digit. Pulling away from your heated skin, Peter spoke, “I wanna hear you say my name,” He breathed out.

“W-What?” You stuttered through your waves of pleasure.

“Wanna hear you say my name,” Peter repeated, “And I never want to hear you say his again,”

“Mm,” You groaned at his dominance.

“What was that?” Peter questioned, slowing his fingers that pumped in and out of you. It pained him to do so, he wanted to please you desperately, but he also wanted to prove his point.

“Yes,” You breathed out, “...please,”

“Please?” Peter questioned.

“Pleaseee,” You drew out, mustering the courage to speak his name in such an intimate setting, “Peter,”

“Good,” Peter’s lips curled into a subtle, cocky smile. His fingers found their previous pace before pumping even faster.

“Ff-fuck,” You moaned. You heard Peter hum in response, as if he was questioning you, “Peter,” You repeated his name. With that his smiling lips return to your clit, his tongue only increasing your pleasure, “I- I’m so close,”

“Need you to cum for me,” Peter spoke quickly before returning between your legs. He found a rhythm that made you a stuttering mess, and stuck with it.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” You moaned, hand falling between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his soft, brown locks. Your hips jutted, meeting his tongue halfway with each thrust. You felt as if you were losing your mind, not sure when the last time you experienced this much pleasure was, “Fuck Peter- I’m-” Your words fell short as you came. Your eyes screwed shut as Peter continued to taste you. Waves of pleasure jutted through you, making your body twitch with each stroke from Peter’s tongue, “f-f fuck- too… too much,” You breathed out, hands trying to push Peter’s face away from you.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, crawling up your body. He fell to his side, laying next to you on the bed, “How was that?” He watched your chest rise and fall as you attempted to catch your breath.

Small laughter fell from your parted lips as you realized just how long it was taking you to recover from the pleasure, “I… I haven’t felt like that in… well, in a long time,”

“And that’s a good thing? It was good?” Peter questioned, hoping that his attempt would make you forget all about your ex.

“No- Yeah,” You breathed, “I haven’t cum that hard in awhile,” You added, “Just… just give me a minute and we can keep going,”

“Keep going?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re probably really hard,” You spoke, “or… I hope you are,”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “I am. But we can stop,”

“Why?” Your head turned towards him from where you stared at the ceiling, “Do you not want me anymore?”

“What? No- I mean. I want you,” Peter spoke, “I really want you- but I. I want to take things slow… with you,” He studied your worried expression, “If that’s okay,”

“Oh… yeah,” You nodded, “I just. I thought you’d want me to return the favor,”

“Another time,” Peter spoke, “I’ll be waiting- but no rush,” He watched you laugh to yourself.

Peter was the kindest person you have met in a long time and it made you wonder why you even settled for anyone else.

“Fine,” You agreed, “but I thought you ‘wouldn’t be able to stop yourself’,” You almost teased, watching Peter roll onto his back next to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” He laughed.

“Yeah… so forgive me if I thought something was wrong,” You spoke sarcastically.

“I just- I didn’t want to do whatever he did,” Peter spoke, “Because I like you and I don’t just want to fuck you,” Peter spoke, “I just want you to understand that. And I want you to have time to get over him,”

“Thanks,” You spoke quietly, “...You wanna go make breakfast?”

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